#the worst nightmare he’s had in recent memory was definitely the stabbing one but it was like. mason he was stabbing

[lilbittymonster]

Since Kitali wasn't into/straight up didn't like Estinien and Aymeric at first, which one won her over first? Were they trying to or did their relationships blossom naturally after time spent together?

I've been thinking about this all day and I think it was Estinien. Who then shot himself in the feet by dipping out of Ishgard after he could walk again. But they were definitely hurtling towards Something before he left.

And a large part of it is the forced proximity. They're both dragoons, and even if Kitali isn't formally recognised as one by the Holy See she's still working on contract with them. And especially since Estinien is stuck in the city on house arrest after his little stunt with stealing the Eye and trying to run away with it.

Estinien very much wanted, if not her friendship, at least her cooperation. She's a damn good dragoon, and their order had just suffered significant losses in the most recent dragon attack. And Kitali was trying to find a way to anchor herself in the city's good graces that didn't rely on a stranger being nice enough to let her couch surf in their manor indefinitely. So while yes they were at each other's throats (not the sexy kind alas) it was still a mutually beneficial arrangement.

They don't really start turning a corner until the first shared nightmare. Which is the pinnacle of forced proximity. They learn things about the other far more quickly than either of them are comfortable with but also sort of take solace in the fact that "at least it's not just me, at least I'm not alone in this". The biggest running theme with them is self recognition through the other. And they really don't hit the "oh wait are we friends now? I think this counts as friends now" until the Dravania roadtrip (god I miss the Dravania roadtrip THEE most arc of all time. to me.) and subsequent felling of Nidhogg the first time.

Aymeric, for his part, is actively trying to get on Kitali's good side. Yes, he has a bit of an ulterior motive, but it's about as ulterior as Estinien's in which she's a damn good dragoon and he needs all the help he can get to end this war so he can move onto his own agenda of Fixing Ishgard For The Better. He also just...thinks she's neat? And still kinda idolises her a bit? And he wants her to not be angry at him for whatever it is that he did to piss her off so much (this is an entire miscommunication Thing I promise it gets resolved. eventually.)

Enough time passes that Kitali slowly (very. very slowly) lowers her hackles around him a bit once she sees that he does actually have a modicum of altruism to his actions. Yeah he's still a cog in the machine but he's not the absolute worst cog in the machine. He does very genuinely care about trying to keep people safe and doing The Right Thing.

The two of them don't really get any interpersonal development until the aftermath of the Vault, where Aymeric isn't constantly off doing Lord Commander shit and they have time to just sit and talk, as people, while he's recovering. And then it's off to the races with the whole Bismarck thing and getting the aether lance made with Matoya, honestly my memory of MSQ is still very fuzzy there, but he is Extremely Concerned for her welfare and greatly upset that he's stuck useless in bed.

And then Azys Lla happens and Estinien gets 'Hogged and Kitali returns on dragonback mildly concussed and dissociating about having just lost two more people right in front of her and Aymeric is not-so-mildly panicking at the news of losing his closest friend/ex who he's still in love with and the question of Are We Going To Have To Kill Estinien is hanging over everyone.

And then he gets stabbed! And Kitali's heart drops into her stomach hearing Lucia say there was an attempt on his life! She doesn't know what these feelings mean! She's going to go fuck Hilda for a few months while she tries to figure it out.

Aymeric and Kitali's whole "will we won't we" happens during the Reconstruction. Which I place directly post-HW since...that's where it makes the most sense to. And it comes to a head after dealing with Omega and Shinryu where Kitali needs to teleport somewhere safe after watching Yet Another Fucking Guy Die Right In Front Of Her Salad and without thinking consciously she winds back up in Ishgard pushing her way into the Congregation before she even recognises where she is.

And I've talked about this a ton so I'll just give the tl;dr of Kitali made her and Aymeric rings before she went to deal with Dun Scaith and she didn't figure out her end of things with Estinien until the DRG 70 fight and their conversation in Reunion (how aptly named, huh) and then she and Estinien don't kiss until almost the end of Endwalker.

So like. This got away from me just a tad. However. They are a Mess. And I love them all so very much and just enjoy talking about them even though I must sound like a broken record at this point.

Thank you so much for asking @oh-yeah-no

[impossible-rat-babies]

Uhhhh no read more bc mobile but garbage thoughts on pollux’s twc backstory, the juicy bits anyway:

—fell on hard times in college/had a real bad time with actually doing college. ended up in a real bad depressive/anxiety spiral and fell into substance abuse. ended up in the wrong sorts of crowds of people, would have instances of waking up in places he didn’t know/didn’t know how he got there.

—got even deeper into things + figured out he’s good enough w computer hacking, so make some money ya know. pinch money from offshore accounts, let some viruses run around for someone else, etc. used a lot of those skills for folks he didn’t really know and didn’t know in the grand scheme of “pissing off the wrong people” sort of things. they paid him and that was good enough. wouldn’t get paid if he asked too many questions. still had the idea that he’s got a good enough head on his shoulders to know when he’s really in trouble.

—he’s couch surfing/homeless/squatting in various places, using Internet cafes and sleeping in dumpsters when he can. isn’t really always aware of what he’s doing/what he’s hacking, etc. but he’s not gotten caught by the law so he’s all good.

—does end up getting caught, but not by the government. people he doesn’t really know but the sort of “aw heck I bet I stole some money/info from you” sort of thing. didn’t end well, not at all. he’s got a lot of vague grey areas but then memories that are a lot of high definition 1080p ultra hi yes no thank you brain.

—he managed to get himself away by stabbing a guy with a makeshift shank until he stopped moving which is forever plastered on the back of his eyelids. (one of his reoccurring nightmares is of that incident)

—he kept a low profile for a real long time after that, sleeping in dumpsters and homeless shelters while he tried his best to heal up. had some really big rough patches during those few months. rebecca, literally rebecca herself, opened the lid on the dumpster he was half conscious in and got him out.

—spent months in and out of hospital/rehab/therapy getting clean and healthy again and pieces of what happened started coming together. A lot of strings got pulled, especially on rebecca’s end, so he didn’t end up in jail. it was sort of rebecca’s ultimatum/he really didn’t have a choice to go to the academy.

—loads of things are hindsight, especially when his injuries were healing. like oh X injury was probably caused by Y thing and oh boy that is. nasty. there are things he’s glad he doesn’t remember

[katnissmellarkkk]

A couple weeks ago or so @rosegardeninwinter requested a neck kisses fic. This is being trying to oblige 🥰. Ngl after my recent experience posting fic, I’m super nervous now but I figure why not hurry up and get back on the horsey. So anyways, this fic is essentially so sugary it should give you a cavity 😍. So brave yourselves.

For some reason, my nightmares never really changed. In the three years that’d taken place since the war, I had yet to experience anything truly new or inventive from my psyche.

From Cato being eaten by mutts, having his flesh torn bite by bite from the bone beneath to Clove chasing me down until my legs give out and I land on the cold, wet dirt, having no other choice but awaiting the stab of her knife. From Mags running into the fog, only to have her body implode, to have pieces of her rain upon all of us to Finnick making it to the top of the ladder, to safety seemingly, only to fall downwards again anyways, landing right in the mutts’ grasp, his body torn to pieces in seconds, watching him suffer before I finally blew up the halo and definitively end his agony. To the haunting requiem of my little sister, standing in the Capitol Square, trying to save ailed children around her, only to be blown sky high before my very eyes. None of my dreams in the last three years have seen much change.

So I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked by what other nightmare tends to circulate my unconscious. It should have been expected—I should have expected it—that my reunion with Peeta in Thirteen would be finding its way into my dreams too.

It’s another reoccurring nightmare. One that’s come up seven or eight times since the war. But it never does get easier. The recollection of that moment never does get any easier to bear.

I think the worst part of the dream is the fact that none of it is fabricated. Unlike the nightmares of Cato and Mags, which are highly false, or even the remembrance of my sister’s death which is a bit exaggerated, this dream is the only one that is shocking and terrifying enough, all on its own merits.

It happens perfectly accurate to the reality. At least the reality according to my memory.

I walk in, excited beyond measure to see Peeta again, alive and safe. I imagine him kissing me, hugging me, holding him close to me, feeling his heart beat beneath my ear. I feel the same anticipation I felt back three years ago, as if it were happening all over again.

And I don’t know if I honestly believed, back in that moment, that our reunion would go necessarily that picturesque, but I do know that I believed it would be a celebratory moment.

I know I never believed it to go the way it did.

In the dream, just the same as my memory, I walk into the room. I race towards him, the same as him, it seems for a moment.

My lips are forming his name when his hands lock around my throat.

The dream is horrific in every way, but in no way more so than the moment the choking starts. Because in that exact second, I recognize what’s coming. I understand then it’s just a dream.

But it’s one I must live out to the end, under Peeta is cold-cocked and I’ve passed completely out from the lack of necessary oxygen.

When I wake, as always, I’m shaking in fear. There’s tears running down my face. And I’m screaming. I’m flying upwards and screaming on top of my lungs.

And Peeta, my companion in the nightmare and now in life, is next to me, already sitting up against the headboard, waiting for this to come. Waiting for me to awake and cry out.

Which is a clear indicator that I was evidently talking in my sleep.

I struggle to catch my breath for second, my whole posture hunching over as the images of the event fade from my mind.

As soon as my body language relaxes even the slightest bit, Peeta’s placing a hand on my back, very carefully. This experience isn’t new to him either, despite the fact that he can’t recall for the life of him the moment it actually occurred. Unlike every other nightmare, Peeta has learned the hard way not to touch me as soon as I wake from this one. Until I’m sure of my surroundings, until I know I’m in my bedroom, that I’m with him and he’s Peeta again and I’m safe and it’s all over, it’s not a good idea for him to touch me.

Memories of sustained bruises, claw marks across his cheek, and my surprisedly swift attack serve as proof of that.

As if the feeling of his warm hand on my now sweaty back relays me into action, I’m breaking to pieces, I’m crying real, frantic tears and lunging forward, practically throwing myself into his warm and inviting arms.

Peeta readily holds me on his lap, rocking me back and forth just as he did on the beach, after the jabberjays were done with me. Just like then, he whispers soothing words to me, trying to calm down my shaking, whispering directly into my ear.

Unlike in the arena though, Peeta leans in and kisses the shell of my ear, gently massaging it with his lips. “It’s okay,” he promises as I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent of vanilla and cinnamon and something entirely his own, feeling his soft skin against my cheek, having the insane urge to press my mouth to it, to feel him with my lips suddenly.

I don’t act on the impulse but it’s one I definitely consider. It’s something I imagine doing, that I never would have allowed myself to picture three years ago.

His hand trails up the side of my shirt, rubbing my bare side, trying to calm me through his soft touch. “You’re okay,” he whispers once again, his lips finding my forehead, kissing there repeatedly, like he does when we make love.

I sigh against him, feeling a shudder run through my body, like the dream has to physically work its way out. “I hate that dream,” I complain against him, my voice still not strong enough to speak and therefore breaking as I try.

Apparently my tone upsets him too because I feel him clutch me tighter now. “I know,” he says remorsefully.

“I wish I could erase it from my memory,” I continue as he kisses my hair now.

“I know, baby.”

Neither of us speak again for a long time, instead just laying in a heap against the headboard, Peeta holding me to him, never letting go for even a second.

Eventually Peeta breaks the silence. “Do you want to try sleeping again?”

I shrug, still too shaken by the visions playing behind my lids to consciously decide. “I don’t know.”

He gently scoots me off his lap, moving to lay with me on my side on the mattress, snuggling his body up close behind. Snuggling so close that I can feel every uneven breath he takes in, feel every tiny beat of his heart against my shoulder blade, feel the way his breath tickles the back of my neck.

The area feels sensitive again now, feels like it should still have bruises on it, feels like I still shouldn’t be speaking.

Unconsciously, my hand raises up to touch it, to feel it, bracing myself for the tenderness and pain that rationally I’m aware are long gone.

And of course, Peeta notices.

I feel a tear hit my shoulder, where his face is buried and my heart breaks in an entirely different way. In an entirely worse way.

“I’m sorry,” I croak softly, because I am. I hate that these nightmares, that my residual flashbacks and phantom pain all take their toll on him as well.

“No,” he refuses and I feel him tug on my hip, silently imploring me to turn around and face him. “No, this is about what I did to you. You’re not the one who’s going to apologize, Katniss.”

The tears in my eyes are still fresh though and there’s so many of them, ready to fall at a second’s notice and I can’t hold them back now.

“It wasn’t you,” I insist.

“Is that why you’re always afraid of me touching you after this dream?”

He has me there and my lip trembles even more as I break eye contact.

“No, Katniss, don’t cry,” he pleads now, his baby blues growing desolate with the request. “Come here.”

He guides my face closer to his, pressing his lips to my quivering mouth with awe and tenderness, consoling me in a way that is so intimate, it makes me grateful I didn’t realize I loved him until after the cameras were gone. Until every prying lense was as far away from me and Peeta as humanly possible. I’d never want anyone else to steal these tiny moments from us now. I want these touches to only belong to me and him.

He kisses my lips, eliciting the simmer of a spark between us that we both know I’m in no shape to build. But that’s not what these kisses are for. Peeta doesn’t want to make love. He wants to show me his love, show me physically all the ways in which he could never hurt me like that again, show me all the ways that what happened couldn’t have been him. Couldn’t have been the real him, if his life depended on it.

His lips move from my mouth to my cheek, to sides of my face, across my temples, over my forehead, my hairline, softly between my bushy eyebrows.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers reverently and I feel his hand slide up the front of my shirt now, massaging the warm skin there.

I close my eyes as the sensation of his kisses relaxes me a little, as they replace the feeling of imminent dread, of gut digging anxiety, with a warmth, a safety, a feeling of love and peace and comfort, that only Peeta has ever been able to give me.

“I wish I could take it all away,” he whispers as his lips hover over mine again.

I surprise him by leaning up and giving him an unexpected peck. “It’s just a memory now, Peeta,” I try to say nonchalantly.

But he doesn’t seem convinced. “One you have to deal with because of me.”

“One that isn’t your fault,” I correct pointedly.

Both his hands unconsciously run up and down my ribcage now, causing me to shudder once again, for a completely new reasons this time. The sensation is enough to make me close my eyes in pleasure, enough to elicit a tingly feeling in my lower back.

“Hey, Katniss?” Peeta whispers after a soothing stretch of silence.

I know something’s on his mind when he starts a sentence like that. “What?”

“Do you trust me?” He asks in all earnestness.

My heart practically breaks in my chest, as I catch that horrible forlorn glint in his blue gaze now. “Of course I trust you, Peeta,” I affirm, reaching up sleepily and cupping his cheek. He turns his head and kisses the inside of my palm, his mouth lingering there for a beat.

“Will you lean your head back for me?” He requests, one of his hands moving to my back, the other coming to rub circles on my lower stomach, right below my belly button.

I don’t know why he’s asking and I find the request rather strange, but I do trust him and I want him to believe me—and more than anything, I want him to trust himself—so I do as he asks and tip my head back against the mattress.

I watch curiously as Peeta leans down slowly, first coming to press his lips to the cleft in the center of my chin, moving downwards subtly to kiss the underside of my jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my clammy skin. “I’m so sorry, Katniss.”

His lips travel downwards, to my neck, directly to the place where he tried to kill me. It feels like only a few minutes ago, Peeta was trying to strangle the life out of me, in the exact same spot he’s now ravishing.

“Don’t apologize,” I try to say but the words get caught in my throat as his mouth opens a little, as he applies the sweetest pressure against my throat with every ounce of care in his body.

His thumbs massage the sides of my hips, the bare skin beneath my shirt. “Don’t worry about me,” he whispers as he presses another kiss, a wet, openmouthed kiss, closer to the side of my neck now. “Just relax, Katniss. I’m right here.”

I let my eyes fall shut as he continues to suckle on my sensitive skin, his gentle kisses healing what his hands hurt.

He’s massaging a specifically enjoyable spot, near where my throat becomes my collarbone, when I hear him murmur into my flesh, “I love you, Katniss.”

“I love you too,” I whisper but his mouth moves to my pulse point and I shudder—in pleasure this time—deeply, unable to focus on verbal sentiments at the moment.

Peeta seems to understand this. He doesn’t appear to expect any sort of response to his declaration. Instead his hands trail up my body further and his lips travel back to the underside of my chin once again and I close my eyes again, letting my back roll into the mattress as my husband continues his ministrations.

I absently pet down his wild blonde curls, hoping he already knows I love him. Hoping he can sense it with every touch, every glance, every word.

With every moment that passes us by.

/

Read The Rest On AO3

[yannowhatigiveup]

T.W.A.A: The Eccedentesiast

This is a one shot I started last night and I finished it at around 2 am because I’m an insomniac. Sadly this isn’t the 10k+ word one shot I was talking about (I’m still writing it aaa) but this one is around 4-5k words long so I hope you enjoy. This is rushed, badly written, badly plotted and badly named.

TW: Dark topics such as sexual assault and suicide is mentioned in this piece of writing.

Paris, the City of Love, what a big misconception that was. If anything, Paris should've been labeled as the City of Misery considering the fact it was haunted by a villain who preyed on negative emotions. No one outside of Paris knew though, they were oblivious to the fact hundreds, thousands even millions had died in the city home to the Eiffel Tower, only to be resurrected and tormented with the memories of their death. It was worse for Marinette though, she had watched all the citizens, her beloved citizens, die before her eyes and she was powerless to help them. Their screams of anguish and cries of pain forever ghosted her nightmares. It wasn't just their blood that she drowned in, she was bullied, abused and betrayed in her civilian form by those she trusted the most.

Her classmates. She thought she could trust them but they left her for someone shinier and newer. They all hurt her, destroyed her hard work, verbally and physically bullied her. Nino and Kim, her childhood friends had turned their backs on her too, even joining the others in causing her physical and emotional pain. Alya, her best friend, had become her main abuser. The reporter stabbed the poor bluenette in the back, figuratively. Lila was the one who did it literally. Lila, the sound of the name itself made Marinette sick, after all, the brunette was the one who did this to her. She made her friends turn their backs on her, she made them abuse her and she only watched with fake crocodile tears and a smug smile when no one was looking. And Adrien, he was the worst of all. When Marinette was younger, Adrien was the embodiment of perfection. But now? All she could see was a spineless coward and a predator.

As Chat Noir, he wouldn't participate in the battles, only flirting with her hero persona. He would whine like a toddler when she rejected his advancements. Even when he did join in the battles, he was useless, ignoring anything that Ladybug would tell him and go straight for the kill which never worked. Chat Noir was incompetent and a sexual harasser. As Adrien, however, he was much more. Just two days ago, he had tried to sexually assault the young bluenette. The blonde had underestimated the girl and she managed to get away but nothing could erase her memory of the event.

The ultimatum Lila had delivered to Marinette when she thirteen seemed over-dramatic and seemingly impossible at the time. Yet three years later, she was at the point of no return. Her classmates, her friends, her teachers, the boy she once loved, her partner, her parents. They all left her. Mayor Bourgeois, fearing for his daughter's safety, had sent Chloe to New York with her mother. Luka was on tour with his father so they could build a better relationship. Kagami had a family affair back in Japan that would last for at least a month. She was truly alone. Her parents had fallen victim to Lila's lies and Marinette overheard them discussing about kicking her out. The only one by her side throughout the whole ordeal was Tikki, her beloved kwami. Even Master Fu had to leave her.

Marinette felt shut out by the rest of the world. Sure, Paris adored Ladybug but it felt different. She was fighting battles alone, she stood as the last survivor, the last protector of Paris. She took that title in stride, or that's what the Parisians thought. In reality, she was hiding behind a mask.

The bluenette had suffered endlessly for years, she was ready to break that cycle of torture. Yesterday, she came to the solid conclusion of who Hawkmoth was, who is accomplices were and what his motive was. Gabriel Agreste was the man behind Paris' torment, Nathalie Sancœr was one of his accomplices and so was Lila Rossi. For his motive, he wanted to bring his wife back. Marinette understood the pain he was in but she wouldn't go to such extreme lengths as he did. Many years ago, Marinette made a friend, one of her very best friends who she fell for. But she never told anyone who he was, where he came from or even the fact that she met someone. The reason behind this was the fact she witnessed his murder. That death, of all she witnessed, was the most heartbreaking. Even when all these years have passed, she never truly got over his death. His green eyes always lingered her mind.

The bluenette let out an anguished sigh, she was on the Eiffel Tower, admiring the city's skyline despite all its obvious flaws under close inspection. Though Marinette had drastically mentally changed, she would always put on the same mask, she would always portray herself as a regular school girl. This was the one time she felt a little peace in her chaotic excuse for a life. Her blue eyes stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular when she heard footsteps coming from behind. In her peripheral vision, Marinette could see the figure of Gabriel Agreste slowly approaching. Not wanting anything to happen, she made her knowledge of her appearance known.

"I never expected to see you somewhere so public, Monsieur Agreste" Her voice remained neutral. Gabriel didn't flinch meaning that he had expected her to sense his arrival, it made the young girl slightly unnerved but she refused to show it.

"The Eiffel Tower holds the greatest inspiration, as a designer yourself I'm sure you are aware" Marinette was used to his cold voice by now, she kept her guard up reminding herself that this was Hawkmoth was standing a few feet away.

She hummed, putting the two miraculous users in a deathly silence, until she decided to break it. "You know, you could've just asked" The older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but Marinette never looked in his direction, "It would've saved a lot of bloodshed"

Gabriel managed to catch up with what she was saying. "Are you implying that I am Hawkmoth?" He didn't sound offended or defensive, merely curious.

"I'm not implying anything" She replied curtly, then turning to face him. "I am merely stating a fact"

The miraculous user turned away from her, focusing his gaze on the city's skyline once more. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

The question confused Marinette, surely he would've attacked her or try to get her to remain silent?

He must've noticed her confusion. "Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't say anything"

Marinette turned her full body towards the taller man, she was going to end Hawkmoth's reign as quickly as she could. "I can heal her"

"What?"

"I can heal her" The bluenette repeated. "Emilie"

Gabriel also turned to face her, his usual cold scowl was replaced with a staggered expression. "Y-you can? Even after all I've done as Hawkmoth?"

Her head twisted back to portrait that was Paris. "To end it all, yes I will"

"Then please, follow me and I promise I will give you my miraculous as well as Mayura's. Just, heal my wife please" His tone changed from intrigued to pleading, Marinette could see that he meant every word.

"Oh don't worry... I will"

~~~

"I did it!" Tim's voice echoed in the Batcave.

"Did what replacement?"

"I found Hawkmoth's identity!"

Around three months ago, Wonder Woman had noticed Green Lantern trying to delete a video. She stopped him before he successfully did the task and watched the video herself, calling a meeting to express her anger about the situation. Most were shaken since they had never seen the Amazonian this livid before. She briefly explained how her mother was once a miraculous user and how powerful these magical jewelry could be. Aqua Man also shared his concerns, revealing that the fall of Atlantis was due to the miraculous. They knew the logical decision was to work on this from outside of Paris, the villain preyed on negative emotions and they had been ignoring the Parisians' calls for help for four years. Their sudden appearance would definitely trigger the heroes. So in the last month, they had gathered files of nearly every person in Paris as well as all the necessary information about every akuma attack. It was tiring for the Bats but they trudged through it anyway.

Damian had taken a special interest in the spotted-heroine specifically, without the knowledge of any of his family members. She appeared similar to a female friend he had made quite some time ago, the one who had witnessed an assassination attempt on him. He saddened him to no end knowing that the friend he loved thought he was dead. The green-eyed boy became one hundred percent convinced that this hero was his friend.

One day, Dick had caught him in the Batcave observing a recently taken image of the Ladybug heroine. His older brother thought that Damian was crushing on the lady and began to tease him as others entered the cave.

"Tt, that's not true" the green-eyed boy retaliated.

"If you don't have a crush on Ladybug then why are you staring at an image of her?" Dick added more information necessary so that his younger brothers could join in on teasing his youngest brother.

The Robin vigilante sighed and brought everyone's attention to the screen. "See that?"

"All I see is this little lady Demon Spawn" Jason's smirk was quickly gone when he noticed Damian's serious expression.

"She's alone" he stated simply and before anyone could get a word in, her explained further. "There is usually a team with her"

Everyone seemed to lean closer to the screen.

"She's fighting alone. Her 'partner' doesn't participate in the battles anymore, he stays on the sidelines, observing" He let the others catch up to what he was saying. "The attacks have been lasting a lot longer than usual, Ladybug leads a super hero team correct? Then why is she fighting alone this time."

"They could have all been killed... We have to go to Paris to help the poor girl" Dick turned to Bruce. "Who knows how much longer she'll last alone fighting a psycho butterfly man!"

Bruce's fatherly instincts were screaming at him from merely looking at the photo. "I'll announce to the League that we'll be joining the fight in Paris"

~~~

Gabriel lead Marinette to his office, Nathalie wearily watching. Just as he was about to open the double doors, his assistant collapsed in uncontrollable coughing. Marinette was much faster than the older man so she got to the woman first. The bluenette carefully put Nathalie down on one of the chairs available while putting her hand on where she thought the assistant would where the peacock brooch. The blue-eyed girl could sense the broken miraculous' energy trapped in the woman so she did the only reasonable thing she could at that moment, she extracted the corrupted magic, healing Nathalie almost instantly. Marinette ignored Gabriel's relieved expression and gestured for him to lead her to Emilie.

"When this is over, I wish to have a restraining order against your son"

"May I ask why?"

"..."

"...I understand, I'll make sure to tell Nathalie"

The older man stopped before a painting of his wife, his fingers reached for the painted shapes and pressed on them, revealing an elevator to which he went down in. Following his motion, Marinette placed her hand on the painting and allowed herself to descend down the mansion. It lead her to a repository with a catwalk which lead to a circular platform covered in luscious greenery. In the middle on the platform was a class-covered cryogenic pod which the sleeping body of Emilie Agreste lay. The bluenette carefully made her way to the glass casket, placing her hand on the transparent material when she finally reached her destination. Focusing all her energy, a red light erupted from her finger tips and it soaked into Emilie's skin. Gabriel opened the pod, carefully watching his wife as Marinette took a step back. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open.

"G-Gabriel, what happened?"

The man didn't reply, he simply hugged the woman of his dreams before turning the the young girl.

"I... Thank you Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, I can give you the miraculous now if-"

"Ladybug will be at the Eiffel Tower soon, I suggest you give the miraculous to her then"

Gabriel nodded and thanked the girl once more as she left. Before she reached the lift that would lead her back up to Gabriel's office, Marinette turned to face the newly reunited couple.

"Enjoy the happiness in your life, Monsieur Agreste, you never know when it may end"

She then turned to leave, not wanting to here what her former idol had to say. When she reached the main floor of the Agreste Mansion, Marinette was greeted by Nathalie. The bluenette acknowledged the assistant with a nod, meaning that Emilie was awake. The assistant let out a sigh of relief and rushed to Adrien's room, not wanting to be around the blonde boy, Marinette promptly left. Once out of the premises of the mansion, she transformed and waited for Gabriel to return the miraculous. What she didn't realise was that the Justice League would also be coming to pay her a visit.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the miraculous to be handed back to her but the bluenette was patient. She waited four years for this moment, but she had to share the moment alone. It was bittersweet. Soon enough Gabriel arivied, hastily giving Ladybug both the brooches with apologetic eyes and leaving without a word. The spotted heroine presumed that he wanted to get back to his wife and son, she couldn't blame him. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo teary-eyed, she was going to put both miraculous in her weapon before returning them in the miracle box but she stopped when she heard multiple figures approaching where she was standing.

~~~

Batman and his sons were the ones to go to Paris and alert Ladybug of their findings. The five men found themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower, Tim found out that was were the heroes would return to after their patrol.

"We must tell Ladybug right away" Batman pulled out his grappling hook and flung himself to one of the higher levels, all but Robin followed suit.

The vigilante had a feeling to remain on a lower level. He wanted to be reunited with his long lost friend but he couldn't find the words. Simply, he used his grappling hook to bring him onto one of the beams, low enough so he couldn't be seen but high enough to hear any conversation.

"Greetings, Ladybug" His father's voice echoed through the quiet building.

"Monsieur Batman? Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded almost exactly as he remembered, of course it sounded deeper and more matured but it had a more desolated edge to it.

~~~

"We apologize for not intervening earlier but we didn't know how well we needed to control our emotions" Red Hood watched as Nightwing brushed a hand through his hair nervously.

"But we can help now!" Red Robin's excited voice came out of nowhere, Ladybug looked at the vigilante in surprise. "We found out Hawkmoth's identity so we can finish this once and-"

Ladybug put a single hand up, a small smile on her face, silencing Red Robin's rambling. "That's very considerate of you, all of you" Her gaze landed on each vigilante one at a time. "But I... have things sorted" She pulled out two brooches from behind her back to show the men before putting the miraculous in her yo-yo. "I appreciate all you've done, truly I do. But can I ask one for one more favor?"

"Of course, what is it?" Nightwing asked, clearly wanting the spotted heroine to be gleeful once more.

"Could you... help the other heroes to help the Parisians to heal?"

"It's the least we can do" Batman replied. "Will you be there too?"

"I'm afraid not" Ladybug turned around and leaned forward on the banister. "You know how Hawkmoth prays on negative emotions, so I've had to deal with my emotions in an unhealthy manor but now... Hawkmoth is no more. I can be free"

"Wh-"

"Thank you, truly" Ladybug jumped up on to railing, facing the group of vigilantes. Her sad smile faded as she stared at the floor.

They didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before it did. A bright light surrounded the young hero and they were forced to close their eyes. As the light died down, Red Hood saw a small bluenette. She looked so weak, so pretty, so... fragile. It hurt the vigilante's heart seeing someone like this being the sole protector of Paris with no one by her side.

"Hey little lady-"

"I'm sorry Tikki"

The girl looked at all the vigilantes slowly, mouthing a 'thank you' before letting herself lean backwards.

Gravity took the Parisian heroine and she fell.

A small creature holding something shiny stared in horror as its owner fell."MARINETTE!" The small creature's anguished scream seemed to bring the vigilantes back to reality.

~~~

"MARINETTE!"

Robin's head shot up, that name was all too familiar. Suddenly, he took note of a figure falling fast from above, her raven hair flowing in the wind. Without giving a second thought, he bounded down the ledge he was on, landing on one of the platforms and had his arms out ready to catch the fallen angel. The bluenette was close enough for Robin to grab her and he pulled her in so that her feet landed on the platform, her body still looming over the edge of the building. His brother and father landed not far from him, bounding over to help the bluenette but Robin took no notice of their presence.

"Why didn't you just let me f...all" The girl's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition, the air in her lungs escaped from her lips. "...d-Damian?"

The two friends took no notice at how the vigilantes behind Robin stiffened. Her eyes developed a watery sheen as the situation began to really hit her. Tears threatened to spill as her lip quivered. Robin pulled her away from the ledge and she jumped into his arms, she was heavily touch-starved. Much to his family's surprise, he didn't push her away. In fact, he hugged her back. They heard what she said next.

"I... I thought you were dead, Dami"

"...why? What made you do this, Malaki?"

They didn't hear what she said next as her mumbling was muffled in Robin's chest. Nightwing walked up to the two first, kneeling down to be eye level with the girl.

"Hey Sunshine... we don't know what you've been through but we're willing to help you though it okay?" The girl looked at his sincere gaze, her eyes were so round with innocence, Nightwing thought he would melt.

"I... thank you, I'm sorry for worrying you when I... jumped" No one failed to notice when Robin ran his fingers through the bluenette's hair.

"Don't apologize Little Lady" Red Hood walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, sitting next to his older brother. "Hawkbitch forced you to bottle up your emotions, you were just strong for too long."

Marinette looked between the two men, a grateful smile on her face while she wiped the tears of pure happiness running down her cheeks. "Thank you, I- this... this is the nicest I've been treated recently"

"If you don't mind me asking," Batman walked over and Marinette felt slightly intimidated you his presence as well as his tone. The dark knight must have noticed this since he cleared his throat and began talking in a softer manner. "What happened to cause you to go to such extremes? You're obligated to not having to talk about it right away if the subject makes you uncomfortable"

"Well I guess I do have to talk about it eventually..."

Recognising the bluenette's discomfort, Red Robin stepped in. In his palm was the shaken kwami who flew straight for Marinette once the vigilante got close enough. "Since you know Robin's identity, and we already sorta know yours, it's only fair if we tell you who we are, right?" He looked at his two older brothers and then at his adoptive father. "My name's Tim Drake nice to meet you"

Marinette was about to take his offered hand when the vigilante she presumed was Red Hood took it instead, "Jason Todd, Robin's most charming and handsome brother" She giggled at Damian's obvious annoyance.

"Well I'm Richard Grayson, Robin's favourite brother, but you can call me Dick" The vigilante in the suit who comforted her first, introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet all of you"

Batman soon came over as well to aquatint with the young heroine, offering out his hand for a handshake. "Bruce Wayne"

She returned the hand shake and brightly smiled, it blinded nearly all those near. "Thank you, Mr Wayne. Wait..." she turned to face Damian, one of her eyebrows raised. "Wayne?"

"I may have failed to mention that part" To Robin's surprise, Marinette started giggling so he huffed in taken offense.

"Sorry it's just- a girl in my class as been boasting about dating you and about the Wayne Family seeing her as their 'honorary member'. I knew she was lying I just didn't know that I would bump into the people she was lying about"

Bruce hummed. "We'll have to do something about this girl you're talking about. In the meantime, why don't you come back to the hotel with us? You and Damian can catch up" The older man saw the hesitation in her eyes but he also saw the willingness that shine through the most. "If you're living in a bad environment then you do have to escape" His sons nodded along.

"I'll come, can I bring some overnight clothes? It's been a long day..."

"Of course, you go get your belongings and you can meet us at the Grand Paris Hotel"

"I... thank you again" She transformed and headed in the direction of her house, leaving Robin at the mercy of his brothers.

"You like her, Brat" Red Robin spoke up first.

Nightwing pretended to wipe his tears. "Baby Bird's all grown up now"

"That means you can't adopt the little Pixie, don't think I haven't seen the adoption papers"

~~~

When Marinette destransformed on her balcony rooftop, she quickly went inside, packed some clothes as well as some essentials. When she was satisfied with her belongings, she gave a macaron to Tikki before heading downstairs where she was met with two disappointed looking parents.

"Is something wrong?"

"We've decided," Tom began. "We're kicking you out for what you've done to your lovely classmate, Lila"

"We don't recognise the person you've become, Marinette. You are not the daughter we raised" Sabine added

"May I pack my things in the morning?" Marinette inquired, her eyes void of emotion. When her parents nodded, she left the bakery and down to the hotel where Damian was waiting in the lobby. As she approached, he took her bag and intertwined their hands together. She blushed at the contact but leaned into his embrace.

When she entered the hotel room she was greeted by the vigilantes who were now changed and unmasked. The bluenette was welcomed with open arms, she felt the warmth in her heart for the first time since Lila's Tyranny. She briefly explained Lila's lies, what she had done to Marinette and how the bluenette was able to protect Paris. She would've carried on longer if it weren't for the hotel phone ringing. It was the receptionist, saying that someone had asked to see Marinette. Confused, she went down with Damian, Jason followed closely behind since he had grown quite attached to the little fairy. Waiting at the front desk as a woman, Damian and Jason recognised her instantly as Mayura. Damian tried to step in front of his friend but she completely ignored their futile attempts to keep her in reach.

"Ah, Hello Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng"

"Hello Nathalie, we're you the one who asked for me?"

"Yes, I just need to clarify a few things"

"Go ahead"

"You're request for the restraining order has been fulfilled" the bluenette nodded, waiting for Gabriel's assistant to continue. "May I ask what did he do to make you request for it?"

The two notices how Marinette stiffened. She contemplated before sighing. "Attempted sexual assault. If you look at the camera footage outside of the Louvre from two days ago, seven pm onwards, you'll see your evidence." Marinette turned away from Nathalie and walked back to Damian who, once in range, pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll never let him near you again, Angel"

~~~

The next day, Bruce had shown up with Marinette at her parents' bakery. Upon hearing about the young bluenette being kicked out, he had asked for her permission for him to be her Guardian until she was old enough to live in her own. Marinette accepted his offer. When they had entered the building, her parents had greeted their customers kindly before recognising Marinette. Bruce turned to the young girl next to him and smiled.

"You go pack your things I'll deal with this" She smiled and bounded upstairs, leaving Bruce to talk with the bakery's owners.

"Hello Sir, how may we help you?" Sabine began, wanting to know who this man was.

"I've come to gain guardianship of your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng"

"Why should we give you guardianship?" Tom asked.

"I'm sure you know the liability for child neglect, Mr Dupain" With his words, both adults seemed to turn white. "I will file the necessary and submit it with the court, I'm sure you'll be willing to give your approval"

Both Marinette and the mystery man left, true they were glad that their mistake of a daughter had gone but they wondered who she had gone with.

~~~

Later that afternoon was a charity event which the Waynes were supposed to attend as they were invited by the mayor himself, the plus side was that the Akuma class would also be attending and they had no clue the Wayne Family would be there.

"...And finally I'd like to thank the Wayne Family for joining us this evening" Mayor Bourgeois finished his speech and all heads turned to the table the Waynes and Marinette were sitting on. As his speech was over, a teenage girl with glass and a very pale brunette came over to the table.

"Hello Mr Wayne, My name's Alya and I'm your honorary daughter's best friend and I was hoping-"

"Marinette" Bruce began, cutting off the aspiring reporter. The Alya girl only then seemed to notice that the bluenette was sitting at the table. "Is this girl you're friend?"

The bluenette took one hard look at Alya before shaking her head, "No"

"Marislut what th-"

"It would be appreciated if you did not talk about my honorary daughter and future daughter-in-law on that manner" Both Damian and Marinette turned red, one much more than the other. "In fact we should be leaving" Bruce and the rest of the family got up. "Miss Rossi, I will not tolerate your lies. You will receive a lawsuit for defamation and slander. Have a good evening" They left, leaving a reporter, a liar and a class speechless.

When they reached the hotel room they finished packing up, they would be leaving that night. Marinette made a few phone calls, telling her friends that she would be moving to Gotham. They had their belongs taken to the limo downstairs and had a few snacks before making their way down. In the lobby were many different people around the bluenette's age, she recognised them as her classmates and continued walking beside Damian until Alex came over.

"Marinette... we're sorry. We understand that you probably won't forgive apps but we wrote you letters anyway" the skater girl gave Marinette a pile of enveloped letters, ones she put in her bag straight away.

"Thank you for your apologies but I don't think I can forgive you just yet, goodbye Alix" the bluenette got in the limo and let out a breath she knew she was holding.

Her eyes glanced out the tinted window, she smiled knowing that she was leaving Paris for a better life. A better life with a friends, a better life with a new family. A better life with Damian.

~Bonus~

The harsh blizzard outside was definitely being felt from inside the manor, leaving a cold and tired Marinette on the couch. Damian, noticing his girlfriend's state, went to grab a blanket to cover both Marinette and himself. She snuggled into the green-eyed boy, taking all the warmth she could get, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Damian too felt drowsy so soon followed his girlfriend into dreamland.

Jason came in a few moments later to find the sleeping couple, he was then reminded by how tired he was so he went on the couch and leaned his back against his youngest brother, himself too falling victim to slumber.

The next person to walk in was Dick, he had just finished training so he was exhausted. But he couldn't help to coo when he came across the scene in front of him. The eldest son then got on the sofa and carefully leaned against Marinette, similar to what Jason had done with Damian. It didn't take long for him to join them in dozing off.

Tim arrived with a big cup of freshly made coffee, one which he was about to drink until he noticed his siblings all curled up on the couch sleeping. The co-CEO went back to the kitchen, left his cup of coffee then went to grab a blanket to join his family. Wrapping himself in a blanket burrito, Tim placed himself on the floor pressed up against sofa.

When Bruce returned home safely, he went to the main living room to see his children, and his future in-law who was basically his own by now, sleeping soundly with the TV still running. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television off and grabbed his phone to take a picture. He planned on printing it out and having it framed in his study. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, taking a book to read. If there was peace in the house, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

[bygosscarmine]

W: Worlds Apart - Volume 3: Worlds Aligned

Kang Chul X Oh Yeon Joo - Fix-It Fic (T)

FINAL VOLUME FOLKS

but who can say how long of a volume

In today’s installment, a ring blazes a trail into a painful encounter, and a half-forgotten face cuts through a cycle of nightmares. 

Chapter 63 - A New Form of Bad Dream (1014 words) 

It was easiest to go about her daily life as if nothing had happened. Soo Bong suspected the truth, and her mother quietly worried, but she tackled the issues with her father's contract renegotiations as a distraction, and continued rebuilding her reputation at work. The only one to comment on her wedding band was Seok Bum, who approached it with his usual finesse by saying, "Nice ring! Who's the lucky guy?" then laughing, so she didn't have to respond.

MK, a much keener observer, had called her out to a dinner with students when she saw it. She made no comment at the time, but did make a point of asking Yeon Joo if she'd be free for coffee that weekend.

"No, I'm overseeing the residents both nights," said Yeon Joo, regretfully.

"Oh, they're coming to trust you again," said MK with an ironic approval. "They feel you can be trusted to not crack despite the very worst! How nice."

Myung Se University had the country's only major cardiothoracic department of medical studies, and therefore Myung Se Hospital had the country's largest thoracic surgery staff, and hosted most of the residencies in the field. In other hospitals, a thoracic surgeon might never have to be on call, because the Myung Se ER received the emergency dispatches involving lung and pulmonary issues. In case of emergency surgeries, this might follow trauma care, or sometimes involve both. As an overseeing doctor, Yeon Joo was essentially responsible for all the emergency thoracic patients in Seoul (and a few life-flighted in from other cities). One could only hope for few stabbings and car accidents over the weekend to deal with, because unlike Seok Bum, she was not comfortable napping while interns handled stabilizing and surgery on their own.

Saturday afternoon was quiet for their department, if not for the ER itself. Yeon Joo had not scheduled to do any surgeries over the weekend because of her on-call status, and found herself somewhat at loose ends. After overseeing a routine in-patient procedure with one of the interns, she went to wash her hands, attention toward the raised voice at the nurse's station--apparently some uproarious story was being told. She felt something slip with the soapy pressure. As she tried to catch her ring from falling into the sink, she knocked to the floor instead where it went rolling down the hallway. She chased it, heart in her throat, and snatched it up finally in her still-dripping figures. When she stood up straight again, she realized she was not in Myung Se anymore.

Across from her, Kang Chul took a phone call in the lobby of his television station, which she knew only from the manhwa pages. "You're late," he said. After a heart-crashing moment, she realized he was saying this to whoever he had on the line.

As she stared, he cocked his head, returning her look quizzically.

Unable to think about what was happening, she quickly turned on her heel and rushed into a nearby hallway. Either her intent or having stepped out of Chul's line of sight transported her: she was standing in Myung Se again, just facing the wrong direction in the hall.

She swallowed, and put the ring in her pocket.

I must have lost a little weight,she thought. When she glanced into the glass of her office door, her dimly reflected face seemed to agree with this.

It wasn't until she sat down in her office again that her shock faded enough she finally felt the pain of that blank look.

He's forgotten me. However awful it was to have accepted that they were going to do this, there was something peculiarly hurtful about coming face to face with him that way. He was still living in his world, in 3-D, flesh and blood--but he was not the man who had known her.

While teasing Uncle about being late to his own meeting, Kang Chul noticed a woman staring at him in the lobby. She was dressed in scrubs, standing out from the crowd of casually dressed crew or impressively suited producers passing through the station's lobby at lunch time. Though he was used to being stared at, he was definitely not used to being the object of what appeared to be horror. She looked at him with shock, unhappy for some reason.

It was only when she turned to go that it occurred to him she was vaguely familiar. This niggled at him--he had an excellent memory, especially for faces. If she had been part of his recent hospital care, he was sure he would know who she was. But perhaps not if she had been someone in the emergency room, or surgery, right after the attack.

He shelved the query in the back of his mind to be worked on by his subconscious. The top brass of W were meeting about the new interview show they were formulating. So Hee came alongside him as he walked to the conference room, and looked quizzical.

"Something bothering you?"

As always, her light tone didn't totally hide her concern for him.

"I didn't bring a pen to take notes in the meeting," he said, and she laughed. He never took notes. That's what he had her for.

He held the door for her to enter before him, and forgot all about the woman.

It was only later that he woke, suddenly, from one of the ugly dreams that now punctuated his sleep. He seemed to have developed a few fresh nightmares after being stabbed nearly to death--now it wasn't always drowning or finding his dead family.

Tonight, though, his subconscious had turned up results.

That had been the woman who had opened his lung, and gotten him an ambulance. He didn't actually remember her face, but he was sure it had to be her. The plum-colored scrubs, and her stature were definitely the same.

Why had she been looking like that? Had she been also trying to kill him, after all?

Or was she that determined to not be found?

[daihell]

No One Else to Blame Chapter 7

Dorian wasn’t sure how or even when he had fallen so completely for the Inquisitor. He knew it was incredibly foolish, particularly with the war raging around them, but none of that seemed to matter when he studied Elden's profile or contemplated the warmth of their fingers laced together. Dorian knew this couldn't last but he never could have foreseen just how spectacularly it would all go wrong. Or that he would be the one left holding the knife. AO3 Read More

Dorian couldn’t help but feel uneasy as they approached the cave. It was a ridiculous sentiment, he’d only been captive for a short while before reinforcements had arrived, it hadn’t been particularly traumatic. Then again, this was where this nightmare had begun. He’d lost time here, nearly an entire day unaccounted for, and he couldn’t help but fear what they might discover.

Still, finding nothing would by far be the worse outcome. Dorian prayed that they’d find the poison or, even better, the antidote so this entire business could be wrapped up and put behind them, but he knew none of them were that lucky, himself in particular.

The Iron Bull waited outside with the horses as the rest of them trekked through the snow and into the cave. It was a grim task, but Blackwall and Cassandra began kicking corpses over and searching them while Vivienne, Elden, and Dorian continued on inside. The Inquisitor knelt by the next body they came across and began searching as well.

They left quite the body count in their wake wherever they went, but still Elden treated the fallen reverently, even these Venatori. He’d expressed on more than one occasion regret at the loss of life and a desire to bury the fallen, although it was rarely possible, now especially. Dorian knew this had to be difficult for him. He wanted to kneel beside him, place a hand on his shoulder, but he was afraid to get too close, afraid to see Elden flinch like that again.

Elden had learned firsthand how his touch could burn, it was only right he pulled away. He should be angry, he should blame Dorian for all of this and push him away if only to protect himself. But of course he wouldn’t. Elden was too kind, too understanding, and Dorian hated how easily he had hurt him.

Truth be told, he’d been avoiding Elden since, keeping out of reach and avoiding eye contact. It was childish perhaps, but every time he saw the sadness there, Dorian wanted nothing more than to pull him close and he couldn’t. He didn’t have the right.

Dwelling was getting him nowhere so instead Dorian continued deeper in. In the back, he found the place they had left him on the hard ground when he’d been held prisoner, charred rope still lying there where it had fallen as well as a few more bodies. He supposed he should actually assist with the search. He flipped the nearest body over, shuffling around until he found something inside the man’s coat. When he pulled it out and saw the dagger in his hand, however, he recoiled, dropping it to the ground as if it had burned him, backing away until he hit the wall, breathing hard.

“Dorian?”

He heard Elden’s voice, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of that blade. He recognized it, similar to the one he’d used to-- to stab Elden, but this one was different, huge gemstone eyes boring into him from the engraved skull. Somehow, they burned into him and he covered his eyes, but the pain only increased. He thought he might be yelling as he doubled over, but he couldn’t tell, his ears ringing, drowning out all else as his skull throbbed.

It felt like there was something lurking at the edges of his mind and suddenly it all flooded in, a memory locked away of agony and horror. There were faces in the darkness, grinning and terrible, that watched, that commanded and taunted. These had to be the true leaders of this group. He knew they had to be human, but they were distorted by pain and perception and he couldn’t help but recoil from them as if they were demons or something worse.

Dorian could feel ropes burning his wrist as if he was being restrained even now, and there was that knife in the hand of one of those mages. The blade sliced down his arm, blood flowing onto the floor, so much blood, the room smelling metallic with it, and Dorian wretched at the memory, thankful that his stomach was practically empty anyway. Finally his mind cleared and the pain and ringing finally receded. He just stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily and leaning against the cold stone.

“Dorian?” Elden repeated, close at his side. “Are you all right?”

“You’re remembering, aren’t you?” Vivienne asked. “Where were you taken? Where did the ritual happen?”

“A cave?” Dorian said doubtfully, trying to remember, wanting to focus on those flashes of memory but afraid of falling back into them again. The fact that it was in a cave was much too vague to be particularly helpful. He needed to see something, anything, that could give him a clue, but then there was another flash of agony as that knife flayed his stomach and he reeled back, nearly falling to the ground, back in the blessed present.

“Dorian!”

Elden caught him and steadied him as he frantically clawed at his shirt, pulling it up, but he was whole, his stomach unscarred. Had they tortured then healed him to hide the evidence? That was a lot of work to go to. Then again, all this was to assassinate the Inquisitor so perhaps it made sense. In retrospect they all really should have known that Dorian’s rescue was all too easy, his injuries too superficial. Of course there had to be others, all this just a setup to cause them to write this entire thing off as attempted ransom and nothing more.

“I’m fine,” Dorian said after he took a deep breath, composing himself as best as he could as he pushed away from Elden and stood up straight. He tried not to notice the disappointment on Elden’s face. “There were others. I was taken-- somewhere, another cave, bigger. I remember seeing mountains out of the mouth of the cave.” It was frustrating how difficult it was to remember any details. Then again, he’d been a tad preoccupied at the time so the fact that he had anything at all to go on was probably a blessing.

“Doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Blackwall muttered.

Dorian wasn’t exactly sure when he and Cassandra had joined them but he shot a glare in Blackwall’s direction before he continued. “There were definitely mages. Several. As well as some sort of ritual circle.”

“What kind?” Vivienne asked.

“If I knew, I would have said as much,” Dorian snapped, regretting it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He could still feel the fear clawing at him, could still remember what it felt like to be sliced into again and again, but it wouldn’t do to lash out at allies. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I apologize. I can’t recall the details. There was definitely blood magic involved but that’s all I’ve got.”

“Unfortunate, but it’s a start,” Cassandra said, placing a hand on his shoulder which surprised him.

“Are we not going to address the possibility that that was all an act and he’s leading us into a trap?” Blackwall asked, looking skeptical.

“Blackwall, please,” Elden said, but Dorian couldn’t exactly blame the man for being suspicious.

“I’m not sure it matters at this point,” Cassandra said, sending a concerned glance towards Elden. “We’ve finished searching here, let’s get going.”

“Dorian?” Elden was still at his side, so close but not wanting to touch without permission.

“I’m fine,” Dorian said, waving a hand dismissively. His touch was soothing and a part of him wanted to lean into him again, let Elden hold him, support him, but he couldn’t do that now. He couldn’t demand any more from him.

Suddenly Dorian was feeling incredibly claustrophobic here in this small cave with all these people crowding around. He could still hear the taunting voices of those Venatori as they pressed in around him, even if he couldn’t tell what they were saying. He brushed past Elden, heading for the exit, needing to be out in the open so he could breathe again.

As he stepped outside, for once he didn’t mind the freezing wind as it whipped past him. It allowed him to focus on the moment, on his face and ears burning with cold, and push away the memory of blood and pain. Recent events had made him wary of cliff edges, so he stayed on the path, looking out over the valley between mountain peaks and just tried to calm his pounding heart. Bull was nearby with the horses watching, but Dorian ignored him. He stood there with his eyes closed for a long moment, just trying to feel and not think and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Cassandra’s voice beside him.

“I owe you an apology.”

“Oh?” he asked, unable to keep his irritableness out of his voice. “Whatever for?”

It wasn’t directed at her, exactly, and he felt guilty for taking this all out on her. It was just-- everything, really. He felt helpless, being used and manipulated to hurt the Inquisitor, the last person Dorian had ever wanted to harm, the one person he would give his life to protect. Seeing Elden flinch away, reminding him of how Dorian had betrayed him so deeply. And now he could barely trust his own mind. He couldn’t wait to find those responsible so he could tear them apart. Unless, of course, they still held power over him in which case things could go very badly indeed.

“I didn’t even give you a chance to prove yourself,” she explained and thankfully she didn’t seem offended by his tone. “I owed you that at the very least, after everything you’ve done for the Inquisition.”

“It’s fine, Cassandra,” he said with a weary sigh. “I ended up doing exactly what all the rumors said I would. I don’t blame you for assuming the worst. The knife was literally in my hand, after all. What were you supposed to think?”

“Still,” she insisted. “I apologize for my brashness, for throwing out whatever trust you’d managed to build thus far.”

“That’s very generous of you,” he said. As much as he appreciated her words, he knew all of this would take time. On both sides. And there were more pressing things to attend to at the moment. “Better not let your guard down just yet. Not until this is over. I could still pose a threat.”

She nodded and they both understood the implication. Elden was the priority. If Dorian was forced to turn on them, it would be up to the others to make sure the Inquisitor was safe. Glancing up, Dorian could see Elden nearby watching apprehensively. It was obvious he wanted to approach but was unsure if he would be welcome.

The space was appreciated, but he hated this entire situation. And he hated that Elden was still being so thoughtful and generous. They were both here, hurting and in need of any sort of support, but instead it felt like there was a chasm opening up between them. And it was Dorian’s fault. There was nothing he could say, no way he could make this all right, so instead he turned and began trudging through the snow as they all headed out.

-

They were to meet Leliana’s scouts next so once they reached the designated location they set up camp and waited. Dorian pulled out his notebook and closed his eyes, trying to recall that view out the mouth of the cave in his memory. It was difficult, having it interspersed with flashes of agony, but he just tried to focus, drawing the mountains as best he could.

He was only half paying attention, but when the scouts arrived, he overheard them relaying the most likely locations that the Venatori could be held up. They kept close watch on large sections of the mountain range to ensure safe passage, so that at least narrowed down the possibilities. Now they’d have to rely on chance more than anything, picking a direction and just hoping they got lucky and stumbled across a hideout.

Dorian couldn’t help but glance over at Elden who was standing by himself watching the gentle snowfall. He was hunched slightly, arms around himself and Dorian wished he wasn’t turned away so he could see his face properly. He didn’t look cold, perhaps he was in pain? Vivienne approached him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to get his attention so she could pass him a vial to drink from.

Dorian wanted to just damn it all and go to Elden as well, wrap his arms around him and just hold him tight, reassure him, do anything he could to ease the pain just as Elden had done for him so many times. But he couldn’t. He kept remembering how Elden had flinched away, on the warm blood on his hands, and, honestly, focusing on those memories of torture somehow felt less painful. So, he looked back down at his notebook and continued to sketch.

-

By the time they had a route planned out, it was growing dark so they settled in for the night. There would be no sleeping anytime soon for Dorian so he sat with his legs drawn up close, staring moodily into the fire, grateful that the others had either retired for the night or were off keeping watch. He never did well when left alone with his thoughts, so of course they strayed to Elden as they so often did these days.

Dorian had been the one cut open in those reawakened memories, but all throughout had been a sense of urgency and a great concern for Elden’s safety. They’d been trying to get him to harm Elden (trying and ultimately succeeding he reminded himself) so he supposed it was warranted. There had been so much blood in his memories, but as he stared down at his hands, it was Elden’s blood that came to mind, dripping down and staining his robes, his skin, and he could still hear the quiet sound he’d drawn from Elden, the way he’d held onto him so tightly as he slumped to the ground. He wrenched his eyes away and looked back into the embers in the fire.

It was looking less and less likely that they would find the antidote in time. What were they supposed to do then? Just watch as Elden withered away in front of them? Dorian would likely be haunted by what he had done, blood magic or no, for the rest of his life. If it actually led to Elden’s death, what was he supposed to do then? How was he supposed to live with that, knowing that he himself had destroyed someone he respected and cared so deeply for? How had any of this happened?

He nearly jumped when footsteps brought him back to the present, but for once he was grateful for the interruption. Unfortunately it turned out to be Elden. He sat close beside him, too close, and Dorian resisted the urge to move away. True, distance between them was the last thing he wanted right now, but there was still so much hurt there. Would he ever stop feeling like a threat to Elden?

“The stars look nice,” Elden said and Dorian barked out a short, bitter laugh. He couldn’t help himself. It was just so like Elden to want to talk about stars when everything was falling apart around them.

“That’s it, then?” he asked. “That’s all you have to say?”

“No, but I didn’t think you wanted to talk about anything else,” Elden said, unphased by his reaction.

“What exactly is there that hasn’t already been said?”

“The avalanche-- I thought I’d lost you then. I don’t want to lose you again after everything. Please don’t push me away like this,” Elden said, sounding so heartbroken as he tentatively placed his hand over Dorian’s where it rested on the ground between them. His movements were so hesitant, giving Dorian plenty of time to pull away. He should have, but now that he had that contact he was reminded of just how desperately he’d missed it

He studied their hands clasped together for a long moment. Should he weigh the risks? Determine if they were stronger together or apart, even if it put one of them at risk? Would it still be worth it if they destroyed each other in the end? But perhaps none of that truly mattered. Neither of them could simply stop caring. And if this was it, if Elden didn’t live out the week, Dorian would hate himself for pushing him away when all he wanted to do was pull him close and do whatever he could to make him smile. He sighed heavily before bringing Elden’s hand to his lips briefly.

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do,” Dorian said, feeling so tired.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I want you to be by my side,” Elden said earnestly.

“Until I actually manage to kill you or the poison succeeds, right?” Dorian said grimly, wishing he hadn’t spoken at all. Why did he have to make this so difficult? And why was Elden still making it so easy?

“Stop blaming yourself,” Elden said. “Whatever happens, this wasn’t your fault. You have to believe that.”

Dorian had nothing to say to that that wouldn’t end in an argument and he was just so tired. “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “All I’ve done lately is hurt you. And I’m selfish enough to still want to be here with you. A better man would probably stay away.”

“Then what does that make me?” Elden asked, bumping his shoulder lightly with a sad smile. “I must be far worse because I’m selfish enough to want this as well. I hate seeing you put yourself through this though. I just-- I don’t want to see you go through this alone. And, frankly, I don’t want to go through it alone either.”

Dorian leaned into him and Elden immediately wrapped his arms around him. Right now, Dorian wanted nothing more than to feel Elden, his warmth and his heartbeat as he enveloped him. It eased the agony brought on by those reawakened memories as well as reassure him that Elden was here, still alive and with him. Perhaps not safe for the moment, not while poison ran in his veins, but at least he was alive in this moment. That meant there was hope. And Dorian would do whatever he could to make sure Elden got through this.

Next -->

[emiliaboone]

OC Interview

Thanks for tagging me, @lilly-white!! 

This will be an interview with Solara (“Sunday”)! This is exciting!

1. What was your last birthday like?

As good as it could be, I suppose. I worked all day. As usual. I didn’t get to see my friends for more than twenty minutes, and by the time I got home, it was nearly bedtime. Mamma and Nox gave me a little cake, but since it’s just the three of us, putting nineteen candles on it would have been a little bit odd. So we ate it between the three of us, with an extra cup of hot chocolate for the night. At work, there’s always a mini celebration where the other servants sing to you, and they put a candle in the gelato they served for the sweet after dinner, but there wasn’t much fanfare. The princess did give me a little party for me with the other nursemaids, though. She gave me one of her books for me to take home, and new earphones for my music player, since I’d mentioned mine were broken. I don’t know how she got her hands on those. Marcello, Eva, Mamma, and Nox gave me presents, too, of course, but since we were rushed and it was so late, there wasn’t much fanfare. It was another day, just with an extra cake and a couple of candles. Aurora made it really special, though.

2. Who do you trust most in the world?

Marcello. If I didn’t have him anymore...I don’t know what I would do. Sure he makes some weird decisions sometimes, but I always know where his heart is. He’s the best person I know.

3. What’s your relationship with your parents like?

Never knew my father. Pretty shit human, since he left my mamma...twice! The only gifts we ever got from him was a music player for me and an old sword for Nox. No-one sword fights anymore. Nox taught himself, but it’s mostly useless in the real world.

Mamma’s amazing, though. She’s a bit too trusting of the royal family, which doesn’t make any sense to me, but she loves me probably more than she should, I’m not always the most agreeable person. She’s always there fore me. She’s the only one who knows how I feel about Marcello, how I really feel, I mean. She’s the best.

4. Are you religious or spiritual?

I’m honestly not sure. Mamma is, and I want to be. I believe in the gods and everything, I do. But recently...I don’t know. After everything that’s happened, it’s hard to believe that the gods are real. Nox has always been a cynic, and I’ve always thought that was weird. But now I’m starting to wonder if maybe he was right. 

5. What’s your worst childhood memory?

When Marcello’s pappa died. That sounds weird, since it’s not my memory. But I was there. Eva and I both were, holding Marcello as he cried. We were only ten. But the worst thing about It though wasn’t his pappa actually dying, I just can’t get over how I felt. I was sad, sure. But part of me was....relieved? I wasn’t the only one without a father anymore and I didn’t feel so alone. I sound so selfish just admitting it, gods. I think that’s what I’m most guilty about it. And just thinking about it makes me feel so horrible...

6. How do you react to being sick or hurt?

I hate feeling like a victim, or like people are fussing over me. But at the same time, I’ll never pass up an excuse to stay home from work. So I’ll usually stay home and recover like a normal person, but then the minute anyone starts fussing, I get really argumentative. I’m kind of the worst person that way.

7. How do you react to a loved one being sick or hurt?

I don’t react. That scares me as much as it scares everyone else, but I tend to go completely numb, I feel nothing. I tend to shut down completely, won’t talk to anyone or anything like that until they get better. I think it’s mostly that I’m just so scared for them my body just doesn’t know how to handle it. 

8. Picture the most comforting setting ever. What’s the environment like?

My hideout in the rose bushes by the side of the palace. I can’t see anyone, they can’t see me, and I can sit, smelling the flowers, listening to the sound of nature, reading whatever calms me down, and no-one can see me. It’s the most relaxing thing in the world.

9. Do you have any nervous tics?

Sure. I don’t actually react to being nervous or anxious well, and I tart breathing really heavily and I’ll touch my face or my hair cos I don’t know what to do with my hands. If I’m really upset I’ll dig my nails into my palms.

10. Do you have any tells when you’re lying?

I don’t lie. I’m pretty brutally honest. So when I do lie, I get away with it, because people know I don’t lie. Even when I do lie I cover it up with truth. I’m excellent at it. But I do withhold the truth. That’s where I get into trouble, especially if I share a secret with someone. I get really awkward in my body language, and I can’t stop looking at them like I’ve got a secret. I should not keep secrets, especially when I am so good at lying, but no matter how much I tell myself that, it doesn’t really change much.

11. What’s the meaning of life?

Freedom, I think. I think that if the gods made us, they wouldn’t want us to be shoved into boxes and never allowed to leave them for the rest of our lives. And if the gods don’t exist, and we’re just scientific accidents, then those boxes are arbitrary anyway. I think life its about having a choice in what we do. We’re ourselves, why should we let someone else define what that means?

12. Describe a mentor figure in your life.

Mamma--She’s who I would want to be if I were generally a nicer person. I don’t know how she’s so good to everyone. I wish I could be as genuinely good as she is. She tries to help me, and I do look up to her as a mentor, but I’m difficult, so that doesn’t mean that I necessarily listen to her advice.

13. Have you ever been in love?

Yes. I’m so incredibly in love with Marcello, but don’t tell him. I haven’t even told him, yet. I don’t know how. Or even if he feels the same way. 

14. Have you had your heart broken?

No, Marcello’s my first real relationship, besides those couple of people I kissed when I was younger. But I’ve seen what it does to people, what it does to Eva. I hate seeing my best friend like that, I never want to feel that way. Ever. 

15. Are you brave or a coward?

I like to think I’m brave. But I’m pretty sure I’m actually a coward. But I’ll never admit that, so...brave. Definitely brave. 

16. Is your life going according to plan? If not, how has it strayed?

Yep. Definitely exactly as planned. And that’s the problem. I knew what my life was going to be the minute I was old enough to think. And it hasn’t strayed. I wish it would, I’m so BORED.

17. Have you ever broken a law?

Ha! Hell yeah! I’ve snuck out of my house like 50 times, and broken curfew twice as many times! I know it’s not that big of a deal law, but whatever. Oh! technically I committed treason by going to that Society a few months back. But the leader was a dick so I’m pretty sure I’m in no danger of ver going back there. 

18. Describe a scary event you’ve been a part of.

The attack on my home was pretty fucking scary. Especially since my mother was killed, my brother was taken from me, and I was stabbed in the chest. Yeah that was....not fun. I still don’t really know why they did it.

19. What’s your greatest fear?

Not being able to choose my own life, staying on this path forever I know that one day I’ll probably marry Marcello, but will I get to leave the palace? Will I do anything else? I’m terrified of never getting out of where I am, of not havig a choice in what I want to do. 

Also chickens. 

20. (Getting meta here) If you could meet whoever created you, what would you ask them?

WHY THE FUCK DO YOU KEEP HURTING PEOPLE I LOVE??

21. Have you ever been drunk?

Not really, my work schedule means I’ve hardly had a day off in 5 years, at least not in a way I could get drunk. I’ve been tipsy more times than I can count, though. 

22. Are you calm under pressure?

Ha! You’re joking, right? Hell, no!

23. What would your happily ever after look like?

A house out in the country with Marcello, taking our time with what we wanted to do. I’d play music, he’d probably still fish, so I guess we’d need to live near the coast, but I don’t mind. I want to live for me, for us. Eva would live near us too and I’d be able to visit Nox and Mamma whenever I wanted. But I’d be free.

24. Do you often have nightmares?

After the attack on my house, I have nightmares a lot. I can’t get that picture out of my head......

25. What’s your greatest talent?

The queen seems to think my talent in music is my only redeeming quality. Yeah, I’m pretty good. I’ll admit that. But one redeeming quality? all right fine, I’ll admit that, too.

26. What do you need right now?

Time to myself for once.

Thanks for tagging me! This is a long one! I don’t have very many people to tag, so I’m going to tag @snowdropwrites, sorry if you’ve already been tagged!