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herecomesnaya · 3 years

Note

Oh here I am, I think I'll take a bottle of: Roman’s abusive tactics have worn down Jason 2020, if you don't mind, thank you very much 🤲

yes indeedy! let’s see what I got here...

so, in the beginning, Jason was a lot different than he is now in terms of attitude. snarkier. more willing to fight back. his internal monologue less doubtful and uncertain of himself. able to spit Roman’s cum into his wine glass and walk away without a second thought. says no out loud more often, implies Roman is the crazy one.

but then, slowly, it changes around. it’s (I hope) subtle at first. Roman’s first tactic to start breaking Jason down isn’t to tear him down, but to build him up. he calls him a good boy. praises him for taking it so well. shows the barest modicum of care at some points, which feels like a hell of a lot to Jason, considering 1) it’s Black Mask and 2) Jason doesn’t ever particularly feel like he’s worthy of praise, so it leaves more of an impact when it happens.

starting in chapter 4, Roman begins to change Jason’s line of thinking from what he wants to what Roman wants. it starts off most evidently during sex, so Jason doesn’t realize what’s happening, just thinks of it in the context of it being a play scene. but the reason Roman broke him down until Jason told him to do whatever he wanted to him is because he was trying to prime Jason to carry that belief with him outside of the bedroom.

by chapter 5, he’s managed to convince Jason slowly over the course of the fic that what Roman wants, though, is actually what Jason wants. Jason may not entirely believe it yet, but Roman consistently reinforces this narrative:

“I-I— I'm sorry, okay?” he says, hoping that'll be the end of it. “I was wrong. You were right. Could you stop being weird now?”

“Oh, but I'm only giving you what you want,” Roman says, his voice like silk over ice. “Let's try things your way. What do you say, boys? Hm? Should we give Red Hood's methods a chance?”

the purpose is to make Jason doubt himself. to gaslight him into thinking that he practically asked to be treated like shit. because he comes when they have sex, and Roman treats him like shit while they fuck, so clearly that means Jason’s desires = being treated like shit, right?

chapter 6 is probably Jason’s last big defiant action before he gets, well, not completely complacent, but pretty damn close. fucking Chain is something he’d never have done at the beginning of the fic, but by this point, his psyche has already been re-shaped a bit by Roman’s tactics. sex is at the forefront of his mind where it wouldn’t have been before. sex is a tactic to get what you want from someone: he learned that from Roman.

by the end of the chapter, he’s gone through subspace (not for the first time in the fic, but more on that in my subspace meta), and while he’s still in that state, Roman does one of his little tactics to get Jason to trust him more: he takes off his mask while they’re in bed together, although he doesn’t let Jason see.

in chapter 7, we get more of Roman undermining Jason’s intelligence:

“Oh, Red,” Roman says with a shake of his head. “Still tragically incompetent with words, as always. You're lucky I know you well enough to realize you've got more going in there than you let on.” He accompanies this with a tap to his temple, and Jason at least has the good sense to feel offended.

he constantly reinforces the narrative that Jason has more brawns than brain, and needs someone like Roman to get him to “think clearly.” this is meant to make Jason doubt himself, wonder if he’s really thinking straight when Roman isn’t in his head.

in chapter 7, Jason also asks for one of the things he’s consistently been denied: boundaries. and Roman’s response?

“I admit I was a bit overzealous. I apologize,” Roman says, not sounding very contrite. “But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You need to trust that whatever I do to you, it'll work out in your favor. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Roman asks for obedience, not thought. trust, not mutual understanding. it’s about what he wants, and Jason, more and more, is starting to go along with it.

and what happens when Jason trusts Roman? well, he gets one of the best fucks of his life...

but also, a bunch of people die. whoops?

Jason’s guilt over this incident is so strong, and Dick comes into the story at exactly the perfect time to exacerbate that. in chapter 8, here’s where things really take a turn for the worse.

Jason is put in a position where he has to justify his attraction to Roman, and defend himself against actions that he feels personally responsible for. and what happens when he does that? it reinforces the until now unspoken belief that he really does want Roman to do whatever he wants to him.

because now there’s another party involved. now Dick knows he didn’t fight back like he “could” have, like he “should” have. now Jason, in his mind, has outside confirmation that he’s a willing party in this, and even goes so far as to wish he’s being raped to avoid having any culpability in it.

(the irony here being that Jason is being raped, because Roman consistently pushes past his boundaries when he says a clear “no.” he just doesn’t realize that it still counts as rape even if you come. he’d realize this if it were someone else in his position, but because it’s him, because he’s Jason Todd, because he’s stupid, because he doesn’t know how to admit what he wants, it can’t be rape. it can’t be. right?)

so he ends up leaving the confrontation with Dick feeling more isolated from his family, his only possible support system. feeling on edge, terrified that Dick will tell Bruce, and that he’ll be ousted from the family again, the black sheep that no one likes.

it’s this guilt and doubt and pain and terror that brings him into Roman’s arms, where he does arguably the most extreme session of the fic to that point. and that’s exactly where Roman wants him.

the next day, Roman really ramps things up. he sets up a fake situation where it appears that he’s been worriedly tending to Jason’s wounds all night. author’s note: he hasn’t. he’s full of fucking shit.

this line right here?

“I knew it,” he says a moment later, shoulders sagging under the tailored sleeves of his suit. “I knew you'd wake up as soon as I left.”

this is a little writer’s trick we in the biz like to call “a lie.” Roman can say that line literally whenever he comes into Jason’s room, and it’s like, oops, he only just stepped out for a minute! teehee! when in reality, he’s left Jason alone the entire night. Jason never receives proper aftercare, this is intentional.

but it still works. Roman manages to convince Jason, in his despair, to part with the knowledge that he used to be Robin. Jason is so alone at this point, he just wants someone to know that he’s in pain. and Roman has gotten him into subspace and “taken away the pain” often enough that Jason relies on him for it now. it’s like a drug to him.

and then comes the present. a simple gesture, and an easy one when you’re as rich as Roman Sionis. just a couple books. but to Jason, they mean so much more. they’re a “confirmation” that Roman listened to him speak about more than just business and sex. a “confirmation” that he does care, at least a little bit.

spoilers: he doesn’t. he doesn’t at all. it’s just a cheap way to endear Jason to him further, and Jason is in such an emotionally wrecked state that it actually works.

and then what does Roman do right when Jason has that realization?

he buys a bunch of hookers and spends all night paying attention to one.

give Jason attention, take it away. make him jealous. make it so that Jason is the one who wants Roman’s attention, not the other way around. and it works.

and when Jason gets upset and expresses that to Roman, his feelings are again downplayed and minimized.

“...I already told you what this means. Did you see a collar on her?”

It takes a second for Jason to realize Roman’s let up on his throat enough for him to speak. When he does, it’s hesitant and raspy.

“...No.” Roman lifts him by the neck, smacks his head pointedly back against the concrete. Jason corrects himself. “No, sir.”

Again, his airway gets cut off. “That’s right. Just because I’ve got some bimbo hanging off my arm doesn’t mean I give a damn about her one way or the other. This was supposed to boost morale, after everything that’s happened.”

Jason winces. He wonders if “everything” means his illness, or if it stretches all the way back to the former lieutenants now headless and chained to the bottom of Gotham Harbor. Either way, it’s his fault. That much is clear.

so now, once again, Jason feels responsible for his own anguish, even when it’s Roman’s fault, specifically building him up and tearing him down again. gaslighting him more to make him feel crazy. like he can’t trust his own emotions. like he needs Roman to make sense of them for him.

so Jason gets drunk to deal with the pain. and Roman eventually relents and gives him the attention he wants.

how does Jason respond?

a drunken love confession. Jason is now so broken down that he mistakes Roman’s token affection for love. he wants it to be love. he needs it to be, because that would make everything make sense. the way he feels. the way Roman is acting. everything.

and then, once Jason confesses, we get another sharp slap to the face by Roman: his “punishment” for being driven to drink, being cuckolded by Ms. Li. Roman knows at this point that Jason loves him. he’s using that against him by forcing Jason to watch him with someone else.

but he also throws him a bone: the knowledge that there’s a shipment coming in. he knows Jason wants to know about it. knows why he’s there. he needs to keep Jason tethered to him, keep him feeling like he’s getting what he wants when he’s actually doing exactly what Roman wants.

we can also see Roman continuing to subtly tear down Jason’s confidence in himself:

“Son, please,” Roman sighs, lifting a hand to cut him off. “Quite the contrary. It wasn’t an accident that I let you overhear that last night. That was your reward for complying so well, if anything.”

Immediately, Jason feels like his outburst was overblown. He shrinks back into his seat, looking down at the scraps of food on his plate.

Jason isn’t allowed to question Roman. if he does, it’s only because he’s an overdramatic brat. his feelings are constantly minimized, replaced by whatever feelings Roman deems it appropriate for him to have.

and then we get to the most recent chapter, with Roman manipulating Jason into having a conversation with Batman. Jason is given a week to prepare what he wants to say. and what does Roman do?

he doesn’t give Jason a second alone to think. constantly on him, fucking him, hurting him, giving him pleasure, distracting him. he doesn’t want Jason to be prepared. he wants him to be caught off-guard and thinking only of what Roman wants. then, only then, will he be the perfect little soldier to stand in front of Batman and pledge his allegience to Black Mask properly.

and that’s where we left off! there’s going to be even more delicious, horrible manipulation in the newest chapter, so I hope you guys are excited! can’t wait to publish it!

#ask #fic chatter #Blurry #daddy tag #tw rape #tw abuse #elidebrey

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parashiteposting · 3 years

Text

Have I not listed info abt human x Parasite tragic oc yet? Weird

Scientist man

token cishet

If bury ur straights was a trope

(I didn't really mean to it just happened)

Loves his beautiful gf and/or wife because wow she is cool

Likes to learn things about her alien biology

Thoughts move faster than his mouth

Bad at explaining himself

Eventually realized something he couldn't consider moral and tries to leave her for her own good

Does not actually explain this

Oops.

Parasite lady

I'm not actually sure what she does but I get the impression of housewife???

In relationship with scientist guy for convenience

What convenience? I don't remember

Doesn't really mind him poking at her weird cells

Does end up subconsciously attached

Did not take him telling her he was leaving very well because she thinks he's betrayed her to someone bigger

Leaves their shared house and rides a bus far away without anything but the clothes on her back and a new face

"She will never let another close again."

Sees Parasite ocs couple from far away and maybe gets a little envious without understanding what she's feeling

I have No idea if this is her story or only a prologue

Unlike the other two ocs where they're characters with no plot ideas, this is tragic plot idea with barely any character ideas

Basically I have no idea what either of these two look like, I just brained a Tragedy that's sad but not in the visibly emotional way most tragedies are sad

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years

Note

let's get those Multiples Of Four for the lihn asks

Thank Yoy here i gooo

4) Favorite exchange(s)?

i like the conversation when sheila stays behind with susannah while the latter gets changed into the uniform skirt or whichever costume piece lol and susannah is clearly like trying to Fit In as she would with the girls as a whole group re: just sheila but that's not really what sheila herself is about so it's not going anywhere at first. it was very funny when judith just smacks susannah's lunch tray straight down onto the floor rip. and of course i love kitty Addressing susannah leading into masochist

8) Favorite costume(s)?

hmm not great at noticing these details (especially the first time around and in non-hq footage lol) but i Did notice (and appreciate) how all the characters were costumed quite differently in a very Personal Style sort of way, v helpful to characterize them each and help distinguish them earlier on. i did like susannah's costumes a lot with the yellow / purple and patterns and vests and carefully styled hair and her post-timeskip look was fantastic as well

12) Favorite background moment(s)?

again i was pretty focused on the foreground stuff really lol and i don't really remember anything where i was noticing something happening only in the background. but a more Literal background moment, i too really enjoyed the silhouettes of the girls striking poses being projected onto the bg behind susannah at the beginning of the show, very effective and Dramatic

16) Underrated moment(s) in the show?

i don't think i have a real answer re: what's Underrated mostly b/c i've already seen so much good analysis & appreciation from people about pretty much everything........so a vaguely tangential answer is about wishing it was just a Little more evident that Kitty And Dorothy Have Their Own Thing Going On, which like, yeah maybe it's easier to tell in person watching the show, but......and i Do like that kitty's connection to susannah is so clearly more general than their Relationships (or potential ones / wanting one) b/c of course susannah's dilemma around goes beyond Just the particular forbidden romance with this particular person

i also found judith's character like, nonzero engaging, which is just like i hadn't heard much about her prior i don't think. not as though she's at all Likeable in the sense of like if you were in the show you would not like this character who is both a bully and a narc but it's still like, good for her eventually realizing the error of her ways even if it'd've been good to realize it Before miss asp made it clear she was only ever intending to use judith, and like, maybe if your snitching on a girl had indirectly led to her death you'd stop narcing on everyone instead of just setting up the same situation again. but at least she comes around and threatens francis and even her awfulness can be funnier than the awfulness of other characters who are being awful

20) Headcanon(s) for what happens before the show?

oof that's tricky since so much stuff in the show is unveiling ppl's Backstory / what's happened prior.....idk i was gonna say i wonder how kitty got makeup kits into nation but maybe they're allowed / it's allowed for her b/c her parents are paying so much. not very exciting

24) The Other One or Oh Well?

did have to confirm which one The Other One is but i guess that one lmfao i just have a great time with sheila going off on those verses and it's fun how it's this playful song about them bonding over being rejected.....the "and i guess i don't know how to feel about it" delivery is v funny. much respect and appreciation for Oh Well though of course

28) Something you like/have noticed about the show that you haven’t seen anyone else mention yet?

i'm not sure there Was much that i noticed that i hadn't heard about prior......tbh i think there were just a few Plot Points i hadn't already heard discussed but they weren't exactly Fun ones so i was like hm yeah i can see why ppl wouldn't necessarily specifically address this for kicks

32) If only one could happen, would you prefer a cast recording or an Off-Broadway run?

i agree w/ p much everyone, gotta love the increased availability of a cast recording.....will be around for more than a few weeks, will cost less to obtain the experience, and around here Who Knows what cast recordings will spark. love how plausible it is that lihn Will get a cast recording, here's hoping

36) Favorite song(s) off the Hits of Nation/character playlists?

seeing as i forgot these playlists exist, f, and i have never heard music i just checked for which songs i know i know off the top of my head lol. s/o to each of the girls having iko iko by the dixie cups on their playlists, guess that's some required listening

[susannah: l.e.s. artistes by santigold], [rat: one way or another by blondie, i got a rocket in my pocket by jimmie lloyd (which i've only partially heard b/c it plays in the bg of a The Iron Giant scene lmao so this only counts like 1/3 of the way)] [kitty: diamonds are a girl's best friend by marilyn monroe, la vie en rose by edith piaf, anthems for a seventeen year old girl by broken social scene] [ya-ya: sugar sugar by the archies] [miss asp: i THINK i've heard "straighten up and fly right" and "if i knew you were comin i'd've baked a cake" but i don't especially wanna look them up and confirm lmao. know "i'm proud to be an american" and "god bless the usa" lol ew. "comfortably numb" by pink floyd and "whatever will be will be" by doris day et al and "my heart will go on" by celine dion] [first of all interesting that francis and buzz share a playlist but i guess really all of the roles by The Guy are pretty functionally similar lol. accentuate the positive by perry cuomo, blowin in the wind by bob dylan, i Think i've heard hang on to your ego by the beach boys but i think i forget how it goes]

40) What does LIHN mean to you?

hmm well classic iconis content around here with the shows celebrating misfit weirdos and him always trying to write a show about people who usually wouldn't get a show written about them and creating this material for an all-girl show with only one token The Guy and the Lead specifically being a black girl and there being a specifically trans role as well.....love how much people have been enjoying it even as it took me ages to get around to Consuming it myself, and it's been v cool for it to be so like, here's Totally New Material. even prior to me having actually seen it, it was also definitely nice to have This in the wake of august to interrupt the [lying facedown], and again it was fun to even secondhand have ppl having a great time w/ the show and getting to appreciate the Content and Analysis happening hell yea

44) Favorite non show/cabaret performance of a song?

oop i might've only seen the non-show video for "oh well" so guess it wins! fine by me

48) Favorite time Francis was wrong?

it's pretty classic / all-encompassing when he very strongly implies that susannah has no choice but to marry him / no Hope for her Future otherwise

#lihn #nothingunrealistic1

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Kurtbastian - A Dalton Boy Recollecting (NC17)

Summary:

Sebastian wakes up to the smell of sugar and an empty bed, which end up being the first steps down memory lane. (1518 words)

Notes: Warning for a bit of Blaine hate.

Read on AO3.

Sickly sweet and slightly burnt wakes Sebastian from a restful sleep. He inhales deep, tries to place the smell, but it’s not one he can name off the bat. It’s not cloves, which he’d assume, or weed, which he could also assume. He recognizes it, but he can’t identify it for the life of him. It smells like sugar.

Warm sugar.

Cotton candy?

Cotton candy would necessitate a cotton candy machine.

Why would there be a cotton candy machine at Kurt’s house?

Marshmallow?

He breathes in again.

Yes. That’s it.

Marshmallows have a signature smell, especially when they’re cooking.

Or burning.

He turns in bed to ask his Master why the air suddenly smells of marshmallow, but the man isn’t there - his sheets wrinkled but tucked in neatly, declaring he’s done with sleep for the night. Or more accurately the morning (as a glimpse at Kurt’s alarm clock tells him).

Three in the morning.

That leads Sebastian into the Valley of Questions (as Kurt puts it, since Sebastian asks so many), which grows quite nicely alongside Kurt’s Field of Fucks, which lays barren and dead since he’s not too inclined to answer them.

Though Sebastian has his own ways of wriggling information from his Master.

Why on Earth would Kurt be cooking marshmallows at this hour of the morning? And why wouldn’t he wake Sebastian to join him?

Kurt could be planning a scene. Maybe he’s preparing and he isn’t ready for Sebastian just yet. An image of himself covered in head to toe marshmallow fluff with only his eyes visible through the white goop fills Sebastian’s brain, and he snickers. But an after thought of flaming hot food stuffs stuck to his cock knocks the snickers right out of him.

Slowly he begins to rise. With every inch off the bed, he weighs the possibility that him stumbling half-asleep into the kitchen might piss the every living fuck out of Kurt. He doesn’t have express permission to join his Master. Maybe the man needs a moment alone. But Kurt loves sleep. He avoids waking up before his requisite eleven hours if he can. So if he’s awake right now, then something’s wrong.

Sebastian’s heart aches to make sure Kurt is all right.

He pads softly, doesn’t saunter out into the kitchen like he lives there … though he spends so much time at Kurt’s and eats so much of Kurt’s food, he has considered offering to pay rent. Kurt would never accept. He balks at any attempt by Sebastian to give him money, says he doesn’t need charity from his sub. Sebastian does his best to shower Kurt with the tokens and tributes he knows Kurt will accept, along with the odd takeout meal, but Kurt is funny with regard to what he’s willing to accept.

What he doesn’t think will put him in someone else’s debt.

“I hear you, preppy, I hear you.” Kurt sighs. Then he chuckles. It’s a bitter contrast to the scent of sweet wafting through the air. “I knew I couldn’t escape you for long.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Sebastian says respectfully. “If you’d rather I leave …”

“No, I wouldn’t rather you leave. Sit.” Kurt pushes the chair across from him out from under the table with his foot as an invitation. “Eat. There’s plenty.”

“Thank you, Master.” Sebastian settles his bare ass into the wooden chair and watches Kurt stick another marshmallow onto the tines of his fork. He flicks open his Zippo and starts roasting the marshmallow by hand. Sebastian smiles. When he’d visit his folks on the weekends, sometimes he’d roast marshmallows in the kitchen. The Smythes weren’t what one might call outdoor folk, and Sebastian hadn’t been a scout for a while, so he never got the opportunity. So he’d stand over the stove top and roast himself a few, trying his hardest not to drip on the burner and aggravate their cook. Even though it was a private ritual, it was something he’d hoped to share with someone someday, kind of like this - late night, after sex, talking about life, praying the morning would take its sweet time coming.

Even though standing over the stove top with fork in hand is how he’d expected to find Kurt, sitting at the kitchen table he uses as a submission device and roasting marshmallows over the same lighter he uses to light his joints suits him better.

“I haven’t roasted a marshmallow in about ten years,” Kurt admits, concentrating hard on the ridiculously difficult task of browning his confection evenly on all sides using the tiniest cooking flame imaginable.

“Why not?”

Kurt snorts. “Need to keep an eye on my girlish figure, of course.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Kurt glowers at the marshmallow though it’s meant for Sebastian. “What’s that supposed to mean, preppy?”

“It means you strike me as the kind of person who can clean out a fridge, gain muscle and lose weight.” Sebastian scoffs. “Classic fucking nightmare.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Good save.”

“Not a save, Master, but whatevs.”

Kurt glances at his sub sideways. This is new. Is it real? It has to be. Sebastian doesn’t lie to Kurt. But does Sebastian Smythe, hotter-than-fuck-super-athlete-extraordinaire, really have body issues surrounding his weight? Kurt knows his sub has self-esteem baggage hanging around in dark corners, but is this honestly one of them?

Kurt needs to find out. But he tucks that information away, saves it for later. Now’s not the time. “Blaine and I, we’d sneak out of bed-oops …” - Kurt’s marshmallow slips too close to the lighter and goes up in orange flame. He blows at it, trying to turn it out while he continues - “go to the kitchen and make cookies and shit.” He offers the charred and extinguished marshmallow to Sebastian, but doesn’t command that he eat it. He waits while Sebastian looks at it, shrugs to himself, then takes it.

“Cute, Master.”

“Yeah, well, you should have seen us. We were fucking adorable.”

“I believe it. So, if you don’t mind my asking …”

“… and I probably do …”

“… what inspired you to get up and roast some now?”

Kurt doesn’t answer right away, focusing on licking melted marshmallow off his fingertips, not doing the best job in the world since that’s what he has Sebastian for. “I … had a nightmare.”

“And you didn’t wake me, Master?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with my stupid crap.”

“It’s not stupid. Not if it’s you.” Sebastian pulls his marshmallow apart, eating it in pieces instead of devouring it whole. “What was it about?”

Sebastian expects to get reprimanded for asking so many questions, but Kurt doesn’t seem in the mood for scolding.

“I was in New York,” he explains. “I was still with Blaine. We were happy and in love. He wasn’t a big, controlling asshole. I wasn’t everyone’s favorite drugged-up cockpit. I was going to NYADA and working at Vogue. I had everything I ever wanted.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows shoot up. Nightmare? That sounds amazing! “How is that a nightmare, Master?”

“Because part of me knew it wasn’t real. That it wasn’t right for me - not the person I am now. Blaine showed me his true colors a long time ago. No dream will ever change him. And I wouldn’t take him back even if it did.” Kurt’s solemn expression perks up with the right corner of his mouth. “Besides, something was missing. Something important.”

Sebastian considers that revelation as he chews his marshmallow. As much as he would love to speculate over what that means, he also doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Kurt could be talking about his club, how successful it is, the work he does in the community.

He could be talking about Elliott and their tremendous friendship.

Yup, in the realm of reality, where Sebastian finds himself living less and less, Kurt has a lot more going for him than his relationship with Sebastian.

Sebastian should probably start remembering that.

“Do you dream about that a lot?”

“I did for a while. Mostly right after everything fell apart and I started wondering what went wrong, how could I have fixed it. When I came to terms with the fact that there was nothing I could have done, it stopped. But then, out of the frickin’ blue, it started up again.”

“When?”

Kurt glares at Sebastian, hands him another marshmallow. “Recently. Very recently.”

“And why do you think that is, Master?” Sebastian asks, trying not to sound too amused.

“I think that’s obvious.” Kurt snaps his lighter shut and sets it down. He climbs out of his chair and into Sebastian’s lap, straddling his legs, pressing the crotch of his cotton sleep pants against Sebastian’s naked cock. Kurt feeds Sebastian the remains of toasted marshmallow stuck to his fingers. Sebastian nips one of Kurt’s fingertips in the process. The sensation of Sebastian’s teeth sinking into Kurt’s skin shoots straight to Kurt’s groin. Kurt grins, mentally making a list of all the places he’s about to make Sebastian bite. “I’m going through an adolescent phase.”

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt

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violet-knox · 4 years

Text

Train Ride Home

Year 6 - Chapter 48

Summary: Desperate for a moment alone, you and Severus quickly snag a compartment on the train ride back to London, enjoying the last bit of time you have together before heading back to the muggle world.

Word count: 3012

A/N: Boy it’s been a while. I really missed this and I hope that after finals I can actually get back into daily updates. On another note, I’ve been updating past chapters and managed to get through years 4 and 5 somehow. So if rereading is something you’d be interested in, feel free to do so (my masterlist is in my blog description and so is a link to my AO3 account). Anyways, that’s enough from me, and I hope you enjoy this chapter cuz I enjoyed writing it (in class~oops).

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

(Y/F/S) = your favorite sweet

The rigid feeling surrounding the carriage had the two Ravenclaws sitting across from you shifting uncomfortably in their place as Severus shot them a few more sharp glances. Looking out the window, you desperately tried to spot the entrance to the train station with no success. This was going to be a long ride, one you knew Severus didn’t have the patience for.

All he wanted was to spend the last bit of time you had left together alone, uninterrupted, without having to pretend to tolerate the presence of other students. Granted, judging by the look on your face, he wasn’t doing a very good job, not that he cared much. Perhaps if he stared at them long enough, they’d have the decency to jump out the window and spare him from suppressing the urge to do something arguably regrettable. But alas, it was clear, Merlin had to test his diligence around you one last time. After all the events that occurred between you two this year, of course he had to find another barrier in his way.

You looked over to find Severus wearing an expression on his face you could only describe as a cross between agitated and murderous. It was a common look you’d only see when in the company of anyone aside from you. Smiling to yourself, you took his hand in yours and began making soothing circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. He always preferred solidarity, even before you started dating, it was the one quality of his that made it so hard to get an invitation to join him under the shell he’d crawled under all those years ago. Severus relaxed ever so slightly under your touch, his hand squeezed yours, but his eyes didn’t break its intense glare on the students intruding on his time with you.

Finally, the carriages stopped and you couldn’t have opened the door quicker as Severus removed the luggage from underneath the seats and handed it to you. Your unwanted company shuffled through the other side of the carriage, keeping their gaze off the boy who looked just about ready to pounce on them. Severus intertwined your fingers with his as he gripped the handle of his Hogwarts trunk (clearly meeting the end of its life span) and sped towards the train to find an empty compartment before he was forced to bare the company of any more meddlesome students.

Lucky for you both, a free compartment made itself apparent as you walked down the narrow hall of the train. Severus quickly slide the compartment door open and went straight to tucking his luggage way before helping you with your own. Unfortunately, as you’d forgotten to close the door after you entered, you now found yourself face to face with a Gryffindor and two young Hufflepuffs politely asking if the seats across from you were taken.

“Get out.” Severus’ voice rumbled through the confined space as he quickly went to shove them out, closing the door before roughly pulling the curtains shut, as if leaving some sort of warning to anyone else who dare get between him and his love.

“Severus,” you said as you giggled, taking a step towards him. He happily opened his arms to you, wrapping them around your waist as you placed yours over his chest. “That was rude.”

True, they were doing nothing more than trying to find a seat before the rest of the herd joined you on the Hogwarts Express, but you couldn’t lie, you also had no interest in sharing a compartment with anyone other than Severus.

This train was quite special to you. Not only because it had introduced you to the place you grew to call home, but it had also given you the means to meet the boy you grew to find comfort and affection in. It had become quite the symbol for your relationship with Severus; you’d come to Hogwarts this year with nothing more than lingering feelings towards one another and now leaving the same way but as a joint couple, bound together through love. So, was it really so crazy to want nothing but a moment alone together in a place so important to you?

“I don’t care,” he whispered, his grip on you tightening. You could feel his muscles contract as he pulled you in, his eyes lingering between yours and your lips.

You hummed, smiling as you slowly leaned in, connecting your lips with his, loving just how badly he wanted to get you alone. You couldn’t lie, the desperation he showed kind of turned you on, like he’d do almost anything to have you, to be with you. It was an infatuating feeling to see him show just how much you meant to him. Pressing yourself to the length of his frame, you slide your hands up, through his hair, tilting your head all the while to deepen the kiss.

His touch always so feverish, his thin lips moving against yours, the way your fingers so easily slipped through his hair like an eel freely gliding on the bottom of the deepest ocean, you could never get enough. Sliding a hand from the nape of his neck down his chest, you let your fingers teasingly play with the fabric of his school robe before pressing your palm to his lower stomach. A growl vibrated in his throat as he parted from you, only to tilt his head to the other side and reconnect your lips. It was mesmerizing how he’d almost literally take your breath away with the simple token of a kiss.

Deciding to continue your little charade, you let your hand follow the trail his belt made to his hip. In return, Severus gave a little squeeze to your waist in approval before both hands slithered behind you, separating as one rested on your lower back and the other right above your bra strap. You could feel your lunges begging for air as the pressure in your chest intensified, pressing so tightly against him. Your heart raced with every move he made, desperate for more.

Whatever snarky attitude Severus had to take on to get this compartment to yourselves, it was definitely worth it if not for this soul moment of bliss. No space was spared between your chests, and you questioned if he could feel the raging pumps of your heart eagerly emanating. Wondering if his heart was beating just as fast as yours, you slide your hand out of his hair, sliding it down, search for the familiar rhythm giving life to such a brilliant, tenacious, lovestruck boy. You never got the chance to find it however as you practically sprang from his arms at the sound of the door clicking.

Severus was quick to react when he felt you pull away, knowing exactly what caused your little jump scare, his left foot shot up as he leaned back, closing the door. Momentary taking his gaze off you, he locked the compartment entrance in the hopes you wouldn’t be disturbed again before shooting you a smirk and pulling you back in.

You just couldn’t help but giggle as you placed your hands back on his chest. Severus tilted his head, with the clear intention of resuming your kiss, but you just couldn’t stop the soft chuckles escape your lips.

“I love you,” you mumbled as you parted. It was a lost cause trying to resume what you had going before; the mood was ruined.

“I love you more,” he whispered as he let his forehead meet yours, closing his eyes to revel in the moment. He had half a mind to hex the door, causing the next person to even touch the air surrounding the compartment to grow abnormally long fingernails. Let’s see them try to interrupt him again when they can’t even reach the handle.

Biting your lower lip, you slowly stepped away, running your fingers gently down his arm until you captured his hand, leading him to the seat by the window.

Severus let you take a seat first as he took out a book from your luggage. It was the last book you’d brought with you to Hogwarts he hadn’t read yet and though he’d asked you countless times prior, you’d always refused to read it with him, saying you wanted to save it for the ride home. Well, the day finally came, and Severus could only hope the buildup all this anticipation caused would be met with a lyrically blissful book. Though even if it was the worse book ever written, he knew he’d still enjoy it, because he’d be reading it with someone so extraordinarily special to him. He took his place beside you, both instantly cuddled up to one another, feeling the vibrations of the railroad below as the train picked up speed.

The compartment steadied with silence as you both read. Every now and then you’d feel the rumbles of a purr coming from Severus each time you nuzzled into his chest, or the crook of his neck. It was quite endearing, seeing how soft he’d get around you and only you. You hadn’t talked much about summer. Neither of you really enjoyed it, finding a home in Hogwarts, Severus more so than you. But that was before you’d gotten together, before you became a couple. What would happen when you stepped out of this train, heading your separate ways? Sure, you could write to one another, perhaps arrange a meeting like last summer (maybe with a little more flare this time), but is that all? Was that enough? The thought of being apart for so long frightened you. You’d both gotten so used to each other’s company, seeing one another every day during breakfast, studying together in the afternoon, taking a walk in the evening. What would happen now with the extra distance placed between you both?

The sudden squeaks of wheels and the light mumbled of distant chatter outside your crypt of love brought your attention back to the door once more. Severus smirked as he saw your back straighten and your eyes widen in delight. Clearly, you were looking forward to a light treat before arriving in London. It was adorable really, how such small pleasures illuminated you with absolute euphoria.

He bookmarked the page and placed the book on his seat before rummaging through his luggage to find the coin bag stuffed in the bottom of his trunk. “It’s on me,” he said when he saw you reaching to retrieve your own coins.

You froze in your place and slowly lowered your arms as you watched Severus swiftly make his way to the door to unlock it. You felt yourself floating off the ground, admiring how quick he was to notice your needs, jumping at the opportunity to please you.

Just as you made your way over to him, the trolley pulled up to your compartment, Severus already giving the woman his order, handing him the few coins he had left. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your lips to his shoulder as you eyed all the sweets, dancing on the trolley.

Distracted by the vibrant colours and sparkling wrappers, you completely missed Severus stuffing his empty money bag into his pocket and twisting his body to face you. It was only when the trolley began moving and the door slid shut, the familiar sound of the lock clicking once more, that you snapped back to see (Y/F/S) in Severus’ hands as he wore a sweet smile on his face.

“Thank you,” you whispered as he handed it to you. His slender fingers hooked under your chin, bringing your attention back to him as he gently pressed his lips to yours, a quick kiss of appreciation exchanged between the two of you.

Severus picked up the book and opened it to find the page you’d both left on as you took a seat beside him. It wasn’t until then that you’d noticed he’d only bought you something and had neglected to get something for himself. Guilt seeped into your gut as a small frown appeared on your face. Had he really spent what was left of his earnings on something for you to eat? You had money, if he hadn’t stopped you, you could have paid for it yourself, allowing him to indulge himself in whatever he pleased.

Severus placed aside the bookmark but when his eyes turned back to the book, he didn’t find the intricately printed words on the pages of the softcover he was expecting to find, but rather, a broken piece of the treat he’d bought you held in your hands as an offering to him.

“I bought it for you,” he said. It took him a moment to form words. He’d frozen in place, mildly confused as to what you were doing.

“We can share,” you replied as you gestured for him to take his piece.

Smiling, you watched him take the piece from you and pop it into his mouth. Breaking off a piece for yourself, you both ate and chatted the rest of the ride back to London.

It had to be moments like this you’d miss the most. Sure, it was fun to study together, discovering new spells, watching his talent blossom. Stealing glances during class was also something you’d cherish, but this, these moments where you’d simply listen to each other ramble, examining the features of each other’s faces, memorizing the soft tones of one another’s voices, this had to be the best of it all. It was always something you’d rarely get to enjoy as is, but going home would put an even larger dent in your ability to capture such moments. Owling each other letters wouldn’t do and yes, perhaps you could both get your hands on a muggle phone, but that just wasn’t enough.

How were you to enjoy the musky smell of the lavender shampoo he’d use after a bath? How were you to see his lips twitch in happiness each time they parted from yours? How were you to go without feeling him, without seeing him for so long?

“I don’t want to leave the train,” Severus whispered as his fingers gently caressed the plush skin of your cheeks, his eyes roaming your face, desperately trying to memorize the deep colour of your lips, the arc of your brows, the glimmer that brought out the colour of your iris. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Neither do I.” Severus felt the tickle of your even breath on the base of his neck as he tightened his hold around your waist, bowing his head to bury his face in your hair.

It was time. The train had stopped several minutes ago. You’d both packed up your belongings, your luggage patiently waiting for you by the entrance. But the door was still bolted shut. Perhaps if you both stayed quiet and closed the curtains, no one would notice and the train would head back to Hogwarts with you in it. You couldn’t believe you had to part from him so soon and you swore the train had somehow gone a million times faster than the last few times you’d ridden it. It wasn’t fair. You weren’t done. You weren’t ready.

Severus pulled back, only enough to capture your lips for one last goodbye kiss, one last chance to relish one another’s taste. You could hear the compartments around you open as the students began to file out of the train and onto the platform. Family members reuniting with their children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews. But you kept your position firm, holding on to Severus for as long as you could.

“We should get going,” you whispered as you heard the happy chatter die down, the last of the student’s passing your compartment and joining the other’s outside the train. Severus sighed before taking a step back, holding you at arm’s length, hoping to capture every detail of this moment. Smiling, you took his hand and you both reached for your luggage.

As Severus slid open the door, you peered down the empty never-ending hall. Two months. Only two months and you’d be back, walking down this grey carpet, sharing a compartment with Severus again. You knew you’d both do everything in your power to see one another over the summer, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to rely on such vague assumptions.

You could feel the tension pumping through the veins of your boyfriend, and you wondered if he held stronger reservation to leaving than you did. Raising your hand, you gently pressed your lips to the back of his in comfort, lingering just a little longer than you had to as you peered into the deep dusk in his dark pupils. Severus gave you a reassuring smirk before stepping out the door, holding on to you tightly when he saw you were the last to leave. Walking hand in hand, you made your way to the door, time slowing with each step you took, only speeding back up when Severus let you go and you stepped down the stairs onto the warm concrete of the King’s Crossing platform.

The crowd was thick, and you were glad Severus was unable to spot his mother at first glance, giving you just a few more seconds together as you made your way closer to the exit. You were the first to spot her, remembering just how much she stood out in the sea of jubilant families; a lone slim figure of a woman, heavy eyes and an inapparent interest in being reunited with her son.

“I’ll see you soon,” you whispered as you both stopped a few meters away from her.

“I hope so,” he spoke with so much longing in his voice, your heart tugging at his words. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said before he turned around, walking away, carrying your heart along with him.

Next Chapter

@hoppingsnape @dusk-realm @a-slytherin-sin @trashandshook @sneezy-s @emsdroid @leah-halliwell92 @dellightfullydeceitful @xxaamzxx @sparklingkeylimepie @nameless-sovereign @living-in-margins @justanobodyinthisbigworld @soft-slytherin-sweetie @youtube4life10 @scarletmoon83

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mercifuldeaths · 5 years

Text

Vertigo: Chapter 11: Hallowed Ground

Vertigo: Chapter 11

Hallowed Ground

Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Intense descriptions of drug use, overdose, and implications of suicide.

Summary: Waves, rocks, fire, salt, stars.

Notes: I cannot believe I’ve taken so long with this. It’s been finished in my drafts for...months now. Interaction with writers is so important, guys! It truly keeps me going.

Anyway, this is dark. PLEASE don’t feel obligated to read if anything in the warnings is triggering to you or makes you uncomfortable! It’s a bit of a departure from my usual style, but I enjoyed making some parts of this chapter a bit more ambiguous and abstract.

I hope you enjoy xx

Word count: 6.1K

Gif credit: (Unfortunately, I can’t find the source of this beautiful gif. If anyone knows, please tell me and I’ll credit them straight away.)

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It was a grey morning. The sun not yet risen, but light enough that stars were hidden in the illumination. Overpowered by something greater. It was still. Everything unmoving. Stagnant.

And for once she was happy about that. Not the ebb and flow of water, the waves, but something that could maybe give them a little more time. It’s how Medina knew something was desperately wrong in the universe-that she was okay with this stillness. She lived for motion, the rocking sensation, whirlpools, rips, anything that moved her but that morning gratitude settled in her chest for the crushing calm. A lake. Not the ocean.

They couldn’t find him. Jim.

A missing person couldn’t be reported until it was twenty-four hours after the time they went missing, she thought. It had only been about seven. But someone could go lots of places in seven hours. Lots of things could happen in seven hours.

The cold started to seep into Medina’s thin jacket, her nose running, eyes red. She didn’t bother blaming her tears on the cold. Jim was gone. She could feel it in her bones. In her soul. She didn’t know why she was still rushing because she knew they were looking for a body. Seven hours was much too long post mortem to do anything about it.

She bet that he was cold, too.

They had decided to split up- to cover more ground, was what she told Y/N but it was really because Y/N still was hoping and Medina knew she couldn’t live with false belief. Maybe it was so she could cry a little, too. They checked the beaches first-it’s where she thought he would go. To the water. To her.

Beaches were strange, she mused. It was all really just one, right? Stretching along a coast...people just decided to name different parts of it. Off topic. It was weird. Her mind wanted to think about anything, anything, but Jim. Cold and blue and grey with his eyes open staring at nothing. His hair curly from the sea air, hands tensed, knuckles covered in dried blood, thin skin stretched over bone. Maybe the sea started lapping at him. It was going to be high tide soon and the winter waves were high. Off topic.

She walked along the shore, where earth met water, the temperature icy but reminding her of why she was there. For the first few hours, she ran. Ran through the sand and the dunes and over fences screaming. She screamed until she tasted blood. He was alive then. His pulse living inside her. The second heartbeat, because they always came in twos. The best things did.

Now, she was tired. And he was dead. So it didn’t matter anyway.

Medina walked, letting the water splash up soaking her jeans. Good. Along the way, she collected sea glass, throwing the ones that weren’t smooth enough back into the water. Someone else will find it when it’s ready. She walked in a straight line pretending a balance beam was under her. You always imagine the weirdest things, Medina. When his voice echoed too loud she turned backward and walked that way. What? No remark this time, Jim?

She looked down the coast both ways. Empty.

She was empty, too.

She smelled burning. Fire.

“Jim, what are you doing?” Medina whispered out her window down to Jim who was crouched next to a bonfire he had created in their backyard.

“Oh hey! Come down here,” he shouted, much too loud for the hour. Medina’s phone said it was close to three in the morning.

Choosing to placate him was easy. He was….she couldn’t tell. But he was talking to her. So he was probably high. She held onto whatever shred of hope was left that he wasn’t. She made it down into the yard and sat next to him without a word. They never had to speak, but she found herself unable to think of anything to say to him.

Jim flipped through the stack of papers he had next to him, licking his thumb, then flipping again. She almost laughed. He had them organized by age but he was mostly done by then, just finishing up when his sister noticed. She looked to him with wide eyes, a weary smile on her face and he felt his chest tighten. Pity. He was suddenly reminded why he was doing all of this.

He found that he liked the warmth that radiated onto his skin from the flame. Orange and hot. Not blue and cold. It was like the sun from that coffee shop. He’d miss that. Added to the list. But it would be okay. In the end, anyway. The smoke curled up into the sky but he tried not to look. He’d miss that, too. The stars. Added to the list.

Medina was looking up, though. Looking for him up there, he knew. Because that was the thing- he wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing. Each pill each line perfectly planned to destroy him in the best way. Sometimes Jim was reckless, but not with this. Methodological down to a science. After all, he knew his limits by then.

The way that it hurt them though….wasn’t accounted for. Y/N...Medina. That’s why he wished it was done already. So they wouldn’t have to hurt for him anymore. Y/N...I want to see her. Stop being a selfish asshole, she hates you. I don’t care. I want to see her smile a few more times.

“What are you doin’?” Medina asked, finally looking to her brother.

Jim sighed. “Just getting rid of some shit.” He lifted one of the stacks he had left. This one labeled ‘Kindergarden?’ because he couldn’t be quite sure.

Medina leaned in and tried to read the label but he pulled it away before she could. Hearing him speak, she was almost sure he wasn’t high. And he’s talking again… A flicker of optimism.

“What is that?” she asked, moving faster than him, and managing a grip on the stack. In her haste, a few of the smaller pieces of paper fell to the ground next to her. On instinct, she reached down to grab it and found that it wasn’t a paper at all but a photograph.

The two of them, sitting on the steps of their home back in Michigan. It was the first day of school, she remembered that day. She had cried because she wanted a blue backpack, like Jim. Jim had cried because he was scared. Over waffles, before the bus came, she promised she would watch out for him-make sure nothing bad happened.

Her stomach rolled, nausea creeping in.

“Oops,” Jim sang as he threw another pile into the flames.

“No, stop!” Without thinking she reached into the fire to pull out the photos and small tokens of their childhood together. The only markers of their history besides the memories they held too close to share. “Fucking,” she hissed as the papers fell to the cool grass under her feet, the small flames dying quickly, the pages still scarred and curled at the edges. “What are you doing? Jim, this stuff’s important.”

“Why?” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and used an ember from the burning pile to light it. “It’s not like I’m gonna need it.”

A pile further from the rest caught her eye. “Is that your birth certificate? And passport?” She rushed over to it, smoke clouding her face. He didn’t bother to try to beat her to it and took another lazy drag off the cigarette balanced between his fingers. “Jim,” she said a little more firm, trying to recapture his attention back from the curling pages in the fire. “What are you doing? Really?”

“I’m just not going to need it, Medina. I’m finally getting out of here.” He smiled. The first one she had seen that wasn’t full of malice in forever, it seemed.

She hesitated, wary of what he was implying. “Where are you going, then?”

“Right now? Probably over to Y/N’s. ‘Miss her.” He stood abruptly, forgetting his plans to keep burning now that Medina would inevitably put a stop to it. She stood back, hands still tracing the edge of his birth certificate.

“If you’re leaving...you’re going to need this,” she whispered and held up the slip of paper.

He flicked the cigarette into the flames that were starting to die down, running out of kindling. Another smile graced his lips but it was dampened by the shake of his head. No.

“I won’t need it.” He winked and stepped closer. She gasped when she felt him pull her into a hug, arms wrapped tight. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

That was what he always said to her. ‘You’re my favorite.’ She never bothered to ask his ‘favorite’ what? But she really didn’t have to ask. Because he was her favorite, too.

She held onto him, probably longer than he intended the hug to go on for, but he didn’t pull away. Unable to help herself she placed her ear to his chest. His heartbeat was there. The sound that she had grown accustomed to in those nine months sharing a womb with him provided little comfort. He slowly started detangling himself from her, after dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She felt the sinewy muscles pull away and she wanted nothing more than to grab them back around her. Just one more time.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and managed to gracefully clear the fence around their yard, headed to Y/N’s house. He managed a small wave back to his sister, over the shoulder but still moving forward.

She grew cold without him there, despite the warmth coming from the dying fire. He liked fire. Not water.

They had gone camping a few times throughout their childhood and if it was anything Medina remembered it was to not douse the flames with water before retiring for the night. It’s supposed to burn itself out. She resisted the urge to cool the embers with the seawater that was so close to their home. Unable to sleep until the embers were blackened and cold, she stayed awake, watching them burn from her bedroom window.

Y/N had the heat blaring in her car-too stuffy and warm, but the outside was too cold. The worst part was the getting in and out of the car. It wasn’t enough time to completely warm her to the bones so her hands remained chapped and stiff gripping the steering wheel, anything to stay grounded.

Her and Medina opted to separate. Sure, ‘cover more ground’ but also because Medina’s slow glances and supreme uninterest were not helping the situation. Y/N knew Medina need to be near the water so she was stuck driving looking for him.

The roads and houses didn’t change when everything else had. Nothing changed in Palos Verdes, she noticed. Each paved street turning onto more asphalt, leading to a tan house with a red tiled roof. Carbon copies. A wave of nausea settled in her belly as she continued looking into the grey where everything started melding together. The red roof, house, street, sand, ocean-all became one under the blanket of fog.

She tasted blood and realized that she was gnawing on her lip. Briefly, she was about to ask Jim to bum a cigarette but her blood ran impossibly colder when she remembered the empty passenger seat. The vacancy was palpable.

When she reached the end of the street, a dead end leading to a trail to the ocean, she pulled over, hearing the tires spin in the sand. Before she could even hear the car door slam behind her she felt the biting cold on her hands and face. It wasn’t enough of a distraction from the nausea and the ache in her eyes, almost too exhausted to keep going. But she knew she would no matter how bad she really did just want to stop. Let it happen. If he wanted it this bad...shouldn’t they respect it? Stop letting him get in your head.

The walk down to the beach was a longer one than she was ready for, ice in her veins but fire licking her skin. This cove was opposite the side Medina was looking on. The coves were nice because once standing inside it, enclosed on the three sides by high bluffs, there was a clear view of the definite shore. No stretching landscapes, sand extending in both directions, ocean in the other, just the semicircle of beach. Almost completely enclosed, the only way out through the ocean. The bile rose in her throat before she could stop it and she retched into the hilly dune off to the side of the worn sand trail. “Fuck,” she muttered to nobody while licking the back of her hand to rid the acidic taste.

He wasn’t there. She could see that in the first few steps onto the soft ground. The only reason her feet kept pulling her forward was the pile of black ash that stained the creamy expanse. A beach fire, no doubt. As she grew closer she saw the emptied beer bottles haphazardly strewn about, cigarette butts lazily thrown into the edge of the circle of ash, but no Jim. It was a foolish thought that maybe there was some massive misunderstanding and he had somehow wound up down here with some of the boys. But the peeling logs that once held warmth were cold and damp from the morning dew, she reached a hand down to make sure it wasn’t warm, lit recently...a sign that maybe he was there earlier. Not alone and...just not alone.

Exhausted, she kneeled next to the blackened sand, jeans now damp, too. They had fires there. There was always a fire when they were together.

It had been a long day that extended into an even longer night. Jim still radiated heat, probably from the slight sunburn he was sporting after spending all day on the beach as she felt herself press into him to avoid the summer chill that came when the sun finally went down. A group of the usuals surrounded a small fire someone had managed to build in the center of the cove, warm oranges spreading over the dunes on onto the bluffs.

The party had lasted from sunset onward but once it hit closer to sunrise than sunset their friends started clearing out either falling over themselves or linked arms with whoever they were planning on spending the remainder of the night with. And that’s how Jim found himself half laying against one of the makeshift benches, really just washed up driftwood, Y/N comfortably tucked under his arm.

“I don’t know why you like it so much.”

“Hm?” She looked up at him, a little groggy from the booze that was starting to lose its effect. Jim liked it when she was like this, a little sleepy and vulnerable, but completely herself.

“The sunrises. You’re exhausted, let’s just go-” he started.

“No, no it’s almost up. Just relax,” she sighed and further leaned into him, preventing him from getting up even if he wanted to. She felt Jim laugh a little and drop a kiss to her hair, wild from a day of surfing and playing in the sand.

“It’s all new, you know?” she whispered, afraid to disturb the universe.

Jim nodded, but was still unsure of what she meant. ‘It’s all new’. He wasn’t a fan of new, preferring the comfort of worn in tee shirts, old cartoons, the same jacket for years now. They were familiar, something grounding. New wasn’t...good. New was moving to Palos Verdes. His mother’s new personality, his father’s new wife, his sisters abandonment. Because she really did. And he hates to blame her, but she’s the reason he became...whatever it is.

His mother was only the spark that lit the flame. Medina and her newfound obsessions and distance were the true catalyst. And his father. And maybe his mother...maybe there wasn’t even a spark. Maybe it just happened. It wasn’t a spark, it was sinking. His pockets weighed down with pills, sinking until he hit the seafloor, salt filling his lungs.

“You like new beginnings,” he stated matter of factly, a sort of revelation.

“And you don’t.” She knew him better than she let on. An innate feeling, not something she could explain or reason but she felt Jim in her soul.

“I like some new beginnings,” he said a little defensive even though he knew he had no reason to be. She could read him like a book. “I like this.” He nodded between them.

“I like this, too,” she laughed, liquor still on her breath. After a moment, Jim saw the clarity in her eyes, all traces of tipsy gone. “I really like this, Jimmy.”

His fingers cradled the back of her head, thumb rubbing small circles, and tilted her face up towards him. He didn’t like the change from the night before and sighed, the irony not lost on him. Last night the fire threw orange shadows across her cheekbones and it made her glow. A few times he caught himself glancing over at her looking like some ethereal being. She was unreal.

But at her favorite time of day, her face tilted up to the sky, up to him, a grey washed over her. She always tried to explain that it was soothing to her, the part of the day when the world was still, quiet, grey. Nothing truly existed in those precious minutes. Jim found it almost morbid. They greying landscape with fog rolling in to blanket reality. She let out a hum and Jim watched her eyes flicker shut. He had to look away.

Nothing existed at this part of the day, though. That was the one part he could get behind. Not existing.

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Jim asked, voice soft.

“What do you mean?” She shifted, eyes cracking open to meet a view of him looking out onto the waves.

“To us.” His face shifted into something of being haunted by something that hasn’t happened yet. Y/N felt her stomach clench.

“...I don’t know, Jim. Can we just...be?” she said knowing she was dancing around the topic.

She was surprised when Jim gently shook his head. “I need to know there’s something for us. I need something to hold onto.” The last part was supposed to stay in his head but the lingering effects of the alcohol made his lips loose.

“We’re…” she trailed off, thinking. It wasn’t a secret, Jim’s fear of commitment, so this was new. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“But really,” he said with a little more emphasis as he straightened his back against the driftwood. Y/N rearranged herself accordingly and sat between his legs, his chest to her back, both looking out from the cove. The grey morning was turning into a yellowed hue as the sun peeked through the clouds that decorated the open sky.

“I think we’re going in the right direction, babe.” She tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder, trying to look at him even though the angle made it impossible. He did that on purpose.

“I just want like--I just want it all. With you,” he stuttered.

She took a deep breath and Jim could feel his heart palpitate. “I do, too.”

“Like-everything. A stupid house and a dog and like I don’t know. I want to like...do taxes with you?”

A laugh passed her lips. “Taxes?”

“Yeah, taxes,” he sighed, giggling and felt his face burn. “Just like, even the stupid shit. I want that. With you.” He was raw, an exposed nerve on display for her to do with that she chose.

“I want a stupid house, too. And a stupid dog, and kids-one day. And sure, taxes,” she mused maybe a little too quiet for him to hear properly.

His eyes were still cast out onto the horizon, scanning for something it looked like.

“I mean, let’s not rush things.” She gripped his hand that was resting around her waist, completely wrapped in his embrace. “We have time.”

Jim nodded but she didn’t fail to notice the small crease in his brow, his tell for when he was overthinking. “Let’s...start with coffee.” Y/N detangled herself from the cage of Jim’s arms, missing the warmth but consoling herself with the thought of Jim inevitably smiling into the warm drink.

Jim looked up to her. The outline of her body blocking the sun that kept rising, hand extended towards him to help him up. He couldn’t help but place a small kiss to her palm before letting her help him rise. He noted the sand stuck to the jeans she was wearing and couldn’t resist playfully swatting her ass a few times as they made their way back to his car.

“Just trying to help! Can’t have you covered in sand all day,” he laughed as he went in for another tap-just missing and grazing her thigh.

Her little squeals made him smile.

It was the wrong beach, not the one he was going for, anyway. But was he going for a beach at all? Did it matter? Yeah.

He remembered there were stairs but not much else. And then it was dark and cold and the water was there. He was there? Fuck.

There were the pills shoved in his back pocket...that happened at some point. Right?

He reached into the jeans pocket and was met with emptiness. Well really fuck. It made sense, he supposed. The way his heart was going so fast he swore it was going to rip his ribcage open, his breathing was slow though and that was confusing. But the drooping eyelids and desire to just fucking lay down was all too familiar. He must have at some point because he felt some sort of grass or plant stuck in his hair.

Jim reached to tangle some of it out, his long fingers combing through knots and wincing a little at the pain that he couldn’t really feel. Probably thanks to the oxy. He found his hand sticky when he returned it back to searching through his pockets for a cigarette. It was dark and he couldn’t find his phone-did he even have it to begin with? The streetlights were just close enough to see his fingers painted red. Oh, the stairs.

He supposed it really didn’t matter anyway. Nothing did anymore. There was no recollection of what he took. The handful of pills were all different colors, sizes. They were beautiful. There were a few bumps of coke taken off his own hand. His nose still tingled and he could taste the bitter on his gums.

But there were no stairs or pills or powders or Medina or Y/N or his mom, dad, friends there anymore.

The beach? Oh yeah.

It was the wrong one. He knew that much.

He sat alone in the center of the sand, head lolling to the side.

Go closer.

“No, I don’t wanna move.”

Too bad.

“Fuck.”

He wasn’t crazy. He knew that. He just...something pulled him to the waves.

I get it, Medina.

It was a Thursday when Y/N had managed to drag Jim out of bed early enough to get out before anyone else.

“You have no classes, you have no excuse!” she sing-songed as they wandered down the path behind Jim’s house to the bay, grey waves already crashing onto the shore. He smiled at the winter waves, bigger than ever and pulling whitecaps every so often, and was secretly glad that she managed to force him out. It was that but also probably the breakfast burrito she brought. Yes, she was willing to bribe him.

He had been acting...off. Nothing to worry about, but just the stress of his thesis and some stuff with his mom had him looking just a little more tired. Typical of a college student, though. Some more coffee, a Red Bull here and there, and Y/N didn’t need to know about the lines of coke he would sneak in the bathroom between classes. Just sometimes, though.

He’d convinced her to wax his board for him while he leaned back against the rocks to have his breakfast. Watching her hands glide over the board in familiar strokes and circles was meditative for him. It was comfortable, the coconut smell of the wax mixed with the lavender of her conditioner, the waves crashing, the song she was humming without realizing it. It felt more like home than the house just up the path did.

“Jack Johnson?” he mumbled around a bite of burrito, managing to catch a piece of avocado before it fell onto his wetsuit.

She looked up from her work on the board and took a second to register that she was even humming. “Oh, yeah,” she gave a gentle laugh. “I always see the poster on your door.” She shrugged and got back to work, moving slow enough for Jim to enjoy his breakfast.

He smiled, forgetting all about that poster. “Put it up ages ago-when we first moved. Banana pancakes, huh?”

“It’s a good song!” She set the wax aside and looked over the two boards ready to be put to use.

“I’m particularly fond of banana pancakes.” He shrugged.

“Is that you saying you don’t appreciate today’s breakfast?” he voice rose playfully and she nodded at his mostly gone burrito. “Because I don’t have to do that anymore…”

“No, oh my god no!” he rushed to get the words out. “You know you’re the only reason I’m like...alive. Not eating hot pockets for every meal.”

She laughed. “I’m kidding, babe.”

“Okay,” he sighed a bit more relieved. “I don’t know how nobody has wifed you up yet. I get wake up calls, food cooked, you’re a goddamn dream.”

“Well I guess someone has to make a move, eventually.”

“You’re young...we’re young,” he murmured, methodologically folding the tin foil his breakfast was wrapped if before setting it in his bag to throw out later. The mood had shifted and Jim cursed himself. He saw the way her lips tightened and her movements more controlled as she picked herself up. Tucking her board under her arm she let out a wavering laugh, “Ready?”.

“Always,” Jim whispered breathlessly.

Walking down to the waves he was sure to drop a few kisses on her temple while thinking of how he would never be lucky enough to be the one to ask her to be his wife.

After a particularly long morning, the sun and salt became overwhelming as Jim and Y/N made their way back onto dry land. Jim’s friends had a tendency to ruin things and Jim wasn’t having it. He found himself tucked into a diner booth before they could show up to the beach, Y/N across from him, biceps wonderfully sore from paddling and still feeling the sun’s warmth in him.

It was probably a little early for burgers and fries but neither of them cared. Jim glanced across the table to where Y/N was quickly sending a text before catching him looking. “What?” Her eyes looked up to his, face still tilted to her phone.

“Oh, nothing,” he laughed. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t feel right saying how he was just mesmerized by the water that dripped off her hair to water stain the shoulders of her shirt darker. Small sand granules still stuck to her hair and skin even though they tried to get all of it off. The way her skin practically glowed under the light that spilled in from the window she was sitting next to, her eyes that looked just a little smaller without mascara on...he loved them. He loved her.

He loved her.

He did.

And sometimes it would hit him at the most random times like when she would trip over a curb, or say something that she probably shouldn’t have, or like when she was stealing fries off his plate-which she always did. And she was doing just that while scrolling through a text message as Jim looked on and just took in...everything. Because it felt mostly right. Only mostly because Palos Verdes sat looming outside. Anywhere else in the world and it would be okay. Probably.

He knew he was running from problems. That things might not be any different if he got away.

On stained napkins, Jim planned his escape route. Rough sketches of his future. Maybe theirs.

“I’m gonna get us out of here.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jimmy.” She still smiled, knowing that he would get out one day.

If it was night then why was it so fucking bright out? White. Blankness, blindness, the world still spun but he didn’t know how because he couldn’t see it, so how could he feel it? It was night- he was positive about that because the sea was black. Ink black.

Even when he was older-no longer a child, just moved to the bay, looking out into the nighttime waves sent ice down his spine. Watching the surfers bob over the swells, black turning to grey where the wave broke, his chest tightened. It was swimming in ink and dark. He bet that when you came out you were covered, dripping in the stuff, staining and tainting every inch of flesh, maybe even the insides, too. Swallow some of it or breathe it in and let it paint the inside of you black. He always wondered what monsters lived there, under the blanket of dark.

It was stupid, he knew. Sea monsters didn’t exist but it was primal. Something in his blood screaming to stay away, that something down there was going to kill him, rob him of the breaths he struggled to take in anyway. Chest always tight. Lungs covered in soot and ink. Blood crashing waves, uncontrollable, and deadly-potentially tragic, but poetic. Sparking inspiration for writers, musicians, the everyday man. They all go to the sea to cleanse the soul but they didn’t see it at night. Not the way Jim did from his window every. Single. Night. Just outside, just out of reach. Just far enough away to let him sleep, but close enough to be a threat.

But Medina dragged him down to go night surfing.

He watched it swallow him whole.

He was one of the monsters that lurked down there.

Everything returned to the sea, he knew that. His thesis. Pollution. What? He managed one steadying deep breath, tricking himself into thinking he could feel the tissue expand in his chest cavity. His hands shook. It wasn’t bright anymore.

It was dark. And night. And the waves crashed in front of him.

He wanted to run.

Jim made himself sit. Cross legged, back hunched over- Sit up straight, mom will complain- he straightened. Everything in him screamed to run, go anywhere but here. One more breath. A pause, a beat. His eyes narrowed at the black sea in front of him, staring at the white foam that broke off.

The wind picked up and he felt his hair tangle and curl in the salty air. He didn’t bother moving it. The cold ripped through his body, though. Chilled to the bone.

The lights had gone out. The streetlights? The moon? Did it matter? It was darker than before. Jim faced the ocean, mind finally blank. Numb. A breath. A beat. A clear mind. Until it wasn’t.

Chills turned into sweats, his temperature rising impossibly fast, he felt it seep from his forehead but he still shivered. He blinked the salt from his eyes-from sweat? Or...how did I move…? The ocean lay in front of Jim. Black, swirling, and breaking, growling whispers and words to him. Calling to him? Probably.

When did...my heart--? If he knew how to crack a chest-Dad knows that, he’s good at it…- he’d rip it out. Offer it on a silver platter to whoever wanted it. Nobody did, though. Anything to get it to stop. His hands shook and the waves still crashed. They didn’t stop, they wouldn’t stop.

He moved closer. Why?

I’m scared.

I know.

You have to.

...okay.

Trembling legs carried him closer to the beast. It crawled closer on its belly, an inch from his sneakers, and controlled him. The closer it came the tighter his chest, the sharper his inhale, filling him with emptiness. Exhales were good, he pretended that it was him blowing it away until the pattern shifted again, waves overlapping and nothing discernable. Even Medina didn’t like it when it was like this- tides changing. No pattern. But it was still hers, and hers alone. She was born in a cradle of brine while he was drowned by it.

He wished he knew how to swim.

But he belonged in the sky, he tried to look up but his eyes were trapped, held by the dark in front of him. There was no escape- no way out from under it. Its reach clawed at the land until it took chunks of it, winning. It tore through his skin until he was nothing but exposed and raw. Its silent demons moving amongst and within him, gifting him with every burden bestowed upon him.

Mom, dad, Medina, Y/N...me. Jim.

It’s your fault, you know.

I know.

Everything.

I know.

He knew it already even though his mind insisted on whispering every chance it got. Blinking got hard, eyes heavy. Everything heavy all of a sudden.

The weight of solitude settled on his shoulders and found a home in his belly. Not just on the wind whipped beach but everywhere. Laying in bed with Y/N he always found himself alone. Not alone-lonely.

But there is no time to be lonely when there’s a grave to dig.

The thought of her cracked him. He looked away from the monsters, hiding his eyes in his palms he felt his tears stain the cuts. How they got there, he wasn’t sure.

Tendons, ligaments, bone- all weakened, he felt something push him to his knees. It had to have been her? No. But maybe? He couldn’t be sure. That or...whatever was out there. It’s you, you dumb fuck.

Sometimes he forgot that he was one of them. Slicked black and melding into the monster itself, bobbing on the surface but knowing just how easily it could smother him, should it choose.

It crawled away in retreat when Jim’s hands fell to his mouth to muffle the scream that threatened to rip from his chest. He couldn’t let anyone hear, not when he was so close. You’re almost there. Don’t stop. Do. Not.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he whimpered, voice cracking and high. He didn’t sound like himself. Or maybe he sounded more like himself then ever. Raw. There wasn’t any more time to put on a front.

A stillness came over him when the water rushed to surround and saturate his knees, half buried in the sand-kneeling in worship or terror. He let it run over his fingers, feeling the push and pull, his inhales and exhales no longer synched. They were slow. Slower than they should be. And they hurt.

The water was almost clear when it was close enough. He saw the blood wash away off his trembling hand when the wave was sucked back in, taking a part of him with it.

His head bowed, not in reverence, he was sure. But because there was no point in holding it upright. There wasn’t a reason to look up, all the stars had gone. Snuffed out by the water that wavered in his view. He wasn’t going to make it there, anyway. He felt an ache in his chest when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to meet her at cassiopeia, as promised.

It wasn’t just a dull ache, though. He felt the way oxygen flowed in and out of him too slow, the way his heart was throbbing too fast…

He fell over, face half buried in the sand, unable to move, paralyzed as the tide rushed in, claws open and ready to claim him. He didn’t remember being able to take one last gasping breath, salt filled his lungs and light filled his mind.

For the first time, he was ready to go somewhere on his own.

He smiled. Relieved, after so much waiting.

Tag List:

@langdonsinferno @ccodyfern @starwlkers @babypinkstyles94 @1-800-bitchcraft @hailbaphomette @langdonsdemon @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @katiekitty261 @aveiangdon @sojournx @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @americanhorrorstudies @sojournmichael @nana15774 @duncvn @gold-dragon-slayer @cocosfern @rosegoldrichie @and-shes-not-even-pretty @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lvngdvns let me know if you want to be added! I’m making a completely new one (the complete one I have is so outdated) tell me if you’d like to be included! I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, like I said, my list is a disaster right now hah.

Thank you all for your patience and support! It’s so appreciated you have no idea.

#jim mason fanfic #jim mason x reader #jim mason #jim mason hc #topv fanfic #tribes of palos verdes #topv vertigo #michael langdon x reader #the tribes of palos verdes #ttopv

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dragoninthecloud · 5 years

Text

Cold Front - Akuma

Next bit of Cold Front, @ao3bronte! Happens after Checking up

Some Ladynoir... something? I’m really not good at working out what I’ve written I’m afraid o.O;

Start - Previous - Next

-~-

Adrien spent his morning watching anime and working his way through several boxes of tissues. Nino and Alya would be coming over to have lunch with him, and Marinette would be coming over after she had finished helping her parents in the bakery to study with them all, so he could stay in his pyjamas and be a blanket burrito on the couch until at least half eleven. Which he did.

At twelve he got a message from Nino to say he was on his way over when the Akuma alert went off on his phone. He chuckled when he immediately got another message from Nino, saying that oops, Alya got an alert, off to dodge death by custard.

He was confused until he looked at the alert. Someone was filling the Seine with bananas and custard.

…

Well. It wasn’t the strangest Akuma by any stretch.

He looked up from his phone to find Plagg floating next to his face.

“Plagg Cl-“

A small black hand (paw? He could never decide) landed on his lips. “No. This is not a good idea kid.”

“But she neeeeeeds me Plagg,” he slurred, still bunged up slightly.

His Kwami sighed, and rubbed at his eyes with a hand. “Fine. But I want it on record that I warned you. Any and all consequences are entirely your fault.”

He grinned at his Kwami and quickly gave him a scratch on the head, earning a surprised purr.

“Thank you Plagg. Claws out!”

He heard Plagg sigh as he was pulled in to the ring and then warm magic rushed over him. He didn’t feel any better as Chat. His nose was still blocked, his head still stuffy, and his balance not great. But he could do this, he was positive. The power of his love would conquer all.

Three rooftops later he was bent over a railing and had just finished coughing up a lung, thinking that maybe Plagg had been right (not that he’d ever tell him) when a light thump sounded behind him. He turned slowly and met the rather unimpressed glare of his fellow hero.

“Hey there, Bugab-“

“You’re sick,” she bluntly cut across him, folding her arms under her chest.

“Wait wha-“

“Why are you out here in the cold when you’re sick?”

He blinked at her a few times. “There’s an Akuma.”

She scowled at him, and her foot started tapping in time with her fingers on her arm.

“You are meant to be at home, wrapped up warm and taking things easy. I’m pretty sure there would have been someone in your civilian life who would have told you to take things easy today.”

Chat closed his eyes and sighed as all the little details that had been fuzzy from his cold and sleepiness, all the coincidences that he’d been trying to ignore since she found him by the river, clicked in to place. So she knew. But if she wasn’t going to outright say it…

“Nope,” he tried to chirp, smiling brightly at her. “I’ve not talked to anyone from my civilian life yet today, and I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m feeling perfectly fine, so let’s go find the Akuma M’lady.”

Her scowl got worse and he saw her fingers curl in to fists as she dropped them.

“Chat Noir! You. Are. Sick. Your nose is bright red and running, your eyes are unfocused, and you sound awful. And you are going home, right now.”

He stood up straighter and tried to hide the fact he was leaning against the railing still as he crossed his own arms and tipped his chin up so he could look down at her. “Make me.”

The look on his face made him regret. He yelped and tried to scramble backwards but forgot the railing was there and as he stumbled against it she was suddenly there, hands pinned on either side of his hips and very much in his personal space. His breath caught as she stretched up, nose to nose with him with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t push me. Because I could. I could wrap you up with my yo-yo, sling you over my shoulder and carry you back to your room, where I’d throw you on your bed and tie you too it with some of those silk ties you own so you can’t be so stupid and come out here again. Is that really what you want, kitty?”

She slowly leaned back out of his space and he wheezed, staring at a point beyond everything. He had not expected that. He knew what saying “make me” normally ended in, but he hadn’t really expected Ladybug to go there.

And now she had he really wasn’t sure why he hadn’t done it sooner.

She snorted, and he focused back on her, the faintest blush spreading across her cheeks.

“So. Last chance. Are you going home by yourself while I go take care of the Akuma, or do I need to give you a hand?”

“Depends what you’re going to do with the hand,” he muttered. And after a blink, he was rewarded with a crimson blush racing over her entire face. Her mouth worked without sound for a few seconds before she bit her lip and stared at the floor.

“Shut up. Now,” she finally looked up at him and reached forward to cup his cheek gently. “Be a good kitty and go home.”

He met her eyes and found them warm, kind, and sparkling against the red of her mask and cheeks, and nodded.

“Good. I’ll come see you later. I have… somewhere I should be going right now, but I promise I’ll come see you as soon as I can after I’ve sorted everything out.”

He nodded again, and tilted his face against her hand, and she obliged him by moving her fingers to scratch at the hairs on the nape of his neck and rub her thumb along his cheek bone. Then she was leaning forward and doing the forehead bump he was really starting to love.

“I’ll see you later my sweet kitty. Be good and take your medicine, and you’ll get a reward later.”

She kissed his cheek, so close to his own lips, and then she was gone, jumping from the roof and swinging away down the street to do her duty to the city. Adrien steadied himself against the railing and grabbed his baton, turning to face towards his house where he could still see his open bedroom window past the two houses between them. He judged the angle, distance, force needed, and propelled himself across the gap, and straight in to a chimney face first.

One more house. Two more jumps. He could do this.

Adrien dozed on his couch. He had barely managed to get home, stumbling through his window and landing in a coughing pile on the floor. Plagg dropped the transformation and then poked and prodded and whined at him until he dragged himself to the couch, and then the Kwami had had to tuck him in since he was too exhausted to do it himself. They had watched the news report together until they’d seen the ladybugs swirl around the city (and his nose), at which point Plagg muted it so Adrien could finally relax. It hadn’t been a hard or dangerous fight, just long, and had ended up needing Queen Bee. Small children covered in banana gunk and custard were surprisingly tricky to pin down.

So when he heard quiet whispers in his room, he was aware of it. He kept his eyes closed as footsteps scuffed their way over to him, and then as the couch dipped by his hip.

“Mmmm. Ladybug?”

A quiet snort made him force heavy eyes open to meet laughing blue ones. But there was no red mask surrounding them, just a hint of a blush. He stared, trying to process what was wrong with the picture, and when it finally clicked in to place he gulped.

“Oh, hey. What’re you doing here?” he slurred, rubbing at his eyes with a fist.

Marinette’s eyebrow quirked up in synch with one side of her lips and the danger sense in his brain turned on to a cautious amber.

“I’m here to check on you, after our study day got cancelled yesterday? Alya and Nino are on their way but will be while. They ended up chasing the Akuma further than they thought.”

“Oh. Right. I don’t remember… wait, I sort of do? I hit you yesterday, right? Are you ok?”

She looked surprised, then amused, twisting slightly so the left side of her face was turned further away from him and a long silky ribbon draped over her shoulder from where it was tied up in her hair.

“I’m fine, no real damage, and it wasn’t your fault. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Let me see?”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and shook her head slightly. So he turned on the charm. Kitten eyes, pouty lip, head tilted just so, and one hand placed gently on her arm as the other slowly lifted up towards her face. She put up a token resistance before letting him move her head by his fingertips on her chin, and he scanned her face for any marks. He couldn’t see any no wait. She was wearing slightly thicker make up on her left cheek, near her nose. He lifted his hand towards the area, and found his fingers caught in hers.

He blinked, confused, and she full on smirked as she started rubbing her thumb along his knuckles and his stomach squirmed. This was familiar. Why was this familiar? Marinette didn’t smirk at him like that or hold his hand like… like Ladybug had earlier that morning when he tried to touch the bruise by her nose.

… huh.

-~-

Stop being sick Adrien. She can’t kiss you if you’re sick or asleep -__- (Who’s in control of this? I thought it was meant to be me? So why won’t they do what I tell them to?!?)

-~-

Start - Previous - Next - AO3

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #ladynoir #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #sick/comfort #cold front

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what-even-is-thiss · 6 years

Note

Hey I need some advice. So I'm Pansexual and I'm mostly leaning towards girls but the thing is I don't know if like almost any other girl in my school or age likes girls even one bit. We played this game called Oreo and it's were you have to play rock,paper,scicors and whoever wins gets to tell you who you have to ask out. I was just playing but I said to a girl "Ok go ask out *insert girls name here*" and she was like "Eww no that's gay" And I was just like "Ok? so?" pt 1

pt 2 And in this day and age kids tend to go for what gender there suppose to go for. My mom says "Everyone is hiding something deep down, they all just want to fit in so they don't share what they like deep down" I haven't come out to anyone that I'm Pansexual and it seems unlikely that anyone at my school would ever like the same gender a bot liking a boy and a girl liking a girl

Okay I don’t know the details of your situation like how old you are or what part of the universe you live in, but I’ll try to help based off of what you’ve told me and I’m going to assume from the complex social structures that seem to be forming here that you’re in middle school or early high school. College age people do not play games like Oreo in my experience.

I think more of your friends will turn out to be queer in the coming years. I remember I had a friend in middle school and high school that for years insisted she was straight and nobody had any reason to doubt her but then our junior year she came out as pansexual. Also, in middle school and early high school people tend to say “no homo” and “that’s gay” more than other age groups from what I observe.

Even if you live in a liberal area there’s still probably kind of a feeling of taboo around queer issues and topics when you’re around that age. It’s better than when I was in middle school and early high school from what I can tell, but that’s just where I live. When I was in 8th grade there was basically only one kid that was open as gay and by the time I reached senior year almost my entire friend group consisted of gays, bisexuals, pan peeps, a token straight couple, and me, the friendly neighborhood asexual/closeted trans person.

Another thing to keep in mind is that during adolescence people are just starting to get into the whole attraction thing and for a lot of lgbtq+ people the first step in their sexual awakening (or lack thereof) is denial. It’s a lot easier to be straight and cis in this world and I think at first a lot of us wish we were that.

A lot of people you know might be having their own internal struggle. It’s very likely that one or two of them are looking for something in you, especially if they’re a girl and/or closeted trans person that’s attracted to you. There might be someone out there that’s hoping you’re attracted to girls in some way.

And going off the assumption that you’re in middle school or high school, this is not the most important thing in the world. I know it might seem like a girl you have a crush on or figuring out when to come out of the closet is the end of the world and these are your best years and you’re wasting them but that’s just not the case. Even the straight cisgender people are confused right now, and you’ve got the added pressure on top of that of being pansexual in an environment where you’re not sure if it’s okay to come out. Of course you’re confused. I went the first twelve years of my life thinking I was a straight girl. oops. That didn’t happen. I am neither straight nor a girl. There’s probably a lot of people around you that just haven’t figured it out yet. Some people don’t figure out they’re gay until they’re middle aged.

I think if it’s safe to come out, and if it’s really something you want, you should. If it’s not safe and/or you just feel you’re not ready then don’t come out. No pressure. At some point if it’s not deadly to come out where you live, somebody probably will come out. Every grade has that one flagship kid. The I’m here, I’m queer, and I don’t care what you say kid. In my grade that was the one gay kid that was out in 8th grade. He kind of opened the door for all of us.

You’re never, ever, the only queer person. Especially in a place as big as a school. I think the best thing to do is wait. Even if you come out some people are going to hold back for a while. Some people might think you’re weird. Don’t put up with those people. Don’t tolerate people seeing gay, bi, trans, pan, whatever as gross. Even if you choose to stay in the closet, it’s probably good to try to bring up queer topics. Play the old ally game.

I hope you figure out what works best for your situation. Unfortunately I can’t tell you what the best solution is. Only give you some things to think about. And probably advise you to stop playing games like Oreo and there is no gender you’re “supposed” to go for. Go. Live your life. Eat your vegetables. Be unapologetic about your queerness. Fight the patriarchy. I’m proud of you.

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breeeliss · 7 years

Note

If you are still talking fic suggestions how is this: Chloentte with Chloe in deep denial about being gay, but everyone except Marinette can see it?

i got carried away again oops

words: 1668

“Jesus, you think it’s possible for Chloe to flirt with Adrien any harder?”

Nino winced as he watched Chloe twirl a lock of hair between her fingers and bat her lashes as she leaned against Adrien’s study table in the library. Adrien was doing his best to ignore her as much as he could, but Chloe’s hand was half covering his maths textbook and she wasn’t really leaving any room for Adrien to block her out. “It’s almost sad to watch,” Nino agreed. “Like she has absolutely no shame about it. Poor Adrien.”

“Should we rescue him?” Alya asked.

“And try to take on that little monster? No thank you. I’m staying right here. Adrien’s handled her before, he’s a big boy.” Nino poked Marinette in the side with his elbow. “What’s the miracle you’re not running over to break that up? Last time Chloe was flirting with Adrien you practically leaped across the desks to interrupt them.”

Marinette shrugged and kept reading her novel for literature class. “Not worth it.”

“Seriously?” Alya snorted. “This coming from the girl who stayed on the phone with me for like an hour complaining about Chloe trying to steal the love of your life away.”

“Yeah,” Marinette laughed. “That’s definitely not a concern anymore.”

“Why?”

Marinette blinked and looked between her two friends. “Wait…you guys don’t see it?”

Alya blinked. “See what?”

“Are you serious?” Marinette exclaimed. “It’s so obvious!”

“What’s obvious?” Nino asked. “The fact that she’s an overdramatic gremlin?”

Marinette snorted in disbelief and shut her book. “Guys. Chloe is gay as shit.”

Nino shook his head. “Chloe!? Chloe who flirts with Adrien at every available opportunity and dreams about purchasing a couch made out of attractive boys. That Chloe is gay?”

“Yah,” Marinette said, as if it were the most obvious deduction. “Super gay.”

“No way,” Alya smirked. “You’re messing with us.”

“Am not!” Marinette insisted. “I’ve been collecting evidence for the past two weeks and the results have been pretty much undeniable. She is a flaming lesbian.”

“Alright, Marinette “Token Bisexual” Dupain-Cheng. Prove it to me,” Alya demanded.

“I’m so glad you asked,” Marinette smirked. She pulled out her cellphone and waved her two friends over so that they were sitting on either side of her. “We will begin with Exhibit A, exactly 15 days ago in the café across the street from the bakery.”

Alya squinted at the screen. “Holy shit is that a video?”

“I was scrubbing the windows,” Marinette shrugged. “And I happened to be looking across the street and then I saw this.”

“I don’t get it,” Nino commented. “It just looks like Chloe and another girl having brunch. What’s the big deal?”

Marinette hung her head and sighed. “You two are hopeless. Okay. Two things you must know about Chloe. One, she’s a little princess who preaches about good posture and sitting with your back straight and your shoulders back and your boobs out. She brags about how she won’t ever be accused of looking sloppy, so her posture is on point at literally every available opportunity. Look at her right now with Adrien, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Alya did just that and tilted her head in thought. “Huh…that’s really prissy.”

“But she’s on a date with this girl and she’s thrown that Golden Rule out the window. She’s slouched in her chair and leaning over the table just so that she can lean in close. Second thing you should know about Chloe is that she doesn’t let anyone touch her unless she’s close with them. Sabrina and Adrien are probably the only ones who fall into that category. Everyone else? Casual touching is totally off the table. But look at this! This girl is touching her hands, knocking her foot underneath the table, and tapping her on the nose. Totally out of the ordinary.”

“So? That could just be a close friend of hers that we don’t know,” Alya reasoned.

“Plus how the hell do you know this much about Chloe?” Nino asked.

“Nah she doesn’t know this girl I stalked her Facebook friends,” Marinette said offhandedly. “And it’s super obvious, Nino. Pay attention to her for like ten seconds and you can’t miss it.”

Alya snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay, so this is exhibit A because….”

Marinette waggled her eyebrows. “It was totally a date. That’s the only logical explanation. She likes this girl, it was a date, and all of this lip biting, laughing, and keeping her gaze down on her hands is her being flirty. That whole eyelash batting, hair twirling shtick is way too forced, you can tell. Whatever she’s doing with Adrien, she’s not flirting.”

“Dude,” Alya breathed out. “How much time did you put into – ”

“Exhibit B!” Marinette opened up the notes app on her cellphone. “Now, Chloe may be the spawn of Satan, but she’s rich and gorgeous so she obviously gets attention from other boys. So I decided to do a little research and see how many times boys came up to talk and flirt with her and how she reacted each and every time.”

Nino frowned. “Gorgeous?”

Alya raised a brow. “You’ve been spying on her for two weeks straight?”

“Shush! Both of you!. Anyway, over the past two weeks, including today, a totally of eighteen boys have approached her to say good morning, ask her how she is, and compliment her. And because she literally has no friends other than Sabrina and Adrien and everyone knows how mean she is, they must be trying to hit on her. She has shut every single one of them down.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” Nino said. “She thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

“Nah, Chloe looks for any opportunity to have the spotlight on her. She feeds off compliments, if there’s an opportunity for her to get some, she’ll milk it. But with these boys, she either totally ignores them, scoffs at them and walks away, or laughs and keeps on moving. Heck, look at Kim! He confessed to her and she didn’t even take advantage of the chance to have some boy fawn over her. She just totally rejected him.”

“I guess….that is weird,” Alya hummed. “Boy, you sure know a lot about her.”

“And finally, the most damning piece of evidence, Exhibit C. So remember three days ago when Chloe stole my sketchbook? Well, I stole her phone as revenge, so – ”

“Marinette,” Alya groaned. “We talked about the stealing phones thing.”

“Not important!” Marinette interrupted. She pulled up her photos. “Found out her passcode because I have to sit next to her during history and she’s on that thing literally all period. Now originally I was just going to take some stupid pictures on her phone and post them on Facebook or something. But then I found this!” She showed the two of them a screenshot that looked to have been taken on Chloe’s phone with one app in particular circled in red.

“Wait what is that?”

“One of the most popular lesbian dating apps in the App Store,” Marinette grinned victoriously.

“Let me guess,” Nino said. “You also use the app.”

“Not only do I use the app, my dear Nino,” Marinette started. “But I use it frequently. I had to swipe for like two hours to find it, but I present to you Chloe’s profile.” Marinette swiped two pictures over and showed off a screenshot off her own phone of Chloe’s profile on the dating app. “Bam! Lesbian. Case closed.”

“So why is she flirting so hard with Adrien?” Alya asked.

Nino looked completely dumbfounded. “Are we ignoring the fact that she swiped on a lesbian dating app for two hours just to find Chloe’s profile?”

“It’s obvious she’s not out yet,” Marinette reasoned. “The café she was at during that date was really low key and inexpensive for her, so she was probably trying to keep it hush. I think she’s overcompensating and trying to appear like she’s straight so as to keep suspicion off of her until she’s ready to tell people. Adrien’s the perfect person to flirt with because he’s her friend and she knows he won’t ever take her seriously. Ergo, Chloe is not a threat to me. Thank you for time. Any questions?”

Alya nodded. “Yeah. One. Why?”

“Why is she gay?”

“No, why did you spend so much time figuring this out?”

Marinette shrugged. “I love a good mystery.”

Nino muttered under his breath. “Yeah that must be it.”

Alya bit down on her lip to keep the chuckle from escaping. “So what’s next for you, huh?”

“Obviously to like her profile on the app,” Marinette reasoned. “She knows I’m bi, so I’m curious to see what she’ll do when she sees that I’ve liked it. I’m not going to out her or blackmail her or anything, but I want to see what she says if she decides to talk to me.”

“Dude, you are being so extra about this,” Nino breathed out with a knowing smile. “I’ve only ever seen you obsess over Adrien like this.”

“I’m not obsessed,” Marinette scowled. “I’m invested in learning as much as I can about my enemy. That’s all.”

Alya smirked and pulled her homework back towards her. She gave Nino a look from across the table and silently promised that the two of them were definitely going to talk about this when Marinette wasn’t around. In the meantime, Alya tried to appear the picture of innocence as she picked up her pen to do her literature homework. “Alright. Chloe’s gay. Interesting information. Thanks for all of the evidence. You must have worked hard for it.”

“I’ll keep you updated on the whole dating app thing,” Marinette told Alya, temporarily forgetting her homework and instead reading over Chloe’s dating profile again.

Alya hid her face in her book and laughed silently while Nino hid his grin behind his hand. “Oh I’m sure you will, babe,” Alya answered, her voice laced with humor. “I’m sure you will.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml #chloenette #chlonette #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain-cheng #chlonette fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #my writing #request #thejokesterearth3alive #tumblr fic

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marshmallow-fireside-keith · 7 years

Text

Kissing Booth AU

Someone made a post about wanting more Kissing Booth AUs, so I figured why not? I’m severely heat intolerant and it’s already 13°C/ 60°F here. People can pry winter and Christmas from my cold, dead hands, as far as I’m concerned.

The next morning Nico would join the Apollo kids in their daily jog, and they would, eventually, be able to convince him that the camp needed this party and it may help him make some more friends if he went through with it. Nico would not admit it outloud but, he really did want others to stop fearing him, and to see him as a normal teenager, just like them. As uncomfortable as this made him, it actually was a chance to interact with people outside of the Apollo cabin. And the smile Will sent his way helped. A lot.

The day of the event had everyone running about. Some of the Hermes kids and a Hecate kid were placing up mistletoe, for what Nico could be sure was something more devious than kissing. Whatever sort of magic waited for the two unlucky enough to walk under it, Nico was not willing to test it out. The Aphrodite kids were setting Ugly Sweater Selfie booths, which, was exactly what it sounded like. The Athena cabin was intermingled with everyone, jotting down notes in their notebooks, as they made last minute coordinations for the event. The Hepaestus kids milled about with various ornaments and trinkets. Demter kids were tending to the Christmas trees. Nico, who decided the Hades cabin itself would not individually contribute, was hanging up special lights and decorations with the Apollo cabin.

Much to his chargrin, he was the only needing to bring the ladder to put things up. Reaching so far above his head also made the sleeves of his sweater slide down and bunch around his forearm. He was so painfully short. The sweater was a cheerful yellow one that he had needed to borrow from Will, as the Hades cabin (he really liked to call it that, because it made him feel like he had a whole group of brothers and sisters at camp, and less like he was the only child of the highly stigmatized god) had not been made holiday sweaters yet. He had begged to borrow one that was more his size, he knew he already would look ridiculous wearing yellow, but Will gave everyone else a stink eye and so he had no choice but to wear the one made for Will. Nico grumbled about stupid, tall blondes and damn Northern Europeans and their freakish height.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur.

Kissing the girls wasn’t as bad Nico thought it would be. Having no attraction to them whatsoever helped to take the pressure off.

Just when the line had dwindled down to nothing, and his booth had been vacated for the other festivities, Nico noticed Will jogging up to him with a token held up in his raised fist. He had a large grin on his face.

“Will, you dumbass, did you get lost? Wrong line, stupid.” Nico was glad for the artifical lighting that cast shadows which made his expression had to decern. He’d been kissing girls all night, no problem. Some would giggle at him, no, at the situation he was in; the Hades kid, moodiest camper around, stuck behind a booth kissing girls, it was funny. Some girls may have actually found him attractive, judging by their nervousness. All of the girls in camp had already been through and were out visiting other cabin’s booths. Clearly Will was just taking advtange of the situation. Nico felt both butterflies in his stomach and bitterness at the prospect of getting kiss Will; it was a funny joke, one that he didn’t find funny.

“Take the token, loser. There’s no rule saying which line I have to go to.” Nico rolled his eyes and took the token from Will’s outstreched hand. He placed it on his table and carefully surveyed his surroundings. The immediate vacinity, tha nfully, was empty. Will stepped closer and Nico’s fingers began to tremble.

“Aww, c'mon Neeks, it’s just my lips, gods. If I say no homo will you get over it?”

Nico snorted.

“Solace, you’re dumb.”

Will placed a hand over his chest and dramatically tossed his head. “Oh Nico, you hurt me when you question my intelligence. My self worth is crumbling right now. I just came here to have a good time, and, honestly, I’m feeling so attacked right now.”

“OH MY GODS SOLACE! Just get your dumb face over here and get this over with. I’m tired and I want to go to be-”

Well, the good news was he listened. The bad news was he listened. Nico’s shirt had been fisted in Will’s hand, and he used it to yank Nico forward. He stumbled but Will used his free hand to steady him by placing it at the small of his back. Nico scrunched the fabric on Will’s shoulders to keep his balance. Nico could feel his heart beat wildly from the sudden movement, which made it all the more difficult to slow his breathing as Will paused very close to his face.

The lighting couldn’t shield his face from this close up. Nico didn’t mean to but his eyelashes had automatically lowered over half his vision. At least he could blame his flushed face on the adrenaline from almost falling. And damnit his head had turned on its own and his mouth had opened, and now his lips were shaping themselves to accept Will’s. But Will, damnit, was taking his time. His eyes drawing to every part of Nico’s face. When they landed on his lips, the courner of his own drew up. Nico’s breath was visible in the cold, which meant Will could see it was coming out in short and quick puffs. Here Nico was, pretty much melting around him, and Will retained his calm, lazy expression.

Wills hand worked its way under Nico’s shirt, and he gasped at how warm and strong it felt against his back.

“Oops.” He said with a smirk, not bothering to pretend it was a slip of his hand.

Nico’s breath shuddered and he kept leaning more and more forward, until their chest were against each other. His licked his lips and closed his eyes, his brows furrowing, knotting on his forehead, to vulernable to continue watching Will make a mess of him.

Then he felt it.

Did Will have lightning powers too? Was that only a Zeus kid thing? Because he felt tingling all through his body as the pair of warm lips settled in between his. He let out another sharp gasp. The lips kept mostly where they were, save for gently, almost imperceptively, kneading around his. Fucking damnit, Nico moaned. Will pulled back and chuckled breathlessly, before reclaiming Nico’s lips with fervor.

A floodgate had opened inside Nico and then their kisses became heavy and needy. This time Will moaned.

Before he knew how it happened, or even when, a tongue that was not his own was in his mouth. “Mmmm, fuck, Will…” He groaned when they parted for air.

The sound of a throat clearing made the two jump away from each other like magnets that were repelling.

“Uh, ok. First, wow. Second, wow. Third? Uh. Probably also wow. Fourth, I’m fairly certain that is not the type of kissing that was kosher.” Lou Ellen was looking anywhere but them. “So, uh. Uh. Uh… I came over to help you take down your table, I noticed everyone else has gone down to the campfire. They’re making cocoa and roasting marshmallows.”

“Thanks, Lou. Meetcha down there.” Will chuckled heartily. Bless.

“Uh…,” Lou’s vocabulary was catchy. “Will, that. That wasn’t, was it? I mean, you know. I. Well…”

“That wasn’t a joke, Neeks. I would never play a trick on you like that.” Will looked sad.

“Oh, oh. Ok. That’s good. Yeah. Nice. Good.” Nico bobbed his head in repetitive nods.

“That was… amazing, Neeks. I-i think you enjoyed it too? So. Can I ask you something?” Proud, confident Will was nervous? Nico affirmed.

“Would you like to be my boyfriend?”

“Idiot.” Nico punched his shoulder and then gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“But I’m your idiot.”

“Damn straight!”

———— Sorry for not editing. I’m swamped with college work and life, and I wanted to mark this off my to-do list.

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #fic #pjo #hoo #toa

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