#more than anything consider: what did you take away from this story? can you recognize what the author is trying to say?

[thedevotionaltour]

one day people will stop calling superheroes inherently antifascist and instead recognize the reactionary and conservative values that fuel many of their stories and characters and then determine how they want to engage and analyze from there, exploring what it means about and for the story, the characters, and what both the story and author(s) are trying then trying to tell you.

[xiao-come-home]

Thinking about post-story Jiaoqiu trying to find himself in the new situation.. and getting even more clingier 🤧

warning: spoilers for jaoqiu's story if you havent played the new quest. possible ooc jiaoqiu?

Word count: 1k+

a/n: its been a while from writing and even tho im not disabled in any way, i hope its alright bc im kinda nervous to post this. i just think hed be a lovely pain in the butt to get more love </3

The new reality has been a true challenge for Jiaoqiu - trying to navigate through the house was already a tedious task, let alone cooking, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. While yes, he did miss doing things by himself - which, once in a while brought dark clouds over his head - the foxian managed to find enjoyment through doing tasks together, with your help.

It's quite known that Jiaoqiu isn't afraid of craving affection from you anywhere and anytime - especially now, considering he's limited in what he's able to do safely without hurting himself. Now that you're welcome in the kitchen to assist him, the pink-haired foxian can't help, but pull you flush against him while you carefully guide his hands to cut vegetables in even slices.

The healer slowly trails the tip of his nose down your hair until he recognizes the familiar shape of your neck - Jiaoqiu nuzzles happily into you, ever so slightly tickling you and giving you goosebumps; he smiles against your skin when you let out a comically fake, tired sigh, only fueling him to continue pestering you further.

He purposely takes his chin off the top of your head and searches for your ears so he's able to whisper, but when you decide to playfully confront him, Jiaoqiu only plays dumb and tilts his head to the side, asking you a seemingly innocent question, "Hmm? What do you mean, love? I'm not doing anything, the kitchen is not a playground, remember?"

There's a chance you'd probably believe him if you two were mere coworkers - but his twitching ears always give away his attempts to lie to you.

Jiaoqiu is clingy. Absolutely no news to anybody. That's when you finally get done with cooking, it's time for the cunning foxian to get a break; he stretches his arms to you, waiting until you put his hands on your cheeks. He cups them gently, rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb, and softly moves it to find your lips - his mind paints a picture of your figure, the shape and every crease his fingers feel; he smiles at you yet again, with a glimmer of mischief.

He wants to kiss you.

He also knows he will most likely miss your lips more or less.

But instead of feeling hopeless, he uses it to his advantage.

Jiaoqiu begins to pepper your face in kisses until he feels you try to get away from him and hears your angelic giggles; he kisses your left eyebrow - oh no, that's definitely not the place he's aiming for! He moves more to the right and kisses the bridge of your nose - oh no, not yet! The softness of his lips meets the apple of your cheek - oh, that's closer, but still not the goal he has in his mind...

After a while of Jiaoqiu purposely changing directions (and probably missing some anyway, but it's not like he complains about it, since he can kiss you more this way), with a little help of yours, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips, barely giving you time to breathe and finally, finally reaching his awaited destination, pressing his lips on yours; he gives you a few quick kisses if he feels like he still misses the exact place to change the angle, melting into a puddle with butterflies in his stomach.

Is it hard sometimes? Yes. The heavy weight travels straight to his heart, leaving him clenching his fists; the foxian hates the helplessness that hurts twice as much, much worse than the wounds Hoolay has inflicted.

Nowadays, his ears pick up your step way better, even letting him guess correctly what jar of herbs you're opening from the mere sound. He uses his tail as some sort of object detector - but he only waves his fan innocently when it makes you yelp in surprise, as Jiaoqiu runs the tip down your spine all the way down.

"Ah, I wonder what that was?" Jiaoqiu wonders, the fluffy ears twitching and the pink tail swishing behind him, "Is something wrong, beloved? Did you mess up the measurements? No worries, we'll fix it right away."

Well, if you decide to leave the house for supplies, you now have to hold his hand all the time. Just to be sure, he also wraps his tail around you, so he knows you're by his side and he doesn't bump into anybody. Hey, he's just thinking about the civilians around him! As a doctor, there's nothing else that matters more than keeping them safe and healthy... Right?

Even though he's been braiding his hair for years and could probably do it by himself again - being only a tiny bit off on one side, he cuddles up to you in the morning and presses kisses onto your neck, silently asking you to help him once you get out of bed - you certainly can't miss his hair getting all up in your face... and therefore, what he's asking for.

Does he feel a liiiitle desperate? Mmm, a bit.

Does he feel like he's feeding the helplessness in the back of his mind? Sometimes.

But it's worth to look for happy moments regardless of the situation - and you being perfectly aware he's doing it solely to get even more of your attention - makes him feel a little better with it.

Though, he knows when to stop and give you space; he doesn't want to actually become your burden, even if he lost his sight, he's still trying his best to stay as independent as possible in terms of daily tasks as possible.

If you're tired, Jiaoqiu waits until you hand him the brush and he's the one combing your hair; if you're too sleepy in the morning, he's the one helping you put on your clothes with verbal help, even if it takes a bit more time than usual. Along with you, he organizes medicines so neatly, it takes a blink of an eye for him to bring a full tray of medicines when you happen to catch a cold.

Does he miss being able to see? More than he'd admit.

But the more he thinks, the pink-haired foxian always comes to the same conclusion - it'll probably be harder to unlearn the clinginess once his eyesight comes back...

But for now, maybe it's alright to indulge a little more?

[cobaltperun]

Lost (5) - Keep me breathing

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Warning for this chapter: Talks about suicide if that can trigger you in any way, please, don't read.

Word count: 7.4k

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Another night that comes undone. You're the one that keeps me breathing.-

Something was missing, she felt cold and vulnerable, and she didn't feel arms around her. She was alone. She wasn’t supposed to be alone, you’ve been with her since you found out she was attacked, but now Tara woke up and you weren't in the bed with her. She was drowsy from the medicine and you not being there didn't make it any better. Why did you leave? When? How come she didn't wake up?

And then the memories came back. The knife over your chest, the way you held Ghostface's wrist, you saying you'd be right back, and then the terror she felt as you knelt, as you got shot, as she shot you, as you lost consciousness and were carried away by the doctors. She couldn't breathe, she felt as if something was squeezing her chest, as if no matter how hard she tried she couldn't breathe.

Her inhaler. She needed her inhaler. Tara frantically looked around until she found it. She pressed it against her lips as your words came back to her. 'Love, look at me,' that's what you said, that was definitely what you said. And it wasn’t just some friendly nickname either, this was you, and you… you’ve never called her like that. She called you Baby for a while, when she figured out that would get you to comply with her wishes easier, but she stopped after getting together with Amber, and even while she called you that it wasn’t meant to be specifically romantic. But you calling her ‘Love’, there was nothing friendly about it, about the word you chose, about the look in your eyes, the tone of your voice. You loved her more than anything or anyone in the world, she was your number one, she was your everything, that was the depth of love she saw in your eyes.

You should have said that word four months ago. You shouldn't be saying that word now that she shot you. Now that you bled for her. Now that you- a horrifying thought came to her mind, the uncertainty, the fact that she couldn’t know if you…

Did you survive?

She tore the tubes off, not even registering the lack of pain, she didn't even consider just how strong the painkillers were if she wasn't feeling that excruciating pain she felt earlier. Someone had to tell her what happened to you. When she last saw you you blacked out and doctors took you away from her. All she could see was you being taken away, separating from her. She was panicking, fearing the overwhelming emotions that would consume her if you weren’t alive. Someone grabbed her by the shoulders, someone was holding her, trapping her, keeping her from you, her heart beat faster, she couldn’t breathe, she needed to get free, to get to you, and she frantically tried to push whoever it was away. "Miss Carpenter you have to stay in bed," she vaguely recognized the voice and just barely managed to look at the woman holding her back. it was a nurse and she was already calling for doctors.

"Y/N! How is she?" she paused only for a moment realizing that maybe just your first name wouldn’t do. “Y/N L/N, she was shot earlier. Please tell me how she is?" she needed to hear you were alive. You had to be. You wouldn't leave here like this. What kind of twisted reality would she be living in if you were dead. Born sick, abandoned, neglected, attacked in her own home just to get Sam back to Woodsboro, if this was how she lost you as well… as consumed by despair, terror and guilt as she was a sick thought that it would have been better if she was killed the first time she was attacked crossed her mind.

"She's alive, miss L/N had a mild heart attack, her injuries are serious, but she is expected to make a full recovery. Now get back in bed and don't tear anything else off," the knowledge that you were alive calmed her down, chased away the despair driven thoughts she had. But still, a heart attack. Was that what was happening while you were carrying her? The guilt gnawed at her chest, if it wasn't for her you'd be fine. It was all her fault that you were in that condition.

The nurse helped her back into the bed and probably noticed the look on Tara's face. "Sorry about putting it like that, I should have been more considerate. I just had to answer the same question two hours ago."

Tara looked at the nurse. "W-What?" did she wake up before and couldn't remember it?

"Heart attack and that girl still tried to force her way to you. Wouldn't calm down until we told her you were fine and even then, we still had to sedate her to keep her from reopening her wounds," Tara looked away, embarrassed by the shy smile she couldn't keep off her face and the blush that clearly had no intention of fading any time soon. You still tried to get to her, despite everything, despite your own pain. She didn’t deserve it, but she felt near overwhelming happiness because of that.

"Lovestruck teenagers,” the nurse sighed, and Tara nearly corrected her that you weren’t a teenager, but the first word kept her mouth shut. “Give it an hour or so and we'll see if there's anything we can do to put you in the room together," the nurse assured her and left as the doctors came in to check on her.

As they checked her wounds and made sure none of them reopened Tara, now calmer, thought back to what you said right before Sam came and saved the two of you.

'Just in case I don't get another chance. You saved a life that had no right to continue. So let me-' you didn't get to finish whatever you were saying, but she knew whatever you were about to say wasn't something she wanted to hear.

There was so much you kept from her, the agreement, as you called it, between you and your parents, the reason behind such an agreement, and now this. According to you, Tara saved a life that had no right to continue. She didn't get it. She refused to make the connection between a 'life that had no right to continue' and your life, but what other life could you have been talking about?

Somehow, as high as she was from all the painkillers, she kept thinking back to one particular moment, about a year after Sam abandoned her.

~X~

Her mom was getting ready again. By now Tara recognized each sign her mom would go out, she recognized the patterns that told her how long she'd be alone. By the looks of it, she wouldn't be seeing her mother for at least two days, perhaps even three.

It's been a year since Sam left, no, abandoned, Tara, and the house Tara lived in felt less and less like home with each day that passed. Her mother didn't even bother to lock the doors, let alone say something to Tara. An 'I'll see you later' would have been enough to soothe Tara, but she didn't even get that. She was well-behaved, she did her best at school, she didn't cause any trouble. Surely her mother wouldn't leave her.

What would happen if she did? If she left Tara all alone? Or kicked Tara out? Would someone force Sam to come back and get her? Or would someone try to contact her father first? Would they even want to take her in? They left her, so no, she didn’t think they would. Would she be stuck in foster homes? The only person who she believed would want to take her in was you. And you weren’t eighteen yet, so you couldn’t do that. But what if her mom abandoned her after you turned eighteen? Would your parents let her stay with you? They probably would, though not because they liked her. No, Tara was sure they didn’t like her, especially your dad, but you’d talk them into letting her stay. She’d stay with her best friend, she’d live with her best friend, she could sneak into your room to watch a movie whenever, and not just on rare nights she was allowed to stay at your place.

Somehow, that thought, that the moment you turned eighteen you’d be able to prevent anything from keeping the two of you apart, comforted her. When she thought like that, she didn’t hope that her mother would never abandon her, she just hoped she wouldn’t abandon her in the next two and a half years.

Almost on auto-pilot, she unlocked her phone and called you. It rang for a while. That didn't worry her, it always took you a bit to pick up your phone. if you weren't at school or with her you were most likely training, so it took you some time to answer the phone. She counted seconds in her head and then, just as she reached twenty-seven seconds you picked up, slightly out of breath.

"How's it going Snuggle Tar-Bear," despite the anxiousness squeezing at her chest she smiled at the nickname. It sounded like she did interrupt your training, you were a bit out of breath.

"Awful, mom won't be home for a couple of days and I'm so bored," she tried to sound cheerful, to feign being bored and hopefully get you to skip training for at least a day. "Wanna sleep at my place tonight? I promise I won't make you watch The Babadook again," she was sure you've seen it at least five times by now, and every time it was because of her.

There was a pause for a moment, a pause so long, she raised an eyebrow, now feeling a bit worried. Did she say something wrong? "Oh, no you don't, we're watching that damn movie. I want to see how many times it'll take for you to get bored of it," oh, oh, she didn’t say anything wrong.

Her smile widened. "You're coming then?" just reassure her, tell her a definitive yes and that's all she'd need for now.

"Yeah, I'll be there in about an hour. I just need to get something done and I'll come over," there it was, the reassurance she needed. As long as she had you, she’d never be alone, that’s how it was for years now.

"Great, don't take too long," she couldn't hide the eagerness in her voice, you've been busy over the past few days, and she missed you.

"The longer you talk the longer it'll take me to get there," you were teasing her, but there was a bit of seriousness to that statement, so with a rushed 'Bye' she hung up. With a happy grin on her face, she rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. Just an hour to go, she could wait that long. She looked around her room, at the framed photos, one of you and her, when her and Mindy won an award for their short movie. One of her family, while it was still whole, and one of her and Sam, the last two photos were bittersweet, memories of times that would never come back, and she always felt a mix of feelings when looking at them. That was why she kept the gifts from Sam and her dad in her drawer, only pulling them out when she missed them the most. There were bits of your presence in the room, even aside from the photo. The Babadook DVD you bought her, among a few others, the snow globe with three reindeer she liked, and you got for her. You were a part of her life, a part she never wanted to lose, a part she was sure she’d never lose. With the grin she couldn’t wipe off her face she stood up and went downstairs to watch the TV to pass time before you came to her house.

The house… unlike her room, didn’t feel like home. The liquor cabinet she despised, the bare furniture, with barely anything personal in the way the rooms were organized. The cold permeating the house had nothing to do with the dull colors, it had everything to do with the absence of people in it, the silence that was rarely filled, and the size of it that enhanced the sense of loneliness. So, she rarely spent time outside of her room, unless someone came over. The only times her living room didn’t feel like a source of loneliness was when she would sneak downstairs, while you were sleeping over, and she got to see you there, sleeping with a blanket over you before you would inevitably get woken up by her presence.

A bit over an hour later she heard knocking on her front door and jumped to her feet. You were there and you looked... tired? It didn't show in the way you carried yourself, but there was a sense of exhaustion in your eyes. "Hey, are you okay, Y/N?" she reached up and, despite that not being what she usually did, caressed your cheek. She didn't like the way your eyes widened at that, as if you got caught doing something you shouldn't.

"I'm here, I'm okay," back then she had no idea it would take four years to figure out what those words meant, back then she just took those words as you saying you wouldn't be there if something was seriously wrong. And she figured that was true because if something was actually seriously wrong, you'd be there trying to fix it, not here with her watching a movie and having a sleepover. So, when you stepped in and picked her up, when your arms trembled around her, she brushed it off as fatigue from training. When you took a few extra seconds to let her go she explained it by you missing her. That explanation felt good. Someone missed her. Her dad didn't. Her mom wouldn't. Sam didn't. You did. So, she went with that explanation. "Thanks for calling, I'm sorry you had to," from the moment you said those words that exhaustion she saw sort of faded away and you were back to normal.

~X~

You woke up again five minutes ago and while you wanted to go and find Tara to make sure she was fine you needed to make a phone call. Which made the white ceiling above you extremely interesting, frankly, a white sheet of paper would have been worked as a distraction given who you had to call.

"Come on, you're not afraid of one phone call," who were you lying to, you were more afraid of this phone call than almost anything in the world. The only thing that ever scared you more was seeing that gun pointed at Tara, but now you didn’t have adrenaline fueling you. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the button and waited.

"Susan Smith, how may I help you," you immediately recognized the voice. You immediately wanted to hang up, to pretend you called the wrong number and forget about this. You couldn’t though, you had to keep Tara safe, and she would be the safest if she also had medical care available to her. "Hello?"

You swallowed, getting over your fear for Tara’s sake. "Uh, good evening, I guess, I'm-"

"Y/N?" oh, this was definitely not how you wanted this conversation to go. You did not imagine she would recognize your voice.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Yeah, it's me, I know it's sudden, but I need help. Can I come to Sacramento with two other people? Tonight?" you spoke slowly, waiting for Susan to hang up. She didn't.

"Of course, Honey, you don't need to ask," you must have imagined it, or you were too high from painkillers, or something.

"One of the other two, Tara, she has a broken leg and she got stabbed and she also has asthma, and I don't know who else to turn to. So, I need to keep her safe, since the ones that attacked her are still out there and no one knows about you and me, and I-" you were just piling up more and more words at this point.

"Y/N, hey, I'm here for you, I'll help," Susan's words made you squeeze your eyes shut, you couldn't cry now.

"Got it. We're in Woodsboro right now, so we'll arrive sometime tonight. I'll text you when we leave the hospital," you despised how vulnerable you sounded.

"I'll be waiting. Please drive safely, okay?" she didn't change a bit. She was exactly how you remembered her, the kindest adult you ever met in your childhood.

"Thank you," you nearly cried. It was fine if you couldn't stop a tear or two, right? Just this once you could let yourself be weak, just for a moment, right?

"Thank you for choosing me," yeah, you could be weak. "It's okay, honey, let it out. It's okay," and so you just sat there, letting all the emotions you felt over the past two days flow out of you. From that bad feeling, to finding out Tara was attacked, to spending half a day by her side while she was unconscious, all the way to this moment. There weren't even that many tears there to cry, but damn, did it feel good to release those emotions.

"Right, I'm gonna go get Tara and Sam now. See you soon," you felt lighter, much lighter, as if those tears released the tension within you that you didn’t even realize you had.

Tara's room wasn't too far from your own, she was like five doors down the hall, and you didn't even try to suppress your grin when you saw Tara awake, still wearing your jacket, and with Sam. "Why hello my favorite person and Sam," you leaned against the door frame as the sisters turned toward you.

"You're also so high right now," you could see the brightness in Tara's eyes even from where you stood, the relief caused by seeing you, and Sam, as if in on a secret chuckled lightly.

You turned around as if looking for something. "There's a joke that went right over my head somewhere in the hall. Anyway, glory to the painkillers," you said, causing Tara to giggle as you approached her bed and crouched right next to her. "You okay?"

"You're the one that got hurt, you know?" she said incredulously.

"Meh, details. You had an asthma attack," you replied, not even looking down when you felt her hand taking your own.

"And you had a heart attack," she squeezed your hand, her fingers trembling slightly, and you placed your right hand on her forearm, lightly moving your fingers up and down along it to comfort her.

You smiled when she visibly relaxed at the gesture. "And now we're in a who got off easier contest. Well, you better be okay because I'm taking you the hell out of here."

Tara nodded and tilted her head toward Sam. "Yeah, Sam and I just talked. She had the same idea," well that definitely made things easier.

"I'll just get Richie and we can go to Modesto," Sam said, which didn't make things easier.

"Yeah, no. Great that you're coming with us, but we're not going to Modesto and we are not taking Richie," you put your foot down. How did Sam not realize Modesto wasn't safe for Tara? Or her for that matter?

"Wait, Y/N-" Sam began, but you weren’t having it.

"I'm not waiting, Sam. Bastards are after you, right? So, they very likely know you were in Modesto before. I'm not letting you take Tara, or go there by yourself while we're at it, when it's the second most dangerous place for both of you," you didn't want to argue, you really didn't, but you would if that's what you needed to do.

Tara pulled your hand slightly, and you looked at her, smiling once again. In the end she’d choose who she wanted to go with, if you and Sam couldn’t come to an agreement. The look in her eyes told you she’d go with you. Not that you’d ever make her choose. She just got Sam back in her life, and you weren’t taking that from her. If you really couldn’t reason with Sam in any way, you’d still go with them, because no matter how dangerous the place was, you’d at least be able to fight for Tara.

Luckily, Sam contemplated your words and seemingly saw your reasoning as she nodded. “Fine,” she sighed.

"Where do we go then?" Tara asked, clearly relieved that there wasn’t an argument between you and Sam.

"Sacramento. I made a call a few minutes ago. Susan is a nurse; she can make sure your recovery is going fine and she'll let us stay at her place. Before you ask, if anyone figured out the connection between me and Susan, they'd have to be one hell of an investigator. More importantly, no one in their right mind would think I'd go to her of all people. So, it should be safe, or, at the very least, buy us time to recover," even if whoever attacked you went to your parents to ask where you could be and somehow got them to take a guess, they would never make the connection.

"Okay, what about Richie?" Sam questioned.

"One is a male, regardless of how injured I am, Amber, Mindy, Liv, they can't hold me down, and if the logic is that it's someone you or Tara know, well, now it's between him and Chad," you scrolled the news when you woke up, trying to delay calling Susan. So, you knew. You knew about Wes and Judy. It hurt, but you had to prioritize. "I don't know about you; I'd rather avoid taking that chance."

Sam nodded. "Let's get going then. You'll need some clothes right, so we should make a stop by your place. Is it still the same address?" she was pushing her emotions back, trying not to consider the possibility that her boyfriend was behind this. You honestly admired the way she focused on keeping Tara safe and nothing else.

"Nope, new address. Some of Tara's stuff is there as well, so we won't have to go back to Tara's place. I'll go pick that up, you get Tara ready and then we get the fuck out of here,” and that's how things went, sure, you were a bit irresponsible for driving in the state you were in, but it was Woodsboro, and there wasn't a lot of traffic, especially this late.

You came back to the hospital to find Sam outside with Tara and two women you didn't recognize, though one looked suspiciously like Gale Weathers. That would make the other Sidney Prescott? Oh well, none of your business. You stepped outside, placed Tara's bag on the back seat, and while smiling at Tara to reassure her you were fine reached down to pick her up.

"Y/N wait," you halted at her concerned tone.

"Yeah?" you tilted your head to the side.

Tara had the perfect 'Are you for real right now' face. "Your injuries," she reminded you.

"Really Tara? You weigh like, a hundred pounds and a potato, a very small potato by the way," you lifted her up and took a deep breath. "Okay, maybe not a very small potato, but a potato nonetheless,” come on, damn it, you benched almost twice her weight!

Tara let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as she facepalmed. "See? I told you?"

"You said, and I quote: your injuries, it's not injuries, you're just heavy. It's a potato that broke the MMA fighter's back or something like that," you reached the right side of the car and only then realized you made a grave mistake. "Uh, mind opening the doors, my hands are kinda full?" you

Tara shook her hand in disbelief and tried to reach the handle with her right hand. Which didn't exactly work. "Sam, a little help here?" she called out as she looked at her left hand. She wasn't sure she could grip the handle hard enough to open the doors. The other Ghostface squeezed her injured hand and then even further injured it, not to mention she somewhat opened the wound herself when she was forced out of her hospital room. How bad was her hand now?

Sam was quick to open the doors and you gently sat Tara down. You made sure her leg was comfortable and closed the doors. While you placed the wheelchair and the crutches in the trunk Sam finished her chat with the two women. By the time you were done, Sam was already in the driver's seat. that was a weird experience, seeing someone else in your seat. Sure, you taught Tara how to drive, but this was different.

The moment you got in the car next to Tara she leaned over and rested her head on your right shoulder. Her bag was moved to the front seat with the bag you picked up from your apartment, thus removing any barrier between you two. It wasn't like you wanted a barrier, she just had her inhaler there, so you figured it would be better if she had it near her. Either way, Tara made a different call, so you smiled and eagerly wrapped your right arm around her. In approximately three hours you'd see Susan again and it made you anxious to think how that would turn out. She sounded eager enough to help, but still... Before you could get too worried or forget about that detail you sent Susan a message, saying you were on your way.

"Are you sure we can trust Susan?" Sam's question stopped your train of thought for a moment.

"Yeah, she's my half-brother's mother," surprisingly it wasn't difficult to say that. There was a time when even thinking about Zack felt difficult, but it looked like time did make things easier. Or maybe you just grew up and learnt to deal with it better.

"Half-brother?!" if you weren't holding her, you were sure Tara would have sat up, well, she tried to, but you were kinda too tired to move your arm and let her do it.

"You didn't know?" Sam really didn't phrase that question correctly.

"You did?!" the painkillers they gave Tara must have been way stronger than the ones they gave you since she pushed her way out of your grip as if she was perfectly fine. Granted, she did lean on your side to do it. The same side that got shot...

"Gah, easy Tara!" you groaned, wincing at the pain.

"Shit, sorry!" she winced, biting her lower lip when she saw you breathing through your teeth. Yup, definitely weaker painkillers.

"You okay?" Sam asked, as if her question didn't get you in this situation.

You gave her a thumbs up. "Talk it out while I recover."

"Talk what out?" and the older Carpenter was confused. How? You had no idea. Now, sure, you and Sam were never all that close, you got along mostly for Tara’s sake back when you and Tara were kids, and normally Tara would know there was no way you’d say to Sam something you weren’t willing to share with her. Right now, however, the way Sam phrased the question made it appear as if you did do just that.

"Did you know, Sam?" and Tara was right back on track, it was probably good that you were in a car and not somewhere she could properly move.

"Of course I didn't, I just thought if someone knew you'd know," Sam immediately corrected her mistake and Tara frowned.

"She's telling the truth, Tara. I didn't tell anyone. Zack's been dead for almost a decade now so there wasn't a point in mentioning him," you decided to be quick and to the point with the conversation. Hoping they'd get the hint and drop it.

"We're here if you ever need to talk, right Tara?" Sam got the hint, that was for sure, and if there was any chance whatsoever that Tara didn't, that definitely got the point across.

Tara did what only Tara could do to you. She wrapped her arms around you and, while avoiding your wounds, and her own, which was actually really impressive, leaned into you. "That goes without saying," she said with so much conviction it nearly shattered all your defenses. Before you could speak, she pressed a finger against your lips. "Don't say thank you."

You grinned at that, and she removed the finger. "This is really not a comfortable position Snuggle Tar-Bear," you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Also, you were worried about her leg. Sure, she positioned it in a way that made it seem okay, but maybe painkillers prevented her from realizing if something wasn't right.

"Don't care. You need me," she mumbled into your neck, and you gave in, shifting so the two of you were half lying on the backseat. Your upper back, which also meant one of your stab wounds, was pressed against the doors, but you figured it was worth it.

Your mind was in shambles over everything happening. Tara was attacked, you had a heart attack, Zack died from heart disease, and you were going to see Susan for the first time since Zack's funeral. You were going to see Susan, because you needed to keep Tara safe.

All of that and the memories that came with it flooded your mind. Made you restless.

It was a simple story. You met the brother you didn't know you had, he changed your life, introduced you to MMA, died, and then his death subsequently ruined your relationship with your parents. After his death, your life fell apart, going from arguing with your parents to silence, then back to arguing, then again back to silence, until even arguing ended and all that was left was to wait until you were eighteen.

That was why the discomfort and pain were worth it because Tara made those thoughts quiet. So, you closed your eyes, hoping to take a nap.

"Y/N," Tara, though, had a different idea.

"Hmm?" you didn't open your eyes, but she knew you were listening.

"What did you mean when you said I saved a life that had no right to continue?" and, as if she somehow chose this day in particular to learn everything you kept under lock and key, she just had to ask that question.

Suddenly, talking about Zack and your parents felt like an amazing idea and a wonderful way to pass the time until you got to Susan's home. You raised an eyebrow, silently wondering if she really had to make you bare your soul to her sister as well? You liked Sam, you really, genuinely did, but not to the point of wanting to just spill everything to her. Maybe eventually, if she decided to stick around and you got close, but not now.

And then there was the fact that she did, in fact, abandon Tara. Now, you weren’t in any position to criticize her for leaving, you knew Christina Carpenter, anyone would want to get as far from that woman as possible. You, yourself, wanted to take Tara away from that place the moment she turned eighteen. So, no, you didn’t blame Sam for leaving, you blamed her for leaving Tara, because she could and should have stayed in contact with Tara, and not just vanish without a trace. But she came back, and was ready to fight to protect Tara, so that was enough for Sam to go back to the list of people you liked.

Immediately, another thought popped into your head, and you realized Sam being there was a blessing in disguise. Tara asked you a direct question and if there was one rule you lived by it was that a direct question needed to be answered and answered honestly. Knowing what the answer was and knowing how Tara was going to react you figured having Sam there would be beneficial. At least, with Sam hearing it from you, it would avoid Tara needing to talk to someone other than you about it and then awkwardly explaining the issue without revealing what you told her.

"I nearly killed myself," Tara froze, Sam nearly got all three of you killed with how abruptly she hit the brakes in the middle of the road, you barely kept you and Tara on the back seat. Luckily you hadn’t reached the highway yet so the car behind you had enough time to stop. "Sam, please, if I have to die in my own car, at least let me be behind the wheel," you groaned, delaying the moment you would have to look Tara in the eyes as the driver that was behind you furiously flipped you off. For once you figured it was a well-deserved middle finger.

You finally glanced down. Tara looked heartbroken, it was the only word that could describe the look on her face. "What?" you hated how choked her voice sounded. So, you spoke. You told the story.

There was no way you could ever forget that day. You dreaded the potential of that day ever coming up in a conversation with Tara, yet here you were. All because you couldn't keep your mouth shut. 'Now deal with the consequences,' was all you could think.

~X~

It's been half a year since you made an agreement with your parents. The moment you turned eighteen you'd leave the damn place and never see them again. You'd stop arguing, you'd play the role of their daughter in their sick facade of a perfect little family. They, in turn, would have no say in anything you were doing as long as it didn't tarnish their reputation.

So, now, with fighting off the table all that remained was silence. Silence at home. Silence at school, because Woodsboro wasn’t exactly welcoming to newcomers and not a lot of people accepted your love for MMA and the way it shaped your body. And while your training and skill in martial arts protected you from bullying, most people didn’t want to associate with you. Silence. Silence. Everything was silent. The only one filling the silence was Tara and to an extent her friend group, but you weren't part of that group. You were Tara's slightly older friend.

They messed you up. Your parents, that is. And now here you were. Lying on your bed. The phone was on do not disturb. And you looked to your right.

To the gun on your pillow.

Thousands of thoughts and questions plagued your mind, yet not a single one became coherent enough to latch on to it. To maybe get you to put the gun back in your parents' room. To forget it existed and keep going.

You sat up.

Why do it? A small part of you wondered. A much larger part responded with another question. Why not?

You reached out and placed your hand on the gun.

Silence ends with a bang. The emptiness will be filled. Everything begins and ends in a single moment.

And then, just as you placed your finger on the trigger, The Babadook theme began playing. Startled, you nearly dropped the gun, but somehow you managed to safely put it away and, albeit with shaky hands, managed to pick your phone up and answer. "How's it going Snuggle Tar-Bear," you hated how out of breath you sounded.

"Awful, mom won't be home for a couple of days and I'm so bored," Tara's voice was a reminder of what you almost did. How did it get to this point? "Wanna sleep at my place tonight? I promise I won't make you watch The Babadook again."

You weren't sure how long you didn't speak, but when you did you somehow managed to sound normal, like you weren't about to put a bullet through your head. You felt the need to throw up as you kept the conversation going. You had to end it, you had to... you didn't know what you had to do.

The call ended and you dropped down on your bed, biting the pillow to keep any sounds from coming out. The fuck was going on with that timing? You somehow managed to set an alarm to go off in half an hour and just closed your eyes.

Your head was empty, your heart beating rapidly as your eyes landed on the gun. Were you really about to do it? Just pull the trigger? What would that solve?

You barely felt the time pass when the alarm rang and you got up, you got up while letting it ring in the background. You changed your clothes, picked up the necessary things for the sleepover, and finally turned the alarm off. You forgot to put the gun back. You were still in a daze when you reached Tara's home. You were still in a daze when she opened the doors. You only snapped out of it when she touched your cheek.

"I'm here, I'm okay," somehow your brain managed to connect the concern in her eyes and the question you barely heard. You stepped inside and picked her up, and it felt like the pieces of the puzzle you didn't even know you were trying to piece together were getting put in all the right places all at once.

You wondered why not an hour ago and as Tara, the same Tara who was already left behind by her father and by Sam, who already had to deal with an alcoholic mother, wrapped her arms around your neck and held on as if you'd leave her too, you had your answer. You had your why not. So, you didn't let go as quickly as you usually would. You held on just a bit longer, letting Tara ground you, letting her effortlessly keep you by her side. "Thanks for calling, I'm sorry you had to," for the moment the daze was gone, and you let her pull you inside, and when the theme song that stopped you from pulling the trigger played in the background of the movie began, you pulled Tara a bit closer. Tara looked up and you just smiled, silently telling her to keep watching. She raised an eyebrow at that but complied, though you did notice she held onto you a bit tighter than before.

Back then she occasionally fell asleep in your arms, but you didn't sleep in her bed. No, that only began happening shortly after Tara turned sixteen. So that night, the moment Tara went to sleep, and you were left on your own, it all just came back. Or you came back to it as if pulled back by an invisible chain. You didn't know. It didn't matter. You were being pulled back into that vortex of desperation.

You were naive. You thought finding your why not would end those thoughts. You thought it would solve everything. It didn't.

It just gave you a reason to cling on and stay alive. So, you did just that. One day at a time.

When you came back home you didn't find the gun in your room and when you went to the kitchen to get something to eat the silence was broken for the first time in almost two months. "Buy your own if you want to do it," yeah, loving parents.

~X~

"It was a struggle for a while. I'd think I was getting better, then I'd relapse back into those thoughts. One day I'd be fine, the next I'd be punching my way through the day just to stop thinking. Still, it got better over time, and," you paused, taking in the expression on Tara's face, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she kept holding onto you. "...most importantly, I never, ever, picked up the gun, or anything that could kill me, again. Never with that intention."

"Why did you never tell me?" Tara's voice was weak, small, the fingers of her right hand gingerly caressing the back of your neck. "Why did I never notice?" she sounded furious, angry at herself over not noticing sooner.

"Tara, you were already doing everything you could even without knowing about it. I'd gain nothing by telling you and you'd worry and stress about it," also saying something would mean you'd have to talk about Zack as well, and you weren't ready to talk about him now, let alone almost five years ago.

"For nearly five years. I didn't notice anything for nearly five years!" she was shaking now. As you feared, all of this was too much for her right now.

"Tara, please stay calm!" you could see Sam struggling not to turn around. "I get how you feel, but please stay calm. Y/N is alive. She's doing better now. You've been with her, right? You were kids, that was as much as anyone could have asked of you."

"I wasn't there. For the last three months, I wasn't there," and in those three months, you were feeling lost. Her eyes met yours and you could see the turmoil she was feeling. Her eyes were always the most expressive eyes you had ever seen. "I left you to deal with it alone. I aba-" for the first time since you've known Tara you placed your hand over her mouth. She could say anything else, but never what she was about to say.

"Don't even think that," you warned. "Never think that," you couldn't let her go there, to let those thoughts consume her. "You couldn't know," slowly you moved your hand from her mouth and gently brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear.

"I should have known."

"I didn't let you."

She wasn't quite as calm as you or Sam would have liked her to be, and you could see the turmoil in her eyes, you could feel it in her grip, in her refusal to let you go. She had the same expression she had earlier in the hospital, while she was desperately trying to put pressure on your wound. That got you thinking and without considering the idea for more than a few seconds, without considering her relationship with Amber you leaned in and kissed her left cheek.

You gave Tara plenty of time to react, to say something, or do anything to even imply you crossed a line. She didn't, instead, she let out a shaky breath. "Y/N," there was something different in the way she whispered your name.

"I'm here, Tara. I'm not going to leave you. I'll be in your life for as long as you want me to be," you whispered soft reassurances hoping it would calm her down.

"For the rest of my life then," Tara said with certainty that made you think your heart skipped a beat or two. It definitely began beating faster and you could only nod, not really trusting your voice to stay on your side if the conversation continued.

You'd have to pretend you didn't notice Sam glancing back at the two of you and giving you a 'You're dead if you hurt her' stare when you stopped at a traffic light.

You were fine with that, after all, you’d never hurt Tara. You loved her enough to go through anything, to fight anyone, to face whatever consequences, to give up on something and create something, Even more now that she nearly died, now that you nearly lost her you were not going to let anyone get between you two. As long as Tara wanted you by her side, you’d stay right there.

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[bookcrazyace]

Dick & Jason and Why We Need to Stop Mischaracterizing Them and Their Relationship

I know it's been brought up a million times and will probably be brought up a million more times but I wanted to put my 2 cents in. Jason and Dick and their relationship is grossly mischaracterized and it hurts the narrative. Now there isn't anything wrong with a little ooc content I'm a fanfic writer and I've fallen onto some of the more fanon sides of things to make it fit my narrative better but the problem arises when people mistake fanon for canon and bring it up in serious fandom discussions.

Dick was the first Robin so we'll start with him first. Characterizing Dick as the happy-go-lucky Robin is very distinctly wrong and actually quite the opposite of what he actually was. Dick wanted revenge for the death of his parents and that's what drew Bruce to him in the first place. Bruce made Batman to focus his anger and grief into something productive that would help people. When he recognized the same yearning for vengeance in Dick he trained him so that Robin could be for Dick what Batman was to him, a coping mechanism. In the end Dick manages to let go of the notion of revenge and it means that Robin succeeded and he then takes on a new identity, Nightwing (Canonically Dick and Bruce start having arguments and that's more the reason he leaves but from a narrative perspective Dick going from Robin to Nightwing can be seen as him getting rid of the feelings of revenge and gaining new goals. Also it's an excellent juxtaposition to the fact that while Robin succeeded in freeing Dick Bruce is still Batman.) Dick starting off as a vengeful spirit and blossoming into one of the most outwardly cheerful members of the batfam (despite the most definitely present repressed anger) is so much more powerful than him essentially not changing throughout the entire story especially when you consider that multiple times in canon Bruce has said that NIghtwing is better than Batman and what Batman was meant to be.

Jason ever the fan favorite and probably the person in the batfam that is misharacterized the most (in my opinion) is the next topic of discussion. Jason being the angry Robin takes so much away from his story and honestly I'm not vibing with it. One of Jason's notable lines as Robin is the phrase "Being Robin gives me magic!"you surely can't hear that and picture a violent criminal in the making. Jason being a street kid that jacks tires for a living but still being kind and childishly innocent makes him as Robin so much more interesting. Jason's drive to help people is obviously heavily influenced by his mother and how he took care of her up until her death. The tragedy of his mother's death is what drives Bruce to him. Of course Jason's process of becoming Robin wasn't immediate like a lot of people believe, Jason was actually sent to an all boys school for a short period of time before realizing they were a front for a crime ring he then helped Batman take down their operation. I feel like after seeing all that one would lose their faith in most people but Jason didn't remember he wasn't Robin until after this incident and he still was so happy and bright. The big turning point in Jason's story (from what I remember I haven't read the comics in a while) Batman suspects he pushes a man they were chasing off of a roof (I don't remember if it's ever made clear whether he did or not) this puts a pretty big strain on their relationship. Soon after all that goes down Jason finds out that the same mother he grew up with, the same mother he took care of, the same mother he watched die isn't actually his mother. The tense atmosphere between him and Bruce in combination for his yearning for answers leads him to run away to find her. When he meets her she sells him out to the Joker who subsequently beats him with a crowbar and leaves him to die in a warehouse that's rigged to blow up. Jason's mother is in the warehouse too and he does everything he can to save her. In the end they both die but when Batman questions her Jason's mom tells him that he tried to save her. In most modern iterations of Jason's death story his mother is written out and his death is pinned on him and his "impulsive and brash decisions". When Jason comes back to Gotham after his revival he seeks vengeance and is incredibly violent a very stark contrast to the bubbly kid that was just happy to be there. Two of his most notable actions as Red Hood are decapitating the lieutenants of the top crime lords and delivering them in a duffel bag and attacking Tim Drake the new Robin in Titans Tower. Jason's main drive for attacking Tim and becoming a crime lord is the fact that he died, he died as Robin and he didn't think that children should have to take on crime in the way Bruce did Jason decided that the best way to get rid of crime was to control it. The way Jason went from sunshine personified to a gritty crime lord who was willing to kill is what makes his story so interesting. The way an innocent child that got exposed to the darkness of the world and got swallowed by it is what makes the story so meaningful. In comparison to Dick, Jason is Batman's greatest failure he became the very thing Bruce tried to prevent him from being, a vengeful spirit that kills. In some ways Dick and Jason's stories are opposites and parallels.

Now for Dick and Jason's relationship. Despite what a lot of people think Dick didn't hate Jason when he first appeared (I think there was a point where Dick wanted to adopt Jason but I don't remember). Making Dick hate Jason as Robin sort of ruins both of their character arcs Dick evolved past his hatred and need for vengeance and thus adores Jason, Jason growing into someone so angry and hating Tim as Robin despite the fact that Dick showed him so much kindness makes everything hit so much harder.

In conclusion, this isn't really a huge deal but I've been thinking about it a lot recently. I've written and read fics where Jason was an angry Robin and Dick was a happy one. I've written and read fics where Dick hated Jason at first. Fandom is all about what fans do with a piece of media they like and at the end of the day the characters can be whoever you want them to be. Don't let this post uninspire you or make you feel called out if you enjoy the more fanon dynamics and personalities of these characters. Fee free to point out any inaccuracies to me it's been a while since I've read the comics.

[goldensunsetchild]

♱ Odd Eye ♱ | SAGAU fanfiction|

[CW: SAGAU, cult themes, violence, imposter!creator, isekai'd reader, fem! reader. A little self indulgent.] Word count: 2.2k Author's note: please keep in mind that english is not my first language and that there may be some mistakes. I do hope that the story is coherent enough 😅.

Honestly I never ever considered the possibility because it was down from 0.001% so when it happened it surprised me, it really did. I was just laying down on the grass while looking at the clear blue sky completely flabbergasted still processing the situation, everything around me was different there was no doubt about it but what if I was actually dreaming? No, it can't be I already slapped myself to see if I was dreaming but it hurt the hell and nothing happened. Alright but what if maybe is just a lucid dream? Impossible, I already moved around a bit and normally you can't control your own body or anything that happens inside a lucid dream. I sighed before getting up on my feet once more.

What are you supposed to do after getting isekai'd? Interacting with the locals doesn't sound like a good idea, mainly because I don't know if I'm going to understand their language... In these kinds of situations I wish I had the assistance of something like great sage but I guess I wasn't lucky enough to gain a skill like that. I was so absorbed into my thoughts that I didn't realized that I got close to the borders of a city and it wasn't until I looked up from the ground that I noticed how familiar that city looked, I could never forget it... Mondstadt the city of freedom. Then I finally understood that I was in Teyvat.

Oh! Then entering the city might not be a good idea after all, what if I were to be stuck in this whole creator imposter situation? ... Yeah that's not going to happen absolutely not, so I drifted away to the path that led towards Springvale and if I kept following the route that I remember I could perfectly arrive at Dvalin's lair, yep that sounded pretty much safe. I did my best to hide from any person that I could find alongside the path because I didn't wanted to grab undesirable attention that might end up making me have to run away and to be honest my stamina sucks. Right! I forgot that I have bad stamina so is probably going to take me a while to get where I plan to go quickly.

I decided to stop when I entered to Wolvendom, noticing almost immediately that just a couple of steps from where I was, it was Boreas lair. I sat on the ground taking my time to catch my breath as I glanced at my surroundings, there was really no point of comparation between what was shown in the game versus the actual thing. I closed my eyes for a bit trying to catch the sound of the nature as almost no one dared to wander around the wolves territory, then the sound of footsteps startled me making me get up really quick ready to run away.

"There's no doubt, I could never mistake this scent, for is the one that belongs to the mighty creator."

I heard a voice speaking almost immediately recognizing it as Boreas voice.

"Yes, the smell.. It's Lupical."

Another voice spoke and by the lack on their vocabulary it was easy to deduce who it was: Razor.

"Creator? I'm just an ordinary traveler, I was just passing by and... I was about to leave, yes!. If you excuse me, I'll take my leave now."

I said trying not to sound nervous as I stepped back and turned away ready to leave.

But the young boy was more faster than me and he quickly blocked my path by standing in front of me.

"Lupical don't leave. Lupical can stay. Razor knows, the smell and the right eye."

He said and I blinked a little confused. Right eye? What does that mean?, in the end I decided to stay with them but just for a little.

"Alright, I'll stay with you guys." I said and Razor's eyes shined with happiness. "But only a little, I don't want to bother you guys too much."

What in the beginning was only meant to be a quick-stay ended up in a more than a month stay, every time I intended to leave Razor stopped me pleading me with staying a little bit more so in the end I obliged and stayed. But as time was passing by I started to get this feeling of uneasiness, because I soon noticed that the patrols of the Knights of Favonius were starting to come to Wolvendom more frequently like they were searching for something... or someone in particular.

It was only a matter of time before even the Acting Grand Master of the Knights, ended up coming and not greeting me in a friendly way like my instincts were telling me. It seemed that Razor was doing his best to keep the knights away from getting too much close to Boreas lair but the efforts seemed to get more ineffective with the passing of the days. I needed to come up with a strategy for the worst-case scenario: that the imposter alternative universe was an actual thing and if it's truly like this... escaping was meant to be difficult and negotiating wasn't going to be on the table.

If I put at use the variable that, I'm the truly the creator, then there are a few more variations that I would need to include. First, in case that a = me has x = a power I would need to figure out x to see if I could get a chance in scaping from f, the knights, and have a 0.01% of chances of surviving. The game changing is if x is or not a power that would allow me to get away without getting harmed, if it ends up being something useless I'm not going to make it alive and would die at the hands of the super duper loyal acolytes of the fake creator. But how do I figure out if I have powers? Do I just do random gestures to see if something happens? Well I guess that's better than just not doing anything at all.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating on feeling any possible sign of a flow of elemental energy running inside of me. But as much as I tried I couldn't feel anything, maybe I didn't have any powers... no, wait; it's too early to give up come on, think! Then I remembered something, according to Hinduism the human body has seven main circles of energy, the chakras and these often can get blocked and misaligned... maybe I cannot feel the flow of elemental energy because my emotions are blocking everything.

Normally one would start with the one at the base of the spine, but for now let's try to unblock the chakra that corresponds to air, or in this world, anemo. Anahata, the heart chakra that it's associated with the air element - located at the center of the chest; it deals with feelings such as love, compassion, emotional security, forgiveness and kindness. But, it tends to get blocked by one particular emotion: grief; so I took a deep breath concentrating once more in finding what was the grief that kept my heart chakra closed. After finding it, I needed to let it go and forgive so the pain would go away freeing not only my heart but also allowing the anemo energy to flow inside of me.

Then, I finally started to feel it and I imagined a wind current lifting me up so, when I opened my eyes I found myself floating in the air high up above Wolvendom. Upon seeing everything on the ground from so high in the sky and feeling how the wind softly kept me up from falling I understood why air was the element of freedom; it was as the imaginary shackles that kept me tied to the ground had suddenly disappeared. Then I slowly started to descend to the ground, it was as if the wind was holding me with care and when my feet touched the ground my body felt more light than before.

Now, if I can fly then I should be able to escape if things get messy. Though, for the next two months I kept practicing levitation and a little bit of flying secretly awaiting my signal to leave in other words the Knights of Favonius arrival to Boreas lair. I honestly don't have the desire to hurt anyone but if it means that I can guarantee my freedom and survival, I'll do whatever it takes to achieve that... even if it means taking extreme measures.

After a while without them appearing I initially thought that they might have just gave up but when I saw Razor running inside of Boras lair as fast as his legs allowed him I knew that they finally arrived. As I predicted Jean was leading the party that came to face me, of course between all the faces there I saw Kaeya too but the one who surprised me the most was Lisa... because she usually never got involved in things of these matters. I stood up from where I was sitting and put myself in front of Razor in a protecting manner, he was breathless and glanced up at me with a face that was saying that he should be the one doing that and not me.

Jean looked at me and without her saying a word I understood... for them I'm an imposter.

"I see, so the reports are true. There's someone who is trying to impersonate our holy creator, taking her face is enough of a blasphemy but affirming to be her is even worse."

She said.

"That's not true. Lupical does not lie. Razor knows, it's creator."

Razor said in an attempt to defend me from what Jean said. I gave him a glance and shaked my head.

"There's no need for you to defend me, Razor. I know it upsets you but arguing with stubborn people will lead you to a blocked road. If they want me to leave this place, I'll do as they ask."

I said softly to him. His eyes looked saddened, I knew that he was probably feeling so powerless right now but if leaving was the most peaceful answer then all I would have to do was leave. But my peaceful intentions were clearly not what they came for in the first place and I understood that when Jean drew out her sword.

"You are not going to leave, you are going to pay for your sins right here and now. Knights, seize her!"

I sighed.

"Just as I expected."

I mumbled softly before turning around to glance at Razor, I smiled warmly at him.

"Thanks for your hospitality, Razor. I hope one day we can see each other again."

After that I created a wind current that lifted me up from the ground, I floated high in the air and glanced up at where the Knights were. It probably lasted about a second but my eyes never let the eyes of the people gathered in there, after that my body went higher and I left my body be guided by wind. Soon I left Wolvendom behind, the wind currents slowly were guiding me to where I first intended to go: towards Dvalin's lair.

[ Kaeya's POV ]

Right after Jean gave the order to capture the imposter, she suddenly created a wind current and lifted from the ground. As she kept going more higher she glanced up at everyone and when she did that... I don't know why but I felt a sense of familiarity. It was so strange but for a reason I felt like I had seen those eyes so many times. After that failed attempt in capturing the imposter we returned to the headquarters, there Jean summoned me and Lisa to her office so we went there. Upon entering she stayed silent for a while before starting to speak.

"That imposter... I never thought she could be able to hold elemental power. It seems that she has an anemo vision that's the only explanation at why she used the power of the wind to fly and upon hearing what she said it seemed that she already knew about our plan of capturing her. If only we could have arrived way sooner maybe we could have captured her by surprise. Lisa, where do you think the imposter left to?"

Lisa stayed silent for a bit.

"I'm not completely sure but the direction seemed to be towards the Stormterror's lair."

Jean huffed. That was quite the difficult place to get access to.

"Without mentioning Dvalin himself, that place is infested of hilichurls and Abyss mages. It seems we are going to be unable to move without a proper strategy, Acting Grand Master."

I commented. And Jean rubbed her temples, she knew that I was right so even if we wanted to go right now we couldn't do that. It was going to take some time before we could be able to chase her clue and even so... Why do I still keep thinking about her? Why does her eyes look ... so oddly familiar to me?

To be continued.

[randoimago]

Day 13. Selkie Rohan x Reader

note(s): Rohan and Selkie is definitely an interesting combo and I hope I wrote this alright!

requested by anon

Rohan wasn’t really looking for romance or anything of the sort. Humans fascinated him and gave inspiration for his stories. So shedding his skin and living as a human was easy for him where it may be difficult for others of his kind.

Of course, once he started growing famous from the manga he’d write and draw, he needed someone to manage his schedules and things. There are still many human concepts that he doesn’t grasp or care to take time to understand. And that led to him hiring you.

He didn’t really speak to you in the beginning, figuring you’d be like other humans that saw him as a pretty face. Rohan would sometimes give you specific orders, but besides that he let you handle things. Your resume was good enough that he had trust in you, so long as you listened.

Over time, Rohan grew more curious about you. He’d ask questions, learn about things you enjoyed. Sometimes he’d bring up ridiculous hypotheticals just to see your reaction. Although none of your reactions were as funny as when he’d “waste” money on things like a third house somewhere that’s supposedly haunted.

Rohan should’ve known that your curiosity as his… maid? Manager? Whatever job title you had. He has enough money and your resume is good enough to handle a lot of things he doesn’t have time for. But, he should’ve known that your human curiosity would get the better of you.

There was one room he told you to stay out of. But his trust grew in you and so he asked you to get him some art supplies from the room, so long as you didn’t snoop around. Maybe it is partially his fault for not specifying where the supplies were.

Rohan heard you muttering before you came back into his office, holding up his shedded skin with a look on your face like it was gross.

“Is this from another animal you killed just for inspiration?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“You make it sound like I steal people’s pets and kill them.” He ignored the pointed look on your face. “That’s just my skin, go put it back.”

“Your… skin?”

“Yes, I’m glad you can hear.”

He recognized the annoyance on your face from his lack of clarifying. Rohan just let out a sigh as he finally gives you his full attention. “It’s a long story. We’d need to go to the beach for me to explain.”

“Did you kill a seal?” A smirk crosses Rohan’s face at your question.

“You’re getting warmer, but I promise I hadn’t killed anything.” He watches as you seem confused, annoyed, then finally tired of dealing with him being cryptic.

“Fine, don’t answer my question,” you say and turn away. “I have half a mind to throw this away.” He hears you mutter and a look of panic crosses his face. You have thrown away the remains of some mice he’s had as well as snake shed. He would not put it past you to throw out something else you deem as him not needing anymore.

Rohan stands and before you can blink, he has you against the wall, his hands on either side of his head. He’s not trying to intimidate you, especially with the look in his eyes.

“Do not throw it away. I can’t lose it,” he tells you, an almost pleading in his voice. While he has lived most of his life as a human, the sea still calls to him. The idea of losing his skin and being unable to ever go home is torture.

“Rohan, you’re acting weirder than usual.”

He lets out a sigh and looks at you. For a second, he’s curious about the reaction you’d make if he leaned in. But there are more important things to think about and so he steps back, giving you your space.

“How versed are you in mythology and folklore?”

“… Like dragons?”

Rohan makes a face. “Dragons, really?” You look annoyed again and he sighs. “Do you know what a selkie is?” He asks, deciding it’d be easier than having you tell him whatever myths you know of.

“Selkie? I think I’ve heard some people mention something about them living in the water.”

Rohan nods at your words. Considering how close the water is to this town, he’s not surprised that there are murmurs of selkie.

“Well, it’s what I am. That skin you’re holding is mine. I had to shed it to be able to pass as a human.” You look unsure about his words. You probably think he’s lost it.

“It’d explain how eccentric you are.” Rohan makes a face at your words.

“Eccentric? I’m perfectly normal.” He ignores your look again. “If you don’t believe me, we can go to the ocean and I can show you,” he adds, reminding you of that option. You still look unsure.

—

“It’s too cold to be at the beach, Rohan,” you complain and he ignores it as he holds his skin and walks closer to the water. A sigh of relief hits him as he steps into the water, always feeling relief when he comes back, and the skin in his hand begins to stick to him.

The transformation takes a moment and as Rohan treads the ocean water, he looks to where you’re standing on the beach, wide eyed and looking as if you’ve seen something unbelievable.

“This is my true form,” Rohan tells you, unable to help a smirk at your reaction. If he knew this is how you’d act then he’d have taken you to the beach years ago.

“What the fuck, Rohan.” Well you’re still functioning at least.

“Like I told you, I’m a selkie. Go to a library or something to learn more,” he says and rolls his eyes playfully at you. The water always does make him feel a bit more mischievous than usual. “I’m hungry. Want me to catch you a fish?”

Oh your reaction is priceless at that.

It’s rather amusing trying to answer your many questions. Especially when he finally sheds his skin again and you still don’t know how to react. Perhaps it’s still his mischievous nature but he lets out a long sigh, feigning annoyance.

“And now that you’ve seen my true self, we have to get married.” It’s not quite true, but he deeply enjoys your reaction at that.

[bluekat12345]

He's my son, not yours! Part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

This is based on a Transformers Rescue Bots crossover with Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes created by the brilliant @gelu-the-babosa-multiversal, check them out for more! This particular story is based on a discussion we've been having recently, hope you enjoy!

After meeting the Rescue Bots, Charlie never thought his and his kids' lives couldn't get more...exciting. They already had their hands full of between rogue or malfunctioning technology, a colorful collection of criminals, and of course, civilians who needed rescuing.

But then the Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes, showed up at Griffin Rock.

They had temporary stationed themselves in a small base and their boss, Nick Fury, who had actually aided Optimus in introducing the bots to Charlie in the first place, didn't give Chief much information on why they were, just that hopefully it wouldn't negatively impact the island.

So far, things to be fine, they were aware of the bots, so that was nice, and they seemed to get along with the Burns and the Greenes.

One of them in particular, Captain America, especially left an impression on Cody. The boy always seemed to want to be around him, always had stars in his eyes at the sight of the war hero, and the captain always seemed more than ready to give the boy the attention he wanted. It was amazing how well the bonded in the short amount of time they've known each other.

It wasn't long until most people started calling him the Captain's kid. Steve nor Cody seemed to be mind though. In fact, it's been rumored that Captain America actually loves it when hearing Cody being called his kid.

If Charlie didn't know any better, he would've thought the captain was trying to be a second father to Cody.

"Hey, Cap!" Tony, AKA Iron Man, exclaimed. "Your sidekick's here!"

"My what?" Captain American, also known as Steve Rogers, asked in confusion.

"Captain America!" Cody's voice echoed through the base. Steve smiled as he saw the young boy run towards.

"Cody!" The captain greeted. "It's great to see you again. What brings you back here?"

"Cody wanted to see you again." His father, Chief Burns responded. "And Fury wanted to speak with the bots and the rest of the team about something. Is it okay if Cody stays with you until it's over?"

Steve nodded with a smile. "Of course, Chief Burns. I don't mind at all."

The police chief smiled back. "Thank you, Captain. Shouldn't take too long." Then he faced his son. "Be on your best behavior, Cody."

"I promise, Dad!" Cody, promised. Then Chief walked off to wherever the meeting was being held.

"Hey, kid." Tony called out. "Wanna join in a little experiment I'm working on? I can guarantee it'll be more exciting than whatever Cap can do." Steve rolled his eyes, recognizing the teasing tone in Stark's voice. Tony already knew what Cody's answer would be.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark, but I'll stay with Captain Rogers." Cody replied. "We're going to-"

"No need to hear the detail's, kid." Tony interrupted. Steven frowned at the interruption, but Cody didn't seem to mind. "Just go have fun and don't give the old man a hard time."

"Let's go, Cody." Steve declared, then he led Cody away before Stark could say anything else.

"Are we still going to work on your motorcycle?" Cody asked eagerly.

Steve smiled and nodded. "Indeed, son. Your dad ever have you help him with car maintenance?"

"A little bit, at first." Cody admitted. "When we had time, he let me help with his old police car. But then the bots joined us, so we don't do that kind of thing anymore. But we do help wash the bots when they're in vehicle mode."

Steve nodded. Admittedly, he was still caught off guard about the idea of sentient vehicles from another planet, but after meeting the bots and hearing about the from Cody and the rest of his family, he could see they were good bots who did their duties as rescue workers well.

"Well, consider this as a way to brush up on those skills." Cap declared. "Then the next time you show your father, he'll know you haven't forgotten what he taught you, and maybe even learned something new."

Cody smiled at the idea. "Yes, sir!"

Fortunately, for the Burns family, the meeting didn't take too long, it was mostly about if they saw anything unusual, at least more unusual than they normally would see, and what they needed to do if they did.

The moment it ended; the older kids wanted to stick around the base a little longer, hoping to hang out with the Avengers for a bit. Unfortunately, they needed to get home as soon as possible.

"Its just still a bit unfair that Cody gets to hang around here, while we can't." Kade grumbled.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, but today isn't a good day, we have work to do back at home. I promise you can hang around here when there's time."

"Hey, where is Cody?" Graham asked.

"I left him with Captain America while we were at the meeting." Charlie replied. Kade let out a quick annoyed huff, only to be quickly silenced by an elbow in the arm by Dani. "You three head back home. I'll meet you all after I get Cody."

The three did as they were told, leaving the base as Charlie went to look for Cody.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for him to find his son. He was still with Captain America, but the boy was sitting on the captain's motorcycle, revving it up while Steve watched with a smile.

"You've got some competition, Chief." Iron Man's voice popped up out of nowhere.

"What are you taking about?" Charlie asked.

Tony then pointed at Cody and Steve, and both men watched as two blonds laughed about something and Steve ruffling Cody's hair.

"If you're not careful, Cap could take your place as Cody's dad." Tony declared with a teasing grin. "People around here are already saying he's Cap's kid."

Chief Burns rolled his eyes. "I think I'll be fine."

Stark shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Then he shouted. "Hey, Cap! Time to give the kid back!"

The two blonds looked towards Charlie and Tony. Cody smiled, got off the bike, and rushed to his Dad. "Hey, Dad. How was the meeting?"

Charlie shrugged. "Nothing major happened. You didn't give Captain Rogers any trouble?"

"None at all." Steve replied with a grin as he joined the group. "You've got a well-behaved young man here." He added as he ruffled Cody's hair again. "And a clever one as well. You ought to be proud of this one."

Chief Burns smiled. "Trust me, I am." Then he said to Cody. "Why don't you head outside to meet Chase. I'll join you shortly."

The boy nodded. "Okay, Dad." Then waved to the Captain. "Thanks again, Captain Rogers!" Then he ran off outside.

"Keep up the good work, son." Captain America replied before walking off as well.

"It's already happening." Tony quietly teased.

Charlie rolled his eyes before leaving to join Cody. He knew Tony was teasing, but it was starting to get on his nerves a bit. There was nothing to worry about. Despite the nickname as Captain Roger's kid, Chief Burns knew everyone knew Cody was his son, not Steve's.

Hope you enjoyed reading! Nothing dramatic yet, I want to try to build up to it, but the seeds have been planted, I assure you. Hopefully, you won't have to wait long for the next part to be posted. Wish me luck!

[weirdkpopgirl]

Promise | Jaemin Imagine #8

Title: Promise

Genre: Angst

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and breakdowns

Word Count: 1.3k

Author's Note: I'm aware that anxiety often takes center stage in my stories, and yet, here's another one I've penned, this time focusing on Jaemin. Drawing from my own struggles, I aimed to portray the challenges of being close to someone dealing with mental health issues. Even with a strong support system, it doesn't guarantee that your problems will vanish miraculously. To all those who grapple with similar issues, I hope this story encourages you to seek help if possible because you deserve happiness and good health.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

From the beginning, you and Jaemin had a fairly healthy relationship that was envied by your friends and family. Apart from the initial awkwardness (primarily on your side) during the early stages of dating, both of you treated each other with plenty of tender loving care. 

You could truthfully say that Jaemin wasn’t just your boyfriend, but also your closest confidant. Perhaps it was the fact that the two of you had been friends for a substantial period before dating. Being each other’s partners allowed a deeper understanding of one another, resulting in almost no arguments between the two of you. That being said, because he knew you so well, there was one factor that occasionally led to turbulence in your relationship.

Anxiety has been a constant companion throughout your life. It was much like a friend you recognized as toxic but still chose to spend time with. Lacking a proper support system during your childhood, coping with life as an adult became significantly more challenging. For you, anxiety has been this silent struggle you had been battling alone. However, you didn’t realize the effect it was having on your otherwise, perfect relationship.

The irony was that Jaemin was the most supportive presence in your life. However, the issue lay in your reluctance to accept his support. Whenever you were in a state of distress, you tended to distance yourself from him and withhold your true feelings. He had witnessed you break down before, and it bothered him that you pushed him away.

One evening, after returning to your apartment late, Jaemin could see in your eyes that it was more than the part-time job that was taking a toll on you. He could discern from the restrained smile on your face that you had no intention of sharing it with him. At that moment, Jaemin reached the point where he couldn't bear it any longer.

The warmth of his hand atop yours gained your attention. Gazing at you softly, he asked, “Princess, can we talk?”

“Why? Did I do something wrong?” you responded with a tinge of concern in your voice. You searched your memory for anything you might have upset him, but couldn’t think of anything specific.

After taking a deep breath, Jaemin met your eyes brewing with perplexity. You had no idea what he was about to say, which made him briefly consider retracting his words. However, he knew that he couldn’t allow anything to stop him.

“It’s about your anxiety, (Y/n),” Jaemin began to explain, using his most gentle tone. “I’ve noticed how much it’s impacting your physical and mental health. And I think that seeking help from a professional can make a difference.”

Yet no matter how delicately this subject was being brought up to you, your shoulders tensed and you withdrew your hand from his grasp.

Your eyes flashed with frustration. “Jaemin, therapy isn’t necessary—I’m fine.”

“But you don’t have to pretend you’re fine all the time. It’s okay to ask for help and lean on others. I just want what’s best for you, (Y/n),” he stressed. He could sense you retreating behind your wall, and he refused to let you block him again.

That was how this conversation escalated into the most intense argument you had ever experienced with Jaemin. He made a sincere effort to stay composed, but it proved challenging when you continued to shut him out and maintained your insistence that you could handle everything on your own. 

Nonetheless, voices were raised from both parties and the words that left your mouths stung immediately after they were said. So as quickly as the argument had started, it ended with you pushing away from him and storming out of the living room with your eyes glossed over with tears.

Guilt quickly consumed him and his previous frustration dissipated. After waiting a few minutes to give you some space, Jaemin quietly moved down the hallway in search of you. His feet stopped at the bathroom door when he saw the faint light seeping beneath it.

On the other side of the door, your shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked your body, leaving you barely able to catch your breath. 

Eventually, you heard a gentle knock on the door. “(Y/n), please let me in.”

A part of you wanted to tell him to go away and leave you alone. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he was done fighting. Yet, you couldn’t convince yourself that you deserve forgiveness. Not when the entire argument was your fault. Even though he had been nothing but patient and loving, it was you who didn’t have the courage to acknowledge your mental instability. You were the problem.

When you didn't respond, Jaemin decided to take matters into his own hands and cautiously pushed the door open. Inside, his heart ached when he found you seated across from the sink, your face buried in your knees, every part of your body trembling. He hadn’t intended for things to go this way.

Without any further hesitation, Jaemin joined you on the bathroom tiles, scooping you up into his arms. The comforting feeling of being held made you instinctively cling to him. Your tears soaked his shirt, but that was the least of Jaemin’s worries.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispered, his chin resting against your forehead as he stroked your hair. “I didn’t mean to pressure you like that.”

You grimaced inwardly as your voice wavered. “I'm the one who should be apologizing. I... I know I just push you away when I’m having a hard time. But you already do so much for me, and I just don’t want to be a burden."

“You could never be a burden, (Y/n),” the tips of his fingers lifted your chin slightly, allowing you to meet his sincere gaze. “You’re my everything, and I can’t stand to see you hurting alone.”

His simple, yet sweet words made you feel so warm inside. It was that moment you realized Jaemin was never going to leave your side, even if it meant seeing you at your worst. Your wall of emotions remained resolute, refusing to crumble any time soon. However, the better half of you wanted to let Jaemin break down those barriers.

Before you could say anything, Jaemin could feel the resistance in you slowly fade away. Your hand slipped into his, intertwining your fingers as you released a light exhale. “The idea of seeking help is terrifying. But if you’re with me, I think I can do it.”

“It makes me so happy to hear you say that,” Jaemin smiled and squeezed your hand reassuringly. “And I promise, we’ll face your anxiety together.”

Your cheeks warmed when he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. Then, he leaned in for a tender kiss on your lips, his fingers gently weaving through your hair. Your grip on his sweatshirt tightened as the kiss deepened, conveying all the love and understanding that words could never fully express. Jaemin's other arm remained securely wrapped around your waist as if it could shield you from all your worries.

When you finally pulled away, tears in your eyes had transformed into tears of happiness. "I love you, Jaemin."

"I love you too, Princess," he replied in a sing-song voice.

In that heartfelt moment, as he held you close, you both understood that your love had the strength to endure any storm, even the ones that threatened to tear the two of you apart. Despite the relentless assaults of your own mind, the love you shared with Jaemin served as a reassuring reminder that you could overcome it all, together.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Hii! Can i req lizzie hearts x fem!reader meeting her mother for the first time? :))

Hi hi! Happy to get request made

Love lizzie so I'm happy to write for her!

I hope you like what I've come up with and thanks for the prompt! Makes it easier for me to see where the story should go

_________________________________________

Promt: the reader and Lizzie go to wonderland so that she can be introduced to Lizzies mom

She/her pronouns for the reader

Will be using [Name] as substitute for (y/n)

Fluff/nervous and tense (since she's meeting lizzie's mom)

Nickname for the reader- My Rose

Art not mine found on pinterest

____________________________________________

Lizzie Hearts is shown walking through the hallway alongside her is [Name] her girlfriend,who holds Lizzie's waist with her left arm, the two walk in sync.

We see [Name]'s face that seems very stressed out but she's trying to hide it as Lizzie chatted away happily "oh I just can't wait till you meet my mother today I just know she'll love you, well it's gonna take a while but sue will I'm sure of it" she snuggles onto [Name]'s shoulder giving her a reassuring smile

"Haha yeah...I really do hope so" she rested her head as the two walked past a group, [Name] recognized one and lifted her hand waving at them "do you want to try that new dress I made for you Rosette?" [Name] lifted her head looking down at Lizzie nodding her head in enthusiasm "oh yes please especially if we're matching" lizzie nods in agreement "love matching with you rosette" she got on her tiny toes and gave [Name] a kiss on her cheek

The two enter Lizzie's room and she quickly gets to work getting both their outfits from her closet as [Name] sits on the chair under her girlfriend's sewing table, she crosses her leg on the other waiting patiently with a soft smile waiting for Lizzie to emerge from her closet.

Lizzie who is still looking through her endless mountain of outfits grumbles "blasted things where is it'' she mumbles under her breath this makes [Name] giggles at her girlfriends little banter with the outfits she just can't pinpoint where they are "Ah! Here they are'' she twirls around with two dresses, lizzie goes up to [Name] and hands her the dress

They were mainly the signature colors that lizzie wore reds, blacks and golds but she added one more color by the colard of the dress was [Name]'s signature color, (f/c) it was a small part but even if it didn't entirely fit Lizzie's colors,she felt a fuzzy feeling that she considered and actually added it to her beautiful sewing. "Oh my!Liz you're the sweetest i love it!' [Name] ran up to Lizzie hugging her tight then picking Lizzie up twirling her around "Hahaha i'm happy to know you love it!" She giggles into her girlfriends chest

[Name] places her down taking the dress from Lizzie's hands "anything you make me I'll always be happy with" she leans down and places a gentle kiss on Lizzie's cheek leaving a kiss mark on it, she steps back "I'll change in the bathroom I'll be back, tell me if you need help with your corset and possibly help me too hehe" Lizzie nods her head giggling "okay thank you Rosette and I'll definitely hold you up on that offer~" [Name] gives a wink and walks to the bathroom with a hot face.

After several minutes [Name] comes out from the bathroom wearing the knee length dress "Hey Liz, I actually got mine on easier than usual. Did you change the design of the corset?" She tilted her head at Lizzie "yes I did, I didn't want you to be frustrated like last time-don't get me wrong I love your cute pout when you get angry or frustrated but I figured I'd change it to something more simpler" she turns around showing her's "I did it for mine as well so we'd match more" Lizzie turns back to face [Name] smiling

[Name] smiled back stepping closer she takes Lizzie's hand and walks up the the tall mirror, the two stood in front of it as they look contently at their matching dresses, lizzie had made two knee length red & black checker print with a small train at the back that covered the butt, with white lace ruffles on the inside looking out, a heart shape backless at the back that was covered somewhat with a sheer white mesh.

[Name] those a pose for fun and Lizzie follows along with her own, the two make a few more poses for fun giggling while doing so "looking good Liz~" [Name] looks at her in the mirror smirking "not as good as you rosette~" Lizzie wraps her arms around [Name]'s waist snuggling into her bosom " so squishy" making the (h/c) girl laugh

[Name] placed her hand on top of lizzie head and petted her hair gently "hmmm alright Liz as much as I love you snuggling into me,we should get going even if I'm a little nervous to meet your mom" [Name] confessed as she grabbed onto Lizzie with her left arm, squeezing her hip to ground herself from the the dreaded thought of "what if'

What if her mom didn't think she was good enough for Lizzie or what if she would make them break up because [Name]'s fairytale was a more lower status than her girlfriend what if-

"Hey! Snap out of it [Name]" Lizzie shook her girlfriend minutes after she had witnessed her stop all movements staying quiet as she silently contemplated every single thing she had to do right.

So Lizzie knew [Name] would over think any situation,especially meeting someone new, and since this was her mother [Name] was gonna meet she guessed this would happen. Lizzie grabbed [Name]'s hand and placed it on her soft fair cheek "it'll be alright rosette,she'll love you I just know it" Lizzie looked at her girlfriend with reassuring eyes and a squeeze on her hand

[Name] gives her a small smile and nod "your right i-i'm sorry I was over thinking even though I shouldn't, everything will be fine" she took a deep breath in and out "all fine"

___________. ____________

Lizzie and [Name] walk through the thick woods, sounds of the woodland creatures are heard from all directions. As the couple strutted on top the soft wet grass hand in hand they soon found themselves in front of a well. "Ready?" Lizzie asked "I think so" [Name] smiled sheepishly,

Lizzie went in first having her legs inside sitting,then takes her girlfriends hand and have her sit next to her both their legs inside and then with a push the two fall down down down the well

"Oof-" [Name] mutters as she lands on her butt and Lizzie lands perfectly "why did you land so elegantly?" Lizzie turns to her with a smug look "Natural talent,rosette" she says as she flips her hair " okay" [Name] says rolling her eyes as she gets up and dust herself off, Lizzie walks in front of her and mirrors her movements gently wiping off [Name]'s dress from the remaining dust.

"Thanks love" she gives Lizzie a kiss on the cheek, then grabs her hand "now lead the way love" and Lizzie does so

The two walk along a twisty path and they continue on through another forest but more wild than the one before "uhhh are you sure this is safe?" Lizzie nods "yup don't worry it's just a small part we have to go through just up ahead is the exit"

"Phew glad we got out of there love, I was getting chills!" [Name] exclaimed, rubbing her arms for emphasis, "oh come on it wasn't that bad" [Name] gave her a look "I mean- yes me too rosette!" Lizzie sighed once her girlfriend stopped and looked at their surroundings in awe "quite pretty isn't?" The (h/c)nette nodded and said "very in it's own crazy way..kinda like you"

"What do you mean?" Lizzie asked with a hint of curiosity "well your very pretty but there's this essences to you that's just so you..like a specific smell or sound that no one else can replicate cause it already is it's own thing, you are YOU but unlike anyone I've met and wonderland is something on it's own that can't be change just accepted with it's uniqueness and quirks" Lizzie stared starstruck at her girlfriends sudden poetic rant;her heart fluttering violently as if it was the first day they had held hands and shared a soft kiss on the cheek.

Lizzie hit her girlfriend's arm "Hey! What's that for?!" She didn't reply, just stood there with her cheeks red for a moment,then slamming her body into [Name], hiding her flustered face in the crock of the girl's neck which was hard since Lizzie had to get up on her tippy toes to do so.

"Hmpp" lizzie huffed making the (h/c)nette giggle "come on love we have to get there before the sun sets as much as i'd like to delay i don't wanna get lost in the dark" [Name] grabs shoulder and parts her away from her body making the stubborn princess groan in discontent but she eases and nods her head "your right rosette, let's go" she grabs her girlfriends hand and they continue their journey to the red queen's castle

____________________________________

Arriving at the gates of the castle they are let in by the guards quickly, Lizzie holds [Name]'s hand and squeezes it as they get to the queen's throne room

"Lizze there you are ,finally you have arrived and with your girlfriend you told me so much about it!" She's rather loud but it was to be expected, [Name] bows out of respect "it's a true honor to be meeting your majesty" you stay in that position "rise my child!" You do and take once again Lizzie's hand, the queen stands up from her throne walking down to meet the two, the queen looks at the two of you with a poker face expression then turns to lizzie ``do you truly love her?" Lizzie confidentiality says 'yes'

"Does she treat you right?" Lizzie replies "yes she does,even when I can be too much" the queen hums "does she treat YOU right?" She turns to you "yes she does,always looking out for me and if alright at any given time" you smile knowing it's true.

"Well then" the queen steps closer to the two of you "Welcome to the family!" She hugs you tightly, laughing happily that her daughter had found the right person to not only love but possibly rule with her only daughter. She would be fine with it since now that she saw you and spoke to you, she knew you were worthy of her daughter and her respect for your honesty.

"Will you be staying for dinner?" The queen asked "will you be staying forever?!" The white rabbit shouted, [Name] laughed as her girlfriends face became bright red "Hahaha yeah I'm definitely staying!" She holds Lizzie by the waist and kisses her temple, the queen squeals "Oh we need a photo of the two of you- Scratch that portrait!" She runs to get the painter Wait Mother no, not now we just got here! AND I'M HUNGRY'' she shouts but it goes to deaf ears

"Love we could just sneak into the kitchen real quick and get you some tarts'' Lizzie lights up "oh right! I can't believe you remember, there are always tarts in the kitchen-Come on let's go before she comes back!!" she grabs your hand and makes a run for it, the two giggling as you make your way there.

Guess your worries were for not, thank goodness.

___________________________________________

Hope you like this one! I really liked making this one and hope you don't mind Lizzie is shorter than [Name] I just thought small angry gf x tall calm gf

I feel like the queen may be ooc but idk I like what I did for her questions for the couple

[ghoststann]

butterflies // pierre gasly

Something flutters in your stomach when Pierre’s hand falls to your waist.

It was your birthday party. You decided to spend the night drinking and dancing with your closest friends. Pierre, who is more family now considering how long you have known each other, is one of them.

Did you always feel this way when you were around him? Maybe you were too young to recognize it before, or too afraid to name it. Tonight, you’re too drunk to care.

The way he grips the back of your dress makes your breath hitch. He pulls you so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes fall to your lips.

He is going to kiss you

A part of you hope he would. Another part is begging you to run away. Childhood friend love stories sounds lovely when you don’t dwell on how it can end in heartbreak. Anything can go wrong. If it did, you’ll never walk the streets of the Riviera the same way again.

You wonder if you said that out loud because before you know it, Pierre pulls away like he’s been burned. He dashes off with a half-assed excuse. You let out a shaky sigh and stumble your way to the bar.

The butterflies in your stomach climbs up your throat and turns to ashes in your mouth.

Pierre invited you and Charles for lunch. He told you he had something to tell you. He laughs as he greets you with a hug that lifts you of your feet. You squeal out in surprise, trying to squash the all too familiar feeling. He brings forward a shy girl, who he introduced as his girlfriend. The butterflies is replaced by something ugly and it claws at your heart.

Kika is sweet, and young. So much younger than you. You like Kika, despite what Charles might think. Somehow, the little bugger  knew about your feelings for your shared best friend. Although, you admit that you would probably liker her more if she wasn’t with the man you’re in love with.

They were taking it slow and didn’t plan on going public yet. When their relationship lasted longer than any of his previous ones. You had lost hope, finally deciding to start moving on.

Realizations are made and you ponder on how much your life is entangled with Pierre’s. It’s impossible to completely cut him from your life. Not like you wanted to do that.

You just needed time to move on and not feel your heart break every time you see him. So you spent less time tagging along with Pierre and more time on your own. You went on dates and caught up with your other friends. Which is why you were surprised when you found out they broke up.

Hope bubbled in your chest then and it’s boiling over now.

Maybe you haven’t stopped. Maybe you were only pretending.

Pierre begged you to come. He even had Charles trying to convince you to attend the next race. Everyday he called to check if you already booked your flight.

I need you there, he texted

 It hasn’t been easy for him last year, and this year as well. Red Bull demoted him after he failed to deliver the results they wanted. You watched as he beat himself up for not being able to keep his seat. Somehow, he is even more eager, if that was possible. Eager to prove himself and to prove them wrong 

He speeds through the finish line to claim his first victory in F1. You were glad you came because you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you missed it. The world is a blur but Pierre is in perfect focus. As you watch him sit on the podium he worked so hard for you can’t help but tear up. The cheering of the crowd becomes background noise.

When he steps down the podium, he makes a beeline towards you and crashes you into a hug you gladly return. You break apart but still hold on to each other.

“I did it!” He says, crying and smiling ear to ear

“Yes you did it!” You reply, holding his face as tears gather at your lashes. He takes one of your hand and kisses your palm. What he does next surprises you. He takes your hand and intertwine it with his.  A simple gesture, but it knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Champagne is flowing and here you are thinking about his hands. You can feel your beating so hard in your chest. The grip he has on your hand is unrelenting. Only letting go to hug the people congratulating him, then he takes your hand again. Like he can’t bare to be away from you for longer than a second.

When you’re not greeting the people you pass by you’re staring at your intertwined hands as he drags you through the crowd.

Just let go, you think, how hard can it be.

As if it worked the first fifty fucking times you’ve tried. You tried to let go the day after your birthday. When he pulled away before your lips even had the chance to touch. When you looked for him in other people and no one could compare. When he introduced Kika, all smiles and blushing cheeks.

You shake your head and think this is the last time. You stare at him. Your best friend. Your first love. He is buzzing with adrenaline and his jaw must hurt with how long he’s been smiling.

First you’ll let go of his hand and then the hope that is fluttering in your stomach. With the greatest effort, you loosen your grip with the intention of pulling away. Pierre, oh Pierre, has never made anything easier for you. He holds on to your hand so tight you thought it might break.

The butterflies in your stomach come alive again and renders you speechless.

[themadlostgirl]

Mine Alone

*Surprise bitch! I live!

Yes, after an extended hiatus I return! And I bring requests that have been haunting my inbox for months? A year? Sheesh. I will be getting the others out soon but gotta start with the one that was waiting the longest.*

Pairing: Felix x fem!Reader

Prompt: Felix smut. (That's all it said.) So enjoy you dirty little freaks!

---

You hadn’t really understood what was happening until it was too late. If that wasn’t the story of your life.

It had been a good couple of years since you came to Neverland. Even way back then you had been a little slow on the uptake. Nothing you did ever seemed that significant so you weren’t too worried about anything you did being noticed by anyone. No one ever gave you big jobs to do or positions of power you had to maintain. You just ambled along. It wasn’t that you were stupid, just a bit spacey. As a result you didn’t realize when something was wrong until it was well past the point of correction.

That was part of the reason you ended up on Neverland. Unloved kids came to dance around a bonfire late at night. You did too. You didn’t think anything strange of it, especially considering how many other people were there. So when the leader, Pan, offered to take you away from your boring life in your little town you agreed without much thought. Who would notice if you disappeared? There would be no great hunt for you. No people mourning you. No jobs that needed doing that only you could do. It was an easy decision on your part.

Despite it being years ago you still held some of that feeling of insignificance inside. There were so many other Lost Boys and Lost Girls on the island. Would your presence really be missed?

Then, along came Felix. Felix was one of the most prominent of the Lost Boys and Girls. He was Pan’s best friend and second in command of the island. He did something that only Pan had done once and hadn’t really again. He noticed you. Even more than that, he liked you.

What had started as an acquaintanceship turned into friendship and that friendship eventually became love. Your days were spent mainly with each other. You even shared a tent so you each could be the first thing you saw in the morning and the last thing you saw at night.

You once asked Felix why he had approached you all those years ago. What was it about you that made him want to be your friend? He never really answered it. He just said there was some pull he felt towards you. Like he was a ship on a still ocean and after years of being marooned, a breeze had finally come to push him to land.

“You had such a bright and open smile that you shared with everyone.” he had said, holding you close as you watched the waves crash on the sand. “I didn’t realize how strong it was until you turned it on me. I couldn’t stay away from you if I tried after that. Everything else came later.”

“Everything else?”

“Everything.” he said, “Your laugh. Your sense of humor. Your kindness. Your selflessness. I loved how passionate you got about little things. I love the little humming noises you make when you work. I love how tightly you hug. I love how fierce you can be when you need to be.”

“Wow. That’s a lot.”

“There’s a lot to love about you, dove.” he pulled you closer to his chest. “That was only the beginning.”

“You can be real romantic when you wanna be.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t go harping about it to the others though. For your ears only.”

“Yes, sir.” you gave a little salute. He scoffed but didn’t say anything else.

Since meeting Felix and starting your relationship you had come more out of your shell as well. You had become a lot more sociable with everyone else on the island and had made some good friends amongst them. You were still a little slow to catch on to when something was happening though. Which is where the problem really began.

You had been having a normal day when you met a boy named Andrew, Andy to his friends. You vaguely recognized him. He wasn’t new but he wasn’t an old inhabitant to the island either. Mainly you spotted him here and there but never really talked to him. The only reason you had approached him was because he was joining your fishing route to help you pull up traps.

Most of the time you spent together was walking the east half of the island checking the fishing traps. It was a long and boring job so you had got to talking. Turned out you had a lot in common. Your senses of humor were also similar so your time checking traps was spent laughing a lot. You didn’t think much of it. You were good friends, nothing more.

Felix was not as keen about your friendship though.

One day when you were out doing your route with Andy, Felix had showed up. You jogged up to greet him. “Hey, what are you doing here at this time of day?”

“I could hear you laughing.” he glanced past you at where Andy was standing. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it won’t make a lot of sense if I try to explain it. Just a stupid inside joke.” you waved it off without a thought. “Have you met Andy yet?”

“In passing.” Felix muttered. “I didn’t realize you two were so close.”

“Yeah. We’ve become good friends.” you grabbed his hand and pulled him along. “Come say hi. I think that you’ll really like him.”

Surprising no one but yourself, Felix did not like Andy. Every time Andy made a joke, Felix’s scowl deepened. Every little touch had Felix seething. Whether it was when you ruffled Andy’s hair or Andy put an arm around your shoulders, everything seemed to make Felix mad. You didn’t understand why. It wasn’t anything different then how you acted with your other friends. Why did it make him so upset when it was with Andy of all people?

Then one day you got your answer.

You were doing your normal route checking the traps with Andy when he asked you to stop for a minute and take a break. That was fine with you. It was an especially hot day so you could do with some cooling off.

You waded out into the ocean, the cool water bringing your temperature down immediately. Andy swam after you and you floated on the surface of the ocean together.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” Andy asked, breaking the peaceful silence between you.

“You can tell me anything.” you said.

“So, we’re good friends, right?”

“We are.”

“And we get along great. We laugh all the time. I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

“Yeah. That’s what being friends is.” you weren’t sure where he was going with all this.

“What I guess I’m trying to say is that I--” before he could finish his sentence a large wave crested over you and pushed you down under the water.

You broke the surface and Andy was sputtering for air. “Ah! I got water up my nose!”

“Ha!” you pushed your hair away from your face. “I guess that was the island’s sign that we should be getting back to work. Come on.” you swam back to shore with Andy behind you.

You got out of the water and grabbed your boots. You were still too wet to put them back on.

“Hey, wait, I didn’t get to tell you my thing.” Andy sloshed out of the water.

“Oh right, what did you need?”

“I wanted to tell you that I…I…” Andy was clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides. “Wow, I didn’t think this would be that hard.”

“What is going on? It’s just me.” you squeezed his shoulder, “You know you can talk to me.”

“I know.” he grabbed your hand. “I just…I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now that I…I really…”

He was taking forever to say whatever it was and your focus shifted behind him where you saw someone coming out of the jungle. Oh, it was Felix! That wasn’t surprising. He made a habit of coming to find you once your route was done. A smile stretched on your face after seeing him.

“Can I take that to mean you feel the same?” Andy asked.

You cursed yourself for losing your attention and focused on him again. “Hm? Sorry, I spaced out. What did you say?”

Andy deflated a bit before his chest puffed up again. “Perhaps I should just show you.”

He pulled on your hand so you were drawn closer to him and he cupped your cheek. His face was getting way too close! You pushed him off you. “What the hell are you--”

Before you could get another word out Felix had charged down the beach and tackled Andy, murder in his eyes. He didn’t even say anything. He just started wailing on him.

You shook off your shock and pulled Felix off. “Felix! Calm down!”

“I fucking knew it!” Felix seethed. “I knew there was no way you liked her just as a friend!”

“Felix--”

“You were so fucking pathetic! The way you just dogged after her. Did you really think she’d want a wet rag of an idiot like you!”

“Felix!” you snapped and he turned his attention away from Andy. “It’s okay. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” Andy wheezed as he sat up. “I know you like me. You’re so nice to me and you laugh at everything I say. You touch me like we’re more than friends.”

“I’m nice to everyone and I don’t touch you in any kind of special way. I’m a lot more touchy feely with the girls I hang out with than I am with you. Did you really think me messing up your hair was an invitation to kiss me or something?”

“You were flirting!”

“I was not! What about what I did made you possibly think I was flirting? Also, why would I flirt with you when I’m already with someone?”

“I figured you wanted someone you actually got along with. He doesn’t even act like he likes you. Why the hell are you with him?”

“Wow. It is almost like my love life is my own personal business and you don’t get to make assumptions on how much I like someone by your very limited point of view.” you snapped. “Find someone else to do this route with you. I don’t want to hang out with you anymore.”

You grabbed Felix and started to walk away but Felix quickly took the lead and pulled you along back into the jungle. He wasn’t saying anything but from how hard he was squeezing your hand you could tell he was still upset about it all.

“Hey,” you said as you quickened your steps to keep up with his long strides. “I’m sorry about what happened back there. I had no idea that he thought that way about me. I should have realized sooner what he was trying to get at. It should never have escalated to--”

“Stop.” Felix came to a halt, his back to you. “It wasn’t your fault. You were just being yourself, he was the one who--” he cut himself off. His whole body was tensed like a tightly wound spring that would break free at any moment.

“Felix…” you touched his shoulder. He whipped around, grabbing you tight by the shoulders.

“You’re mine. You’re mine and mine alone. Not his! Not anyone else’s! Mine!” It was then that you saw it. There was something like fear in his eyes. You had never seen Felix afraid of anything. But here and now there was something so desperate in his gaze that broke your heart.

“Yes. Yes I am.” you hushed him. You stroked his arms up and down in a soothing motion. “You know that. I don’t want anyone else the way I want you. You’re the only one I feel this way for. It’s alright. Take a deep breath.”

“I know…I know. I just--I can’t--” he was shaking slightly. “Do I not do enough? Do you wish I was more outwardly affectionate or something?”

“You do plenty. I love our relationship exactly as it is. I don’t need you to be glued to me all the time or make big romantic gestures.”

“If I did though, then they wouldn’t feel like they can just take you from me.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? Are you scared that someone is gonna take me away from you?”

He didn’t say anything. “Oh Felix.” you hugged him tight. “No one else will have me. I don’t want anyone else.”

“I love you.” he said, his voice quiet, “But I want to--it just feels like I have to--ugh!” he rested his head on your shoulder.

“It feels like you need to make sure I’m yours? Prove to everyone who I belong to?”

“You don’t belong to me, dove. You’re not a possession, but I just…I need it. I need to make sure I’m still yours.”

“You are. And I am yours, in every way that I can be. And if you need to “reclaim me” to put your mind at ease, then I’m certainly not going to complain.” you pulled dragged his hands down your body and settled them on your hips. “Claim me, Felix.”

He picked his head up, eyes boring into yours. “You sure?”

“Yes.” you pulled him down for a kiss. He kissed you back hungrily, his grip on you turning bruising as he covered your body with his. He dipped to start kissing your neck, sucking on the supple skin that still tasted like sea salt.

“Mine?” he mumbled against your pulse.

“Yours.” you reaffirmed.

He sunk his teeth down where your neck met your shoulder. One of his hands slid past the waistband of your pants and cupped your cunt. He began teasing your clit until you were moaning freely and bucking against his hand.

He stepped back from you just enough to pull your pants down and toss them away. “He had his hands on you. Tried to kiss you. Tried to kiss what is mine.” he muttered, his words barely meeting your ears. He stayed knelt on the ground, one hand splayed on your stomach to keep you up against the tree while the other hooked one your knees over his shoulder.

You grabbed at his choppy blonde hair as his mouth descended on your pussy. He might as well have been dying of thirst with how greedily he lapped up your arousal. You tried to grind against his face but he kept you firmly in place.

He looked up at you from between your legs, eyes dark with a feral lust. He worked you over with his tongue until your chest was heaving and your legs were shaking. “Felix! Please!” your voice was barely more than a whimper.

His nails bit into the flesh of your thigh and he sucked harshly on your clit. It was enough to send you over the edge and you came on his tongue.

You had barely started to blink the stars away from your vision before he was on his feet and shucking your shirt off over your head. In the back of your mind you knew that perhaps you should have moved to somewhere more private. It was a big island but that didn’t mean no one may come across you. That worry though was far from your immediate thoughts at the moment though.

You were quickly ridding Felix of his own shirt but it was hard to get up past his head on your own since he was so freaking tall. He ended up just taking it off himself before pressing his body up against yours.

“Feels like forever since the last time I properly fucked you.” he muttered in your ear as he freed his cock from his pants and rubbed it across your folds. The heat of his erection so close to your cunt had you squirming trying to impale yourself on it.

It had been a while since the last time you two had sex. Maybe that was part of the reason he was so pent up. And you as well for that matter.

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I can’t be gentle with you.” he stressed through his teeth, “Not right now.”

“I don’t want you to be.” you told him. “Now are you going to fuck me so hard I never forget who I belong to or not?”

“Fucking hell, dove.” he kissed you hard. He pushed inside your pussy, filling you completely. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust to the size of him before he was pounding into you. Taking what he wanted from your body without mercy. You clung tight to him, your nails scratching angry red lines across his back as you took the harsh fucking.

“Ah…Felix! Mmm!” you bit your lip to keep from crying out. It was hard to tell where the pleasure started and the pain began. Your back was being scratched to death by the bark at your back but the friction of his cock relentlessly thrusting in and out of your already sensitive pussy felt like heaven.

“Mine.” he murmured against your lips. “You. Are. Mine.” he punctuated each word with a particularly hard thrust.

“Yours. I’m yours.” you whimpered. He swallowed the sound of your moans as your body was being driven steadily closer to a climax.

“Fuck!” his hips snapped against yours even faster. “Dove, I--I--fuck you feel good!”

“Cum for me.” you wrapped your legs around his hips, keeping you close. “Please Felix! Cum for me! Cum in me!”

“Yes…yes dove…gonna…gonna--” he was cut off by a low guttural moan as his cock pulsed and spent itself inside you. He was still fucking you though even as he was cumming.

“Oh god!” you could feel his cum leaking out of you as his cock kept going. How was he still hard after cumming so much?

“More.” he said, his voice hoarse from pleasure. You were sure what he meant but were surprised when he pulled out of you and all but threw you to the ground. You turned to see what he was doing but he flipped you back onto your stomach and hiked your ass off the ground. Oh! You weren’t expecting that. At least the ground was soft so it’d be easier on your knees.

He grabbed you by the hips and pushed back inside you. It felt like he was reaching even deeper inside of you from this position.

Your nails dug into the warm soil of the jungle floor as he went back to fucking you. He was hitting a sweet spot inside you that had you panting and clawing at the ground for some kind of tether to reality. Your legs spread wider to allow him better access to your cunt.

You could feel him bent low over your body, hands splayed on your hips as he rutted against you like a beast in heat. You could feel the fringe of his hair tickling the space between your shoulder blades. A single word grunting past his lips with every sweet shallow thrust. “Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine!”

You squirmed and kicked as your body was driven into a state of pleasure that was overloading your brain. You couldn’t tell if you were trying to get away or push yourself closer to him. Felix answered by dragging your legs back so they rested by his. He was so incredibly close it was hard to tell where his body began and yours ended. Not that you could tell up from down in this exact moment.

Your words were nothing but hot blubbering sighs and garbled calls of his name. Hot tears streaked down your face. Still Felix kept chanting that one word over and over. “Mine!” it got louder and louder until he was practically shouting it.

When he came you came with him, a scream of pleasure so raw it tore your throat apart. Your chest was heaving and your whole body was twitching as it tried to reconcile the orgasm you just had.

Felix was incredibly still except for the heavy breaths you could feel him taking. His voice which had been so loud a moment ago was now quiet and hushed with whispers. “Mine…mine and mine alone…my dove…mine…”

You collapsed onto your sides but Felix kept you pressed close, his softening cock still wedged in your pussy as you caught your breath. His arms wound around you, holding you tight. “You…are you okay?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Yeah. Are you?”

He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me get that out of my system.”

“It was my pleasure…literally.” you responded. He sighed which let you know he was fighting back a smile.

“Felix?” you turned your head as far back as you could to look at him. Your nose bumped against his. “Mine.”

He smiled. “Yes, dove. Yours.”

[kenny-power]

Attack Me

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning(s) - slight language, minor violence described

A/N - this is my first attempt at writing a fight scene, so if it's bad - sorry! Hope you enjoy! <3 (Also, Peter is my son & that accidentally bled into my writing, but im not sorry!!)

✨✨✨

"Why are we just standing here… staring at each other? …What are you doing? Can you, like, attack me or something?"

It all started out as a typical Tuesday. Steve, Tony, Nat, and Thor were on a recon mission somewhere in Europe. Clint was cooking something delicious-smelling in the communal kitchen. Peter had just gotten off school and told Y/N about his day. Without looking, Y/N knew that Bucky was in his room, having finished training. 

He trained a lot when Steve was gone. 

Not that Y/N watched him or knew his routine. That would be creepy. She just…likes to observe him. To understand what he's doing throughout the day. It's only because she's concerned, not creepy. Steve seems to be his only friend, the only one he wants to talk to. Not for lack of trying on her part, though. And, she tried. 

As one of the team's newer members, Y/N thought it'd be nice to reach out to Bucky and try to befriend him. She always thought he looked so lonely when Steve brought him in. He was still dealing with mental after-shocks of remembering who he was before the Winter Soldier. According to Steve, Bucky was very outgoing and chivalrous, but that man is long gone, now only a shell of insecurity and doubt. It makes Y/N's heart ache for him. But Bucky apparently wants nothing to do with anyone who's not Steve. It's considered a miracle if he's even seen out of the gym or his room for longer than to get meals when Steve's away. 

"Y/N? Are you listening?" Peter's voice cuts through her train of thought, effectively derailing it. She blinks and smiles guiltily at Peter.

"Yes, sorry, Pete. Just got a little lost in thought. Anyways, you were saying? What did M.J. say to him?" Peter isn't deterred by Y/N's lack of concentration and dives back into his story. Something about M.J. and Ned and a silly argument they had at lunch. Y/N smiles fondly at him, endeared by the passionate way the kid retells the story. 

The comfortable quiet is suddenly cut short by J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice crackling to life. 

"Pardon the interruption…" The A.I.'s voice cuts out suddenly before coming back in, "I am being scrambled. Please take defensive positions. We have an intrud--"the voice cuts out completely. Y/N jumps to her feet, pulling Peter with her to the kitchen. Clint was there and armed with weapons he had stashed somewhere. 

"Clint, what's going on?" Y/N took two steak knives from the silverware drawer, keeping one in her hands and tucking the other into her belt. Not the best weapons, but she doubted she'd have time to run to her room before anything happened. By her side, Peter was rolling up his sleeves, revealing his web shooters. “J.A.R.V.I.S.?” She called up to the ceiling. "What's happening?" The A.I. did not respond. Clint looked like he was going to say something before the sound of footsteps cut him off. 

Everyone turned to look at the sound in the hall. Y/N pushed Peter further behind her, gripping her knife more tightly. Bucky stepped out of the shadows, to everyone's relief. His hair was damp as if he had just gotten out of the shower. Y/N's shoulders relaxed at the sight of him. Clint stepped up.

"Something's happening. Is everyone armed?" He did a once-over of everyone, satisfied. "Okay, listen. We need to-. "The lights cut out, Peter instantly latching onto Y/N. "Shit. Okay, everyone, stay close." Y/N could hear fumbling as Clint or Peter; she couldn't tell who; tried to find the generator's button in the electric panel. Eventually, they did, making the backup light flicker on, washing everyone in an orange glow. 

J.A.R.V.I.S.'s speakers crackled back on, but it wasn't the A.I. who spoke. An unfamiliar voice spoke instead. Bucky stiffened instantly, seemingly recognizing the voice. 

"Hello, second-string Avengers," an accented voice said. 

"Hey! We're not second-string!" Peter whispered. Y/N shushed him. The voice continued. 

"How fortunate for me that the day I have come to speak to you, the best of you are absent." 

Okay, now it's getting hurtful, Y/N thought. 

"I have come for one thing and one thing only." Said the voice. Bucky turned to the rest of the group. 

"We need to leave. Now." He sounded urgent and nervous. His eyes were frantically darting around, looking like he was about to start grabbing people and dragging them towards the exit. 

"I have come for you, Winter Soldier." He froze, face in a panic Y/N had never seen before. 

"Bucky? What's going on? Who is that?" Bucky ignored her question. 

"Surprised to hear me, Soldat?" The panic dropped from Bucky's face and was replaced with a cold mask. 

"Everyone, leave now." He growled out. Then, he looked up suddenly into Y/N's face, searching her eyes imploringly. "Please. Leave." Y/N nodded and started to pull Peter away from the kitchen towards the elevator, Clint following. That's when the voice began speaking again. 

"Longing." Y/N pushed the elevator buttons rapidly, but nothing happened. 

"Rusted." The power had been cut, and the elevator would not be coming.

"Furnace." Bucky, still in the kitchen, yelled in rage.

"Daybreak."

"The stairs!" Peter cried, "Let's go." He took off running towards the stairs, the two adults behind him. 

"Seventeen." Something shattered in the kitchen. Bucky was trying to resist the trigger words. It would be of no use. 

"Go, go, go!” Y/N chanted, pushing Peter forward. 

"Benign." Peter made it to the stairs' door first, slamming into it. Something had it jammed.

"Nine." 

"Move!" Clint barked. He took his bow off his back and hit it against the door handle. It took a couple of tries, but the handle broke off, allowing him to ram his shoulder into the door, crashing it open.

"Homecoming." Y/N followed Pete and him down the stairs to ensure Peter was first. They had to put as much distance between them and Bucky as possible. They could still hear the intercom in the stairwell. 

"One." It won't be enough. The Winter Soldier is unstoppable. They won't make it.

They won't make it.

"Freight car." Faintly, Y/N could hear everything go silent in the kitchen. 

"Ready to comply," she heard Bucky - no, he's the Winter Soldier now - say. It broke her heart. 

The man on the intercom laughed. It was a horrible, cruel laugh. Then he simply said, "Stop them." 

Y/N's heart dropped to her stomach. The group running burst into one of the lower floors, still nowhere near the building's exit. Damn Stark and his need to live on the highest floor of the Tower. Panting, she looks at the others.

"What…what do we do? Can we really subdue Bucky when he's like this? What if he hurts someone? We can't fight him." 

Peter looked nervous; Bucky was his teammate. He didn't want to have to fight him. Clint looked up. 

"We're going to have to try. Nothing lethal, but we need to take down the Winter Soldier. I've already notified the team overseas, but they won't be here for a few hours. It's up to us." Y/N nodded. 

Take him down. Take down Bucky. Oh boy, that's gonna be hard.  

Coming up with a plan, the small team got into position. The floor they were on was one of the lower-level training gyms made for non-Avengers-level agents. Unfortunately, the mysterious intruder had done his due diligence, and the floor was deserted. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that other floors were similarly populated. Steeling herself, she looked at Clint and Peter. 

"Okay. Nonlethal takedown. Let's make it quick, with as little injury as possible. Pete, Clint, you guys start up high. I'll go low. We ambush him and take him down." Y/N paused, frowning, "He didn't have any access to guns before this, did he?" Clint shook his head.

"I don't think so, but we can't be too careful." Y/N nodded.

"Alright, go team?" She grimaced at them. Their smiles back were forced, nervous. Peter was practically vibrating. Y/N found a vantage point near the back of the gym, tucking herself behind some mats but still allowing space to flee or fight. She watched Peter swing his way up to the rafters from her spot, crouching in the darkness. Clint climbed to the top of the climbing wall, nesting with his bow and arrows ready. Y/N saw that he only had out his non-lethal arrows. Taser ones, netting ones, grappling ones, things like that. 

It was silent in the room; not even their breathing could be heard. The door slowly creaked open. Y/N clutched the steak knives she took from the kitchen. Terrible weapons; they would barely do anything against the Winter freakin' Soldier. 

His footsteps were heavy, slow. He was hunting his prey. Y/N's heart thudded in her chest. Somehow, this was more terrifying than raiding an entire HYDRA compound. 

Bucky's time as the Winter Soldier had molded him into the perfect weapon. Silent. Fierce. Deadly.

The Soldier's eyes swept across the room, looking for anything out of place. He had no visible weapons in his hands, thank God, but that did not give Y/N much pause. The Soldier himself was a weapon just as deadly. 

Y/N remained as still as possible, not wanting to give up her position until the last possible second. She only hoped the boys would do the same. Keeping close to the edge of the wall, the Soldier crept around the room's circumference, ensuring his back was covered. Damn, that's smart. She saw movement in the rafters out of the corner of her eye. Peter was making his way across the ceiling, intending to drop down behind Bucky.

It's as if he could sense the shift in the air. Bucky whirled around, and his foot caught Peter in the stomach. The poor boy flew across the gym, his momentum slamming him into some pads leaning against the wall. Y/N smothered her gasp. Arrows rained down around Bucky, forming a net. Clint moved from his place on the climbing wall, the Soldier's eyes tracking him. He wound up his metal arm without a sound, tangling the mesh in it before snapping it completely. Well, there went that plan. 

Sparing a glance at Peter, he was still moving - thank goodness, Y/N ran up behind Bucky. There was no way he couldn't have heard her coming, and yet, she was able to jump on his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his neck - something she learned from Nat. Trying to use their combined weights against him, she flung her body backward, intending to launch the both of them to the ground. He anticipated this, widening his stance to remain upright. All Y/N achieved was ending up upside down on his back. Not exactly what she intended, but it provided a nice distraction. 

Three quick web shots hit the Soldier in the face, obscuring his vision. The Soldier grunted, trying to free himself from Y/N's grip and the webbing. A well-aimed whistling sound pierced the air as the Winter Soldier struggled to break free from Y/N's unexpected hold and the webbing covering his face. It was Hawkeye, back in action.

Clint had repositioned himself during the brief distraction Y/N had caused. He had a clear shot now and wasn't about to waste it. With perfect precision, he let loose an electrified arrow. The arrow sailed through the air and embedded itself in his metal shoulder.

Electricity surged through the webbing, sending sparks flying and involuntarily causing the Winter Soldier to convulse. The shock temporarily incapacitated him, forcing him to release Y/N. She rolled away from him just in time, regaining her footing.

The Winter Soldier, despite the overwhelming assault from Hawkeye and Y/N, was not one to stay down for long. His enhanced resilience and combat training began to shine through. Y/N almost admired him as he shook off the effects of the stun arrows, regaining his composure.

Just as Spider-Man swung back into the fray, his spider-sense tingling, he faced a renewed and focused Winter Soldier. Bucky's metal arm whirred to life as he delivered a powerful blow, knocking Spider-Man off balance. 

Peter managed to dodge subsequent strikes using his speed and agility, but the Winter Soldier relentlessly pursued him. Bucky's combat experience allowed him to predict Spider-Man's movements, and the two engaged in a high-speed, acrobatic duel throughout the gym. Y/N was left to hover near them, unable to find an opening but staying near just in case. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…”

She could hear Peter’s constant cursing under his breath, a stark contrast to his usual quips and puns he made when fighting. The poor kid was terrified. 

Peter fired web projectiles, attempting to ensnare the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deftly evaded them or shattered the webbing with his metal arm. Clearly, the Soldier had regained his footing, and Pete was having difficulty keeping up with the relentless assault.

With a sudden burst of speed, the Soldier closed the distance between them, delivering a punishing punch that sent Spider-Man crashing through a wall and into the next room. The impact left Spider-Man disoriented and weakened.

"Peter!" Y/N couldn't help herself. That looked like it really hurt. A pained groan answered her, and she could make out the faint outline of Pete's thumbs-up. In any other situation, Y/N would have laughed. But now was obviously not the time. 

With Spider-Man temporarily out of the picture, the Winter Soldier shifted his focus to the next threat at hand, Hawkeye. Clint had taken cover behind a stack of gym mats, his bow ready. But the Winter Soldier was relentless and determined to eliminate them one by one.

Bucky moved stealthily through the gym, his enhanced senses and combat skills allowing him to easily track Clint's movements. He spotted Clint's hiding place and swiftly closed the distance, using cover whenever possible to avoid Clint's arrows.

Clint was in a precarious situation. He had already used many of his specialized arrows in the earlier assault on the Winter Soldier, leaving him limited options. He had to rely on his agility and marksmanship to evade Bucky's pursuit. As Bucky closed in, Clint made a split-second decision. He sprang from behind the gym mats and fired a grappling arrow into the rafters. With a swift, fluid motion, he swung up, suspending himself high above the Winter Soldier's reach.

Bucky's metal arm lashed out, attempting to grab Clint, but Clint's acrobatic skills kept him just out of reach. From his elevated vantage point, Clint quickly assessed the situation. He needed a distraction to gain the upper hand. With impeccable aim, Clint launched a specialized arrow toward a nearby support beam. The arrow detonated upon impact, causing the gym's ceiling to rain debris. Bucky shielded himself with his metal arm, momentarily blinded by the dust and debris.

Seizing this opportunity, Clint descended from the rafters, drawing his collapsible staff. He struck at Bucky's exposed flank, his blows swift and precise. The Winter Soldier grunted in pain as Clint landed a series of well-placed hits.

Y/N took this brief moment to check on Peter. She pulled him from the rubble of the wall he went through. 

"You alright?" She asked, dusting him off. He nodded. "Listen to me, kid. Me and Clint will keep him distracted. I need you to get the word out to anyone left in the building. Don't get caught, okay?" 

"But…but I can still fight," he coughed. 

"I know, I know. This is you helping." She paused. "If you happen to come across the bastard who started this, take him out." Peter smiled and nodded. He then shot a web up to an air vent, climbed through and disappeared. Y/N turned back to the fight and made her way back to them, observing. 

But Bucky's resilience was astounding. Despite the assault, he regained his footing, using his metal arm to block the staff and disarm Clint. With a powerful kick, Bucky sent Clint sprawling backward.

Clint landed hard, his body aching from the impact. He tried to regain his composure, but the Winter Soldier closed in, relentless. Clint was slumped against the wall, incapacitated for now. 

A sudden voice cut through the tension as Bucky prepared for his next attack. 

"Hey!" She yelled, probably not the best choice, but she ran out of options. "Come and fight me, Soldier." Bucky's eyes darkened, and he stalked over to Y/N. She prepared to fight, ready to try to exhaust the Soldier until Clint recovered or backup came. 

He slowly approached Y/N, stopping a few feet from her. His stance did not indicate that he would hit her or anything. 

 The hesitation was unusual. Straight-up weird. His icy blue eyes seemed locked onto hers, and their tension was palpable. She decided to break the silence with a mixture of exasperation and curiosity.

"Why are we just standing here… staring at each other?" Y/N questioned, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and curiosity. "What are you doing? Can you, like, attack me or something?"

Her words snapped the Soldier out of his internal conflict, at least temporarily. He blinked as if awakening from a trance, and his tense posture relaxed slightly. With a conflicted expression, the Winter Soldier lowered his metal arm, his reluctance to fight evident. Y/N's brows furrowed, completely confused. What is happening? Why isn’t he fighting? I wonder…

Recalling what Steve once told her he did to break Bucky from his mind-control, Y/N took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Bucky," she said firmly, her voice filled with resolve. "I know you're in there. You can fight it."

Her words struck a chord with him, sparking a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He grappled with the mental conditioning that had controlled him for so long, struggling to regain control. Y/N took a step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his metal arm firmly. He flinched slightly. Y/N took in a breath before continuing, trying to channel what she remembered Steve doing to calm him down. "Remember who you are," she urged. "You're James Buchanan Barnes."

He hesitated, the internal battle intensifying. He clenched his metal fist, the struggle evident on his face.

"Bucky," Y/N said, her voice steady, trying another tactic. "Remember those midnight snack runs we used to go on?" His brows furrowed slightly, a hint of recognition flickering in his eyes.

"We'd sneak into the kitchen when everyone else was asleep," Y/N continued, her tone filled with warmth. "You'd grab a bag of chips, and I'd raid the cookie jar. We'd sit at the kitchen counter, I would talk and you’d pretend not to listen.” She paused, a small smile touching her lips as she recalled those stolen moments late at night.

The Soldier's gaze seemed to focus on a distant memory, and his clenched fist started to relax. 

“I’d talk about everything and nothing," Y/N continued. “My dreams, fears, and all the adventures I wanted us to go on once everything settled down." She reached out and gently touched his normal arm, entirely at his mercy if he decided to attack her. "I know you're still in there, Bucky," she whispered, "You can come back to me. Just come back."

The Winter Soldier hesitated, the internal battle between his conditioning and buried memories raging within him. But Y/N's words had ignited a spark of recognition, and he began taking tentative steps toward his normal self.

Finally, with a surge of inner strength, Bucky broke free from the grip of his conditioning. His arms trembled, and he fell to his knees, his face contorted in pain.

Y/N knelt beside him, offering her support and a reassuring nod. Tears welled in her eyes as she saw the pain he was going through. But more than that, questions surfaced. How was she able to break the Winter Soldier's conditioning? Why didn't he fight her? What does this mean for them?

The speaker system crackled on. 

"Hey, guys. I, uh, I got the dude!" Peter's voice came through. "I'm gonna give J.A.R.V.I.S. back control." The system beeped, and the A.I.'s voice came through the speakers.

"I apologize for my absence; congratulations on subduing the threat. Mr. Stark and company are en route to the Tower, touchdown in approximately two hours. Please commence the Winter Soldier Recovery Protocol." Y/N knew what that meant. Bucky needed to be locked up until he could be examined and it could be determined that he was not under the Soldier's influence. 

Clint walked over, looking beaten but not too worse for wear. Mostly, he had the wind knocked out of him. He handed Y/N a set of handcuffs, specially made to resist the strength of the many enhanced residents of the Tower. Y/N put them on Bucky before kneeling in front of him again and looking him in the eyes. 

"I'm sorry, you know I have to do this." She gave him a sad smile. 

"Yeah…I know." He rasped out. He allowed her to get him to his feet and take him to the holding cell. 

Tony dubbed it the "Winter Soldier time-out Room." 

Y/N preferred not to call it that. 

~

It was 14 hours before Bucky was allowed out of the holding cell. First, they had to wait for the rest of the team to return from the recon mission. Then, they had to deal with the intruder Peter took down. Apparently, some low-level HYDRA agent got involved with the Winter Soldier project. He had a grand idea that if he could control the Winter Soldier, he could bring HYDRA back from the ground. 

Yeah, he's in prison now. 

After evaluation, it was determined that Y/N completely got Bucky out of his Soldier state. How, she had no idea. Nothing like that had ever happened to Bucky before. Not even Steve had answers. Whenever he tried to bring Bucky back, there were always some residual effects of the mind control. But Bucky was acting just as he was a week ago. 

Or at least, he should be. 

If Y/N thought he was evasive before, that was nothing compared to now. Now, Bucky was straight-up avoiding her. Whenever she'd enter a room he was in, he'd suddenly get up and leave - not even offering an excuse. She hadn't expected how much that would actually hurt her. She missed him and their time spent together, what little of it there used to be. 

One evening, late after everyone had gone to bed except for him, Y/N decided she couldn't bear the distance any longer. She had to confront Bucky and get answers. She found him in the dimly lit living room, alone by the window, lost in his thoughts.

Y/N walked in, her footsteps echoing softly in the room, and the weight of her emotions resting heavily on her shoulders. She took a deep breath and said, "Bucky, we need to talk."

Bucky turned to look at her, his expression a mixture of longing and torment. 

"Y/N," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness, "I need you to understand something. You stopped the Winter Soldier that day, but it doesn't mean everything's okay."

Y/N's brows furrowed as she approached him, her heart pounding. "I know, Bucky, but you've been avoiding me ever since. Why?"

Bucky turned away, his jaw clenched as if struggling to find the words. 

"Why was it you?" Y/N continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why could I reach you when no one else could? Why didn’t you attack even as the Soldier?”

Bucky sighed, a deep, heavy sigh full of emotion. He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact.

"Because..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “Because I love you, Y/N."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening with surprise. She had never suspected it; hearing those words from Bucky's lips left her breathless.

Bucky finally met her gaze, his eyes filled with longing and uncertainty. "I love you," he repeated, his voice gaining strength. "And that's why I've been avoiding you. I was scared that the Winter Soldier might return and hurt you if I got close to you. I can't bear the thought of that."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she reached out to cup Bucky's face, her touch gentle and tender. "Bucky," she said, her voice quivering, "you don't have to be afraid anymore. We'll face whatever comes together. I love you too.”

[gotham-ruaidh]

(new) haven - a 7x04 story

“Do you recognize anything here from your own time?”

Claire slowly sipped her stew. “Maybe if we were closer to the university. Frank took Brianna here quite often – he so enjoyed the Harvard and Yale football games, and it was always difficult for me to take time off from the hospital. But I remember the oldest section of the university was constructed well before the Revolution.”

Jamie fidgeted with the spoon beside his own untouched bowl of stew, watching the entrance to the tavern. “So the university still stands.”

“Yes – it’s considered one of the best in the country. The city grew, too. After the Revolution, New Haven became an important port for whaling ships. Lots of money. Then the United States industrialized and…well. Its fortunes still hadn’t turned by the time Bree came here on a solo trip, not too long before we came to Scotland and met Roger.”

The lieutenant they had gotten to know on the ship from Wilmington – a kind and excessively cheery fellow – ducked into the tavern, scanning the crowd.

“I could say something about you allowing our daughter to travel here alone,” Jamie whispered, eyes fixed in the lieutenant.

Claire smiled wistfully. “She was visiting a friend from high school. They ate white clam pizza.”

He turned to her, brow furrowed. “Peet-zuh?”

“Ah!”

Jamie and Claire turned – and Lieutenant Hubbard sat himself at their table.

“So delightful to see you both without the ship heaving beneath us!”

Jamie pushed away his bowl of stew. “Eat this. My stomach still hasnae caught up to my legs being on land.”

The lieutenant heartily tucked in. “If you insist. I never much cared for tavern fare at home, but compared to the absolute slop on the ship…”

Jamie tensed. Beneath the table, Claire lay a comforting hand on his thigh.

“Tell me, Lieutenant – now that we’re here, do you think it really will be two weeks before we set out for Ticonderoga?”

“One week, two weeks, three weeks,” he shrugged, slurping the stew with gusto. “We need to re-supply, and wait for another company of men to join us from Georgia. Messengers can get their dispatches through, but with the roads as they are…”

Beneath the table, Jamie’s hand settled atop Claire’s. “There must be an apothecary here in New Haven. My wife will have need of medical supplies.”

Hubbard nodded. “Not too far away from the inn where we’ve been billeted. I suppose being an officer does have benefits every now and again. The rooms are a bit small, but it’s the last privacy I’ll have for a while. It’s two hundred miles – with all the men and animals and equipment, perhaps fifteen days?”

Claire twined their fingers together. “Sounds about right.”

Hubbard set down his spoon, wiping his mouth with the back of one sleeve. Surprised. “You’ve marched with an army before, mistress?”

Jamie squeezed her hand.

“I have. More than once.”

They waited –

“Well then. You won’t faint at the sight of blood. All the more reason to have you with us, even though you’re a woman.”

“She’s fixed me and my men more times than I can count.” Jamie’s voice was calm, but Claire felt anger in the grip of his hand. “There’s no one else I’d trust wi’ my life.”

Hubbard stood. ��Good. Fraser – we’ve a council meeting to attend. The quartermaster is providing his report.”

Not caring one whit about Hubbard or any of the other men in the room, Jamie Fraser kissed his wife goodbye, long and proper.

“I’ll see you at the inn, Sassenach.”

She smiled, and bent to gather her basket as they both stood. “I’ll be waiting.”

--

“Well, I guess your appetite is back.”

Jamie swallowed another mouthful of bread, and cut a hunk of cheese with Claire’s knife. “Did you get greens for me to eat as well? I dinnae want the scurvy.”

Claire unscrewed the canteen and set it next to her husband on the small table. “Not tonight. But you’ll need to eat whatever I give you when we’re on the road. We don’t know what’s ahead.”

He picked up the canteen and sniffed. Face lighting up with joy.

“Whisky?”

She smiled. “The innkeeper’s wife. Her daughter suffered a nasty burn while cooking yesterday. I examined it and made her a poultice. And asked for a canteen of whisky as payment.”

He took a sip. “You’ve always been a canny one.” He held out the canteen to her. “Drink up now. I ken you want to.”

She smiled, taking the canteen from him, deliberately sliding her fingers over his. Watching him watch her take a sip.

He cut another hunk of cheese. “How much have you been thinking about Charles Stuart’s army these past few days?”

She took another sip of whisky. “Too much. I see their faces.”

“Aye, I do too. Though this army is much better supplied. And we know victory is sure.”

She rose and stepped around the table to stand in front of him. Without a word, he began undoing her laces.

“The French will come though this time, Jamie.” She untied his neck cloth.

“Aye, Hubbard was speaking today of it. Ships have come with gold, and men, and money.”

Her bodice fell to the ground. “A good thing you speak French so well. What about the other men?”

He stood and pulled her closer, hands warm on the bare skin of her chest. “Just one colonel at the council today. Perhaps some of the soldiers.”

He ducked down, leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and clavicle. She shivered, pulled him closer with her left hand, her right hand undoing the laces of his breeches.

“Why do you taste so good?” he breathed.

“Maybe it’s the whisky,” she smiled, untucking his shirt, grazing her fingertips over the plane of his belly and the thick hair below.

He skimmed his nose up her jawline, meeting her lips in a searing kiss.

“It wasnae like this when you came back to me,” he gasped, cupping her breasts as she teased the root of him with her thumb. “Only – ”

“Only at the very beginning.” Her breath was short and shallow now, eyes closed, picturing him laughing above her in the heather. “When we couldn’t stop.”

He stole her breath in another kiss. “I cannae stop now, Claire. Are you willing?”

She pulled away. Met his shining eyes, surrounded by the lines and creases of joy and sorrow and so many incredible years together.

“S'il vous plait.”

He slid off her shift, and she pulled off his shirt. He stepped out of his breeches, and bent to pick her up. Her legs wrapped around him, and they crossed the room as they kissed and kissed and kissed.

“Je t’aime,” he breathed, setting her so gently on the bed she thought she might cry.

“Je t’aime,” she replied, over and over and over again.

[nofomogirl]

Metatron's manipulation step by step

Part 3: The Entrance

Part 1 - where I discuss the significance of the coffee.

Part 2 - where I take a look back at season 1

Ok, time to actually get to the promised "step by step" part and look very closely at what Metatron is doing, from the moment he appears on Earth to the very (heartbreaking) end of the episode (and the season, and the story so far). Well, in this part I'll stop when he sends the Angels away but we'll get to the very end eventually.

We first see Metatron on Earth when Crowley is escorting Nina and Maggie out of the bookshop. He's standing in line in front of Give me coffee or give me death, waiting for the shop to open and I think we should really stress the significance of that. Not his purchase of coffee and conversation with Nina - though they are important too - but the sole fact that he's there, in the street, in the queue, and NOT IN THE BOOKSHOP.

Gabriel has just gotten his memory back. His affair with Beelzebub has just been brought to light. Michael, Uriel, Saraqael, Dagon, Shax, and Furfur are shouting over each other about what should be done with them, while Beelzebub and Gabriel hold hands. They're still there! Nothing is decided yet.

But apparently, Metatron was more interested in buying coffee than confronting the Archangel who escaped his judgment.

I mean, I don't think anybody ever doubted that Meteron traveled to Earth specifically to talk to Aziraphale, and that was his top priority. It's not exactly a revelation. But it still baffled me just how little he cared about Gabriel's fate. Even at the point when he still might have influenced it. After the second rewatch I started drawing my conclusions from that about Metatron's personality and taking notes, but after the third time, I realized I was missing the point. Metatron's decision to stay out of Gabriel's business wasn't informed by how much he did or didn't care about it. It was all about how it would make him look if he was seen involved.

Aziraphale already had a rather unfavorable impression of him from their previous encounter (season 1) and now our beloved dorky Principality got himself involved in Gabriel's case, risking his safety to protect the Archangel from Heaven. And it was Metatron who was presiding over Gabriel's trial and decided Gabriel's punishment would be to have his memories erased.

Entering the bookshop while Gabriel was still there, while his fate was still being discussed, posed a serious risk of exposing Metatron's role in the whole mess. Entering after it all blew over meant that Aziraphale didn't have a chance to make a connection.

Now let's look at the exact circumstances under which Metatron did enter the bookshop.

He came in at the exact moment Michael was threatening Aziraphale to erase his existence just so he could put a stop to it and chastise the Archangels. He immediately steps into a role of a savior and a voice of reason.

Let's dissect it a little.

Michael's exact words are "I am authorized to remove the name of anyone who helped Gabriel from the Book of Life".

But Metatron insists she "doesn't have the authority to do anything like that".

That begs the question: if Michael really was wrong and never could use the Book, where did she get the idea that she could? True, Michael is portrayed as particularly dim and vain this season. She does attribute herself to more power than she actually has. But her phrasing strongly implies that it was a one-time thing. Michael doesn't think she can use the Book at will, at any time, against whomever she pleases. She believes she has the authorization to use it in this specific instance. That's a strange thing to be confused about, don't you think?

Another glaringly strange thing is how Archangels don't seem to know who Metatron is.

The only person to recognize him immediately is Crowley, which makes sense, considering he had just watched Gabriel's trial. He says the last time he saw the guy, he was a giant floating head, and that triggers Aziraphale's memory, which again, makes sense. In season 1 it was clear Aziraphale had never seen Metatron before - he asked if he was talking to God, and Metatron needed to introduce himself - and it's been a couple of years since then. He hasn't forgotten him but he needed a little tip to recognize him in a different getup.

It's the Archangels' reaction that doesn't make sense. They had all been present at the trial. Saraqael had seen it again at the same time Crowley did. There's no logical reason why they should be so oblivious.

There are quite a few theories about this, the most common being that Crowley recognizes Metatron because he used to be such a high-ranking angel before the Fall, and from all the supernatural entities in the room he knew Metatron the best. And while I am inclined to believe Crowley indeed used to be a big shot in Heaven, I don't think it's a satisfactory explanation for this situation. If that was all there was, there would be no reason for all three of the Archangels to not connect the dots at the same time Aziraphale did. But they didn't. It's only when the Metatron is explicitly called the Metatron that they finally see it.

Personally, I think Metatron is responsible for both things - Michael's misguided belief she had the power to use the Book of Life & and all Archangels suddenly not recognizing Metatron's face, voice, and presence.

Why?

Because it made the Archangels look really bad.

How would it benefit him?

Well, answer honestly, when Metatron first appeared and started scolding the Archangels like they were misbehaving kids, wasn't that satisfying? Didn't you like him just for that short moment?

I sure did, and I believe that was the point. Except that the performance wasn't for our, the audience's sake, but for Aziraphale's. He makes a whole performance of exposing how incompetent the Archangels are and how outraged he is with that.

And what's even more interesting, right from the moment he enters Metatron speaks like Aziraphale! I didn't notice it at first because he is played by Sir Derek Jacobi and old-fashioned language certainly becomes him. But he doesn't speak this way in Heaven! He doesn't say things like "balderdash" or "piffle" or "spit spot". That's Aziraphale's gimmick.

In other words, Metatron says things Aziraphale very likely always wanted to say, and to boot, he says them in the exact manner Aziraphale would actually say them if he had the power. He plays out a fantasy for our poor Principality, who most likely was never backed by anybody in Heaven, and his issues with Archangels were never validated by anybody.

Metatron draws a very clear line between himself and the Archangels. He shows that they are the problem, they are incompetent, they are unreasonable. Not him.

Which is the first step in convincing Aziraphale that maybe he's worth listening to at least.

Continued in Part 4: Putting on a human face

[burntsaltsblog]

shiny new toy

(felix catton\reader)

chapter four

details: a saltburn inspired short story.

content warning: profanity, explicit sexual content, and mentions of abuse (physical and mental)

warning for this chapter: this chapter depicts explicit sexual content. if you are not an adult, DO NOT READ!!! the aftermath of physical violence (da) is also contained in this chapter.

MNI 18+

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　

The first thing I registered was the cold, hard floor beneath me. It did little to comfort my injuries, but it was the only proof I had that I wasn't dead. And that was surprising, considering the last thing I remember was Eric preparing to slit my throat. 

A myriad of voices rang from somewhere nearby. I vaguely recognized them, but I was already gripped by the darkness, which promised to drag me back to a peaceful slumber. 

"Damnit, Farleigh. I specifically told you and Venetia to keep an eye on her."

"I did! It's not my fault she wandered off."

"And why the fuck didn't you follow her? Christ, mate, this is exactly why I needed you to watch her."

"Well, she's your fucking toy. Why the hell weren't you watching her?"

"Don't call her that. It's not like that this time, and you know it."

"Oh, do I? Because so far, it is. Tell me, Felix, when will you grow tired of treating people like objects? Because I-"

"Enough. If you say one more word, I will personally ask my father to withdraw his invitation for you to spend the summer at Saltburn. Where will you go then, hm? You'll have to shack up with one of the teachers here you've blown."

"Fucking hell, will you two shut up? Your bloody bickering isn't going to help us find Iris. I'm going outside to check the yard. Farleigh, why don't you come with me? You, little brother, can search the rest of the house."

Silence filled the air before footsteps vibrated in different directions. A door squeaked before someone above me said my name in anguish.

"Iris? Jesus, what happened?"

Warm hands braced my upper body and rolled me onto my back. It took immense strength to crack my eyes open, but I was glad I did because I saw the one person I wanted more than anything.

"Felix?" I whispered through bloodied, cracked lips.

"It's me, darling. I'm here," he said, falling to the floor and pulling me onto his lap. I whimpered quietly and buried my face in his chest, inhaling his calming scent.

Felix consoled me, tightly wrapping his arms around me to ensure my safety. "Shh, it's ok, love; I've got you."

"Damn, what happened to your face?"

I weakly craned my neck to see Farleigh and Venetia standing in Marcus Ackerly's bathroom doorway, looking equally shocked and disturbed. I suppose Eric did a number on me for people to regard me in such a way. 

"Shut it, Farleigh," Felix uttered lowly, coming to my defense. "I'm going to take her to my room so you two can return to your previous activities."

Felix stood with me, still cradled against his chest, and murmured words of comfort as my sore body protested against the sudden shift. 

"Feel better, Iris," Venetia said as we passed her and Farleigh, still hovering by the door. A small smile graced her face, but Farleigh's remained unreadable. I smiled feebly in return before relaxing against Felix as he carried me away from them and out of the house.

The walk to Felix's dormitory was quiet, and I anxiously studied his expression. It was one of stone as he tensed his jaw and ground his teeth.

"Felix?" 

His face immediately softened as he looked down at me, concerned. "What is it, darling? Does something hurt?"

Technically, everything hurt. But I didn't want to say that out of fear that I'd worry Felix even more.

"I was wondering why you looked so mad. Did I do something wrong?" 

My thoughts were spiraling out of control, and I wondered if I was burdening him too much. After all, he was taking me back to his room, so I had, without a doubt, ruined his night. I'm sure he would much rather spend his evening with a woman who hadn't just got beaten to a pulp by her crazy ex-boyfriend.  

"No, sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong," he assured me. "Someone fucking hurt you, and it kills me that I wasn't there to protect you. I should've been there to protect you."

"No, don't blame yourself, Felix. You were busy with Ollie-"

"Exactly, I was busy entertaining the pathetic fantasy of a fucking lunatic and not staying with you like I was supposed to," he growled.

"What are you talking about? What happened with you and Oliver?"

"It doesn't matter now," Felix responded briskly as he kicked open the door to his room. 

He delicately sat me on his bed and put an arm on either side of my legs, caging me in. Felix's head dipped between his shoulders, and he took a moment before speaking to calm himself.

"Iris," he started lowly, almost inaudible. "Who did this to you?"

When I didn't respond, he lifted his head, and our gazes clashed: earthy brown against forest green. 

"Who did this to you? Who fucking hurt you?" His anger was rising, and I knew the only way to subdue him was to give him the answer he wanted. 

"Is it who I think it was?" he pressed. "Was it that piece of shit who wouldn't leave you alone?"

"Yes. It was Eric," I faintly confirmed as tears blurred my vision. My throat threatened to close, but I forced myself to continue.

"He was mad about the text. He'd been watching us all night, and then when he saw I was alone, he chased me into the bathroom and cornered me there, and-"

"Fuck," Felix swore harshly under his breath. 

I wanted to say more but refrained when he dropped his forehead to mine. 

"I need you to know how fucking sorry I am, darling. I never intended to abandon you like that. I should've known that Eric would try to pull something like this." 

Regret had infiltrated his voice before the tone became more confident. "Over my dead body, will that asshole ever come near you again." 

"Felix, please, don't talk like that," I begged, shrinking away due to the topic of his death. It was something I found too utterly painful to comprehend.

"I'm sorry, love. But I'm serious; he will regret ever touching you."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, nervous that Felix would try something stupid and risk his safety. Eric wasn't worth it. 

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything," Felix mumbled as he traced a bruise on my cheek. 

To signal that the conversation was over, Felix stepped into his bathroom. A moment later, he reappeared, holding up a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small towel. "I'm gonna clean you up, ok?"

I nodded my head, earning a smile from Felix. He doused the towel in alcohol before coming back to stand directly in front of me. "This might sting a bit. Just squeeze my hand if it hurts." 

Biting my lip, I grasped his empty hand and was comforted by his touch.

Felix began working carefully over my face. I did my best to mask my discomfort, but when it became too much, I squeezed his hand, and he promptly leaned down to kiss my head before whispering, "You're doing so well for me, love. I'm so proud of you."

He finished cleansing the gashes on my face before moving to my hands, arms, and legs, which were covered in minor cuts due to the broken glass from the shattered mirror. 

"Almost done—just a few more minutes. I gotta make sure these don't get infected. I need my girl healthy." 

My girl

The simple phrase had butterflies erupting in my stomach. They flew widely around, and I knew there was no chance of me calming them down. 

"All done," he announced, giving me one of his gentle smiles, which I'd grown to love so much. 

"Thank you. For everything. If it weren't for you, I'd still be passed out at Marcus' place." 

Felix's face hardened, and I knew he was recalling what it was like to discover me bloody and bruised. 

"When I found you, for a moment, I thought I had lost you forever. I can't even begin to describe how fucking terrifying that was. The mere idea of losing you is something I can't bare. I need you, Iris. I need you."

His eyes were frantic as they searched my face—for what, I'm not sure—but his stare added an intensity to the air and charged it with something neither of us fully understood. But it was enticing and intoxicating.

Felix held my face between his hands, and I reached up to cover them with my own as I promised him softly, "I'm here, Felix, and I'm ok."

He tenderly kissed my forehead, and his hands, almost hesitantly, settled on my waist. He paused for a moment to analyze my reaction before placing another kiss on my temple. Gradually, Felix worked down until his mouth was under my jaw. In a daze, my head lulled back, giving him access to my neck.

It didn't take him long to find my sweet spot just below my ear. He bit down briefly before darting his tongue out to soothe the area from his assault. I moaned breathlessly and gripped his shoulders, needing something to stabilize myself. 

Felix's hands dug into my hair, pulling at my scalp and eliciting a whine from my throat. "Felix, please. I want you."

He withdrew his face from where it was settled in the crook of my neck and appraised me with blown-out pupils. "Are you sure? You've been through a lot tonight, love and-"

"Felix, I need you." I interrupted, echoing his words from earlier. My desperation oozed off me as I stared at him, wide-eyed and pleading.

Felix was quiet for a moment before he nodded and traced a finger over my bottom lip. "Ok, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take care of my girl." 

He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine agonizingly slow. I tilted my chin up, attempting to close the small gap between us, and he chuckled under his breath.

"Such a desperate girl."

Before I could reply, Felix firmly pressed his lips to mine, causing my thoughts to evaporate. My tongue slipped easily into his mouth, resulting in him groaning lowly. The sound traveled right to the spot between my legs that throbbed with immense need. I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him closer. But even with Felix tightly against me, I still craved more. I drew back just enough to grasp the top button of his shirt. "Off," I commanded. 

With a lazy grin, Felix stepped back and nimbly unbuttoned his shirt. He took his time shedding the material, and my eyes drank him in each second he revealed more of his toned chest. 

Once his shirt hit the floor, Felix reached for his belt buckle. The clang of metal caused my legs to snap shut and my thighs to rub together in search of friction. Felix raised a brow at me. "My needy girl looks like she's going to cum just sitting there."

I pouted at him and reached my hand out." I wanna to do it." 

Felix stared at my fussing nature before approaching me so I could touch him. "Ok, baby. You can do it. Be a good girl and unbuckle my belt."

I ruefully smiled as I wrapped my hands around the brown leather, tugging it away from his waist. I then made quick work of unzipping his jeans and dragging them down his thighs before he took over and kicked them off so they joined his shirt's place on the floor. 

My eyes grazed Felix's body in silent reverence. I was convinced he wasn't a human but, instead, a Greek God carved meticulously from stone; he had no flaw in sight. I lightly raked my hands down his chest before he took hold of them and placed them in my lap. I was momentarily confused before he began fiddling with the hem of my top. Then, his intentions became clear. 

Felix pulled my shirt over my head, and he immediately gaped at my breasts that were spilling out of my bra. He wasted no time in ripping it off and tossing it aside. 

"Beautiful," he murmured before he leaned forward and used his tongue to swirl over my right nipple.

"Oh my God," I breathed, raising my hand to curl around Felix's neck, urging him to continue. 

Felix dragged his tongue along my chest, between my breasts, and down my stomach until he reached the top of my skirt. 

"Stand up, love."

I groaned in protest before Felix harshly twisted one of my nipples. My core pulsed painfully as my eyes widened in surprise.

"Let's get one thing straight," Felix said, placing a hand under my chin so I had no choice but to meet his stern gaze. "When I give a command, I expect obedience. Do you understand?"

With glazed-over eyes, I nodded my head. Felix observed me as he ran his tongue over his lips. "That's what I thought. So be a good girl and stand up."

"Yes, sir." 

The words left my mouth before I realized it, and Felix's face darkened. "Fuck, I knew you were perfect for me." 

I rose to my feet, never breaking eye contact with him. He grabbed my hips, turned me around, and placed a hand on my back, pushing my upper body down. My cheek met his soft comforter as I felt my skirt ride up.

"I think this is in the way," Felix drawled as he eased down the zipper of my skirt and pulled the garment from my body. I turned to see his reaction as he took in the black lace panties I wore, the only clothing I had left. 

A string of curses left his mouth before he delivered a sharp slap to my ass that left behind a stinging sensation. I buried my face in his bedding and pushed my hips back.

Felix pulled my panties to the side, and I felt cool air hit my pussy. "You're fucking drenched, and I haven't even touched you yet," He said, running a finger through my slick folds. "Is this all for me, sweetheart?"

My arousal began dripping down my legs, and I moaned when I felt his tongue begin to lap it up. He licked up my legs and stopped right at my glistening entrance.

"Felix, please," I whined.

"I know, darling, I know," he mumbled, placing his hands on my ass and spreading me open. A soft cry left my mouth at being so exposed, but it was apparent I loved it due to the juices that ran from my pussy. 

Felix's tongue drew tight circles over my clit, and I couldn't stop the whimpers that left my mouth. He eased his finger past my swollen lips, and I clenched around his thick digit. 

"Fuck me, please, I begged. 

"If you want me to fuck you, you need to first cum on my face, Ok?"

Felix's words made my brain short-circuit, so I only nodded in response. He tutted at my reaction before withdrawing his finger and slapping my pussy. "Use your words, darling. What do you say?"

"Yes, sir," I cried.

Seemingly satisfied, Felix lightly pinched my sensitive bud between his fingers as he started fucking me with his tongue. I gripped his sheets tightly as if they were my lifeline. 

"So good," I mewled loudly. It occurred to me that I should probably be quiet on account of the other people living in this building, but the faster Felix's tongue worked in and out of my pussy, the less I cared about who heard. 

"Are you going to cum for me, love?" Felix asked, replacing his mouth with his fingers. Two of them eased into my sopping core and curled down, hitting a spot that had me practically sobbing my answer.

"Yes, sir."

Right as I came, Felix introduced his tongue back into my opening and fucked me through my climax. His thumb roughly worked my overstimulated clit as I gushed all over his face. Felix wasted no time in lapping up my juices, and I couldn't miss the way he groaned in appreciation when doing so. 

"Such a good girl, cumming all over my face, just like I told you to."

Felix's tongue lazily traced my entrance, but my overwhelmed state caused my legs to give out. I was thankful when he caught me.

"It's Ok, darling. I've got you," he said soothingly as he picked me up and gently laid me down on his bed. My head hit his pillow, and I gave a small sigh of contentment.

"Oh no. Don't get too comfortable, sweetheart. I'm not done with you yet." Felix said, leaning over me. His gold chain dangled in front of my face, and I watched it slowly swing back and forth, entranced. 

I snapped back to the present when Felix's fingers wrapped around the waistband of my panties, dragging them down my legs. He threw them over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on me. 

"Do you know how long I've thought about this? Having you naked in my bed, looking up at me with those big eyes, just begging me to ruin you." 

"Then do it, Felix. Ruin me."

My reply had him peeling his black boxers off of his body and revealing his cock, hard and already leaking pre-cum. He stroked himself a few times before reaching across the bed and searching his nightstand's top drawer. He pulled out a small, silver package, but I plucked it from his hold, surprising him.

"No, I want to feel you," I whispered.

Felix hesitated. "Are you sure? I know we're both clean, but-"

"Felix, I want to feel you, even when you cum. Especially when you cum."

My face heated at my admission, but I'd used my fingers to fuck myself too many times, thinking of Felix driving into me, raw and deep, before cumming right at the edge of my cervix, claiming me completely.  

"Jesus," Felix breathed, closing his eyes. "You're going to make me cum before I'm even inside you."

I bit my lip as I watched him spread my legs and stare at pussy, hopelessly clenched around nothing.

"What a pretty cunt. All wet and swollen. Just begging to be stretched with my cock."

Felix lined himself up at my entrance, nudging my clit and causing me to whine impatiently. I bucked my hips, silently pleading for him to fuck me.

Finally, he entered me in a long thrust; I turned my head from side to side as unintelligible words left my mouth. I knew his size was impressive, but nothing could have prepared me for how my walls stretched to accommodate him. 

"It's Ok, sweet girl. I know," Felix said as he circled my clit, giving me pleasure to combat the pain.

"You're so big," I cried, breathless.

"But you can take it, darling. You can take it for me."

Felix's praise caused me to squeeze around him, and I watched his face tense. "So fucking tight, "he groaned. "So fucking perfect for me."

After being able to take all of Felix without much discomfort, he slowly drew out before thrusting back in. My back arched, and he took the opportunity to pinch one of my nipples. I mindlessly moaned and wrapped my legs around his waist so I could take him deeper. 

Felix soon found a steady rhythm in which he fucked me. Our cries clashed in the air, and through my hazy vision, I threaded my hands in his hair, dragging his mouth down to mine. Our tongues danced together in a passionate kiss, and it only drove me higher toward my inevitable orgasm. 

"I'm close," I gasped.

Felix smirked, driving into me harder. "Yeah? You gonna come around my cock, sweetheart?"

I openly wept as Felix wrapped a hand around my neck, applying pressure to just the right spot. 

"God, you're just fucked dumb, aren't you? My girl only knows my cock and nothing else."

"Please," I cried. It wasn't a descriptive word, but Felix understood what I needed.

The pressure around my neck increased, causing a light-headed sensation. Felix pressed his other hand on my lower stomach, causing my eyes to roll back and my mouth to hang open. 

"That's it, pretty girl. You're doing so well. You're gripping me like a fucking vice."

Felix's words drove me over the edge. My cry was guttural, and I clenched around him, causing him to omit a low groan as he reached his own climax. He thrust in one final time, coating my walls with his seed in thick, hot ropes. 

Eyes closed, I fell into a satiated state. My body was numb, yet I could feel every single nerve ending. I was barely awake as Felix pulled out, whispering soft words of praise the entire time. "You did so good for me, my love. I'm so proud of you."

As I registered his words, a faint smile crossed my lips. I glowed under Felix's compliments. 

I heard him walk around his room before feeling him spread my legs. But this time, it was to clean me up with a towel. 

Eventually, a blanket was draped over my body, and Felix pulled me against him in a warm embrace. I rested comfortably on his chest; his steady heartbeat was the perfect lullaby that lulled me to sleep. 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　

chapter index

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 16 - Fallacy

Fallacy (noun) 1. a failure/error in reasoning which renders an argument invalid. 2. a deceptive appearance

Tags & Warnings: Mentions of suicide and depression, Explicit sexual content, Discussions of acts of homophobia and conversion therapy If you see this symbol ♫ I highly recommend to listen to the song "City of Stars" by Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone from the movie 'LaLaLand' (Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/intl-de/track/1xk2Z84gbcn4tPXiiutxzS?si=12af0d158b22496b)

You lifted another 8-pin cable out of a black wooden box, careful not to drop it as your still sweaty hands made everything slippery. Dante. The stagehand was Dante, how did you not recognize him straight away? Now that you knew, it was so obvious. Irritated at your sudden excitement and Dante's beaming smile, Mimzy had quickly ordered you, in a not-so-cute tone of voice “Oy, slackers. Less gawking, more working. The band is going on stage in 30 minutes, so you better get moving.” before pulling a reluctant Alastor backstage. His gaze had been a mixture of surprise, discontent and annoyance as she dragged him along, eyes narrowing at you and the nightingale. You would've felt flattered, but the shock of meeting your long lost friend made you unable to concentrate on anything else.

"I knew it was you the second I saw you." Dante laughed down at you from the ladder, taking the heavy cable from your hands. "I was just waiting for the penny to drop."

Dante had grabbed the end of the cable you were holding and connected it to a spotlight, working with skilled, nimble hands.

"I have no idea how I didn't recognize you sooner."

He hopped down, smiling at you cheekily, just the way he had when you were alive.

"I know, you can be so daft sometimes. Some things never change, eh, munchkin?"

You chuckled at the familiar nickname while he rounded you and plugged the other end of the cable into a power outlet. He quickly checked the time on his wristwatch.

“Okay, done. And with time to spare... you don't wanna see Mimzy when she's angry.” he pulled you to the side, taking two bottles of water out of a backpack, handing you one while opening the other. He eyed you, and his demeanor shifted to nervous and hesitant, now that there wasn't anything but conversation to do. “I'd like to say it's good to see you, but... considering where we are, well...” he started, leaning against a pillar, avoiding your eyes.

“Dante.” you started, fidgeting with your unopened bottle in your hands. “I'm... I'm sorry. I never thought you'd end up... here.”

He gave you a sad smile. “You don't have anything to apologize for, (Y/n). Suicide isn't really a virtue, I knew I'd take the trip down here.” His hands disappeared into his pockets, and you wanted to ask so many things. But you knew Alastor and Mimzy could return any minute, so you decided to postpone the heavy conversation you wanted to have for another time.

“So... you work for Mimzy?”, you asked instead and Date visibly relaxes.

“Temporarily... It's an on-off thing. I'm kind of freelancing, a job here, a job there. It's good money, and she can be very nice and generous.” He chuckled at your doubtful expression. “Don't take her attitude too personally, munchkin. Ever since she saw that video of you, she's kind of miffed that you could fish in her pond. Mimzy doesn't like to share the spotlight.”

You blink at him. “What video?”, you asked, your own confusion mirrored with Dante's.

"The one on the Vee's sinstagram. Velvette posted a story the other day, of you singing in a karaoke joint, apparently it was almost immediately deleted, but it caused quite a stir because she tagged Vox in it, joking about him being 'literally pussy whipped', or something like that." Dante shook his head and sighed. "She was a real pain to work for after that. You didn't know about that?"

"I had no idea. I don't have a smartphone." Well that was just what you needed - Drama with more than just one overlord. How did no one tell you about that? Maybe Charlie, Vaggie and Husk weren't aware, they all used their phones sparingly, but Angel was practically glued to his, and you knew he must have known about it - he was working for one of the Vee's.

"I'm going to kill that spider..." you muttered under your breath.

Dante laughed quietly, and turned his head to the stage, where some demons put up instruments. "I remember the time you spotted a hobo spider in my bathroom and almost demolished my shower cabin, throwing the laundry basket at the thing."

You looked at him. From the fogginess of your mind, a memory materialized, you heard yourself scream in panic and felt the heavy wooden frame as you hurled it against a gigantic brown insect that hung on tiled walls while rushing out a white washed door, right into your friends chest. His loud, amused laughter resounded in your ears as he caught you, and you fell together to the floor. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, and Dante grinned at your giggling figure. In the distance, a door audibly opened.

"All this hubbub and I still missed that damn thing.", you chuckled.

"You always did have shit aim, munchkin, I have a scar from Pettersons' stage fighting class to prove it." he snickered and ruffled your fringe.

"Hey, no flirting on the clock, bird-boy!" Mimzy's voice chimed mockingly, her heels clicked as she and Alastor approached, and you sobered immediately as Alastor's tight smile and burning eyes stalked your face.

"Sorry, Miss Mimzy. We finished right on time and everything is set up and working." Dante took a step away from you, pushing himself between you and the miffed looking woman. He smiled at her, a genuine, bright smile. "And Howard wanted to speak to you about changing the setlist again."

"The hell he will, 'ya leave for five minutes and suddenly he thinks he's John Hammond." She huffed, pulling her strapless dress up at the neckline. "Well, Al, gotta skedaddle, this joint can't run without me. Come by again sometime - alone - have a drink and a dance, just like old times, will 'ya?" Mimzy clicked her tongue at you, then skitted away to find the poor demon called Howard. Which left you and Dante and Alastor. The latter eyed you intensely, while he addressed the still smiling bird demon next to you.

"Dante, is it? Now don't you two look like birds of a feather?", he almost sang, voice light and melodic but his stare was almost violent. "Are you acquainted with my darling little assistant, boy?" He sounded so utterly condescending, you had to cock a brow.

Dante, bless his soul, didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "Very much so, Mr. Alastor. We were best friends in the overworld, almost inseparable." he said cheerfully, completely oblivious of the radiating static that surrounded Alastor.

"Inseparable you say?", Alastor questioned, prickling needles creeping up your legs. "How interesting. Well, as much as I hate to interrupt this surely touching reunion, we do need to take our leave, darling. Say goodbye to your... friend."

"Right.", you said, still irritated by this obvious animosity, but you nodded and took a step to Dante who looked at the both of you with blissful cluelessness. You felt the radio demons looming presence in your neck, and mentally rolled your eyes.

"I live at the Hazbin Hotel. You're welcome to visit anytime... I'd love to... talk." you hurriedly said, before being almost ripped from him by Alastor's iron grip.

"I'd like that too, munchkin. Have a good evening, you too Mr. Alastor." Dante yelled, much too enthusiastically, and waved you goodbye as Alastor practically marched you out of the club. You could've facepalmed yourself. Some things really didn't change, and Dante's talent of being absolutely unable to read a room was one of them.

She was almost jogging next to him, her arm trapped around his, and struggled visibly to keep up with his – admittedly rage-fueled – pace.

He was annoyed, to say the least. Not only was this bird-demon obviously charmed by her, which irritated him to no end, no, but the audacity, the utter nerve he had, calling her such a childish, diminutive pet-name while touching what clearly wasn't his!

That's what he was: Annoyed. And slightly angry. Very, very angry. And, dare he admit, jealous. Yes, he felt jealousy. That vexing pang in his stomach when he saw the way her cheeks flushed and her tail curled when this impertinent creature ruffled her hair, when he saw her openly laughing, handing out a privilege he was sure he had a monopoly of: Her smile. Oh, how he wanted to rip out his feathers then, one by one, and stuff his throat with them until he choked on his own plumage.

Yes, that's what he wanted to do, and it took all his restraint not to give in to these urges.

"Sir... Alastor, please... can we... slow down?” His ears twitched at the sound of her breathless voice, and he stopped abruptly, in his thoughts as well as his stride, making her stumble. He looked down, and his grip loosened instantly. She was clutching his arm, ears and tail hanging low and a worried expression on her face. He blinked at her, the image of her smile and laugh with the stagehand gone, and his rage dissolved. He straightened his back, easing his grip on her a bit more, but he didn't release her.

"Of course, dear, forgive me. I was lost in thought." he said, a bit softer, and she relaxed a bit, sighing deeply.

"I noticed." She looked at him, a frown on her face. "Is something bothering you?"

Alastor snapped his free arm behind his back, pushing away the irritating image of the bird-demon, and grinned down to her. The day had been irritating enough, no need to fill it with further complications.

"Nothing at all, sweetheart. It's just been an awfully long day, hasn't it?", he nonchalantly exclaimed, wanting to wipe the memory of the idiot nightingale away and replacing it with his own touch, so he gently petted her ears. With a grim satisfaction he watched them shiver and her expression melt at his soft display of casual affection.

"Speaking of which, we should get going back to the hotel, wouldn't want to have our friends wait too long for the good news."

She tilted her head questioningly. "So, Miss Mimzy agreed to lend us the equipment?"

"Indeed she did. And the princess will be pleased to hear it won't cost us a helldime." Alastor chuckled at her stunned face. "I just had to remind her of the many times I've handled her ever-returning troubles for no more than her friendship in my pocket and her loyalty on the table."

A beautiful laugh rang out from her throat, and his ears perked at the sound. It sounded so much better at the place where it belonged - between him and you.

"Now, it's getting quite late, let's skip the sauntering and make use of my shadows to hurry home, or we'll risk Niffty to cook dinner."

He received no protest, just a small nod as she tightly gripped his arm. He decided to appreciate this moment of comfortable compliance and couldn't help but to smugly enjoy how close she clung to him as he teleported them back to the hotel.

Three days have passed, and Alastor had returned to his usual, detached self. The news of Alastor's bargain with his friend had Charlie hyped, and that evening, dinner had been on her. She ordered three party-sized pizzas – a cuisine Alastor didn't care for and so he had excused himself to an early nights rest, leaving you with the rest of the residents to live down the events of the day. Angel had been glued to your side the whole time, eagerly waiting for the opportunity to pull you aside. When the group didn't disintegrate after the pizza was gone and bellies were full, he declared loudly that you and him were much too tired for mingling, and had dragged you into his room.

"Tell. Me. Everything!” he had grinned, pulling you onto his bed, legs crossed and face full of impish delight. "Did 'ya yell at him? Did 'ya flip a table? Speak, woman!"

"No, we actually had a pretty normal, regular conversation. You know, like adults."

As much as you had wanted to talk about it, you couldn't tell Angel about your... escapade with Alastor. It was too fragile, too much of a question mark, and you were more than sure Alastor would be livid if anyone knew, let alone Angel Dust. The hotel wouldn't withstand that extend of an explosion.

Angel had raised a single eyebrow, eyes squinted disbelievingly at you, and a deadpanned "Oh come ON, all that riling up and there weren't even dishes flying?" He had sighed dramatically, putting the back of his hand against his forehead. "All my efforts, wasted."

"Not entirely." you had whispered, and decided to at least give him something to feed on. "He told me he's fond of me."

Angel's face had been less than impressed. "Uh-huh, is that old-timey code for 'Show me 'ya ankles?'"

You felt no remorse when the pink heart-pillow had hit him hard and straight in the nose.

You had sworn him to secrecy - "Fine, fine, it's barely some secret anyway, Rocky." - and then changed the subject, confronting Angel about the viral video of you. He outright confessed he knew about it, but told you that "it wasn't a big deal, nothing to worry about. The Vee's do shit like this all the time.", but he looked nervous and uncomfortable, determined to sway the conversation away from the topic. You didn't push it, but made a mental note to find out more about it another time.

Ever since that evening, your routine at the hotel went back to exhaustively uneventful.

Alastor was significantly more present, and therefore more at your side than before - or was it just because you were on the lookout for it now - and he always found a new reason to discreetly touch your arms, back or waist. Not a word was uttered about it, but you swore you sometimes hunger in his eyes and the crooked, knowing smiles he gave you. Yet, the evenings have become lonely again, no visits or invitations, no anything really.

You used the lonesome silence and time waiting for sleep to finally claim you to write in your diary. The sepia pages of the little gift from Rosie were slowly but surely filled, half of the papers were covered in notes, poems or fractured lyrics. Your personal therapy had become an integral part of the nights, the muted scratching on paper helping you gather your thoughts, deal with your increasing fears of rejection and released at least some of the pressure the voices in your head put on your mind. Your writing became a bit more polished, less fragmented than in the beginning, and your pen flew over the pages, words and syllables forming lines and verses, and a certain demon was woven more and more into your work.

Another day, another routine. It had been a pretty productive day, you had finally convinced Husk to dig out his old trumpet and meet you in the ballroom to assess what you'd do for the planned duet. He had been hesitant, the redness of embarrassment visible under his fur. Yet, he came through the double doors with slumped shoulders and a black case in hand and soon after the both of you stood (a bit unceremoniously) on the stage.

"I dunno, kid. I haven't touched that thing in forever." He sighed, the brass instrument in his paws.

"Well, give it a try. For me, pleeeeease?" You blinked at him with overly big, round eyes, and after a short moment, he rolled his eyes and he had given you a defeated nod.

Playing an instrument was like riding a bike - you never really forget how to do it. The same was true for Husk, he picked up his trumpet and, despite the initial rustiness, soon started playing his first song. He laughed, surprised by himself, and you encouraged him to play some more. You listened intently, and after a while, you sat down on the bench and joined him on the piano, improvising the best you could. Soon, the bike ride became a tandem, you and the cat harmonized with ease, and by the end, he wore a very new and unsuspected kind of self-confidence.

The last note was still resonating when the doors of the ballroom were pushed open and a familiar radio voice resounded in the room.

"I knew I'd find you two here."

You and Husk looked up, and Alastor was striding towards you, a curious grin on his face.

"Don't look so shocked, I'm not deaf and this hotel isn't as soundproof as you think." He came to a halt next to Husk, looking at the trumpet. "It seems that you've finally coaxed old Husker out of his artistic retirement."

Husk huffed. "She got a talent for makin' people do shit they wouldn't otherwise."

"Oh, I am well aware of that."

Alastor's eyes were on you, and your gaze dropped down to the keys, your ears twitching nervously. Husk gave the radio demon a wary look, then looked back at you, and then at the both of you again, his brows knitting together, clearly wondering what that was about.

"Hey, uh, Imma grab a drink, oil the old pipes before dinner, yo' know? This was fun, kiddo... Thanks." he said, put the instrument into it's case and hopped off the stage. Without another word he scurried away and out the door.

"Seems you have another resident wrapped around your little finger." Alastor's voice was right behind you as you fiddled with the music stand.

"I wouldn't say that. I just showed him that he had other talents than mixing drinks and sleeping upright.", you said gingerly, placing your hands in your lap. "But I'm glad you heard us. What do you think?", you asked, turning to look at him, a slight blush on your cheeks. He didn't move away from his close position, and the proximity made your tail sway.

Alastor leaned down to reply, again with that glint of hunger in his eyes, his face so dangerously close to yours, so easy to close the small distance between your...

"Husk said she's in there, oh, she'll be so happy! (Y/n)! You have a visitor!", Charlie burst through the doors with more than her usual enthusiasm, the glass in the wing doors chiming from the impact. Behind her, Dante trailed alongside Vaggie and a very pleased looking Angel. Alastor straightened, took a small, unimpressed step back and faced the intrusion, all traces of his former state erased with perfect timing and a subtle sigh of annoyance, leaving you confused and blinking in bewilderment.

You, however, were visibly flushed and taken off guard and Angel, curse that mischievous idiot, cocked a single eyebrow suggestively at you, an angelic smirk on his lips and wiggling his own eyebrows up and down at you behind Charlie, Vaggie and Dante. He would have no chance of survival if looks could kill.

Dante's smile grew wide when he caught your eyes. He was dressed more informal than last time, more like his old self - a simple, tight-fitting white shirt under a sandy brown, heavy-knitted cardigan and light blue jeans.

"I finally finished my gig at Mimzy's yesterday night and thought I'd swing by. Wasn't sure whether your invitation still stood..." He put his hands into his pockets, smile and stance awkward. "But I really wanted to see you again, munchkin."

The harsh and loud sound of feedback cut your answer off. Heads turned, and Angel stifled a snicker and Charlie and Vaggie stared at Alastor, who looked innocently into the distance, grin wide and stiff, his hands hidden behind his back. You however, ignoring the increasing static attacking your back, jumped up from the bench and hurried down the stage.

"Of course the invitation stands. I'm glad you came, Dante."

Charlie took your hands, hopping up and down on her feet as she spoke. "I've already shown him around the hotel! He told me his amazing story of being reunited with you after all this time, it's so nice to meet a friend of yours, (Y/n)!" Charlie beamed at the nightingale, “He's such a nice guy!”

"Yeah, Rocky, where have you been hidin' this hunk A' feathers? And here I was thinkin' 'ya didn't have any hot friends besides me. Guess you have a few skeletons in 'ya closet afterall, eh?" Angel grinned, appreciatively eyeing Dante's backside.

"Alright, let's cool the sexual harassment down, he's only just arrived." Vaggie said unnerved, already pushing the smirking spider out the double doors. "I'm sure they have a lot of catching up to do, how about we give them a few minutes? Dinner in half an hour?" Charlie nodded, following her girlfriend's lead. "You two take your time, we'll be in the kitchen!" She gave Alastor, who hadn't moved at all, a slightly challenging look.

His red eyes snapped to Charlie, the static snapping into a calm hum. "Ah, yes, of course, let's leave those two to reminisce about the good old days." His laugh seemed a little bit forced, but his movements were smooth as he passed you, and stopped just briefly enough to brush your lower back, his eyes fixed on the unsuspecting nightingale. "Do stay for dinner, Dante. Our lovely Niffty does make a fantastic roast chicken , when she get her hands on the right ingredients ." His words, although nice, were sublimely laced with an underlying threat. Something that flew right over both Charlie's and Dante's head, apparently.

Your friend gave Alastor an almost blinding smile. "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Alastor, that's mighty kind of you."

Charlie's smile was strained, her eyes flickering back and forth between the three of you, and she gave you an apologetic shrug as Alastor turned on his heels and strutted out the door, hurrying after him. You watched the doors closed with a loud thud, shaking your head at the passive-aggressiveness Alastor showed Dante for apparently simply existing.

“Man, everyone's so nice here.” Dante smiled innocently. Oh Satan. Ignorance truly is bliss.

“Yeah, they are... well-meaning.”, you compromise, fidgeting with the ruffles of your blouse. You looked at your friend, not knowing where to begin the conversation you wanted to have the moment you realized who he was. Dante watched your fingers picking at the delicate fabric, his smile turning into a sad, crooked line.

“Come on, ask, I know you want to.”

You swallowed hard.

"What happened, Danny?” His eyes dropped at the long forgotten nickname. “One day, we were out buying a gift for your mom's birthday, and a week later, I get a call that...”, your voice broke, and you blinked tears away. Dante took a step towards you and grabbed your hands.

"I know, munchkin, I know. I'm so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am." He sighed, his breath trembling. “I told them when I was at mamma's house, one day after her birthday. I came out. I thought I was ready, they were ready. But they weren't.”

He turned his back to you, a hand brushed nervously trough his hair, combing back his quiff. “They... well, papa was furious, mamma cried and screamed. I... They told me I'm a disgrace, that I was... sick, and needed to get help. I wasn't allowed to come back to the academy, they wanted to send me to a conversion camp, to... cure me."

You reached out to him, but he began to move, walking back and forth while gesturing nervously. "When I said I didn't want that, that I can't try to be someone I'm not, that I didn't want to pretend and lie to my family anymore... they threw me out. They said.... that I wasn't their son anymore. That I was dead to them. I felt... trapped, and scared, and like a mistake. And then, I stood at that bridge, and I just..."

Dante's shoulders shook, his hand buried in his hair, he sobbed loudly and his voice was raw with emotion.

"Danny...", you whispered, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You hugged him tightly, and he turned to return the embrace. He held you closely, crying quietly into the crook of your neck. "I'm so sorry, Danny. So, so sorry."

You stood there for a while, the nightingale's sniffles and your gentle hushing the only sound in the empty room. Then, he pulled away from you, and wiped his wet cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?", you asked, a rogue tear rolling down your cheek. "I would've helped you, I would've been there for you."

Dante smiled sadly at you. "I know. But you had already so much on your plate. Your mom, and your jobs, and your own depression. I couldn't be another burden on your shoulders, you were already close to drowning, munchkin."

You felt awful. Guilty. Devastated. You felt a deep, unrelenting sadness for your friend, for what he had been through, and what he had done because of it. And you were angry, for not being there, not seeing the signs, not saving him from the people who were supposed to love him, but didn't.

Dante gently put his fingers on your cheek, wiping away the stray tear. "Do you remember when I came out to you? Second year, just after our songwriting workshop. I was so scared, I didn't know what would happen, what you'd say. But you accepted me, accepted everything, the way I am." He took your hand and lead you up to the piano again. “The day after, you took me to see LaLaLand.” he chuckled, pulling you onto the bench beside him. “It was the first time I went with a girl to the movies without her thinking it would end in the sheets.”

You chuckled too, weakly. “You cried the whole ride back, I remember.”

"A man has the right to be sad if Ryan Gosling is singing. Those are the rules." he nudged your shoulder, his playful tone returning. Then, he looked at the keys, his left hand tenderly placing itself on the lower half of the piano. "That night, we promised we'd be always there for each other... I'm sorry I broke that promise. ♫

The notes were blunt, but full of melancholy. Dante was never a piano player, but he was so obsessed with this song, you had taught him the left hand in countless nights on his keyboard at home, while full on take-out pasta and cheap Ginger Ale. He started singing, unsure and out of practice, but still as beautiful as you remembered his voice to be. Any faint sound, was it statc?, drowned out by his tender notes.

♫City of stars Are you shining just for me? City of stars There's so much that I can't see♫

Your right hand moved on it's own to the higher keys, joining his and completing the melody.

♫Who knows? I felt it from the first embrace I shared with you.♫

Your voice felt thick and course, but you smiled when you started to sing, and heard him breathe a small sigh of relief. As if he feared you wouldn't join in, leaving him alone. As if you could ever do that.

♫That now our dreams They've finally come true City of stars Just one thing everybody wants There in the bars And through the smokescreen of the crowded restaurants♫

Dante nudged your side with his elbow, something he always used to do to make you miss a note or two, and while singing, you couldn't help but join his chuckle. Your hands moved in wonderful unison, completing each others lack of confidence. Like two pieces of an old puzzle, reunited in a beat-up cardboard box, suddenly falling into place and fitting perfectly again.

♫It's love Yes, all we're looking for is love from someone else

A rush A glance A touch A dance♫

You looked at each other, coaxing the opposite into a grin, while your fingers grew steadier and in self-confidence in pressing down on the keys.

♫A look in somebody's eyes To light up the skies To open the world and send it reeling A voice that says, I'll be here And you'll be alright♫

Dante swayed side to side, his face playful and challenging, and you took the challenge, straightening your back and took on an almost arrogant pose, accentuating the higher notes you played with a smug expression, earning his signature amused huff.

♫I don't care if I know Just where I will go 'Cause all that I need is this crazy feeling A rat-tat-tat of my heart Think I want it to stay♫

His gaze fell back to the whites and blacks of the piano, the corners of his lips falling down again, and he looked forlorn, as if deep in contemplation. You watched him silently, wondering, if he didn't decide to end his life, if he still would've ended up here, in hell.

♫City of stars Are you shining just for me? City of stars♫

You leaned your head on his shoulders, closing your eyes. No, you decided. He wouldn't have.

♫You never shined so brightly...♫

Both of your hands rested on the last set of keys. For a moment, none of you spoke, moved or breathed. The last tunes faded into the empty, lowly humming hall and Dante's head finally fell against yours, his cheek warm in your hair.

"Stay. Here at the hotel."

You opened your eyes and looked into his, smiling earnestly. He looked at you, a bit taken aback, but said nothing.

"Charlie and the others are nice people. They'll love you, and they would accept you just as I did. And if, by any chance and miracle, redemption really is possible, then I know you'd be the first one to archive it, Danny."

"Do you really think I could?", he asked, a hopeful light in his eyes.

"I absolutely believe you could. And no matter what happens, I'd be there for you. Just like we promised."

The nightingales hand slid off the keys, and softly cupped yours, before closing over it completely, engulfing in a warm grasp.

"Just like we promised." he said, determination in his voice.

You opened the doors, still laughing when you ran against something red and solid. Alastor stood rigidly in front of you both, almost glowing in the darkness of the corridor. His toothy smile was menacing, dark swirls of his shadows danced along the walls. Oh-oh.

"Ah, what wonderful timing!”, he said overly joyous, a straight indication of his aggravation. “Husker and Niffty are just dying to meet our visitor."

"Actually", Dante interrupted cheerfully, stupidly wrapping an arm around your shoulders in an unconscious effort to be obliterated, "(Y/n) here convinced me to stay, so... I guess I'll ask princess Charlie to become a permanent resident here!"

Please, please, please, ground, you pleaded, swallow me whole.

Alastor's eyes twitched, and the corners of his lips pulled higher than you've ever seen them.

"My, aren't that news that'll ruffle some feathers?", he pressed through his teeth, a malevolent static laced around his voice. "Why don't you hurry to the kitchen and tell her, my good fellow? Me and this darling kitten will join you shortly, there's some urgent business we have to take care of. Don't wait for us to start enjoying dinner."

"Sure thing, Mr. Alastor!", the nightingale chirped, blissfully ignorant, and made his way down the corridor. "I'll tell them the good news and save you a seat, munchkin!"

Alastor's claws grabbed your shoulder as he followed your friends silhouette disappearing into the foyer, before he pulled you towards him, taking your wrist hostage. You wanted to ask what was wrong, but his shadows were faster, enveloping you in an instant.

His hand were still clamped down on your wrist when the shadowtravel ended abruptly, and your feet fell into damp, soft ground. You blinked confused, head dizzy from the unexpected transportation. Alastor finally let go, and you almost fell backwards into the softness surrounding you. Around you were tall reeds and grasses, that lined the edges of shimmering bodies of shallow waters, like a swamp, rustling softly in an explainable breeze. There was a whisper of crickets in the air, and the dim illumination of a pale-blueish moon above your head, hidden by thick, almost indigo colored leaves of cypress trees.

"I do have to say, my dear, I am surprised,", Alastor stated, his voice betraying his fake, lighthearted smile – he sounded utterly enraged. "I did not take you for the type who would so blatantly throw oneself at the next best tail. Especially not since the right to your body isn't yours to give."

"Wh- What are you talking about?" You stuttered, taken aback. If he intended to make you blush, he hit his mark, but with your confusion, his choice of words was even more questionable, as was his accusation. For a moment, you were baffled. Blinking slowly, his words echoed in your mind. Was he suggesting that...

"I think it's high time I remind you that your body, soul, mind and heart, belong to me.", Alastor took one long step, until your shoes almost touched, and his body loomed over yours. "Undress."

Oh god, yes. Your eyes widened, your mind catching on fire. Your hands instinctively went to the buttons of your blouse, like a natural response to his order ingrained in every fiber. His stare was all consuming, he was literally pouring with possessiveness and - dare you say - jealous energy, and it drove you insane. As unhealthy as it very possibly was, you felt almost power drunk at the thought of Alastor - THE Radio Demon - enacting on jealous rage just because he saw you touch or talk to somebody else- not to mention your very gay best friend. He wants us. But that was the crux, wasn't it? Was he reacting to his, or just your feelings? You had been so full of emotion after speaking with Dante, maybe this reaction of him was - once again - your doing. No, please no. Let him want us.

The whining, wanton voices in your mind made your head impossibly fuzzy, but at the same time, adrenaline spiked your heart rate, flooding your brain with excitement and yearning.

"Alastor... um, maybe my emotions, I mean... my powers are a bit confusing right now?", you started to ramble, trying to regain the little clarity you had left.

"Frankly, darling, I really don't care about whether it's your silly power or not. ʊռɖʀɛֆֆ.”

The amount of intensity that backed his voice made you tremble so hard it had to be registered on the Richter scale. You stopped, hesitated a moment longer - not because you didn't want to obey him, not in the slightest, but because you were overwhelmed by your own, visceral reactions -, but your hands kept popping the buttons, until the collar fell open.

He watched with such voracious intent as your trembling fingers opened the next few, gradually exposing the upper curve of your breasts. His eyes didn't miss any detail, as you finished unbuttoning it. You lifted it from the waistband of your pants and slipped the thin fabric off your shoulders, and he only stepped in closer to you when it fluttered to the floor.

Your skin already glowed faintly, an effervescent mist hovering over it in the strange ambiance around you, pink against teal. Your own heat collided with the cool air of the bayou as you stepped out of your pants, kicking off your shoes in the process - the last barrier only your flimsy, plain black underwear. It felt dangerous, exhilarating, you felt vulnerable and at the same time strangely powerful, and the surge of those two conflicting emotions electrified you.

Alastor's gaze hungrily traveled from the soft expanse of your exposed throat, down the thin curve of your sternum, stopping at your chest before it was shielded by the thin fabric of your bra. The short journey ended when his eyes focused on the crook of your neck again,

"Go on, little gem, you're almost there.", he crooned, tilting his head with a wicked expression when you reached for the clasp of your bra. Your heart made a salto montale.

"Take. It. Off."

The snap of the clasp echoed the flutter of your heart as the cloth fell over your arms onto the ground. You stood shivering, breathless, his starved look making every nerve in you jump. Your nipples hardened as the coolness hit them, goosebumps littered your skin, but it was obvious that you weren't shaking because of the cold. He drank you in, his ears flicked shortly - a brief, subconscious gesture of amusement and satisfaction at your unyielding compliance and the instant reaction your body displayed as a consequence of it. With an agonizing finality, you slipped your fingers under the straps of your panties, and pushed them down, letting them join the mess of fabrics under your feet.

He looked at you as you were something only meant for his eyes, like a masterpiece that had been hidden from the public by a passionate collector. Something he would have wrapped in silk and kept in darkness until he decided to unveil it in the right circumstances, making it only his own to adore - and covet.

He moved, slowly, stepping around your now exposed and vulnerable body. He circled you like a shark, unraveling your frame inch by inch as he walked in an unapologetic, predatory rhythm, savoring every crevasse, every plane that made you up, enjoying every moment of you yielding your bare body to him, your tail whipping around your thighs in nervous swishes.

He reached out with an impish smile, his fingers glided through the soft fur of your tail, letting you twitch and whine at the teasing pull on it.

"I'll make it perfectly clear, kitten, so you won't make this foolish mistake again." Alastor pushed you down, and you fell back with a small cry into the softness of moss and soil. You wanted to say something, but before you even had a chance of uttering anything remotely intelligible, he had thrown off his overcoat and rolled up his sleeves, revealing blackened fingers and hands fading into light gray, not unlike your own skin color before his shirt concealed what looked like soft, thin traces of red fur.

His claws dug into your thighs, spreading them with absolute ease - as if you had a chance of resisting - and knelt in between them, fixated on your painfully throbbing, exposed wetness. You arched at the sharp feeling of his nails piercing into your soft flesh, mind numb from the lack of oxygen as you forgot to breathe entirely.

"This..." he leaned in and dragged his tongue flat through your folds, flicking the sensitive bud above in the process - just briefly and shallow enough for the sensations to register before they ebbed again. Your gasp was as loud as it was shattering, drawing the last reserves of your fleeting air out of your lungs.

"...belongs..." once more he dragged, dipping his tongue deeper this time, before flicking out the pointed tip playfully, leaving you a whimpering mess, and shifted his hands towards your knees - opening you almost criminally wide. He hummed in deep satisfaction, harmonizing with the whispering sounds of the waters and the crickets, the vibrations traveling like a landline right from his mouth into your deepest core.

"...only..." This time, he let the very tip of his tongue swipe the tip of your pearl, again and again, an addicting and wickedly slow pace. Alastor's claws left the spot behind your knees, finding new interest on the lower halves of your belly and chest, scratching almost harshly from your rib cage, down towards your public bone. His nails left tiny trails of redness behind - like writing poetry on your body with your own blood.

"...to..." he smiled menacingly at your whimpering, panting self, your mind addled, your eyes already shimmering through the wildest shades of the color wheel.

"...ME." His unholy mouth closed fully around your clit. Your moans became frantic when he started to suction the already raw spot in perfect, overwhelming pressure and coaxed his tongue, round after round and in slow, sinful pace, over it. You cried out his name, hands flying foolishly into his hair, finding enlarged antlers and gripping onto them like you'd drown without them, desperate for purchase, desperate to hold onto something. He let you, and intensified his ministrations, feeling your mind-breaking build in delight.

You came - oh, how you came - with an urgency and intensity that stole your breath away - yet he relentlessly licked you through it, not relenting in pace or pressure - keeping you on this devastating and haunting edge, drinking every last drop with such hungry need as if it were water and he was dying in a desert. When he finally relented, you fell back exhausted, panting, shaking, sweating. Alastor pushed your hands softly from his antlers, releasing them from your grasp. He was towering over you now, your trembling legs falling on either side of his, completely open - bare, utterly spent and limp. His eyes were on yours, ravenous, his mouth glistening wet from your juices. With his lips curled in a merciless smile, he watched you writhe under the aftershocks, and it only added another tingling sensation on top of them - making you moan and shiver even more, so vulnerable under his gaze alone.

"Did the message come across now, kitten?"

"Perfectly.“, you whispered, still spent from your orgasm. He brushed your disheveled locks tenderly and reached out with his claw, teasing your lower lip with its pointy, razor-sharp tip. A rogue drip of blood escaped your mouth as he cut it, he caught it and licked it off his finger, closing his eyes and letting a gratifying hum escape his throat.

The gang was halfway through dinner when you and Alastor appeared. A snap of his fingers had restored your disheveled physical state, yet it was you who bore the consequences mentally - forcing yourself into a neutral, innocent expression after what happend proved impossibly hard. Half of the table eyed you with suspicion as you made your apologies and sat down - Angel winked, Husk simply raised a brow, Vaggie crossed her arms in disapproval. The other half - Charlie, Niffty and Dante - however smiled happily, the nightingale unaware and innocently patting the empty chair next to him encouragingly. He had, indeed, saved you a seat.

Charlie stood up almost jovially, welcoming a new potential sinner and resident of the Hazbin Hotel now that everyone was present.

"So, let's try and give Dante the best possible welcome to our family!", she chimed, raising her glass to a toast. Dante smiled his usual boyish smile as the others - with the exeption of Alastor, who observed your friend with quiet distaste - joined their glasses to cheer.

"Hear, hear!", Angel grinned, leaning over to Dante with a sly look, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. "Are ya roomed yet, birdie boy? If not, why don't 'ya crash with me? I got a big... bed.", he offered seductively, giving the nightingale a full-on flirty look. Throughout the following groans, indignant huffs and amused giggles, Dante laughed heartily.

"I don't think that would be the best idea, I wouldn't want to tempt you.", he gave the e flamboyant spider a good natured wink, completely unfazed by the other's shameless advances. Angel huffed dramatically, resting his elbows on the table and cupping his chin in his hands, batting his long lashes at him.

"The offer still stands, Tweety, I like the challenge of turning a straight guy around."

Dante gave you a quick glance, nodding slightly and took a small breath. "Well, then you need to look for one.”

The spider leaned back, a curious tilt of the head while Charlie gave a confused smile and looked between them. "I... beg your pardon?"

You gave your old friend a small, encouraging smile, and put your hand softly on his arm while you avoided looking at Alastor as to not burst out in laughter for what was about to happen.

"I said, 'you need to look for one', because I'm gay.", he said bluntly, smile nervous but genuine. “Munchkin told me you'd be okay with that... I am kind of closeted, she's the only one who knew until now.”

Radio silence hung for a few seconds. Then Charlie jumped up quickly and almost threw herself over the table, a squeak of happiness as her arms encircled Dante's neck in an awkward hug, almost making him fall from his chair. “OH MY GOSH! Of course we're okay with that, I'm so honored, so proud of you to tell us!”

He patted her arm with a bright laugh, as the table erupted in surprised and happy chatter. Vaggie rubbed her temple, sighing in loving disbelief at her girlfriend's dramatic outburst. Husk didn't bat an eye, going back to his meal, but was smirking openly and raised his glass to Dante's statement. Niffty clapped cheerfully, while Angel applauded loudly, catcalling and hollering lewd praises.

You dared to look at Alastor, and the sight was worth everything: the Radio Demon looked shocked. Actually, he looked as close to 'being dumbfounded' as he'd ever get, with the biggest 'what-just-happened-expression' plastered across his face and irritated static popping all around him. When he regained his composure, he smoothed his tie and searched for your eyes. With the rest of the group distracted by congratulating Dante, no one noticed Alastor mouthing at you a single word:

"Touché."

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