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nemesyaaa · 2 days ago

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ain't nobody business // classmate!rafe cameron x mean!popular! reader

summary ; your classmate was too obssessed with you...but you were also too cool to care about him....only at first....

warnings ; 18+ smut plot. verbal violence. oral(f&m receiving). public masturbation. sub!rafe (simp obssessed and loser). nosebleeding so kind of blood. spitting. pervy behavior/needy depraved attitude. light praising. weird obssession. minors dni. be aware of the warnings before reading please.

author's note : none.

pervy classemate!rafe who's always been your biggest simp. not only had he always been a simp when it came to you, but he was totally sick and completely depraved. he was the very definition of the word pervert in its most terrible sense. he never missed a single class where you were present because he was completely obsessed with the idea of being close to you, of sharing the same space as you. he loved to hum the air you breathed because your scent was the one that intoxicated him. he was constantly at the back of the class and you were only a few feet away. he was a pathetic gooner who knew he had no chance with popular chicks like you. your standards were — too fucking high. you were the kook princess, too classy, too hot, too perfect, the mean girl out of his league.

then, he was never presentable.

you didn't necessarily notice it because you liked to ignore the existence of your fan. but he was constantly looking at you, his blue eyes glued to every one of your moves. he was like a stalker, watching you from afar in the hallways as you walked through the crowd with your group of friends. you were the prettiest of them all, your hair was always clean and neat, your face soft and made up, your lips covered in gloss and your mouth chewing a bubblegum. you always wore skimpy outfits because it was always horribly hot even inside the school.

he was desperately waiting for you to burst into his line of vision, his hand already stuck in his pants. his locker wasn't far from yours. there were photos of you and accessories belonging to you inside. everything you thought you throw away, he would get it back. he had a huge collection about it.

he was too freaking weird and lame — kind of the pervy freak your girlfriends make fun of it. the kind of losers that upset you and made you roll your eyes when he was staring or talking to you. the kind of idiots that was always in your fucking way instead of getting lost somewhere you didn't care.

but despite your mean and cold attitude toward him, rafe was always so eager to see you.

out of the pathetic man he was, rafe cameron was big. even when his dick was limp in his boxer, a fat bulge was outlining the fabric of his underwear. when you were in the same room as him, he always felt the need to palm himself, literally stroking his aching cock through his pants as you took a seat. it was crazy because your back was only shown to him but his dick was already growing in his grip, the veins of his length bulging thick against his touch.

he was getting harder every time he heard your chuckles. and god,when you wrapped that pen between your glossy lips, he just wanted to force his fat dick against the gap of your mouth, watching you struggle to take him with those pretty eyes of yours rolling in the back until he’s crying and his tip leaking on your favorite lipstick. the way you swirl your tongue around the hood, leaving a trickle of drool webbing from your lips to the pen while you pretended to think, sweet moans escaping your lips as you fixed your mini skirt was too much for him.

you were such a bitch.

you probably didn't know it, and it was one of his many dirty secrets, but he had a sex doll in his room that looked exactly like you and that he fucked every time he came home. he was a premature ejaculator but above all compulsive. you could be sure that this doll was fucked ten times in a row until he was out of breath, sweaty and stinking, until his hair and sheets were drenched in sweat and juices with his muscles drained and body shaking under painfully spasms. when he had to jerk off, he didn't need to go to pornsites, he just needed to open your insta page. and it was even better when you posted stories because you were always half naked in them. he masturbated until his screen was covered in hot and thick spurts, his liquid hiding your face.

he was such a dreamer and you were such a fantasy.

one time, you were in physics class in this lab-like class and you were across from him. he spent the whole time looking at your cleavage. his eyes were deep down on your boobs. but he was also suffered from a painful boner that you were aware about, but was ironically under your control.

“ want a picture of them, cameron ? ” you said with exasperation. “ because you're never gonna touch them. never in your life so stop watching. ”

he knew it. losers like him didn't stand a chance with girls like you and that was what made him even hornier.

sick.

the slightest contact with you was enough to ignite him. and telling him that he had no chance of touching you or going out with you made his cock bigger.

" god, you're pathetic. ” you muttered before sitting next to him. “did you pee your pants ? you've got a stain. ” you whispered in his ear. “ i know what you are, cameron.”

but you were in a good mood today, so you wrote on a paper.

— meet me in the girls' bathroom upstairs. (I know how much you love this place. I'm even sure you have lots of photos of me in the cabins.)

you kissed him on the cheek. as you were looking down on him, he just gasped while swallowing hard as you were laughing out loud with your girlfriends.

you were waiting for him in the bathroom after class. it didn't take long for him to arrive. you had locked both of you in a cabin. he barely had time to open his mouth when you were already pulling down his pants to give him a blowjob.

his boxer was wet and covered with dried cum. it was so gross and god so disgusting. you couldn't believe yourself that you were about to do this.

“are yo..."

“Be quiet, Cameron. or i might kill you. ”

“ Please, you turn me on. ” he pleaded with a hard breath.

his dick was fat and hard, literally twitching under your touch as you tried to not think too much. he was already whimpering like a crybaby when you hadn't even touched him yet.

he was in heaven. you were like a goddess for him.

“ You really don't deserve me. and not even what i'm going to do to you. So you better not screw that moment because it's gonna be the first and last time a girl gonna ever touch you in your shitty life. ”

as soon as you touched it, his stomach clenched. you were so kind to do that for him. you only thought of yourself. your fingers moved speed around his shaft while his balls slapped against his muscular thighs in motion. he was hard since this morning, so it was hurting him so bad, to the point he was terribly miserable and unsteady, just waiting for your touch since he watched you this morning in the hallways.

he was shaky and breathy, drooling and moaning like a slut. and it was also ironic too because you were supposed to be the whore in general. but rafe cameron was one of the biggest bitch you ever seen.

he was a kook but he was so shitty.

“ i said be quiet. ” you ordered with a firm voice, tired of his whines. “ since you struggle to listen to me, i'm gonna put this in your mouth. better hold it tight with your teeth because if i hear another sound from you, i gonna take those high heels that you love to see me with and step on your dick with it. understand ? yea, i can give you real reasons to be noisy. "

you took off your underwear to stuff it in his mouth. you had hooked it tightly enough behind his head to keep him from dropping it.

when you wrapped your mouth around his cock, you felt him shudder as you began to suck him gently. you moved your mouth as far as possible until you felt his girth at the back of your throat. you had pushed your mouth to take all his inches, making in it fit between your lips. you were now full stuffed with his cock that was throatfucking you senseless.

you were licking and sucking, giving him the blowjob of his life. he started to foaming at the mouth over your panties, his drool dripping from his chin to the raging dick that filled you.

you were literally taking the saliva he was raining over you, giving no shit at this point. when he began to move his hips, guiding the pace while fucking your throat, and you let him do as he was driving himself between your lips. a hand was tangled in your hair, getting them messy. your tongue was so soft, the sweetest he ever felt.

his lower tummy was twitching, abs flexing deep to the feeling you gave him. a sloppy head that made him cum so fast, coating your lips with a splash of sperm, as he held the back of your neck, forcing you to gag over the fat length. you were still hot, but messy. your vision was blurred and your face was covered with his drop of white loads, and streams of saliva. mascara was dripping from your eyes, your lipstick was smudging on your cheeks and his cock, your mouth was damping with drool and small bubbles connected to his sticky soaked tip.

you sucked him again and he came five minutes later inside your throat. after that, he had stuck two fingers down your mouth. it was as if the roles had reversed for a moment because you were now his whore.

he had started to thrust in and out, free-using your cavity while you took his fingers deep in your mouth. they were big and wet, making you gurgle terribly. his digits felt even more thicker inside you. he was brushing them against your tongue, forcing you to take them and lick them until they were nice and clean.

when he was satisfied, you had collected your panties, getting ready to leave. “please, die now. it's so embarrassing for me. ” you looked down and your eyes widened. “i don't mean that to see you being even bigger, cameron. you're such a trash. ”

“ please, can i touch you ? ” he was whimpering to your ears.

“ think you deserve it ? ” you answered. “ because no, you can't. ”

he was under you, his grip so weak around your naked thigh, while he was pleading under his breath.

he was staring at you with desperate eyes that you agreed. “ but you're not gonna touch me. you're gonna watch only. you understand ? ”

he nodded, before getting on his knees. you took a seat in the cabin, and spread your legs, skirt on your knuckles. his hand was already on his cock, the tip leaking on the floor, as you opened your thighs wider to watch him losing his mind fully on the sight of your gleaming pussy.

you hate yourself for being so soaked that wetness was running down your skin. rafe was now jerking himself off, his heavy and shaky breathing escaping his lips. you had brought fingers against your pussy after having moistened them then you had started to play with your lower lips with your hand before starting to caress yourself. your legs were feverish because you had already shoved three fingers inside you.

rafe was obsessed. you managed to drive him crazy, to dehumanize him. he had lost control when you added another finger, making it seem like you could fit the whole hand. you were so naughty, but your moans were so sweet. then the way you squirmed as you fingered yourself made him sick and perverted. “ easy pretty, you can't cum before me. ”

but he couldn't take it anymore, he had soaked his hands from touching himself so much while he watched you fucked yourself with your fingers. “ c-can…i cum..please…” he was breathless, mouth running like a pup, eyes filled with tears as his hands were trembling over his throbbing dick. “ n-need…it…! ”

“ it's all you got, baby ? i'm disappointed. looks like someone doesn't really want to cum…” you teased, still playing with your insides.

he knew he was stupid but you made him even dumber. when it came to you, he had nothing in his head, no self-esteem, no dignity. your fingers worked hard in your insides. the wet sounds of your digits going back and forth in your plushy canal as he was stroking himself harder. his fingers were in rhythm with yours, matching the way they were moving in your pussy.

you were like a movie star. a fucking porn star. the one he's dreamed about in the dark of his room.

your cunt was clenching over your fingers, sliding in and out of the wetness that came from your walls. but you continued to push them deeper and deeper to bring you close. you feel your hips lifted up, your legs trembling and you find yourself on your tiptoes as you reach your digits further in your swollen cunt. rafe couldn't help himself, and moved from your place to lick at your pussy when your fingers were still inside you. he was eating you out at , tongue sticking at your drooling slit that he was lapping while golden stars were taking you away from reality. he was so needy, the way his voice was breaking into your pretty cunt. he spreaded your folds way with his tongue, lapping through the needy hole before starting to make sloppy licks. you could feel his heavy nose rubbing against your clit, stroking it gently as he was lapping and stretching your canal.

you had to admit, he was good and if you didn't have so much ego you would let him know. but instead, you let him continue, the weight of his tongue shoving inside you, forcing you to squirm as he tickled your sensitive bud with his face. he was thrusting in and out, letting you leak your juices on his chin.

he was so deep in the thing, twirling his tongue to feel all your insides, driving his mouth so deep that he could not miss the spot, hanging his jaw open to let your wetness drip down his chin.

he was about to pass out, living the dream of his life with you. the way your pulsing clit was rushing into his fat nose making him nuzzle stronger , slow back and forth to messy rubs. all your pussy was now so tough on him, stroking him harder, forcing him to gasp and wimps. you didn't make it stop because you were too selfish to care about what he felt.

his mouth was working on your slit, as your clit was still evilly running the sensitive spot of his nose, getting it all wet and red until you heard a small crack from the pressure. his nose was now bleeding but that didn't stop him from pleasuring you. he was still eating at your cunt, metallic taste added to the sweet of your hole. after a wild minute, his entire face was coated with blood and seeds as he cried harder, his hands tugging the skin of your hips.

his nose was bleeding against your bud, as a line of the red liquid was trailing over the opening of your cunt making a way to his driving tongue. he was buried inside your whole sucking you to depth with blood foaming under his teeth — so close to bleed into your folds.

when you exploded, his tongue still fucking you, he had been so quick to swallow it all.

“ it's not gonna happen twice…” you muttered, still a little dizzy. “And if you tell anyone, I’ll find you and kill you. And please, take a fucking shower, Cameron. ”

“ It's Rafe. ”

“ I know your name. I just don't care about it. ” you replied with a sigh. “ Now, i'm leaving. Stop, gooning yourself. It's so gross. ”

You began to walk away but you wanted to add something more.

“ Did you understand ? Nod your head…”

You smiled when he obeyed.

“Good boy, aren’t you Rafe ? ” you replied while gently slapping his heated cheek, before squeezing both of them between your fingers. “ You definitely are.” you said, watching his face blushing under your touch.

“ Y-y-es…”

“ So you will do anything for me…? ” You asked with a smile on your lips.

He nodded again.

Anything you wanted. Absolutely anything.

“ Fine…i'm gonna give you what you want. ”

“ What do you mean ? ”

“ That i'm gonna use you until i'm tired of you. It's my turn to have fun. But it will stay a secret between us of course. This is my number, and i better find you all submissive when i call you. ”

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russo-woso · 3 days ago

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Comment || Arsenal x reader

Request | Masterlist

Warning mention of bullying, mental health problems, mention of suicide

Summary You accidentally reveal why you don’t interact with your team

A/N this is a sadddd and angsty one so buckle in

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Y/N, you’re coming to the restaurant with us, right?” Katie asked, seeing you try to scurry out of the room without anyone noticing.

Unfortunately for you, Katie saw you and was curious whether she’d see you at the restaurant that night.

To celebrate the end of the year and Christmas, the team had organised a meal out at a local restaurant, nothing much but enough to satisfy the whole team.

You hesitated a bit, you also unaware of your own answer.

You see, you hadn’t always had the best experiences with a team.

Your previous teammates had made a few comments here and there about you.

She doesn’t deserve to get minutes

Why did the club even sign her

Shittiest player I’ve ever seen

Drop her back down to the Sunday league

At first, they were just small remarks that happened every so often, but then it turned to 24/7.

In the changing rooms, over text, on the pitch. Everywhere, anytime.

They were bullying you.

And even when you brought it upon the manager, he just shrugged, ‘that’s banter for you’ he had told you whilst laughing.

Maybe you were just being sensitive. Maybe you were taking it the wrong way. Maybe this was how a team was supposed to play.

From that moment onwards, you thought it was normal.

You didn’t complain about it anymore, just bottling up your emotions so they didn’t have to see it.

It wasn’t until a very poorly played game that you realised just how damaged they’d made you.

You had played the final four minutes of the game.

When you ran onto the pitch, your team was already losing 4-0.

And although you’d impacted the game massively and had prevented two goals in them four minutes, you were entirely blamed for the loss.

You had dreaded walking into the changing rooms after, all your teammates angry at their performances but somehow blaming it on you made it a lot better.

One of your teammates had squared up to your shaking body, their finger pointing at you.

Your breath became uneven as you closed your eyes in dread.

“You were shit today! You were the reason we lost! You were a let down today. You made us lose! Do us all a favour, Y/L/N and fuck off. We don’t need you on our team! You just fuck up our play and make us fucking lose! Nobody likes you, Y/N. You’re a shit player!” She screamed, the rest of the girls agreeing. She finished shouting at you, but was not finished without pushing you to the floor.

You put on a strong face, standing up and grabbing your stuff before walking out.

You walked for miles in the rain, no car, your phone dead, just you and your thoughts.

You don’t remember much from that night, you’d passed out on some bridge for most of it.

But you remembered one thing.

You remember laying on the bridge, your body fighting for consciousness and thinking would it be so bad if you were to never wake up?

Would anyone actually miss you?

You had your mum left but she mainly focused on your older brother more - he’s a lawyer and had kids - no more explanation needed.

You were so close to completely giving up, so close to letting ending everything.

You used all your strength, pulling yourself up and taking yourself over to the edge of the bridge.

The river underneath was violent, the water crashing against its beds with purpose.

You started counting down in your head, dunking it with your heartbeat.

3… 2…

“Dear! What are you doing?” A voice exclaimed from behind you.

You turned with watery eyes to see a woman, 65 maybe?

You looked in her eyes, a solace look in them.

“Please… look at me. I’m a complete stranger to you. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. But what I do know about you, is you have so much to live for that maybe you don’t realise you have. Take a look around. What do you see?” She began, taking a few steps towards you.

“Bushes, the river, trees.” You listed, taking deep breaths steady your breathing.

“Trees. Look how they’re blowing in the wind. They’ve got no control over themselves. They’re being pushed around and they can’t do anything, but one thing that they are doing, is having a tiny bit of strength to keep them standing. A storm may have big impacts but at the end of the day, they go away. What you’re going through now is just a storm, I promise. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Go travel, go to London, go somewhere you’ve never been before. You’re just stuck in a storm, a bad one, but at the end of everyone is sunshine.”

You listened to her words, taking into account what she was saying.

Slowly but surely, you stepped back from the edge, collapsing into the womens arms.

You’ll never forget that night.

The woman, you didn’t even find out her name, but you knew she was your guardian angel that night.

And although you didn’t completely believe her words, she was right.

You were in the middle of a passing storm.

Not only two days later, you were sat in your managers office being told you were going to another club.

You were given a list of clubs that were interested but one stood out massively, a London club.

You were doing what the woman told you to do, you were going to London.

Which leads you back to the conversation with Katie, your Arsenal teammate.

“Umm… I’ll have to see how tired I am.” You lied, making up a random excuse.

“You said that last time, Y/N.” Alessia pointed out, a playful smile on her face, a completely innocent one which meant no harm.

“And the time before that.” Kyra then added, gently knocking her shoulder into yours.

“Please come, Y/N. I barely know you, it’ll give us time to get to know you.” Steph explained

You hesitated between yes and no.

“Okay. I’ll be there.” You finally said after a few moments.

Everyone cheered, telling you what time to be there and how excited they were that you’d said yes to going.

Maybe these girls aren’t as bad.

—

You were one of the first ones to arrive at the restaurant, not wanting to be late.

Katie and Caitlin were already there and called you over.

One by one, the team filled the table, a buzz filling the air as everyone chatted to each other.

You sat quietly at the end of the table, having nothing really to say.

“What’re you doing for Christmas, Y/N?” Alessia asked, obviously realising no one was talking to you.

“Nothing much. I’ll probably get a few snacks in and watch some…” you began but soon slowed down your words as you set eyes on someone from across the room.

There, sat your guardian angel, your lifesaver.

“Y/N?” Alessia asked, confused but followed your eyeline to see the woman. “Are you okay?”

“I haven’t seen her in months.” You mumbled to yourself but Alessia also heard.

“Who is she?”

“She saved my life.” You responded, not knowing it would lead to you revealing your secret.

“Oh my god…” Alessia whispered, realising it was a big moment for you seeing her again. “Is she a doctor? Were you ill?”

“No.” You shook your head, your eyes not leaving the woman. “My old team, they used to make comments about me. It started with a few - what I thought were harmless - comments but they continued coming. Over message, in the changing rooms, on the pitch. They made me feel like I didn’t belong there - that I didn’t belong on earth. After the match against PSG—” you began

“—The one where you played a few minutes?” Alessia questioned, you nodding in response. “You played incredible that match. You completely turned the game around.”

“Yeah, I thought that too. But after the match in the changing rooms, I got blamed for the loss. My old teammate pushed me to the floor and the rest of them laughed at me. I ended up walking into the rain and walked for miles. I collapsed on this bridge at some point and I decided to go towards the edge. I was counting down in my head. My heart wasn’t racing, I think it was the calmest I’d felt in years. It was what all my teammates wanted so I was going to do them all a favour. I was going to… I was on seven when I heard a voice behind me. It was her. She saved me.” You explained, looking back to Alessia but seeing 25 sets of eyes on you.

Most of the girls had tears in their eyes, your story hitting them hard.

“That’s why it took so long for to come out with you. It wasn’t any of you personally and I’m sorry if it felt like that but I don’t think I can ever trust teammates again.”

“Y/N, don’t say sorry.” Leah’s breathed out, leaning over the table to take your hand in hers. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I know it might take some time to realise but not all teams are like them. If you can, can you please trust us. We want to show you what being in a true team feels like.” Kim told you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

“We’re here for you, Y/N. Here at Arsenal, we’re not just a club, we’re a family. Whether you like it or not. Some of us - Kyra - can be annoying sometimes but at the end of the day, we’re a family, and that’s the most important part. We’d like nothing more than to be your family from now on.” Lia added, sending you a smile.

“A family, huh? I think I’d like that.” You said, a smile appearing on your face.

“Enough of that now. That’s your past, it’s time to think about the future. And I’m not having you all alone on Christmas so you’re coming with me to my family on Christmas.” Alessia stated confidently, not giving you any choice.

“Alessia, I can’t, it’s your—”

“Ah, no — remember we’re family.” Alessia told you, hitting your shoulder with hers.

“Family.” You whispered quietly, smiling to yourself.

You took another look over to the woman.

She was still talking away to the man she was with but managed to catch your eye.

She sent a wink and a smile over to you.

You took your eyes off her for seconds and when you looked again, she was gone.

You never knew her name, and you didn’t know who she was, but you couldn’t be more grateful.

Not only had she saved your life that night, but she had also brought you a family.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc #arsenal women

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vaguely-concerned · 2 days ago

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huh. you know something I just consciously put together for the first time about caterina and lucanis' relationship is that through the game we get to hear them talk about each other a lot, but we get very few chances to hear them speak with each other at any length at all. contrast it with other companions whose storylines have elements of 'believed lost/long time no see relative returns!' like bellara and davrin, where we get to see both of them have several pretty in-depth conversations with cyrian and eldrin. hell I think even rook talks with varric longer in the regret prison scene than we ever get to see lucanis and caterina interact directly.

(and when we do see them interact, it's mostly one-sided -- it is, perhaps unsurprisingly, caterina who is doing most of the talking and giving all the orders, as he ruefully observes is her wont after murder of crows. including jumpscaring him with 'you're first talon now btw' and the shocked pikachu face in five acts he goes through in response lmao. perhaps it's more accurate to say that she talks at him and he reacts, than that they talk to each other much.)

it has such an interesting effect too, because in deliberately denying us direct insight or experience and only having this mosaic of description from each of them to go on, as well as forcing us to pay attention to the negative space of what is carefully not said, it's evocative along the same principle that you never actually show the monster in a horror film. if you've read the wigmaker job you have a clearer image of the more uh. worrying elements at play here going in, but there is something fascinatingly insidious and naturalistic in the way it's 'hushed up' in the game itself. she has his complete loyalty both as a member of her house and, more importantly, that of an abused child to a parent figure. he readily admits several times that she's a difficult person to live with, an even more difficult person to be loved by ("even for me. and I was her favourite")... but never once does he actively blame her nor truly conceptualize that he has every right to do so (that he can be angry with her and still love her, because whether he should or not he unavoidably does), or that she might have acted differently than she did, that she made a choice every time to hurt him. even affectionately he speaks of her as a force of nature, an act of god -- something that can't be reasoned or pleaded with or resisted, something you can only hope to navigate with as little pain as possible and pray to survive. let yourself get carried away by the riptide, resisting it will only make it worse. you don't compromise with a hurricane, you just try to find the best shelter you can and cross your fingers while you wait for it to pass and be calm again.

love is that hurricane. you do whatever she asks. you earn her continued affection day by day by never letting her down. you only want the things she tells you it's okay to want and cut everything else away preemptively. ("A wyvern tooth dagger?? I loved wyverns as a boy --Caterina would never let me have one of these, though." and as we have all wept and gnashed our teeth over, it never even OCCURS to him that he's a like thirty-five year old adult man who can buy himself any dagger he wants at any time. she said he couldn't have one. so he'll never have one. that's just how it works. and maybe if Illario could just accept that and find his peace with it like I have, this whole thing wouldn't be so difficult. oh lucanis.)

such is the price -- and the cost -- of being loved by her, it's a loan on which the interest will never stop piling up. you have to keep paying it down in perfection every day if you want to keep it. who got the worse deal there: the grandson who has abandoned everything else in life to live up to that and mostly succeeded, until the day he's so burned out and broken it threatens to no longer be an option, or the grandson who can never seem to scrape together enough worth in her eyes no matter how he begs, borrows or steals it, how he hustles and plays dirty?

one of the worst things that can happen to anyone is to be loved by a selfish god. another one of the worst things that can ever happen to anyone is to not be loved by a selfish god. (hope that helps, boys!) even in betraying everything else, Illario can't bring himself to hurt his grandmother, because that would defeat the whole point. who would he defiantly be proving himself worthy to, without her. in love, devotion, submission, hatred, frustration, bitterness, everything is defined in relation to her, you can spot the gravitational force of it through how the dellamorte family move through time and space. she -- her love and regard and attention -- is still the sun both of their worlds orbit around, even as adults. the game might never tell you outright 'she used to beat and starve them growing up. for their own good you see, so they'd be strong (and broken down enough for her to build them up again however she wanted but I'm sure that's incidental)', but if you know even a little bit about how these dynamics can work the writing is on the wall everywhere you look and all the more unsettling for it.

follow lucanis' freeze-logic and fraught interpersonal catch 22 irreconcilable mixed emotions problems back far enough, looong before the ossuary entered the picture, and you start to see caterina's ghost around every fucking corner. she is so proud of him. (well, she would be. she made him. she forged exactly the knife she needed and it rests willingly, devotedly, in her hands, it would return to her every time because it doesn't know love as anything but to be a knife. his tama never taught him how to be anything else. his biggest fear with her is that she won't even want him back, the way he is now.) to the best ability of her soul, whatever parts of it survived a lifetime of crow politics and 'five children, eight grandchildren, only Illario and me left now', I think she really does loves him. he certainly loves her, with all the sincerity and artless desperation of a child, of the little boy he was once. and what she's done to him (and to illario, for all his shitty gremlin scar-ass antics lol) is awful. the harm is real, and the love is real, and trying to find a way for these two truths to exist in the same space is driving all three of them their own individualized forms of insane. you know. the way only family can and so often does lol.

through implications and short glimpses and having to put the pieces together yourself, you can have the feeling that there is very genuine mutual love and attachment in this relationship... and that beneath that there is something so profoundly wrong. and the sneaking '...oh shit it gets worse the longer I think about it' horror of that is more effective for me at least than the stark in-your-face presentation of the facts of the matter could have been. the love is here. the love is here. it only ever makes it worse.

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #lucanis dellamorte #caterina dellamorte #illario #dragon age meta #*sighs and climbs back down into the dellamorte family feels and horror mines yet again right after breakfast* it's a living #when you're barely even getting to play the game because your brain is a boiling cauldron of feelings that need to be processed #between every time you can take anything new in fhsakjhfsda #head in hands. we do need to get him out of there is the thing. I think we kind of do need to do that. in some kind of way #(I do feel that the only thing that might drive him more than the fear of disappointing caterina is the fear of losing rook again #when romanced. so you know. there's every reason to hope. he has a solid support network of godkilling maniacs now #and some spaces he can go to to like. think and experience things that aren't all in her shadow. I think he'll get there)#lucanis greatest fears: 4) harding's cooking #3/2 shared place): bellara's fun little 'oooh but what if *worst thing that could ever happen to you illario fakeout betrayal and death #scenario* would that be fucked up or WHAT. (god.) 3/2 shared place) truly disappointing caterina and telling her no. 1) tfw no rook :'(

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demonic0angel · 21 hours ago

Text

Christmas + Gotham City Spirits

Bruce sipped at his coffee, reading through the recent reports of a case a few days ago. The coffee blend was faintly peppermint-flavored because due to the holiday season, Stephanie had replaced everything in the coffee making station with Christmas themed items.

It tasted good, so no one complained too much.

The chatter in the cave was calming, a distant lull with the sound of his loved ones’ voices. None of them had gone on patrol yet, although they were all dressed in their vigilante suits. Dick and Jason were arguing over the movie they wanted to watch on their semi-weekly Movie Nights, and Cass and Steph were egging them on. Tim and Damian were gone, having left using the Batmobile to pick up something.

They would be back any minute now—

Tim and Damian drove into the Batcave in that moment, and although their parking was gentle, they both flew out of the car like it was on fire. Damian was holding an ice cream cup, despite it being the only a day from Christmas, while Tim was holding a milkshake.

Bruce looked back down at the reports, unconcerned after seeing no blood, limping, or drugs.

“The Batmobile is haunted!” screamed Tim, and Bruce paused in reading his papers. He looked up again and watched as the others approached, confused murmurs and questions filling the air.

“Huh?? What happened?!”

Tim and Damian were trying to explain the events that led up to this moment. Damian was standing next to Tim, who was ranting up and down about what happened.

“Okay, so I was taking Damian for ice cream,” cue some coos from Dick and Steph, with Bruce mentally joining in, “when we were arguing in the car. I hadn’t realized that I had taken my eyes off of the steering wheel until Damian pointed it out. The car was driving on its own! And the autopilot wasn’t turned on!”

Bruce resisted the urge to smack his forehead.

Of course this was how they were discovered. He could almost sense the awkward guilt coming off of the Batmobile from the distance where it was parked in the cave.

“So… you think it’s ghosts?” Steph asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tim and Damian shared a look and then nodded.

“Ghosts?” Jason snorted. “Are you kidding? I bet you’re seeing things.”

“It was real, Todd! Just because you’re brain damaged doesn’t mean the rest of us are—“

Dick interrupted him, “Well, I mean Deadman and Gentleman Ghost exist. Who’s to say that the Batmobile isn’t haunted?”

Jason opened his mouth to argue some more, but Tim spoke up then. “Bruce? You don’t seem surprised.”

Bruce paused on taking a sip of his coffee. All of his children turned to stare at him.

It was Cass who said, “He knows something.”

More than just knew.

Bruce had met and befriended the ghost that haunted the Batmobile. And the Batcomputer. And the gargoyles in Gotham. And the parks. And Arkham Asylum. And Crime Alley. And Blüdhaven. And Gotham City itself.

The point was… Bruce had more than just knowledge on the ghosts haunting the things around him.

————

It had first begun when Batman had started appearing within the city. He had just started working as a vigilante for a few months when one day, he had noticed odd circumstances happening around him.

It happened sporadically, almost randomly enough that he hadn’t gotten suspicious for awhile, but when a pattern was beginning to form, he began to notice.

Whenever he could’ve sworn his hook wouldn’t attach properly to the building, it seemed as though something moved and made it fit perfectly, allowing him to swing to his destination. Whenever he thought that he had lost a criminal, a new alleyway that he wouldn’t be able to recognize would pop up and allow him to block the runaway’s path. Whenever he felt like his computer wouldn’t be able to calculate something or find new information, it would miraculously give him data that he knew for sure that a mere computer could not find.

The most prominent evidence was with the Batmobile. At times, it would speed up on its own, even when he was extremely controlled in how he used the brakes and gas. At others, it would have minuscule but noticeable changes such as adjustments to seating and temperature inside of the car. At one point, Bruce distinctly remembered the car turning and sliding unnaturally past danger, which helped him avoid crashing into a narrow street’s wall when he was dodging gunfire. It had been strange because he was sure that he was going to scrape the car against the wall, but it never happened.

Bruce had personally worked on it with Alfred’s help, so any signs of tampering were impossible. There was no explanation for it, no matter how much Bruce dismantled the car and remade it over and over again.

Even Alfred had that strange look in his eyes now, as if wondering if Bruce had delusions from one too many concussions.

Bruce scoured his library for information, looked up anything on the internet, and even asked informants and help from the few contacts that he knew.

They had a few answers, but none of them made a lot of sense.

In the end, Bruce decided to just confront the problem head-on.

On a lonely summer night, Bruce entered his car and sat in the driving seat, breathing out slowly. Usually, the car did not act out everyday, but today, Bruce had been driving in order to dodge the police that wanted to capture him, and he had seen how the car moved without his turning of the wheel to drive past sharp corners. This had earned him a few precious minutes necessary to throw the police off his trail and allow him to get away.

All this told him was that the car was of help to him, but nothing else.

He started the car, allowing the familiar rumble of his car warm him up. He allowed the Batmobile to run as he thought of what to say.

When he formalized his speech, Bruce cleared his throat and stared at the inside of his car, sleek and polished all over.

“I-I’ve been noticing a few things lately. Strange things happening. I think that you’ve been helping me. I’m… thankful. Thank you for helping me away from the cops today. I appreciate it.”

His voice reverberated inside of the empty car.

“However, I want to meet you. If you’re there. Are you… sentient?” He asked.

The car did not speak.

Well, of course, it couldn’t speak.

He flushed with humiliation as he mentally berated himself. Was he so paranoid, so tired that he was now believing that a car could respond back to him? No wonder Alfred was thinking he was insane.

But in the next moment, he ate his thoughts as the car gave an answering rumble without him revving the car or doing anything.

Bruce stared. Then he said, “Make something move if that was real.”

Another moment of silence. Then there was a click and the windshield wipers began to turn on, swiping across the glass.

Bruce’s breath caught.

“You’re sentient!” He cried, unable to believe it. The air around him began to chill and he watched as the temperature of the air conditioner dropped rapidly until it was low, making his breath come out in vapor. He shivered and looked around frantically.

“Yes,” a soft voice said, “I am.”

Bruce turned to the side, where the voice appeared. A small girl, who looked barely even five, stared at him with wide eyes through a domino mask and a suit that wasn't unlike his. She was tiny, with a black ponytail behind her head and a cape attached to her neck.

He stared and watched as the fabric on her body sparkled with a metallic sheen and her hair flowed in a nonexistent breeze within the enclosed car.

"Are you... a ghost or something?"

The girl smiled. "Kinda." She kicked her feet and giggled. "I'm the spirit that haunts this car. But if you had a plane or a boat, I could haunt those too." She paused and then eagerly asked, "Could you get one? I think it'd be really cool!"

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. “I… I’ll try. What are you, exactly? Can you tell me more about yourself? What are you here for?”

Perhaps he could’ve asked more questions. Maybe he should’ve asked whether or not she was good. She was an unknown variable in his long-term plans, but he couldn’t muster up the animosity needed to interrogate her, not while she looked at him and like him in similar clothes and a smaller form.

“I’m a ghost, and my haunt is your vehicle,” she replied blithely. “I was brought here because my family is also here. They’re also ghosts, and there’s a lot of them around. I think all of my siblings are awake, and so are our friends. A few are still asleep, I think… but I promise we mean no harm. We’re supposed to protect life, as beings who have already crossed to the other side and made a deal with Lady Gotham and Lady Blüdhaven.”

Bruce stared at the ghost in his passenger seat.

“Pardon?”

She explained in more detail. Several centuries ago, Gotham City and Blüdhaven were the haunts of two powerful sister spirits who protected the city and powered it via the emotions of their citizens and their own strength. However, something had befallen them, and they had asked for help from the Ghost King. He had agreed to take over for them, and in one final sacrifice, both city spirits had died and then tied their cities to the Ghost King and his family, who he had asked to assist him.

They all separated and formed their own haunts via some time shenanigans that she would not elaborate on. And thus, several ghosts haunted both cities. There was supposedly one city spirit in Blüdhaven, since it was a much smaller city, and over six in Gotham.

She, ‘Dani’ as she called herself, was one of them.

“We’re usually asleep and we don’t really have awareness or sentience like a normal person most of the time. So it’s difficult for us to age too.” She yawned at this moment. “I’m a weaker spirit, so I have a really small haunt. My big brothers all have a city to themselves, but the rest of us get smaller stuff.”

Bruce asked, “Are you tired?”

She rubbed at the mask that covered her eyes irritably before nodding with another yawn. “I’ll try to come back,” she said, “but I’m usually not “out” like this, so it’s tiring. But the more you take care of me and Gotham, the stronger I’ll get, like my siblings.”

A hand seemed to clench at Bruce’s heart.

More people to depend on him. Another cause to be stronger, faster, and smarter. Further reasons for him to be better, so he could help his city.

“Oh.”

She smiled at him, and it brought a little warmth back into the chill surrounding him. “But I’ll help you. No matter what, we spirits are on your side, Batman.”

Bruce returned the smile. “Thank you.”

It was almost unbelievable, but the amount of details in her explanation proved her right and the way she explained things made sense. No wonder he had so much success as Batman. No wonder it felt like he could run forever on Gotham’s streets and catch criminals all night. No wonder it felt like the city called for him like a beacon, even without the Bat-Signal.

She nodded and in the next blink, she was gone. The temperature increased back to normal. The car was silent and so was Bruce, as he sat in the plush, leather seats and thought to himself. In the end, there was nothing else to do but harden his resolve to do better and help Gotham City.

He met her a few more times, and they officially formed a team, where she would help accelerate the speed of whatever vehicle he was using to get to fight crime and help victims quicker. In return, he would care of the vehicles and allowed her to do what she needed to do without interference.

As time passed, Bruce met the rest of the city spirits.

There was one in Crime Alley, sweet and tall for the age that she looked and laden with bloody pearls that made him avoid looking at her, who was kind and clever. She told him that she had awakened when his parents died, but her gentle condolences did not infuriate him like others did. ‘Jazz’ was her name, and she told him that she would watch over the children in her domain.

He traveled through Gotham City knowing that she would take care of Crime Alley whenever he couldn’t muster up the strength to enter.

There was one in the parks of Gotham, thin and oddly goth, who was stubborn and cool and extremely opinionated. She was even younger than the spirit in Crime Alley, and had a lot of opinions on garden care and vegetarianism. ‘Sam’, she wanted to be called, and she told him not to call her Samantha or she’d make him trip over roots.

He spent money on maintaining the parks in Gotham, and Alfred noted how his own personal gardens in Wayne Manor never seemed to die or wilt.

There was a growing spirit in the computers of the Batcave, gangly and quick-witted and mischievous, who was the same age as the park spirit and grew slowly with advancing technology and only appeared when Bruce was in a rush or desperate. He was named ‘Tucker’, and he liked helping, but only when it was interesting or when he was really needed.

Bruce carefully developed new software and installed better tech every opportunity he could, and the Batcomputer never failed him.

There was another in Arkham Asylum, stern and strong-looking, who was confident and hot-tempered and the same age as the Batcave spirit. She was brave and strong-willed, hating the more murderous patients of the asylum, but had all of the forgiveness and patience needed for the more misguided ones. Her name was ‘Valerie’, and she promised to hold back as many escapees as she could.

He captured runaway patients for her and visited her personally to thank her every time he heard of a failed escape attempt.

There was also a spirit that haunted the gargoyles of Gotham, wily and observant, who traveled from each stone statue for information. He liked investigating things, but hated injustice and lies, and he promised to help Bruce whenever he could find the strength to manifest. ‘Call me Wes’, he had said, before launching into a rant about how annoying the Gotham City spirit was.

They would occasionally exchange information every now and then, with Wes offering blackmail and details for every case he needed.

Bruce had only met the spirit of Blüdhaven once. He was aggressive and murderous, but when Batman had visited the second time for a case, he recognized all of the signs of a spirit’s protection, even though he also attempted to throw him off a few buildings. The Blüdhaven City spirit was hateful but not unreasonable, and although Bruce was encouraged by the other siblings, he decided to just leave the city alone because this ‘Dan’ did not like leaving his domain.

Bruce largely did not bother him. In the future, he would make more frequent trips and bring news of the spirits in Gotham. At least falling beams didn’t drop on him anymore.

He had already met Dani, who haunted the vehicles inside of the Batcave. She loved driving and flying and racing through any part of Gotham. When needed, she could transport herself into any and all vehicles owned by Bruce and his associates, and then power it to be even faster through the strength given to her by Gotham City and the determination of the driver. She was small in size but big in personality, and her carefree, fun-loving personality gave him much relief whenever he needed her as he traveled to wherever needed him most.

He took care of all of his vehicles and crafts, and she pushed him to help quicker.

And lastly, the most impressive and unimpressive spirit of all was the spirit of Gotham. He was a small thing, slender and unassuming, dressed in ragged clothes in his human form with the sharp, haunted eyes of a child from Crime Alley. His name was ‘Danny’, and although he seemed unnoticeable at first, he was noble and kind. When he wasn’t dressed in the starry veil of his spirit form, he was out and about on the streets, helping others as a homeless kid. He helped the forgotten, the downtrodden, the poor, and sick as best as he could.

Unlike his siblings and friends, who were weak and could not be out as a human for long, Danny was not the same. Looking like a small pre-teen, he helped his citizens as much as he could by offering shelter, an extra hand, some random change, and a careful warning.

He supported Bruce in any way that he could, and Bruce wanted nothing more than to make him proud by helping the city.

Time passed.

The spirits, having now awakened with Batman’s debut, began to grow up.

Bruce did not allow himself to be left behind. He grew and learned and trained and did better for his city. The spirits did not appear often, but whenever they were truly needed, they never let him down.

Only a few years into being Batman, he adopted Dick Grayson.

When Dick became Robin, he had been worried about the reaction of the spirits, but they had not appeared angry and even seemed approving, with the way they protected Dick more than Bruce.

He could’ve felt jealous, but really, it was just cute. With how old Dick was and how some of the spirits looked, they could’ve been the same age.

Barbara Gordon soon joined their crew as Batgirl, and the trio helped Gotham by running through its streets for a few more years.

When Bruce had fired Dick in hopes of him retiring and living a peaceful life without harm, Dick had changed his identity of Robin to Nightwing and moved to Blüdhaven.

Bruce nearly had a heart attack from the thought of it, but Danny had laughed and reassured him that Dan had readily accepted him and chosen him as a champion.

“A champion?” Bruce had asked. “What’s that?”

“A champion is a specific hero that a spirit can support and defend. You’re my champion,” Danny smiled, tapping the little batarang-shaped brooch near his heart. “That means I support you. Dan will support Nightwing. He’s possessive, so rest assured that Nightwing will be very, very protected by him.”

And so Bruce breathed a sigh of relief, let him go, and tried not to worry.

Not that long after, Bruce met Jason Todd, who was also quickly adopted.

Jazz had seemed particularly happy, always at the edge of Bruce’s vision whenever she could as he and Jason soared over Gotham roofs.

“Is he her champion?” Bruce had asked Danny. “Since he’s born and raised in Crime Alley?”

Danny chuckled, but he seemed tired. “You’ll see.”

Bruce did not see, because Jason had presumably thrown someone off of a building and then ran off to find his mother, getting killed in the process. By the time Batman had arrived in a plane with its engines nearly combusting from going so fast, it had been too late.

Jason, his son, was dead.

He would no longer smile and make quippy remarks. He would no longer help Alfred in the kitchen. He would no longer fall asleep on the manor’s library, an open book on his lap. He would no longer fly over Gotham and be his partner.

Red, yellow, and green would no longer be by Batman’s side.

Because Robin was dead.

The grief nearly consumed him. He blamed himself. He blamed the Joker. He blamed Jason. He blamed Dick.

He blamed the spirits.

Anything and everything was a target of his sorrow and rage.

He couldn’t help it.

He had already lost family once and became a vigilante to fight crime.

He didn’t know what to do now that he had lost family again, when the cause of death was vigilantism.

Gotham City wasted away as the spirits and Batman mourned for the little Robin who would never fly again, buried in Gotham soil.

Bruce mourned and hated everything in equal measure.

"It's your fault!" He screamed, as Danny stared at him blankly. He was dressed in his extravagant and otherworldly spirit form, his face and eyes covered by a long veil train covered in stars. His clean, neat form only seemed even more infuriating as Bruce felt like he was dissolving from his own madness. "If-If Jason hadn't been— if he had— if only—!"

Danny responded to none of his words until he insulted Jazz, the Crime Alley spirit, for Jason's death. It had been an irrational statement from grief, but they cared not one whit. All hell broke loose as Bruce was kicked off of the roof. He narrowly got away by using his grappling hook, but after that, things began to go badly.

Computer malfunctions, never ending pop music in the Batcave, engine failure, vehicles that refused to open or work properly, tree branches that deliberately slapped him or roots that tripped him on every step, sirens of the Arkham Asylum wailing every day and night, gorgoyles that would move and bat away his grappling hooks— the spirits began to turn against him in petty revenge and pranks.

It had not resulted in deaths of innocents, as even they knew limits, but they never failed to make his life even more miserable or inconvenient than ever.

It wasn't until Batman, in his exhaustion, nearly fell off of a roof and became a splatter on the ground in Crime Alley, and was picked up by the neck like a scruffed kitten by a disgruntled Crime Alley spirit, did it all stop.

"I see you haven't been having a good time," Jazz said. She looked like a teenager now, with her hair in ironed curls and a blindfold around her eyes as she frowned at him.

"... yes," Batman said, because he almost never apologized in his life and in his depression, felt like it was unfair that she got to act out while he could not.

"Batman," she said, her voice stern. "We mourn with you. After all, Jason is one of our own too. He came from my domain and I allowed you to meet him. Danny accepted him as a protector of Gotham and he flew alongside you for years. It was Dani that tried to get you to him faster. It is Danny's soil that he is buried in. His brother lives in Dan's domain as his champion. We all mourn for him, Batman. That does not give you the right to unnecessarily take your anger out on us or any of Gotham's citizens."

"I am meant to protect Gotham," he spat. "I was chosen as his champion!"

"And yet you're breaking limbs for petty crimes. You're terrorizing the streets like a madman. You're making the citizens scared. You are a symbol of redemption and change in this city, Batman. You are not a sign of fear or hatred. Get your act together. Batman is still needed."

Then she dropped him on the roof and left.

Bruce went back into mourning, licking his emotional wounds, but none of the spirits pranked him anymore.

They seemed... pitying.

Bruce apologized to Jazz and blamed it on grief. She forgave him easily, and his world was nothing but gray again.

He tried, but it was hard. Dick did not care enough to come help, lost in Dan's city and his own mourning for his little brother while Barbara had been forced onto the sidelines from her paralysis, which left Bruce on his own, adrift and untethered, unable to blame anyone and unable to unleash his anger. Alfred was there, but like always, he was only a stony pillar in his life. The spirits refused to handle his rage, so all that was left was just an ache for a lost son and a mindless need to run himself to the ground to perhaps quicken his journey to join his family again.

It was the spirits who helped him once more.

Danny subtly nudged Timothy Drake in his direction, and he soon became another Robin with Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain joining his team.

Bruce got better, but he was not perfect. He was still angry and hurt and ever-so-slightly lost. But he continued on.

After all, if he quit now, then what was all of this suffering for?

The spirits continued to assist him, along with his family. They were powerful, not omniscient, but no matter what, everything they did was for the betterment of Gotham City.

Time passed with Tim as his Robin, when Jason came back.

With a hunger for revenge and to test Bruce's love for him.

Bruce was so, so, so tired.

He loved his sons. His daughter(s). He loved his family and his duty and he loved Gotham City, but sometimes, it felt as though it was pulling him apart.

Danny and the other spirits (especially Jazz and Valerie) had always lectured him on taking breaks and knowing when to rest, of knowing his limits and being willing to quit when necessary, but Bruce always found it difficult.

As he watched Jason almost self-destruct in his rage and hatred, Bruce wondered if they would blame him if he quit here and now.

But he didn’t.

Things changed. Jason had changed from that sweet, intelligent, charming boy into a young man with a short fuse and an even quicker urge to kill. He beat up Tim, killed dozens of people, and took over the underworld, all to spite Bruce.

In a way, he was proud and so disappointed.

It was Jazz who approached him on the nights that Danny usually spent with him.

Bruce looked up at her, lovely and beautiful and so hauntingly tall that she looked like a monster, just like the domain she haunted, both dangerous and amazing all in one.

She bent down and shifted into her civilian form, one with black and white formal wear, her hair straightened into its natural state as she smiled with bright, turquoise eyes. This way, she looked soft and gentle, a little different from her cold and strict persona as a city spirit of the most violent part of Gotham.

“I can help you with Jason,” she said, when he turned to look at her. When his eyes widened, she continued, “I was going to do it anyways, but I want you to know what you need to do as well.”

“… what do I need to do?”

Jazz smiled. “Just try to welcome him back? It will all work out.”

“Both Jazz and I will help you,” Danny then spoke, from Bruce’s other side. When he turned, he saw Danny, dressed in a ratty hoodie and scuffed up sneakers. Danny smiled teasingly. “I can’t let my champion go without his family, right? Jason has been chosen as Jazz’s champion. You don’t have to agree with his methods, but that is a problem of Jazz and Jason.”

“And I don’t care,” Jazz said tonelessly. “I don’t like it, but it has proven effective. Do not try to stop him too much, Batman. He needs to learn for himself.”

Bruce scowled, hating the fact that both spirits condoned murders, even if they were the deaths of criminals and drug dealers, but Gotham City and Crime Alley had spoken and he had learned his lesson before in rejecting their advice and going against them.

They were not his enemies.

They did not have to agree with him, and he was not beholden to their beliefs either.

They trusted him, and they were his closest and longest allies.

He sighed. “I understand.”

Jazz smiled, patted his arm, and then disappeared back to her domain. Danny stayed behind and they chatted for a long while before he too, had to leave before coming back for the next meeting.

It was frustrating at times, how the spirits could not always be there, but Bruce knew that they could not help it. They still had not gained enough strength to appear constantly, and they tried their hardest to help him even in their passive states.

Bruce sighed and moved on to try and coax Jason into a healthier, less murderous lifestyle with a lot less lecturing and judging, which seemed to shock Dick and Jason. (He pretended not to be offended by this.)

When Bruce saw Jazz next time in her spirit form, he felt a little emotional and sentimental when she appeared with a symbol of Jason's Red Hood on her chest, tying her fur coat together as a brooch, not unlike the brooch on Danny’s chest that looked like Batman’s signal.

Jason got the help he needed from Jazz (Bruce wasn’t entirely sure how this was done since neither of them nor Danny said a word about it to him and Bruce knew that Jason had never met any of the spirits), and soon, he began to integrate himself back into the family. Tim was a little resistant at first, but things were looking up.

But this was life, where the chaos never ended.

Soon, Damian joined the team and tried to kill Tim. Bruce barely held himself back from shipping him straight back to the League, but Danny and Dani knocked some sense into him, and even Jazz came to scold him heavily. Bruce was lectured day and night by disappointed city spirits and eventually, he taught himself to be patient and kind to his youngest son, who had been torn away from a life he knew into one that was very, very different.

Damian was insufferable at times, but Bruce found that he truly did love his son. He grew up kind and honorable, and in the end, it felt worth it.

Bruce wished that life would become sunshine and rainbows, but this was Gotham City, covered in smog and clouds and haunted by a teenage ghost who was friends with a tech geek spirit and a goth spirit. Things happened one after another and although the spirits prevented some things from happening, it was inevitable that they could not help him when he was not on Gotham or Blüdhaven soil.

Bruce got knocked into the timestream. Danny traveled with him and throughout the different timelines, several other city spirits appeared, even Dan, and they helped him survive and get back to his family.

And finally, when Bruce was reunited with his family, with his sons and daughter and mentally adopted daughter and butler, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

————

Things had been relatively peaceful now, with no major fights or violent disagreements between any of his children or family. Even the city had been calm for awhile, most like in preparation for the holidays.

Bruce snapped out of his memories when his children all turned to him, staring intensely for answers. He blinked as they all stared at him with wide eyes.

"B?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow, "what do you think?"

Bruce was quiet.

He hadn't meant to keep the secret for so long, but he just could never find an opportunity to bring it up.

Eventually, as his children all stared at him with growing concern, doubt, and confusion, he said, “No, it’s true. Both Gotham City and Blüdhaven are haunted.”

There were gasps and then cries of confusion and demands for answers. Tim looked at him for clarification, as Damian gloated over the fact that he and Tim already knew. Bruce’s lips twitched in a smile before Jason suddenly asked, “Wait a minute! If it really is haunted, then how do you know and not us? Did you meet them before?”

Bruce tilted his head as his children turned to look at him again. Then he said, “I knew them in my first year of being Batman.”

“That was before I adopted,” Dick muttered to himself, but everyone only looked even more interested.

“So you met them? The ghosts or whatever? Can we see them right now? Are they in the car?” Stephanie rambled.

Bruce thought about it. The spirits did not mind being outed (in fact, they had protested to being kept a secret and Bruce was constantly nagged about his poor habit of doing so), so they wouldn’t be angry if he brought the entire family to meet them now.

It was high time his children met the spirits of the city.

Bruce nodded. “I can take you to meet them. I have to give them their Christmas presents anyways.”

They all cheered again and burst with more questions. Bruce ignored them, even Dick who was climbing him like a tree and whining to know more, as he collected the presents that he had gotten for the spirits. He went to the Batcomputer, still ignoring Dick and Cass who were now hanging off of him, and typed a short message into a document.

‘Meet up at Amusement Mile in 10 minutes.’

He left it open, as Tim then asked, “You can communicate with the ghost through the Batcomputer? Are they actually ghosts?”

“You’ll see,” Bruce said, as Dick and Cass were now attempting to choke him for answers. He collected a few more presents and a laptop. He tossed his kids off of him and dodged another attempt by Steph to catch him before he whistled.

He threw a pair of keys to Jason, who looked at it, confused.

“Take that bike, will you?” Bruce asked, pointing to the shiny new black adventure bike. “You can follow after the car.”

Jason whistled as he finally recognized the new bike. “Damn! When the hell did you get this beauty?”

Stephanie raised a hand enthusiastically. “Can I come with?!”

“Hop on, blondie. Can we go now?”

Bruce resisted the urge to sigh.

For a moment, he was unsure of himself.

For so long, the existence of the spirits were solely his. No one around him knew that they were there.

And now, both sides, his family and the spirits, would be officially meeting for the first time.

He shook off the thoughts and got into the Batmobile, where the rest of his team followed. He made sure that all of them were wearing the appropriate gear and uniform, since it was already winter and only growing colder. Damian complained but Dick was able to wrap a scarf around his neck.

Bruce didn’t fully close the door again when Alfred walked into the cave and asked, “When will all of you expect to be back, Master Bruce?”

He paused. Then he said, “Do you want to come with, Alfred?”

“Oh dear. Whatever for?”

“To meet the ghosts!” Damian spoke up for Bruce. “Come with us, Pennyworth. It’ll surely be interesting.”

Alfred sighed, though there was a touch of fondness before he also entered the Batmobile. Cass easily surrendered the passenger seat to him, slipping into the back.

Jason, from the new bike, laughed and crowed, “Hell yeah! Now it’s a full party!”

Bruce couldn’t resist a smile as he patted the steering wheel. The Batmobile began to purr and soon enough, they all sped out of the cave and through the streets of Gotham. The sun was starting to set, casting the world in orange hues. His children were all in the backseat, chattering and making theories as Jason and Stephanie joined in on their own comms. Both he and Alfred sat together in companionable silence as Bruce idly drove.

Then, as they reached a good spot, he let go of the wheel and said, “Dani, your turn.”

The car swerved out of control and just as Tim and Dick yelped loudly, the car steadied itself, straightening, and then immediately went into overdrive, zipping through the streets. The view outside of the windows passed into a colorful blur too fast to see as the engine rumbled like thunder.

“Holy Batman!” Dick screamed with a laugh as they swerved and turned crazily, narrowly dodging a sharp corner.

Everyone in the car tilted dramatically before Dani righted the car again and they all dropped back into their seats.

“Good heavens!” Alfred cried, hanging onto his chair tightly with wide eyes as the car continued accelerating into impossible speeds.

Bruce just smiled, sitting still while his kids were all squealing from the rapid maneuvers of Dani. They all looked like they were having fun though, and Bruce just held tightly onto the presents as Dani approached Amusement Mile.

After nearly jumping over the gates, she immediately slowed down to a smooth halt in front of an empty food court in the abandoned theme park.

“Oh my god, I think I’m dizzy,” Tim complained.

“You’re so weak,” Damian snipped back, although he looked a little dazed himself. Meanwhile, Cass and Dick were beaming wide smiles, looking as though they wanted to do that again.

“The autopilot wasn’t on, so was that one of the ghosts who controlled the car?” Dick asked cheerfully.

Bruce nodded, avoiding Alfred’s sharp glares. “You’ll meet them all today.” He left the car, helping out Cass and Tim. Jason and Stephanie arrived moments later.

“B! What the hell?! Why were you going so fast?!”

“It was the ghost!” Tim said. “He was controlling the car.”

“‘She’,” Bruce corrected. “It’s a she that’s controlling the car.”

When everyone turned to look at him critically for more answers, he turned his face away and opened up the laptop that he took from the Batcave. He opened it and placed it on a table placed in the outside food court. It turned on with a blink and Bruce put in the password.

“… did you just type 696969?” Stephanie asked, sounding extremely amused.

Bruce sighed as his kids all snickered like preteen boys.

The place around them was empty and dusty. His children, after observing him for a moment as he typed away on the laptop, silently found seats around him at the tables of the food court, all seated close to each other. Alfred remained standing, looking around in a slightly confused fashion but unwilling to say a word. Bruce looked down at his feet, where grass and weeds were growing in the cracks of the neglected cement.

Then he focused on the laptop again and pressed a few buttons on the laptop before taking a step back.

His kids all perked up. Even Alfred straightened the tiniest bit.

There was a crackle.

And then—

“Batman!” A voice called.

Everyone turned to look at the car, where Dani was sitting on top. She was dressed in her civilian clothes, a pair of jeans and a regular sweater. She waved happily, lovely and warm like sunshine. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and when she hopped off of the roof of the Batmobile, it bounced around her face in wild waves.

She approached and everyone but Bruce stared in confusion and fascination.

“I thought I’d finally come out since you didn’t say anything,” Dani explained to Bruce. She turned to his kids and waved. A few waved back.

A new voice appeared. “Ugh, what took you so long to bring me here?”

Tucker stretched. He was also in his civilian form and he wiggled his fingers playfully when the others whipped their heads around to gape at him. He sat down at a table and said, “You took forever to bring me out. When is everyone else coming?”

“Already here,” Sam said, bored and in full goth, stepping out of a patch of grass to sit next to Tucker. “Wassup, Bruce.”

Bruce acknowledged her with a nod.

“We’re here,” Wes said, coming out of the walls with Valerie by his side. Both were also dressed casually. “Sorry, are we late?”

“We still have the other three,” Sam said. “B is introducing us to his kids.”

“Finally!” Valerie snapped, sitting down with a huff. “We’ve been telling you to tell them for so long!”

Bruce said, “I know, but none of them figured it out until now.”

“Hey,” Dick complained, “How are we supposed to know? They’re ghosts!”

Bruce gave him a level look. “Through observation and careful inspection. You should’ve—“

“Lay off of them, Bruce,” Sam interrupted with a small smile. “We kept ourselves hidden from them because it seemed like you didn’t want them to know.”

At this, everyone glared at Bruce, while he just sighed. Dani spoke up and said, “It was because I was careless today that they noticed. Don’t blame it on them.”

Another figure stepped out of the shadows and Jason startled, standing up. “Wolf?” He blurted, and Bruce looked over to see Jazz walking to them, a black helmet over her head and wearing a bodysuit. She paused when she saw Jason, gave a small wave, and then sat down next to Dani, who cheered when she saw her.

“Jazz!” She said, tackling her in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Jazz laughed. “What are you talking about? We saw each other the other day, remember?”

The five spirits burst into excited chatter, since it was rare that they ever met up like this, all together at once. Usually, it was only a few one-on-one meetups and Bruce knew this, so he stayed silent as did his family, giving the spirits the space needed to chat while also allowing his family to observe. Jason looked moody, but didn’t say a word.

Out of nowhere, Dan dropped in from the air, dressed in a stained bartender’s uniform. He scowled at Bruce.

“Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere closer to Blüdhaven? I had to travel over the entirety of Gotham City just to get here!”

Bruce bowed his head in apology. “I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll make sure it’s closer.”

Dan scoffed. “You better,” he snapped, before he made a complete 180 and beamed at his sisters. “Jazz! Dani! You’re looking lovely today!”

Bruce’s family stared between him and the Blüdhaven city spirit.

“Are there… more?” Stephanie asked, after sneaking over to him while the tables of spirits chatted.

Bruce nodded and raised a finger for one.

Tim also slid over and said, “They don’t look like ghosts.”

Damian, having crept alongside Tim, muttered, “They don’t look important or powerful either. Father, what is going on?”

Alfred sighed. “Young masters, please sit down and stop standing around and whispering.”

They sat down. Tim and Steph shared a seat, both hanging on via a buttcheek as Damian had pushed Tim off of his. Bruce didn’t say a word, though he was inwardly exasperated and already regretting this entire meeting.

Dick was staring at Dan critically, while Jason was staring at Jazz with a frown. They obviously knew each other, but Bruce still didn’t know how. Cass was just looking between all of the spirits, looking slightly confused.

Finally, the last guest arrived. Footsteps sounded from nearby and Danny jogged over to them with an easy smile.

“Sorry, am I late?”

“Yes!” All of the spirits shouted, glaring at him.

Danny just grinned and then looked over at Bruce. “Hello. Finally showing us off?”

Bruce nodded. Then he stood up and said, “Everyone. Meet the city spirits of Gotham City and Blüdhaven.” He began to gesture to them as he gave introductions. “This is Dani, the spirit of the Batvehicles. She controls all of the Batvehicles in the cave. This is Tucker, the Batcomputer spirit. This is Sam, spirit of all plant life in Gotham City. This is Wes, spirit of Gotham City gargoyles. This is Valerie, the Arkham Asylum spirit.”

This earned several shocked looks and gasps. Valerie gave a polite nod with a hint of pride. Bruce moved on.

“And this is Jazz, the Crime Alley spirit.” Jason’s expression twitched. “This is Dan, the city spirit of Blüdhaven, and this is Danny, the city spirit of Gotham City.”

Danny smiled at them.

When he finished, there was a burst of noise and confusion. Bruce endured it all for a moment before he raised a hand, quieting everyone, and then said, “Let me explain.”

Bruce talked about how he noticed them in his first year of being Batman (he got a very strong glare from Alfred for keeping this from him), then how he met Dani and befriended all of the other spirits. He talked about how they helped him, how they accepted the Robins as protectors of the city alongside Batman, how they taught him and assisted him in vigilantism, and how they were fundamental in protecting him and the city.

He went on to explain what and who they were in more detail, and when he described Jazz and Danny, everyone stared in a mixture of disbelief and awe. When it was done, everyone just stared at him with bafflement on their faces.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. Alfred’s gaze was especially cutting.

“Wait… so… you’re saying that these all-powerful spirits look like… this?” Stephanie asked, clearly trying not to be rude as she gestured to them all.

Tucker snorted. “This isn’t our real form. It’s just our civilian one, so we can interact with you guys.”

Tim asked, “Could we see it? Your real forms?” He turned to look at Bruce questioningly, who just looked at Danny.

Danny shrugged with a smile and waved a hand in front of his face. In an instant, a veil slid over his head and back, inky black with twinkling stars lighting up the inside. He wore a formal vest and cape tie, with his coat shoulder robing him. His brooch shone brightly over his heart.

The air began to chill even further than the winter night.

Jazz took off her helmet and her red hair fell down in curly waves, her bodysuit exchanging for a dark fur coat and a long, blue dress with black gloves. Pearls circled her throat and wrists, dripping with blood. Her brooch flashed and Jason straightened his back at the sight of it.

Dan sighed and his bartender uniform melted away into a dark blue policeman uniform, formal and distinct. His skin turned translucently green and his hair bled white. His hat covered his eyes as he leaned back in his chair slowly. His brooch, cut in the shape of Nightwing’s symbol, was bright against his dark clothes.

Tucker waved his hands and his casual ware was exchanged for a high-tech suit that wasn’t dissimilar to Batman’s own appearance. However, there was no cape and the color was more gold and brown than black and gray. The white eyes were exchanged for a visor that flashed.

Sam brushed a hand against her skirt and her outfit turned into green and purple, something like what Poison Ivy would wear stretching and growing over her skin. Leafy clothes and flowery details covered her body until she could’ve blended into a garden perfectly. Flowers began to pop into existence beneath them all.

Wes shook his head and everything about him turned into granite. His clothes became formal, like a suit from the 1800s, and horns and wings began to grow from his head and back stiffly. He sat in his chair, unmoving and still.

Valerie flicked her hair behind her head and her yellow clothes began to bleed into white with red stains. She wore a uniform that looked like the combined versions of both a nurse and a doctor, with a cloth covering her mouth and red goggles over her eyes. Her curly hair seemed to have grown even messier.

Dani was the last to show off her form, and she spread her arms and her clothes transformed into that unique style she had developed not too long ago, something that looked like a cross between Batman and Robin. It was all black and gray, with yellow, green, and red accents. She had a bright yellow belt and a long cape that glimmered with holographic shapes.

“Ta da!” She cheered. “What do you all think?”

The air had become bone-freezing cold, frost appearing on Bruce’s eyelashes and his breath turning into white clouds. It was cold before, but now it was blood curdling. There was a pause where the spirits all looked at each other before they switched back in an instant, and the temperature flew up, warming them immediately.

Everyone sighed from the relief, and Bruce handed Alfred his cape, who sighed before taking it begrudgingly. Then in that moment, his kids stood up and approached the spirits as they immediately went to chat with one another, completely ignoring Bruce.

Dick ambushed Dan, who didn’t seem unhappy with him as he was immediately pulled into an animated conversation with him. Bruce recalled how Jazz and Dani talked about how much Dan liked his eldest son, so it was no surprise.

Dani was chatting with Stephanie and Cass, waving her arms exaggeratedly as she talked. Steph looked at her like she was the cutest thing on the planet, while Cass stared at her like she was an interesting, but endearing bug underneath a magnifying glass.

Damian and Tim were chatting with Valerie, Sam, and Wes in a serious conversation. They seemed to be debating something, with Damian and Valerie mostly doing the talking with Tim and Sam interjecting every once in awhile. Wes looked as though he was trying to instigate an argument, however, as everyone glared at him whenever he talked.

Jason had already pulled Jazz into a corner of the building, and they leaned against the wall and talked quietly, shoulders pressed together.

It looked… intimate.

Bruce almost wanted to march over there and pull them apart, but he barely held back when Danny and Tucker approached their table. Tucker immediately pulled Alfred into a conversation about the maintenance of the Batcomputer, mostly with the both of them complaining about how the kids were so messy around the keyboard.

Danny sat next to Bruce and said, “So why did you call us here?”

Bruce blinked, pulling his gaze away from his son and the spirit of Crime Alley. “What?”

“Why’d you call us here? You usually don’t summon us all at once.”

Bruce said, “Dani accidentally revealed herself to Tim and Dami. I thought it was high time that I introduced all of you.” Danny looked back at his siblings, all who were deep into their conversations.

Bruce followed his gaze, watching his kids have fun and make friends with the spirits.

He felt satisfied, looking at them. He wanted nothing more than for his children to be happy, safe, and protected. The spirits had helped him many times when he was still starting out as Batman, giving his advice and narrowly saving his life multiple times.

Now, hopefully, they would help his children too.

Bruce continued, “And it’s Christmas.”

Danny didn’t turn to look at him, only humming, “That’s true. It is the holiday season.”

“I got you and the rest of the spirits presents,” Bruce said, and Danny perked up.

“What?! Are you for real?!” Danny cried excitedly. “Can I see? Please? Now?”

Bruce laughed. He presented the gift to him, and when the other spirits took notice, they also approached, pulling away from their conversations. Jason and Jazz were the last to come over.

“Ooh, what is it?”

“Open it!”

“Do we also get one?”

Bruce passed out their gifts as his kids also crowded around and heckled them into opening it.

One by one, they all opened their gifts.

Dani received a bucket full of (human) treats and snacks, with a bottle of motor oil at the bottom. She cheered when she saw it and immediately opened a bag of gummies to share with everyone else.

Sam received several packs of the seeds of poisonous flowers and plants. She happily took it as the people around her took a wary step back away from her.

Tucker received a Bluetooth speaker. He declared that he would use it to annoy Bruce and Tim into sleeping whenever they stayed up too late, and everyone but Bruce and Tim cheered.

Wes received a high quality camera. Tim offered to help him use it efficiently, and he accepted, with both of them leaving the table to chat about it.

Valerie received a tube full of anesthesia. Like Sam, everyone took a step away from her as she hugged the capsule to herself.

Jazz received the bike that Bruce had asked Jason to bring. She jumped up and down and thanked him profusely and for some reason, Jason glared at him for it.

Dan received a photo album. He took a peek and then closed it tight, smiling to himself as he refused any questions asked. Bruce knew it was a photo album of the few times he was able to take pictures of the spirits, as well as an entire horde of Dick’s photos.

Danny received the deed to a new building built in Gotham City, an observatory tower for the stars. When he saw it, his face split into a beaming smile like a miniature sun and when the other spirits saw it, they also congratulated him, especially Dani who wanted to see it as well.

“It’s still being built,” Bruce explained, but Danny didn’t seem to care.

“Thank you so much!” He said happily, admiring the deed to the building in his hands.

Bruce felt various eyes from both spirits and humans on him. He didn’t mind. He smiled and enjoyed how much they all loved the gifts they got from him, gifts that they deserved. As all of the spirits admired their presents and chatted with his children, Alfred turned to him.

“If I recall correctly, I believe that you have mentioned them before. They must have been the friends you mentioned a long time ago, hm?”

Bruce nodded. “They’ve been with me since I first started.”

Alfred hummed. “They seem like good children.”

Bruce smiled and nodded again.

The hours passed and eventually, Sam and Valerie couldn’t handle the strain anymore. They disappeared back into their domains, signaling the end of the reunion. More and more spirits began to leave, with waning enthusiasm as their strength was being drained from being out too much. The car and laptop were left behind by Dani and Tucker when they disappeared. Only Jazz and Danny seemed relatively fine, as the rest began to leave back to their haunts. They still looked tired though, and Jazz politely excused herself.

“You’re leaving already?” Jason asked, as Jazz straddled her bike.

She nodded, her helmet covering her face once more.

“We’ll talk more later?” Jazz said, and Jason gave a firm nod.

“At 2. At the usual place.”

She nodded and left, fading into shadows.

Danny was the only one left. He held the deed in his hands and smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Bruce. You should go home now. Spend some time with your family. We appreciate the gifts you’ve given to us, champion, and do not worry, we will watch over the city and your family.”

Bruce gave a nod.

Danny reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. The weight of it was heavy and significant, but it also spread a warmth through Bruce’s body.

It was an extra blessing for the night.

Bruce gave him a minuscule dip of his head. Danny just smiled and like a cloud, dissipated.

Bruce released a small sigh of relief.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he had felt about his kids and the spirits meeting. He wanted the spirits to protect them. He wanted his kids to accept them. He was just… scared. For some reason.

But everything had gone well.

The spirits had always loved his children, and his kids were never probably not able to offend them. After all, they were also vigilantes of Gotham, and all of them risked their lives on the daily to help the city.

It was no shock that they got along like a house on fire.

The blessings of the spirits meant a lot.

His children would now have extra help by their side to keep them safe if he wasn’t able to.

It was Cass that spoke up and brought him out of his thoughts.

“B? Home now?”

Bruce nodded.

He felt… strangely full. Like eating a full meal. He felt satisfied and content.

He smiled, then. “Shall we go do some last minute Christmas shopping?”

Alfred sighed, as the kids cheered, enthusiastically agreeing since they now wanted to open their own gifts after watching the spirits. Bruce couldn’t help but laugh as Cass stuck by his side and Damian insisted on picking another fight with Tim with Jason instigating as always.

Bruce blinked and looked up as he felt something cold fall over his face.

Snowflakes drifted down, bright against the dark sky.

Alfred hummed. “It’s snowing. Master Bruce, shall we go back into the Batmobile?”

Bruce smiled.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

It was Christmas Eve. And with his family by his side and the blessings of the spirits, Bruce had nothing else to worry about for awhile.

“Wait, B! We’re not patrolling today?”

Bruce shook his head. The spirits had agreed to patrol for him, so he could spend the entire day with his family. They all looked surprisingly hopeful at him, even Jason.

Yes, it was a good day today.

Tomorrow would be even better.

“Nope. Today and tomorrow are days all to ourselves!”

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Merry Christmas (Eve)! I hope you guys enjoyed this fic. It’s scary how the year is already starting to end. Ty to @meditating-cat for betaing my fic for me!

Me: *writing a Bruce-sympathetic fic*

Me: Is this character development (for me)?

This fic is meant to be comical and fun, so I tried to breeze past the sad parts as best as I could.

At one point, Danny was acting too mature and this fic was starting to look like a Spirit Halloween ship fic, so I had to quickly change things up :,/

This fic is inspired by this idea specifically, but also about the Gotham City spirit Danny AU on my blog here. (Look at the tags for more).

Wolf is Jazz’s vigilante name and she is part of my assistant!Jazz AU.

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alex-in-wonder1nd · 1 day ago

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Such a beautiful and incredible art! **SPOILERS AHEAD**

Man, I’ll never forgive Whedon for that creepy, unnecessary episode in Buffy. If you know, you know. Like, can we all just agree to collectively erase it from existence? Even James (you know, Spike’s actor) couldn’t stand that scene. I get it’s a heavy topic and something that happens in real life, but it seriously felt like Whedon threw it in there just for shock value. It was so random and out of nowhere - it completely wrecked how I saw their relationship in an instant.

And here’s the thing: I actually like Spuffy. I know, weird, right? Sometimes I felt I was going bunkers. But their chemistry was insane, at first toxic but then sweet especially in the second half of the show when Spike had a soul and stepped up for Buffy. Like, he was literally there for her at the end of the world, even when her friends lost their minds and “ditched” her. Seriously, how do you just forget everything she did to save their lives? I understand they also helped several times but it is just stupid. She was out here fighting the apocalypse on the reg while all she wanted was to live a normal life. She didn’t have a chance. They could walk away at any time but she couldn’t, that’s what she felt. From the day the prophecy was given to the day she died she had no peace. Bloody hell, EVEN WHEN SHE DID DIE SHE WAS TAKEN OUT FROM HEAVEN.

So yeah, to keep enjoying Spuffy, I’ve decided that scene just doesn’t exist. Like, nope, didn’t happen. It’s the only way I can stomach their storyline. Ugh, just thinking about it gives me chills.

‘Til the end of the world — even if that happens to be tonight.’

Buffy and Spike knight au because I just really wanted to draw them in armour <3 I’m a bit nervous because it’s my first time posting my art on here but I’m trying to bite the bullet :) - (and post more of it in the future as well!)

(click on the image for higher res)

edit: thank you so so much for all the lovely comments and encouragement omg this is crazy <33

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evajzcks · 3 days ago

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shattering control ── tom riddle x reader

summary: tom gets in a fight for you for the first time and you help him clean his wounds

warnings: none? grumpy tom x sunshine reader

word count: idk but it is short

everything happened so fast. one moment, he was standing in the hallway, and the next, he was throwing punches at the guy who was trying to get your attention.

tom wasn’t an impulsive man. he never acted on impulse. everything he did was calculated, controlled, and with the intention of achieving something. but the moment he saw the discomfort on your face and the way the ravenclaw was grabbing your arm, he lost it.

“hey, I’m trying to talk to you,” you said when you noticed tom wasn’t listening to you.

“i’m listening,” tom muttered, still lost in his thoughts.

his hands were still shaking from adrenaline. when he closed his eyes, he could still see the red that blinded him the moment he lost control.

“you’re clearly not. otherwise, you would’ve sat on the bed already,” you said, rolling your eyes. “you’re just standing there like a creep.”

after tom finally came back to his senses, you brought him to your room and tried to clean his knuckles. but he just stood there, staring at his bloodied hands.

your relationship with tom wasn’t a secret to anyone. most of the time, the two of you were together after being paired up in defense against the dark arts class. it all started with silent study sessions in the library, both of you enjoying the other’s presence. then came lingering looks, followed by little touches here and there.

while you were energetic, bright, and talkative, tom was calm, controlled, and dark. yet somehow, your contrasting personalities seemed to complement each other perfectly.

“i was just thinking,” tom finally said after a moment, sitting on your bed and watching as you grabbed what looked like a first-aid kit.

“care to share your thoughts?” you asked, softly taking his hands and beginning to clean his wounds with care.

“i don’t know what happened to me,” he admitted quietly. the way you were tending to his hands, the fight, the blur in his head—it all felt too overwhelming.

tom hadn’t been raised with a family, nor had he ever cared about anyone but himself. that was, until you came into his life. now, the rage that consumed him when he saw the guy with you felt like it was tearing down the control he’d spent years mastering, along with the walls he’d built around his emotions.

“why don’t you use magic?” tom asked, watching you with a soft but puzzled expression. “it’s more efficient.”

“but it’s less caring,” you replied, kissing his hands gently. “and clearly, you feel something very strong for me, considering you just got into your first fight over a girl and almost killed a classmate.”

“if i acted with control, i probably would’ve done worse,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he noticed the smile tugging at your lips.

“oh yes, you would’ve hexed him!”

“worse…” he murmured, disgusted with his actions. if he’d waited, he might have ended up tossing a body into the black lake by now.

“he was bothering me, but you know you can’t just kill everyone, right?” you teased, starting to clean the small bruise on his lip. “i’ll kiss it better.”

“you’re mine, and people should know that,” tom said, pretending to be annoyed by the care you were giving him. “you’ve grown too soft.”

“and you’re grumpy,” you replied, placing a soft kiss on his lips and smiling slightly. “also, you can’t say I’m yours when you won’t even let me call you boyfriend.”

“don’t play with that, Y/N,” he said, gripping your hips firmly as he pulled you into his lap, his earlier worries long forgotten. “that term is too mundane. you know we’re past that.”

a/n: this is my first fanfic here on tumblr so let me know if you liked!!!!!!!! i might do a part two but this time longer 😞

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a-confused-spoon · 2 days ago

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...y'know, it's not just the fact that Caitlyn knows Viktor, but the fact that this Caitlyn met this Viktor

I know I already talked about this, but like- HELLO??!

Mind you, Caitlyn isn't just a little sister to Jayce, her parents are also Jayce's patrons and her mother works with Heimerdinger (who Viktor used to work for) on the Council- the Council that basically dictated what kind of use hextech was going to serve in Piltover for however long the timeskip was (as said by Jayce in 1x04), so there's no way these two didn't have at least a couple interactions once Viktor becomes Jayce's partner.

Tell you what, I think these two vibed pretty well too.

First thing first, I just know Caitlyn treated the idea of meeting Viktor the exact same way a younger sibling wants to meet their older sibling's crush; "yeah I need to meet this so-deemed super cool person so I can shit-talk about you to them 'cause it's fun, but also what makes them so special to you and/or so stupid they'd want to spend time with you, allegedly?" type of deal. And there's more to this too 'cause- no wait, I really need to stress this point:

I think it's safe to assume Caitlyn didn't have many friends growing up, if any at all, and Jayce (who's what, twice her age?) is seemingly the only person she shared a bond with where she didn't have to pretend to be someone she didn't feel she was, which only became more and more a thing as time went by.

And everything is fine until the events of 1x02: there's an explosion, Jayce is put away, there's a trial and all of the sudden she's lost her big brother under no explanation other than "he's a misfit and you can't be friends with him anymore", and as far as she knows, Jayce will no longer be in her life and will likely give up all his hard work. She lost her best friend and he lost his purpose in life, all in the span of a single day.

...and then, the very next day, everything seems to be fine again? There's a Council meeting, she's allowed to be cool with Jayce again and when she asks what the fuck happened to this man he opens with "So there's this guy...".

I can only imagine little Caitlyn's thoughts whilst she was processing all the new info: "Okay so you're telling me there's a guy with a funny accent, Piltover's most important person's ex assistant, who I nor anyone's ever heard of nor seen for some forsaken reason, who you met literally last night and he sweet talked you into not giving up because it didn't work when I tried- rude but okay- and then he convinced you to commit a crime to help you complete the research my parents funded? When you were already at risk of exile? And that research was super personal to you specifically, but now it's a you guys' thing? And he's from the- WAIT, HE'S FROM THE UNDERCITY?!!"

'Cause Caitlyn was curious about the undercity as a kid too, innocently so; you're telling her she has the opportunity to talk with someone who didn't just go there, but used to live there? Someone who managed to get where he is with nothing other than the sheer power of will?!

Meeting this Viktor guy is no longer just a little "I wish", it becomes a fucking mission.

...meanwhile Viktor's barely aware the Kirammans have a daughter to begin with.

I mean- he does know, but just because Jayce mentioned her a couple times, perhaps forgetting to mention her being a 14 year-old.

Not that Viktor would give a shit either way, he isn't really fond of anyone in Piltover (aside from Jayce, Heimerdinger and Sky) and the likely spoiled heir of an ultra-rich family is no exception to this, regardless of age. However, she is close to Jayce, and her extremely important family is funding what is also his research now, so he's like "whatever, I guess I'll be as cordial as I can with this miss Caitlyn if I ever meet her".

Which happened, at a certain point in time.

I think Viktor was pleasantly surprised to find out that this good hearted and fairly smart girl was also very curious to know more about the undercity- perhaps he's taken a little aback at first; she is a councilor's daughter and he has to pay attention to what he says around her after all. But at the same time, she is a councilor's daughter and if she's so well intended then why not answer truthfully to her questions when she could, one day, help through her family's influence?

And on the other side, little Caitlyn absolutely adores Viktor, and not just because he's witty and has a funny accent, but because Viktor talks to her like she's an adult.

Cait isn't really used to this sort of treatment, but of course Viktor doesn't address her like a clueless child that needs protection from the real word: that's a privilege the kids in Zaun aren't really given, and they are no less important than her. Besides, what's the harm?

It's also great because whenever the Kirammans organize a ceremony of sorts to celebrate some new hextech achievement as Jayce's patrons, Caitlyn and Viktor would manage to chat separately from the rest of the obnoxiously rich guests, so she doesn't have to feel out of place or babied and he doesn't have to be at the centre of attention as Jayce's partner. Viktor would also get a healthy dose of rich people gossip through little Cait's unintentional open disdain for the environment her parents keep her in, and the only reason why Caitlyn allows herself to lower her guard when talking about it is because she knows damn well that Viktor both probably agrees and has no intention nor reason to tell anyone. If anything, he just comments sarcastically to most stories, and she's happy she can share them with someone who won't say "now now, don't say that about so and so".

And of course, whenever Caitlyn comes to visit them in the lab (not a very common occurrence since the 1x01 accident), Jayce is just happy to see them getting along... whenever Caitlyn isn't whispering something to Viktor while they both look at him, at least.

#oh if only arcane had the time for filler episodes #arcane #caitlyn kiramman #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayvik #arcane league of legends #caitlyn and jayce #headcanon #some wholesome stuff to distract myself from how upset s2 made me

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catthestampede · 2 days ago

Text

Danny Phantom is a red lantern oh no

Danny’s angry really really angry

About as angry as a dead teenager can get

Danny’s been slowly getting angrier over the last two years since the first time he called the justice league for help and he was told to stop making up stories

or stop freaking calling us kid

Or prank calls aren’t funny

or literally anything that they could come up with as long as it was not the truth

Because clearly Danny from Amany Park is a liar.

Because ghost aren’t real let’s not think about the justice league dark that exist but there’s no hotline to them

Danny just had to keep trying with the normal justice league he was stupid after the fourth time he should’ve just given up but he kept trying for over six months

And then his number is blocked

And that was the day Danny lost any and all faith that anyone would ever come to help

The next week Dan attacked

Two months after that Pariah Dark attacked

Two months after that most of his town was killed and destroyed

Two days after that he finally finds Tucker‘s body

Two days after that he’s breaking into a g I w base to get some of the people back and he finds Sam’s corpse

Approximately 40 minutes later he finds Ellie getting experimented on by his parents

No Dr. Fentons experimenting on his little sister daughter cousin

Approximately 14 minutes later the GIW base blew up

Approximately three days later Ellie was OK she looked to be about six months old and that’s a generous giving.

Jazz was also OK somehow she’s still very injured but nothing life-threatening

That was also the day Danny realize he had a ring on his finger

(A year and a half later )

Denny’s created free distinctive Lee different identities

Is Danny Nightingale A tragic orphan who managed to get his grades up after he lost everything but his sister and his daughter

Danny Phantom The ghost king fair is a calm kind of humans and would never heard any of them currently negotiating with the government for peace

And dawn The red lantern Who has a great deal against three things

The GIW and any and all sympathizers

Vlad Masters

And the justice league

He separated those free identities to the best of his capabilities with the help of all of his resources

Now with the GIW on their last leg and Ellie said to start preschool soon

And Vlad was taken care of relatively fast lift the object of his obsession being gone he was so weak

So if all that taken care of there’s only one thing left

Crush the justice league one step at a time

And who knows what he’ll do after that maybe he’ll try to figure out how to ruin Christmas forever or something equally villainess because that seems to be the path is going down (:

Whatever he’ll figure it out when it comes time

#Danny Phantom #DPXDC #Danny’s red lantern #Bad Fenton parents #Ellie‘s baby

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genericvader · 2 days ago

Text

This is really interesting and I wish I knew about it sooner but the large scare ramifications here are blown a little out of proportion. The conquest of Rome and the completion of the Risorgimento had a lot more to do with other geopolitical events. For one, Napoleon had been talking with Garibaldi and the Count of Cavour (Prime Minister of Sardinia-Piedmont) for a while and was sympathetic to Italian nationalists, but he valued his image as defender or Catholicism more, at least for a while. By 1859 though, Napoleon had realized a unified Italy would be a much more useful and reliable ally than an independent Papal State and the now eternally imploding Austrian empire, so he backed Italy against Austria. Once they won, Sardinia-Piedmont occupied most of central Italy because the territories had experienced various revolutions, and Napoleon just… didn’t feel like putting them down. Not that it mattered much in the end though, because Prussia had been going around kicking various ass and taking a variety of names to unify Germany, and France was next on their shit-list. France had to recall their garrison from Rome to defend themselves (they lost anyway) and France really wasn’t in a position to object when Italy swooped in.

The point is, op makes it seem like this one event was *the* cause of the Risorgimento, but it wasn’t. There were a million other things going on that also contribute. It was happening with or without the Pope being an asshole. It might’ve happened differently, but it would have happened.

This isn’t some weird anti-Jewish thing, my girlfriend is very openly and proudly Jewish and I love her so much. This is about people thinking there are lynchpin events upon which a bunch of other stuff relies. History is not a straight line. It’s a giant confusing web, where everything that happens is influenced by a million other things, and it then influences a million more things in some way. I can trace 9/11 back to the American Revolution in at least two different ways just off the top of my head.

It’s fun to learn about historical events and how they fit into the grand web, what it’s *a* reason for, bur nothing is ever *the* reason.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

Love seeing something from TikTok and going “girlie that is literally what led to the downfall of the Papal States”

#history #italy #risorgimento #napoleon bonaparte #cavour #Oh God have mercy I spent way longer than I intended on this #it was fun though #again no ill will toward anyone #this is just a perspective I see a lot and it infuriates me to no end

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luveline · 3 days ago

Note

this request may be a bit of a long shot, but would you be willing to write a drabble for mouth of september? maybe she gives the boys a scare either by going out and then not coming home at the time she said she would or maybe she faints from not having eaten enough? totally okay if you don’t want to or if you want to use this as a prompt for something else, mos has just been one of your fic series that i think about pretty consistently even two-ish years later.

anyway have a great day and hope you’re doing well jadey <3 love u

I love you! me writing this actually did feel like a longshot but not cos I didn’t love it and not cos I don’t love u, I hope you enjoy it!! been so long since I wrote this !!🩵 fem! 4k words

cw suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation

It’s cold tonight.

You blow on your fingers, feeling them warm, stiffness lanced for precious few seconds. You didn’t mean to walk so far from the house, not while the wind is racing like this. The corner shop just seemed to move around while you weren’t looking. You should’ve asked Sirius to go with you, he has a better sense of direction, even if he would’ve complained the whole time about the shit weather.

Remus would’ve come and not complained, but he was sleeping at the time and waking him felt cruel. James would’ve come, racing around in Lily’s car, but then he would’ve followed you back into the house insisting on making you some supper or a cuppa or something, and what you’d wanted was to be alone. A bar of chocolate wouldn’t hurt either.

Stupid travelling corner shop, you think to yourself. Stupid me for fucking losing it. Should’ve just stayed home. Can’t even walk to the shop.

You take a deep breath. You give the streets a wretched, embarrassed glare and flop down onto the nearest bench. Fuck’s sake. Lost and freezing to death.

If Sirius were here, if he heard what you were thinking, he’d frown at you with that dark pinch to his eyes and tell you to Stop it, now.

He’s maybe half of the reason you’re out of the house tonight. Maybe all of it. It’s all complicated and horrible and everyone thinks it’s a bad idea but the thing is that Sirius himself isn’t complicated, he isn’t horrible. He’s kind to you in funny ways, and when you’re together Sirius makes you feel like you’re someone worth being kind too, which doesn’t happen often.

Your self annoyance fades to something more familiar soon enough. Everything goes quiet, leaving you there with your heart, quick and slow beating, can’t seem to choose, and your cold feet. Your socks feel too tight.

Your teeth start to chatter. You can’t sit here forever.

(But wouldn’t it be better? If you stayed? Caught cold?)

If you get poorly from the cold, you’ll feel miserable from the moment you wake up. You’ll be ill at work, which will make work worse. You’ll have to stay in your room so you don’t get one of the boys sick, and that really would ruin your week. Nothing means anything if you don’t get to see your best friends.

You gather yourself up and turn toward the street you’d just walked down, determined to retrace your steps.

In the distance, a familiar shape is jogging toward you.

“Y/N?” James shouts, sounding as though all the breath in the world has been sucked from his lungs. He doesn’t stop jogging until he gets a few feet from you, where he bends to catch his breath. “Fucking hell!” His head snaps up. “Fuck, shortcake, are you alright?”

You close the distance. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” He forces himself to stand, breathing hard as he grabs you by the wrist. “Are you okay? You scared me so badly.”

You grab his arm back. “I’m really fine, I’m fine, what’s wrong?”

“You’re what’s wrong, you aren’t home!” James swallows a lump. “You left a note, you’d be home by seven. It’s nearly ten. Remus rang me in a fit ‘cos he didn’t know where you’d gone, we thought–” James gives you an imploring look, though it’s so so sorry at the same time, you feel your stomach twist into a hard knot. “We thought you were having a bad night.”

“James.” Embarrassment makes you soft-toned. “I’m really sorry I scared you, but I got lost, that’s all.” You don’t really like to lie, only James seems to need to hear it. “I’m glad you found me. I was worried I wouldn’t get home.”

James gives a breathy laugh. “Oh, good.”

You’re pulled into a hug.

“Sorry,” you say.

“No, it’s okay.” He rubs your back with force. It feels more for him than you, though you don’t exactly mind it. You can pretend as much as you want that you don’t like it when the boys give you affection, but they know it’s not true, and they know it’s alright to give it to you most days. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine as long as you’re fine.”

“Fine,” you say.

He pulls away. “Oh, god. Alright, let’s go back to the house. It’s freezing, you’re not wearing a proper coat?”

“I didn’t plan on being out long.”

“No?”

He takes you by the shoulder to encourage you back the way you came. “Just wanted some chocolate,” you say.

“I’ll get you some.”

You both know it doesn’t add up. James doesn’t make you say much else, relieved you’re alright, and you fester in the guilt of worrying him so harshly.

“Where are your glasses?” you ask.

“I forgot them in the car.”

“Where is the car?”

“Remus thought you might’ve gone to the library, you were supposed to take that Sky-Fi back.”

“Sci-fi.”

“Right, the space books. He took it to see if you were walking home, I said I’d come this way, and Sirius…” James grimaces. “Not sure where he went. He was already out by the time I got to the house.”

“How are we gonna find him?”

“He’ll come back eventually.”

You stick close to James’ side, dodging crisped up leaves and following him down the dropped kerb and finally onto a familiar road. “Guess I’ve lived here so long, I should’ve known the way,” you say.

“It’s alright.”

You bite your cheek for a second. “I’m really sorry, James, I– I didn’t– is it really ten?”

“…Aren’t you cold?” he asks softly.

“I didn’t think about it.”

“I wish you would.” He pokes his tongue against his cheek. “I want to know if you’re having a bad night. It’s alright if you were. If you need more time, more help, it’s okay.”

“It’s not like that… not all of it. I was walking to the shops, I swear. Just feel so,” —your voice slips into a colour of shame you despise— “weird sometimes. I’m sorry I made you worry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.”

“Is this a common occurrence?”

“Not the walk, just. Just this. Making you worry. I didn’t mean to make everybody worry.”

“Well, I am worried. When you disappear for a couple more hours than you say you will, it’s scary.” James gives you a shrug. “I love you, I’m gonna wonder where you are.”

“But–”

“I worry about Sirius when he goes to the pub until who knows when, worry about Lils when she does too many hours at work. I worry about Remus every day, his eyes are worse than mine ‘cos all he does is read,” he says with a laugh. “It’s fine.”

“I worry about you too,” you say.

“About what?” he asks, stricken.

“Remus told me you can pop your knee out from your kneecap when you weight lift. I know you think it’s fun and stuff, but that’s scary.”

“I’m getting fit!” He rolls his eyes. “Lily likes my abs.”

“Well I liked you when you were soft.”

James cackles at your poor fake-flirting. “I’ve never been soft, take that back! You know being captain made me solid as a rock.”

“James?” a voice calls.

You look up at the same time. Sirius is sitting on the wall in front of the house smoking; he takes a harsh, quick drag and stabs it out so hard that ash sullies his fingers as he stands.

“Oh,” he says, blowing the smoke from his mouth quickly, his breath a ragged thing as he bounds across the road to hug you. “Sorry.”

You don’t get what he’s sorry for. “It’s okay.”

He smells so strongly of smoke it’s like he’s blowing it under your nose, but he’s not so sharp to the touch. You falter at being touched kindly, feeling tension in his back as you curl an arm around him.

Sirius digs his face into your neck.

“Hey?” you ask quietly.

He steps back suddenly, an accusing fist held between your two abdomens. “Where have you been?” he asks, and there’s the sharpness to match his smell, scowl turning his grey-blue eyes to pitch, lashes in a furious tangle. “You can’t do that. You can’t just disappear for hours.”

“I’m sorry–”

“It’s not okay.”

“She said she’s sorry,” James interjects, “maybe let’s leave it?”

“Being sorry doesn’t erase the last two hours of us panicking, though, does it?”

“She got lost–”

“James, it’s okay, it’s–” You shake your head. “Maybe you should go inside to warm up? You’re not wearing a coat either.”

“I was in a rush.” James gives Sirius a warning look. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. Five minutes and I’m coming back out.”

James trudges up the garden path to the house. You twist your hands together, staring into Sirius’ face, wanting to see every bit of his anger, keeping tabs on all of it so as not to be surprised. You should’ve known he’d run out of patience with you eventually. He’s had to deal with your awful moods more than anyone else.

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you realise how scary it is to worry you’ve hurt yourself?” Sirius asks starkly.

You flinch. “It doesn’t exactly feel great for me, either.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Still, he softens. You feel like you’ve cheated. “I don’t understand. You got lost? How far away from the house were you?”

“I don’t know, I was trying to go to Del’s.”

“You’re not being honest with me, or any of us. It’s not fair. My heart is like a fucking racehorse,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest, fingertips smudgy with ash, “’cos all I’ve thought tonight is that you’d gone off and jumped off of a bridge or something. I know you wouldn’t.” He lets his hand fall. He quietens. It is almost apologetic, how he slows. “I know you wouldn’t. I knew you’d come home. But please don’t make me think about it.”

He’s gone pale in the cold, his hair in twists and tucked haphazard behind his ears. In his thick bomber jacket and his jeans, he could’ve just hopped of the bike, windswept as he is, but it’s the mark of worried hands having pushed his hair back repetitively rather than the weather, though the longer you stand there in the wind, the more tangled it becomes. “I dont get why you’re so determined to be alone,” he says.

You don’t want to talk about it. When do you ever? More than ever, you’d like to stalk past him and slam your bedroom door, let him know you’re fine by yourself and seething, let him stay ignorant to you as you squirm in a bed you’ve come to hate. How often do you lay there wishing you could be alone forever? It’s not fair to anyone. It doesn’t make sense. They all love you and you feel sorry for them, ‘cos you tricked them, ‘cos you’re nothing worth thinking about for long.

Sirius won’t stop frowning at you. It makes the drowning feeling worse.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, hoping this time it’ll stick. “I don’t know what happened, I just wasn’t thinking. I don’t feel very well.”

“I know.” He scoffs to himself. You relax at the hint of self-deprecation. “It’s not your fault. I’m fucking furious with you but I know you can’t help it.”

“Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. For saying you’d jumped off a bridge, that’s horrible, but you really fucking worry me sometimes and I’m so relieved that you’re okay that it’s making me horrible.”

“You’re not horrible.”

“I’m mean.”

“You’re not.”

“No, I am. You’re the only person who doesn’t see it. Or at least doesn’t say it.” Sirius rubs his face, scraping a stray hair from his nose. “Sorry for shouting. Here,” —he holds out his arm— “let’s have a proper one.”

He hugs you nicely, no force to it, less lingering smoke. The scratch of his cheek catches yours, his hand at the bottom of your back, your jacket and shirt rising with every sweep of his touch. You press your closed eye to his hair.

“Why didn’t you come and sit with me or– we could’ve talked. Could’ve just led in bed, doesn’t matter, I would’ve gone to the shop with you.” He squeezes you, pressing his nose to your shoulder. “I can be morbid. We can be two miserable layabouts together.”

“I didn’t…” You cringe. “Sirius, it��s not on purpose, I swear. I didn’t do it to make you worry.”

“I know that, Jesus.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re home.”

You pull apart as a car turns onto the street. That’ll be Remus. Another for your troupe of worry.

“What do you think, is he mad at me too?” you ask.

“Remus?” Sirius gives you another half hug. “‘Course not.”

And true to form, Remus climbs out of the car with a fond smile. “Hey, where have you been?” His hair ruffles in the wind, scars turned palest purple in the cold. “You need to learn how to tell time.”

You let him hug you. “Sorry.”

“That’s alright, let’s go inside though. Have some tea. Did you eat much today?”

You ignore the question. “Tea,” you say.

“Yeah.”

Remus ushers you down the path to the house, Sirius on your other side like bodyguards.

“Thanks for, uh, looking for me.”

Remus takes you by the forearm. “We’ll always look for you. But next time, wake me up first.”

You nod gratefully. “Uh, okay. Thank you.”

“Stop saying thanks. It’s alright, Y/N. It’s fine.”

That’s what you’ve all said, but it doesn’t make it true.

—

James goes home, though he doesn’t want to. “I can stay,” he says over the rim of his mug, half-pleading, wanting you to ask him to. “We can have a sleepover.”

You insist that you’re really fine, he has work tomorrow, it’s late. When he doesn’t move, you say, “I feel bad enough that you were out looking for me in the cold.”

Your voice is pathetic and scratchy and he can tell you’re going to cry, they all can, so he doesn’t push it anymore than that. He goes home, and you go to bed, and Remus follows you up a little bit later with a glass of juice and some thick, buttered slices of teacake.

“You okay?” he asks, climbing into bed next to you where you’re laying down.

“Fine.”

“Didn’t eat much today?”

“No.”

“Have the juice, at least.”

You take the glass.

Between your sorry sips, Remus picks at one of the slices of cake, steals looks at you, though he doesn’t try to hide what he’s doing.

“Sorry about today. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You can stop saying sorry.” Remus lets his head tip from one side to another. “I can hear it in your voice that you don’t want to say it. Not that I don’t believe that you’re really, actually sorry. But you keep repeating it because you’re worried I want you to do that, and I don’t.”

“It’s what I should say.”

“Well, you’ve said it.” Remus turns to you, all bookish and rakish at once, lovely but tired, and he must be giving you a similar appraisal. “I wanted to be your friend the second I first talked to you. It wasn’t guilt.” He shakes his head. Wasn’t ’cos they’d played that prank on you with the shoe-eating goo, spied on you crying in a school hallway, overwhelmed. “I just liked you, and that was without any sort of knowledge of what you’re like. Now that I know you, I couldn’t be rid of you. Truly. I love you, you know that?” He smiles gently. “Even when you need time and you disappear. Please… don’t really go anywhere though, will you?”

“I won’t.” You decided a long time ago that ending your life wasn’t in the cards. There are terrifying moments, numb ones, blink-and-it’s over ones, where you feel like it’s the only option you have. But it ends eventually, or it sinks into a background to be forgotten until the next time it aches.

“Are you eating properly?” he asks.

“Remus–” You shake your head as he brings a hand to your forehead, like he might stroke your hair. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You don’t like answering, that’s all.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I’ve made you talk much more than you would’ve liked to, tonight.”

“I like talking to you. To all of you.” You rest your head on his thigh. “You really are my favourite people in the world, Remus. I wouldn’t… wouldn't give you up.”

“Good,” he says, stroking your forehead just a few times. “‘Cos we can’t be without you.”

Sirius finds you collapsing in on one another a little later and rounds the bed to lay on your other side. He doesn’t bother sitting as Remus did, pulling the blankets up and slipping in beside you without worrying about what parts of you are touching parts of him, nor the slip of your back where your shirt’s riding up, nor how warm it is under the quilt. He grabs the end of your t-shirt and pulls it flat over your stomach, before his hand spreads out there, and you realise half-heartedly that he’s hugging you from behind. The room is barely seeable. Remus is nearly sleeping. Your tea cake went uneaten, left stodgy and dark on the nightstand.

“This okay?” Sirius asks.

“Yeah.”

He burrows nearer, rubbing his nose against the back of your neck, then taking a long breath of you.

“Are you mad?” you ask.

“Not anymore.”

You can’t believe that any of them could love you so much as to look for you. That James would want to stay the night, and that he’d let you turn him away. If you had any energy left in you tonight you would’ve done the same to Remus, and then Sirius. James won’t be happy when he finds out they’d slept in the bed with you and left him out, but he’ll forgive it eventually. None of them should care so much about you, what’s special about you? What’s even really good? What’s worth it?

Sirius breathes behind you. He doesn’t seem scared to touch you, not worried to lay as close to you as your bodies will allow. His heat sinks into you.

“Know any poems?” he asks, letting you shift into his back as he pushes an arm beneath you, curling, really holding you to him, a spoon of a hug.

“What kind did you want to hear?”

Sirius doesn’t answer. You hold still as his hand begins looping over your stomach.

“I can’t remember anything right.”

“Can you guess at one for me?” he asks.

You stare at Remus’ falling chest. You’re lucky to have good friends.

“I read one a few days ago, a couple of times, it was only a few lines.” You wait. Sirius doesn’t say anything, so you start to relay the poem slowly, stringing the words together as they come. “The world was a… nautilus shell... And the world was a grain of sand.” Your voice is odd, but the lines come to you regardless. “The world was a honeycomb… And the world was a strip of tender bark.”

Sirius lets his lips warm your neck, asking softly, more touch than sound, “That was the whole poem?”

You take his hand where it’s against you. “That’s it.”

He nods.

The world was a nautilus shell. And the world was a grain of sand. The world was a honeycomb. And the world was a strip of tender bark. You run through the poem again, three times, tripping over strip and tender and bark as Sirius’ breath warms your nape.

“Please don’t do that again,” he says.

“I didn’t mean to–” You force yourself to stay still. “I would never do something like that to scare you.”

“Nobody in this room or out of it believes that you went on your walk tonight to scare them.” His nose tips down your neck. His hand spreads wider over your stomach. It feels so weird, so warm and rigid. It’s the best touch you’ve ever been given, and it doesn’t matter because you’re so ashamed of yourself —you went on your stupid little walk with at least some bad intent, and your friends noticed because they love you when they shouldn’t bother. This is a stain now, something you’ll remember. “But I can’t take it. Do you get that? I can’t take it. James found you two hours ago and I still feel like I don’t know where you are.”

“Didn’t mean to.”

“I know, love.” He actually does kiss your neck then, quiet smack of a real kiss. “I know. I know.” His forehead presses to your shoulder as he settles in. “You’re okay. I’m not mad.”

“Me neither,” Remus croaks.

You let yourself relax enough to feel tired. Warmth from either side of you threatens to bowl you over.

“How are you feeling now?” Sirius asks.

“Fine.” Always fine. They deserve better honesty. “I didn’t want to hurt myself. Jus’… I needed to move, like, go, and I hate this part. I don’t think it should matter that I’m not– that I don’t feel well.”

“Don’t get upset,” Sirius says quietly.

“I’m not.” You sound tight. “When I want to be somewhere, it doesn’t make sense that it matters. In the moment, I don’t remember that you…”

“Love you?” Sirius asks.

“I know why you were worried, I promise. I don’t live in a bubble. I know I’m selfish.”

“Not selfish.”

“It was, though.”

“You’re thinking about it like we have a problem with what you did, and it’s my fault because I got so mad, but it’s not really that you did it.” His hand curls shy of your breastbone. “I was mad, but– darling,” —you squeeze your eyes shut— “you’re not on trial. You don’t have to prove your way out of this, all we need to know is if you’re alright now.”

“Not really.”

Remus gives a half-sleeping mumble.

Sirius sits up in bed to look at both of you. “We love you. We,” —he gestures between you and Remus emphatically— “aren’t going to stop. No matter how many walks you go on, how many scares you give me.” He frowns at you sympathetically. “We’re not getting any further, are we?”

“Sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” He grimaces, dark around the eyes. “I’m a right prick and I’ve made a right mess of everything.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, chancing a touch, terrified you’ll be reprimanded for it but knowing, as you know he loves you, that you’re allowed. The tips of your fingers touch his collarbone. Sharp thing.

He pulls a jib, lips all up and thinned like a smirk gone wrong. “Love you.”

You must’ve petrified him. He’s never so open with his feelings, even when it’s half-joking like this.

“I love you, too.”

He makes another face. Good enough, it says.

“Make me hot chocolate?” you whisper.

“Mm, come on.” He pulls you from the bed by your wrists. “Don’t complain when it’s gritty. I’m not skilled as Remus.”

“Quite right,” Remus mumbles.

You hug him quickly before you leave.

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