[July Bingo] Fic - Multifandom

[lumiosecity]

Visit ♥	Knight ♥
Dream ♥	Star ♥

Title: Cherish
Challenge: July Bingo
Prompt: Visit
Fandom: New Teen Titans (Comics)
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 325
Warnings: No warnings apply.
Summary: On quiet days where nothing is expected of her, Raven visits art museums.

Raven is rather fond of visiting art museums, on the rare occasions she finds the spare time to do so.

It’s habitual, like clockwork: on a day where nothing is expected of her, she’ll inevitably find herself wandering the well-lit halls of somewhere she hasn’t been, taking in centuries of creativity and passion. Sometimes, on a whim, she’ll stop at a cafe beforehand, taking in the sights and sounds and people while enjoying a pastry and a cup of hot chocolate.

(She’s trying to get better at that— enjoying things, following whims, doing as her heart pleases.)

She couldn’t tell you why art museums, of all things, are what calls to her. Perhaps it’s the history contained within the walls, or perhaps it’s the pure humanity of the place— art, after all, is a cornerstone of human existence, something she’s always been on the fringes of.

Perhaps she just wants to experience that humanity for herself, if only for a few hours at a time.

No matter what draws her to them, she always enjoys the experience, and so she’ll always wind up coming back. Over and over and over, until she’s seen everything there is to be seen at least twice.

She basks in it all— the art, the beauty, the gentle hum of others’ emotions surrounding her as she wanders.

Her movement appears aimless. To the outside observer, there’s no purpose to how she moves. But what greater aim is there than to enjoy life, be happy, to thrive?

Raven is rather fond of visiting art museums, and she’s pleased that she has the chance to do so. After all, it’s a novel sort of experience.

There had once been a time when she had no hope, no future, no chance at surviving. Art, music, beauty, the warmth of a fresh-baked pastry and a cup of hot chocolate— all were the unattainable desires of someone yearning to thrive.

She’s going to cherish them.

Title: Cutting Words
Challenge: July Bingo
Prompt: Knight
Fandom: Deathstroke: Knights and Dragons
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 225
Warnings: Themes of domestic violence throughout
Summary: Adeline knows how to wield her words like the sharpest knife, cutting to the bone with expert precision. Slade, as usual, is her prime target.

“A knight.” Adeline’s voice is derisive. No, worse. Absolutely scathing. “That’s how you think of yourself? The hero in shining armor, coming to save us all?”

Every word cuts like a blade into flesh, and Slade has to bite back the urge to argue, to fight, to try and defend himself. There’s no point in doing so, not when he knows she’s right— he’s tried a thousand times over the years, and it never ends well for him.

(There’s still a scar dragging across his nose, the result of a flying shard of broken ceramic— a lamp base, if he recalls correctly. It hasn’t faded, despite his healing factor. Sometimes, he looks in the mirror, and seeing it makes him think of her. Miss her, even, if only for a moment.)

“You’re not a damn hero,” she continues, spitting the words like venom. “All you’ve ever done is fail us. You’re fucking delusional, that’s what you are.”

“I know.” His voice comes out soft, gentle. An effort to placate her— fruitless, he knows, just like he knows he’s in the wrong, but he feels compelled to try anyway. “Trust me, Adeline, I know.”

He’s gotten very good at steadying his voice over the years, but there’s no hiding the impulse to take a step back. Which he does, as discreetly as possible.

Just in case.

Title: White Noise
Challenge: July Bingo
Prompt: Dream
Fandom: The Mandalorian (TV)
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 325
Warnings: No warnings apply.
Summary: The kid struggles to sleep through the night. Din does his best to help.

The kid doesn’t sleep well. Din doesn’t know if it’s just because of how young he is, or if it’s the end result of all the horrors he’s witnessed— far too many for anyone, but especially someone so small.

All he knows is that he’s got a fussy little womp rat in his arms for what must be the fifth or sixth time tonight—he’s lost count, at this point—and whatever he’s doing to try and console the poor kid isn’t really working. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes from now, he’s going to be up again, swaying back and forth until they both slip into a fitful rest, and then the cycle will repeat until daylight hours.

Din isn’t sure of what to do now, and his nerves are frayed, and he’s two steps short of desperate. Maybe that’s what pushes him to start talking. He used to need to hear bunkmates whispering amongst themselves to fall asleep, before he’d trained himself out of the habit. Maybe the kid was the same way, and the Crest’s engines humming just weren’t enough to cut it— too mechanical, and frightening rather than comforting as a result.

“Bad dreams, huh?” he starts, and he gets a sleepy little burble in response, one he recognizes as an affirmative. “Yeah, me too. I guess I can just sleep through it, though— but let’s not dwell on that, alright?”

It takes a bit of practice to be comfortable— Din doesn’t make a habit of running his mouth. If something needs to be said, it needs to be said in the fewest words possible. Talking about everything and nothing in the galaxy, aimlessly monologuing… It feels strange at first, almost painful.

But the kid’s rest is important enough to make the effort. The kid is important enough to make the effort. And when he’s sleeping soundly in Din’s arms, still and quiet, showing no signs of nightmares, he knows the effort was worth it.

Title: Home
Challenge: July Bingo
Prompt: Star
Fandom: Tangled (2010)
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 125
Warnings: No warnings apply.
Summary: Every year on her birthday, Rapunzel watches the stars and wonders.

Every year on her birthday, Rapunzel watches the incongruous stars—the ones that are never visible on any chart, that never appear on any other day—fill the night sky. When faced with a thousand twinkling lights of inscrutable origin, there for a moment and then gone just as quickly, is it any wonder that her imagination runs wild?

She keeps it all very quiet, of course, but sometimes she wonders. Do the stars have meaning? Are they a map of some kind, maybe, leading to some great treasure or another? They have to serve some sort of purpose— everything does.

Sometimes, in fleeting moments, she imagines that they’re for her. That they’re calling her home.

But that’s silly, isn’t it?

The tower is already her home.