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fatuismooches · 6 months ago

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Sobbing rn I just got hit with the cutest hurt/comfort idea for fragile!reader and Dottore

(The hurt in this instance is just fragile!reader's self deprecating inner monologue 😭)

What if reader was the sort who fussed over their appearance a lot? In the Akademiya they wouldn't be caught dead with dark circles under their eyes or having their hair messy.

Even if they did pull all nighters for a project, they always found time to put just a little bit of make-up on to lighten up their eyebags, and always had a simple yet neat hairstyle in mind in times they're in a rush.

They might be perishing from all the studies and assignments but they're going to look good doing it!

This made Reader and Zandik an even odder pair in the Akademiya. Reader who is always neat and in style, versus Zandik who just spent the whole night taking apart a ruin guard somewhere in Avidya Forest until the sun rose and he showed up as is.

That was one of the features Zandik found 'annoying' about Reader before they got together. Like - ugh they're so bubbly and energetic! They're running around everywhere and they're so chatty! Them with their— nice hair! And— pretty eyes, and those robes that actually fit them as if they were tailored! How pretentious of them— (he was down bad. Bro was coping with anger to bat away the feels)

But of course, that was all in the past. In the present, Reader can't take care of their appearance anymore. They couldn't even pick up a hairbrush, their joints ached horribly, they don't have the strength to hold something so light, they don't have the energy to do the basic care of untangling the strands of hair either.

They can't stand looking at their own reflection. That sense of 'wrongness' they couldn't fix, what they couldn't hide. How desperately they wanted to put just a little bit of blush at least, to give their skin some life with how sickeningly pale it was, no longer warm and saturated as it used to be.

They can't look at their eyes either. The greying, sagging bags beneath their lids was a taunt. No amount of sleep would get rid of them.

They can't wear outfits that were too elaborate. Their temperature fluctuated too much, a deathly cold beneath their skin, then a sudden spike in heat as if they were being scorched by the desert sun. They have to wear basic garments, comfortable without hindering layers to slow down their daily check-ups.

Reader is thankful for the segments caring for them, they really are. A segment brushing their hair while talking to them is a highlight of their day.

But... it wasn't the same.

Of course it wouldn't be, the segments were carers, nor stylists.

Still, the fact that they had no control over their appearance and presentation had their mental state withering.

Dottore noticed this. How withdrawn his dear had become. They had their days of silence, yes... but this was more sombre than usual.

He concludes that their illness was flaring up again, and that they were masking their pain instead of consulting with him. He comes to their room of course, his current duties be damned (not that he could've been productive even if he had wanted to, the Segments were restless and shrinking away from their tasks, their darling's current disposition bothered them.)

Opening the door slightly to enter, he sees them blankly staring at their reflection, prodding a finger on their prominent eyebags, rubbing their cheek to see if it would redden.

Ah... how could he had forgotten that. They were once very particular of how they looked. He should have known this possibility, witnessing their own sickly reflection would be distressing...

[The Crow visits a certain Dove. Despite how stiff and vague the Doctor had been with his words, the Damsalette only tittered in understanding, and imparted the knowledge he was seeking.]

The next day, Reader is sat on their vanity, waiting for a Segment to tend to them (always with a little bit of struggle to walk in the morning, but it's the least they could do to be less of an inconvenience already.)

The minutes tick by... he's late. Did something happen?

More time goes by, and they become more worried. They were about to get up and search before the door creaks open.

Zandik...? And he's carrying a... why does he have a bag?

They have plenty of questions. Why the late arrival? What was in the bag? Why was Zandik himself here?

Before they could ask all of this, however, he sets the small bag down on the vanity. He riffles through it... are those make-up brushes?

Wait, make-up?

The next half-hour was spent in stunned silence for Reader's part, Zandik was silent as well out of careful concentration. Gently applying everything, his touch on the brush strokes and blending soft... applying gloss on their lips.

Once Zandik moves on to their hair, they finally catch a glimpse of their reflection. Their cheeks were rosey, the dark circles under their eyes concealed, their lips no longer appearing dry, and instead plump and shimmering.

Oh.

... they almost looked like the way they were before their illness.

Almost.

But it was enough.

(Reader tries so hard not to cry. Fighting back tears, not wanting to ruin the make-up Zandik so diligently applied. Once Zandik was finished with their hair... they may have hiccuped a little bit.)

They may no longer have that upbeat energy they once boasted... but it was comforting to see their old reflection once again. It had been far too long.

You know, I really love this ask because my whole life I've pretty much never used make-up even though I want to so having Dottie do it for me heals me a bit. Also, I'm not very knowledgeable on it so apologies if anything is wrong. Okay, I'm done. 🤏

In all honesty, Dottore was never one to care much for outward looks but he has to admit that you still always manage to look good despite all of the work from school plus all of the work you help with for his experiments, plus... literally everything life throws at you. Yet you still bounce back like it was nothing. The scholar still had not discovered your secret to this yet despite observing you for so long, which furthered his interest in you even though he didn't admit it.

Zandik did maintain his appearance, to an extent of course as he didn't go out of his way to look great, but nothing compared to the effort you put in. So while he did look presentable most of the time, there have been quite a few times you made him late to class because there was no way you were going to let him out looking like that. You don't regret it, even when you get weird looks from the other students. Being 'odd' with your equally as odd lover was nothing to worry about, in your humble opinion.

Although Zandik couldn't hope to understand your strange nature, always mumbling under his breath about you while you laughed at his comments, he also couldn't help but enjoy being around you. You kept him on his toes (your words, not his.)

Unfortunately, this nature and style of yours gradually dissipated into nothing when your illness struck. At first, you refused to accept it, pushing yourself to do what you usually did but soon enough you realized that it simply wasn't going to work out. You had all these tools and resources and options in front of you but you couldn't use them anymore. The self-consciousness only grew more and more each day as you struggled to see yourself as beautiful - struggled to see yourself as a person Dottore would find beautiful.

Of course, your gratitude to the segments couldn't be properly expressed or put into words. You quite literally wouldn't be here without them. However, it is still incredibly demoralizing to be unable to do what you once loved. You really did love them, but... it wasn't enough.

Dottore, despite spending much time in his lab or elsewhere, still kept tabs on you of course. Not just as your doctor, but as your lover, it was important. He had seen you at your lowest numerous times before, comforting you through the worst moments, and he was angered - not at you of course, but rather at himself for being unable to do anything that would be enough for you. Yet he continued, even when you hid yourself from him.

This time, however, maybe the scientist could do a bit more. He doesn't particularly... approve of the Third, or your "friend", but she's far more knowledgeable in this area than he'll ever be. Thankfully, she didn't tease him too much, knowing of your current state.

Dottore had never been one to take much interest in your make-up or style, preferring to simply watch as you worked your magic. So seeing him walk in with make-up makes you think you're still dreaming. (You remember laughing at his segment's various fashion tastes when you woke up though.)

The questions die on your lips the moment he lays everything out and the soft brush tickles your face, not to mention how he's obviously inexperienced yet he's still doing a good job. A part of you aren't surprised because of course he'd be skilled at most things, but still, you thought Celestia would sooner fall on Teyvat than Dottore do your make-up for you. Slowly, you watch as he transforms your face into something that was once dearly familiar.

It's not the same. It may never be. But it's more than enough for you, to revisit the old days that you loved so much. You fear you may cry full-on if you speak, so a simple kiss on your husband's face will have to do.

But regardless of what you look like, no matter how much your body and looks will change, Zandik will always view you as the most beautiful creation on this planet.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #still thanks to my moot for giving me that explanation and advice 😭🙏#maybe during the summer i will try but idk what my mom will say 💀 i am deceased #i personally have pretty long hair and i get overwhelmed with it sometimes so id love to have the segments brush and take care of it for me #zandy would make me braids!!#i will be rereading this anon thx u #also dottore and bina besties so true

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sturnprime · 2 months ago

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BREAK AND FIX, chris sturniolo 🩵

from h ꨄ︎ ⎯ hi so first time writing anything like this very very nervy

i hope you enjoy 🩵 (join the taglist here)

rain pattered against the panes of the window, a sombre reflection of the current mood that filled the atmosphere. the room portrayed an almost movie like scene with mounts of tissues scattered across the floor and a tub of ice cream haphazardly tossed beside the bed.

it had been a month and you thought it was supposed to get better, thought that the aching sensation in your chest was supposed to disappear with time but it only seemed to be getting worse. books you read fed you this dream of getting over everything easily yet you sat snuggled under your covers, eyes with red rims and nose tinted with hints of painstaking rose that uncovered your mask of emotions.

the worst part was you didn’t think any of this was affecting chris as much as it was affecting you. your mind began questioning a bunch of things; whether or not he still loved you, if his current emotions were as pathetic as yours, if he was even sorry for ending things so abruptly. none of it made sense from the way things had been so perfect one second only to entirely crumble the next all the way down to that irritating voice in the back of your head that kept telling you, you should have somehow done more to make him stay or not desire to leave.

loud ringing from your phone that was resting on your pillow pulled you out of the trance you had unwillingly slipped into, your eyes widening slightly at the suddenness and even more so at the contact name that was displayed across the screen.

your fingers danced across the surface hesitantly, silently contemplating in your head whether or not answering the call was worth it. you wanted to be strong and pretend you could simply allow it to ring until it didn’t but there was a sort of gravitational pull that made your fingers have a mind of their own. you swiped to answer the call, met with a beat of silence that had you regretting everything within seconds before a heavy sigh was heard on the other end.

“i miss you so much, y’know that? can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” his words sliced through the air and your heart like a freshly sharpened knife, crimson painting your insides in a manner so harmful, you suddenly felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

what hurt more than anything was the slight slurring of his voice that told you he was drunk. surely the saying went that drunk words were sober thoughts but it felt like clutching onto air when you searched for genuineness within his actions.

for a moment you were paralysed, unable to speak or even move as you processed what he said but eventually your words found their way out and you prayed they didn’t showcase your distress towards everything, “you’re drunk chris.”

“baby it doesn’t matter,” his words were laced with a hint of desperation and for a fleeting moment it felt like he was about to apologise for one of your pointless arguments but the moment was gone as quick as you blinked and the reality of the situation doused over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

“chris i’m not… look just hang up and we can pretend this never happened okay? you don’t know what you’re saying right now,” each word that left you sounded foreign to your own ears, your voice lacking the excitement it used to hold when you spoke to him and in its place there was a semblance of melancholy.

there was shuffling on the other end and you could faintly hear the sound of his brothers somewhere else in the house. the toggles in your mind turned because you had assumed chris was at some sort of party but now that you thought about it, the only noise from the other end was his speech. there was no music or obnoxious chatter, just him and the now gentle sound of his breathing. it almost made you cave, almost made the barriers you had built up come crashing down.

but you had to be strong because of course you could give in but who was to say you wouldn’t end up in the same place all over again, internally pleading for a different outcome. so you ignored the craving inside of you to allow his words to drape over you like a comforting blanket, instead mumbling out a small goodbye and ending the call before waiting for his response.

the hammering inside of your chest didn’t disappear when the phone call ended, it increased and you could feel your anxiety bubbling up to the surface. the only solution you deemed possible was to sleep it out, to fall into a land of dreams where the world and the problems you were facing didn’t seem nearly as daunting.

with a reluctant sigh, you placed your phone on your bedside table as well as your glasses and got more comfortable under your sheets, pressing your eyes shut and hoping sleep greeted you as a dear friend there to take away your worries.

apparently the universe was on your side and you felt your eyes slipping closed within a few minutes and before you knew it, black filled your vision insinuating you had fallen asleep. your mind rested as you slept, the concerns that were plaguing your head before now long gone and unable to reenter the gates of your blockage.

the crepuscular rays of the sun awoke you from your much needed sleep and you groggily rubbed your eyes as you sat up in bed. with a few minutes of required mental preparation for the day, you clicked your phone on and paused when you saw the notifications. hesitance flooded your veins but no doubt this would be about the night before so you pulled it together and tapped on the notification.

chris

I’m sorry I was so fucking drunk I didn’t even know I called you last night

Can we talk?

you

talk about what?

i get it you were drunk shit happens

chris

That’s not what I mean

I mean properly talk

you

what could you possibly have to say to me

chris

So fucking much you have no idea

Please just let me come over and if you want after that I swear you’ll never see or hear from me again

One chance

you

fine

chris

Thank you

Seriously.

I’ll come over in an hour?

you

okay

what the fuck had you just agreed to? you felt dizzy with the thought of seeing him after a month but you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a little part of you that was the good kind of nervous. you and chris were no longer together but the effect he had on you had not vanished into thin air the moment he left. it may have been pathetic but even the mere sound of his name still had you fighting butterflies that threatened to let loose in your stomach.

for the next hour as you got ready for the day and had a little breakfast, you felt lightheaded. the seconds seemed to turn into minutes and before you knew it, your doorbell was ringing. it was almost comical how once upon a time chris would have stormed into your house like it was his own and announced he was home but now the ringing echoed in your ears. it was a stark contrast to what you had grown accustomed to and you felt nauseous at the unfamiliarity.

with a sickly feeling consuming you, your feet made their own way to the front door as you opened it, met with the sight of chris with his hair even more disheveled than it usually was. to others it would appear normal but you knew chris better than most and the odd angles his hair was sticking up in was a telltale sign he was nervous. it was a little comforting, the fact that you were both on the same page with your emotions for a second or so.

you moved to the side to allow him access into the house, an usual silence settling amongst you. the two of you walked into the living room wordlessly and then you slumped onto the couch.

chris cleared his throat and your eyes moved up to meet his. the different shades of his blue and your hazel flickered in recognition as you swore his breath hitched in his throat.

“i’m sorry… let me explain please,” and the pleading in his tone made you give in instantly.

yes you were weak but how could you not be when this was the boy you had fallen in love with? when this was the boy who had been there for you time and time again when you felt as though you deserved no one? you may have been weak but he made you so.

when you didn’t respond, chris took it as his opportunity to keep going, “i don’t know what i was thinking… you have to believe me when i say i fucked up. i never wanted to end it, i just got in my head and i made a mistake. a big fucking mistake please you have to understand… give me a chance.”

his pleading words were the only sound filling the air and it took everything inside of you to not console him. you had to remind yourself he was only hurt because he put himself in such a position, put the two of you in such a position. but the way his eyes were flickering with utter dread had your thoughts stilling until all you could focus on was him.

his hand moved to reach for yours and you should have pulled away instantly but his fingers felt like coming home after endless time away. your hand slot with his like two puzzle pieces and all you wanted was to be complete again. his thumbs swiped across your skin and you felt the flush before it came, felt the desire in your heart to stay in this vulnerable spot for eternity.

“chris how am i supposed to believe you? what happens when i give you a chance and this all comes back to bite me in the back? i can’t do it again, especially when i haven’t gotten over it the first time,” the words you spoke were a mere fragment of what you truly were feeling but any more thoughts lingered on your tongue until the taste became sour and bitter.

“i swear it won’t be like that. this time apart has shown me that i can’t do it without you. i love you, i love you even when i break you and it’s killing me. i want to fix things,” his voice cracked ever so slightly that you almost missed it but you knew him so incredibly well that you picked up on it instantly.

that torn up response made you want to glue him together. yes he broke your heart but your heart also belonged to him, used to beat to the melody of the both of you and you were not quite sure you wanted to stop listening to the harmonies just yet.

“i love you,” he repeated and you loved him too, despite the cracks he placed within your heart because once upon a time he had healed a heart he had never even broken.

“i love you too…” and it was not a lie, never had been since the first time you said it and he looked over the moon.

his eyes lighting up reminded you of the first time, of simpler times and it made you remember all the good moments you shared — ones you did not ever want to forget and craved to expand.

his body seemed to have moved closer, the gap between the two of you on the couch almost non existent but still it felt like lifetimes could slip between you. yet when he reached his free hand to cup your face, air couldn’t slip through even if it tried.

“can i kiss you? please,” he practically whispered and you nodded your head, silently accepting what this would lead to and even though it scared you beyond belief, chris still had a way of making you want to overcome every last fear you held as long as he was alongside you.

he didn’t waste even a second to connect your lips and the surge of electricity that shot through you was a feeling you came to realise you missed so fucking bad. he was practically on top of you as the kiss deepened and when he pushed you so you were laying on the soft cushion, you let him. his body hovered over yours and tongues collided in a rushed manner, a greeting between lovers who so desperately needed to reconcile.

his eyes held a concoction of hunger, affection and gratitude and you wanted to drink it all in. his hands moved to your top and with a silent word of agreement between you, he took it off and carelessly discarded it somewhere unknown.

he looked at you like he was seeing it all for the first time, like you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen and loved and it resulted in your heart soaring.

he pressed open mouthed kisses onto your collarbone and he spoke between each of them breathlessly, “god missed you so much… you’ve no idea… fuck.”

his lips trailed lower and lower, down your chest and to your abdomen and you fought the urge to squirm beneath him when they grazed the waistband of your skirt. it was as though you forget how to speak when he pushed the material down your legs and scrambled around to move it away from you.

“fuckin’ missed this pussy,” he muttered and you gasped when he kissed over the top of your underwear. he couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sound but deep down he too was trying not to drive himself crazy at the small contact.

“chris…” it was barely there but he heard it and it just made him want more, made him slide the only piece of clothing standing in his way off until his pupils dilated in utter lust.

“tell me you want it,” he all but asked and from the rasp in his voice, how could you not?

“please… i want it,” you let yourself go and the corners of his mouth tugged up into a slight smirk before his lips latched onto the exact spot where you needed him.

it was immediate, the way your hands grabbed onto his hair and tried to pull him even closer. the erotic noises in the air were driving you wild combined with the feeling of his tongue lapping against you. it felt so fucking good and you knew he knew it just as well because he wasn’t coming up for breaks.

he was eating you out like a starving man whilst his hands tightly gripped the sides of your thighs, “taste so fuckin’ good angel.”

you moaned involuntarily and his tongue moved faster in response, a reminder of exactly who was making you feel good. you tugged on his hair when he sucked on a particular spot and he whimpered, the vibrations against you getting you closer and closer to the edge.

“please,” your body moved to meet his mouth more and his nails dug into your side.

“please what?” he asked you, lips barely leaving their spot as the words escaped him and you whimpered at the sensations consuming you.

“god ‘m so close,” you managed to whine out and he took it as his cue to suck harder until you were nothing but a withering mess.

he loved the control he had over you, loved the way your body flailed underneath him yet you obviously didn’t want him to stop. you moaned his name like it was a mantra and he wanted to play the words on repeat for the rest of his life. god he missed the sound of your begging and whining more than he thought. he was honestly obsessed with every part of you and he couldn’t even bring himself to think of what a fool he’d been for ever attempting to rid himself of that.

“yeah? you gonna cum for me baby?” his words were all you needed and he loved that he still had that effect on you.

your hold on his hair tightened as your body let go, a blissful feeling taking over as he raised his head, his chin covered in remnants that only seemed to turn you on more.

“i love you,” he said it yet again almost like he was solidifying his emotions and for a moment it remained in the atmosphere because it only felt right to allow it to do so.

your fingers trailed to his sweatpants and he grinned widely as you flipped him over so you were now resting above him instead. “i love you too,” you replied and he leaned up to kiss you simply because he could; it was deep and passionate and telling of everything he’d been feeling for the past month or so.

you removed his articles of clothing one by one and he allowed you to wordlessly, an admirable smile on his face and adoration painting his eyes. this was exactly what he needed and he knew you needed it too from your desperate gaze that raked over his now naked body.

“come on angel be quick about it,” he groaned as your fingers teased him and you smirked, a sight he wanted to capture in his head as if it were a mental picture.

“shh, we’re doing this my way.”

TAGS @mattslolita @eyeliketoeatpoosay @chrissturniolossidehoe @middlepartmatt @raysmayhem-72 @conspiracy-ash @fratbrochrisgf @pvssychicken !

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gamesception · 11 months ago

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Sception Reads Cass Cain #32

Batgirl (2000) #14 writer: Puckett pencils: Scott

Different inker this time, John Lowe instead of Campanella. I'm not enough of a connoisseur of comic art to really notice the difference. Honestly, I've been favoring pencil art in this series in general and not really mentioning inker & colorist. Should I be crediting/calling those out specifically? Let me know.

Anyway, we're back to the main series. Last time Cass was riding high after saving a repentant assassin from government agents. It fit more or less right in with the sort of one shot story we've seen a few times in her series, so there really wasn't a reason to expect any follow up from it, though the tone was a notable break from the usual Batgirl benchmark somewhere between sombre and miserable. This time is a return to form.

Before we get into the issue, that note about the tone does tie into that DCWomenKickingAss post that's been making the rounds again recently (link), the one with the interview with Scott Peterson where he describes the original instructions he gave to Kelley Puckett for designing the new batgirl as:

“Hey, new Batgirl. Young–late teens, I think–and Asian. And cheerful and chipper and always up and good natured and she has a complete and total death wish.”

As much as the Cass we got ended up being my favorite comic character ever, it's unfortunate that the 'cheerful, chipper' aspect - which is definitely there in the character, I've talked in previous posts about how much she loves being Batgirl and how critical that is to her character and to the overall themes of the book - is rarely the dominant tone of her ongoing. The quote from Puckett above implies book that on the surface is bright and cheerful, with a subversive undercurrent that fades into the background only to rear up and slap you in the face unexpectedly, where as what we got is an unrelenting 'long darkness of the soul' situation, punctuated by brief flashes of light that more often than not turn out to be the headlights of an oncoming train.

Which brings us back to the current issue.

We start with some government suits watching video of Cass and debating whether she's a metahuman or not, before being surprised by the fact that they have no matching info for her. Still pretty fun and lighthearted, but it does establish the idea that these guys are going to be a problem.

we also re-do the goodbye scene from the end of last issue...

Only this this time Puckett adds this bit where the assassin realizes he'll never get to see his family again, dampening the mood, setting up for what happens to him later, but also putting this divide between himself and Cass. Last time this guy could be read as a sort of self-surrogate for her, someone parallel to her situation as a former assassin, and by saving him Cass was sort of getting the chance to save herself.

Here, though, the guy establishes himself, however briefly, as his own person, with a life and a family. All the things that Cass's unique history and circumstances have denied her.

Things that Barbara is extremely concerned that Cass may have permanently cut herself off from ever having in the future by letting herself be recorded by the government outside of costume.

Cass, of course, can't imagine a future for herself. Because she's going to die within the year when Shiva returns. And because she doesn't want to be anything other than Batgirl. But mostly because deep down she doesn't believe she deserves a life or a future, and doesn't want to think about why that is.

As it is, Cass doesn't think she has any connections, so isn't afraid of losing them.

Bab's dialog implies that she's going to go to Bruce about this thinking maybe he could get through to her, but Bruce, consciously or otherwise, has been actively isolating Cass, so can he really be counted on to prevent her from isolating herself even further?

There's this transition page where Cass wakes up to find Bruce instead of Oracle in the Tower. I don't talk about color much, but Jason Wright does a good job here, the colors not just conveying a transition to night but also the switch to a darker emotional and narrative tone, despite still being all smiles, not knowing what happened.

Just like John way back in issue two, we have another guy who Cass thought she had saved, and let herself feel happy about, only to find out that the villains had come back for them later. And once again it's a pretty gut wrenching twist.

Cass asks Bruce's permission to hurt these people, not just take them down and capture them, but to personally punish them, and he grants it, which is a pretty gross dynamic all round.

Remember this bit from issue 4, when Bruce is talking about how 'perfect' Batgirl was?

Better even than himself, not just as a matter of skill, but more importantly for how she was untainted by any excess cruelty. It's why he was so shocked to find out she might have killed someone, despite knowing Cain had trained her from birth to do just that. It wasn't something that the Cassandra the he knew was capable of. But a few short months working for Batman and...

This isn't 'gentle'. This isn't someone you'd be shocked to find out had killed someone.

Remember this bit from issue 4? Bruce all high and mighty about what David Cain did to Cass. But for all the painful and potentially lethal extremes of his training regimen, and for all the evil he intended her to do, David raised a girl who, once she understood what killing was, chose to abandon her life and her father - despite loving both - rather than kill again.

A few months exposure to Bruce is eroding away the humanity and compassion that compelled her to seek atonement in the first place.

Bruce, his methods, the way he treats his friends and family, he's actively making Cassandra worse.

On the way home Bruce says he's sorry, but it's about what happened to the assassin, he's not sorry for what he's doing to Cassandra himself, what he's taking from her. He's not even done taking things from her this issue, as he doesn't take her back to the clocktower.

Of course. Of course he's fine with throwing away even the possibility of a future independent of him and his mission. You can just imagine how the conversation with Babs went too, at first trying to appeal on Cass's behalf, Bruce just not getting it, switching to practical threats to the mission, how Cass's exposure potentially exposes Oracle, in the hope that he'll respond to that - only for Bruce to respond by taking Cass away entirely, severing the one lonely link to someone who at least tries to care about her as a person in her own right.

When Babs was trying to appeal to Cass earlier, she brushed her off, convinced that she didn't have anything to lose anyway. You can feel the realization dawning on her that yeah, she really did have something to lose.

And the issue ends with this panel that makes her tiny to emphasize how completely isolated she is now.

This issue is a major emotional low point in Cass's early series, maybe *the* major low point. Bruce at his worst, Cass at her most alone.

Things will slowly improve from here, though sadly never in quite the way they needed to, with a direct confrontation of Bruce himself.

#cassandra cain #sception reads cassandra cain #batgirl

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sweet-n-s4lty · 7 days ago

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Cupid & The Crown: Chapter the Second

ꪆৎ ˚⋅Yuji Itadori x reader -> Fluff + Royal AU Content Warnings: None 1.7k words. ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩

It had been exactly 46 hours and 23 minutes since Yuji was assigned your knight, and it has been 46 hours and 23 minutes since you had known peace. The boy had the usual squire expression about him, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He lacked the dull boredom that the knights you knew held. You couldn’t tell if you should feel sorry for him or not.

You were returning from the library to the kitchen to snag a snack or two to enjoy while reading. Yuji was hot on your tail, merely a few paces behind you, exactly how he was always following you everywhere you went, as per your father’s orders. Currently, he was trailing behind you, acting as your personal servant rather than a knight. He cradled large, heavy books you had borrowed from the royal library. Many had yellowed pages, and the once ivory sheets had tinted into a rustic beige with both time and use; the pages lay stacked in a rippled motion. Your arms wobbled with the sheer weight of the stacks, requiring a few trips back and forth depending on where you needed to take them. You supposed his strength had earned him a few brownie points in your book.

“Princess, what exactly are you gonna do with all these?”

“Read.” He felt sheepish. Maybe that was a dumb question on his end, he thought, scolding himself mentally.

“Oh.” You wanted to laugh. Despite the couple of days you’d known him, you recognised him as a puppy more than anything else—an annoying, sickeningly sweet puppy.

His face morphed into a look of pure boyish glee at praises you sent his way, even if it was in passing. Upon actually having gotten to know the boy, you quickly found yourself coming to terms with the fact your original hate wasn't hate per se, simply an outburst fueled by jealousy. He had his moments of course. Moments where you enjoyed his company, moments where small doses of his endearing nature had you laughing or cracking jokes with him. Despite your standoffish attitude with him, he wasn’t unlikeable… and although you’d rather throw yourself into moving traffic than admit it— he was okay at times.

His boots against the rugged hallway floors served as a constant reminder of your father’s orders and the presence you’d now have to grow used to, trudging behind, only a few paces after you.

Yuji lacked the stern visage the other soldiers you were used to had. Even the younger recruits were sombre in nature. But not Yuji. No, he wore his earnestness as a badge, his heart seemingly on his sleeve regarding his duties as a makeshift medal. It was endearing, his earnestness you meant.

You felt your face practically strafed by the warmth and cinnamon scent of the kitchen. You smiled at the few chefs and maids hustling to and fro, each one that left being replaced by the ones who came in with equal scrambles in their steps, hurried “Afternoon, Your Highness.” spoken in hurried mutters, all of which faced with a smile of your own. The kitchen held an abundance of tarts, all of which were too much for your father’s appetite, so a few you tucked away in a napkin. His dentist would thank you for it, you were sure.

Your eyes caught Yuji’s as he stood awkwardly at the door, neck craning and head peeking from the stack of books he cradled in his arms. You felt a strange pang of guilt, and maybe it was because he was so kind to you despite your aloofness, but you wrapped just one more tart away in a napkin, tucking it away in your dress pocket before waltzing out, head tilting in the direction you were going, inviting him to follow.

The weather was nary too cold or too windy, except for reading. You perched yourself on the rim of the fountain that lay graciously in the gardens, patting the seat next to you, more for Yuji to place the pile of books you were itching to sink your brain teeth into, instead, the soft clang of armour against stone had you looking up from the tarts on your lap to find him sat right next to you, arms lazily on his thighs, books placed— to your horror— on the cold stone below, damp from previous rainfall. You let out an offended gasp, looking between him and the books before placing the tarts on their nakin, next to your thigh and standing promptly to pick them up. He started helping after a second, realising that maybe he shouldn't have done that. “Are they not supposed to be on the floor?!” He rambled as he struggled to pick them all up as quickly as she was.

“Not when it's damp!” He placed half of it on the stone you were both previously seated on seconds before, the pile messy and unstable. As he picked up the others, the heavy splash you both heard had your eyes wide and his face drained of colour.

…Soaked. That’s what they were. Soaked and ruined and you’d never be able to fix them. You sighed in slight relief upon realising none of the limited editions had fallen in, only some literature books you were eager to reread. There were annotations left however that you'd miss, annotations left by your English tutor, and annotations that held so many perspectives you never got to analyse fully. Bummer but maybe not a total disaster. “I am so so so so sorry!” He apologised frantically, arms waving around in slight defence. His lips were downturned into a frown, thick eyebrows warped into apologetic bearing. “I’ll— “I’ll replace them, no matter how much they cost,” He stammered.

“With what money?” You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. In all honesty, you weren’t angry at all, maybe disappointed, but you recognised a mistake when you saw one.

“I—”

“I’ll have to stop you right there,” you said, holding your hand up to his face. You took a moment to recognise the way his shoulders slumped and his gaze averted yours, mousy brown darting around the scene rather than looking at you. “I’m not angry, nor did I ask you to repay me.”

“You aren't angry?” You shook your head, restacking the currently safe books and placing them in a steady, stable assemblage before re-seating yourself and flipping open a rather thick book. You flipped through the pages and picked up your tart after a while. The air was quiet, silent even if you disregarded the insubstantial chirping of mockingbirds and airy whistles of the crisp autumn gales.

You frowned, however, the minute you felt two holes searing into the side of your head.

Ignored.

A minute later, you felt the boy next to you leaning over your shoulder, eyes similarly tracing over the words, hardly understanding anything, but finding contentment in simply being included (despite being uninvited).

Ignored yet again.

“Did you want something?” You finally asked, an exasperated countenance trailing your face after you were pulled out of the pages with the ‘clank’ of his armour once again. He shook his head, a sheepish pink hue brushing over his cheeks and ears.

“...No.”

“You sure?” You felt a small smile itching to curl the ends of your lips as he shook his head, head hung, eye curiously peeking up from time to time. He was entertaining, you found yourself thinking.

You closed the book, placing it next to you and folding away your napkin, the cloth now dusted with golden crumbs that remained. Your hands smoothed over the lap of your dress and you looked up at him. “Say…you don’t feel out of place?”

He sat up, looking at you curiously. “Uhm, I’m not quite sure I understand?”

“Well you were knighted and so far all of you’ve been doing is carrying books and on the off moment you’ve “defended” me from something it was from a tiny knot of hair I thought was a spider,” He huffed out a laugh, reminiscing the earlier morning when you shrieked like a banshee all from a tuft of stray hair the previous morning. “I’m sure this isn't what you were expecting.”

“It isn’t so bad, my job is to serve you, yes?”

“Correct.”

“So I’m just doing the job I swore I’d do.” His donnish nature with words made it increasingly harder to hold a grudge against him. “Even if it means being diminished to…carrying books.”

A snort escaped your lips. “And you do it well, I must say.”

“Really?!” He beamed, head snapping around to face you, almost like a child basking in adolescent praise.

“Don’t get used to it.” You chuckled softly, reaching into your pocket and giving him the tart you’d snagged on his behalf.

“For me?” He pointed to himself, hand gloved in sheets of lustrous grey. He slipped it off and graciously took it in his hands with a quick ‘thank you’ and smile of gratitude. He took a bite and nodded in contentment, the sugary treat seemingly playing into his palette. “I promise I’ll do my best, even if this job is a little more boring than I initially thought…”

“What, did you think you’d be slaying dragons and fighting bandits?”

“Would you laugh at me if I said ‘yes’?”

You thought for a second before nodding, a chiding smirk already playing on your lips. “I can guarantee it.”

“Then please target I said anything, Princess.” You let out another laugh, cracking up a little.

“My father is paranoid, I don’t think I’ll need a big strong guy to protect me anytime soon, I’m more focused on not suffocating in these damn walls.”

He hummed in thought, nodding along as he bit into the pastry, the soft red of the jam smearing on his upper lip before he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. “I think I can do that too, I’m like an all-in-one package!” He beamed, boyish grin plastered on his face.

“Even if you are, don’t expect me to call you ‘Sire Yuji’ anytime soon.”

“Not even after my outstanding show of skill?!”

“Not even after your outstanding show of skill, I fear.”

Tbh, I think I did well on this chapter, wasn't sure abt it at first lmao.

Taglist: @stillnotherapy

©Sweet-n-salty -> MINE!!

#jjk x reader #yuji my beloved #⋆｡𖦹 Scriptures #i need my bae todo featured in the next chapter(s)

13 notes · View notes

ladyvillainous · 2 years ago

Text

Midway City: Swirling Ring of Trash in the Sky

Inclusion of my OC Suzanna Walker AKA Fade into the Suicide Squad. She is a former colleague of Rick Flag, a childhood friend of Harley Quinn, a former member of the Joker's gang after his escape from Arkham and Harley’s transformation and now a member of the Task Force X team. She will also be getting up close and very personal with our favourite Aussie, Captain Boomerang.

Description

Follows the events of the 2016 movie after the Joker’s interference

Midway City Part 3 of 4

Warnings

I think every member of the Suicide Squad is a warning all by themselves but to be clear there will be violence, swearing, a complete lack of morals or ethics of any kind at times. Spoilers!

Word Count: 6680

It was a sombre group that made its way back down to the lobby of the building, in yet another crazy turn of events Harley was gone and so was her Puddin’. As Fade had predicted the Joker had come for his queen, no one and nothing was going to get in his way. Lawton had surprisingly come through for his new friends, refusing to kill the woman even as she flew away from them. Fade was grateful but it hadn’t been enough to save her from Waller’s wrath, the fact that the woman’s chopper went down minutes later was poetic justice, but just meant that this never-ending nightmare of a mission wasn’t over.

Fade wasn’t even aware of the tears rolling silently down her cheeks, she only knew that her heart was broken over the loss of her oldest friend.

Digger wrapped an arm around her shoulder keeping her close as they made their way out onto the street, she was grateful for the warmth and the comfort. The man had pulled her to her feet and forced her to keep putting one foot in front of the other, without it she felt she might keel over at any moment.

The rainfall mirrored her misery beautifully, the water falling on her face to wash away her grief leaving an open wound gaping in her chest. She was so lost to it that she didn’t hear Digger quietly saying her name or notice that he was pointing to something a short distance from them until she heard a voice calling out “Hey guys’ I’m back! Did you miss me? I missed you all so much”

Eyes snapping round to the source Fade broke away from Digger, bolting towards the soaking wet and shivering blonde perched atop the black car. Jumping up onto the hood as Harley slid down the windshield into her waiting arms, each woman clutching the other to her.

Fade relieved to find her friend still alive, Harley seeking comfort against the sting of loss.

Rick paused wanting to give them a moment, but they needed to keep moving, catching his eye and nodding at him over Harley’s shoulder Fade pulled back, the women breaking apart with a quiet sniff and reddened eyes. Digger reached out a hand to help Fade down, not trusting her footing in her current state, rewrapping a protective arm around her once more as Lawton pulled Harley into his arms and set her gently on the ground “We’re glad you could make it”

Digger offered the woman a small smile as he attracted her attention “Hey craziness” tossing her the bat he’d snagged from the roof.

Fade held out her hand to the woman Harley lacing her fingers through hers, falling into step with the pair of them, as a trio they wended their ungainly way along the street following the course Rick laid out for them.

***

Fade wasn’t sure how long it took to find the downed chopper, but she was feeling far more herself by the time it came into sight, though a lot wetter than usual. Digger was no longer wrapped around her but had checked she was ok before he moved off, now walking with Diablo and Croc a short distance ahead. Her friend had merely raised an eyebrow when he’d left them alone, but not asked any questions. She was intrigued to understand what was going on, if anything, between her friend and the big Aussie, but it was all too painful to think about when she’d just lost the love of her life. Fade was grateful for her silence on the subject, she wouldn’t know how to answer her questions anyway. She couldn’t deny she found the man attractive, and he’d made it clear he thought she was too, but what intrigued her was that while his personality was abrasive on the surface, there seemed to be something more underneath. He was definitely a puzzle, but one she would have to figure out another time, right now her friend needed her.

Harley hadn’t said anything about what had transpired after she left them on the roof, but Fade knew that just meant she was still processing it. Just from the simple fact that the woman wasn’t gambling about like a bunny on crack told Fade she was hurting, especially as she hadn’t let go of her hand since they’d left the building behind. Fade kept her silence too, letting Harley deal with it in her own way but squeezing her hand gently from time to time to remind her that she was there, an answering squeeze telling her that she was doing the right thing.

They hung back as Rick and Alpha team inspected the chopper with Lawton, declaring Waller missing and moving out once again. Once again Lawton and Rick seemed to be disagreeing about their next course of action, though she felt he had a point this time. Heading directly to the source of the swirling ring of trash in the sky did seem blatantly idiotic, but they were also out of options.

The rain bucketing down out of the sky was obscuring visibility and generally making things more miserable than they needed to be, thankfully the rain itself wasn’t icy but being drenched to the skin wasn’t a pleasant experience. Faces screwed up against the driving rain no one noticed that Lawton wasn’t with them until the binder hit the car next to Rick, the clearly incensed man shouting at him to tell them all the truth.

What was left of Alpha squad and the task force gathered curiously, even Fade finally locating some interest in this evening’s events.

She watched Rick closely the man looked ready to snap, more defeated than she’d ever seen him before, stepping towards him his gaze snapped up to hers. The concern etched on her features finally breaking through to him, nodding he cleared his throat, a long overdue explanation finally forthcoming.

“Three days ago, a non-human entity appeared in the subway station. Waller sent me and a woman with incredible abilities… a witch. See nobody could get near this thing but the witch could” Fade frowned, the man looked on the verge of tears but she didn’t understand why, he had a personal stake in this that was yet to be revealed, that much was clear to her “Needless to say…” he continued “The whole thing was a bad idea, that’s how she escaped from Waller” He gritted his teeth glaring at Lawton levelling him with a ferocious look, sneering at the man “So now you know”

Fade looked at Lawton the man nodding along as Rick spoke eyes on the floor, finally lifting his head to declare “You can just kill me right now…” looking round he pointed to the building next to them, Fade glancing up to see it was some kind of trendy wine bar “But I’m going to have a drink”

He strode away without a another look in the soldier’s direction, Rick shouting after him, almost pleading with him “Deadshot I need your help!”

“No sir” Deadshot called back, pausing on the threshold to look back at him “You need a miracle”

Entering the bar, he disappeared from view, Fade looking to the others for their reaction.

Harley curtsied deeply and flounced into the bar after the assassin, Digger shot Rick a contemptuous smile before following, Diablo pulling Croc along with him as he too left.

The remaining members of Alpha squad shook their heads and continued along their path, they were soldiers after all and this was their mission, whatever their personal beliefs might be. Rick looked to Katana hoping for some support, but she wouldn’t or couldn’t meet his eyes, turning and heading into the bar after the criminals, a move Fade would have never expected. Leaving her alone in the rain with her former CO, Rick looked to Fade eyes dropping to the floor defeated. He’d been treating her poorly all evening, whatever his motivations might have been, he didn’t expect any support from her.

She sighed heavily, stepping forward to place a hand on his shoulder, the man’s head snapped up hope flaring in his eyes only to be extinguished a moment later as she too walked away.

Entering the bar, she found Harley playing bartender, pouring shots of whatever she’d laid her hands on first and handing them round. Lawton and Digger were propping up the middle section of the bar, Diablo at the far end, Croc taking up residence in one of the booths nearby. Pulling herself up onto the bar Fade swung her legs over placing her feet on the bartender’s side, she could see everyone from there and reach the good liquor on the top shelf.

Waving away the shot glass Harley held out to her, she instead reached up and grabbed down a bottle of single malt, cracking the top off and swigging directly from the bottle. It burned on the way down but in a pleasant way that reminded her she was still alive and helped shake off the chill of the rain permeating her very bones.

Even Katana accepted a shot from the pretty psychopath pouring drinks, but she refused to toast to honour among thieves as declared by Lawton, stating she wasn’t a thief and walking away from them, Fade sniggering at her reaction.

Lawton didn’t take it personally though he mocked her lightly, clinking his shot against Harley’s blue umbrella’d concoction and Digger’s can of beer before downing his shot.

As had been her way most of the evening Fade found herself zoning out, occasionally swigging from the bottle in her hand, half aware of the conversation but not really paying attention. Lawton was holding court for the most part, but then Diablo spoke up. He’d been the quietest out of them all so far, hanging back not wanting to get involved but based on what they’d seen back in the building he was also the most powerful amongst them. Judging by what he was telling them about his past and the groups reaction to it, he probably had the one of the most tragic backstories too due to misuse of the same powers, it certainly explained his reluctance to use them.

Fade couldn’t help but see the irony, she was sat in a room full of thieves and murders, herself included, even Katana couldn’t say her hands were clean whatever her reasons may have been. Yet none of them were comfortable with the thought of hurting women and children, she didn’t doubt some of them had killed women, when required, they’d probably even justified it to themselves as a necessary evil but the thought of killing an innocent bothered them all.

Fade eyed Croc as Diablo spoke, he was the only one she wasn’t sure of in that regard considering the man or beast, whatever he identified as, was a self-confessed cannibal. Perhaps he too drew the line at kids but then again he might consider them a delicacy.

It was Digger’s quiet question that brought her focus back to Diablo “and the kids?”

Harley the one to respond her voice shaking “He killed them” the horrified look on Digger’s face surprised Fade but because his eyes were watery too betraying the big Aussie’s bleeding heart for all to see. Scooting sideways along the bar slightly she leant forward reaching over to place a hand on his shoulder, offering and the same comfort he’d given her this evening. He looked up at her, blinked a couple of times and pulled her hand from his shoulder to hold it tightly in his own. Fade was distracted but looked up when Harley shouted at Diablo, his own eyes tearing as he thought of his family, confessing his sins to the rest of them. The blonde continued to have a go at him though the volume of her voice dropped, Lawton attempting to get her to leave him be, but she ignored him. Fade frowned Harley had a sharp tongue at times but this wasn’t her, this was her grief talking, her mouth running away with her before her brain could catch up.

It was Digger that was the one to silence her “Why is it always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth” he demanded coldly, glaring at her across the bar Harley’s eyes widening at the challenge, but refusing to back down considering the way he was talking to her.

Fade didn’t exactly blame him, but she extracted her hand from his immediately, not that he noticed. Letting her go without sparing her a glance as he continued, a nasty edge to his voice “You know outside you’re amazing but inside… you’re ugly”

Harley bit back straight away declaring in a whisper “We all are… We all are” her voicing rising as she repeated her words driving her point home.

Digger opened his mouth to argue some more but Fade cut him off testily, a look of loathing on her face as she defended her friend “That’s enough”

The Aussie raised an eyebrow at her shocked by the look of blatant hostility on her face, a nasty snarl gracing his own as he opened his mouth once more, eyes flashing with anger locked on hers.

The sound of the door opening attracted everyone’s attention, whatever retort Digger was going to make dying on his tongue as they watched Rick enter the bar.

Fade watched him walk across the room settling on the stool between Diablo and Lawton unsurprised, he wouldn’t have just walked away from them, they were assets and his responsibility, it would be his ass on the line if he just let them walk away.

It was Harley that addressed him first, shaking her head at him “We don’t want you here”

Rick looked up to her face and then around to the rest, the truth of her words reflected back to him everywhere he looked, even by Fade.

“Did you get to the part in that binder where I was sleeping with her?” Rick admitted his attention on Lawton. No one else had seen the binder but no one reacted to the new information, it made sense when you thought about it now she had the last piece of the puzzle, but the hypocrisy of it was what pissed her off.

“Unbelievable!” She muttered swinging herself from the bar and dropping down to the floor, adding “I need some air” for whoever might be paying attention to her.

Striding from the bar into the street she was relieved to find it had stopped raining at last, she never intended to go far but she needed a moment alone. Eyeing Alpha Squad who had apparently returned to wait for their CO she turned, disappearing into the small alleyway that ran between the bar and the next building, dropping down onto her haunches her back against the wall.

Shaking her head, she fumed quietly to herself at the man’s gall, the way he’d been talking to her all night grated on her. He’d been treating them all as freaks and degenerates, but yet whole time he’d been sleeping with someone just like them. Acting like he was somehow above them, but the whole time he was no better, a murderer for his country rather than money but a murderer, nonetheless.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled Fade back into the present suddenly aware that she was somewhat exposed and on her own, which given the current situation could be potentially hazardous to her health.

Standing and peering out into the street she was astonished to see Digger march swiftly past “Hey Digger!” she called out as he moved out of her eyeline. Backtracking he arrived back at the entrance to the alleyway moments later, an apprehensive look on his face considering they’d been on the precipice of an argument when Rick had entered the bar.

Fade shrugged waving her hand indicating she’d moved on instead cocking an eyebrow at him “You trying get your head blown off? You know Flag won’t hesitate right? He proved that earlier if you remember”

Digger nodded at her acknowledging the wordless dismissal of their almost disagreement with a small grateful smile, explaining “Flag said we were free to go”

Fade hummed in response “Seems unlikely?”

Digger laid a hand on his chest over his heart, the other palm up in front of him “Swear on me mums’ life. Smashed the gadget that makes our heads pop right in front of us and everything”

She scoffed eyebrows flying up to her hairline in shock “Well shit. Didn’t know he had it in him, the explosive is still embedded in your neck though” she pointed out.

He nodded with a smile “I know a guy back at central city” frowning slightly he appeared to be considering his next words, finally opening his mouth his decision made “Fancy comin along for the ride?”

That took Fade aback, it was quite possibly the last thing she expected him to say, “You want me to come with you?” she clarified, wondering if she misheard.

He shrugged “Why not?” downplaying the request he continued “Someone with your skill set could come in handy in my line of work”

Fade smirked at him “Oh I see it’s my skill set you want to take advantage of… nothing else”

Chuckling he stepped into the alleyway away from the interested eyes of Alpha squad, crowding her to the wall “If there’s more on offer Darl, I won’ be saying no”

“You want to get up close and personal, do you?” Fade teased as he grinned down at her “How close were you thinking?”

Stepping firmly into her personal space he placed a hand on the wall either side of her head leaning down his lips a beath away from hers “Reckon this is a pretty decent start alright”

Pausing he waited for her to decide, he’d made it clear what he wanted but she needed to decide for herself. It was only a few seconds that they stared at one another, but it felt like an eternity until Fade leant forward connecting their lips her hands flying up to wrap around his shoulders pulling him to her and pressing her body against his tightly.

She felt him smile into the kiss, pushing her back against the wall, crushing her between the brick and his bulk, arms dropping to wrap around her, holding her tightly as their mouths moved in sync.

His lips were insistent on hers demanding the surrender she was only too willing to give with the way his hands were exploring her body. When one large hand slipped underneath her jacket, she gasped his hands cold on the warm skin of her back.

Chuckling at her reaction he slid his other hand under the jacket as well sighing he used her as a hand warmer, Fade squirming under his touch. Slipping his tongue into her mouth while she was distracted the kiss turned heated in a heartbeat. Plundering her mouth, he tangled his tongue with hers enthralled with her taste undercut with the whiskey she’d been drinking moments earlier.

Fade knew she needed to stop him, she was rapidly getting punch drunk on his kisses, if she allowed this to continued much longer, she suspected she’d agree to anything he might suggest.

Placing a firm hand on his chest she pushed him away from her, stifling her own whine at the loss of contact, the world rushing to them the stillness of the night buzzing in her ears as loud as the pounding of her heart.

Digger blinked rapidly appearing a little dazed himself, recovering himself enough to grin down at her “That a yes love?”

With a deep and somewhat regretful sigh she shook her head, stepping out of his arms as his face fell “You’re really going back?”

She paused at the entrance to the alleyway “I made Flag a promise, besides I can’t leave Harley”

He nodded disappointment and resignation on his face “Shame. You and me coulda had some fun. Reckon I coulda shown you a real good time” He leered at her, his roguish charm coming as easily as breathing.

Chuckling she nodded, but not willing to say goodbye completely “Maybe you still will sometime” a grin spreading across his face when he realised, she wasn’t saying no, just not now “See you around Digger”

“Later Darl” he called after her as she exited the alleyway leaving him behind.

Returning to the bar, sad that Digger was gone but not believing for one second that it would be the last she’d ever see of him, she reached for the door just as it opened from the other side. Lawton nearly knocking her on her ass as he exited the building “You running too?” she quipped, but the man shook his head “Nah we’re gonna get this shit done”

Fade smiled when Harley appeared behind him moments later a answering wide smile on her face and a determined look in her eye.

Rick exited next, stilling when he saw Fade surprised “You’re still here?” he asked disbelieving, despite her presence in front of him.

She shrugged “Couldn’t leave Harley could I”

“I can take care of myself” the blonde countered at once slightly put out.

“Oh, I know that” Fade retorted turning to look at her as the others filed out of the building behind Rick “I was more concerned about how many of the others you’d get killed in the process” She added sweetly, motioning to them with an incline of her head, Rick snorting and then quickly covering his laughter as the woman scowled at him.

Regrouping with Alpha Squad who were actually pleased Rick had managed to talk them round, they left Rick standing awkwardly in front of Fade, a hand scratching at the back of his neck betraying his unease.

“Look Suz..” he started but she cut him off not needed the apology “It’s Fade now… and don’t worry about it”

Rick smiled tightly but nodded relieved he was getting off so easily, he should have known better.

“You know I don’t judge” she winked at him turning to join the others.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He called out hurrying after her and falling into step at her side, the group moving out with a nod of his head.

“So you’ve got a bit of a taste for the bad ones now” Fade continued, causally checking over her guns and reloading them as they walked “I don’t blame you, heart wants what the heart wants” She added slapping a fresh magazine into place with a reassuring click. Turning to look at him with a grin spreading slowly across her face she added “Then again we could be talking about something slightly further south of your heart” she dropped her gaze pointedly to his groin with an accompanying wink to finish off her point that had him barking out a loud laugh, several of Alpha squad looking around startled by the noise.

Stifling the noise quickly he grinned at her, more the man she knew right now than he’d been all night “I haven’t missed you” he declared.

Chuckling she nudged his shoulder with hers “Yeah, you have. Now come on let’s get this kamikaze mission underway”

Lawton snorted at her comment looking over his shoulder at her to ask, “In a hurry to die or something?”

Fade shrugged “I’m wet, cold, tired and let’s be honest, more than a little bored of traipsing around this damn city. If I die, well at least I know hell will be warmer than this” she finished with a smirk on her face, in no doubt where she’d end up if this mission ended badly for her.

Chuckling Lawton called over his shoulder “Meet you down there?”

“You’re on” she called back, turning to Harley as she fell back from the others to talk to her

“Where’s Boomer?” she enquired, looking over her shoulder as if the man would magically appear at her words.

Slotting her now reloaded weapons back into her holsters Fade explained with a small pang of disappointment, not that she blamed him “He took off”

Harley watched her friends face closely, spotting the flicker of emotion, a small smile springing onto her face in response, it had been a long time since she’d seen Fade interested in anyone. Even though he was gone she considered it progress “That’s a shame” she murmured still smiling even though Fade was now rolling her eyes at her tone.

“What’s a shame?”

Looking around sharply, at the familiar but unexpected voice Fade smiled in welcome, shaking her head. Harley merely shooting him a knowing glance as joined them, finishing his beer and tossing the can over his shoulder.

“You came back?” Lawton called out, acknowledging the return of the Aussie with a note of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah well, the crazy bitch is trying to destroy the world” Digger hollered back “So I figured I was screwed either way, might as well go down swinging”

Fade snickered as Rick tensed as his words “Hey that’s his girlfriend you’re talking about” she admonished him, earning a glare from the soldier “Could you not?”

“There’s no accounting for taste” interjected Lawton the disgust in his voice evident.

“Hey!” Rick reared up defending his love “June’s a good woman”

Lawton snorted at his misunderstanding “Hey I got no dispute it’s her taste I’m questioning, she went slumming with the likes of you”

“He’s got a point” Fade laughed out loud, grinning good humouredly.

“Shut up” Rick growled but couldn’t seem to prevent the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

***

Getting to the swirling vortex of death hadn’t been a problem strangely, with no sign of any more of the bubble headed creatures that used to be people. Rick informed them when asked that Enchantress’ brother Incubus feeds on a person’s lifeforce, suggesting that with the city evacuated he might be snacking on their own army. Fade scrunched up her nose in disgust at the thought, though it did mean less bad guys overall it also meant the big guy was likely to be hungry by the time they got there. Despite having scuttled away as soon as he was free to do so, now Digger was back with them, he was actively participating. Producing some sort of surveillance boomerang when they were discussing how to best find out what was going on in the station without putting anyone in danger, up until that point the best suggestion was for Fade to go have a look, something she wasn’t too thrilled about.

She was impressed when he revealed he’d made it himself, not taking offense at her amazement he just smiled at her “I might talk rough love, but I’m not as stupid as people think”

Shooting him a quick smile they followed the others to the closest subway entrance, with the intention of retrieving the demo charge that Enchantress had come so close to blowing up Rick with earlier, but found the tunnel flooded.

Luckily for them it turned out that GQ and the remaining three members of Alpha squad were Navy seals before they joined ARGUS, I quick call back to base and their scuba gear was on the way, the four of them dashing off to the rendezvous point.

Now all they had to do was sit and wait, which was easier said than done, everyone was running on adrenaline by this point amped up and ready to go but instead they could only busy themselves with checking their gear. Fade handed Harley one of her spare Mags the blonde popping out the bullets one by one transferring them to her six shooter. She went to tuck the rest of the magazine into her bra but Fade just frowned at her and snatched it away, slipping it back into her vest securely with a shake of her head. It wasn’t as bad as tucking a loaded handgun into the waistband of your trousers, but it wasn’t exactly sensible either.

Fade checked over her guns repeatedly thumbing the safety on and off, ensuring it wouldn’t jam and then reloading. It was a nervous habit she’d developed over time, something she didn’t even notice anymore but the near constant clicking of her weapons had Rick chuckling, the sound drawing her attention. Snorting with amusement as she realised what she’d been doing, the woman checked over the guns one last time and holstered them with a smirk, but now she had nothing to occupy her hands or her brain.

Watching the others instead, she found they all had their own rituals, Rick and Lawton checking over their guns as she had been, though slightly less obsessively. Digger sharpening the already razer sharp edge of a Boomerang with a small whet stone and Katana talking to the smoking sword in her hands in hushed rapid Japanese, the emotion clear in her voice.

Fade already knew Katana’s backstory, but it was no less sad hearing Rick explain it to everyone else, somehow it hit different today. They might be nothing but a bunch of morally and ethically grey criminals, but none of them had to be here each of them had chosen to take on this fight, to protect something or someone. A quiet had settled over them that bordered on uncomfortable, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Digger that broke first, unable to bear the tension he made a snarky remark, as was his way “Yeah well… you know what they say about the crazy ones”

Fade chuckled looking up at the man to find he was staring at her, a strange look on his face that she couldn’t place, but she offered him a smile that he returned as Harley called “Huh?” making them all laugh quietly.

“Good to go” GQ called into the entrance they were clustered around, Rick responding back with an affirmative, motioning for the group to follow him with a clipped “Let’s move”

Entering the main hall of the train station through the devastated subway beneath they were able to witness first-hand the damage Incubus could cause. Dead bodies and ammunition casings littered the floor, while more of the black spikey substance they’d seen earlier hung from walls and the ceiling.

Moving quickly but quietly up the stairs, they darted behind the stone pillars surrounding the open area usually full of commuters, but today only containing Enchantress and her weapon.

The light show they could see outside was emanating directly from her like glowing smoke it was mesmerizing to watch her body undulating ceaselessly as they watched enthralled.

“Hey, everyone can see all this trippy magic stuff, right?” Harley murmured quietly, a nervous edge to her voice.

Lawton nodded as Rick asked, “Yeah why?”

Harley smiled at him relieved but still not entirely convinced, explaining “I’m off my meds” something that had Fade stifling a snort of laughter.

The sound of Enchantress’ voice calling out to them was strangely unnerving, despite speaking softly her voice not raised, each of them could hear her as clearly as if she was stood next to them.

“I’ve been waiting for you all night. Step out of the shadows I won’t bite”

Fade raised an eyebrow, did the witch seriously think anyone of them would fall for that, the next second biting back a yelp of surprise as Harley deemed it a perfectly reasonable request and trotted off towards her.

"Harley!” she hissed, lunging for her almost out of cover, but Digger wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her back, holding her against him as Lawton did the same to Harley.

She stopped struggling to get to her crazy friend settling for shooting her an aggravated look that just had Harley shrugging.

“Why are you here?” the witch continued undeterred “Because the soldier led you? and all for Waller. Why do you serve those who cage you? I Am your ally and I know what you want, exactly what you want”

Fade shook her head as a strange buzzing sounded in her ears her entire body prickling all over but not unpleasantly. Closing her eyes, she felt a warm breeze on her face the warmth of the sun on her skin, a feeling of peace in her soul with only the sound of the sea surrounding her. Confused she blinked, opening her eyes to see the endless expanse of the glittering blue ocean before her, leaning back and twisting she realised she was stood on the deck of a massive sailboat, completely alone. The quiet comforting rather than fear inducing as she’d been trained to expect, she leant into the feeling, turning back to the water, and gazing over the wide expanse with a deeply satisfied sigh.

The sound of bare feet padding across the wooden boards drew her attention, but she didn’t turn, a pair of strong arms wrapping around her from behind, warm lips caressing the skin of her neck “So where to next Darl?”

The familiar cadence of Digger’s accent broke her from the trance, shocked that he would appear in what she guessed to be her most deep-seated desire. Jerking forward as she awoke from the witches’ spell, Digger’s arm still caging her dragged her back, his face buried in her hair as he muttered to himself with his eyes closed.

Looking to the others they all seemed to be locked within the spell, dazed expressions across their faces only Diablo was fighting, his face screwed up against the onslaught. A pained shout ripped from him as his eyes snapped open “Can’t change what I did and neither can you!”

Breathing hard he looked around, seeing only Fade awake and staring at him, she could only guess what the shaking and angry man had been shown. Pointing at Digger and Katana he turned to Lawton, Rick and Harley “Wake them up”

Twisting in Digger’s strong grip she fisted her hands in his jacket the best she could do in the confined space, shaking him roughly “Wake up!” he didn’t react, continuing to murmur to himself. Fade felt almost guilty waking him, his expression was so peaceful she didn’t want to tear him away from whatever he was seeing, but that wasn’t something she could allow him right now.

Reaching up she gripped his chin harshly and shouted again, louder this time but still nothing. Frowning unsure what to try, a wicked thought stole across her tired brain, if this didn’t work nothing would.

“Oh my god Harley! Put your shirt back on and stop kissing Katana” she all but screamed in his face.

Jerking awake so quickly it was almost comical Digger’s gaze cast wildly around, finally coming to rest on her upturned and grinning face. She expected a harsh rebuke or a furious complaint for tricking him, but he just gazed at her confusion clouding his eyes, hands bunching into the fabric of her jacket at her waist, seemingly unwilling to let her go.

“Digger?” She whispered gently, hand coming to rest over his chest, his heart beating wildly and erratically under her palm as he calmed slowly.

“You looked lovely in that dress” was his quiet response, Fade’s mouth falling open in surprise at his words “What dress?”

Her words and shocked expression seemed to clear the lingering traces of the spell from the man, shaking his head he let go of her abruptly, stepping back quickly and then around her. A pink tinge climbing his cheeks as he followed Diablo down the stairs into battle.

***

Groaning Fade sat up too quickly the tiles appearing to jump up and smack her in the face as she almost collapsed back down onto them. The last thing she remembered before everything went dark was being lifted up in the air, every nerve ending screaming her body taut and rigid feeling as though she was being ripped apart.

“Woah there love, steady now”

A familiar voice broke through the fog, warm hands propping her up against something just as warm but hard like the floor she was sat on.

“Feels like I got hit by a truck? What the fuck happened?” She muttered rubbing her face, peeling open her eyes and blinking rapidly up into Digger’s concerned face, confirming that she was leaning against his chest, propped up between his legs.

“She did something to ya darl. Stopped ya phasing or some shit, and then chucked you across the room” he explained, Fade nodding along it sounded familiar she just couldn’t remember it happening.

Looking slowly round Fade took in the darkened room, the earlier light show absent, chaos and devastation all around them “Did we win?” she murmured eyes straying to the panicked desperate witch surrounded by the others, Rick towering over her with her heart in his hand.

Moments later a devastated Rick crushed the heart he held in his hands falling to his knees and sobbing unashamedly, for the second time tonight Fade’s supposedly non-existent heart broke. She wanted to go to him, but her legs felt disconnected from her body, instead she leant into Diggers warm embrace, a single tear falling for her friend.

The man was surprisingly comforting though he’d had plenty of practise already this evening, making quiet shushing sounds to sooth her as she cried, she wasn’t sure why he was being so gentle with her but was too tired to question it.

A commotion by the steps drew their attention back to their fallen foe, only to see Rick rush forward with a surprised sob, pulling his lost love into his arms.

It took a moment for Fade to stop crying relief, making her tears fall even harder but it gave her enough time for her head to clear. Wondering how she had come to be tucked between Digger’s legs, in a far corner of the training station surrounded by debris, she frowned up into his tired face. “Did I land on you?” the only conclusion she could draw from their positioning.

“Sorta” he confirmed with a small wince rolling his shoulders, his aching joints cracking with the movement.

“What do you mean sorta?” she muttered still trying to make sense of what was going on

“He caught you babes” Harley announced, having bounced over to check on her now that June was once again up and about, lost love restored.

“You caught me?” Fade peered up into Digger’s face surprised.

Grabbing her friend under the arms Harley attempted to haul her to her feet, she was surprisingly strong, but Fade had to help her, pulling her shaking legs under her as Harley responded to her question matter of factly.

“Well, he cushioned your fall more than anything else, but otherwise I reckon you’d be splattered across the floor about now”

Standing upright on legs that still felt like jelly Fade raised an eyebrow at the Captain commenting “That was surprisingly selfless of you”

He barked out a laugh “What can I say sweetness I’m a nice guy”

“Yeah, I’m not buying it” Fade snorted a grin on her face as she held out a hand to help him up.

Miming an arrow to the heart he clutched at his chest “I’m wounded Darl”

“No, you’re not” she shook her head at him waving her hand in his face “Come on gimme your hand”

Reaching for her they were all surprised when Digger’s hand passed straight through hers.

Frowning Harley watched her for a moment as Fade stared at her own hands, watching herself fade in and out but without control.

“You ok babes you’re kinda flickering” she murmured taking a small step back from her, as though she was a bomb that might go off at any moment, instead holding a handout to help Digger clamber to his feet.

“Well, that’s irritating” she muttered still staring at her hands “Hope it goes away”

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motherofdragonflies · 2 years ago

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A Very Prompty Christmas Day 28: Movies

“Five tickets for ‘Soul’, please,” Dean said cheerfully, pushing his credit card through the plexiglass divider to the completely unenthused teen behind the counter.

The printer spat out a strip of tickets and the teen handed them to Dean, along with his credit card, and recited, “enjoy the movie” in a tone that said ‘I couldn’t care less if you enjoy the movie, they pay me to say it, not to care,’ and Dean could relate.

“Thanks,” Dean said, and herded his small family (his heart aching at the idea that he had a small family, and desperately wanting to wrap his arms around them and never let them go) towards the confectionary stand. “All right, who wants popcorn?”

As Sam, Eileen and Jack began to negotiate the minefield that was popcorn and drinks and candy, Cas pulled Dean slightly to one side.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Cas asked, and Dean nodded, trying to seem more confident than he felt.

“‘Course it’s a good idea,” Dean said. “Look at him, doesn’t he look like he’s having fun?”

Cas turned his head to look where Dean was gesturing, and Dean followed his gaze to look at Jack, currently holding two large buckets of popcorn in the crooks of his arm and smiling at something Sam had said to him. But as Cas and Dean watched, Sam turned back to ask Eileen something and the smile slipped from Jack’s face, the corners of his mouth turning down and his eyes growing sombre.

Dean sighed. Since Christmas Day, Jack had grown more and more quiet, his face falling into deeply contemplative lines when he didn’t think anyone was watching. Cas had raised it with Dean that morning, but Dean had been watching for days, watching as a sadness rolled in like storm clouds obscuring the brilliant midday sun. Today’s activity—a two-hour road trip to the multiplex to see a movie—was Dean’s last-ditch attempt to do something fun with Jack, for Jack, because he had a horrible feeling that this was going to be the last time they saw the kid, maybe forever.

He turned to Cas. “Can’t we just enjoy ourselves?” he asked Cas. “Watch the movie, eat some popcorn, pretend for a few hours that everything’s okay? Please?”

Cas turned his gaze away from Jack and met Dean’s eyes. “Of course, Dean,” he agreed. “We can do that.”

Relieved, Dean smiled and reached out, taking Cas’ hand and squeezing it tightly. Cas looked at him curiously but didn’t let go, instead lacing his fingers through Dean’s hand and tugging Dean after him as he walked towards Sam, Eileen and Jack, who were waiting for them, arms full of popcorn and soda and boxes of candy.

Dean saw Sam’s eyes drop to his and Cas’ hands, and for a second, Dean panicked. He’d forgotten that they were out in public, that he and Cas weren’t in their own little bubble, tucked away together where the world couldn’t see them. The world could see them, two men, holding hands, and an ugly voice in the back of Dean’s head started whispering horrible, insidious things, that made Dean want to drop Cas’ hand, move away, crack some kind of joke as a distraction.

Cas’ hand started to slip away, almost as though he could sense Dean’s inner turmoil and wanted to spare him, and Dean’s fingers scrambled to grab at Cas’ hand, to hold on to him tightly. It was easy to be brave in the privacy of their bedroom, to tell Cas how he really felt when it was just Cas and Dean. It had been not as easy to be brave in front of Sam, to not hold back from touching Cas the way he wanted to touch him, but still low-stakes, since Sam had apparently known about them all along. But being brave wasn’t about doing the hard thing when it was easy, it was about being terrified and doing the hard thing anyway, and so Dean held Cas’ hand as he walked across the lobby.

If he kept his eyes resolutely on Sam so he couldn’t see the reactions of anybody around him, well, Dean never claimed to be completely brave.

Sam’s eyes were proud as he handed Dean a bucket of popcorn and a box of popcorn, and Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, yeah, shuddup,” he grumbled, making Sam laugh and Jack ask what was so funny, making Sam laugh harder as he turned and headed into the cinema.

------------------------------------------

It was a red-eyed and sniffling group that left the cinema two hours later, all of them deeply affected in a way that Dean didn’t think animated movies had any right to do. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to take a group of people who had all experienced death and rebirth, two of them losing their souls along the way as well, to a movie about, well, death and souls and rebirth, but in Dean’s defence, how was he supposed to know that that’s what the movie was about? He’d seen ‘animated’ and a session that had open captions and thought bingo. He didn’t realise he’d be traumatising everyone, including himself.

The drive back to Lebanon was quiet, the only sound in the car the jazz music Sam played through his phone after Jack asked a question about the music from the movie. Cas was sitting up front next to Dean, eyes constantly flicking up to the rearview mirror, brow furrowed with concern. Dean looked up, and met Jack’s eyes in the mirror, his blue eyes sad but determined, and Dean forced down the lump that had suddenly grown in his throat.

Dean guided the Impala down into the Bunker’s garage and parked her in “her’ spot, then cut the engine. As everyone climbed out and Sam and Eileen made their way up towards the main level, Dean caught Jack by the elbow.

“Jack, hey,” Dean said, holding him back. He sensed Cas coming around the car to stand next to him. “What’s going on?”

Jack looked between Cas and Dean and then sighed. “It’s time for me to go,” he said reluctantly.

Dean exchanged an alarmed look with Cas and then looked back at Jack. “Go? Back to Heaven?”

Jack nodded. “I wanted to have Christmas with my family, and I did. I had a wonderful Christmas. But Christmas is over now, and I need to return to Heaven. I…my presence has been missed,” he said.

Dean opened his mouth to argue, to try to convince Jack to stay just a few more days, to spend more time with Cas, but before he could, Cas asked, “Is everything alright in Heaven, Jack?”

“Oh! Yes,” Jack assured him. “The angels have been working hard. I just…I have responsibilities,” and his young shoulders sagged for a moment, weighed down with the weight of those responsibilities. “And I shouldn’t neglect them any longer. No matter how much I enjoyed being here and spending time with my family.” He gave Cas a smile that was only slightly tinged with sadness, and Dean felt that lump in his throat grow bigger.

“When will we see you again?” Dean asked.

Jack turned a beautific smile towards him. “When it’s your time,” he said simply. “Which won’t be for a long time yet. But I’ll be waiting. For both of you,” he added, looking at Cas, and Dean felt tears fill his eyes at the reminder that Cas was human now. Mortal. He would grow old, and one day he would die, just as Dean would grow old and die.

But what was death, really, when you knew what awaited you? How could you fear death when it wasn’t an ending, but a new beginning? How could you be sad when it meant that you would be reunited in paradise with your family?

“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” Dean croaked, grabbing Jack and hauling him into a tight embrace. Jack clung to him, hands clutching at the back of his jacket, face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck, and Dean closed his eyes and held him, trying to commit the feel of the young man in his arms to his memory.

He felt Jack pull away and let him go, clenching his jaw and trying to stop the tears in his eyes from spilling over when Jack turned to Cas and threw himself into his father’s arms, Cas’ hugging him back just as tightly, whispering something into Jack’s ear as he held him. Jack nodded and pulled back, keeping his hands on Cas’ shoulders as he looked at Cas.

“I will, I promise,” he said.

“Good,” Cas said, his voice low and rough, his eyes shiny with tears.

“When,” Dean started, his voice sounding just as wrecked as Cas’, and coughed, trying again. “When are you going?”

Jack dropped his hands and looked at Dean. “Now,” he said.

It was too soon, they hadn’t had long enough, there was still so much that Dean needed to make amends for, so much he wanted to show Jack—

“What about Sam?” was what came out of his mouth, and he saw Jack hesitate.

“I…will you say goodbye for me? I don’t think I can…” and just for a moment, Jack looked like the young child he really was, and Dean nodded, willing to do anything that Jack asked if it stopped him from looking like that.

“Of course, Jack. He will be sad that he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but I understand,” Cas said.

“I won’t really be gone,” Jack offered, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, every drop of rain,” Dean said. “I remember.”

“And you can talk to me, whenever you want,” Jack said, perking up slightly. “I might not be able to answer, but I’ll hear you.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Cas said, and Dean nodded in agreement.

Jack took a deep breath and released it. “Well. Goodbye,” he said, holding up one hand.

“Goodbye, Jack, “ Cas said.

“Bye, kid,” Dean forced out, and with a smile that was only slightly sad, Jack turned and started to walk up the ramp that lead out of the garage, his image growing fainter and fainter until he finally faded from view.

“Goddamnit,” Dean choked out, unable to hold back the tears anymore, and he turned at the touch of Cas’ hand on his arm and buried himself in Cas’ embrace, feeling Cas’ shoulders shake as they clung to each and cried. It wasn’t really goodbye, but right at that very second, it felt like it.

We’re getting so close to the end! Come back tomorrow for Day 29: Cozy

Day One: Advent Calendar

Day Two: Tinsel

Day Three: Ribbon

Day Four: Shopping

Day Five: Ugly Sweater

Day Six: Candy Canes

Day Seven: Christmas Spirit

Day Eight: Mistletoe

Day Nine: Gingerbread

Day Ten: Eggnog

Day Eleven: Naughty or Nice

Day Twelve: Snow

Day Thirteen: Sleigh Ride

Day Fourteen: Tree Farm

Day Fifteen: Decorations

Day Sixteen: Angels

Day Seventeen: Lights

Day Eighteen: Christmas Miracle

Day Nineteen: Kris Kringle (Part One)

Day Nineteen: Kris Kringle (Part Two)

Day Twenty: Party

Day Twenty-One: Baking

Day Twenty-Two: Carols

Day Twenty-Three: Santa Claus

Day Twenty-Four: Christmas Eve

Day Twenty-Five: Christmas Morning (Part One)

Day Twenty-Five: Christmas Morning (Part Two)

Day Twenty-Six: Leftovers

Day Twenty-Seven: Candles

#spnxmasprompts #destiel #destiel fic #deancas fic #fix it fic

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sarah-aliterarylife · 2 years ago

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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte - independence, perfect novels and notes in the margin

On reflection, there was only ever one novel with which to begin this journey: Emily Bronte’s sprawling, gothic masterpiece Wuthering Heights.

Wuthering Heights marks the beginning of my lifelong love affair with literature, my fascination with gothic novels, and the first truly adult book I read. Essentially, it marks the moment when I became an adult. I read Wuthering Heights for the first time a few weeks shy of my 17th birthday – it was the first text on my A Level English Literature course. My dog-eared, battered copy of Wuthering Heights is the most valuable item I own. Not valuable in a monetary sense – it probably came from the Reader’s Digest, or a now-defunct high street bookshop like Ottakar’s – but in terms of emotional value, my wrinkled old copy means more to me than any other book I own. One day it will fall apart completely, and it will be the end of an era. The novel was a gift from my grandmother, a tiny, red-haired lady who loved books, Brookside and crossword puzzles. I had never read a single page of it until the day I began my English Literature course. I was always slightly afraid of it, doubting my own intelligence and believing that such a lengthy tome would be too much for my teenage brain. I could not have been more wrong. I loved it and devoured every word, sometimes reading ahead of the chapters we were assigned to read for the class, simply because I could not wait to find out what happened next.

My copy is very well-thumbed and is peppered throughout with my notes in the margin, underlined sentences, footnotes and this sombre warning - “there is a ghost scene in this chapter”. Re-reading the notes of that studious young girl fascinates me, and subsequent readings have often taken longer than intended!

Wuthering Heights is essentially a story of two families – the Earnshaws of Wuthering Heights and the Linton family of Thrushcross Grange. The novel is told in flashback, late at night over a roaring fire to the current tenant of Thrushcross Grange, Mr Lockwood, by the housekeeper, Nelly Dean. Nelly recounts the story of Catherine Earnshaw, the youngest child of the Earnshaw family, and Heathcliff, a foundling adopted by Mr Earnshaw, Catherine’s father. Cathy and Heathcliff share an intense bond that never moves beyond friendship, despite their passion for each other. Believing that his feelings for Cathy are not reciprocated, Heathcliff leaves Wuthering Heights and Cathy marries Edgar Linton of neighbouring Thrushcross Grange. Years later, Heathcliff returns as a rich man, to exact vengeance. I will not spoil the climactic tragedy in Chapter 16 that precedes the second half of the novel, but suffice to say that true love does not conquer all on the wily, windy moors.

Wuthering Heights is often characterised as a novel about love. It isn’t. It is a novel about relationships – the relationships between families, with those we love, those we hate, with the people who care for us and with whom we share an unbreakable bond, whether we desire that bond or not. Many of the themes covered are universal and have been felt by many of us during our lives: the pain of unrequited love, discrimination, powerlessness, the depressing notion of loving a person who is neither a good person nor a kind one, whom we love in spite of their faults. I found it interesting that in Andrea Arnold’s 2011 film version of Wuthering Heights, Heathcliff is portrayed by a black actor, which only serves to highlight his alienation in the context of 19th century Yorkshire.

Wuthering Heights is one of the few novels where I did not actively seek out a film version. The imagery of the moors that is so central to the events of the novel, and the vibrant personalities who populate it, that I had created in my head, are so real to me, and so perfect, that no film or television series could ever truly do it justice. Many adaptations ignore the second half of the book entirely, which to me is a bit like buying an album and only listening to the singles. The only adaptation that ever comes close to a strong interpretation is ITV’s two-part series with Tom Hardy as Heathcliff and his wife Charlotte Riley as Cathy. Because let’s face it, Tom Hardy was born to play Heathcliff, wasn’t he? But even that adaptation changed the ending. I felt like throwing the remote at the television. I steered clear of Wuthering Heights on screen after that.

Another common misconception about Wuthering Heights is that it is a difficult novel to read. I personally did not find this to be the case (although I accept that the first time I read it, I was studying it at school, which helps a great deal in terms of understanding the language, themes, and imagery). The complexity of Wuthering Heights is due to its structure. The novel essentially begins at the end, which can be confusing for a first-time reader. The first character we meet is an outsider, and unrelated to the main protagonists. The first few chapters present the reader with a mystery – who is Heathcliff, the brusque landlord of Thrushcross Grange, and who are the surly occupants of Wuthering Heights? The ghost scene in Chapter 3 is when the story really begins, which requires patience of the reader. The narrator changes several times. The main plot meanders and we revert to a story within a story on several occasions – for example, Isabella Linton’s tale of her marriage to Heathcliff and its subsequent breakdown, or the story of Heathcliff’s grim night in the churchyard at nearby Gimmerton. There are numerous characters across the Earnshaw and Linton families, and I can understand how the notion of two Catherines (the older Catherine Earnshaw and her daughter, Catherine Linton, who features heavily in the novel’s second half) could be confusing. Indeed, a stage production I once saw had them both played by the same actress, which only added to the confusion.

Like any great love, Wuthering Heights has the power to frustrate the reader – we witness too little of Heathcliff’s courtship of Isabella Linton for it to be truly believable when they elope (although the Tom Hardy adaptation does attempt to rectify this), and don’t get me started on Mr. Lockwood – but, frustrations aside, it is as close to a perfect novel as it is possible to be. I believe that it is the greatest work of literature in the English language. What is even more incredible is that it was written by the enigmatic Emily Bronte, who published Wuthering Heights under the pseudonym Ellis Bell. She never married, had worked briefly as a governess at nearby High Sunderland Hall (this time in her life is rumored to have inspired the events of Wuthering Heights), and never left the Bronte parsonage at Haworth, Yorkshire. How did a novel of such power and passion originate? Even more incredibly, it is believed to have been written in just under a year. If I had the gift of time travel, I would dearly love to spend a day at the Haworth Parsonage with Emily Bronte, picking her brain. Where did the inspiration for Wuthering Heights come from? Was a second masterpiece on the horizon? (Letters from her publisher towards the end of her life indicate that it was, but no manuscripts exist) Of course, we will never know the answer to either question. Emily Bronte died from tuberculosis on 19th December 1848, aged 30 years old.

Each time I re-read Wuthering Heights and revisit all those notes and underlined passages, I see a young girl who craved independence. I had finally broken away from a bad relationship and was moving on with my life by immersing myself in friends and schoolwork. I was looking to the future, and I knew that I needed to do well at school to get the grades to go to university. I had recently taken my first part time job, and was saving money at a frantic pace, to earn enough to start my adult life. I badly wanted to move out of my parent’s home and find a place of my own. I wanted to begin building my own life and making my own decisions. I see in those notes the signs of someone focused on the future, someone who was working hard to achieve their goals. I wish I could go back and tell her that everything will be ok. To bide her time, continue to work hard, and everything she is looking for will fall into place. Her time will come, perhaps not immediately, but she will find what she is looking for.

Wuthering Heights and its violent passions would go on to shape my life, my beliefs about love, hate, gender roles, and class for decades. It taught me that everyone has a dark side. Everyone, even the most virtuous amongst us, is capable of cruelty. It taught me that it is possible to sympathize with a villainous man (Heathcliff), or with a selfish, vain woman (Cathy), and even worse, root for them to find happiness together. It taught me that not every love receives its happy ending, that love has the power to make us whole, or to destroy us completely.

It is a life changing experience to read Wuthering Heights for the first time. Which brings me to the final lesson it taught me - the joy of a book that is so good, it is impossible to put it down. And that is something I have searched for ever since.

#wuthering heights #emily bronte #classic novels #book blogs #book review #books and literature

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decadentpaperduck · 2 years ago

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siiiince you're accepting eddie requests i figured i'd ask for a hurt/comfort where eddie survives after the events of vol 2 but it like really freaked the reader out so he just kinda assures her that he's okay and it's fluffy hehe

ilysm tj!!

1.2k of ramble status fluff?? It's not perfect, it is in fact my first Eddie Focused Thing!! So, let's hope there's more and I can get some practice in?? Warning: Blood, fluff (what a mix?? hahaha), friends to lovers and ily too elia!

Eddie begged you to stay behind. He told you it wasn’t your fight, wasn’t your problem. You’d forced a laugh when he confessed he barely wanted to go. Your sweet best friend, whose strong suit was not confrontation. He wanted a simple life. A contrast to a chaotic childhood.

But this fight was different. It was his chance to save Hawkins with the help of one of his best friends, and maybe some new ones. They were going to put things right. He was going to put things right.

You let him go. But you demanded you were allowed to guard the gate. He relented, of course he did, he couldn’t say no to a face like that. You called it a compromise, exchanging a pinky promise with a grin. “You can’t come with us, but you can guard the gate.” Part of him relished extracting something fun from such a sombre scenario.

“Deal.” The promise ended in a hug. A rare ending for a pinky promise. But it felt apt.

You had, however, underestimated the agony of faintly hearing everything and seeing virtually nothing, whilst standing at the gate.

You smile softly, with faint glimmer of pride as he plays the guitar. It’s bitter-sweet as you realise he has just declared himself bait. You begin to think they should have debriefed you a bit more on the plan.

Pain ruminates through your skull as your furrowed brow causes you a headache. You faintly see blurred shapes pass over the gate. You swallow your fear. You wonder how Eddie feels, you hope he’s not too scared. Henderson brings out the best in him. When the song stops, you hold your breath. There is a drawn out deafening silence and your stomach churns.

Your pacing around the haphazardly-tied-together sheets, dangling from the Upside Down. Eddie never said anything about coming after him.

By the time you have run over every possible turn out, every eventuality, you hear Dustin scream. Your heart drops. He doesn’t just scream. He screams for Eddie. Your heart is racing as you wonder about the other, indistinguishable, warbled noises. Your chest heaves. Tears are in your eyes. You can hear the suffering.

“He wasn’t made for this.” You whisper. He was a solitary creature, he was a sensitive soul. The idea that something has happened is causing panic to run like an electrical current through your veins. It’s painful, but its pumping adrenaline around your body.

The world seems to stop as you see Eddie and Dustin in the image of the gate above you. Dustin is holding him up, he is bleeding. The gasp that leaves your body is low and almost causes you to choke. “Get up here. Now!” You rush to put the mattress down on the floor and clear the surrounding space.

Time seems to go so slowly as you rush around the trailer to find something for the blood. The commotion of Eddie and Dustin trying to get back to the real Hawkins is clashing with the noise you’re making in a bid to source the First Aid Supplies.

As you wrap your hands around some lame bandages, you turn around to see Eddie on the mattress and Dustin beside him on the floor. They are armed with less than they went in with. Your heart aches.

You rush to the other side of Eddie.”What happened?” You look over his body. He’s shaking. “Dustin, find me a towel! A clean one.” A laugh sneaks past Eddie’s lips amongst his tears. “Don’t laugh! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?” His famous expressive eye brows melt your panicked persona.

“Eddie.” Your voice wobbles. Your face is wet. You hold his hand and place on your heart, beating at least seven times faster than the average heart rate. You close your eyes and miss his stunning smile. He resists the urge to make a comment as Dustin leaps into action.

“Two towels, both hopefully clean, one wet, one dry.” You open your eyes and blink away the tears.

“Right. Thanks Dustin.” You try to breath evenly as you take the wet towel from him and dab away at Eddie’s wounds gently. Eddie watches with admiration and hope.

Dustin follows her actions, mopping up the blood, a gruesome watercolour. Eddie flinches at the dry towel, its texture unwelcome against the drying blood. He grimaces but he pushes through. For you.

You can’t sit still. You’re dabbing, wiping, cleaning, getting water, pacing. You are worried nothing you do will be enough.

Your breathing is still outrageously laboured as Eddie is positioned upright on the couch, a bandage round his middle, the situation a lot calmer than it was moments before. You fold your arms and gaze at him from the doorway. Dustin nudges your side.

You take the hint and approach Eddie. You slowly sit beside him, taking care not to move the couch too much. “Hey.” You utter softly. Dustin retreats to the other room. He is beat.

“Hey.” His hand covers yours as it rest on the sofa, palm down. “Am I that scary?” You laugh and shake your head, looking down at your hands together. His, dirty, yours lightly stained with his blood. “I did it.” He whispers.

“You did it.” You match his volume and his enthusiasm equally. “God, Eddie are you going to be okay?” Your face contorts, tears returning.

“Of course. Look at me. I’m unstoppable.” Those eyes of his were gleaming with the emotion of it all.

“That you are.” He picks up the hand he covers, and places it on his heart, emulating your earlier action. You smile gently. “Feel that?” You nod. “It’s beating pretty quick huh?” The edge of his mouth lifts up. “That’s a sick man.” You frown and lean forward, searching his body for extra wounds or bleeds. “No, no!” He laughs. “Love sick.” You look up into his eyes and your whole body seems to relax for the first time in days. “I had to make it out.”

“You’re so cheesy, Munson.”

“Hey!” He raises his voice sightly and pouts, dropping your hand. “You did it first.”

“Oh Eddie.” You bring your hand up to his face but before you can touch him, he seizes your hand in his once again. He kisses your hand with his eyes closed.

“Oh you.” He murmurs against your hand. “I will never get enough of these healing hands, babe.” You flush as the pet name, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before.

“I can’t believe your kissing my hand before you’re kissing me.” You roll your eyes and before you can laugh, he pulls you into him, millimetres from your lips.

“My mistake, my lady.” You giggle at his eccentricity, as always, and he muffles your laughter with a kiss. Your eyes flutter closed and he strokes his fingertips up your arms, making you shiver. He breaks away first with a smile.

“I almost lost you.” Your foreheads are pressed together. “And I never told you-”

“Hey.” His finger ghosts against your lips. “You did.” He smiles and moves to stroke your hair. “Just not with words. I should have been watching out more.”

“Thanks to me, we have a bit more time to say it.”

“We do.” The pause is warm and wonderful.

“I love you Eddie.”

“I love you.”

And you share another gentle kiss in the artificial glow of Eddie Munson’s trailer. Awaiting the return of his friends. Relishing in the surge of love.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #spoilers #stranger things spoilers #fluff #blood #love #friends to lovers #emo #request

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michaelmilligan · 2 years ago

Text

Build-a-twink

(Read on AO3)

(Based on this post)

Adam resettled on the couch, then squirmed and shifted again. Hugging the pillow tighter, he turned half his face into it so only one of his eyes was free to look at the TV screen.

On said screen, a man who had been presumed dead was currently reuniting with his family and lover.

Adam? Michael said, more tentative than usual. Are you alright?

When he raised his head off the pillow, Adam saw Michael's projection standing next to the couch, the perfect mirror of himself in some ways, but not in so many others. For one, Michael wasn't wearing pyjama bottoms and a soft t-shirt, but his usual get-up. Jeans, a black t-shirt and the black jacket that Adam had eventually convinced him to don instead of the butt-ugly green one. His hair was also decidedly less messy than Adam's currently was, after hugging the pillow.

And of course, the way he held himself and just the way he looked, his facial expressions – that was so undeniably Michael that Adam sometimes forgot that they technically looked the same. When he'd first had access to mirrors again after the cage, Adam had often been surprised at his own reflection. Wondering who that dude impersonating Michael (and doing a poor job at it) was.

“Adam?” Michael asked, this time in the voice that sounded like it came from outside Adam's body, though of course in reality it didn't.

“Sorry, yeah.” Adam sat up a little. “I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael frowned down at where Adam was now clutching the pillow to his stomach.

“Sure.” Adam hugged the pillow even tighter.

Casually, or at least pretending to be so, Michael moved his head towards the TV. “The movie is a happy one.”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. When he glanced at the screen, the reunion scene was over, all hugs given and done with.

Adam's grip around the pillow relaxed a little.

“Did it upset you... because you had no one to return to?” Michael asked sombrely, without looking at Adam.

“What?” Adam blinked at him, needing a moment to process what he'd said. “Oh, dude, no! I'm not sad about that.”

Admittedly, it had been a bit difficult to return to Earth but not have any family or friends there. It had felt like when he'd visited Windom only to find that his house had been renovated and strangers had moved in. An empty, lonely feeling, filled with longing for something that would never come back.

And then, later, when he'd woken up at that lake without Michael... But that was in the past, and Michael was back now.

For a moment, Michael said nothing, and just sat down on the couch next to him. Just when Adam thought he'd evaded that conversation, Michael said: “But you are sad.”

“I'm fine.”

Michael gave him a look. “You're hugging that pillow like it's going to run away if you let go. And the way you're pulling your legs against yourself means that you-”

Adam groaned. “I know what it means, Dr. Phil.” Huffing, he stretched his legs out, and put the pillow next to him on the couch. The knot in his stomach didn't ease, though. “Happy now?”

“No.” Michael kept looking at him sternly. “I didn't learn your human mannerisms just for you to pretend they don't mean anything.”

“Oh, that's what you're worried about, huh?” Adam teased him, but Michael didn't rise to it, knowing he wasn't serious.

“Adam,” he just said again.

“Alright, fine.” Adam sighed and looked down at where the hand of Michael's projection was resting on the couch. It wasn't solid, Adam knew that, didn't actually touch the couch and couldn't touch him – and yet, he itched to reach out and take it. “But it's stupid.”

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically. “Spit it out.”

Instead of an answer, Adam gave into the urge and traced one finger over the edge of Michael's hand. There was nothing there, Michael's 'body' just a projection he tricked Adam's brain into seeing.

“I know we're as close as two people could ever be,” Adam eventually said, “but... sometimes I wish I could touch you.”

Michael was silent. Adam withdrew his hand.

“Sorry. I told you it's stupid.”

“You never said anything in the cage.”

“Things were different down there. We were mostly trying to survive, to distract ourselves and each other. And the way we existed down there was wonky anyway. Sometimes you were your true form, sometimes you looked like me... But now...” Adam looked away. “We're out, we're safe, and...”

“And you're human, so you want human forms of companionship,” Michael concluded, a touch of disappointment in his voice.

“No! I mean... yeah, kinda?” Adam sighed. “I don't know. I just wish... never mind.”

“You could have that,” Michael said, a strange wobble in his voice.

Adam's eyes snapped up to his face. “What?”

“I could... give you some room... go to Heaven for a bit,” Michael said, frowning and not looking Adam in the eyes.

“What? W- why would you leave?”

The bewilderment on Michael's face would have been endearing if Adam hadn't been feeling the same.

“You want human companionship,” he said slowly. “If I leave, you can go and find that. I mean... technically you could do that while I'm here, but that might be weird.”

“No! What are you talking about? I don't want that if it's not with you!”

Michael blinked at him.

“Sorry, that... that came out weird.” Adam blushed and fiddled with a string that had come loose on the pillow several days earlier. “Just.. I don't want you to leave. I want you here, only... more tangible. But I get that it's not really possi-”

“How often?”

“Huh?”

“How often do you wish you could touch me, physically?” Michael asked.

“It's fine. Don't worry about it. Really, I'm just being silly. Like, you're literally inside me and your grace is all around my soul and stuff, all of the time,” Adam babbled, not wanting Michael to think that he didn't understand, or that he didn't value what they had. “If we were human- both human, I mean, it would be like we'd be sitting on top of each other all the time and-”

“Adam.” Michael's voice was calm, but clear and determined. “How often?”

Adam squirmed on the couch. Glanced at Michael, then averted his eyes again. “Every day, lately. But it's fine, I'll get over it, and we don't have to change any-”

“Adam.” Michael fixed him with a look. “You do know we can do that, right? I can get a different vessel.”

“No.” Adam flushed. The thought of Michael being inside of someone else – just no. “I don't want that, you... you'd be puppeteering some poor bastard, and then what? Would you let him out all the time? Would he be watching everything we do? Would-”

Would Michael have an agreement with him, too?

When Adam finally looked back at him, Michael's expression was soft.

“I don't want that either – to share a body with someone else.” He frowned. “Maybe there's a way... but to possess someone, I need their consent, and that means there has to be a soul present...”

“I know.” Adam reached out again, then pulled his hand away when he noticed what he was doing. “Look, I know this isn't gonna work. You can't just make yourself solid and neither of us wants you to possess someone else. It's fine. I can handle it.”

“Maybe there's still a way. I can ask Raphael,” Michael offered, but Adam shook his head.

“You don't have to. It's alright.”

Sometimes, Michael 'left for work', which meant he stopped possessing Adam to go help out in Heaven. The phrasing had started as a joke, but as time went on, they had used it less and less ironically.

Whenever this happened, Adam needed a moment to re-adjust. After running on archangel juice for so long, the transition to being mostly human again was always jarring.

It had its perks, though. For one, Adam could sleep again. And everything tasted even better when you were just a little bit hungry or thirsty. It was also somehow easier to relate to other people again when you couldn't travel great distances in the blink of an eye and had to actually do something to maintain your body.

It was still a taxing process. Usually, after Michael left his body but before going to Heaven, he would wait to see if Adam was alright. It was the same this day – Michael hovering nearby, all blinding light and churning heat, a myriad of eyes all fixed on Adam as he blinked his own eyes open.

“I'm fine. Go,” Adam said, sluggishly waving a hand.

Michael slow-blinked at him with all his eyes, an affirmation or maybe a sign of trust or both, before he vanished into the ether.

Then, Adam was alone, and he took a moment to process that fact, too. In addition to the physical change, there was also a mental adjustment, since he was suddenly alone in his own head. That was always more unsettling than he would have liked, though ultimately he could calm himself with the knowledge that he only needed to pray to Michael to be heard.

While Michael couldn't always react immediately to his babbling, since the connection only ran one way and he couldn't just drop everything to come back when Adam prattled about his day, it still made Adam feel like he wasn't alone.

That day, it was somehow easier, though. There was still the tell-tale emptiness in the spot around his heart – his soul – where Michael's grace usually sat, but it was easier to handle. Adam imagined he was the housewife (or househusband in this case) of a rich corporate type who let him live in his shiny expensive apartment and spoiled him wherever he could, but spent long hours at work. (None of which was too far off the mark.)

Adam started humming at that, and then he turned on the radio they'd bought for the kitchen. While Adam could have gotten a Bluetooth speaker to connect with his phone or something, that just didn't feel right. In his youth, the radio had been Adam's friend in the many lonely hours when his mom hadn't been home. Now, it was his friend again when Michael was gone.

They also listened to it together, sometimes, though Michael always got annoyed when the music stopped and people started talking. Adam found it soothing, and interesting, but he would sometimes change the station when the news came on, or when Michael grumbled too much.

Now, he just let the radio play, choosing a rock station as he pulled ingredients out of cupboards. It would be blueberry pancakes today, he decided, and stooped to get a mixing bowl from below the counter.

There would be orange juice and coffee to go with that, just like he always got in Cousin Oliver's Diner when his mom and him had gone there for breakfast.

They'd gotten fresh oranges the day before, when they'd stocked up for Michael being gone. Adam didn't always trust himself to go for groceries right afterwards, so it was better to do it before.

As Adam prepared his pancakes, he whistled along to the radio. Later, he ate on the balcony, then stayed outside in the sun, sipping his coffee.

There were books afterwards, and games. Gabriel had gotten him a Switch at some point, for whatever reason. Raphael said it had been an offering of peace towards Michael after they'd had a fight, and since Michael neither needed anything material nor would have been likely to accept anything, it had gone to Adam.

Not that he minded. Being able to play Pokémon again was kind of fun, and he had quickly found out that there were a lot of cool games for the Switch. Michael was only all too eager to get him anything he wanted, so Adam now had a whole shelf full of those slim boxes with the tiny cartridges.

He mostly played them when he was alone, though sometimes Michael liked to watch. He'd helped choose names for the animals on their farm in Story of Seasons, and had insisted that they call it 'Milligan Farm'. He also had a lot of ideas on how to optimize the use of their in-game days, to the point where Adam was basically just acting out his directions.

Maybe he should just let Michael play it directly. Though he might deny that he liked it.

In any case, Adam left that one for when Michael was back, and instead fired up Diablo III. He could play that for hours – and he did, only realizing how long it had been when he realized it was dark.

Sighing, he put down the game to fix himself dinner, then played a bit more until he felt sleep tugging at him.

It was weird, feeling exhaustion again, but there was also something incredibly relieving about it.

Despite everything, he was still human.

There had been a time when that had scared him, when he'd first woken up on the shore of that lake, with Michael gone and no one giving him straight answers about what had happened. Everything had seemed scary then, even just walking and talking to people. Now, Adam felt more secure, though that might be because he had a place to stay, safely warded against demons and most angels.

You couldn't ward against hunters, which was unfortunate because Adam really would have liked to keep Sam and Dean out permanently. Then again, it wasn't like they contacted him often.

Adam rarely left the apartment while Michael was gone, though he was working his way up to it with occasional trips to the local farmer's market. (Michael always insisted that fruits and vegetables should be fresh, and the ones from the supermarket spoiled much quicker than the others. Sometimes, Adam suspected Michael was partly responsible for that, though it also happened when he was gone, so probably not.)

The next few days passed with more games, reading and a stop by Adam's favourite coffee shop. (It had a latte with amaretto, chocolate and cherry syrup that was to die for.)

Adam had just started the washing machine so he could wear his favourite shirt again when he felt the familiar presence of an archangel descending, the room suddenly beginning to glow.

“Hey Michael,” he said, and the windows rattled in response. “Come on in.”

Possession was... a lot. When an archangel poured his being into a tiny little human, it was bound to be a tight fit, and it felt like Adam might burst from the light and the heat, more and more of it coming where there should have been no space left anymore.

It was a lot, and it was painful and glorious at the same time, almost orgasmic. Michael always huffed when Adam used that word, and it wasn't like either of them was usually aroused when it happened, but the sensory overload did come close.

A mind fuck, Adam sometimes called it jokingly, just so Michael would roll all of his eyes in exasperation.

“Hey there,” Adam said happily when it was done, feeling Michael's grace swirl around his soul and settle within him.

Hi, Michael said. How have you been?

Adam had only prayed to him once or twice to let Michael know he was doing alright. He hadn't wanted to disturb him while he spent time with his siblings and worked in Heaven, but Michael was always anxious about Adam's well-being.

“I'm good. Lost against Arkanine again, but I think I'm getting better. What about you? Any news in Heaven?”

“Well, you know Heaven,” Michael said, using his projection. “There's always something new these days.”

He shook his head, probably thinking about how it had been quite the opposite for most of his life, Heaven being unmutable. Then again, so had the angels been, with some notable exceptions. That was a thing of the past now, and as its residents had changed, so had Heaven.

It was an ecosystem, after all, where everything was connected in a very literal sense. Angels hadn't been supposed to be individuals, but part of something bigger. Except that the whole concept was flawed since it had been based on beings who had been created one after the other, some before Heaven had even existed.

“They're trying the shared Heavens on a larger scale now. There were some hiccups, but they've mostly sorted them out, and are currently creating a system to connect the shared Heavens to each other without it being too confusing. Right now, there are only about half a dozen shared Heavens, but if they really roll this out for all souls, there will probably be millions, if not more, so there needs to be a way for the humans to navigate between them without getting lost.” Michael shrugged. “It's a daunting project, to say the least, especially without any God.”

Adam nodded. While Jack had taken on his grand-father's powers and job at one point, they'd put it down again after a few months. Stabilizing Heaven had been a top priority, and after that, the remodelling of Heaven didn't seem to require a God anymore.

Besides, being mostly all-knowing and all-powerful had weighed on the kid, and they hadn't wanted to do it anymore. So they'd split the power between several people as well as Earth itself, and Jack had stepped down.

They were still involved with the construction work, just not as the leader anymore. There was an angel council, nowadays, decided on in an actual election. Castiel, Gabriel and Raphael were all on it – Adam didn't know what it said about angels that they'd elected those who had run, or tried to run Heaven before, plus the other remaining archangel on the ballot.

Maybe they were the best for the job, or maybe the angels still needed to learn how to think for themselves. Whichever it was, Adam was sure it would work itself out over time.

Michael seemed thoughtful, and Adam chalked it up to him still contemplating Heaven. But then he said, somewhat nervously: “There's something else. I talked to Raphael.”

Adam looked at him in confusion. “Okay?”

Michael talked to Raphael all the time, and he wasn't usually so careful about telling him. So what was this? Would Michael be needed again soon? Was he just stopping by to tell Adam that it would take longer?

What if it would take a lot longer, or if he had agreed to go back to Heaven permanently, after all-

“Adam,” Michael said soothingly, “it's nothing bad, I promise.”

Adam blushed, having been caught spiralling again.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and felt Michael curl more tightly around his soul, letting him know that he wasn't going anywhere.

“It's about what you said a few days ago. Wanting to touch me?”

Adam blushed even more deeply, but nodded. When he said it like that, it sounded almost inappropriate...

“I talked to Raphael – well, and Gabriel – about it and there might be a solution. One where I don't need to share a body with someone else.”

Adam felt his eyes widen as his heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Yes. It's... unconventional, and we're not entirely sure if it will work, but I think it's worth a shot.”

“Well? Are you gonna tell me what it is?” Adam asked, then listened carefully as Michael explained.

It was unconventional, or more like a little crazy, but then again Adam had been living with an archangel in his head for more than ten – or one-thousand – years, so crazy was pretty much his normal now.

“Good morning!” Gabriel said as he sauntered into the apartment, Raphael, Jack and two more people in tow.

“It's the middle of the afternoon, Gabriel,” Michael chastised him, and frowned at the two people Adam didn't recognize. “What are they doing here?”

“If you may remember, Adam was the first and last person for whom this was done successfully,” Raphael said calmly.

Adam?

Adam and Serafina, Michael said, the first man and his angel trait- I mean bi- I mean lover.

Wow, old habits really die hard, huh, Adam commented. If she's a traitor and a bitch, then what are you?

Shutting the hell up is what I am, Michael grumbled, and concentrated outwards again.

“He didn't do it himself, so what use will he be?” he asked Raphael.

Adam – the biblical one – raised an eyebrow, as if to indicate that he was right there, thank you very much.

“He's moral support,” Gabriel answered. “Now can we start? I have a date in two hours.”

A date? Adam asked curiously. Do you know who he's-

No, and I really don't want to know, Michael said decisively.

Spoil sport.

“Why did you schedule a date for today?” the Biblical Adam asked, with the air of a man commenting on the weather, not discussing time management and love matters with an archangel.

“Well, the date was scheduled before this whole thing.” Gabriel gestured between the people in the room. “And you don't exactly cancel on the Queen of Hell.”

Everyone stared at him except for Raphael, who just let out a long-suffering sigh.

“We should get started,” they said dryly, and everyone stepped closer, gathering in a circle.

“Are we going to do it like we discussed?” Jack asked, the first time they had spoken since entering.

“Yes.” Michael nodded, and pulled out his angel blade.

Serafina twitched, which was interesting – her vessel didn't move, but her wings did, and there was a displeased ripple in her grace. The Biblical Adam just frowned at the blade while everyone else looked at Michael expectantly.

Look away, Michael told Adam.

No way. If you're gonna fillet our chest, I'm gonna watch.

Michael sighed. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.

He pulled up their t-shirt, revealing naked skin underneath, then put the angel blade against their ribs. With a quick, but deep cut that he barely let Adam feel, he opened up their rip cage.

Then he shoved a hand inside.

Geez, this is like a saw movie or something, Adam commented. It was a bit odd seeing that on himself, feeling Michael's hand rummaging inside of him until he got a solid grip on a rib.

A quick twist of the wrist, and then Michael pulled the rib out of Adam's body.

Whew. That sure is something. Adam was looking at the rib in fascination, the pre-med student in him trying to figure out which one it was while another part of him flinched at the thought that this had come out of his body.

For anyone else, the thought of losing a rib would have been distressing. Just as he was thinking about that, though, Michael already healed their wounds.

Re-growing the rib would take a few more minutes, since Michael wanted it to be as painless as possible for Adam. So Michael handed the bloody rib over to Raphael, who huddled together with Gabriel and Jack to start the process.

Then Michael sat down on the couch and waited until the rib was complete again.

Will you be alright if I go now? He eventually asked.

Yeah, of course. Adam nudged him with his soul. Have fun at Build-a-body.

A ripple of amusement washed from Michael to Adam before he separated from him, grace uncoiling from soul to leave his body again.

When he was gone, Adam felt bleary for a moment. He only realized his eyes were closed when he felt, but didn't see, a hand on his leg. Blinking his eyes open again, he saw Serafina kneeling in front of him.

He could still see her wings and grace, he realized in fascination, even though Michael wasn't possessing him.

“You okay, kid?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Adam said, and craned his neck to check what the others were doing. But he couldn't really make anything out except a bright glow and the vague outlines of Michael's true form between Raphael, Gabriel and Jack.

He could see their wings and grace too. Interesting.

He didn't usually spend time around angels without Michael present, so he hadn't known that he could see them like this on his own. Maybe a side-effect of the long possession. He didn't think he'd seen Zachariah like this, only remembered the sleezy-looking business man they guy had been possessing at the time.

“Must be a first,” Adam's namesake said, coming to sit next to him on the couch. “An angel making himself a body from someone's rib.”

“Aren't we all ultimately made from your rib? Eve was made that way, right?” Adam countered.

The other Adam smiled sadly. “Yes, she was.”

Adam suddenly wondered what had become of her. While Michael had told him about an Eve, the Mother of Monsters, he had been very clear that this was not the Biblical Eve. Apparently, there had been an earlier Eve, made even before the first angel was created.

At one point, Adam had wondered what it said about God that he had created monsters before angels. Now, knowing all that he had done, Adam was pretty sure he knew what it meant.

Adam wouldn't ask about Eve. It wasn't any of his business, and besides, you don't ask about someone's ex or dead wife in front of their current girlfriend.

“How long do you think it will take?” he asked Serafina instead. Since she was an angel, he figured she might have an idea.

But she just shrugged. “I wasn't there when Eve was created and besides, no one here is God. So... anything between ten minutes and forty days, I guess.”

Adam made a face. Forty days? It wouldn't take that long, right?

“What she's saying is that your guess is as good as any,” the Biblical Adam told him, leaning his arms on the back of the couch. “Hey, while we wait... you don't happen to have any... herbage, do you?”

Adam looked at him for a moment. “I'm guessing you don't mean basil.”

The Biblical Adam laughed. Huh. The first man, a stoner.

Well, he'd had to deal with this world's bullshit for a long time, so maybe that shouldn't have been a surprise.

“Alright!” Gabriel suddenly said, and Adam turned to see him take a step back to regard his work. He was still blocking Adam's view, and Raphael was still leaning in and seemingly fussing about some detail. But it seemed like they'd be done soon.

When Jack's eyes stopped glowing, Raphael stepped back too, the specifics apparently straightened out now.

“May I present to you,” Gabriel said dramatically, whirling around to face Adam, “in a brand-new vessel, coming to you from that guy's rib-”

Gabriel gestured to Adam, but was interrupted both by a sigh from Raphael and by Michael pushing past him.

“For fuck's sake, Gabriel,” he grumbled, and Adam's eyes widened at the first sight of him.

When Michael's eyes met his, they turned soft, and they just looked at each other for a long moment.

Into the silence in the room, Serafina suddenly said: “Why does he look the exact same?”

Adam blinked. Yes, Michael looked like him, safe for the clothes and the way his hair was styled. (Michael liked their new hair-cut on Adam, but not on himself.) Adam hadn't even noticed, or rather, he'd expected him to look that way – the same as his projection.

“The clothes are a nice touch,” the Biblical Adam commented. “Eve didn't have clothes, at first. Well, neither did I at that point.”

“We need to monitor the situation in case the vessel isn't sturdy enough, but at least the possession worked. As we theorized, a body made specifically for an archangel, out of the rib of a man who previously consented to possession, can work,” Raphael said, like a doctor talking about the medical break-through of a complicated surgery that had never been attempted before.

Well, it was kind of like that, in a way. Michael had been transplanted into a different body, one that archangels (and an archangelic nephil) had first built themselves.

Still not fully processing everything, Adam got up from the couch and took a step towards Michael. This felt surreal.

A part of him was afraid that if he reached out, he still wouldn't be able to touch Michael.

But then Michael closed the distance and took his hand, and Adam's heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” Michael said softly.

Adam couldn't have kept down his smile if he'd wanted to. “Hey,” he replied, feeling the warmth of Michael's hand against his.

“Uh, does anyone else hear a swelling string orchestra?” Gabriel asked, only to get nudged in the ribs by Raphael.

“Seriously, why does he look like him?” Serafina whispered. Adam heard it, but he wasn't going to look away from Michael to reply. “It's weird. And I thought they made the separate body so the kid didn't have to bother with him anymore, but now they're holding hands?”

“I'm not leaving Adam's side,” Michael said, loud enough for the whole room to hear, but also not looking away from Adam.

Good, Adam thought, squeezing his hand.

They'd never touched like this, couldn't have done that, but somehow it felt natural, like the translation of what their grace and soul often did to this new situation. This was what Adam had wanted. It felt amazing, and the possibility of more – a hug, maybe – almost made him dizzy.

“Perhaps we should leave, and let them... adjust,” Raphael said.

“Didn't you say you want to monitor him?” Gabriel asked, surprised.

“They can always pray to us if anything happens. We shouldn't hover.” With that, Raphael was gone – out of the corners of his eyes, Adam saw them leave, then re-appear and take a protesting Gabriel with them.

“Oh. Then we should leave too,” Jack said, and nodded at Serafina. Within a few seconds, and with Serafina's hand on the Biblical Adam's shoulder, they were all gone.

It was just Michael and Adam now. They kept looking at each other, until Michael's eyes dropped to their intertwined hands.

“I could get used to this,” he said thoughtfully, letting his thumb trail over the back of Adam's hand. “Though it's a bit weird to be all alone in this body.”

Adam winced, thinking much the same. “Do you think... Could we change back if we wanted?”

Michael's eyes flicked from his chest – where his soul sat – up to his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. “Yes. Gabriel came up with a stasis spell, so we can always put this body to the side.”

“Cool. Then I won't grow old as quickly.” Adam grinned at him. When Michael possessed him, he didn't age. “Can't have me get all grey and wrinkly while you look like the pinnacle of youth.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Good to know you only keep me around for vanity reasons.”

“Oh, shut up.” Adam had the crazy urge to lean in and kiss him. But he caught himself at the last second, just swaying on his feet a little.

“Are you dizzy?” Michael asked, frowning.

“No, just... giddy, I guess.” Adam chuckled. “This is so unreal.”

“On the contrary, it's very real.” Michael put his free hand on Adam's arm, maybe to steady him. It was odd not being able to read his thoughts, but there was also a thrill to it.

And the touch of both of Michael's hands was so warm...

“What did you want to do?” Michael suddenly asked. At Adam's confused expression, he added: “You said you wanted me to touch you. But I didn't exactly ask how you meant that.”

Adam blue-screened for a moment. Judging from the concerned look on Michael's face, he might not actually have been breathing.

“Um,” he then made. “What... what do you want it to mean?”

Michael blinked, looking surprised. Then he blushed.

“Well...”

Adam stared at him, entranced by how cute he looked, all shy like this.

“Well?” he prompted, trying and probably failing to keep a hopeful note from his voice.

Michael shifted on his feet. “Well, I have... some ideas.”

And Adam was content to try them all with him.

#Midam #Yes Adam is a twink there I said it #Body horror cw #It's consensual though!#Adam didn't need that rib anyway #Quick writing

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sabrina-central · 3 years ago

Note

What kind of miraculouses do you think works well with Sabrina besides the dog and bee?

Buckle Up, Buttercup. You know not what hell you hath unleashed.

I can make a case for almost any miraculous.

For example:

I already have an entire post about her with the fox, it should still be one of the leading posts on this blog I think, but that's an easy one!

I'm also quite partial to any villain/Vigilante/Anti Hero Sabrina, so having her as a butterfly that's a lot less stationary or a peacock that's a lot more show offish is another favorite of mine.

I particularly like the idea that she'd be using the butterfly to help people take power back from those who would order them around and treat them unfairly, and rather than abusing Nooroo to do this which would be rather hypocritical, they'd be constantly arguing back and forth about the morality of it all. (Read: an excuse for me to write down the philosophical bullshit debates I have with myself at 3am).

As for the Peacock, she's very emotional and her color scheme already fits, but also the ability to create a creature that has no choice but to obey the orders of whoever is holding it's amok would seriously cause her to question how that's any different from her friendship with Chloe.

The mouse would also make for a great Villain/Anti Hero Sabrina who's mischievous but calculated, although I'm sure @lizard-queen-izzy would be happy to tell you more about that idea. (;

Of course I could go into heavy detail about Black Cat Sabrina, but I already have which is how @fanartfunart 's wonderful depiction of Feline Sombre came to be (please read Fly Away it's so good Sabrina is truly the only thing there I can take even just a little credit for firefly is so fucking talented).

Shameless Plugs aside, since I mentioned the Black Cat I'd be remiss not to point out that as the one who has to come up with and execute all the plans that get Chloe what she wants, Sabrina is quite clever, creative and strategic minded, making her a great candidate for the ladybug miraculous.

And who could forget the ever favourite object of my heart that is Feralbrina?! Featuring Roaar and the tiger miraculous (and this aesthetic also combines two fave headcanons of mine for best girl; she's secretly into some spooky scary stuff but she doesn't go full goth because she doesn't think it'd suit her, and she's not so secretly a hardcore chat stan.

Alternatively, Sabrina extending her willingness to help and her preparation to have just the right thing to get that job done to the rest of her classmates, not just Chloe, as we've been shown she already has a natural inclination to do in startrain, and her overwhelming positivity earns her the pig miraculous.

Admittedly, I don't have as much for Horse and Monkey Sabrina because I don't find it as interesting, but that hasn't stopped me from making AU's where she has those miraculouses and I do think they can fit.

Dragon Sabrina is an au I desprately want to write at some point, where Sabrina takes up fencing, turns out to be amazing at it, catches the attention of D'argencourt, and he decides to personally assure her success, while she decides she liked the look in her opponent's eyes when they know they've lost before they even begun, that she likes winning, her teacher sees a lot of himself and his family legacy in her and soon this all drives a wedge between her and Chloe, but for all the wrong reasons... And then the Dragon Miraculous is stolen.

Snake Sabrina is potentially interesting because you could take it in a lot of directions, but that's also a rather essy one imo.

Rabbit Sabrina would have gotten the miraculous from Alix during timetagger, knowing that between Max cheering on Kim and Marinette being distracted by everything else, Sabrina is currently the only one in control of the braincell, so when Sabrina accidentally fiddles with it and out pops a floating rabbit thing, she obviously freaks out and accidentally drops it, causing the events of the episode to take place, only because Fluff was released he is able to sense everything wrong with the timeline and act as his own rogue agent to fix this, so he approaches the cause of this fractured timeline and explains briefly to her how the miraculous works. She's able to go into the alternate timeline where adult Alix has the miraculous, give the one that was given to younger Alix back to her, and by doing so she should cease to exist, her own timeline corrected - but she doesn't, and so they all realize they're both corrects timelines, and they are now operating on a multiple timelines system, which means shit just got a whole lot more interesting and a hell of a lot more complicated.

Turtle Sabrina is usually also a guardian in my AU's, because Sabrina deserves all the friends and she's very defensive protective over the people she cares for.

I would do the others but we don't know what their powers are yet. (unless I missed or forgot any we've already seen)

Anyway, hope you weren't bored to death by this!

#sabrina raincomprix #miraculous ladybug

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

Text

If I Stay Part One // Luke Patterson

Summary: A beautiful day Luke visits a record store to relive the times he would buy an album, but he finds more than memories. He meets you and a connection blossoms between you two and then Reggie and Alex as well. All is well until Julie discovers something.

Warning: Swearing, talk of death and car accident!

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is based off the movie If I Stay and the movie Charlie St. Cloud. Sorry for not posting sooner, my sister in law along with my three nieces were in a car accident. Thankfully the kids are okay but my sister-in-law in currently in hospital due to minor injuries thus far.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

So, Julie’s life changed dramatically in the lost year and few months, firstly her family lost their mother. Secondly, Julie’s love for music faded until the melody and lyrics were haunting memories. Thirdly, after losing her place in the music program, she had to question her sanity. For in her garage lived three teenage ghosts to her disbelief and horror quite frankly; the ghosts grew on her so much she was in a band with them.

In the hours that Julie was attending school, the boys tended to tour the entire city. They enjoyed seeing the changes that had happened for the two and a half decades. Reggie really enjoyed the western-themed stores, even scaring a little girl with a floating cowboy hat that disappeared once on his head. Alex adored learning about the drastic changes within in the LGBTQ+ community, he had plans for when 2021 LA Pride came in June. Luke, of course, would go anywhere that had music such as music stores, record stores, concert venues and even followed a rock legend once.

“Ooh.” A voice spoke in the record store, “This would be the perfect gift.”

Luke turned to see you gazing at the Rock N’ Roll records with a passion in your eyes and an adorable smile that melted his heart. He couldn’t help but walk closer even if he had no clue if you could see him or not.

“Def Leppard? Definitely one of my favourite bands.” Luke spoke anticipating the usual one-sided conversation. His speculation shattered when you turned to face him with big eyes, “You can see me.”

You nodded your head, pushing your hands into your faded blue jeans glancing around the store, hoping the owner didn’t notice. To your relief the man was oblivious, Luke glanced over before stepping closer.

“You’re alive?”

“Mhm.” You spoke, removing a single hand to play with your burgundy jacket that cinched at the waist to give form. It was open to reveal a plain black shirt that left an inch of your midsection free, “I always wondered if ghosts were real. I got my answer.”

“This is so cool! My friend is the only person that can see my friends and me.” The grin was breathtaking on the teenage ghost. There was a connection between the two that was immediate and intense.

“At least you’re not alone.” You supplied turning to pick up the record, turning it around to read the tracklist. In the end, you decided you didn’t feel like buying it, replacing it you started for the front door.

A college-aged person walked in glued to the screen of the phone not replying as you mentioned a thank you before the door closed. Luke rushed to follow your steady pace in black hiking boots.

“Where are you going?” Luke questioned coming to the same stride as the girl that had taken his attention quickly. His interest had grown when he found he could hold a conversation with her.

“It’s a nice day. I thought I would go for a walk.” You replied, stopping to look around the street with curious eyes. Luke yearned for those eyes to look in his again because he swore he saw a galaxy in them, “Would you like to join me?”

Luke’s head was nodding in response with a new pep in his step as you walked down the street filled with all different kind of stores. Luke recognized Family Living Grocery store as the one that the Molina got their groceries, he and the guys had joined Julie on a trip once. It was one of his worst memories as a ghost, surrounded by snacks and food he couldn’t indulge in.

“So, what’s your story, Caspar?” You questioned stopping to look as at a beautiful dollhouse, “My cousin had one. We actually renovated it a while back for her unborn niece.”

“Caspar?” Luke teased, watching the nostalgia faded from your expression as you continued on the walk. His hazel eyes, greener at the moment, glittered at the different banter he had with you than the guys or Julie.

“Well, I don’t know your name!” You exclaimed turning the corner at a parlour with gorgeous stencilled artwork on the glass.

“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.

“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore. You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his face at the blatant heated gaze.

“No. It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”

One of the few memories that weren’t tainted by the betrayal that Trevor Wilson had gone on to do a year after the tattoo fiasco. It was more than not being credited or his songs being stolen, but it was also that someone he wholeheartedly trusted turned his back on them. Luke frankly didn’t care how Bobby coped after that fateful night. Still, he changed his name and refused any mention of his previous music experience. That hurt a lot.

“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.

“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”

The snicker fell from your mouth before you do anything about it but sobered up quickly in the view of his painful admittance.

“So, you’re seventeen?” You asked crossing when the crosswalk light flickered on. Your attention focused on crossing while listening to the teenager.

“Forever seventeen but I would eighteen physically, but if I had survived I would be forty-three.” Luke mused shoving his hands into his staple black jeans with the chains and his constant accessory of a blue rabbit’s foot.

“Oh, damn. I’ve seventeen as well.” You replied dodging pedestrians before humming a to a song you had heard recently but where you did was unknown. You didn’t want to bump into anyone.

Luke glanced down at his watch, somehow even in death it worked, noticing that it was around the time rehearsal would commence. The thought barely ended before a flash of light preceded Alex’s presence. You slightly jumped in response.

“Luke! Julie’s wondering where you are. We have rehearsal.” Alex was surprised that Luke wasn’t already at the studio. He was always the first one holding his guitar for the rest of them.

One glance at the girl beside Luke cemented a reason for his tardiness. Alex could see that you were the reason and a pretty reason too. Alex wished he had your jacket with such a beautiful colour, but the music was more important.

“Oh, man!” Luke panicked fearing that being late would cause Julie to leave the band after the whole school dance fiasco.

“So, Luke. I like your name by the way. I’m Y/N.” You greeted holding back from offering you a hand, your theory would have been proven correct. Ghosts can’t touch other people, all the movies portrayed that.

“Nice to meet you! I’ll find you soon!” Luke shouted seconds before Alex poofed them both away with a single hand on his bandmate’s shoulder.

A content smile appeared before you continued on your way, unaware of the lack of acknowledgement from people on the street.

The next few days, Luke would find you either in the record store or just out front during his free time. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was touring the music entertainment spots until he had your company. Soon you were joined by Alex and Reggie every once in a while.

The three were planning outings with their new lifer friend as Julie grabbed her songbook from her room. She was amused when the three wouldn’t shut up.

“What are you planning?” Julie questioned scanning their animated expressions, even taking in the slight change in Alex’s appearance.

Alex had a braided bracelet of the rainbow on his left wrist that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. He even seemed calmer and less anxious, as well.

“What happened to Alex?” Julie questioned with a small smirk, “Did you bump into Willie?”

Alex shook his head, “No, Luke met this girl at a record store and then Reggie and I met her. She’s cool! There’s this app she showed us, and it had videos of anything you could imagine!”

Julie’s teasing smile faltered at the mention of Luke meeting someone before it returned once more. She pushed the feeling away as this girl had brought peace to the drummer.

“What’s her name?” Julie asked, pushing the songbook away to listen intently to the new piece of the boys’ afterlife. The three burst into stories of the girl.

“She took me to this cool place nearby where people store their horses!” Reggie burst out, clapping his head, “I already have a country song started! This is so a hit single for our future country album!”

Alex only released an exasperated sigh at Reggie’s idea that he voiced every single day since the beginning of the band. Luke was just used to finding sheets of songs from Reggie around the studio and often his songbook too.

“She also brought me a bag of clothing she had in her house that she let me go through. Apparently, her house is the place where cousins take their old clothing.” Alex supplied striking a pose in his new white sweater with a rainbow logo on the front.

Julie grinned at the positivity radiating off the two boys.

“Is she a ghost?”

Luke shook his head, “No. She’s alive.”

A spark of happiness flits itself inside of Julie before it dissipated because Flynn had already gently let the girl down about Luke.

“What’s her name! I’m gonna find her Instagram!” Julie took out her phone waiting as Alex supplied her the name. Her thumbs froze before she could type staring down at the black screen.

The name was familiar.

Laying on a bed on San Pablo Street was a girl with her eyes closed and a serene expression. This bed wasn’t just any bed in a home. Instead, this bed was one no one wished to be in. A bed with machines surrounding and right in the middle of those machines was Y/N.

The very girl that had met Luke, Reggie and Alex were in fact in the ICU of a hospital recovering in a coma.

“Why do you look like that?” Luke demanded as the colour drained from the lead singer of their band.

“Are you sure it was Y/N Y/L/N?” Julie gulped dread filling her veins as each boy nodded their head and the girl slumped, “I go to school with her. The thing is she’s been in a coma for two weeks now.”

You were outside the record store once more as the three ghosts appeared in front of you each looking the worst you had ever seen them.

“Did you lie?” Luke questioned stepping closer to the teenage girl that furrowed her brows in confusion, “You said that you are alive. Why did you lie?”

“Lie?” You asked, taking a step back from the odd energy the boys had. A look of distraught on each face, “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you here every day at this exact time. Never late, never early.” Alex questioned sick to his stomach as your brows came together.

“I- walk…” You trailed off thinking of the last week in deep thought paling as you had no recollection of going home or getting to the store. It was like you blacked out each time.

Actually, the last time you remember not being with the guys or at the store was two weeks ago.

“I don’t re…member.” You whispered, “I haven’t seen my family since…oh my god.”

Luke stepped closer, terrified as he reached out, hoping with his entire being his hand would go through you. It didn’t. Luke’s hand rested on your arm, still wearing that burgundy jacket. Your eyes flickered between his solid hand and the same outfit you wore for weeks now. Why would you be wearing a jacket and hiking boots in Los Angeles?

“My cousin had been saving up for a trip for her eighteenth birthday. She wanted to go skiing, so we split the cost between our families.”

As if a wall broke, you realized with horror that the college boy that hadn’t held the for you like you first thought. He hadn’t seen or heard you because in his world you weren’t there. No one had acknowledged you because they couldn’t see you just like they couldn’t see Luke.

“What else do you remember?” Reggie spoke up next, noticing that Luke was getting more upset. His eyes going so light the green appeared to be blue and glittered with tears and his heart dropping.

“My parents, my cousin and I were driving up the mountain in the rented car. There-“

Two Weeks Ago

Your head leaned again Lou’s head sharing the headphones connected to your phone blasting the carefully curated playlist. Lou had been living with your parents and you the last six months as her parents were travelling for work. It was a dream because she was like a sister already and vice versa; Lou as a surprise baby with her older sister being ten years older.

“We haven’t been to the slopes since we first got married.” Dad said glancing over at your mother in the passenger seat, “Didn’t we conceive-“

“Dad! Gross!” You shouted, wrinkling your nose as he glanced in the rear-view mirror to smile at your antics. Your mother’s laugh was probably one of your most favourite sounds in the world, it was warm like hot chocolate on a cold day.

“Did you see that video of the hologram band?” Lou asked, not paying attention to your family’s antics, “It’s super cool.”

“We still have half of our playlist to go through. You should show me when we get to the cabin.” You replied, “We could put it on the projector with the others.”

The others being your extended family, including the surprise of Lou’s parents. Your mother pointed out the snow on the mountain gaining everyone’s attention. It was beautiful compared to sunny Los Angeles.

Lou’s thumb was just about to click the video of Julie and the Phantoms against your wishes. You felt the fear before the yell, snapping your head up you watched as a pickup truck hit ice swerving into your lane. The screech of tires preceded the crunch of the vehicles hitting each other. Throughout the surrounding area, the echoes of the crash bounced off the mountains scaring birds away. Miraculously Lou’s phone survived the crash and played the electric video of ‘Edge of Great’ by Julie and the Phantoms. A song you would hum under your breath during your walks meeting the guys.

The snow turned red under four of five bodies. You lay nonconscious a stark difference in the burgundy jacket and black shirt you had painstakingly chosen that morning.

If I Stay Part Two (Final)

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#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #angst #agentsofsupernaturalmarvel #caitsy and ash productions #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson

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realcube · 4 years ago

Photo

'you're..you're wearing that-' he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, 'for me?'

navi | taglist | nsfw part two

summary ➵ on your first date with tamaki, he’s already wondering why you romanticise a guy like himself

content warning ➵ reader wear make-up, a dress and the accessories pictured above, very insecure! tamaki, mild angst & fluff

credit ➵ thank you to @suneater18 for the request and the pics belongs to hippieartesanatos

the moonlight penetrated through the sombre clouds which waved overhead, creating a picturesque night sky for you to admire on your date; as if the heavens were smiling down upon you, congratulating you for scoring such a nice guy.

well, at least, that is what you would’ve thought if your date was sooner to start. currently, you were shuffling on a park bench, fidgeting with your phone as your eyes flickered between the screen and the gorgeous sight above you, anticipating when your date will finally arrive so you can admire it together.

however, twenty minutes had passed since nine o’clock — the time you had both agreed to meet each other at — yet you were still sitting alone, tamaki no where to be seen. what make it even worse was that he was ghosting all your messages and calls.

perhaps it was the first-date jitters speaking but there was a voice lurking in the back of your head, whispering that you have been stood-up. however, you were too ashamed to just get up and leave now, so you figured that you may as well call your friend and ask them to join you.

your eyes burned with tears which you choked back as your fingers worked on their own to search your contacts for your friend’s number. there was a part of you that believed you were being to hasty but you truly couldn’t bare to just sit here and act ‘hopeful’ any longer. with shaky hands, you tapped your friend’s contact as your thumb hovered over the phone icon.

“(y/n)!”

you froze upon hearing your name called from a distance, your immediate reaction being to whip your head around to see who — or what — was in such desperate need of your attention that they were willing to yell your name from half-way across the park.

and of course, it was none other than tamaki amajiki himself; dashing towards you at full-speed in a torn suit, muddy shoes and..his hair seemed to be unevenly cut. he wore a determined yet petrified expression as he came hurdling in your direction, a single stray tentacle dragging behind him as he ran.

a smile of both confusion and relief tugged at your lips, the pads of your fingers dabbing lightly under your eyes to rid of any puffy skin or dampness while simultaneously ensuring that you wouldn’t mess up your lashes or eyeshadow.

“tama! you’re here!” you squealed, your hands automatically clasping together in excitement as he approached the bench, about to fall into the seat beside you due to how tired he was but pausing as he watched you spring to your feet and open your arms for a hug. his lips slowly curled into a weak smile, his expression softening and he didn’t waste a single second before throwing his arms around you, pulling you in for as tight of a hug that his worn biceps would allow him to.

despite the fact he reeked of an ungodly amount of body spray, you still basked his embrace since this is the moment you spent the last three hours or so preparing for. you were quite shocked at how shabby he looked but you decided against questioning it, out of courtesy. but on the bright side, it really made you feel better about the outfit you had spent hours styling, yet you were still not completely sure about.

tamaki suddenly pulled away from the hug so he could fall back onto the bench, letting out a hefty sigh and momentarily zoning out in order to catch his breath. you weren’t too sure whether it was appropriate to giggle or pout at the sight so you chose to not do either and instead, just awkwardly stand and stare at him.

a sharp inhale was all tamaki needed before he was finally able to sit up slightly and bow his head, folding his hands to you before blurting out, “i am so sorry i’m late, (y/n)!” and before you could even get a word in, he began his breathless explanation, “i got a small tear in my shirt and mirio said he’ll fix it but he made it even worse. then nejire said she’ll style my hair but she only knew a few male styles and said my hair was too long and before i could say anything she was chopping away at my hair-- and somehow mirio’s dog got ahold of my suit and it made the tears even worse! i was so stress and y’know when i’m stressed i stress-eat, so i began eating fish snacks and before i even knew what was going on, it was nine o’clock. so i ran here as fast as i could and i tried to manifest tentacles to help me move faster but it turns out i didn’t eat enough fish snacks so i only have one tentacle and i can’t even move it properly- look!”

the fact he said all of that in seemingly one breath left you stunned in place, with you eyes fixated on his rapidly moving lips until they instinctively shifted onto his single tentacle, laying dejected by his feet until it started squirming around. however, that was all it seemed capable of doing — squirming.

“uuh,” you hummed, trying your best to stifle a snicker as tamaki was clearly in genuine destress. “it’s fine, tama! i was a bit worried that you wouldn’t show but it doesn’t matter, you’re here now so let’s focus on that.”

your words somewhat calmed him down as his shoulders visibly relaxed, his red eyes tearing off the concrete ground to meet your kind gaze. a slight gasp escaped his lips as he noticed how gorgeous your make-up was, but before he could utter a compliment, his eyes went further downwards as he tried to process the whole of your outfit.

his cheeks immediately burned red at the sight; your stunning purple dress, shimmering heels and matching crystal accessories which were evidently worn to complement his own aesthetic. a certain piece which he was drawn to, was the golden, gemmed ear cuff you wore with pointed tips to form a similar shape to his own ears — one of his biggest physical insecurities.

“you look..” tamaki mused, momentarily cutting himself off to think of a word that would do you justice, “perfect.” his voice was hushed, hardly above a whisper but you were still able to make out what he said and a sheepish grin crept onto your features.

“thank you, baby!” you chirped, perking up slightly and giving him a little twirl, causing a burst of red to explode on his cheeks which he was quick to try cover with his hands. it was moments like these when he wished that hoodies were first-date appropriate, that way he could just sink back into his hood and pretend he doesn’t exist.

“you look really nice too.” there was nothing wrong with a little white lie every now and again. however, it wasn’t even said with the intent of being a lie as you secretly thought that the scruffiness kinda suited tamaki, like, he looked badass! like your prince charming who accidentally fell into a ditch.

your compliment didn’t help the increasing temperature of tamaki’s cheeks either, causing him to slump farther back in his seat as he muttered garbled speech under his breath. it took a good few seconds but eventually he was able to peer at you with a single eye through the inbetweens of his fingers, “a-and i like your little ear cuff thing.

everything he said only widened your beam and make you feel more giddy, to the point where you were practically bounced in place, “thanks, tama! i saw it and immediately thought of you, so i bought it.” you stifled a squeal at how observant tamaki was being, praising all the small details of your attire which you thought would go unnoticed. “i decided to wear it today because remember how you showed me the tie you bought for our date?” you explained, vaguely gesturing at said tie which hung in tatters around his neck, “yeah, so, i thought we could match.”

it took him a few moments to process what you just said and while his brain was running on overdrive, you were met by his rapid blinking and frozen stature. having known tamaki for a while now, you knew how this was a fairly common occurrence when was truly stunned by something, so you allowed him some time in silence to consolidate.

“so..” he started, trembling hand dropping from his face and onto his lap so you could see his whole bashful appearance. his gaze seemed to be trained on the floor, until he finally looked up to reveal the twinkle in his eyes, “you’re..you’re wearing that-” he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, “for me?”

the thought that you were ashamed to be with him was something that constantly taunted him from the back of this mind. you were heavenly in a way that his words simply could not describe, though that didn’t stop him from trying. it was beyond him how a person as divine as yourself would even give him the time of day; let alone insist that he was beautiful, leave encouraging notes in his locker, comfort him when he shows even the smallest sign of being upset, give him praise on all the thing he was insecure about and so much more.

when he looked in the mirror, he did not see what you see. he viewed his ears as creepy and not a feature he should put on display, hence a part of the many reasons why he’s so fond of his hood. but here you were, all dolled up in his favourite colour just to showcase that you were with him. your ears decorated with pretty cuffs that made them look a similar shape to his, at first glance.

when he’d walk beside you through the corridors of the school or under the shade of the trees in the park, he’d feel the eyes of jealous passersby burn holes through his skin; despite the fact you weren’t even dating him yet, people just hated seeing a guy like himself by your side, apparently.

he stopped eating before meeting up with you so he wouldn’t have any weird manifestation that could draw attention to himself. he started wearing his hood up at all times so people wouldn’t judge him for his elven ears. he refused to touch you just in case people thought you were dating and became envious of him, which would quickly turn to hatred.

so why would you want to look like him? why would you want people to know that you are on a date with him? why did you act proud to be with him?

you quirked a brow at how confounded he sounded, thinking over your answer with a hum; you wore this outfit for tamaki and yourself because you thought it was pretty and it suited you. however, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was no need to give tamaki the full truth right now so instead you allowed him to enjoy his rare surge of confidence by replying with simply, “yeah, for you.”

you weren’t going to be surprised that he was flattered, by now you were well aware that tamaki held all your opinions on him in high esteem so that’s why you always tried to be as nice to him as possible — that, and it was just in your nature to be kind towards him when he’s been nothing but respectful to you back.

however, what you didn’t expect was to hear faint sobs from behind his hands and watch as crystalline tears poured escaped from the inbetweens of his fingers, racing down the back of his hands. “tamaki..” you murmured, reluctantly taking a seat next to him to wrap your arms around, rubbing comforting circles in his shoulders like you usually did when he was sad. although, you weren’t even completely sure that he was disheartened by your statement.

“i’m sorry.” you spoke in a hushed voice, leaning in close to his neck until your nose brushed against his skin, resulting in him tilting his head so it rested upon yours. “are you okay?”

“please don’t apologise.” he croaked, stifling his snivels to try show that he wasn’t upset. “you did nothing wrong. in fact, you’ve done everything right. i’m the one who’s been messing up.” he felt your hand ghost over his own and without a second thought, he intertwined his finger with your own, freeing his other palm to place it on your shoulder and exposing his pale, tear-stained face is the process.

“i know it’s hard but you should tell me what’s on your mind, tamaki.” you hummed, gently caressing the back of his hand with your thumb and planting a kiss on the damp skin of his cheek. his cologne was still suffocating strong but if you were to die, it would ideally be while cuddled up to him, under the celestial night sky.

opening up had never been an easy task for tamaki; especially about a subject that concerned his physical appearance and emotions. but there was a knot in his chest that would simply come undone when he was with you. he couldn’t explain it, but all the barriers and walls he had established to avoid getting his feeling hurt or heart broken would come crashing down whenever he was with you. perhaps it was a familiarity, maybe it was your reassuring presence or might just be pure love and adoration.

either way, he found him himself babbling on about anything and everything that bothered him with little regard for his own pride or secrecy, he voiced every thought that came to his mind in the moment. he told you just about it all — all his problems and insecurities —and you listened, offering him encouragement whenever he’d cut himself off, saying something along the lines of, ‘i-i’ll stop now, i sound silly’ or ‘you’re probably tired of hearing me prattle on’. though, of course you didn’t want him to stop until he had gotten everything off his chest as it was a rare sight for him to talk for such lengths at a time so the last thing you wanted to do was discourage him.

“i just..” tamaki stammered, coming to the end of his passionate ramble, “don’t understand why you want to be seen with me, let alone wear those.” he raised his shaky hand from your shoulder to gesture to your ear cuffs, “don’t get me wrong, they look cute on you, but i just don’t get why you’d want to have ears that look like mine.”

“because yours are beautiful!”

he winced at the compliment and at how sincere you sounded, “well, i’m glad you think that, (y/n).” he muttered, not even having to finish his statement as the dejection in his voice made it obvious that he did not view himself in the same light. his gaze dropped to his feet which were shuffling uncontrollably, “i don’t know why i’m making such i big deal about this. aren’t you annoyed?”

your let go of his hands only to slip them around his neck and pull him into your embrace, you felt him tense up in your arms but slowly allow himself to relax his cheek onto your shoulder. “i’m not annoyed, baby. i get what you mean and it’s horrible that you feel that way.” all tamaki could do would tick his tongue in agreement.

“i know i tell you this all the time but i honestly think you’re so attractive, inside and out. i was so excited when you agreed to date me, i could’ve died of happiness on the spot!” you chirped, momentarily jerked your head backwards so you could peck the tip of his nose, giggling as he scrunched his face up cutely at the sudden touch.

your angelic laugh rung through tamaki’s head, forcing his lips into a smile as he gawked at your adorable action. “i love you..” tamaki uttered, raising his voice ever so slightly to ensure that you heard what he said, “so much.” thanks to you, his sobs were now just mere sniffles into the crook of your neck.

you inhaled sharply, eyes-widening at his words; you would’ve never thought he would be the first on to say ‘i love you’, but you were far from disappointed, in fact you felt yourself melting further into his touch.

you felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing slowly retuning to it’s regular pace as he squeezed his eyes shut, cancelling out all his other senses so he could focus on the way your body felt against his own.

he wanted to be confident. he wanted to take pride in himself for you. he was tired of restless nights filled with tears due to his worries berating him for simply existing in your presence.

it wasn’t going to be easy but he needed to start acting on everything you said. because eventually, it wouldn’t just be for you, it’d be for himself.

and of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by you when he started wearing his hood less often, when he began holding his head up higher as he walks by your side, the way he now shoots warm smiles at people who try to glare at him.

and five years later, how he didn’t bat an eye at deadly glare that the waiter — that had been subtly flirting with you all night — shot at him as he got down on one knee, in front of the whole restaurant.

#amajiki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #amajiki fluff #amajiki x y/n #bnha x y/n #amajiki tamaki x reader #bnha tamaki #mha tamaki #bnha x you #bnha fluff #tamaki fluff #tamaki x you #tamaki x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #mha fluff #tamaki amajiki #mha amajiki #amajiki x you

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chokemeoutiguess · 4 years ago

Text

"Would you kill me, my love?"

It was rhetorical, really. You liked being alive but what about being a captive is living? Unfortunately for you, your words had an audience, and the wrong one at that.

Code Geass Edition (pt 1/2): Lelouch, Suzaku

CW: suicidal ideation but doesn’t go past the title. kidnapping, manipulation, references to violence, threats of violence, very unhealthy relationships. This is not what a relationship should look like.

Lelouch Vi Britannia

"Kill you?" He looked so amused. Amused but irked. With delicate brows raised and stood tall in his white regalia, he looked like a tyrant who was so humoured by the court jester, that me may just spare their life.

But, you could tell that he was surprised by your question. He clawed through his dark hair, his gaze not leaving you once. He looks down at you, purple eyes holding an uncomfortably off gleam to them.

"Never." You expected as much.

He reaches towards you, running his knuckles down your trembling cheek, and his gentle gaze holding yours. "Never you."

You stiffen, your ankles feeling tighter in their jewelled holds, your legs feeling much more jittery against the fine silk of your bedsheets.

"...then who?" Your voice is weak, after not having used it for so long.

He laughs this time, so light, so full. You wouldn't think he was laughing at someone else's death.

"Anyone. If that's what it would take to remind you-" a smooth hand curls around your neck, "that you are mine."

You don't fight him and he relishes in his hold over you, your submission. You've long since learned that he will never apply too much pressure if you stay still, instead becoming accustomed to the warmth his palm spreads around your neck.

"Now, my love. Who put those ideas in your head?" His face holds a perfect smile, but you know better than that. "That dying is better than being here, with me?"

He gestures to your opulent room, gold gilded the frames of every piece of furniture, you had a stocked kitchenette, an en suite, even a TV and laptop with access to the outside world. You had everything you needed to survive. But you didn't have freedom.

The doors only opened for Lelouch, your activity monitored and limited by Lelouch, every piece of clothing lovingly selected by Lelouch. Even now you could walk the perimeter of your small home, but the jingle of the chain around your ankle never let you forget that your life was lost long ago, even if you still breathe.

But you didn't say a word, simply looking at him. When he had first 'relocated' you, for your safety of course, you believed every lie. Followed every rule. And yet, he only got worse.

It was a shame really. You had loved him once, when you were children. You had hoped that the glowing boy of his youth was in there, somewhere, when he returned to the capital to usurp the throne. The frail genius became an emperor.

You were one of the few nobles who didn't fight his rule. You revelled in it even, tired of watching the world suffer at the hands of your brethren, angry at how they treated their own. He worked to tear down the work of his forefathers, which hurt your inner Britannian but your heart sang, knowing that those tyrants would lose their life’s work to flames set by their own blood.

He was on a roll, so it was surprising when he had proposed that you help him secure his rule by becoming the imperial consort. You were sure that that role would fall to his beautiful green haired companion. But he claimed that he needed you for this, that you were the key to peace. You hesitated, naturally, none of it made sense. But when you spent more time with him, joined him for strolls, dinners, meetings, you understood.

“You are perfect. Let no one question that.” He said. You felt warm, and you almost listened.

When he slipped the ring on your hand late one banquet, leaving a longing kiss on its place in your finger he whispered “Let no one question the future queen.”

And this time you believed him.

Now here you are, suffering the consequences of your naivete.

You looked up at the frustratingly handsome face of the current emperor, the man who trapped you so sweetly, the one you cannot help but to care for.

He seemed to have expected your silence. He continued to speak with a curl on his lips as you felt the heat from his hands slide from your neck to both your cheeks to hold your stare to his. All you could see was him.

"No matter. I know a way to ensure I am your only choice. Though I'd preferred for you to love me on your own."

Again, no response. Just a despaired look passing from your eyes to his.

"I, Lelouch vi Britannia, command you, to love only me." His voice is strangely soft as his eyes begin to glow a light pink and suddenly you feel something you've long tried to supress.

"...Lelouch." You sighed out his name, liking how it sounded.

"Yes, dearest?" He smiled, genuinely this time.

Your hands cup around his face, moving closer to him. "Lelouch, I-"

You stopped, flinching. Even he looked suprised. No, this isn't-

"Dearest?" His voice was so warm and gentle on your ears. A part of you giddy that it was towards you. You feel what little grasp you have slip-

-That's right, this is perfect. What was I thinking? He's my love.

Warmth flooded you. Of course, how could you forget?

With no hesitation this time, you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I love you."

Lelouch beamed.

Suzaku Kururugi

It was a line you’d heard somewhere, corny but it stuck with you. You wanted to taste how it sounded, nothing serious. Though, it would’ve been better if Suzaku hadn’t just stumbled through the doorway.

He returns to his home in the 11's district, ready to start dinner, only to hear you ask him to kill you? You’d be stupid to think he wouldn’t overreact.

The door slammed shut behind him with a thud, his face draining of colour so quickly.

"What? What makes you think I'd ever do that? That's the last thing I-"

He panics, dropping the bags of food on the floor. He rushes to you, sat up against the bed, a bandage wrapped around your head. He looks you over, thinking you'd tried to hurt yourself. But his fear is replaced with something much more sombre when he sees you're free of injury.

"Is that what you think of me? That I'd kill you because we have a- a hiccup?"

He calls kidnap a hiccup?

He clenches his fists, he seems to struggle to look at you.

"Is this about what happened with Euphie? You think that dying is the only way to get my attention?"

God, not this inane bullshit again. He was convinced that you were jealous of a dead girl. Once upon a time you were worried that he'd never let her go, that you would always be second to a ghost. And now, you wished that that was the case.

"Because you dont need to, damn it. You just need to ask, I'd give you everything if you asked!"

"So you'd kill-"

He slaps his hand over your mouth, infuriated that you'd ask again. It almost stung as much as the wound on your head that you got trying to fight him off when he took you.

"No. I couldn't, that's the only thing I could never give you. I'm sorry." He wasn't sorry, and it was starting to piss you off.

"Just stop." You almost growl beneath his palm, so tired of putting up with him. "Suzaku, I can’t live like this, not here, not with you-"

"YOU DON'T MEAN THAT!"

His shout surprises you, banging your head against the headboard that you're pressed against.

His fist punches into the wall behind your head and for the first time, you're sacred that he might deliberately hurt you.

"...you don't mean that."

His voice his weaker this time and you seem to have completely lost yours.

"You don't. I know it." He said to himself under his breath, seemingly trying to convince himself.

"We're all we have left, from the beginning its always been us. I was an idiot but I'm fixing it. And then I'll bring our home back."

"Suzaku-"

"I know I'm not good enough for you, I know that. But I will be. Once I become viceroy, I'll fix it all."

"Suzaku, I know you're trying but you didn't need to do this. " You say, gesturing to the now highly secure apartment. "I dont want to be trapped-"

"You're not! We'll leave eventually but not right now. It's not safe, you know that.” He has a stern look in his green eyes, one that reminds you of his father. “ It’s not safe, let me protect you.”

The dull ache in your head reminded you not to trust him, no matter how much he pleaded. You had loved him, yes. But you couldn’t forgive this.

He looks up at you with a tired, longing look before he sighs. Resting his head on your shoulder he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you close.

“Please.” He begged, and your heart ached. “I can’t do it without you.”

Oh Suzaku. You reach up to stroke his back. You couldn’t forgive him, but that didn’t stop you from feeling hurt, seeing him like this.

“I know you love me.”

He pulls back, his eyes a little more dull than before and this raises alarms.

“I know you love me, so don’t lie like that ever again.” He spat. He leans his forehead against yours, staring deep into your eyes.

“Don’t make me do something I’ll really regret, okay?” The grip he had on your waist tightened and the increased pressure of his head against your injured one reminded you-

Suzaku hurt you to take you home. What else would he do to keep you there?

#code geass #lelouch vi britannia #lelouch lamperouge #suzaku kururugi #imagine #yandere #and yes #the quote is a black panther ref #Little angsty oops #code geass yandere #code geass imagine

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