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cinnamonest · 3 years

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But yes I have thoughts about Albedo having a sort of mommy complex... Different from the others, though, not quite an Oedipal thing, but more of a hyper-attachment to a very maternal, affectionate darling. See, he never had a motherly figure. Like yes he had Rhinedottir but... She's described as cold and calloused... it even says in his story "He had always believed wholeheartedly that his teacher would make good on her threat to leave him, should he fail." So basically he was brought up to be afraid of failure most likely, and threatened with abandonment. He's never had a figure that was very motherly in the traditional sense. Like, super sweet, doting, coddling and nurturing, forgiving. So when a darling like that comes along... Soft and sweet girl... Ray of sunshine... He gets attached like glue. He knew Rhinedottir would leave him if he didn't meet expectations... So he's a perfectionist. Has always been very afraid of failure. He can't mess anything up. So it's very very rare that he does. Unfortunately, one of those extremely rare cases happens to be... All over darling. He was distracted by darlings choice of particularly tight clothing that day, accidentally put two wrong things together and whoops... Something of a chemical explosion. Gets all over your clothes, staining them. He's unusually apologetic, it's rare to hear his voice actually non-monotone, actually has a slight panic to it. You're an employee, after all, you can leave at any time, and you certainly will now... But... You... Smile...? Laugh a bit. It's ok. Don't worry about it. Which feels... So foreign. You're not mad? Not disappointed? You're not threatening to quit or leave him behind? Even though he messed up? It's a very new experience. It makes him feel strange. You tell him to be more careful, but before he can apologize, you add, you could have gotten hurt! And that line throws him off. Be more careful... for his own sake? Not yours? He's still silent when you walk off to change, but stands there in a confused daze, staring off into space, unable to understand. And then, you... Care about him? He falls asleep at his desk, slumped over. When he wakes up, there's a blanket over his shoulders, all the papers he was working on have been pushed to the side and stacked in a neat pile so he didn't smudge the ink or drool on them or anything. So strange, he doesn't remember doing that... Unless you did it? It's just the two of you in here, so that means you had to do it. But... Why? Then, a few weeks later, he gets sick. Not that it means anything, his master always taught him that sickness and injury isn't an excuse to stop working, so he's still working on his things as he's sniffling and coughing. And you fret over it. Get in that... Oddly... Maternal sort of fussing, tell him no, no, go lay down, you poor thing. You more or less force him to rest, not only that, but you bring him food for the rest of the day. Tell him not to worry, you'll take care of everything, you'll clean up the work station and get everything resolved for the day. He thinks through it logically and decides you must be worried he'll get other people sick, right? That's why. Nothing else would explain this strange course of actions you've taken. His brain can't understand why you would do all that... just because you want to. Yet, it persists when he's injured. He's used to that too. Glass breaks pretty easily, cuts his hands and fingers, but he just bandages it up and goes back to work as he was taught he's supposed to. You won't have that though. He didn't even take care of it right! It'll get infected, you say, as you force him to sit down, undo the poorly done bandages, get everything you need. Rubbing alcohol, for the infection potential. It'll hurt, you say, here, squeeze my hand. And he does - it does sting like a bitch after all. But the pain isn't really in the forefront of his mind. He's too lost in the strangeness of it all. Isn't this technically wasting time? He could easily work through the pain. He's just silent as your soft hands wrap up his fingers, you're back to that odd fussing where you say things like poor thing and it's ok and to top it off, you pull his hand up to your mouth and kiss his fingers, to make them better faster!, you say. Very strange -- scientifically speaking, the kissing should not have any actual effect, yet somehow it actually does make him feel better... must be some chemical effect he’s unaware of...? But the strangest occurrence of all occurs when he does do well. He's used to people thinking he's smart by now, people always admire him. That alone was a startling change when he first arrived in Mondstadt, he was so used to doing things right being... expected. The bare minimum. Rhinedottir would look at what he made and often just nod in acknowledgement, it was expected, but other people think it's nice... but, he tells himself, what he does isn't really impressive. People just think it is because they've never seen alchemy at work before, that's all. It's not actually good. He always tells himself to get ahold of himself whenever he feels happy with success -- he shouldn't feel happy or proud, no, it's not good enough, he has to push himself more, do better... but you can't help but notice the smile that initially crosses his face at the success, the way his eyes light up before they go dull again as he chastises himself for allowing himself to feel too proud... you're more perceptive than he thinks, you've picked up on how he pushes himself too hard for perfection. So you try to make him feel better... you say you're proud of him. You say it's good. Not just adequate, not the bare minimum... you look actually impressed... it makes him feel proud, and for once he can't get that prideful feeling to go away. It feels like a high, a buzz, it lasts the rest of the day, he keeps remembering that you said you were proud! You said it was good! It repeats over and over in his head like a record. It actually takes a time when Alice comes back to understand it. He's happy to see her again, but as he watches her go about her interactions with her daughter, it strikes him as familiar. Poor Klee never gets hurt by her bombs, but she trips and scrapes her knee, goes crying to her mother... who does something that mirrors what you did. Tells her it's ok, tells her to squeeze her hand if it hurts, she'll take care of it... she has that same baby-talk-ish fussing tone to her voice, calls her poor thing just like you did him... when Klee falls asleep on the floor, Alice just smiles and wraps her up and puts her things away, carries her to bed... and when she accidentally blows something up (again), Alice just runs fingers through her hair and tells her it's ok, she didn't mean to do it right? Just be more careful from now on, she could have gotten hurt -- the exact same thing you told him -- but... she's still proud, her bombs are made so well! He makes the connection. So this is what maternal affection and care feels like? He starts to think it would have been nice to have that, even if he was technically never a "child" in the physical sense, it would have been a nice thing to have in the early stages of his life... Or at any time. Or now. It feels nice... foreign, strange, unfamiliar, but so so nice and warm and comforting. He feels like it's ok if he messes up, if it's you. You forgive him. You always do. And if he gets hurt or sick, you'll help... It feels so nice. It's the only real comfort he's ever known. He feels safe and secure and like he doesn't have to be perfect all the time. But he doesn't like the way that extends to others. You're nice to everyone, he soon finds out. You help everyone when they get hurt. You forgive everyone when they mess up. It makes him feel some cold, twisting feeling in his gut and chest, he finds himself slamming things, clenching his teeth when he hears you talking in that same sweet voice to other people. It's really not fair, when you think about it. He never had that, but most people do, right? Most people have a mother or a mother figure in their lives they can go to, he never had that, that's what you're supposed to be. Everyone else's mother or maternal figure is theirs, not everyone's. Why does his have to be there for everyone? Why not just him? Doesn't he deserve what everyone else gets to have? It's that line of thinking that leads him to isolate you. When he initially sets off to go set up camp in the mountains, he decides you should be the one that comes to work up there, rather than the other assistants. They can stay in Mondstadt... you're too nice to them anyway. As long as you're up here, you won't be able to be nice to anyone else, and all that sweet, maternal affection can be just for him... like it should be.

#pls let him have a mommy darling its what he deserves #.al #yan.txt

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uwuwriting · 4 years

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Abusive boyfriend w/ Midoriya, Bakugou and Todoroki

Request: Can I have deku, bakugo and Todoroki reacting to the readers unhealthy boyfriend. He brings her down a lot and abusive. - anonymous

Being part of a toxic relationship is so so soooo painful. Thankfully reader-chan has her heroes to save her. Hope you like it. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: abuse both physical and mental, ptsd and panic attacks, cursing, characters are aged up (they have graduated)

Midoriya Izuku

-Okay so he basically was the one who managed to build your confidence back up after the horrendous break up with your ex.

-Your ex never laid a hand on you but his words were enough to bruise your ego and self worth so much that you believed that you were nothing compared to others.

-From looks to personality, you believed that even a snail was more worth it than you.

-Now you are a beautiful girl and very very smart.

-Guys and girls looked your way even though you were in a relationship.

-And your ex was having none of it.

-It started off really subtly.

- “Are you sure you want to wear that to dinner?”

- “We are going to grab some coffee not going out for drinks.”

- “Don’t you think you are showing too much skin?”

-Then the body shaming started.

- “I think you shouldn’t wear that, I mean look how large it makes you look.”

- “Have you been eating more?”

- “How about I make a diet for you?”

-This really brought you down.

-It reached the point where you would only wear really baggy hoodies in order to hide your body.

-After that turning point he still wasn’t satisfied.

-People, although fewer than before, still had the nerve to hit on you and it was getting on his nerve.

-He started belittling you in front of friends and acquaintances, destroying your already fragile confidence.

-He had dug you a grave and sugarcoated the casket with empty I love you’s.

-He had made you believe that he was the only one who would accept you and love you despite you’re so flawed.

-And he managed to keep you for quite some time.

-Then Midoriya comes along.

-A childhood friend who had become a pro hero and on the top five.

-He saw how skinny you had become, borderline unhealthy, how you shied away from him and literally everyone.

-You were like a scared deer.

-Then the boyfriend came in and everything fell into place.

-Midoriya is smart, he caught on your boyfriend’s belittlement and the reason behind it.

-Now getting you out of this toxic relationship is his new mission.

-You ran into him more often after that first encounter and he always talked to you, complimenting you whenever he could.

-Your boyfriend didn’t catch on until it was too late.

-Midoriya had managed to get you to talk about your relationship and what your boyfriend was like, he had opened your eyes to his abuse and helped you built up the courage to stand up to him and dump his ass.

-He was there of course to support you after the break up.

-And of course after months and months of seeing each other almost everyday, you two became a thing.

-Finally you get to experience true love with someone who truly appreciates you.

Bakugou Katsuki

-You and Bakugou have been friends since high school.

-Inseparable.

-He comes to you for everything, all his troubles are solved by you and you alone.

-You’re special!!

-So when you get a boyfriend he is the first to meet the guy.

-In truth he really didn’t want to because he has been in lobe with you for the longest time and seeing you with someone else reminds him that he is a coward.

-Anyway he meets him and everything is fine, he looks decent and he seems to treat you well.

-As months pass you seem to distance yourself more and more from him.

-Bakugou at first is angry, he is fuming I tell you.

-He doesn’t like the silence that he receives when he calls, or the single word replies when he texts and he especially despises your refusal to go out with him like you used to.

-He gets that you have a boyfriend now and you have to spend more time with your bf but he still felt betrayed.

-Then doubt started to settle in his mind.

-Maybe you realized he wasn’t worth the trouble, I mean he is a difficult person, maybe your new boyfriend opened your eyes and now you want nothing to do with him.

-Or maybe you figured out he was in love with you.

-Had he been scowling more than usual while he was meeting your boyfriend?

-He wanted to ask you what he did wrong but he couldn’t reach you.

-So he sucked it up and drowned himself in his hero work, drowning his nagging mind along with his free time.

-Then something unexpected happened.

-Uraraka visited him, worry written all over her face.

-She was worried for you and wanted to ask him if everything was alright, since he was your best friend.

- “She stopped showing up to our weekly girl evening and she won’t answer my texts.... I’m really worried for her Bakugou.”

-That was the last straw for him.

-He went to your apartment and after five minutes of knocking your boyfriend opened the door.

-The scowls on the guy’s face was really REALLY pushing his buttons.

- “Is Y/N here?”

- “What do you want her for?”

- “I want to talk to her.”

-This man..... he closed the door in Bakugou’s face.

-Well closed is putting it mildly.

-He slammed the door shut with so much force that a mirror down the hall rattled.

-Bakugou was ready to blow the door open when he heard the shouts.

- “Y/N why the fuck is that guy here?”

- “W-what guy?”

- “Don’t act all innocent you slut! The guy you are fucking!”

- “I-I don’t k-know who y-you are talking a-about.”

-The moment he heard your sniffles echo through the door he was inside the apartment shoving the guy away from you.

- “Don’t you fucking dare speak to her like that, asshole.”

-You were trembling behind him and Bakugou could feel the sob threatening to escape your lips.

-Looking over his shoulder at you he spoke gently as if you were a scared kitten.

- “Y/N could you go get some of your stuff ready? I’m taking you away from this dickhead.”

- “Who do you think you are? That’s MY girlfriend she listens to me alone!”

- “Don’t speak as if she’s an object!”

-You had disappeared to your room to get your things and were now clinging to Bakugou’s back.

- “So you are fucking him. What should I have expected from a whore like you!”

-Okay now Bakugou was presented with two options.

-Option A: beat the living shit out of this guy and most likely losing his hero license for a week.

-Option B: get you out of here and let this asshole boil in his own defeat.

-He went with option B.

-Wordlessly he guided you out of your apartment complex and into his car, drove you to his house and proceeded to help you calm down.

-You had had one panic attack in the past so he didn’t really know what to do.

-But he managed.

- “Whatever he said to you isn’t true. I don’t know what actually went down between you two and what he got into the pretty little head of your but none of that matters. Just know that we are all here for you. Me, the girls even stupid Deku. And we love you, I love you so don’t worry about anything. Everything will be alright.”

-From that point on everything was history.

-It didn’t take long for you two to start dating and Bakugou made sure to have a firm talk with your now ex boyfriend when you ran into him at the grocery store.

-Get wrecked douchebag.

Todoroki Shouto

-Toxic relationships is something Todoroki is a pro at this point.

-He grew up in one so yeah.

-He sees the signs of the abuse faster than anyone.

-First of all, you inch away from anyone who starts flaying their arms.

-Despite the warm weather you always wear long sleeves.

-And he has seen you applying extra make up around your eye once.

-He also notices how you always try to avoid annoying your boyfriend, like you take extreme measures.

-You distance yourself from other males going as far as to avoid him to an extent.

-Then he sees the bruises.

-You two were training at the agency’s gym when your shirt rode up your torso and there was this huge bruise right under your ribs.

- “Y/N who did this?”

- “Oh I just got slightly injured during my last patrol.”

-He isn’t buying it since he was with you during your last patrol and you didn’t get injured.

-But he lets it slide because he believes that you know whats best for you and you will get away from this guy.

-But for some reason you stay with him.

-For months.

-And Todo can’t take it anymore.

- “Y/N can I talk to you?”

-He talks to you about what he has seen and that he knows that your boyfriend is doing this to you.

- “So please, please leave him, get out while you can. Y/N I can’t see you hurt like this.”

-You see the thing was that you had made the stupid decision of moving in with him and now.... you had nowhere to go.

-If you broke up with him you wouldn’t have a place to stay and you couldn’t start searching for a new place, he traces your phone and search history.

- “You’ll live with me. I’ll give you everything you need just please please let go of him. He doesn’t deserve you. I hate seeing you so hurt and broken.”

- “Please come with me then, Shouto I-I can’t do this alone.”

-Of course he came with you, standing in between you and that asshole as he went to strike you when you broke the news to him.

- “You are leaving me for this piece of shit huh? Of course you would you whore!”

-He went as far as activating his quirk, attacking Shouto in an attempt to get to you.

- “I own you you fucking slut! No one will want you! You are mine!”

-Shouto wasn’t as calm as Bakugou in this situation, punching the guy before leaving the apartment, making sure that the guy got the message and wouldn’t try to come after you.

-Back at his apartment, Shouto comforted you as best he could.

-You know where this leads.

-Shouto gives you the space you need before making a move.

-My mans waits months before even remotely flirting with you.

-After a year long wait he finally manages to ask you out.

-And the rest is history.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @dnarez-mangetsu @reinyrei @bemorefiction

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oneshot-wxnderland · 3 years

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Prince’s Kiss | Jason Grace

Summary: While on a mission, Y/n gets hurt and there’s only one way for Jason to save her.

Category: fluff

_____________________

You and Jason had found yourselves in many situations like this before: back to back, weapons drawn, and fighting off a hoard of monsters. The rhythm and coordination you two had crafted over the course of hundreds of hours in battle and in training together proved to be a formidable force against opponents. You covered each other’s blind spots and moved as one. Which was necessary in the cramped alleyway.

Soon enough your attackers had diminished in number until just a few were left and one big ugly came charging at you. You swung at it but your sword got stuck half-way through its wood club and wouldn’t come when you pulled.

“Jay-.” Ducking under the monster’s swing, you continued to try and pry your sword free.

“On it.” Jason replied and finished off his opponent with a quick and calculated strike before he spun around to help. You ducked beneath his arm as it arched over you and cut into the monster, turning it to dust before he reached around you and wrapped his hands around your own on the hilt of your sword. It came free with a strong pull from your combined strength and you both let out a heavy breath now that it was over.

“Thanks,” you huffed, out of breath.

“Don’t mention it,” he nodded, equally fatigued.

“You know,” you kicked the wood club out of your way as you started to leave. “You’d think that with how often this happens, we’d be less winded.”

“I’m fine, I think it’s just you,” he nudged your shoulder with his and you laughed.

“Oh really? Bet I could beat you back to the motel.”

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“I think you’re scared, Jay-.”

A sharp sting to your side cut off your words. You looked down to see a scorpion-looking monster crouching behind the dumpster next to you and it reared its tail for another attack. Your limbs were sluggish as you tried pathetically to raise your sword and fight.

“You’re on, Y/n.” Jason looked back at you, a challenging smile on his face that fell immediately when he saw the blood coming from your side and the monster about to swing. “Y/n!”

His sword found its mark and the monster was finished before it could strike again and he spun to face you, worry creasing his brow.

“Are you alright?” He reached out his hand towards your wound and caught you in his arms as you collapsed. “Hold on, Y/n.”

The motel room you had rented for your mission wasn’t far and Jason made record time carrying you back to it. He laid you on one of the beds and gently lifted your shirt up over your stomach so that he could see the wound. It didn’t look too deep once he cleaned it up but you still hadn’t woken up. That’s when he knew something was wrong. You were one of the toughest people Jason knew and he had seen you walk off wounds far worse than this.

Deciding he needed some professional help, Jason scrambled to get a golden drachma from his backpack and ran to the bathroom to turn on the shower.

When the misty picture of Will Solace lit up the tiles, Jason called out to him frantically.

“Jason!” Will jumped and spun around to see the Iris message. He took in the usually composed leader’s worry and then past the open bathroom door to where he could see Y/n unmoving on the bed and immediately snapped into business mode. “What’s wrong.”

“I don’t know she got hit and passed out but the wound isn’t that bad and she can’t eat any ambrosia like this. What do I do?”

“You said the wound isn’t bad?” Will asked and Jason held his hand up in an approximation of how big it is, not wanting to move you from the bed. “And she’s passed out? It must be something else then. Did you see what hit her?”

“Yeah it was some kind of scorpion looking thing, I don’t know.” Jason ran his hand through his hair and walked back over to you, inspecting the wound and holding your hand that Will couldn’t see.

“Does she have a fever? It could be some kind of poison,” Will offered and Jason felt your forehead.

“She’s burning up.”

“I don’t get it,” Will tore through his books looking for an answer. “There isn’t a kind of monster like that who’s sting produces these kinds of symptoms.”

Jason walked back over to the bathroom and looked at Will’s surroundings.

“Is Annabeth there? She would probably know.”

“She’s in New York City with Percy.” Jason’s budding hope shrank again and he looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin looked drained of color but at least the wound had stopped bleeding. “I’ll keep looking. Did the wound look discolored at all-?”

Jason jumped from a cry of pain and rushed back to your side where you were thrashing around in your sleep. He grabbed your wrists and tried to hold you down so you wouldn’t hurt yourself, your eyes screwed shut and agonized noises like a twisting knife in his gut. “Will!”

“I’m looking! Try to keep her still!”

Even unconscious, you were putting up a hell of a fight for Jason who was struggling to hold you down, especially since he was trying not to hurt you.

“Jason, you gotta hold her down.”

He jumped up and straddled your hips to keep your legs down and leaned the rest of his weight into keeping your wrists to the pillow.

“Wait, you guys were looking for monsters who stole stuff from Aphrodite, right?”

“Yeah?” The entire point of the mission had left Jason’s mind since he saw you collapse and he was too anxious to follow Will’s thinking.

“Then what if it was one of Aphrodite’s potions that the stinger was dipped in?” Will grabbed a new book and wildly searched through it. “This one must be it! Fainting, fever, convulsions… yeah it’s this one.”

“What do I do?” The fight was being drained from you but Jason was hesitant to do more than ease on his grip a little in case you started up again.

“It says that the only cure is a… wow, that is so like Aphrodite.”

“Will.”

“Okay it says that the only cure is a kiss from royalty, like a prince or something.”

Jason’s hope was crushed once again seeing as how even if they weren’t in America, a prince would be exceptionally hard to acquire.

“Well I don’t think I’ll be able to find a prince in the middle of Wisconsin. Is there another option?” There had to be another way. No way in hell was Jason going to lose you. Especially not before you knew how he felt.

You had completely stopped fighting against him and Jason wished you would keep doing so even if he was tired. He much preferred it to you lying there limp and lifeless.

“Wait, wait, wait. Zeus is the king of the gods,” Will started and expected Jason to catch on to his idea. “And you’re his son.”

“Well, technically I’m the son of Jupiter, but what does that have to do with anything?” Jason removed himself from on top of you and walked over to Will.

“I mean that technically makes you a prince, Jason.”

Jason frowned in concentration, weighing the legitimacy of that claim. Then he struggled to fight off a blush when he realized what Will was insinuating he has to do now.

“Are you sure that counts? Like there’s not another way?” Jason looked back at you, now dealing with new emotions adding to his turmoil.

“Jason, you have to try it. And like now, she doesn’t have long. It says here that once the convulsions stop they don’t have much time left.” Will’s face was getting blurry as the Iris message was running out.

“What if it doesn’t work, what do I do?” Jason pleaded to the fading form of his friend. “Will, Will!”

The Iris message cut off and Jason hit the wall in frustration before he returned to your side.

“This better work.” He didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t. As Jason knelt down and brushed some hair out of your face he couldn’t imagine having to live without you by his side. Even if you didn’t return his feelings, your friendship was too important to him. The thought of losing you made him forget any nerves he had and he leaned down and gingerly pressed his lips to yours.

The change was immediate as you breathed in life. Your eyes opened and the first thing they saw was Jason’s.

“Jay?” He broke out into the biggest smile you had ever seen on him and he pulled you into a hug. “What happened?”

“You got kinda poisoned and almost died.” At this point you registered the dull pain emitting from your side and leaned back to look at your injury. “But you didn’t because I saved you. You’re welcome.”

“Oh, so you’re my Prince Charming?” You asked him and he shrugged.

“I mean, technically.” His voice sounded less confident than it had and you looked at him quizzically, which made him avoid your gaze by walking over to his backpack. “How do you feel?”

“Fine…” you answered, still thinking about his sudden mood shift. “Except for whatever happened here.”

“Giant scorpion thing,” he answered and walked back over, handing you a square of ambrosia.

“Cool.” The ambrosia soothed your side and you leaned against the headboard in relief.

“Hardly,” Jason scoffed, sitting next to you but looking down at his lap. “You collapsed and went pale and I thought I was going to lose you.”

He got quiet and you saw the stress and worry in his slumped shoulders.

“The thought of you just… being gone. Before I could say goodbye or, or tell you how I feel. You were so pale…” His jaw clenched and he turned his face away from you.

“Jason,” you placed your hand on his shoulder and made him look at you. His blue eyes teared up and you felt a physical tug on your heart. Your hands cradled his face and gently wiped away the tear that fell to his cheek. “I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

His head hung and landed on your shoulder, your hand combed through his hair.

“And Jason?” You asked as you remembered a sensation from when you woke up.

“Mm-hm?” He responded from your shoulder, his voice steadier now.

“Did you… kiss me?”

At that he burst upright and a blush was raging on his face.

“Okay, I had to do it or you would die. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to- I mean I did want to kiss you. For a while now, actually, but not like this and especially when I couldn’t tell if you wanted me to or not. Will just said that there was no other way so-.”

“Shut up.” His eyes snapped to you failing to suppress your grin. “Don’t apologize. Just… do it again.”

His lips parted in shock and then one side lifted up as he leaned into you. Your hands held his face as his mouth pressed into yours and your bodies sighed into each other. So many years of longing and second-guessing and finally getting an answer, you couldn’t believe this was really happening.

Jason tilted his head further and deepened the kiss, his hand moving to your leg that was propped up on the bed, sliding from your knee down to your hip and squeezing.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled against his lips before you could stop yourself and you felt his smirk.

“Just wait.”

His lips moved down to your neck and you could breathe again but your head didn’t get any clearer, until you looked into the bathroom.

“Jason?”

“Hm?” His voice tickled the sensitive skin of your throat .

“Why is the shower on?”

#jason grace #Jason Grace x Reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n

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supremeinlilac · 3 years

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Three’s not a crowd, especially when it’s us (4)

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader x Wilhelmina Venable

Word count: 3175

Warnings: slapping, choking, idk arguing? Brief sexual thoughts.

A/n: I don’t know if this is in character for either of them, but it’s what I felt fit the story so we’re going with it. Also I’ve plotted out the rest of this series and it should be about 10-12 parts long, depending on how much I ramble. Also, I used a line from Apocalypse because I felt like it fit. Anyway enjoy :)

PART ONE | PART 2 | PART 3

“Are you fucking her?”

Cordelia’s questioning was blunt, arms crossed as her gaze flickered between the two of you. You almost laughed at her, but the reflex of defensiveness acted first, and had both Mina and you scoffing at her accusation.

“What?! No” You reacted simultaneously, responses tripping over the other in their haste to deny the claim. Your sincerity doing nothing to quell the fire that seemed to be flickering in the Supreme’s eyes, as if in silent warning. She also was completely disregarding you, directing her question only to her girlfriend.

“Well what is it then? I’m not stupid, I know that something is going on between the two of you.” Her foot tapped impatiently against wood as she waited, an unconscious mirroring of the taps of Wilhemina’s cane.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air like fog, thick and poisonous and determined to seep into your pores. You could feel it, stinging and burning at your eyes and forcing you to blink away tears. But there was not fog, and the tears were of guilt; overwhelming guilt that had built like rain in a river, threatening to break flood defences and drown you.

You stood rooted, mouth gaping as you tried to stutter out a response, only babbled incoherence falling from your lips. They were too dry, and you noticed so suddenly, supposing your brain was trying to focus on anything but how Cordelia was looking at you. Your tongue darted out to wet them. Wilhemina looked guiltily at the cracked paint at the base of the wall, knuckles white against her cane and you worried the skin might split.

“I lied. I didn’t tell you what my real power was when I came.” Your words died on your lips as you admitted them, until you were barely whispering. You couldn’t meet their eyes. You noticed that on a part of the flooring the planks didn’t fully meet each other, you’d never seen that before.

Wilhemina’s cane cracked against the floor, her head shaking softly at the ground and you wondered why she seemed annoyed. Surely she knew when the game was up, it made no sense to lie further and risk all the relationships you’d built up in your time here. At least it made no sense to you, you already thought that you might love Wilhemina, but it was not justification enough for you to keep up this charade.

Cordelia looked shocked, as if whatever she’d been anticipating you to say had not been that. It wasn’t as if you expected that she knew your secret. You’d been quite careful with your lies throughout your time at the academy. No one could have known.

“You knew?” She turned on Mina, red anger back in her tone and you felt a swell of protectiveness surge within you like a tide. You scurried between them, a barrier, hands up towards Cordelia in mock surrender. You didn’t want Wilhemina to take the fall for your actions. “No, please don’t be upset at her, Cordelia, she only found out last night.”

Your eyes were silent and pleading at the Supreme, who’s gaze was unreadable as she blinked at you. A soft hand fell onto your shoulder from behind and pulled you sideways slightly, out of the middle of the two, so you all were stood equal. A broken sigh left the lips of the woman in lilac, but her hand stayed on your shoulder as she started.

“You don’t need to lie Y/n, it’s okay. Yes Delia, I knew. I found out about 6 weeks ago when-”

While she had been speaking, you’d turned to her, brows furrowed as if to ask what she was doing. Interrupting her when she was about to reveal your power, you both fell into a hushed argument, speaking in words that you both knew would wash over the Supremes head. It was less of an argument per say, more that neither of you wanted the other to burn in the inevitable fire.

Cordelia simply watched your interaction, her own insecurities bubbling to the forefront of her mind. She looked as if she would have preferred that Wilhemina had actually been fucking you, rather than this lie that had spanned over weeks.

Why hadn’t you felt comfortable; safe enough to come to her about it? Why had Wilhemina kept it from her, were they growing apart? She pushed the growing intrusive thoughts down and quashed them like a cigarette under the sole of a boot, as well as the looming voice of her mother, who’d seemed to be making more frequent appearances as of late.

Cordelia cleared her throat.

You were the first to break the silence, holding a hand up when Wilhemina made to protest, silencing the words on lips. “I-urgh-” your hand came to nervously scratch at the nape of your neck, “I used my powers on Ms Venable.”

As annoyed as she was at her girlfriend for her lies, your confession was quick to make Cordelia’s face fall from one of annoyance into worry. A small breathy “what” fell from her mouth as she frowned, turning to Mina, hands coming up to cup her face as she examined her diligently for injury and signs of pain.

Your heart seized painfully when Cordelia paused her examination of Mina to through you a glare over her shoulder. Her eyes were dark. She’d never looked at you like that before. You’d never seen her look at anyone like that. You assumed she thought you were trying to hurt Wilhemina, and maybe part of her would have been right, you hadn’t done it out of kindness.

The law echoed firmly in the back of your head. The punishment for harming a sister witch was to be burnt. You shivered. Technically, Wilhemina was your sister witch now. Stories had told you that in the coven, there was lots of people hurting each other without consequence, but that did nothing to quell the unease that grew in your stomach.

“Darling, I’m fin- I’m fine! Delia, please.”

When Cordelia didn’t cease to stop in her efforts of checking for injury, eyes hardened with the thought of someone hurting the people she loved, Mina brought her fingers slowly to wrap around hers, stilling the frantic movement. She coaxed Delia’s fingers to open before pressing them against her heart.

“See, I’m alright. Y/n didn’t hurt me I promise. Look I’ll show you.” Wilhemina’s voice was soft, thumb brushing over the Supremes’ knuckles.

She stepped away from Cordelia, and you both watched as she extended one of her arms towards the table. You, knowing what was going to happen, swallowed loudly and let your eyes travel to Cordelia.

As the candle lifted from the table, she gasped, looking to you as if she thought you were the one using your powers. Upon finding your eyes already on her, her head whipped back to Mina, who was now ushers it to come to her through the air. “Impossible” Cordelia gasped quietly, on the cusp of her breath, stare locked on the candle.

The candlestick reached Wilhemina’s waiting outstretched hand, and the woman turned back to the both of you, a proud look on her face. If the situation had of been different, you would have given her a thumbs up or expressed verbal praise, but Cordelia’s face was pale and confused so you pursed your lips.

“You’re not a Salem descendant, I’ve never seen anything like this,” Cordelia tried to reason, head shaking as if her logic would somehow reverse the fact that Wilhemina had just telekinetically brought a candle to an awaiting palm.

You stepped towards Cordelia warily, unsure of how to approach telling her without just blurting it out. Wilhemina stepped behind you to replace the candle, she looked smug. You didn’t know how she was handling this admission so well. You were a mess and Cordelia was perplexed. God how you wished you’d never kept it a secret.

“It’s my power,” you tried to explain, voice low. Cordelia looked confused, narrowing her eyes and looking to Wilhemina for an explanation. You started up again before she could answer for you. For some reason you felt the need to be the person telling her.

“I gave Ms Venable magical abilities, and I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking because I was mad and I’ve been teaching her and she’s actually really really gifted which I was surprised at, you know seen as it wasn’t by birth. The magic I mean.” You rambled, nervousness making you talkative, trying to defend yourself and Mina before the Supreme had a chance to interject.

It was her hand against your cheek that silenced you, and you heard Wilhemina gasp in shock behind you. Cordelia was trembling, from what you assumed was anger. Why was she so angry, you understood her to an extent, but you weren’t hurting anyone, were you? You tried to keep your eyes locked on hers, but they were too piercing, too extreme; and you had to look away.

Had she always been that tall, or was it her anger that made her seem twice the height, looming and dangerous. The slap had made your head spin, stepping backwards but yet she kept advancing. Your cheek stung but the knowledge that you’d gone enough for her to strike you hurt worse. Cordelia never really even got angry at anyone, she was usually very coolheaded.

“HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM ME” her voice was sharp, and too loud, and it made your head ache uncomfortably. You were worried the girls may hear. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT SECRETS? I NEED TO KNOW WHAT PEOPLES ABILITIES ARE TO KEEP YOU SAFE.”

She was so close you could feel the warmth of her breath on your skin and smell the tang of her perfume, and yet you didn’t think you’ve ever felt further from her. Her chest rose and fell heavily and you slowly looked up at her, stopping at her nose because you couldn’t bare to meet her eyes.

Cordelia’s lip twitched as if she were about to say something else before she quickly turned and stormed out of the room. The door slammed and you flinched, shoulder dropping as you pulled a lip between your teeth.

When you look, Wilhemina’s eyes are on the door. Her head turned and your eyes meet, and she looks, sad? You can’t remember the last time you’d seen Mina look sad and the thought makes your chest ache painfully.

She makes for the door before pausing, hand on the handle. Glancing back at you, it looks as if she’s contemplating staying to comfort you, fighting with her brain about who needed her most in that moment, who she needed more. The glance must have only been momentary, but it felt like minutes, time stretched out and bare before you in your pain. But then the glance was gone, and so was she, the door swinging in her wake.

You were alone. Your shoulders dropped again, although you didn’t remember raising them. Perhaps you subconsciously did at the prospect of Wilhemina staying.

You didn’t feel like raising them again.

***

Wilhemina thought it best to leave Cordelia to allow her anger to thaw, since she’d retreated to the greenhouse. She always liked to be left alone to think when there in the day. She’d listen to Fleetwood mac in the absence of Misty, and let the plants and potions calm her. Maybe she’d smash a couple to defuse, not that she’d ever let anyone know that.

Wilhemina made herself busy in her office, needing anyway to complete the stack of paperwork that she’d allowed to build up in her eagerness to practise and perfect her new magic. It would serve as the distraction she needed to stop herself from seeking out her girlfriend, although it did nothing to clear the image in her head of the hurt on your face when she’d left the room earlier.

She worked until the ink ran out in her pen and the paperwork had been reduced to a minimum. Pushing back from the chair, she gathered the completed paper into an arm, cane in the other. When once she would have struggled to open and close the door without dropping anything, having to rely on Cordelia to get up for her, now the door swung open freely.

Making sure the filing was correct, Wilhemina took the stairs slowly up to her shared room, slowly because the events of the day had taken their toll. She now felt heavy with impending sleep. All she wanted was to have her love in her arms again as they slept.

Thoughts of her girlfriend swirled like mist in her mind, a welcomed distraction as her back started to twinge with pain. Reaching for the handle to their bedroom, she jumped back, clutching at her palm with the other as her cane fell against the dresser. Sucking in a deep breath as her hand began to smart, throbbing in her fingers with a heightened heartbeat.

The door handle had burnt her, it felt like, and now that she bowed slightly to inspect it, she saw how it glowed a warm orange. In fact, the whole door was tinted slightly, not enough for anyone without focused to see, but enough for Mina to know it had a protection spell over it. She’d seen the lesson Cordelia had given in the types of protective spells one could use.

Cordelia had cast a protective spell, the third type from her lesson, she remembered, to stop anyone from getting in, even Mina. Even though she was upset, Wilhemina sighed affectionately. It was so Cordelia to put the least harmful protective spell on the door. Even in her anger, the supreme hadn’t wanted to hurt Wilhemina as she tried to enter, like the other two spells would have.

Wilhemina brought her hands to meet on her stomach, unsure of what to do now she was locked out of her bedroom; all the other witches had returned to theirs, and the house was quiet. She assumed Cordelia would let her in when she went to sleep, wanting to be alone for as long as possible.

After finding her pyjamas and a set of new clothes folded neatly on the chest at the foot of the bed in the spare room, anger flickered in her chest. Surely Cordelia wasn’t expecting she actually slept here. Alone. Turning on her heels, she strode determinedly towards your bedroom.

***

You’d heard stories form the girls when you’d arrived, about when Wilhemina had first arrived in the house years ago. None of them had been there to see it, so the words were mere rumours passed from ear to ear and morphing like the muttered sentences of a child’s game of Chinese whispers.

Some days they seemed ridiculous, the notion that she could have been so carelessly cruel. Today, you believed them. You’d been struck yourself by the unforgiving blade of her tongue.

By the realisation that perhaps you’d been wrong, and that magic wasn’t a thing everyone deserved. Or could be trusted with.

Wilhemina could barely control the fire of her own emotions, never mind the magic you’d trapped her with. She let anger and fear steer her actions and didn’t seem to have the capacity to actually regret them after.

You’d managed to poke a hole through the fragile calm that Cordelia had managed to envelope her in over the years, and you were allowed to see the flickering glimpses of her former self. You let yourself mourn for the person you thought she was.

Perhaps now you knew her, the real her, you may never truly love who she has become. Could you let yourself love someone born from so much spite?

She’d come to your room, eyes hard and angry and hands shaking against her cane. Hissing through bared teeth that you’d ruined everything, among other things that you missed because you couldn’t stop watching how she was shaking.

She’d looked at your blank expression, and how your cheek was still slightly pink, and snapped. Lurching forwards and choking your neck between strong hands. She almost smirked at how your expression changed so suddenly, finger coming to claw at her own, a desperate attempt to get free.

Anger and hurt clouded her mind, just as the thought of Delia earlier, yet this was a thick fog, opaque and suffocating, and stopping her from truly registering what she was doing.

Yesterday you would have become instantly wet and squirmy with the thought of having Wilhemina’s slender fingers wrapped around the delicate skin of your throat. But now, with the black of her eyes holding no kindness as she squeezed harder, making your vision almost blur, you weren’t aroused, All you knew was fear.

In that second, you’d been scared of her. You’d felt it, and so had she.

She’d obviously heard your fear, your pain, because a second later she was stumbling back, cane cracking as it fell to the ground. Her eyes were wide and frightened, as if she couldn’t recognise herself, watching how you held your neck protectively.

You’d watched as she tried to compose herself, smoothing down her skirt with hands that still shook, fingers slightly curling into the fabric. As she stooped to pick up her cane, cracked it twice against the floor and left as if nothing had happened.

You’d seen in her eyes, a silent apology that she always refused to voice, as if breaking some unspoken law she’d set herself. Wilhemina was never in the wrong. Even if she was.

Later, when the moon seemed to be the only witness to your sleeplessness, you let your wind wander, staring at the ceiling. Your covers were drawn up to your chin protectively, as if it would somehow stop the monsters. A childish belief.

In the past 6 hours, you’d been struck by both of the women you’d believed would never raise a hand to you. You wanted to laugh, and cry. Everything was so quick to crumble beneath you, the soil dry and unstable.

This is what Cordelia had meant. Secrets are dangerous. The ground fell away and left you teetering on the edge, so much uncertainty hanging above you. Regret and guilt too.

You supposed it was your own fault, always setting yourself goals that were highly unrealistic and then being surprised when they didn’t work out. You strove for things unattainable and out of reach.

Wilhemina was the moon, dark and cold and misunderstood. She never let anyone see her true self, she was guarded and everyone could only see her through a lens. Everyone except Cordelia.

Cordelia was the sun, she was warm and familiar and the source of things to flourish and grow. Her smile was bright. They were so opposite, but they needed one another, moving in harmony and in sync.

They were both so unreachable but yet, weren’t we told as children to reach for the stars?

PART 5

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#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #Cordelia Goode #wilhemina venable #cordelia goode x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable x cordelia #cordelia goode x reader x wilhemina venable

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sophie-jen · 3 years

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“Prove it”

answer to @jilytoberfest prompt: “Prove it”

read on ao3 / ffn

Hidden by the cover of night, an eerie castle loomed in the darkness. Woodland creatures never strayed too close, for there were tales of dreadful goings-on within the tall stone walls. The sound of tinkling glass and polite conversation drifted out into the surrounding forest, curling through twisted trees like smoke, while pale moonlight poured in through the narrow windows, illuminating the sinister soirée taking place inside.

Two gentlemen stood beneath a cluster of candles, speaking agitatedly and paying no heed to the other party-goers. One had artfully coiffed shoulder-length black hair, and was swatting repeatedly at the candles floating not far above as he spoke, while the other, who was bespectacled and had a head of hair that could only be described as the opposite of coiffed, eyed the nearby window like he was considering defenestrating himself at any moment.

Candle swatter’s voice rose in pitch as he gleefully hammered the final nail in his interlocutor’s coffin.

“Prove it,” he sneered, watching the confused man in front of him with poorly hidden jubilation. In his excitement, he gripped his wine glass so hard he risked shattering it, spilling the viscous red contents in the process. He had the idiot cornered, and he would relish it like a cat playing with its food.

“Excuse me?” the man asked.

“I don’t believe you,” he said again.

“Well, what do you suppose I do, Mr. Black? Go into anaphylaxis to reassure you I’m not lying?” the flustered gentleman responded, trying his best to hold his ground.

“Except I know there won’t be any anaphylaxis, Mr. Potter,” Mr. Black retorted, “because you’re not really allergic.”

Mr. Potter ran a hand tensely through his hair, at a loss for words. He was saved from further interrogation by someone calling his name.

They both turned to see a woman in a black evening gown holding two glasses and walking toward them, eyes trained on Mr. Potter. “James, you’ll never believe what Morticia told me...”

“Honey!” James practically yelled, relief immediately apparent in his slumped shoulders and softening face. He took a step toward her, grabbing onto her forearm as though anchoring himself.

The woman smiled bemusedly at him, unsure how to interpret the outburst. She had hair as striking as her husband’s, though hers was a deep, blood red, and fell past her shoulders. James gratefully accepted the glass she handed him, taking a long drink, before remembering that they weren’t alone and turning back to his tormentor with a look of dread.

“This is Sirius Black.” James gestured toward Sirius, though he did not take a step back towards him. “Mr. Black, this is my wife.”

The redhead looked over, noticing for the first time the particularly pale looking gentleman standing across from her husband, who was going to great pains to look moody and mysterious.

“I hadn’t realized I was interrupting,” she said. “Lillian Potter, but you can just call me Lily.” She strode closer, James following reluctantly behind, and held a manicured hand out, the nails deadly sharp.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lily,” Sirius greeted her, watching her claws carefully as they shook hands.

There followed an awkward pause as they all stood looking at each other. Lily had evidently been expecting them to continue their previous conversation, which James did not seem eager to do, and Sirius didn’t feel quite as confident in his attack in her presence.

“So, Sirius– is it alright if I call you Sirius?” The man in question nodded, not seeing any other option. Lily continued. “How was your trip? We’re holding this little party in quite a remote location this year.”

“The trip was very pleasant. My car– er, carriage, I mean, kept me shielded from the inclement weather.”

“Your carriage?” The couple looked surprised at this. “I haven’t heard of anyone coming in a carriage in years. It’s quite an old tradition,” Lily commented with a smile. “Why didn’t you fly?”

Sirius took a moment to ponder the question, swirling the liquid in his glass, though he did not drink any. “Naturally, I couldn’t risk ruining my hair. A lot of work goes into maintaining it, you know.” He smoothed the black strands delicately. “Funnily enough, I wanted to check it earlier and couldn’t find a single mirror here,” he added.

Lily burst into laughter, as though the notion of having a mirror was uproariously funny. “Yes, that took me some getting used to at first.”

James, having grown less weary now that Sirius was acting civilly, finally chimed in. “I don’t mean to pry, but I can’t say I’ve heard of the name Black before. Are you...” he winced, not knowing how to broach the sensitive topic, “new?”

A flash of confusion disappeared in Sirius’ eyes as quickly as it had appeared. “Yes, yes I am,” he answered, putting on a sorrowful face, which seemed to fit the tone of the question.

“I’m so sorry,” said Lily. “That must be so hard for you. We’re glad you could make it to this little gathering though. Having a sense of community was very comforting for us in the beginning.”

James hummed softly at the words, settling a reassuring arm around Lily’s shoulders.

“What about you?” inquired Sirius. “Are you new?”

“No, not at all. It’s been–” James began, and looked down at Lily. She shrugged, a sad smile on her face. “Years,” he sighed. “You lose count eventually.”

Sirius had no idea what response would be appropriate in this situation. “You’ve aged quite well,” he said.

“Well, we were quite young when it happened,” Lily remarked. The small party sank back into silence, Lily and James looking on with wise solemnity, while Sirius looked a little lost.

“So!” exclaimed James, in an attempt to liven the mood. “What do you think of the refreshments?” He winked at Sirius.

“Marvelous!” Sirius held his glass up, which was still just as full as it had been at the beginning of the evening.

“They’re particularly delicious this year,” said Lily. “But you haven’t drunk anything. Are you not feeling well?”

“You know, now that you mention it–” started Sirius.

“Oh, he was doing just fine earlier, sweetie,” interrupted James with a scoff.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius’ apprehension grew as he realized that James was no longer turning the other cheek, instead choosing to bite back.

Lily looked confused at the sudden display of animosity. “James...” she muttered, warning in her tone as she placed a placating hand on his arm.

“He was full of energy right up until you got back!” James accused, his voice growing louder.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about, Lily.” Sirius leaned towards her and spoke in a conspiratorial tone, as though her husband shouldn’t be privy to what he had to say.

James looked affronted. “He tried to make me eat garlic!” he cried, pointing at Sirius like he was tattling to a teacher.

“I did not!” lied Sirius, with the instinct of a 4-year-old being accused of stealing his classmate’s pencils.

Lily simply stared. At length, the poor woman asked, “What?”

“He asked me whether I’m allergic to garlic,” James explained, “and when I told him I was, he said he didn’t believe me. He tried to convince me to prove it to him by eating some in front of him!” he finished, a whiny edge to his voice.

She whirled on Sirius. “You tried to convince my husband to eat garlic?”

Sirius only stared, figuring it was best to keep his mouth shut.

“Why would you–” Lily looked at him in confusion for a beat, and suddenly her eyes widened in comprehension. Sirius’ heart dropped as he watched her turn to James, who was having a revelation of his own, and saw the understanding pass between them. They looked back at him in unison.

Before he could understand what was happening, Lily had grabbed him by the wrist and was dragging him out of the room, James following quickly behind. She pulled him into an empty corridor, lit only by a few sconces hanging on the stone walls.

“Who are you?” she hissed, her eyes glowing red in the murky darkness.

“Please don’t drink my blood!” howled Sirius, “I’m young! I’ve got a long life ahead of me!”

“Shut up, you prat,” growled James, slapping a hand over the prat’s mouth.

“We’re not going to hurt you, but you need to tell us who you are and what you’re doing here right this instant, or I cannot promise that things won’t get ugly,” threatened Lily. She nodded at James to let go of the whimpering intruder.

It all came spilling out. “I’m not a vampire! The invitation was delivered to me by mistake and I figured it was a joke, but when I got here and realized you were all actually drinking blood out of bloody wine glasses it was too late to leave! I just did my best to blend in,” he finished meekly.

“By accusing a vampire of lying about his garlic allergy?” Lily asked incredulously.

“You’re shitting me,” came the sound of James’ voice from off to the side.

Sirius looked over at him apprehensively, expecting to see anger, or worse, hunger. But James was looking at him with an expression of such wondrous awe that Sirius thought for a moment he might kiss him. “Mate,” James said hoarsely, “that’s wicked.” His face split into a shit-eating grin.

Puzzled yet thrilled by the development, Sirius grinned back. The two boys immediately began chattering, speaking over each other in their excitement.

“–the balls to do something like this–”

“–really like the taste of blood?”

“–a carriage? Oh yes, it’s delicious–”

“–it seemed old-fashioned, and you’re, like, old. Can you really not see your reflection?”

“No, it’s a bloody nightmare. But we never age! On the other hand–”

“Sorry about the garlic thing, by the–”

“–no more cake. No worries, but I really am seriously allergic–”

“–can fly?!”

At the mention of flying, James’ eyes lit up. “Wanna see?” he asked excitedly. He took a few steps back and turned into a bat to the sound of Sirius’ whoops of delight.

Lily watched her husband fly around a cheering Sirius from a safe distance away. “Un-fucking-believable,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose so hard she looked like she might draw blood. Had there been any blood to draw.

Several minutes later, after an aerial demonstration and a tour of James’ fangs, they were finally able to discuss more pressing matters. Sirius now had to field Lily’s questions, which weren’t quite as easy to answer as James’.

“Why would you go all the way out to the middle of nowhere, to a party you weren’t invited to, with people you didn’t know?” she inquired.

“Because he’s awesome.”

“James, please.”

“Right. Er, this is very serious.” James waggled his finger gravely in his newfound soulmate’s face. “We do need to figure out a way to get him out of here though,” he remarked, looking back at Lily.

“Can’t you just fly me out?” Sirius asked, all inhibitions lost now that he had James to back him up.

“You think a bat can carry your body weight?” Lily snapped, at her wit’s end.

“I read about a passage through the cellar that leads out into the forest, I think,” offered James, feeling guilty for having left Lily on her own to try and solve the very real issue of Sirius’ presence at a party of bloodsuckers.

“That might work. Lead the way.” She exhaled tiredly, then hummed appreciatively when James wrapped a supportive arm around her waist.

The unlikely trio made their way down the hallway together, Lily’s head resting on James’ shoulder as she grudgingly answered Sirius’ barrage of questions about the ethics of vampirism.

The two vampires and the impostor snuck out of the castle and disappeared into the gloomy night.

#possibly biting off more than I can chew #but here we go #jilytoberfest #jilytober #lily evans #james potter #james x lily #jily art #jily fanfiction #jily oneshot #jilytober 2021 #prompt 1

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geekgirles · 3 years

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Mirrors

Considering Lies premieres tomorrow, I thought it would be best to upload this now.

And here is part 2 of my analysis on Kagami acting as a reflection of both Marinette and Adrien. This time I’ll be discussing how Kagami is a foil to Marinette and vice versa.

Part 1

Marinette & Kagami

It’s undeniable that these two have as many similarities as they do differences. In a way, they are both as alike as peas in a pod, as they are opposites from each other. And no, the irony of this duality is not lost on me.

Just like Kagami needs to be similar to Adrien for him to bond with her, she also needed to be similar to Ladybug, and by extension Marinette, for him to develop an interest in her.

Both of them are strong, confident, capable, and independent girls who will not hesitate to jump into action if the situation calls for it. Both are also kind and loving, and they care greatly for their friends and loved ones. And have many physical similarities as well. Both are of Asian descent, their hair as it’s pictured in the show is very similar, both have pale skin and freckles, the colour red is very present in both their colour palettes (the difference being that red and black are present in Kagami and Ryuuko’s colour palettes, while in Marinette’s case it’s only there as Ladybug)...

Come on, don’t pretend you don’t remember that theory about Adrien thinking Kagami was Ladybug when the trailer for Riposte first came out.

But just as they have many things in common, they are also incredibly different on their approach to certain things. So different, in fact, that one’s weaknesses become the other’s strengths.

Insecurity:

Now, what really tells Marinette and Kagami apart is their confidence as civilians.

If we compare their “introductory” episodes, there is a clear contrast between the two.

For this we’ll be counting Origins as Marinette’s debut. When the episode starts, Marinette’s demeanour is a stark contrast to the optimistic personality we’ve grown used to. From the moment her alarm woke her up to Sabine’s words of encouragement, Marinette was already defeated. Having spent four years in a row as Chloé’s punching bag had really taken its toll on her, and she believed that year would be no different.

Unlike the Marinette we were familiar with up until that point, who, not only confronted Chloé on a regular basis, but was also brave enough to sass her, the moment she made it clear she wanted the seats behind Nino, Marinette just went along with it and took what now are Chloé and Sabrina’s current seats. And she didn’t get any more confident until Alya spoke up and befriended her.

At the same time, in both parts of the episode, it wasn’t until things were dire that Marinette got a grip of herself and accepted that she was Ladybug and it was her duty to protect everyone. And yet, she still needed Chat Noir’s support to finally become the superhero she is today.

Kagami, by contrast, showed a great level of confidence in Riposte. The only time she looked insecure was before getting akumatised, when we got a glimpse of her lonely life and the high expectations that were set on her. But other than that, she arrived at M. Argencourt’s class and immediately asked to face off against his best student.

Kagami was well aware of her worth and talent as a fencer and was not going to settle for anything less than the proper chance to show off her skills.

During her match with Adrien her strikes were fast and precise, her focus, unwavering, and her movements fluid but intense. So when the match came to an end she was anxious to see she had proven herself as the superior fencer, for she spent her whole life honing her skills to prove just that.

Kagami takes great pride in her skills and who she is as a person. So it is to be expected that an exaggeration of that pride would be apparent as Riposte, where they turned into arrogance and a sense of superiority.

Of course, another crucial aspect reflects on the relationship each has with Adrien.

As Kagami herself pointed out in Frozer, Marinette is incredibly insecure when it comes to Adrien. Because her crush usually manifests itself in her getting tongue-tied, bouts of clumsiness, and embarrassing herself in front of him, she is very reluctant to be honest about her feelings for him. Because all that only gives her more reasons to worry and fear she’ll be rejected.

There’s also the fact that they don’t get to spend much time together. Marinette’s anxiety in Backwarder was fuelled by the fact that Kagami would get to spend a lot of time alone with Adrien in a memorable setting. Add to that all the fencing lessons Marinette knows they’ve had together, and the date she had no choice to witness, and it all becomes very painful to her.

In other words, Marinette knows that, logically speaking, Kagami has more chances to get together with Adrien than she does, which only makes it harder for her to admit her own feelings.

By contrast, Kagami knows her worth. She knows she’s talented, she shares lots of things with Adrien, they spend time together, and he even confided his insecurities in her.

To her, being with Adrien just makes sense. Her whole life she’s been told to achieve her goals, no matter the obstacles; and her feelings for Adrien should be no different.

Recklessness:

We’ve already mentioned Kagami is more reckless as Ryuuko than as a civilian when we compared her to Adrien. But it’s worth mentioning that the situation inverts itself when compared to Marinette.

One of Marinette’s biggest flaws is her impulsivity. Being impulsive has led her to some terrible consequences, but while that trait sometimes transfers itself to her role as Ladybug (Bubbler, Volpina), most of the time Marinette’s civilian self is the one rushing into things, as opposed to Ladybug, who’s a master at strategising.

I wholeheartedly believe that’s the writers’ way of “balancing things out.” Adrien, as himself, doesn’t make mistakes often. Furthermore, the few times he’s been the cause of someone’s akumatisation, he was never directly responsible for it. Some other factor played a role: like his fans getting in the way of Gorilla when he was looking for him, the fact that the decision of his match with Kagami fell upon Marinette, who had never before practiced the sport; his father’s need to cover his tracks…

His biggest mistakes he makes as Chat Noir. Why? Because he doesn’t have to be the golden child, so he doesn’t have to be as cautious with his actions. To put it simply, Kagami’s the same.

Meanwhile, Marinette is painfully aware of the heavy burden she carries on her shoulders as Ladybug. Her very first mission went wrong because she made a mistake and didn’t purify the akuma! So she’s learned to be focused and to take her job seriously. Because when she does make a mistake as Ladybug, it hits her hard.

Just compare her usual demeanour to how she acted as Lady Noire! It’s the first time that I can think of that she was genuinely having fun while saving the day! She said so herself: “It’s a lot easier on the shoulders.”

As Marinette, however, that’s usually when she gets to make mistakes. Since her parents aren’t controlling and she’s lived a normal life until the day she helped Master Fu out, her civilian self is usually when she can afford to be herself, make mistakes, and just be a normal girl.

Her secret identity is where her freedom is. At least until she became the new guardian...

I know I haven’t talked a lot about Kagami, but that is because with the parallels between Adrien and Marinette it’s pretty much explained.

Moving on:

As I mentioned when I elaborated on this same aspect with Adrien and Kagami, Marinette has less trouble moving on from him than Kagami.

I know this might seem a bit contradictory with the way she suffered over her unrequited crush on Adrien in the season 3 finale and the New York special, and it’s true. Marinette is hurting immensely over her feelings for Adrien. But she actually has less trouble than Kagami because she has at least tried to move on!

Among the several factors that set Marinette apart from Adrien’s other suitors (beside the fact that she is the girl he’s in love with or that Chloé and Lila are actually antagonists) a crucial one is that Marinette always puts Adrien before herself. And if that means letting him go, so be it.

Every time Adrien himself expresses a desire to be with somebody in front of Marinette she immediately tries to comply with his wishes and help him be with that other person, not once confessing how much that hurts her. She probably doesn’t say anything either because she doesn’t want Adrien to worry about her when he should be focusing on that other girl.

Deep down, both Marinette and Kagami try to do what’s best for Adrien.

But while Marinette thinks the best she can do is step aside and let him go (not knowing the best she could do is be honest with her feelings for him because that’s the only thing that’s keeping Adrien from realising his own feelings for her), Kagami believes she is what’s best for Adrien.

And because she believes they are meant to be, she keeps pushing and pursuing him even when it’s obvious they’re not on the same page. Adrien is comfortable around her on a platonic level, but the moment they try to go for the romantic route, he hesitates. Because deep down he knows he doesn’t care about Kagami the same way she cares about him, but he keeps trying to move on from Ladybug instead of being honest with himself and Kagami.

Just like Kagami prefers to wait until he feels the same way about her before acknowledging that might never happen and letting him go.

Which could play an important role in Lies...

That is the difference between Marinette and Kagami. While Marinette pulls herself away from Adrien, Kagami pushes forward.

Connection with Adrien:

This is where Kagami truly has the advantage over Marinette. She gets to share many more things with Adrien than her.

Besides their very similar backgrounds, their own parents’ partnership allows for many instances where it can be just the two of them. Adrien is the only friend Tomoe fully approves of, while Gabriel only really encourages his son’s friendship with Kagami over his other friends because that will strengthen whatever deal he’s got going on with Tomoe.

And so, Adrien and Kagami are together in fencing, they go to London together, they spend their time together at the premiere of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s movie, they get to sneak out together and have fun!

Marinette, on the other hand… she doesn’t get to do any of that with Adrien.

She only ever spends some time alone with him either because it’s an extracurricular activity (the gaming tournament, their fencing session in Riposte) or because they happen to stumble upon each other (Gorizilla).

It was precisely that that got Marinette so down in Glaciator. Seeing how she was the only one that was alone when they were all supposed to do one of Paris’ most romantic activities together reminded her of just how far away from her Adrien actually is. And it’s precisely his unavailability that leads her to find some solace in Luka, who unlike Adrien is always there for her, because he can be there for her!

The amount of time they spend together has brought Kagami and Adrien close, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Marinette.

Having said that, things are much more different when we analyse the way Adrien acts around the two…

Adrien’s relationship with them:

Despite Adrien’s similarities to Kagami and the many chances he has to be with her, it’s actually Marinette who’s higher up in his priority list and whom he’s more comfortable with.

Adrien cares for Kagami and is clearly doing his best to try to have a good relationship with her, but for better or worse it’s Marinette who always comes first.

The best example of this would be Frozer.

Adrien was trying his hardest to have a good date with Kagami and give her his full attention, and yet, the moment he saw Marinette fall or get out of the ice rink looking dejected, he immediately went to check on her. He ditched his date twice for Marinette’s sake.

Not only that, but there’s also his reaction to any of them getting hurt because of Lila. It was Lila hurting Marinette that pushed him over the edge enough to threaten to cut ties with her unless she undid what she’d done and get Marinette to come back to school.

Adrien was absolutely furious at Lila for hurting Marinette.

Look how devastated he is on her behalf!

You might say it had to do with Adrien having warned her already in Oni-Chan. Which, true, was partly for Kagami’s sake since Lila’s lies had harmed her to the point of akumatisation. But there is a difference:

Even when Oni-Chan went to Adrien, he still believed Lila only wanted attention. It wasn’t until Ladybug almost got killed that he realised just how ruthless and monstrous Lila truly is. Not only that, but Adrien never mentioned Kagami being akumatised as a reason to keep his distance from Lila, he only said she had gotten Nathalie and Gorilla in trouble.

As true as that is, it’s not like Adrien couldn’t have brought Oni-Chan up. Sure, the true reason for him losing hope in Lila changing for the better was her trying to get rid of Ladybug even when they were trying to save her; it makes sense he wouldn’t bring that up. But Kagami? We’re talking about Miraculous Ladybug’s Paris. Where people get turned into superpowered villains every single day! It’s not like it wouldn’t have made sense if he’d said “Because of you, Kagami got akumatised.” And yet, despite trying to comfort Kagami after the whole ordeal, her akumatisation actually had very little to do with Adrien’s warning to Lila.

But when she went after Marinette… Oh, boy! Did the tables turn!

Ladybug didn’t even have to be involved for Adrien to go “I’m about to ruin this girl’s whole career” on Lila! Adrien was ballistic because it was Marinette Lila was messing with, and he wasn’t having any of it.

That says a lot about who Adrien is closer to.

As I mentioned above, his bond with Kagami allows him to rebel against his father and his expectations on him a little, something he doesn’t do as freely with Marinette. Because if the two are together while Adrien runs away from Gabriel is usually a coincidence; with Kagami it’s all on purpose.

And yet, Marinette is the one Adrien feels more comfortable with.

Aside from Ladybug (oh, sweet irony), Marinette is the character Adrien has opened up to the most. In Gamer he showed her a glimpse of his most insecure side, in Glaciator (as Chat Noir, sure, but it still counts) he confessed his feelings for Ladybug to her, in Gorizilla he talked about his mother to her, in Frozer he asked her for help regarding Kagami, and in the New York special it was her who he thought could work a miracle and get him to stay.

And don’t get me started on Adrien’s love language.

As of The Puppeteer 2 and Oblivio it’s been established that while Marinette shows her love through actions (usually handmade gifts), Adrien shows his by being open about what he feels. But he doesn’t just talk about how he feels, he touches people to show just that.

If Adrien’s close to you, he’ll show physical affection.

And we all know who he’s more touchy-feely than any other character in the show.

Adrien is constantly looking for Marinette’s touch, while Kagami is usually the one to initiate physical contact.

Adrien might be able to do things with Kagami he can’t do with anybody else, but Marinette is the one he’s closest to.

Zodiac signs:

I already did an analysis on this back in the day, but I think what I discovered from it it’s important to point out since it’ll help understand and summarise the way Marinette and Kagami’s characters reflect each other’s better.

In the French dub of Ikari Gozen, instead of the Chinese Zodiac, they talked about their Western horoscope. Marinette said she was Leo and Kagami was Scorpio. Those signs are opposites. Leo is a fire sign while Scorpio is a water sign. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t compatible at all…

(Although, considering Leo is self-reliant, confident, has bravado, and is honest, while Scorpio relies more on strategies and wits, I’d say they got their signs mixed up a little).

Their compatibility per se is low, but there is a great attraction between the two, albeit hindered by their usual clashing. This is shown through the many things the two have in common, but since they used to assess the other without truly getting to know her and their own feelings for Adrien, there was a lot of friction between Kagami and Marinette.

Both signs are jealous. However, while Leo is jealous due to pride, Scorpio’s jealousy comes from a desire to control. Both Kagami and Marinette have displayed jealousy issues. In Marinette’s case, it could be argued she felt jealous towards Chloé, Lila, and Kagami because she didn’t think they were actually good enough for Adrien or better than her. I mean, Chloé is an egotistical, sell-centred bully and as of Miracle Queen, a traitor. Lila is an unrepentant liar, a manipulator, and an enemy to Paris (even if only Ladybug and Chat Noir are aware of it, to some extent). And before she got to know Kagami, Marinette thought she was cold and rude (her brutally honest responses can be seen as this).

Based on that, there’s no way any of them are better for Adrien than she is!

On the contrary, once she got to know Kagami her jealousy comes from the fact that, perhaps, Kagami is more suitable to be his girlfriend than she is.

Kagami, on the other hand, could have displayed jealous behaviour over Adrien because, as her only friend, she felt threatened by him having a life and friends outside of her, who (until Ikari Gozen) only has her family, her responsibilities, and him.

Basically, these two being Leo and Scorpio explains their relationship pretty well. They have enough things in common and enough differences to attract each other and have a good friendship, but at the same time that can also stirr issues between the two.

Final thoughts:

Despite Adrien and Kagami’s similarities, they still have many issues to solve before they can truly be sure if they want to be in a relationship or remain friends. Kagami is sure of what she wants, but that sometimes can clash with Adrien’s own feelings, making their relationship go through a rocky path. Adrien is making an effort to move on and be a good boyfriend to Kagami, but they are not in the same place in the relationship; Kagami is ready for more, while Adrien still has problems of his own to move on from.

This might come to a head in Lies. Truth came as a bit of a surprise to us because we actually expected Lukanette would break up because of Marinette’s feelings for Adrien, but that actually had very little to do with anything! Lukanette ended up breaking up because Marinette is very literally carrying the weight of the world over her shoulders. Her responsibilities as Ladybug are overlapping with, and eventually destroying, her civilian life. Lukanette broke up because of external reasons!

But if Adrigami were to break up in Lies, that would be, or at least should be, for internal reasons. Since Chat Noir wasn’t chosen as guardian of the miraculous, his responsibilities as a hero don’t tie him down nearly as much as they do Marinette (in the previous analysis we already discussed how they actually give him freedom), so it wouldn’t make sense if Kagami and him broke up because of it.

It could have something to do with it, but I can actually picture Kagami pointing out Adrien is not as invested in the relationship as she is better. Maybe she could even point out his feelings for Marinette, which she had suspected of since Riposte. But having Adrien realise that in the second episode would be a tad soon, so I’m not getting my hopes up.

The thing is, if Adrigami breaks up tomorrow, it would make sense if it actually were because of Adrien being more in love with Ladybug (Marinette) than with Kagami. Because the narrative has actually been pointing at something like that happening.

As for Marinette and Kagami, I just hope they remain good friends even after Adrigami breaks up. Because the two would be able to understand each other’s feelings better. As much as the girls want to help Marinette out, none of them really know how being in love with Adrien is really like. They don’t know what it is like to get their hopes up, thinking they’ll get to be alone with him, only for him to cancel or make some change in the plans. Kagami and Marinette do.

More importantly, the way each feels regarding where they stand in their relationship with him foils the other’s and ultimately all depends on Adrien.

Marinette sabotages herself by not being honest with her feelings and hesitating, but it’s Adrien who seeks to get closer to her. Kagami is sure of herself and her feelings, but it’s Adrien’s hesitation that hinders the development of their relationship.

Because those two misjudged Adrien and warmed up to him when he showed himself as an honest, caring boy. Kagami and Marinette fell in love with Adrien for his honesty and his good heart, when he literally tended a peace offering to them. And it’s precisely like that how they came to be friends.

And it would be a pity if they lost each other because of a boy.

@miraculouslycool & @flightfoot

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jamiedc-they-them · 3 years

Text

Choices you (and us) stand by (Platonic)

Requested Imagine - An operation that brings you back home after being cleared is met by some resistance. But, your friends are there to help.

You had been in the hospital for a bit now. You had been resting, but your friends had made an effort to see you when Malivore wasn’t spitting out monsters.

You appreciate it, really. You really did like seeing your family.

Plus, you felt better with this operation. And they had supported you the whole way, even going with you when the operation came.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw Lizzie smiling at you. You ignored the slightly creepy factor, and just smiled at her, “Hey.” You greeted, voice still groggy from not fully being awake yet.

“Hey back,” She said back. You heard her happiness, and your smile grew; she was doing better, it seemed. You were happy for her, really.

And, by the shine in her eyes, you saw that her feelings for you were vice versa. She saw how much more comfortable you looked now.

“Dad and the others would’ve come. But –”

“Malivore?” You guessed, “Look, Liz. It’s cool, I get it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. But, I needed this. I know not everyone is, but I don’t think Malivore would go that low. If they did, I know I’m happy with it.”

Lizzie nodded, but didn’t answer your guess. She just held out a hand, “Doc says it’s time to go. So, what you say, ready to go home?”

You looked at your friend, and smiled hugely this time, “Ready.” You confirmed, taking her hand.

The drive back wasn’t too long, but it was filled with idol chatter about what you had missed. It wasn’t too much, just the norm.

What you knew, and what Lizzie told you, was that Hope had redone your room for you. You knew your sister would do a lot for you, but you didn’t expect that.

“And, here we are.” Lizzie announced as she parked the car. Together you got out. And, as expected, there was your two other sisters awaiting you with a little banner in their hands.

You smiled, and the Josie used a spell to keep the banner up as they hugged you, minding to not rip any stitching.

“Wow, you look great.” Josie complimented as she pulled away from the hug.

“Yeah, you look amazing, Y/N.” Hope agreed, beaming smile on her face. It was unusual for her, but she mainly reserved it for you. And she knew this was a big moment.

“Where’s Alaric?” You asked, wondering where your father figure was.

That made the smiles dim, “What?” You asked, looking between the two. With Lizzie being next to you, you missed how she also looked between the pair in alarm.

“You didn’t sort it?” Lizzie asked through clenched teeth. When she didn’t receive an answer, she stormed inside.

“What’s going on?” You asked your two remaining friends. They shared a side glance, not sure on how to say it.

“Not…not everyone was…positive about it.” Josie said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“…Oh.” Hope heard the voice tremble, and was quick to put a hand on your arm.

“Hey, it doesn’t reflect on all of us, ok? It’s just a minority. I’m sorry.” She said, seeing how deflated you looked.

“It’s not your fault.” You assured Hope. Both your smiles were dejected and sombre.

It was Josie who then spoke up, “Why don’t we go inside get you to your room?” She offered her arm for a loop, you obliged with the want and were on your way.

You weren’t even if it for two seconds before Lizzie barged in, a pissed off expression clear on her face.

“What is it?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“They know you got back,” At those words, Josie and Hope came to stand by you as they looked to Lizzie; their question was one you didn’t understand.

Whatever it was, Lizzie shook her head before looking at you with a smile, “I’ll be right back. Rest of the squad is looking for hobbit, but I got this. You just relax, Y/N.” Lizzie told you, before she left the room.

“Come on, sit. We’ll help you set up.” Hope said, sitting on said bed and patting the spot next to you.

You sat.

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“I meant what I said before, you look great.” Hope said as the three of you had moved to laying down at the top of the bed; you in the middle and two of your sisters on either side of you. They were both on their sides, facing you, with you looking up at the ceiling.

“You don’t need to keep saying that.” You laughed through your words softly. Hope’s smile grew. She was happy you were happy and allowing yourself time to recover.

“How many disagreed with it?” You asked. That created a lull in the conversation; an uncomfortable atmosphere there.

Lizzie, in any other situation, would’ve probably been more worried about how this would go. Despite the small groups, there were more of them than there was of her. But, in this moment, she didn’t care. To be honest, it went against what the school was about –

Acceptance. And they just seemed to be the anti-all of that despite their own differences.

The levels of irony was not lost on her. In fact, if anything, it was what drove her on further.

“Hey, asshats!” She called out to them. They turned, one even opened their mouths to talk.

That was quickly stopped by a quick silencing spell by Lizzie. She was talking, and they were sure as hell going to listen, “I get that you all are going through your edge grunge phase, but you do know that Y/N is an actual person, right? They chose this, and all you had to do was allow it and move on. I mean, you guys are with Josie, even if she’s just here on visit I haven’t seen one comment against her…”

“I just…I can’t describe it, but –”

“It’s euphoric?” Josie asked, your head then turned to her.

“In a way. I feel…I guess that, yeah. But, I mean, those out there…”

“Ignore them.” Hope said without missing a beat.”

“I can’t, Hope. You know how they stare and whisper. I’m not changing it back. I just…I don’t know…” You trailed off, not sure how to fully get your point across.

“You remember when you came out to mum and dad?” The question got both you and Josie sharply looking at you; it was rare for her to ever bring up your deceased parents. A sore spot for you both.

“You remember what she said?” You nodded, yet your sister continued, “’Ok, honey. I’m just glad you’re being you.’” You gulped as she then said, “And dad. God, dad was so proud, ‘I’m proud of you little one, for being true to yourself. No one can take that from you, ever.’”

“No one can or will. Not as long as we and you have someone to say about it.” Josie concluded, holding one of your hands in her own; it didn’t break you and Hope’s stare however. Josie respected that, it was a big thing to talk about your parents.

“…And I get that my dad is away, but that doesn’t mean you have to come and ruin this for my friend who has been nothing but kind to all of you. And, what? One little change and choice and suddenly they’re dead to you? This school was built for acceptance, not hatred or anarchy or rebellion.” Lizzie was just getting more and more frustrated; more and more angry; more and more defensive.

Some of the group even looked ashamed. Her words were working. They were changing their minds.

Then, some of those faces shifted again. And she turned to see what had caused it.

It was you, with Hope and Josie stood next to you as a united front.

She wasn’t done, but it seemed that the crowd she had riled up were getting antsy again.

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The spell had worn off, and there were words. There were a lot of words. You had seen Lizzie hateful before, but this was something else.

You heard the words they used to almost try turn it on her, say that she was relapsing. Say that this was why, that she was losing control. They tried to make themselves the victims. They were the ones under attack, not you. Why would it be you? In their minds, as of right now, that seemed to make no sense.

They then saw Josie. They saw how she was doing better at Mystic Falls High and almost happy and content with herself. They blamed it on Josie, that the girl had someone influenced her sister into this; a kind coercion of sought. They brought up the black magic saga she had gone on. Seemed Lizzie was wrong, they hadn’t fully moved on, they just instead waited for the right time to strike with their words.

Oh, and try they did. They swore, cursed – seemed Alaric being gone for the time being really made them go more off the rails than this “protest” already was – hell, one even tried to attack Josie, had Hope not thrown him back.

Josie had backed up in fear, but also moved a bit in front of you; just in case.

Then there was Hope, the oldest of the Mikaelson siblings; the one that mirrored Klaus more and more every day more than you ever would.

They tried to provoke her. They tried to make it seem like it was her fault for your actions, as if she – like they had accused Josie of with Lizzie – swayed you into this decision. Hope knew it made no logical sense, but she was already growing more and more pissed, nails digging into her skin.

Hope knew that, if she needed another forest screaming session, this would have to wait. And there would be a lot more trees knocked down this time because of it.

Then. Then they made a mistake.

They looked at you.

They looked at you, the whole reason they had banded together.

The whole reason Lizzie had gone after them.

You.

To you, it was just noise. Your ears were ringing as you tried to remember the words Josie and Hope had given you before, along with the other affirmations your parents had given you.

Your friends had been there every step of the way. They had tried to do what they could. And now you had done and all they wanted was to help celebrate it and help you settle back into your life at the school.

Now though, now you were just being yelled at. You saw your friends look to you, and you saw the concern on their features as your eyes did fill with tears. But you also felt the hurt and pain inside, and how that morphed into two things; fight or flight.

As the leader of the group got closer to you, Hope was quick to fling him back.

As you heard what you didn’t doubt was a fight ensuing, you chose flight.

You ran into Alaric’s office, glad for once that he was gone. You didn’t need him right now. Well, you did, but –

You knew you needed what had been done. You knew it, that was why you had it done. You knew you had support and you knew that not everyone would.

You just didn’t expect it to be so…extreme.

Maybe you could transfer along with Josie, maybe there they would –

“Y/N?” A voice asked. You turned, seeing the three at the entrance to the office, Josie and Lizzie with a cut and bruise or two, but nothing major.

Still –

You sat in the chair, face in your hands. You heard feet shuffle, a chair scrape, and someone grunt a bit as they sat on a table – as you heard papers being shuffled.

You felt someone put their hands on your shoulders, trying to massage them as best as she could.

“I’m sorry.” You said in utter despair, “I didn’t mean to –”

“You didn’t cause anything. Those guys were just assholes for the sake of it.” Lizzie was blunt, and used more colourful language, but it was what you loved about her.

You felt two hands grab both of yours and hold them in the gap between you and them, “They just can’t accept it. But, we’ve got your back on this. On anything. You deserve to be and look the way you want.” That was Josie.

So that meant – “I think I speak for all of us, when I say that we’d do it again.”

“You helped me out of my subconscious, helped me find my strength. And, if I’m honest, I’m jealous, Y/N, you took a stand for what you wanted and went for it.” You opened your eyes when Josie had stopped talking, seeing her soft face and gentle smile on her lips.

You sniffled a bit, looking to Lizzie, who rolled her eyes half heartedly but nodded with a smile.

Hope then moved out in front of you, “What do you say? You ready?” She asked, holding out a hand for you.

“Ready.” You confirmed, holding her hand and leaving with your three sisters.

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You got more smiles than you expected, but you smiled back as you all went back to your room. It had been a day, even before this conflict, and you definitely needed your rest now.

You all made idol chatter as you went. Most of it about the school and Malivore, but you were calmer now. You were freer with each other.

It was like nothing had changed.

However –

“There they are, Doctor Saltzman.” One of the old group said as Alaric followed her, she even pointed to you as if he needed to know for sure.

Alaric looked to you four for an explanation.

As the other three went to speak, you put your hand up. They paused, looking to you. You gave them a smile, and went over to Alaric as the three trailed behind you.

“Doctor S, I’m sorry for the fight that happened. I didn’t want it to turn into a scrap. It was just a group of people not really liking what I’d done. But, to be honest, I didn’t really see how it effects them at all. All it did is help me and do good. I don’t see the bad. But, I am sorry for the fight.” You said, as calmly as you could.

Alaric nodded, “Thank you, Y/N. There’s gonna be some cleaning needed, but we’ll figure all that out after. I’m just glad you’re ok.” He said with a smile. With that, he passed you and went to the office, with the student following, this time in a sombre way.

You looked back at the three, who all smiled at you, “Come on, let’s go back. You’ve had a long day.” Hope offered, holding out her hand.

“I’ll go get the ice-cream.” Lizzie said, Josie going with her to help with the bowls.

You took your sisters hand, going back to your room.

Sure, there would always be naysayers about your choice. But, who were they to judge? They weren’t you.

The school was built on acceptance, not hate. And you were sure Alaric was going to instil it in that student or have them leave.

But, to you, you just felt better.

You felt at home, both internally and externally.

You let out a breath of content.

#hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson x reader #josie saltzman imagine #josie saltzman x reader #lizzie saltzman x reade #lizzie saltzman imagine

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malfoymanortings · 3 years

Text

my heart is buried in Venice

SUMMARY: she would rather die for love than live for fear. it appears that falling for draco malfoy puts that to the test.

PAIRING: draco x oc

WARNINGS: smut and a bit of descriptive torture (crucio)

hello again! this is angsty. that’s all i will say, so now you’ve been warned. let me know if you enjoy it. its a bit of a longer one! bold/italics symbolize the beginning/ending of a flashback. hopefully it isn’t confusing! also, sorry the summary is shit, im so bad at writing them!

She thinks back to the first time she had seen Draco Malfoy. Not the first time they had met, immature beyond their current years, but the first time she had seen Draco.

The crying was unfamiliar to her, yet it brought stabbing pains to her chest. She hurried into the bathroom, expecting to find a scared first year. They always came to the bathrooms to cry, although they did normally avoid Moaning Myrtle. Still, with the current state of the world, she supposed nothing would be surprising at this point.

“It’s alright,” she stepped in cautiously, peering to see where the crying person was. “No one deserves to cry alone in the bathroom.”

With a thick, shaky sort of breath, the crying tapered off. She turned the corner to see a silver head of hair hunched over the sink, a boy with white sleeves rolled up on his arms. He wasn’t quick enough to yank the sleeves down, and she stopped short when she saw the unmistakable mark of Voldemort on his arm.

“Get out,” Draco Malfoy snarled, turning to half his face was visible to her. “Now.”

“I would hate to leave you alone like this,” she paused, holding her hands out in a sort of I come in peace way. “I may not be your preferred company, but I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

It was almost unnoticeable, but Draco softened. It was clear in the sag of his shoulders, the loosening of his grip on the sink. She held her breath, and walked further into the bathroom.

“Or, I could offer out a distraction,” she leaned against the frame of the stall, her arms crossed on her chest. “I’ve also been known to ramble about nonsense more often than not.”

“And who exactly is it that said that?” Draco turned towards her, and sat on the floor.

She smiled, and promptly sat down on the floor with her back against the frame. “Well, I’m quite good friends with Susan Bones…” and she launched into a tale of the time when she and Susan had successfully distracted Professor Sprout for half a lesson, by asking about the mixing of magical plants with other muggle plants of certain… properties. They had been beyond surprise when Professor Sprout was quite knowledgeable on the subject herself.

To her surprise, Draco had engaged a bit in the discussion, asking questions and humming and hawing here and there to show he had actually been listening. He had subtly wiped his face dry during the conversation, and she had pretended not to notice.

“I’m quite surprised to find you here, you know,” she said gently, after their shared laughter had come to a stop. “I’m sure you have a million other friends in your house that would talk with you, rather than a Hufflepuff.”

“I haven’t got any friends,” he scoffed harshly, his face once again that hard mask he wore in the halls. “None that really give a shit. Certainly none that would-” but he cut himself short, shaking his head and staring at his hands.

“None that would want to know the reason behind having the mark,” she guessed softly, raising her hands when he lifted his head with a snarl on his face. “If it bothered me terribly, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. I would have already gone to Dumbledore or someone.”

“So why are you here?” his face was twisted again, into the hatred and despair that seemed foreign on his beautiful features. “Waiting for the right opportunity to strike? Waiting for me to spill my secrets, so you can go running off to tell?”

“No,” she shook her head, answering honestly. “I’m here, because someone was crying and needed a friend.”

Draco’s shoulders sagged again, and he rested his head on his knees. The gentle trembling of his shoulders were the only sign that he was crying again.

In a move that was boldly out of her character, she scooted across the floor so she was beside him. The gentle tensing of his body let her know that he noticed her movements. Slowly, and then in one rushing movement, she wrapped her arms around him.

He began to shove her off at first, but then he sagged once more, and rested his head on her shoulder. Again, he cried, and she murmured reassuring words as he did.

A long time had passed before the embrace ended. Draco had stopped crying, and they had been sitting there in silence for a while.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked him quietly, when he pulled out of her arms.

He shook his head, his grey eyes looking at hers with a haunted gaze. “I can’t.”

It is those same grey eyes she stares at now. Not entirely grey, they have the most spectacular speckles of blue in them. A brilliant contrast to her honey brown ones.

“Is there any particular reason you enjoy the bathroom?” she asked Draco, setting her bag beside her as she sat on the floor next to him.

“I don’t enjoy the bathroom,” he muttered, his elbows resting on his knees. “It’s a filthy place.”

“So then why, when you disappear, do I always find you in the bathroom, either staring at the mirror or sitting on the floor?” she bumped his shoulder with her own, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” he turned his head to look down at her, his grey eyes dark.

Well, not entirely grey. The longer she stared at them, the most beautiful flecks of blue popped out at her. As she stared -admired, although she wouldn’t admit that to him- the bags underneath paired with his spiderweb veins of tender yellow and blue haunted her.

“Perhaps,” she paused, her lips parting for a moment. “Does that bother you?”

“It should,” he surprised her with the raw honesty in his voice. He was normally much more reserved. “But it doesn’t. I like the thought of you thinking of me.”

“Well, I think of you quite often,” she admitted, a bit breathless at the admission. “When you weren’t at dinner, I knew where to find you.”

“The bathroom,” Draco scoffed, turning away to hide the redness spreading across his cheeks. She smiled gently, as she didn’t miss it. She noticed just about everything he did. “Who would have ever thought a Malfoy would declare the bathroom as their safe space.”

“Put a few pictures up, might make it a bit more homey,” she suggested, resting her head on his shoulder. “Although I would make sure they’re all modest, don’t want Myrtle to take any for her personal use.”

“Oh, come on now,” he gave a rare smile, reminiscent of the smirk he used to wear all the time. “Myrtle isn’t that bad.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wow, Draco, first the bathroom, now Myrtle? Clearly you’ve strayed from your noble path.”

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. The reaction from Draco was immediate, his mouth snapped shut with an audible snap, his jaw clenched, and his body went stiff. She lifted her head off his shoulder, apologies on her face, but he began speaking with an angry rush that startled her.

“I don’t think there’s anything noble left in me,” his hands were shaking now. “My life has become such a mockery of what I thought it would be, and there’s absolutely no way out. I don’t know what I’m going to do, and I need to figure it out now before he- before he kills me.”

Time seemed to freeze after he spoke. He had never even hinted before, at anything like that. They danced around the subject of his dark mark, neither wanting to bring it up. But now, for Draco to so openly admit that he was being forced to do something, more than likely pertaining to Voldemort, well. It was a breakthrough in their relationship.

“You can tell me anything, Draco,” her voice was barely above a whisper, and yet, it sounded through the empty bathroom like a siren. “Please, don’t feel like you need to bottle this up.”

Tears leaked out of Draco’s eyes, and she tentatively wrapped her arms around him. This time, he held her back even tighter, and shifted so that she was in between his legs. He cradled the back of her head gently, pressing her to his chest, and he rested his head on top of hers. Her heart began racing, and his did the same. She knew this because his heartbeat was echoing in her ear from being pressed against his chest.

“I have to fix the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement,” he said the words quickly, in a rush. “To get the death eaters in the school. He.. he wants me to kill Dumbledore.”

“Oh, Draco,” her breath was shaky, and she closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

The bathroom seemed deathly silent after that. Time seemed to stretch infinitely, until Draco shattered it once more.

“I’ve thought of jumping off the astronomy tower,” he breathed out, so lightly she almost didn’t hear. “Ending it all. But I’m too much of a coward to go through with it.”

“No,” she said quickly, pulling back slightly so she could look at his eyes. “You can’t do that I can’t- I don’t want to lose you.”

The quick admission slipped from her lips before she could stop it, and she wanted to swallow her words as fast as she said them. Draco shut his eyes, his cheeks glistening from the tears that had fallen. His jaw was clenched, a sure sign that he was upset.

“You can’t have me,” Draco’s voice was firm. “I’m not good for you. You’ll only get hurt, if they know I care for you.”

“You care for me?” that seemed to be the only thing her mind would let her latch onto, and she marveled at the fact.

“You could be killed.” his voice was less firm now, and he opened his eyes, grey staring into brown.

“I could be killed regardless,” she pointed out, nearly breathless. “There’s a war going on, Draco. I could die tomorrow, I could leave for holiday or summer break, and be killed. I don’t want to exist in fear. I want to live what little time I may have left in love.”

The words seemed to hang between them, the air heavy. Draco’s eyes shut briefly, and his arms tightened around her before he opened them again. As his head bent towards her, she closed the gap, placing her hands on his cheeks. He flinched at the touch, but melted into her as their lips progressed together.

Her eyes flick down to his lips now, the feeling of them so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. Liquid trickles down her forehead, towards her cheek, but she doesn’t move a hand to brush it away.

“Don’t you dare fucking hurt her!” Draco shouted at Harry Potter, flashing a streak of purple towards the Gryffindor. He pushed her out of the way, and she skidded to the floor.

Harry fired another spell at Draco, exploding the toilet next to her. The porcelain rained down on her, and she raised her arms protectively as the shards cut her skin. Draco shot another spell at Harry, and the bin behind him exploded.

She rose to her feet, nearly slipping on the water, trying to get her wand from her discarded robes on the floor behind Draco. Just as she had it in her hands, she turned, only to get hit with a leg locker curse from Harry. She fell, unable to brace herself, and knocked the side of her head on the sink, hot liquid spilling down her face as her head exploded in pain.

Draco turned to see her, and his face contorted in rage as he turned back to Harry. He cried, “Cruci-”

“SECTUMSEMPRA!” bellowed Harry, cutting off Draco’s unforgivable curse, waving his wand wildly.

She watched in horror through blurry vision as blood spurted from Draco’s face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed on to the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

“No,” she choked out, the leg locker curse wearing off. “No, no, no!”

Her head spinning wildly, she looked down horrified as Draco’s white hands scrabbled at his blood soaked chest. She was vaguely aware of Harry falling to his knees next to Draco, and without a second thought, she wound her fist back and punched him with as much strength as she could muster.

“Fix him,” she screamed at Harry, who had a hand pressed to his nose. “Whatever you did, fix him now!”

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle had appeared out of the toilets, and she was now floating around the bathroom wildly.

The door banged open, and Professor Snape burst into the room. She realized it was the only time she was happy to see the hook nosed man. He pushed Harry roughly aside, and drew his wand over the deep wounds Harry’s curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood eased, Snape wiped the residue from Draco’s face and repeated his spell. Now, the wounds seemed to be knitting.

She had his hand in her own, reaching up ever so often to wipe away the blood that kept coming from her head wound. When Snape had performed the counter curse for the third time, he half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position.

She stood up quickly, hearing Snape mutter to Draco. She steadied herself against the headrush she got from standing, a fresh wave of pain rolled through her head.

“Miss Cherrywood, are you able to accompany Draco to the nurse?” Snape eyed her, his face unreadable.

“Of course,” she quickly took Draco in her arms, steadying herself against the added weight. “What do I tell Madam Pomfrey?”

His gaze didn’t miss the way she looked at him, or he her. “Tell her exactly what happened. I am going to deal with Potter.”

She nodded, and hurried out of the bathroom as fast as she could. Draco was pale, much paler than she had ever seen him, which was saying something. He normally looked as white as their sheets.

They made it to Madam Pomfrey, who immediately took Draco into her care. As she watched Madam Pomfrey, she told her exactly what happened. Harry had started it, for no good reason. She left out the part about Draco nearly using an unforgivable, and as she finished recounting the story, she fell over from the sudden wave that went through her head.

Nothing got passed Madam Pomfrey. She was instructed to sit on the bed next to Draco, and once Madam Pomfrey was satisfied with her work on the silver haired boy, she fixed up her would and gave her a potion for the concussion she surely endured.

“You alright, Birdie?” Draco’s eyes were shut, and his voice was weak as he spoke.

“Don’t worry about me,” she slid off the bed, ignoring the instruction Pomfrey had given her before she left. “How are you?”

When her hand held his, he opened his eyes. He was so pale. She brushed his silver strands off his forehead gently, careful of the bottom half of his face that had been hit with that nasty curse.

“I feel as though I should be dead,” Draco paused, his voice low. “For whatever reason, that thought now scares me.”

“What do you mean, love?” the pet name slipped out of her mouth, and she hoped he didn’t mind. She brushed a thumb over his hand, relishing in the soft skin.

“I mean,” he turned to look at her, his face open and earnest. It reminded her of the day he had told her everything. That seemed so long ago now. “I was scared I was going to die without ever telling you how I felt.”

Silence laid over them like a blanket. She stared at him, lips parted, not knowing what to say.

“Birdie, I love you,” Draco broke the silence, shutting his eyes once more. “I shouldn’t. But I do. What happened today with Potter is just a fraction, a mere glimpse, of what would happen to you if he knew my feelings for you.”

“I don’t care, Draco,” the words flew from her mouth, a smile gracing her lips. “I don’t care. I love you. I am in love with you. I would always choose to live in love instead of fear.”

Draco opened his eyes again, and reached a weak arm up to press his lips to hers. Their eyes shut as their lips moved in sync as they had done many times before.

“I meant what I said,” she says the words quietly, looking into those familiar grey eyes. “I will always choose to live in love rather than fear.”

Laughter is heard around them, and she swallows her fear down hard. She vows to be true to her words, no matter the cost.

“Tomorrow,” Draco says quietly, turning to look at her. “It happens tomorrow.”

She let out a shaky breath, turning away from his gaze to the night sky. She had known this was happening, since he told her he fixed the damn cabinet. There was nothing to do. She couldn’t stop it. She wouldn’t help him. She would be fighting against him, come tomorrow night.

“I love you.” the words fall from her lips in a shaky voice, tears slipping down her face.

“Darling,” Draco took her in his arms, cradling her head to his chest. She was reminded of their first hug when he did the same. “I love you more than I had ever thought possible.”

They kissed again, this time a different passion behind it. They both knew this was a goodbye, maybe forever. He would leave with the Death Eaters tomorrow, after he killed Dumbledore. He would have blood on his hands and would formally join the enemy.

Their lips clashed and moved together, tongue touching teeth and lips touching skin. They grabbed at each other, daring to find where the other began and the other stopped. Gentle hands, harsh lips. It was a fight for love that wouldn’t matter in the end.

Draco laid her down on the cushy blanket they had been sitting on before, and paused. “Are you sure you want this, Birdie?”

“I want you, Draco,” she stared up at him, trying her best to memorize his every feature. He was so angelic. How could he be put up to the task he was given? “Only you, Draco.”

He pressed kisses to her neck, deftly unbuttoning her blouse. It slid off her shoulders, and he unhooked her bra next. For a moment, he stopped, staring at her exposed breasts for the first time.

“So beautiful darling,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her skin. “All for me.”

“Always for you.” she moaned back, as he nipped and sucked at her soft breasts.

His lips felt like fire against her skin, as he took a nipple in his mouth while his hand played with the other. She arched her back, wanting to be as close as possible to him. After a moment, she helped him slide his shirt off so she could touch his bare skin. Her nails dragged down his back as he sucked on her breasts, massaging the other with his hand.

He began pressing kisses to her neck, while his hands slid her skirt and panties off her hips, leaving her bare underneath him. He did the same to his pants, leaving his boxers on. He glanced up at her once more, and when she nodded, pressed his lips to hers and cupped her heat.

He ran a finger up her slit, kissing her neck once more as she moaned at his touch. She gripped his shoulders as he began pushing one finger in and out, before adding another one. She moaned softly as Draco sucked on her neck, his fingers sliding in and out of her. He began to rub small circles on her clit with his thumb, and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Draco,” she moaned out, pleasure coursing through her body as he kissed her breasts again.

“That’s it, darling,” he replied, pressing his lips to her once more before trailing back down to her neck. “Say my name.”

He pumped in and out of her faster, and she cursed as she said his name. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and he hissed at the pain. He rubbed her clit faster, and she felt pressure building in her stomach. She moaned his name again, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“You’re so beautiful darling,” he praised her. “All hot and wet for me. Only for me.”

He picked up the speed of his fingers pumping in and out, and she could feel herself becoming close to coming.

“Draco, I’m gonna-” a moan from her throat cut her off.

“Yes Birdie, come on fingers,” he coaxed, his thumb again rubbing fast against her clit. “I want to taste you, love. Come all over my fingers.”

Moaning, her head tossed back, she came all over his fingers, grinding her hips onto them as she rode out her high. She caught her breath, and looked back at Draco, who placed his fingers in his mouth, sucking her juices off them.

“So sweet, darling,” he told her, his gaze heavy. “I didn’t expect anything else.”

He kissed her parted lips, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. She could feel his bulge pressing against her core, separated only by the thin fabric of his boxers, and she pulled away from him.

“Draco,” she gazed at him with lidded eyes. “I want you to make love to me.”

“Anything for you, darling.” Draco complied, slipping his boxers off and swishing his wand towards her stomach. She felt a slight tingle, and realized it was the contraceptive spell.

She glanced down at his hard cock, and swallowed hard as she realized how big it was. She watched as he lined himself up to her entrance, biting her lip.

His lips captured hers once more, before he pulled away to look at her for her consent once more. She nodded, and he pushed into her wet heat, groaning at how tight she was. She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes watering. It was her first time, and the pressure was a lot to handle.

Draco noticed, and he pressed kisses to her neck, her cheek, her lips, as he let her adjust to his size. “Darling, you feel incredible. So fucking tight.”

“Can you..” she bit her lip once more, subconsciously grinding her hips against him.

He groaned at the feeling, and began slowly moving in and out of her. It hurt at first, but she slowly got used to the feeling, and pleasure began to take over. The feeling of him pushing in and out made her toes curl, and she moaned as he began to pick up the pace.

“You’re so wet for me,” Draco groaned, interlacing their fingers. “Feel so good, Birdie.”

“Draco,” she moaned, the sound of her name on his lips bringing pleasure to her. “Fuck, this feels so good.”

He brought one hand down to push her legs further apart, the motion making him hit deeper inside of her, effectively hitting her g-spot. His name fell from her lips in a string of moans, and he began to stroke into her faster.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into her ear, pressing sloppy kisses to her neck. “Good little Hufflepuff getting fucked by a Slytherin.”

Her lips were parted, and her eyes were screwed shut as he thrusted into her, her breasts bouncing from the force he fucked her with. She again let out a string of moans, his name falling with every other word. His thrusts began to get more sloppy, and his hand reached down to rub circles onto her clit as he thrusted in and out. She began to feel the pressure building up again, and her body writhed underneath him as the pleasure took over her. He groaned, and with a few more thrusts, she felt him shudder, and a sudden wetness filled her cunt. Euphoria washed over her as he did this, and she realized she had come for the second time that night.

For a moment, Draco stayed inside of her, leaning down to press kisses to her neck once more before pulling out of her. He laid next to her on the blanket, and pulled her into his embrace.

“I love you,” he pressed his lips to her temple, his hand stroking her hair.

She looked up at him, their bare skin pressed to each other. “I love you too.”

The hopelessness of the situation hits her. There was nowhere to turn. They knew all about them now, but as she lets their memories wash over her for the final time, she smiles. She wouldn’t change a thing.

“Birdie, it isn’t safe for us to be together,” Draco murmured into her hair, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “They’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care, Draco,” she looked up at him and smiled. “What more can they do to me? The Carrows Crucio me nearly once a week.”

“Because you can’t just let things be,” he responds angrily, moving away from her in frustration, his fingers gripping the railing for the astronomy tower. “You have to involve yourself.”

“I’m not going to let them use unforgivable curses on first years!” she yelled back, her voice echoing in the empty tower.

That paused both of them. She never yelled at him. He wasn’t even sure she could yell.

“Draco, I love you,” she began again, taking his hands in her own. “I love you so much. You have to understand that I can’t just let them tortue kids. If I have a chance to stand up to the Carrows, I will do that.”

“I know,” his shoulders sagged in defeat, and he sat down on the floor, his back against the railing. “I just wish you weren’t so stubborn. I wish I could protect you better.”

“If you did that, they would know about us,” she sat next to him, placing her head on their shoulder. “It would be so much worse for us.”

Draco nodded. They sat in silence for a while, her head on his shoulder, his fingers playing with her hair. Hogwarts was much different this year. Snape and the Carrows had taken over Hogwarts. The remaining members of the DA were still fighting against them, for what they believed in. Hoping each day Harry would come back, and everything would be okay again.

Neville and Ginny had taken over the DA. She helped out a lot more than she had expected she would. She felt that, maybe, part of her was guilty because she was deeply in love with Draco, and he played a part in the downfall of the school.

But he had no choice. He was the boy who had no choice. And she knew that.

No one knew about them. The only person who probably did, was Harry Potter. And at this point, if he ever were to think of her or Draco, he probably thought she wouldn’t still be with him. But it didn’t matter. Harry had much bigger things to worry about then who Draco Malfoy fancied.

“I want a nice little cabin in the woods,” Draco traced circles on her arm, his voice low. “Away from everyone. Away from everything. I want to grow our own garden. My mum always loved gardening. She has the most beautiful flower gardens, you would absolutely love it…” his voice trailed off, no doubt thinking of before. Before things got messy. Before life went south.

“What does the cabin look like, love?” she asked, tilting her head up to look at his angelic face. He smiles, placing a quick kiss to her forehead.

“It’s small, very modest,” he continued, looking at her face. “There’s a giant couch, soft as a cloud. Tons of blankets throughout, for when you complain it’s too cold even when it’s a beautiful summer day,” he pokes at her side, making her giggle. “A nice window with a desk in front of it. I’ll sit at the desk every day, and write. Bad, good, all of it. I’ll publish my own book, one day, about all the bullshit we’ve gone through.”

“The autobiography of Draco Malfoy.” she smiled, leaning further into him.

“Exactly,” Draco laughed, although there isn’t much humor. “My mother is the only one allowed over. She’ll want to help with the garden, but I’m not going to let her. I’ll be the one to do it. Hell, maybe I’ll even do it without magic. We’ll be hidden away in the trees, unable for anyone to find. There’ll be two bedrooms, one for us, of course, the largest one, and the other for…”

“For what, Draco?” she nudged him, wondering why he had trailed off.

Draco looked down at her, his hand grasping her chin. “For our children. Two, at least. No only child bullshit. I never want our children to be lonely.”

“You want kids with me?” she marveled at the fact, unaware that Draco would ever want kids, much less with her.

“Birdie,” he breathed, the smell of peppermint hitting her nostrils. “I want an entire lifetime with you.”

“Do it now, Draco!” Bellatrix shouts from behind her, her heels clacking as she strides forward.

She feels the woman dig her nails into her neck, and she can’t stop the whimper of fear that escapes from her lips. Her eyes plead with Draco, honey brown meets grey blue. He’s a mess, his eyes wild with despair, his arm shaking as he holds his wand up to her.

“Birdie..” her name falls from his lips, and she cries as she hears the goodbye in it.

“Please, Draco,” she pleads, and she’s unsure why. She wanted to die bravely, not groveling at someone's feet. “I want a lifetime with you.”

“Filthy scum,” Bellatrix snaps, forcing her to her knees. “Do it, Draco.”

His hand is unsteady. His wand is shaking.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouts, her wand digging into her neck.

Her every nerve ending is on fire. She screams and she screams, her voice harsh. The words carved into her skin hadn't hurt this bad. Her head being slammed into the ground repeatedly hadn’t hurt this bad. She feels like every bone in her body is being broken, just heal and break once more. It’s like she’s been dipped into a vat of acid, and her skin is peeling off.

She wishes for death.

The pain stops, but her skin twitches as her muscles remember the pain. She’s laying on the ground, moaning as tears slide down her cheeks. Her throat hurts so bad, and she wishes she could stop crying, but she can’t.

“Stand up, you pathetic bitch!” Bellatrix hoists her to her feet, again holding her by the back of her clothes. “Now, Draco!”

She blinks fast, clearing her vision to look at Draco. He looks so thin, so pale. The dark circles are back. Spiderweb veins of tender yellow blue are visible on his face. Yes he’s still so breathtakingly handsome as he once again holds his wand to her.

“Always for you,” the words slip out of her lips as she stares at the man she loves. “Only ever for you.”

“Shut up!” Bellatrix slaps her, and the pain barely registers from the amount she’s already been through. “I’m not asking you again, Draco.”

“Let her stand on her own,” Draco demands, his voice cracking. “I won’t kill her while you hold her.”

Bellatrix steps away then, a cackling laugh coming from her lips. Without the support of the wicked woman, she sways and nearly falls, but catches her balance just in time.

“I would rather die in love, than live in fear,” she says softly, under her breath, the words coming out funny as her jaw is still twitching from the cruciatus curse. “For you, I would die a thousand times over.”

She shuts her eyes then. She knows what’s coming. In some way, she always knew this was where they would end up. Perhaps not with him holding the wand to kill her, but with her dying because she wasn’t afraid to love him.

“Birdie,” Draco says in the voice that’s meant only for her, and she smiles, happy to hear it one more time. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

There is a flash of green.

#draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco #malfoy #death eaters #death eater #death eater draco #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco fucking malfoy #Harry Potter #harry potter series #harry potter smut #voldemort #hogwarts

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fourmarkdove · 3 years

Text

Fawn - Part 4

Title: Fawn - Part 3

Words: 3.2k

Summary: Yennefer confirms Geralt’s suspicions and a rift is created between you and the White Wolf. Angst. Suggested smut. Fluff. Hurt/comfort.

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, miscarriage, abortion. If you’re triggered PLEASE skip ahead. Please check out the trigger warnings (tw:) in the tags!

A/N: Don’t blame me. It was that fricking wish! I’m not happy about it, either, but it’s canon. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading as always!

Like an expectant father waiting outside the delivery room, Jaskier paced just outside the tent while Geralt sharpened his sword near the fire.

“No. Get out before I portal you away,” Yennefer demanded yet again when the bard poked his head in and asked for an update.

“She’ll come out when she’s ready,” the burly Witcher grunted. Another plume of purple smoke rose from the tent door and static sizzled inside. Jaskier began thinking of a verse that needed to rhyme with “plume.”

Wiping her hands, she emerged and motioned at Jaskier: “Watch her. Geralt, you’re with me.”

Sauntering across the way to her own much larger, and much more richly furnished tent, Geralt followed behind like a puppy.

“Well?”

“Well? Well, I saved her life, darling,” the raven haired woman smirked, turning to face him once they reached the foot of her lavish bed. Tossing aside the cloth, she twirled a finger and a dozen candles lit around the space.

He was not impressed by simple tricks. “What happened? It wasn’t just poison, was it? It was a curse.”

“Yes, my love,” she sighed, bored with conversation, so she lifted his shirt and ran both hands up his muscular torso, making the tense fibers just under his skin twitch. “I lifted it though.”

Craning his neck low, he crushed his mouth to her plump lips. The relief and gratitude expressed in his kiss melted when feral heat took over. They were souls bound together by a wish he made years ago to save her life. As such they were drawn time and again to this exact moment.

She moaned, tugging at the ties on his breeches pressed against her stomach. Biting down on his bottom lip suddenly, she flattened her palms to his chest and pushed him back to the bed, intent on climbing him and claiming payment for a job well done.

“So she’ll be able to travel soon?” Geralt huffed lazily, one arm under his head on the pillow.

“You’re really taking her back to her father?” Yennefer sighed, playing with the glistening sweat droplets along the center of his chest.

“That’s the plan.”

“Well, if you do travel with her just have her take it easy the next few days.”

“Why?” He arched an eyebrow down at the naked woman still tangled up with him under the sheets.

“Well, she’s with child, Geralt. But the child is much smaller than it should be. She probably needs to see a real healer to have it dealt with anyway - given the circumstances.”

His brow furrowed sharply and he gripped her upper arms, dragging her off of him as he sat up. “Dealt with...?”

She sighed, running the back of her fingers down the sinews of his forearm. “Mm. She told me who the father is. I just went to his wedding just last month. It's a bad idea to show your new bride your bastard child. So yes… dealt with.”

“Wedding?” he mirrored, breaking into a cold sweat. “Did you tell her this?”

Yennefer shrugged and rolled over. “I alluded to it. Hmm. You know she may not need a healer on second thought. Baby isn’t well. Body might try to reject it after this, so watch for - where are you going?”

Stepping into his breeches, he glanced over his shoulder at the raven haired woman lounging in bed still. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Why? Did you want to attend with me? The food was decent but the wine was weak. I so would have loved to have dressed you, though.”

His frustrated growl was not lost on her but she didn’t budge by the threatening sound of it. “She told me where you met. Geralt, I said I’d try to save her life but she’s your whore. I’ve done more than enough here, my love. If you leave this tent tonight, I’ll be gone by daybreak.”

He didn’t even have his pants tied before he stalked out of the tent barefoot into the dewy grass. Jaskier heard him coming from his own cot opposite yours. Finding it quite impossible to sleep anyway, he met the Witcher at the tent flap opening.

“That witch gave her something to sleep but it’s not quite doing its job,” the bard forewarned, touching Geralt’s shoulder. He held his friend back just a moment longer to catch his golden-eyed attention. “It’s not you she’s been calling for.”

Jaskier excused himself, ducking past his friend breathing hard with his jaw clenched. Every muscle up the back of his legs and across his spine snapped into tension; the coppery scent of bloody cloths left on the table sent his senses into a frenzy the moment he stepped inside.

“N… no… n...” you moaned in your fitful sleep, writhing and grasping at the pillow under your head.

Cat eyes dilated in the near dark, his attention drew to the shadow of your body tucked under a thin blanket. In two strides, he dropped by your side and dragged the tear-soaked hair from sticking to your cheeks.

Your head rocked back and forth on the pillow, your expression wrought with grief, one hand grasping at nothing but air until his fingers closed over it.

He lifted his brows in the center, anguish lining his forehead. Your breathing came in hiccups, clearly crying in your nightmare.

“Wake up, little fawn,” he rumbled, pulling deep from within to sound calm so as not to frighten you. “Come on, wake up.”

“Ah…” Your legs shifted under the blanket and you inhaled deeply.

Your wet eyelashes flashed open, revealing still slightly ink-stained black tears rolling down your cheeks. “Where is he? Where’s Acheros?”

Rolling his eyes at the sound of his name, Geralt backed up into the shadow of a tent peg. “That’s a good fucking question.”

“Why did he leave me in that horrible place?” You pressed, eyes bleary from tears, pain and exhaustion.

“Hmm,” he grunted, sitting back against the other cot.

“He said he’d always come find me. ‘Nothing in all of eternity could keep us apart,’ he said.”

Another frustrated grunt as Geralt sat back. As Jaskier stoked the flames of the fire outside, the walls of the canvas tent illuminated with flicks of orange light.

You stayed silent a long time, letting the length and breadth seep into your conscious thought. Curling up on yourself, you rolled over into the tent wall and away from the brutish man sitting in silence across from you. “Is it true? Did he - get married - without me?”

“Mmm,” Geralt hummed in the affirmative, dropping his head back as the reflected orange flames danced on the ceiling. He cursed under his breath.

There is a screech a striga makes when you deliver that final death strike straight through its heart; the sound is horrendous up close. Because of their circulation system, it takes them a moment to go, all the while realizing they’ve met their end. And then there is the soft little squeak of a rabbit as its neck is being broken. It doesn’t understand what is happening to it and doesn’t expect the end.

Neither startled cry at their moment of death is as difficult to listen to as your trembling gasp and wailing sob at the exact moment your heart broke in two.

Snarling his upper lip in disgust, he planted a fist on the ground to stand up, but stilled hearing you speak into your own hands.

“But… this is his child. And... I’m his.”

“Fuck.” Geralt replanted himself and sighed harshly, rubbing his rough thumb of one hand into the palm of another.

“What?” you shuddered, glancing over your shoulder. “But I love him...”

“You’ve said,” he husked, glancing at the exit with an arched brow and a changed mind. Waking you from that nightmare, he actually considered taking you in his arms and comforting you with all of the strength he had in him. He was not particularly given to tender moments, but if you’d have asked, even whimpered, anything at all, he’d have moved heaven and earth to shelter you.

You turned away from his frustrated growling. “Where is he? He should be here.”

With a huff of rage, he lifted to his feet and took the one large step to the door. Rolling over, your torso twisted and you yelped at the sharp pain. “Ah - fuck! What -“

“You were very sick,” he oversimplified, glancing behind his shoulder. “Yennefer…”

“Yennefer? She says she’s the ‘Love of your life’? I thought I was dreaming but she’s really real?”

“You should know Yennefer saved YOUR life.”

You mewled, ripped the covers down your thighs and tugged at your torn shirt, trying to find the source of the overwhelming pain.

Setting his jaw, he breathed deep and clenched his fist to keep from absolutely roaring at you. “You wouldn’t have survived - to be reunited with whoever this arsehole is, since that’s clearly all you can think about.”

It was neither his tone nor his words that shook you, rather the ache in your belly. “Something feels wrong.”

“As it should. Sleep.”

“Fuck you,” you spat holding your middle, getting up onto your feet much more slowly than he did. Bumping chests, you glared up at him. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew and you didn’t say a damn thing.”

Nostrils flared, patience dwindling, he looked over your head; he knew the second he glanced down and saw the pain in your eyes, it’d just add fuel to his fire and one of the two of you needed to be levelheaded.

“Not for certain until Yen told me a few minutes ago. Although I had suspected something like this when you told the story yesterday.”

Suddenly alert, you bolted toward the tent flap, but a heavy arm across the front of your shoulders blocked your way. Desperately, you reached both hands out. “Please! I need to go home. I just need to see him. He’ll explain and fix it.”

Your pained gaze finally lifted to his, digging your fingernails into his forearm locked across your chest.

His sharp gaze narrowed. “There’s a reason he didn’t come back for you. Showing up on his doorstep, now, won’t produce the results you want, I guarantee you.”

“But - I did everything I was told to do,” you gasped, blinking back tears that spilled down your cheeks anyway. Dropping your head, the tears dripped freely onto the ground. Tilting your shoulders just slightly into him, you bumped your forehead against his chest and stayed like that a long while.

“I hate you...” you sniffled and hiccupped, speaking slowly, clearly drained.

“Mmph.” He grunted, holding the back of your bare neck.

The rage had worn around the edges like two fighters in the last round dragging their feet; both of you were slow to swing back.

“Come on,” he encouraged as gently as he could muster, thumbing behind your neck. “Lie down.”

He sighed, glancing down at your trembling, balled up fist thumping against his chest.

“I-I h-hate y-“ you sobbed, nosing into his chest. “I h-aate-“

“I know,” he grumbled, closing his hand around your fist. “You hate me.”

He rested his chin on your head and carded his fingers through your hair. Feverish tears eventually gave way to panting, then to soft breaths against his skin.

“What am I going to do?” you croaked, dragging your fingertips down his spine, releasing the muscles you’d been clawing into. “I don’t know what to do.”

“The first thing you’re going to do is get some rest,” he graveled overhead. Not giving you a second to protest, he collected your wrists from behind his hips and drew you back to your cot, throwing open the covers with his free hand.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you whined, giving him a side eyed glance.

“Lie down and count geese then,” he huffed, clearly not budging on it.

With a long sigh, you crawled in and curled up, pressing your face down into the pillow. Your eyes closed when the blanket rugged up over your shoulders.

Hearing your voice just barely mumbling into your pillow, he came down onto a knee and tilted his head.

“Hmm?” he graveled just above a whisper. “You don’t mean that. … No, you don’t. … Hm? Fine, I will. Sleep.”

Settling down cross legged, he reached over the short expanse between you and the edge of the cot. As promised, he smoothed over your hair, and hummed a deeply soothing tune, the one he’d sometimes hum to Roach when she was being groomed.

Tag Team: @ly--canthrope @marswritings @fire-in-her-veinz @thiclikeh0ney @uncoolcloudyhead @michelle-1185 @boop-le-snoot @tearsontape13 @confusinglump @mary-ann84 @the-soot-sprite @wanderingsoulcelticheart @henry-cavill-obsessed @ruthoakenshield @nerra75 @raspberrydreamclouds

#tw: pregnancy #tw: suicide #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: miscarriage #tw: spontaneous abortion #tw: abortion #fourmarkdovewrites #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill angst

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legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

Text

Purple Lilacs

ayooo it me! Here is jasonette july saturday challenge: Hurt no comfort!

Maribat Masterlist AO3

word count: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of body fluids, sickness, vomit and death.

without further ado:

Jason stumbled into the gas station restroom on shaky, unsteady legs. His chest ached and his vision swam, blurry with unshed tears. The dirty mirror and pale blue light couldn’t capture how disgruntled the fourteen year old boy was. He was still wearing his Robin suit, dirty and sweaty from breaking up fights and catching would-be criminals. His skin felt flushed but his blood was chilled to the bone. The fluttery pressure behind his ribs was a painful reminder of why he was here. He took a haphazard inhale of air and choked on it when he exhaled. His throat itched. The tears were beginning to fall behind his mask. The infallible Robin was unrecognizable in his reflection. His domino mask shielded himself from the agony that clouded his eyes. His mind was racing a thousand miles a minute, thoughts fragmented and disoriented. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t he breathe?

He ripped off his mask, tossing it without caution and splashed water on his face. He scrubbed at the sweat and exhaust that caked his skin, hoping, praying to wash this burning sensation away. He still couldn’t breathe.

He felt his stomach churn. He felt the bile clawing just beneath his adam's apple, desperate to escape. He barely had the strength to lean over to the nearby toilet before emptying his stomach. The smell burned at his eyes as the taste burned at his throat. He was left dry heaving for a moment, but that was all his body needed to expel what was clogging his airways. The petals floated pathetically in the waste in the toilet bowl; they were small and pale and stood out against the disgusting mix of vomit. Purple lilacs, first love. How fitting.

He had wished that the best week of his life wouldn’t end this way. He had wished, wished upon the stars in the skies and wished upon every dandelion he found in the manor gardens, that he could have something, someone, that was entirely his own. But her heart belonged to another and his heart was sick because of it.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her name was a breath of fresh air, a spring breeze in early May. He had met her on a Monday, her class was taking a tour of Wayne Tech. She was the cute yet clumsy class representative with an iron will. She was alluring and charming and Jason was swept up in her eyes of ocean tides. He never spoke a word to her that first day. Choosing to just observe her joke and laugh with friends. He didn’t dare interrupt her. He saw her again Tuesday. She was in a teahouse that was close to her hotel. She was with her brunette friend, Alya, he remembered from when he overheard her chastising the girl for saying something embarrassing. That was when he found out about her crush on the model boy. Jason didn’t think much of it. He didn’t think he would have to. His sudden attraction was only fleeting, he reminded himself.

The first time he actually spoke to her was Thursday night. Her class had stayed out later than expected so he watched them from a distance during patrol, making sure she got back safely. Making sure they got back safely, he corrected. He didn’t plan to stop by her window when she was safe inside and he definitely didn’t plan to strike up a conversation. She had a quick mind and a sharp tongue to match. It was striking and it seeded something deep within his lungs. They spoke for hours, time lost to conversation, that it wasn’t until Agent A called into his ear that he realised how long he’s been strayed from his patrol route. He had bid her a good night and she wished him a safe one. He had found a friend in her and the joy carried him throughout the night. He hadn’t expected to fall hard and fast for her within the week. By Saturday his instinctual attraction had grown into sweet yearning. The weight in his chest as he waited for her class to gather in the Botanical Gardens grounded him in his spot. He had to remind himself that she spoke to him as Robin and that Jason Todd-Wayne was nothing more than their sponsor’s recently adopted son. He couldn’t speak to her about her favourite novels as he technically shouldn’t be privy to that knowledge. He wasn’t deterred by that, however. In fact, it spurred him on to get to know her more. It granted him the opportunity to relearn her interests all over again and watch her eyes blaze with passion.

He never got the chance. Her attention was divided between the garden’s attractions and the blond that stuck close to her like a burr. He watched her giggle and swoon as the boy complimented her. He watched as Adrien, he had learned, plucked a flower and tucked it gently behind her ear. It was a purple lilac. The colour complimented her midnight black hair and made her pale blue eyes shine. He felt his throat go dry as he watched on, his words withering on his tongue. The scene was truly adorable, straight out of a movie with a happy ending. He was happy that she was receiving the attention she deserved. But it still hurt that it wasn’t him lavishing her with it. He was the outsider lucky to be watching. Their tour ended with an exchange of business-friendly smiles and memorized platitudes.

Now it was Sunday night and he was gazing at the products of his foolish heart. He could count how few the petals were that mocked him in the toilet. He could taste them in the mix of bile that sat on the back of his tongue. He could breathe easier now; his lungs were no longer heavy but his heart was still so. How cruel, his first love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had died. He hadn’t remembered much of what came before or of what came after. It was all tangled and fractured. He remembered fighting with Bruce a lot and threatening his new ward. Jason was awful, a danger, but he was also angry and confused. He was hurt and lonely. It took awhile to find some common ground with his family again. It took awhile for him to feel normal again. It was hard work but it was worth it.

A lot had changed in Bruce’s nightlife. The Justice League Jason remembered and the Justice League that he returned to were worlds apart. It was jarring and he continued to long for some familiarity in his life. It was genuinely a surprise when he was invited to join their ranks, after years of struggling, but he accepted the offer with a tearful hug and grateful smile in the privacy of the batcave. He was introduced to the other new recruits, taken aback at how the community had grown during his absence. One figure stood out to him the most.

Her name was Ladybug, a Parisian heroine with some connection to Wonder Woman. Her personality was bright and bubbly and she looked like the poster child for the Justice League. She and Jason had hit it off quite well, slipping into easy banter and trading battle stories like old-age friends. Their time spent together left him feeling light and free. It was casual and comforting. Until it wasn’t.

One night after patrol, he stood staring at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He was running through a checklist in his head of all the mundane things he had to do in the coming days. A trip to the drugstore for some cough drops, a couple cases to report and file here, some League meetings there. It was his new normal. He liked it. The thought of the Justice League led to the thought of Ladybug. Ladybug and her laughter at his jokes. Her half-hearted sneer at his puns. Her going on rants about fashion and the little twitch in her nose when she was frustrated with something. It was endearing, and enticing. It was always a delight watching someone who flung cars for a living lose their patience over mundane things. He was lost in thought when a coughing fit took over, bringing him back to the present. When his shoulders stopped shaking with the force of the coughs he felt something in his mouth. It felt like a piece of paper, thin and small. Thinking nothing of it, he spat into his sink and felt his heart clench. It was a single flower petal. A daffodil, meaning rebirth and new beginnings.

The melancholy was instant, the resignation almost stopping his heart. How cruel, his second love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had decided to ignore the signals his body was sending him. He ignored the scratchiness of his throat every time he thought of her signature pigtails. He ignored the ever growing collection of petals that would decorate his toilet, or his bathroom sink, or his kitchen sink, or his shower floor. He ignored how blood had started to appear every now and again. Ladybug was his friend and he valued her friendship. He wasn’t going to let some biological imperative prevent him from making any meaningful connection with her.

It was a random conversation one day, the topic of little importance, but it had drifted to a discussion of identities and living the double life. He remembered telling her his real name, secret identities among League members being a matter of personal discretion at this point, and the flash of faint recognition in her eyes made him curious. She told him how she recognised the name from a school trip she took years ago. Apparently they had met once or twice during her time in Gotham. Her name was Marinette, she had said, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It was as if the air in the Watchtower was being siphoned out the room as the seconds ticked by. He remembered that name, and he most certainly remembered the pain that name had brought him. He died with his feelings for her trapped between his ribs but they were long forgotten, withered after his resurrection. That is, until they crashed into him at the mere utter of her name. The longing came back in full force and he felt it weigh heavy on his tongue as his nose started to burn with the effort to breathe. He didn’t remember much after that conversation beyond a hasty excuse of himself. He made it into a restroom on some random floor and all but flung himself into an available stall. His mask was ripped off his face and the room echoed with the sounds of him hacking and heaving.

His heart was a cacophony of emotions; the feelings of teenage infatuation for Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the mature adoration of Ladybug blended into a concoction of purple lilacs and daffodils. Tears pricked at his eyes as he felt his throat get burned raw from his emotions. It was stifling and all-consuming. He felt like he was drowning and free-falling all at once. Unable to breathe. His face was flushed and sticky and he felt shivers begin to creep up his spine. It was disgusting how his own feelings would betray him like this. Peeling himself off the floor was herculean. Jason felt weary and his bones ached with the burden of his own body. Superman was already waiting for him outside the stall, a water bottle in hand and silent condolences smeared all over his face. A silent agreement was forged between them. How cruel, his one love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jason was younger he never associated love with pain. Love was always warm hugs and soft touches. It was gentle words whispered in the dark and saccharine sweet smiles. Love made flowers bloom in spring and the sun shine bright. How foolish he was. Now he knew. Love was a deep ache in his chest that pulsed in rhythm with his heart. It was a strangled gasp as he tried to breathe and it was tears that won’t stop falling. Love made flowers bloom, sure, but they bloomed in the deepest parts of him that he wished he could rip them out and everything attached straight from the roots. Love burned and festered and invaded everything that made Jason himself.

He couldn’t drown out the sensations no matter what he tried. A masochistic part of him was convinced he was addicted to the pain. Addicted to the reminder that he could love so strongly, so deeply. The idea that someone as callous as he could love someone so much that it could tear him down physically and mentally. Have the force of his own heart mold him into nothing but a garden of devotion. There was a part of him that didn’t want to lose the feeling of having feelings. The immediate times after his resurrection were wrought with nothing but mind-numbing emptiness so much so that his subconsciousness convinced him that he would settle for suffering as an act of love.

The tulip petals were beautiful, but worrying. He choked up an entire bud this time. His throat was still itchy and his fever had yet to be broken but the head of the flower in his hand was a distraction to all that had ailed him. Tulips, meaning opportunity and adjustment.

The voices on the television called his attention. It was some celebrity gossip channel and he couldn’t remember why he was watching it in the first place. He moved to change the channel when he saw her, Marinette, on the screen. She was attending some red carpet event and she looked beautiful. He wondered if she had made that dress; a memory of teenage ambitions floated to the forefront of his mind. A smile crept to his face against his will. He couldn’t help it, red was truly her colour. Then he saw him, her blond partner, waltz up beside her like he belonged there. He did, he reminded himself. The blond was her childhood crush turned boyfriend of a few years. She had told Jason stories during one of their many talks about him. He was funny and smart and a real casanova, she had said. Jason had pretended like those words weren’t thorns puncturing his lungs as he listened along. She looked at the model the same way Jason knew he looked at her. He was happy for her, truly.

His fever was back tenfold as he watched on and he was sweating a puddle into his couch. He couldn’t finish his meal and the coughs had returned. His shaking had overturned his food that was in his lap and it made a mess on the floor. He keeled over and added the contents of his stomach to the pile. Petals of lilacs and daffodils and tulips were pouring from his lips in clumps and he momentarily couldn’t breathe. He was becoming too accustomed to holding his breath during these fits. Becoming too accustomed to the lightheaded feeling inside his brain, the numbing feeling in his toes and the burning feeling in his heart. How cruel, his true love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was supposed to get her happy ending. She was supposed to grow old with her boyfriend turned fiance while Jason buried himself with his feelings. He cradled her close, feeling her faint exhales on his neck. He felt her body tremble and writhe beneath him. He was crying over her, gasping his breaths and gagging on emotions. She stared, eyes unseeing beyond him. She was speaking but he couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his pulse in his ears. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was a simple job, a covert job that was only information retrieval. Everything was planned to perfection and every deviation was accounted for. Everything was accounted for except his body failing him. He was attacked with a sudden coughing fit that he couldn’t get under control and it drew their target’s attention to them. Guns were aimed and fired at them and he couldn’t get his own body to cooperate with him. Ladybug had taken to shielding him until he recovered but she was overwhelmed too quickly. Her suit wasn’t bullet proof, she was still vulnerable and the shot was in a critical place. She was bleeding profusely. He. Still. Couldn’t. Breathe.

He gathered what little strength he had and dragged her body behind a wall. He was hunched over her struggling to control his breathing and the situation. He couldn’t leave, too weak to carry her. He couldn’t fight back, too dizzy to focus on any targets. He couldn’t think, too lightheaded from the lack of air intake. It was a bad situation that was only getting worse. He was crying and heaving and she laid beneath him bleeding. The flowers in the back of his throat were choking him without remorse. He took off his mask and tried with all his might to breathe in. It was scratchy and rough and it felt more like a wheeze than an inhale but it was something. With this moment of clarity, he had an idea. It was really a last resort that Ladybug had told him about. He reached for her yoyo that was held in her hand and pressed the center dot that was actually a hidden button. It was a distress call that would signal to her partner and doubled as a homing device. It was a call for help. He didn’t know how long it would take for aid to arrive but this was all he could do at the given time. His lungs were still stuffed and his throat was overflowing. The petals were stuck between his teeth, their earthy taste rooting him. His limbs were growing heavier by the second and his vision was getting hazier.

He watched as the light faded from her eyes. As the shimmering blue dimmed permanently. He watched her rosy cheeks grow pale as blood poured out from the wound in her chest. He tried to cradle her closely, to offer her some form of comfort in her last moments but he could barely move. Another coughing fit racked his frame and involuntarily had him doubling over. The petals were flowing freely now, unrestricted from his relaxing airways. They were beautiful in colour as they joined the ever growing pool of her blood, only tainted by the dark red tinge of his own.

A new petal had joined the ones he had grown so familiar with. Yellow chrysanthemums, neglected love. In France, he thought, his mind muddled by a discordance of feelings, chrysanthemums also meant death; they were given as tokens of grief and comfort. How fitting.

Oh and how cruel, his last love.

#jasonette #maribat #jasonette july 2021 #saturday challenge #tw: death #tw: bodily fluids #tw: sickness mention #this is my first time doing hurt no comfort #be gentle on me #mlbxdc #mlxdc #onesided relationship #hanahaki disease

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datawyrms · 3 years

Text

Ectober Day 16 Bloody Mary

On Ao3 mild warning for unreality? maybe?

He was so, so tired. He’d been stupid, hoping he was stronger now. He had been, in a way, being able to actually strike back when he focused on being solid, being something like the souls he stole. It mostly just made it so when the other demon tore into him, the pain clung to him like a sticky burning acid. He liked it better when it was a sharp but passing sensation.

Going back to what he actually was helped. Hidden away in the dark, making no impact or impression. An echo in something as temporary as a shadow. Pathetic.

His thoughts didn’t keep him from sleeping. It wasn’t safe, he should have returned to the darkness of home, instead of staying tied to his humans. He was just too tired to bother. So what if it wasn’t as safe? You couldn’t hurt a shadow. He barely counted as existing like this. That’s why they named him Phantom, after all. Sometimes he wondered if his parents were not planning to name him at all…that his eager question when he was small, eager with bright green eyes in a twisted reflection of a night sky, so new... upset them.

Not like he could change anything. Just hope he didn’t dream as he slept off more mistakes. Not that his normal train of thought was much better at the moment.

The mirror unnerved him. Humans had them in certain places, but Sam’s home had them in places he thought did not hold the reflective things. Hallways, near windows, places without water. He must have been more in her shadow than Tucker’s, to get here. Except, he didn’t feel her presence. Maybe he wasn’t actually awake yet. Not that acknowledging the possibility would help him wake up. Dreams were the worst, like that. He kept low, trying to avoid catching sight of himself. Reflections were bad enough when he was awake, he didn’t need some twisted dream-logic one.

Besides, weak demons had to be wary. Those reflective surfaces could keep you there, a curiosity that might be caught in bad lighting. A half recalled memory that a human might spy. He didn’t know exactly what humans did with such things. His humans probably knew. To see the future? To scare one another? All he knew was the demon bound to it was hardly a thinking being anymore. Just the confused remains of one. Just keep moving, you’ll wake up soon. He knew humans used the word ‘phantoms’ for such beings, that Jazz always insisted to stay clear because of it. A caring way to say ‘that might be you, weakling.’ He was already halfway there.

This hall should not have a mirror in it. It should not face in his direction. He tried to cover his face, to not see his own blank eyes looking back at him. It was only a glimpse, fanged mouth dripping, his posture more like a feral animal. Ignore it. It’s just a stupid dream, with a stupider mirror.

The warm hand that clamped on his shoulder made him yelp, instinctively trying to pull away. He was too solid to do so, unable to slip back into shadows, the grip only tightening as he squirmed. A blind struggle, since he didn’t want to open his eyes. Nor could get his legs back, stuck with his tail that could do little to give him leverage.

He pretty much expected the stabbing, forcing his eyes to open, to see again. To see the trapped pathetic creature and attacker. A shadow too solid to fly, but too weak to fight. His rune adorned attacker had no face, and he could only manage a pitiful whine. Wake up, wake up, wake up. Before they carve your eyes out, like they got your tongue.

His claws break flesh, but he doesn’t wake up. The mirror just lets him watch the pain longer than he needs to. Wake up...he can wake up...right? He’s pathetic, hoping humans might save him from a nightmare, using his only free hand to clutch at his chest and cry out that there’s danger.

They wouldn’t care even if it was real. He does it anyway.

“Hey, it’s just me. What’s wrong?” Tucker’s voice makes him tremble, unsure if the dream is just finding a new way to upset him or not.

He’s got a body again. His eyes aren’t missing. It is Sam’s house. Too soon to tell. Tucker reaches out as if to touch him, but stops when he growls.

“You sounded really upset and fell out of the wall. You’re okay?” Tucker kept back, just talking instead.

It sounded like Tucker. Yet something was wrong. A stench that was hanging around. Familiar in a way that made every fibre of his being tremble.

“Did something happen to him on the way back?” Sam’s question didn’t sound as sharp as usual. Almost concerned. Odd.

Worse on her. He backed away, tucking himself under the bed so it would be harder for the humans to follow.

“Can you uh. Say something buddy? You wanted to run, right?”

Yes, he did. So...they’d heard him? He wasn’t coming out from the darkness below the bed, his own eyes more than enough light.

“Phantom, Tucker’s trying to help. It’s hard if you pretend to be a dust bunny.”

Was that a joke? Maybe. He was slightly less tense, enough to open his mouth. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound super fine. Seriously, did something happen?”

“No.” As nothing had. It was all in his stupid head.

A small stuffed creature slid under the bed, round and winged. It looked soft. He didn’t touch it. It could be a trap.

“Well uh, if you want company down there...Sam doesn’t mind.”

“I mind a little.” She corrected him. “Not anyone gets to borrow my bats, but you sounded pretty shaken.”

He wasn’t going to cry around humans. The bat was softer than it looked, and fit comfortably when he held it close for a moment. It didn’t get rid of the unease, not completely. “I’ll be careful.”

Neither of them sat on the bed, choosing to keep off of his chosen hiding place. Like they were intentionally staying where he could spot them, even if it was only their feet. He half expected to wake up now, this being some other wild nonsense dream. At least he felt more awake.

#Danny Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #unreality cw #sam manson #Tucker Foley #demonau #i leaned more into the origins of bloody mary than the actual tale #is that cheating #probably

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redhoodieone · 3 years

Text

It’s Cold in Here Part 12

Hi everyone! Here is Part 12 and I hope you all enjoy! Stay safe! 😘

WARNINGS: Language and violence.

Stone cold. Ice Queen. A beautiful dead corpse is all I see when I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The midnight blue off the shoulder long formal dress I’m wearing is worth more than my apartment. The diamond belt around my waist is something I’ve never dreamt of wearing. The two slits above my thighs is something I’ve absolutely never dreamed of showing before.

I didn’t pick out the dress. Alfred had delivered it to my apartment this morning.

A hairstylist and makeup artist that Bruce had hired had come by just three hours ago to do my hair and makeup. My long hair is pinned up in a beautifully bun, and two long strands of my hair are let down, and frame my face nicely.

My makeup is natural looking. I’m grateful the lovely woman had noticed my discomfort and decided against the heavy makeup, and instead had given me natural look.

After she had left, I remained in my bathroom in a frozen, unsure state. On the counter lies a large jewelry box from Dick, with a note I hadn’t exactly looked at.

I inhale sharply and gaze down at the note.

Wear this jewelry with the new dress. You’ll look stunning. Love, Dick.

I can feel my chest ache with nerves and uncertainty. Opening the jewelry box, I’m instantly shocked to see a gorgeous diamond choker, two large diamond stud earrings, and a simple diamond and sapphire bracelet.

I don’t want to wear any of it. I already feel guilty enough to have to go to Bruce’s gala tonight. And even worse...

Accepting Dick’s marriage proposal.

I slip on the jewelry and finally look into the mirror with my head up high. I notice that I look exactly like the girls Dick used to date back then. The kind of girls I would never become.

A gold digger.

Eye candy.

Fame seeker.

I’m aware that I’m starting to slowly lose myself to Dick. After that awful night of him forcing me to do sexual acts with him, I notice he’s become more distant than I was. We haven’t even spoke since; only text messaging and having Alfred be the messenger between us.

Poor Alfred...he has absolutely no clue of what’s happening between me and Dick. I know for a fact that Dick must have lied to him. Dick must have told Alfred he’s nervous about proposing to me or something.

The thought of Dick manipulating everyone makes me wonder how far and long he’s willing to go just to save his face and reputation. Would he even manipulate Bruce?

If Bruce truly believed our “engagement” was real, then he would surely be fooled like everyone else. And then that would be very humiliating and disappointing for the detective; the so called Dark Knight.

I slip on my black high heels and force myself to head to the living room to wait for Alfred to pick me up. I mentally scold myself to get my shit together just to get through the night. But it’s obviously hard to put on a brave face when all I want to do is lie in bed and ugly cry all day and night.

No one will ever understand what is going on between me and Dick.

My best friends Artemis and Zatanna.

The Batfamily.

Justice League.

All of Gotham.

Jason.

I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes just thinking about him. Jason Todd. He was my last hope. The night I tried calling him to come help me was a failure.

He was supposed to break free from whatever Mad Hatter did to him.

He was supposed to help me figure out how to end Deathstroke’d evil bullshit.

He was supposed to save me from Dick Grayson.

Jason was supposed to be my hero.

My doorbell rings, interrupting my thoughts as well as bringing me back to the harsh reality. I grab my black clutch that holds my cell phone and surprisingly hides my knife.

Just in case...

Alfred smiles at me the second I open the door. “I must say, you are an absolute beauty tonight. I’ll have to fight off men for you, Miss Y/N. Are you ready to leave?”

“Thank you Alfred. And yes, I’m ready please,” I say, stepping out and locking up the front door before Alfred escorts me to the elevators.

I’m grateful that Alfred keeps to himself most of the time. He keeps a space between us until we reach outside; the dark gloomy sky of Gotham sends a shiver down my bare back. I immediately regret not getting my white shawl to cover my shoulders. Alfred guides me to the limo and opens the back door for me to climb in.

“Master Dick is already at the gala. He said he’ll meet us out front for the red carpet pictures.”

I want to scoff. But instead I respond as nicely as I can. “Okay, thank you.”

My cell phone rings. I quickly open my clutch and tense up when I see the unknown number.

Deathstroke.

I look at the unread text message.

You better make sure you accept his proposal, Y/N. You’ll have to see it through if you and Dick want to live.

I can feel myself choking up from just the fear of this text message. Before I could even think or really do anything, the limo stops. We’re here.

Alfred opens my door and holds a hand out for me to grab onto. “Here we are, Miss Y/N,” he says with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Alfred,” I say, with a small smile.

Alfred helps me out of the limo and as soon as he releases me, the paparazzi surround me. I’m forced to shield my eyes with a hand from what feels like a hundred cameras flashing at me. A hand grabs my wrist and I’m pulled closely to a warm, tall body. I look up and see Dick Grayson.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Dick asks, kissing my forehead, smiling down at me, pretending to be my loving concerned boyfriend.

I’m frozen from the affection but it doesn’t last long as Dick leads me inside the humongous building that’s holding Bruce’s gala.

I’m completely dazed from the million lights shining down on us when we enter the room. The ballroom is like a dream; marble flooring and exquisite art and statues surround everywhere. Men and women are dressed to the nines.

I even spot some Justice League members in disguise. Clark, Diana, Oliver, and Dinah are here and dressed so good.

I even spot Artemis with Conner and Zatanna with Tim, and even Damian, who are clearly shocked to see me here and with Dick.

I don’t blame them for being surprised as hell considering I’ve been MIA since...the last time they saw me or even spoke to me.

I frown and try to pull away from Dick’s strong grip to go speak to my friends, but he only tightens his hold on me.

My gaze shifts over to where bachelor and striking Bruce is standing in front of a tall man and blonde woman. My heart suddenly stops when I see Jason, handsome and sexy as ever in an all black suit with Isabel on his arm. He turns around and notices I’m staring at him. I expect him to glare at me or even give me a weird look since he clearly doesn’t remember me because of Mad Hatter.

But Jason doesn’t. He actually looks...confused.

I notice his dark hair is gelled but the messy spikiness is there. Possibly from running a hand through it. I automatically want to run my hand through his hair. I even want to hug him. I want to kiss him.

I want him.

I want Jason.

Dick practically drags me to the stage where he lowers his head to look me straight in the eyes.

“It’s going to happen right now. I can’t wait any longer,” Dick admits.

I swallow hard. “Okay, but could we talk about this first? Please?”

Dick shakes his head. Is he really going to ignore and pretend that this is all real? “It’s happening. I’m...I’m going to ask you to marry me. You’re going to say yes. You’re going to kiss me. And-and we’re going to live happily after. Do you understand?” he snaps, barely quiet enough for others to not hear.

My eyes glance over at Jason, who blinks a few times and looks all around himself and appears to be more aware. He turns to Isabel and he becomes angry; startling her and Bruce, and even others around them.

I look back to Dick, but I suddenly gasp in shock when I see Wally entering the gala in a suit. He stops walking as soon as he sees me and Dick closely together.

This is wrong.

I can’t say yes to Dick.

I can’t do this to Jason and Wally. This isn’t fair to them.

Wally loves Dick.

And I love Jason.

And the thought of saying yes to Dick makes me feel guilty because I don’t want to marry him.

I can’t lie.

I can’t pretend anymore.

I can’t do this.

We’ll find a way to stop Deathstroke. We’ll find a way to help Dick.

Dick stares down at me. His blue eyes are burning into mine. He looks pissed at me. He looks like he hates every single part of me. He sees me as his enemy.

But he can’t or won’t see how this is killing me.

“I...can’t. I can’t say yes and I can’t marry you,” I confess quietly. “I’m sorry.”

I notice Dick’s hand is squeezing my wrist tighter. The pain he’s causing me makes me wince and whimper in pain. His other hand is digging into his pocket and he reveals a small black jewelry box.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Jason, Bruce, and Wally approaching us with concerned looks.

Dick lowers his face closer to whisper in my ear. “You’re going to say yes to me, you fucking selfish bitch. I don’t give a shit about what you want or don’t want. You better say yes, and you better be my wife before I make your life a living nightmare,” he threatens quietly before he chuckles darkly. “Just like your past nightmare with Daddy Dearest.”

My eyes widen in horror when Dick mentions my stepfather; the man who emotionally and physically hurt me with sexual abuse. I lower my eyes to the floor. I know this has to be the final straw. Dick has crossed a line that I don’t even think he could take back or make it right.

I force myself to look back up at Dick but my attention is taken away from him and is now on the sky roof. Across the way on another building stands Deathstroke, who has his gun aimed directly at Dick’s back.

Oh my fucking God. Deathstroke is going to shoot and kill Dick!

Deathstroke knows I said no. He knows I’m not going to accept Dick’s marriage proposal. He knows I’m not going to do what he wants me to do.

I have to do something. I realize I have a choice. I know what I have to do.

And if I die, at least I die knowing I did care and love for Dick Grayson.

Even if he doesn’t love me back.

I follow my instincts that I was trained to act on. Without a second thought, I jump in front of Dick; allowing the faster-than-fuck killing bullet to pierce through my flesh at my right shoulder.

It burns. It’s making me bleed. It hurts like fuck.

I fall back onto Dick. He catches me and we crash to the floor. I can feel him sit up and gasp loudly in panic when he sees I’ve been shot and am bleeding.

“No...no!” Dick cries out. He puts his hands on the seeping wound and puts pressure on it.

Through the stinging pain, I can see everyone around us is frozen and staring in fear at the window where the bullet came from. I follow their stares and notice what they’re looking at.

Deathstroke is on the roof across the way. Everyone sees his gun is aimed right at the building. He shot me.

He waves at me and shoots his grapple gun to come straight at us.

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #batman #jason todd #dick grayson #red hood #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x reader

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compassion-of-a-lightner · 3 years

Text

I’ve never shared my writing like this before, but I figured since tumblr now hates links I might as well?

This is my fanfiction on Deltarune.

It’s centered around the scene in which Susie rushes into Noelle’s room during the Snowgrave route.

The first and last lines of the piece are what she says directly before and after exiting the room as it's meant to convey that short visit- with creative liberties on the time-scale obviously.

No content warnings

2,845 words

Romance | Hurt/comfort

Exists on Fanfiction dot net and Ao3, links available through my #my work tag, this is a mirror upload.

“Susie’s Ultimate Healing Technique”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself!” Susie growled as she whipped open the door and slammed it between them.

With a huff, she glared behind her before taking a deep breath to center herself.

‘Keep your cool. They can pay later, for whatever the hell their problem is.’

She glanced to her hand as a familiar sensation began to flood past her anger, “Fuck.” she muttered under her breath.

That door had been locked.

‘It’d hurt less to kick it to scrap.’ she grinned as she clenched her fist, looking up to the darkness around her. ‘But then I couldn’t slam it in their stupid faces, heh. Good riddance. Now if they don’t mind, I’ve got to be the hero this time around.’ she thought smugly.

The room lay dim; Most things blur into their surroundings unless you squint through the shade. While trying to discern if any of the shapes were Noelle, Susie felt another familiar sensation.

It was cold.

She exhaled and watched her breath disappear into the darkness before her.

Freezing.

Susie furrowed her brow, this didn’t make sense.

There was no one here. She expected to find the Queen’s minions surrounding Noelle or perhaps an elaborate cage trapping her, instead it was just another simple room.

As the thought left her she spotted exactly what she was looking for shifting just across the room.

In the center of the back wall sat a bed under a windowsill. Curtains drawn allowing the night sky to pour in and providing a means to see part of the room.

Sitting on the bed was a shivering pile of blankets, was it Noelle? Whoever it was sat bundled up, staring out the window.

Susie couldn’t help but smile as she took a step closer only to be interrupted by a quiet demand.

“Leave.” came a cold voice. It seemed to quake in their throat as it came, but it was more than enough to freeze Susie in her boots. It made her feel strange.

Her smile left, replaced with uncertainty and concern.

“I said LEAVE.” The voice shouted, straining itself as a piercing wind carried hail from the voice’s perch towards Susie.

Holding her arms up to shield herself from the sudden cold, Susie played off instinct. “Hey! What the hell!?” she shouted, pulling her axe out of the darkness and striking a menacing stance, “You cold bastard, where’s Noelle? Hand her over!” she snarled, showing her teeth at the opportunity to fight.

The wind billowed frantically before suddenly stopping in its tracks, hail falling to the ground with a shatter.

The figure didn’t move.

Susie stomped her foot as she took a step closer, “Do you HEAR me, asshole? Where is she?!”, her voice carried a threatening hiss.

Silence. A momentary stalemate.

The figure shifted. Susie could just barely make out that they were tightening the blankets around themselves. It was ignoring her. This pissed her off.

Her lips curled back to bare her full toothy maw once more as her patience ran thin.

Her eyes hinged on going fully rabid as she stared through the figure, “What’s wrong? Freeze your mouth shut with that attack?” She slammed the head of her axe into the ground before her and with a sinister snicker she continued, “You know what? I’m actually glad one of you assholes showed up to ambush me. I’ll show you what a real monster looks like in the dark!” she growled as the sound of snapping wood accompanied her axe being pulled out of the flooring.

She took another weighted step closer as she readied her axe for whatever their next attack would be, only to be frozen solid not by the figure’s magic but by the noise they began to hear.

She blunk, dumbfounded, before realization set in.

They were crying. They had always been crying.

Susie dropped her axe which quickly disappeared into the darkness below as she took another step forward, “Noelle?” she called to the figure, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment.

“I, uh, that wasn’t me yelling at you, I uh… So... ice magic, huh?” Susie tried to calm things down after her blunder.

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, idiot, of course she knows magic here, we didn’t exactly knock now did we, of course this happens.’ Her mind raced.

“Susie?” Noelle asked, voice threatening to crack. She fumbled with the blankets and pulled her head out. Her face was drained of color, and her eyes looked tired, even still they widened in surprise when she managed to see her guest.

“You… You shouldn’t see me like this, after all that’s happened… Why are you here?” She was shaking. Something about the question and seeing her like this hurt Susie, it didn’t feel right.

“I’m here for you?” Susie spoke, unable to think as she walked closer and placed a hand on the bedpost. “Why wouldn’t I be? You need help, so uh, here I am. Right?”

‘Is that weird, I made it weird.’

“I mean, unless you don’t… I don’t really see anyone trying to come after you now that I mention it...” Susie was beginning to reconsider barging in.

Noelle furrowed her brow and stared harshly into the pillow beside Susie, deep in thought. “I think I see...” she said as she rubbed the tenderness of her eyes one by one.

The cold seemed to ease as Noelle relaxed ever so slightly out of her stressed headspace; As the room warmed, so did her complexion.

Susie fidgeted with the bedpost waiting on the pondering deer. “And? So are you coming along or?” she couldn’t help but sound concerned at Noelle’s tone.

Noelle didn’t seem to hear her question, instead closing her eyes and nodding hard as if to convince herself of the validity of her own thoughts. Susie raised an eyebrow in confusion as the silence pushed on a moment more.

Noelle opened her eyes with a new look of self-assurance as she confidently locked eyes with Susie.

She smiled, blushing with all the red her body could manage. Susie was mildly taken aback by this change.

“Uh… is something on my face?” Susie asked, a touch embarrassed all of a sudden.

And then, all at once, Noelle grabbed Susie’s hand off the bedpost, pursed her lips, and pulled her as hard as she could towards her.

Noelle clenched her eyes shut in excitement while Susie’s own went hide as she toppled over the side of the bed...

And directly into a painful headbutt as Susie flailed at the surprise attack.

Susie yelped in surprise, frantically rubbing at her nose and blinking away the sting.

“What the hell was that!” Susie yelled, baring her claws as she shouted all while kicking herself back up and out of the bed. Her eyes were watering from the impact which prompted her returning to rubbing her snout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just, I thought it wouldn’t, I thought I would-” Noelle was flustered beyond reason and struggling to collect herself, all while a red mark began to become clear on her forehead.

Susie noticed and quickly pulled her hands from her still sore nose and into her pockets to hide how much that hurt, “It’s fine… just what were you trying to do.” She couldn’t help but stare, “That’s gonna leave a mark you know?”

Noelle stiffened up when she realized she was being stared at and slowly reached a hand up to her forehead before reeling back at the immediate soreness of it, “Ow.” she winced. “That’s not supposed to hurt…”

“How would headbutting someone not hurt?” Susie asked, squinting at her.

“I mean, this is all a dream, it’s not supposed to hurt!” Noelle explained like it was the most obvious thing to her.

“I mean it’s the only way you’d come to rescue me, it’s the only thing that explains this whole weird world… it’s the only thing that explains away…” Noelle frantically explained before cutting herself off, she turned towards the window as she struggled to finish what she sought to say.

Susie looked out the window alongside her. Something seemed wrong. Really wrong. And the fear in her eyes before she turned away stuck in Susie’s mind.

‘I… what do I say?... Maybe.’ Susie begged to understand.

“So… you realized it was a dream and thought you would attack me?” Susie interrupted the newfound silence, still struggling to grasp the fear she’d just caught a glimpse of.

Noelle blushed, “Well, no, I mean, usually when I dream of you it’d go… differently.” her voice became barely a whisper towards the end.

‘She liked that distraction, maybe it’s best she thinks it’s a dre- WAIT WHAT’ Susie blunk again and again as the cogs turned through every doubt she had built up inside. She nervously cleared her throat.

“You… tried to KISS me?!” she shouted in exasperation as she replayed the attempt over and over in her head.

Noelle tossed the blanket back over her head, “SHUT UP. THIS DREAM JUST ISN’T GOING RIGHT IS ALL.”

“You have to tell me, do you usually kiss me? Do you dream of me often? What’s it like?” Susie excitedly asked for details and quickly felt embarrassed as she heard what she was saying.

“No I don’t usually kiss you, are you kidding! But I thought, maybe, I’d try something special this time, to make up for all of this.” Noelle managed from under the blanket.

‘What the hell happened here...’ Susie worried with a sigh. Grabbing the edge of the blanket and softly pulling it off of her, she asked, “So, do you really think the real Susie wouldn’t come for you?”

Noelle gave a pitiful laugh, “You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t. I’m invisible to her. And how do I change that? I’m too scared to try.”

Susie gave a knowing look, “Ah. I see. She, I mean, I scare you.”

Noelle jolted up, “No! I mean, yes, but you’re a good kind of scary. I... like that about you.”

Susie rubbed the back of her head with a mix of disappointment and relief, “I... think I’m flattered?”

“Heh! If only the real Susie felt that way…” Noelle sadly chimed in.

She let out a sigh, and climbed out of bed. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

Susie cocked her head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is all a dream.” She took a deep breath, “That means none of this happened, that’s good. That’s good.” Everything felt a little colder all of a sudden. “But I wanted to make it better. To make something special happen. Something I’d like to remember when I wake up, something to help forget the rest and…” Noelle rubbed her forehead, “That didn’t work.”

She idly kicked her legs off the side of the bed, swaying them forward and back as she stared into the seemingly endless darkness of the floor below, “I think I just tried to push things too fast, even if just in my head... it wasn’t going to work out.”

Susie looked away, “I mean, it’s still your dream. Why not try again?”

Noelle let out a soft giggle before admitting, “Honestly? I’m petrified!” she said rather happily, “I couldn’t possibly!”

“Strange thing to be happy about.” Susie muttered, her disappointment peeking through.

“I mean I want to, but it’s just… it feels nice to be scared of something good for a change.” She more quietly explained.

Susie scratched at her cheek in thought.

“I just… wish this wasn’t so much of a nightmare. That I didn’t leave with so much regret and…so hurt.” Another cold breeze. Susie eyed the window as the pane frosted over.

“I wish more of this dream was like this… good. And with you.” She admitted, a warmth to her sincerity. Susie closed her eyes in thought.

“Noelle?” she offered, causing Noelle to perk up out of curiosity. “Would you tell me what happened tonight if I asked?”

Noelle immediately turned away, Susie following suit, sighing as she idly paced along with her thoughts. “I see.” Susie said, an understanding behind her words as she thought to herself for a moment.

“You’re just a dream.” Noelle said quietly.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to hurt. It doesn’t mean I couldn’t care.” Susie said just as quietly, a bit hurt.

Quiet. Tense, stiff, quiet.

“Maybe.” Noelle whispered. “But…”

“But not now.” Susie finished, prompting Noelle to nod in agreement.

“Maybe.. Maybe I’ll show up in another dream. If that would be better.” Susie continued.

Again, she nodded.

It fell quiet again, but it felt less tense now, if only just.

Susie took a breath. “I’ll make sure you wake up soon.” she said as confidently as she could manage. “I'll take down the Queen and get you out of this dream. You just stay here and rest, okay?” Susie placed her hand on the door and awaited a response.

Noelle locked eyes with her and tried to offer a sincere smile, but the both of them could see straight through it.

Susie took a step closer, and unable to break eye contact, so did Noelle. Once more, and again, until there were no steps to be taken. Susie silently embraced the smaller deer, and held her as tightly as she could manage. She tried to think of something to say, but all that came was the need to show she cared. That it would be okay.

Noelle stiffened at her touch at first, momentarily unsure if this was real or not.

After a moment of accepting Susie’s warmth, she decided that she didn’t care if this was real at the moment.

She murmured quietly into Susie’s arm, “Thank you.” before burying her face into Susie’s chest and squeezing her back as tightly as her shaken body could.

Susie began to idly stroke Noelle’s hair as question after question bombarded her mind. All of them left unanswered as she couldn’t focus on any of them with someone this important in her grasp.

‘Can’t this be real?’ ‘Will she even remember this?’ ‘She likes me?’ ‘Me…?’ ‘She seems so hurt.’ ‘What hurt her?’ ‘I will hurt them.’ ‘It’s going to be okay.’ ‘I’ll make it okay.’ ‘I want to… if there’s anything I can do.’

Before the moment could allow her a moment to think on any of these, she had just one concern playing loudly in her mind.

Noelle began to cry. Buried into her, with shaky breaths, she was crying. Just like when Susie first arrived.

Susie opened her mouth but no words came, again and again, nothing escaped. Uncertain of what to do and glaring into the dark, she did all that was left. She hugged with all her might and let her own tears fall where they may.

They stood like that, as two tearful, caring souls allowing themselves to feel.

Until the tears simply ran out.

Noelle hiccuped into her, causing Susie to give her a light squeeze, and things fell much more quiet.

As the moment hung on its edge Susie took to softly tracing lines along Noelle’s back. Jagged rows, small circles, occasionally a heart which she hoped Noelle didn’t mention.

Her friends were waiting. So was the Queen, the fountain, and a whole world, all waiting on this moment to draw to an end. And Susie decided they could all wait as long as it took.

“Noelle?” Susie whispered as she pushed through her now cracked voice. She ran her hand softly down her back and listened as intently as she could but there was no response beyond her quiet breathing.

She let out a hum as she traced her back once more and got her response as the smaller girl’s arm slowly slid off and to the side.

She had fallen asleep; The day had worn her down and letting it all out had drained the last of her strength. She was out of it, no longer standing at all as she was being held aloft by Susie alone.

Something inside Susie felt at peace knowing this, as she picked the sleeping deer up in her arms and began carrying her to the bed.

Gently, she laid her down and carefully laid the crumpled blanket from the floor over top of her.

Susie looked at her face and saw Noelle the tiredest she’d ever seen her. But she also saw a small, unmistakable smile that told her she’d done well.

“It was just a dream.” she whispered, half hurt that it had to be. “But it mattered to me.” she said with a nod before turning to the door.

She placed a hand on the door, took one last look at the sleeping figure behind her, then took a deep breath to confront her friends.

Remembering herself, she quickly reached up and rubbed her face frantically to hide any sign of what happened, and with all the false vigor she could manage she swung open the door.

“Alright let’s go!”

#Deltarune #Susie deltarune #Noelle deltarune #Noelle Holiday #My posts #My work

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

Text

Sunrise (Dean/Cas coda to 15x19 “Inherit the Earth”, 1.7k)

(ao3 link)

Dean and Sam were free. Finally, unequivocally, free.

But this wasn't the happy ending Dean had expected. Maybe in the past, having Sam in the passenger seat tearing across an open stretch of highway as the sunsets, it'd be what he wanted. But that was years ago. He's not that man anymore. Dean's tired of sunsets, of saying goodbye. He yearns for a different ending. One that's less of an ending, and more of a beginning. A sunrise instead of a sunset.

Sam has his. Dean lost his. Despite this setback, he won't stop. He'll live in memory of his sunrise.

Except, what can he do when he feels those rays on his face again?

Early morning sunlight streams through half-closed motel window blinds, striking Dean directly on his face. Stir him from unconsciousness, shuffling Dean out of his dreams. Warm blue and familiar stubble replaced with an ugly, orange patterned wallpaper that makes his stomach unhappily flip. Groaning, he turns. Hopes he can reclaim his quickly fading fantasy. It escapes his grasp, Dean left in the loneliness of reality.

Truly. He checks Sam’s bed, finding it unoccupied. “Figures…”

They crossed paths with Eileen coincidentally. Not like Sam’s pointed questions and giant thumbs hid his intentions. Even his terrible acting (“Eileen? What are the odds of you being here?”) couldn’t throw him off. Dean played along, however, letting them think he was in the dark. Knew exactly why his brother and his brother’s girlfriend hadn’t told Dean about this. Salt only hurts a wound that’s fresh and open. While badly healed, Dean’s grown numb to that missing chunk of his heart. More pained that his sadness made his loved ones go behind his back, act in guilt.

Sam and Eileen don’t deserve shadows because of his pain.

Which is why he’s happy for them. Left the bar so they can chat without his presence. Catch up, let Sam tell her about those kitschy tourist traps they’ve been hopping between since Chuck’s defeat. Show pictures of Dean in an upside-down house, Sam’s head peeking out from corn fields. Hold hands. Sit on the same side of the booth. Kiss, without worrying if Dean is steadily killing his liver at the bar because of them.

Drinking lost its flavor anyhow.

Free from Chuck’s influences, Dean decided he might cut a few more strings. Namely beer. He’ll enjoy a bottle every now and then but, reflecting on it, booze never offered comfort he really needed. Only aggravated a different sort of hurt, distracting him for a while. He abandoned those distractions. Instead of asking their bartender from last night, with his tanned skin and wavy, blond hair, for whiskey, neat, until he dropped, Dean stood from their table and paid his tab. Carried his longing out the exit, drove with it, laid down in his bed and held it close. Hugged it, imagining his arms. Praise whispered in his ear, about choosing a different way. A better way. A healthier way.

Cas would be proud of him. Prouder than he already is. And Dean… felt the same.

Rising, Dean stretches. Winces as a new disc pops and cracks in his back, “Motels ain’t what they used to be…” He throws his legs over the side, scrunching his toes in the shag carpet. Smiling, “But at least some things’ll never change…”

It’s going to be a slow morning. Dean doubts Sam will swing by before noon, meaning he has hours to kill. First, he leisurely showers. Scrubs at his scalp with gentle scratches, humming Zeppelin under his breath. Keening ‘A Whole Lotta Love’s chorus, coming into his hand. Lets that melody fade while water makes his come sluice off his hand, into the drain. He switches tracks, dries himself while softly singing ‘Going to California’. Thinks about their next destination. All those beaches he and Sam plan on visiting. Finally making good on their promise.

Not how he always envisioned it, but…

Dean drapes the towel around his neck, staring at his reflection. Marks new wrinkles he hadn’t noticed, gray hairs where dirty blond were. Sees how small his eyebags shrank.

Sleeping was surprisingly easy. Some days Dean wished it weren’t. Others, it’s his only chance at being with him again.

“Nope,” he says, leaving the bathroom. Jumping out from the mirror. “Not going there… not this early…”

He bides his time dressing, debating where he should get breakfast. Wonders if a diner they passed entering town might serve pie as he hops into his jeans. Waffles between a t-shirt or purple-and-blue plaid while rubbing deodorant on. Then, tugging his tee’s thin fabric over his head, he decides he isn’t that hungry. Can eat later, Sam driving so he can attack snacks he squirrelled away when they last stopped for gas.

Knock Knock Knock

“Sam?” Dean asks, glancing at the door. No one answers. “Sam is that you? You forget your keys or…” He checks his phone. Nothing.

Knock Knock Knock

“Sam, if that’s you – this isn’t funny.” He grabs for his socks, sitting on the end of his bed. “Pulling a poor joke on your brother, leaving your girlfriend alone in bed… shame on you.”

Knock Knock Knock

Dean squeezes his socks, glaring at the door. His irritation fades, weirdly, the longer he stares. Replaced with a different feeling, comforting. Without needing to, Dean guesses it’s not Sam on that other side. Tossing his socks, Dean stands and slowly inches forward. Drawn by gravity, a name perched atop his tongue. Waiting there, scared of being spoken. Of being wrong. He doesn’t feel wrong.

Is this still a dream, he asks himself. Did I actually wake up? Dean waits, hovering near the doorknob. Remembers rushing last time, what waited there then. What he almost threw himself onto. Cycles through who might be waiting now. Something worse, a more terrifying monster. Or maybe mundane, like the motel manager. He’ll never know if he drags it out. Whether that’s motivation or warning, Dean can’t decide. What he does choose is flinging open that door and facing whoever was there.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas -?” Dean gasps, knees buckling. Laughing, he leans his weight on the door. Grins wide enough his cheeks must splinter, twin tracks of tears already spilled over. “Cas, is that…” He coughs, wiping at his mouth. “Is that really you?”

Like nothing happened, Cas crosses the threshold. Dressed spectacularly… normal. Trench coat, suit jacket, and white button-down paired with his crooked blue tie. Dean’s hand drifts close but can’t touch. Not yet. “It is me,” he tells Dean, “you… probably have a lot of questions. About why I’m here, and – and what was said when the Empty…”

Of course, there are questions. None were as important as Dean snatching Cas’s tie, dragging him into a heated embrace. “Later,” he promises, closing the door. Guiding Cas onto his bed. Falling, his angel’s body collapsing atop his. Weight proving further and further how real this is.

He’s back!

“I can’t believe…” Dean kisses along Cas’s neck, threading his fingers through hairs resting at his angel’s nape. Feeds a fire burning across his body, flames roaring with a desire for more. “Can’t believe I could be this lucky…”

Cas chuckles, “Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Never to us.” Pausing, Dean tears his eyes from the dip of Cas’s collarbone and to his face. “I searched, Cas. I did. Back when it was me, and Sam, and Jack, I did everything I could but I… there wasn’t any lore. Nothing about contacting the Empty, breaking through I – how?”

Shifting, Cas rolls off Dean and onto his side. No sooner than it started, those flames eating at Dean’s insides tempered. Became a more manageable heat, containable. Dean tucked himself against Cas’s chest, hearing his heartbeat. Awed from that simple rhythm it gives. Lulls Dean with a gentle song. “Jack,” Cas explains. Rubs Dean’s shoulder, along where his handprint was. Teased the edges of his tee, part of his memorial tattoo revealed. Cas traces his palm outline. “In fixing Chuck’s mistakes, he… he mounted a rescue mission from Heaven.”

“For you?”

“For everyone.” Cas kisses Dean’s crown, continuing his story. Whispers it into his head. “All the angels. Jack rescued us all.”

“Everyone?” Dean asks, “Meaning… Michael? Gabriel?”

“Uriel, Balthazar, Anna, Hannah, Metatron – even Lucifer.”

“What the hell?”

“He was fixing what Chuck wasted. Saved Heaven,” he says, “Gave everyone a second chance, to do right by humanity. Be its guardians like we were supposed to be. And…” Cas lays his hand where it belongs, Dean shivering from contact. Wraps his arms tighter around his angel’s waist. “Jack offered me all my powers back, and then some. Said I could be his archangel… second-in-command, in all of Heaven.”

Dean lifts his head, frowning. Studies Cas with a suspicious wrinkle creasing his brow. He deflates somewhat, disappointment rocking into him like heavy waves. Routine. Expected, since Cas was exactly where he wanted. But then, isn’t that answer enough? Dean asks regardless. “Did you take it?”

“I thanked him for the offer,” Cas says, “however my place was elsewhere, here on Earth… with you.” His hand moves, cupping Dean’s cheek. Thumb brushes his lip. “And when our time comes, I’ll rejoin Heaven at your side.”

Cas’s heartbeat makes sense, now. It never did that before.

“We’ve got a long time before we croak, Cas,” Dean jokes, crawling higher up his bed. Enough that he can press their foreheads together. “You think you can handle it?”

“I waited millennia to meet you, and then years just so I can hold you like this.” Cas closes the distance, capturing Dean’s lips. “I’m hoping our future is excruciatingly slow.”

“Our future…” He relaxes, allowing a few more kisses before he starts again. “Y’know, I… I thought I’d never get to say that. Figured, after Jack took the reigns from Chuck, this was all we’d get and – and having everyone back was nice. But you weren’t there, and I hurt. When you died, I wanted to sit there and let myself waste away and join you. Except if I did, you’d be so angry and – that’s what’s been keeping me going. You loved me so much – and were pained whenever I was… I couldn’t do that to myself. Punishing myself wouldn’t be fair. So I thought about my future, how I can live it for those I loved. Be there… the person I’ve become, and not who I used to be. But now…”

“Now you can be a little selfish,” Cas says. “We can be selfish.” He tickles Dean’s chin, hands roving across his body. “What should we do, for the first day of the rest of our lives?”

Dean doesn’t dawdle. “I want to lay here,” he says, “Lay here the whole day, in your arms, telling you how much I love you.”

“…I don’t see any problems with that.”

Neither did Dean, which is why he suggested it. They fix themselves, first. Cas sheds most of his outer layers, leaving himself only in his boxers. Dean hurls his jeans off fast, jumping under the covers. Giddy as Cas joins him, both men facing each other. Hands joined above their sheets, Cas’s palm fitting perfectly.

“Well?” Cas arches his brow, “How much do you love me?”

Dean kisses him, ruining it by smiling too hard. “I love you too much, and not enough.”

#supernatural #spn #spn15 #15x19 #15x19 inherit the earth #15x19 coda #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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wajjs · 3 years

Note

prompt part: the taliajaybru continuation of your bb dami fic? where everyone is still soft and nothing hurts (too much) and bruce catches up on how to be with the people he loves?

omegaverse, omega!jay (ft. male breastfeeding - a very short scene at the very beginning)

continuation of this fic

In my darkness I search for you

Breeze comes in through the window that had been closed.

Breeze comes in, makes the curtains flutter, and Jason doesn't look up from where Dami's head is nestled in his arms, face pressed to his chest. He doesn't look up as he strokes the thin hairs on the back of the head, as he smiles down at the expression of pure concentration Damian has while staying latched onto his nipple.

Jason doesn't look up and he doesn't need to, because he knows who is standing in front of him, tense and agitated and—he wonders what kind of thoughts are plaguing that head. What kind of picture does he paint, and how is it being interpreted?

Damian's tiny hands flex on Jason's chest and it makes him laugh.

He also thinks he can hear a single broken sob coming from the pillar of kevlar, weapons and living, breathing anguish.

When he goes back to the manor, he's carrying a small travel bag with diapers, a few onesies, towels, and Damian's favorite toys. It's clear he's not here for a prolonged stay. He also doesn't come back to the family house through the cave in the middle of the night, like a ghost from days past that descends upon everyone present like a curse. Instead, he walks up the steps to the front door and bounces his baby in his arms. And he waits.

Not for long, though. Because there it is Alfred, looking like he always does and if Jason notices new wrinkles, he doesn't say a thing. He smiles, a small, shy thing, and shifts Damian to just one arm, propping him up on his side.

"Hey there, Alfie," Jason says. If there's a pang of nostalgia clanging in between his ribs, he stays quiet about it.

Alfred's eyes are wide open. This is the most caught he's ever looked.

"Master Jason," he gasps, hand shaking around the doorknob. The lack of steadiness becomes even more obvious when the older man's eyes drift until they are focused on the baby.

Jason understands the surprise. But also, it's getting cold and Damian is still getting better from that trip to—

"I apologize," Alfred quickly recomposes himself, stands to the side as he opens the door as far as it goes, "please, master Jason, please come in."

He smiles and steps inside. Familiarity rushes through him. The house seems stuck in time, as always, and he… he's changed so much.

Bruce can't stop looking at him. The man is pale and silent and he looks at Jason and his baby like they are both going to vanish the minute he blinks. Jason doesn't reassure him that this isn't a half-crazed delusion, this isn't a vision, he's here, he's real. No, he makes no attempt at comforting him. Jason knows more than well it would fall upon stubborn ears.

Alfred is the one sitting by his side and smiling as he watches with an avid eye while Damian plays in his baby chair. Well, not his, but the one that's never left the manor, much like everything else that ever entered here. Still sturdy as ever, and Jason sits next to his child and he kisses the soft hairs.

Sometimes he can't believe this is his reality.

"How," Bruce finally asks.

Even with the fireplace lit up, the room drops to sub-zero temperatures.

"I think you're well acquainted with how babies are made, B."

That's not it, though. The three adults present know.

"How did you come back?"

At least they are talking, Jason thinks, and Bruce has yet to force him into completing one medical scan after the other. It's only a matter of time for that, though. Everyone is well aware.

At the end of the day, well into the night, he's sitting by the small table in the kitchen, Damian dozing off in his arms, waiting for the kettle to start whistling. It's late, now. Late enough for Batman to be expected to be seen prowling the city, and yet the man under the cape is here, by Jason's side. Closer, so much closer than before.

"He looks like Talia," Bruce says and the air he exhales as he speaks brushes Jason's cheek.

"I know," with a rogue smile, he turns towards the other, shifts his hold so his intentions are clear. "Do you want to hold him?"

In typical Bruce fashion, the answer he gets is: "Stay."

And there are so many things left to be said. So many silenced truths waiting round the corner for their best moment to strike. Speeches Jason has rehearsed, over and over, in front of a mirror—fueled by fear and pain and anger and… and grief. Things he's thought about in the middle of training around the world with Talia's guidance.

Things that moved to the very back of his priorities when he discovered that he was—

And so he resigns himself to be, for once, the bigger person.

"I'll stay for the night."

Talia's a beauty that escapes definition, elegantly sprawled on the couch, and Jason feels warmth when he sees her the moment he crosses the door. It's as much his instincts telling him that's my alpha as it is him loving her beyond all that. There's a soft noise forming deep within his chest that has Damian reacting as well, and she laughs with such a wonderful melody.

"We missed you," he says as Damian tries to reach out, both arms extended towards her.

"I'm happy to see you doing much better," Talia stands and picks the baby in her arms. He belongs there as much as he belongs in Jason's hold. "I apologize I couldn't help when you needed me."

"Nonsense," Jason huffs a little, his cheeks getting warm, "you help us all the time. We wouldn't—"

She shushes him with a soft kiss on his lips. It makes Jason's blush grow darker, stirs up half asleep needs and wants and…

He exhales shakily, slumping against the nearest wall and letting the bag fall to the floor. Talia's eyes shine with a new light, one he's seen quite a few times before. They both know what this means.

"I shouldn't," he swallows, runs his hand over his forehead to push his hair out of his face, "I shouldn't go through one so soon, right?"

"You've been with him," her words are not reprimanding. They never are, when she gets it so well, "you've been around him more and more, lately. There are even rumors going around in high society circles. Gossip."

"But," looking at her face, taking in her expression, he shakes again, bites his fist because he needs a distraction. It's not happening just yet, but it's coming. The one thing he did not miss at all. "That… that couldn't be it…"

Talia smiles. She steps closer to him so she can kiss him again. "You've always loved him, dearest."

Jason's knees get a little weaker. He tries not to cry.

"I love you," he says. Desperation adds weight to his voice.

"I know you do," cradling Damian in her arms, she brushes his cheek with her lips, feels his exhale close to her ear, "and I love you, too, dearest."

What Talia doesn't have to say out loud, because he gets it, is: worry not. I'll find a solution.

The ridiculous thought of he's too big for this room keeps repeating itself, like a blinking neon billboard, inside Jason's head. Over and over, till words lose meaning and—

His breath hitches high in his throat and Bruce, god, Bruce Bruce Bruce, he gives him a twitch of his lips that passes for reassurance, an almost smile that Jason used to live for. He's different now, he's grown, he's, he… Talia is right, and Jason looks for her, sees her sitting by the edge of the bed, right next to him. He feels exposed, vulnerable in ways he hates, but he's safe. He's the safest he can be, here, with them paying attention to him.

"Jason," Bruce's voice is soft yet commanding and their eyes meet again. "I can leave if you—"

"No," he says too quickly, reaching out, sitting up on the bed so he can hold onto the other's clothes, "no, don't."

"Beloved," Talia scolds Bruce from behind Jason's shoulders. She's the one pushing him back down onto the mattress, the one massaging away the lines of tension taking over. "Don't tease him like this. Surely you know he's been waiting for you all this time."

Forced into view, being made to be seen, Jason gulps, closes his eyes so he doesn't get to see whatever expression is forming on Bruce's face. He's. He's embarrassed but there is warmth simmering low and insistent in his gut, warmth that gets stronger the more he's made to wait. All the scents, the smell of alpha, they are all making him dizzy, making him want. And he's achingly empty. Why aren't they…?

"I'm sorry, Jason," Bruce whispers and Jason gasps, there's the dip in the mattress, the line of heat of a body broad and big like his own laying on top of him.

Then, then there are the touches. The softest drag of fingertips over his cheek, the line of his jaw, the dip of his collarbones.

"I didn't mean to make you wait so long."

When he blinks and looks at them, at Talia, at Bruce, he's both lost and found. He needs. Legs falling open in the most natural of invitations, he bares his neck, presents himself, shivers and swallows back breathless gasps that betray just how much he craves. Like this, in the cradle of their embrace, like this Jason doesn't have to think of his fears, his anger, the wounds that never heal.

With Bruce on top of him, shedding their clothes, with Talia's fingers in his hair, with all this thorough attention, Jason doesn't have to think about all that he's lost or given up.

Like this, for this moment, he can pretend.

In the peak of winter, bundled up in worn out sweaters, cheeks red and an easy smile on his face, Jason sits on a cushion on the floor, watching as Damian plays next to him. He's giggling, babbling, round and soft and so happy, it's like there are actual stars in his eyes. The two of them paint the most incredible and magical of pictures. An allegory of second chances and new beginnings, of love, of dedication. Of loyalty.

Talia stands by the door, she's always looking, always from a certain distance, like someone who's always protecting. And there is much to protect, here. Much to keep safe.

Bruce stops by her side and his eyes follow the line of her sight. The smile that he gives, it's the most natural smile he's shown in years.

"You saved him," Bruce speaks barely above a whisper.

"Beloved," Talia sighs, leans into his side like all three of them are indeed normal people, like this arrangement won't bring problems, like they get to have a chance at a normal life, "I didn't do anything. He actually saved all three of us."

#jaytalia #brujay #taliajaybru #talia al ghul #jason todd #bruce wayne #omega jason todd #blob writes #blob's prompt party #the very last one!#setsailslash

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