#there's always someone who is better than you are now but still being recognized for what you do it wonderful

[beescrafting]

You aren't my Lieutenant.

Angstful writing idea that I have for Ghost and Roach that ties into what I'm writing and to put Roach in the reboot series just cause I love him SO DAMN MUCH.

___

Ghost remembered his rookie days alongside Roach. They joined together around the same time. They hated each other's guts at first but soon became something like brothers, a nice relationship.

Then when he got captured by Roba and Ghost was truly made, Gary was by his side. Gary always was by his side when he lost everything. Except when he lost him. It was a mission... of course, it was a damn mission it wouldn't have been anything else. Gary was close to getting on the exfil before being shot.

Ghost mourned his friend, hell he looked at the damn build-a-bear Gary had gotten him one time to poke fun at him... he held it close before squeezing the palm of it. 'Simon don't be such a sad sap' the voice of Gray...

now Gary was gone...

Years passed and Ghost still felt the guilt, he was apart of the 141 now with Captain Price, Sergeants Kyle 'Gaz' and Johnny 'Soap'... it was getting back to some sense of normalcy if you could call it that.

And then they get a strange power burst while on base, and the alarms of an inturder ring through the building.

Ghost is the first to find him, it's Gary... it's Roach...

Roach doesn't recognize him, pointing a gun at him and looking around confused.

"Who the hell are you?" Roach muttered.

Ghost had never been so happy to have a gun pointed at him. For his friend was back... or some sort of version.

~~~

It was just a mission for Gary alongside his Lieutenant and Captain, invade a building, take down the machine and gather intel. Simple and plain.

So explain to him why he was trapped in the room with the damn machine turned on as his captain and Lieutenant tried to get him out, it was too late they all knew it... but it still hurt to know he was going to die like this.

"Hey Lt, Cap' think i won't be able to get drinks this time" He joked as the bright green light consumed him.

Roach expected pain, a firey sensation... But no... he was in some random dark room... it confused him. As he moved the lights suddenly turned on which freaked him out as he looked for hostiles... their was nothing... then how did the lights turn on?...

Roach quickly moved to radio to his squad, to his captain, to his lieutenant... nothing but static came through...

"Shit... shit" Roach mumbled unsure on what was happening... That when someone strange entered the room, and quickly shouted at him to stop. And what does roach do? What any good cock roach would...

Run.

He rushed past that random guy, a guy with a nice plain t-shirt and a baseball cap with the British flag. It didn't make sense for him to be back in England when the mission took place in fucking france!

He ran, and ran, the lights and alarms started. This place, this base, this compound or lab knew he was here now, he needed to find a way out and to get back to his team.

This place was large and confusing it was nothing like the building he was once in... He turned a corner only to find a door, it was better than anything so he rushed in and closed the door behind him. He heard the steps of men passing by yelling orders trying to find him.

Roach stepped back from the door for a few minutes, playing rock, paper, scissors with himself to calm down and focus. Once he was calm enough, he began to process what had happened. What was he going to do? He didn't know where he was, what had happened, or what he could do... It was just almost too much.

Roach leaned against the wall to this... what the hell was this? He glanced around, it looked to be a debriefing room... alright... he could work with this... just maybe.

He went through looking around for anything he could use, information mostly, it was all stuff about missions and Makarov... of fucking course Makarov...

He scoffed for a moment before hearing the door to the room open. He froze still for a signal moment before turning around raising his gun. Only to be met by one scary god damn mother fucker.

This wall of a person surrounded in black with a skull mask, Gary didn't want to know if it was fake or not, stared at him still just like him. It took all his willpower just to mutter, "Who the hell are you?"

___

im not feral for roach content... yes I am feral for roach content I just love him so much.

[elisadoreyou]

For the drabble requests, peril meeting each other for the first time?

YALL KNOW I LOVE ME SOME PERIL ! So my peril canon is they met freshman year, Paul having just moved to Tulsa. Just so we’re clear.

I did my best , I’m never good with first meetings but i think it came out okay ! Short and sweet, but it gets the job done.

Darry really didn’t know why he was here. He’d always loved football, loved to play it with his dad, his brothers and the other greasers. As a hobby, as a fun little thing to do to pass the time.

But when his dad asked if he was gonna tryout for the high school football team, Darry couldn’t say no. Because truthfully, he did want to play, he was pretty good for someone who doesn’t have much learning experience, his parents not being able to scrounge up enough money for him to join any teams. And the thought of being on a team was just so exciting to him.

Now though, he feels so out of place among all of the boys. He’s the only greaser that bothered to show up, the rest being socs, and Darry just feels uneasy. And lonely. Like everyone’s staring at him and waiting for him to fuck up somehow, as if that’s possible by just sitting and doing nothing.

This was a terrible idea, I should just leave.

And before he could even turn to grab his things, he hears footsteps coming towards him, and he turns to see someone he doesn’t recognize, and just stares at him, while simultaneously checking him out.

It’s a boy with dark, curly hair, and somewhat of a baby face. He’s tall, but shorter than Darry, who’s always towered over everyone he knows, other then Chet Baker who’s just a freak of nature.

The first thing Darry thinks is Oh, he’s pretty. Now he’s no poet, but the sun is shining perfectly down on this boy and he kind of looks like an angel and-

Jesus, he needs to stop thinking.

Angel boy is smiling, undeterred by Darry’s stare, and holds out his hand, “Hi, I’m Paul Holden. What’s your name?”

Darry just sits there silent for a few seconds, collecting his thoughts. This is obviously a soc, made obvious by the fact that his entire outfit and cleats look brand new. And Darry would have been wary, socs never willingly go up to greasers to just “strike a conversation”.

But then Darry thinks back, to 10 minutes earlier when he arrived, and noticed a curly haired boy sitting by himself on the bench, away from everyone. But Darry’s not rude, and this poor boy- Paul Holden, is just standing with his arm out.

So Darry grabs his hand and shakes it. “Darrel Curtis, but everyone calls me Darry.”

Paul nods. “Darry, I like that better. Darrel sounds like an old guy’s name.” He rambles and sits down next to Darry. Darry can see out of the corner of his eye some of the other guys staring at them, but it seems like Paul is undeterred.

“Thanks, I guess.” Darry shrugged, “Did you need something?”

Paul shook his head. “No, I just saw you sitting by yourself and thought you needed a friend. I just moved here so I don’t know anyone, and if I’m being honest, you look much nicer than those guys.” He nods his head towards the other socs.

Darry was just dumbfounded though. “A friend?” What the hell was this guy on about?

Paul just laughed, still smiling. “Yeah, a friend. And unfortunately, I’m not returnable, so you’re stuck with me Curtis.”

And Darry couldn’t stop himself from smiling, and nodding.

Huh, maybe he is an angel.

[kori-senpai]

Hi friend,

So I think you were one of the fence fanartists I have known for quite a while but we never get to introduce ourselves properly. Also can I just say how gorgeous your art is like whenever you post fence styff I am so so happy. However I also have some questions in mind like: When did you start drawing and writing fanfics, do you have a pet, what is your fav food, your fav music artist and also movies.

I hope you have a good day

As always I promise to keep supporting your art

Danke

Atom :)

First off, thank you very much. This is probably one of the nicest strings of words that were ever thrown my way 💚

I started drawing when I was very little. Both my parents were artists (a tattoo and graffiti artist for one, and a classical painter the other) and I grew up drawing every chance I got. I am more skilled with classical painting than digital since I only started that fairly recently. But I admire all the digital art out there so I wanted to start learning it too. Fence was actually the first digital art I've ever drawn so it has a special place in my heart ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Writing fanfic comes down to a similar vein. I liked reading a lot when I was little, had my first job at a bookshop and combined with my love for video games, all that creative input had to go out somewhere. So I turned to fanfic. And I've been doing it ever since, mostly in English nowadays.

I do not have one currently. I had multiple cats in my life though; I'm a big cat person. Their independence fascinates me ✨

My favorite food would be lasagna, shortly followed by rice pudding. Both in practice and in theory lol.

Favorite music artist is Noah Kahan, next to Em Beihold and Jagwar Twin. Hozier also, but I feel like every non-straight person adores that guy, so it barely counts lmao. For bands I'm a big fan of Set It Off, Blame My Youth and NOTD. I'm a big indie and alternative fan as you can see :')

My favorite movie is Night in the museum ever since I saw it first when I was small. Something about it gets me every time, I don't know hah :D

Anyway a big 'Danke' back to you since you managed to light up my evening with that ask. Have a quick Bobby sketch I made in like thirty minutes last night

[papercorgiworld]

Listening in and panicking

Mattheo, any Tom, Enzo, Theo, Blaise and Draco

Your boyfriend overhears you say something that makes him believe he’s not the one you planned to be with and panics, with each having their own dramatic reaction.

Thanks for the request! Usually it’s the reader that overhear something, so it was fun to focus on the guys overhearing something, misunderstanding it and panicking about it. I actually almost had this finished last weekend but Draco was being difficult and it took me another week to finish this! So I’m happy it’s here! Sending you all a lot of love and kisses. Happy readings!

Mattheo

That the quidditch game hadn’t gone well was a light way of putting it and Mattheo really needed you to brush through his hair so his muscles would instantly relax. For the past few hours Mattheo had been contemplating whether or not to crash your girls' night. He knew he could be demanding and didn’t want to be the asshole boyfriend who ruined this for you. He was especially afraid of your judgy friends who probably didn’t hold Mattheo in a high regard as a boyfriend. However, he was damn near losing it when he heard the Weasley’s fireworks. “They won a game. Not the cup.” He hissed, throwing away his cigarette and surrendering to the desire to be with you.

He could hear the giggling of girls when he approached Pansy’s dorm and took a deep breath as he raised his hand to give a gentle knock on the door. 

Mattheo halts his movement as he hears your voice, he listens intently but is only able to make out some words. “What?! Someone like Cedric? How did you end up dating Mattheo Riddle of all people?” Pansy’s sharp voice sucks out all of Mattheo’s breath and he’s nailed to the floor as he listens to your voice. He can’t really hear all you’re saying because your voice is soft and further away than Pansy’s, but he does make out one thing. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Matt.” 

Mattheo’s distrusting nature took this entirely the wrong way and he didn’t even bother to listen in further. After those words his feet take him far away from you. His heart aches as he now believes he’s not the guy you want to be with while you are all he wants for the rest of his life. He feels suffocated by the fear of losing you and rushes out of the castle. 

It’s Fred that spots Mattheo’s appalled face first. “Still not over your epic loss.” He snickers, not aware that Mattheo is more than pleased to run into an excuse to punch. “Get off of my brother!” George screeches before taking a swing at Mattheo. Fuck, I forgot there are always two of them.

A soft knock at the door has all the girls narrow their eyes at the door. “Are we expecting anyone else?” Pansy looks disgusted at the thought of some loser girl wanting to join her elite girls’ night, but as she gets up to open the door it’s Theodore who pushes it open just wide enough to stick his head through it. “You better have a damn good excuse Nott.” Pansy crosses her arms with a death glare that would match your boyfriend’s. “Mattheo.” Theo simply states making your heart skip a beat not just at your boyfriend’s name but at the seriousness of Theo’s voice. “That guy is always in some kind of trouble and not an excuse to come in here.” Pansy snaps, far from interested in whatever mess Mattheo had gotten himself into, but you had already gotten up from your spot among the soft pillows. Pansy lets her head fall, not pleased that you were leaving, but you just give her an apologetic smile and pull your hoodie over your head.

Mattheo rolls his eyes when he sees you enter the hospital wing, but he also couldn’t help but return his gaze to you. In short pyjama shorts and an oversized hoodie that Mattheo didn’t recognize was his, you looked so innocent and for a moment he forgot that you broke his heart. You took a seat next to him on the hospital bed, while studying his injuries. “You’re an idiot.” You whisper, but Mattheo just snorts and lets his head fall back into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah well, apologies that I’m no Cedric Diggory.” Mattheo says with a quiet but poisonous ring to it. 

Your eyebrows knit together for a few seconds before it hits you. “Unbelievable.” You chuckle and Mattheo looks up at you with pained and confused eyes. How could you think this was funny when it was heartbreaking to him. 

“You sure are no Cedric Diggory.” The soft laugh that follows your words puts Mattheo at ease. “You’re better than anything I had ever hoped for. So Matt, don’t ever jump to conclusions as ridiculous as the ones circling your head now. I love you and I don’t think I could ever love someone else.” Mattheo stares at you with a clenched jaw and glassy eyes. “I really hope so, because I don’t want to lose you.” His voice is raspy and you give him a soft smile, before leaning in. Your boyfriend is more than pleased to feel your touch, deepening the kiss as soon as your lips brush his. 

Tom

You and Tom had been dating for a while and it was clear that you were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend, but Tom was not one to put labels on relationships especially with all dark things surrounding him. He was losing his patience with Hogwarts and its professor questioning his ambitions. His always stoic and charming attitude had almost been broken by Dumbledore’s intrusive questions. It had upset him  to such a level that he needed you around regardless of your plans.

Agitated and in need of your calming voice Tom is ready to burst in and ruin girls night when he overhears you and your friends banther. “What, him? He’s nothing like Tom?” Some girl squeals. “He’s the exact opposite.” Another laughs. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Tom Riddle.” His eyes go dark the instant he hears you say his name. His tongue moves as his mind rages with absolute fury for you. You of all people, you that he needed more than anyone. He wasn’t even your first choice. Suddenly all your friends in the room faint and you jump up, immediately checking for a pulse. It’s in that silent moment of relief when you realise that your friends are just asleep that you hear footsteps outside.

You swing the door open with your wand ready in hand, but when you spot your boyfriend you relax. “You can’t just hex people.” You sigh, you tense up a bit when Tom turns to face you with emotionless eyes. “I can, I'm a wizard.” You knew better than to mess with him when he was as cold as he was now. “What’s going on?” You calmly ask, walking towards him. “Explain to me what you meant with ‘someone like Tom Riddle’?” A featherlight huff of air escapes your lips as you meet his eyes, you can’t keep a smile from tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Someone who hexes four people to sleep because he’ll take any excuse to believe that he is unloved, rather than listen to the sentence as a whole. I fell in love with you Tom Riddle and I don’t intend to fall out of love with you.” Your boyfriend feels almost attacked by your words. You love me? “You mean love as in the big sense of the word?” Tom’s voice is hesitant, failing to sound demanding or charming. “Tom, the word love has no small sense of the word. It’s a word that’s always true and always full of emotion.” 

“Should I wake up your friends?” Tom offers, feeling a bit embarrassed at how he overreacted. You chuckle and walk over to him and he’s happy to wrap his arms around you as you think over his offer. “Nah, I much rather spend the night with you.” His lips search yours for a tender kiss. I love you too.

Enzo

Your boyfriend was insulted when you picked Pansy over him. We could be having a bath together, but no girls’ night. I need a new girlfriend… Who am I kidding, I need just mine asap. Ignoring his friends warnings about how dangerous Pansy could be when someone interrupted her gossip nights, Enzo basically ran to Pansy’s dorm, like he needed you for urgent matters. Then again, in Enzo’s book intimate quality time with you was always an urgent matter. He needed you and he would have you now. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Enz.” Enzo’s happy puppy face falss the second he recognises it was you talking. 

The next morning an unwashed, unshaven, not properly dressed Enzo is picking at his food when you jump in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He lets you, but he doesn’t react and you frown, looking over at his friends you see them raise their shoulders. Odd. You shuffle between him and Blaise and turn to face your boyfriend. “Talk to me Enz?” “Not hungry.” He states and without even giving you one look he gets up from the table and leaves. You are absolutely frozen in your seat at what had just happened. “What did you do?” Mattheo asks, unable to hide his curiosity and amusement. No one had ever seen Enzo like this so everyone at the table was dying to know what had happened, but you didn’t have a clue. 

You take breakfast on the go and follow your boyfriend. Quickly stuffing your mouth as you head for his room. You enter and see him lying on his bed with his back turned towards you. “Enz, talk to me, what’s wrong?” You get no response except for a lazy shrug so you decide to move closer and sit by his side. As soon as you do so he turns around so again his back is facing towards you. At this point you were getting slightly annoyed with his behaviour. “Enz-” “Just break up with me already!” Enzo snaps and he jumps up heading for the door.

When you see him angrily swing open the door you snap. “Sit your ass down, Berkshire!” Enzo stops in his tracks and for a second no one moves, not you, not Enzo, not the people in the slytherin common room who were absolutely terrified of what was about to go down. Enzo closes the door and turns to face you. You immediately notice his tired eyes and you walk over to him. “Enz-” Your soft voice breaks your boyfriend’s stubborn attitude. “I’m nothing like the type of guy you wanted… you just accidentally ended up with me.” Your eyebrows knit together and Enzo explains himself further. “I overheard you and your friends talk last night, I wasn’t listening in or anything, I just missed you.” His voice sounds painfully broken and your grab his hands meet his eyes with a sincerity. “I didn’t accidentally end up with you. You charmed me. You spend days flirting your way into my life, my head and my bed… You made me fall in love with you and oh boy did I fall for you, Enzo Berkshire, you and all your charm. Did first year me think to ever end up with you? No. Do I ever want anyone else? No! You are the one, Enzo.” A small smirk tugs on his lips as he can’t hide his happiness anymore. “I’m the one?” Your boyfriend questions sheepishly and you nod, making him smile brightly. “I’m the one.” He repeats, eyebrows wiggling, pleased with that new piece of information. 

Theo

Stealing you away from a girls night wouldn’t be easy, but Theodore had come prepared. He hated himself for being this needy and this cheesy, but he flicked away his cigarette anyways and picked up a small box filled with your favourite snacks. His friends and everyone else at Hogwarts were starting to see that the tough guy act that Theodore had been keeping up for years was cracking as his softer side was becoming more and more visible everyday all because of you, the love of his life. Walking towards Pansy’s dorm a small smile creeps up your boyfriend’s lips as he stares at the snacks in his hands. Salazar, I’m whipped for this girl and I don’t even mind. Your voice interrupts his thoughts and his eyes lift to the door in front of him. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Theo.” Pansy snickers “Yeah, he’s nothing like the guy you just described. So weird you fell for him.” You chuckle at Pansy’s words. “Silly, I know.” The word silly rings in Theodore’s mind as he speedwalks away. 

“I so want to marry him.” You laugh and continue dreaming out loud. “He would be such a sweet and sexy husband… oh and omg he would be the greatest dad to our kids. I just know he’ll be so invested with their dreams and hobbies.” You roll on your back and stare up at the ceiling, when you sigh in a dreamy way Pansy smashes a pillow in your face. “Hello! Girls night, stop dreaming about your boyfriend… and instead tell us nasty sex stories or something.” Everyone burst out laughing and you spend the night not having a clue that in Theodore’s mind you two were done.

The next morning you are still unaware of your break up and instead fall in love even more when you find a box filled with your favourite snacks outside of Pansy’s dorm. “That’s just disgustingly adorable.” Pansy jokes as you walk in the direction of the great hall. “Husband material.” You sing and smile at Pansy. However, you stop in your tracks when you spot Theo lazily hanging over some girl's shoulder joking with her about something. He notices you and you want to smile, but he instantly looks away making you frown. You and Pansy walk over to him, but your heart already knows something is wrong. When you stand beside him Theodore reluctantly pulls his attention away from the pretty girl at the table to give you an agitated look. “Look (y/n), I heard you last night, I’m not the guy you planned on ending up with and I don’t mind, but let’s not waste any more time on this relationship and just go our own way.” You stand there absolutely perplexed and you’re absolutely horrified to hear some girls giggling at the scene in front of them. When you finally open your mouth Theo doesn’t even let you speak. “It’s been fun, but really I’m busy here.” 

Never had anyone stomped on your heart and humiliated you like this. With teary eyes you turn around and rush out of the great hall, only to hear Ron hushed voice, “That was brutal.”, followed by loud smack, probably Hermoine. 

Theodore didn’t even look as you walked away, but Pansy’s silent but demanding presence forces him to again look away from the girl he’s trying to play. When Theo looks up Pansy wastes no time. “You absolute baboon!” There’s a silence as she just looks at him like he’s vermin. “First of all you don’t eavesdrop.” She smacks him on his arm. “Secondly, you missed out on the part where she said she wants to marry you.” Smacks him again. “Contrary to her opinion, I think you would be a shit dad considering you are a god awful boyfriend.” Smacks him even harder. “Go apologise!” “But she said-” “Apologise!” Pansy’s shriek horrified everyone in the great hall, but Theodore just stood there confused. He had been so convinced you didn’t really want him, you had just fallen for him but it was never supposed to last and now Pansy’s telling him that you want the same as him, marriage and a life together.

Slowly and slightly terrified Theo opens the door to your room. He’s immediately met with the sound of your sobs and when he spots your figure curled up into a ball his heart breaks even harder than it had done yesterday. You turn around expecting to see Pansy, but you’re shocked to see an apologetic looking Theodore slowly walking towards you. “No!” You snap at him and get up. “Get out!” You yell and throw a pillow at his head. “Please listen, I made a mistake.” You grab the table lamp on your night stand. “Yes, you did by coming here!” He’s quick to grab your hand and keep you from smashing the lamp on his head. “Don’t. You love this lamp.” You girth your teeth, of course Theodore knows you love that lamp, he knows everything about you. You start sobbing again and Theo struggles to find words so he just gets to his knees. “It was a misunderstanding. I thought I was just a fling to you and it broke my heart… and I did a dumb thing.” Your eyes go wide. “A fling? You thought you were a fling?” You can’t believe your dumb ass boyfriend. Theodore takes your hand in his and kisses it softly. “Please forgive me.” He begs in a soft voice. You look at him sitting on his knees, holding your hand, looking lost. “Please.” He urges and you start laughing. “There are no words to describe you, Theodore Nott.” Theo gets up and smiles. “How about future husband? Does that describe me?” He pulls you closer and a cheeky smile forms on his lips. You loved him, but forced your smile into a line. “I’m still mad.” You state and your boyfriend’s confidence fades. “Obviously. Just let me make this up to you.” You better!

Blaise

“I dare you.” M attheo whispered near Blaise’s ear for the millionth time. “Still not playing.” Blaise sighs and Mattheo growls in annoyance. “Why?” Blaise looks up from his book. “I’m not ruining my girlfriend’s girl’s night because you want me to spy on your crush… I also don’t believe they would even let me stay.” Mattheo huffs. “I don’t have a crush, it’s research, and you should at least try to get in there.” Blaise shakes his head no. “I’ll do your homework.” Mattheo offers. “I’ll do it better.” Blaise sings, making Theo chuckle. “I’ll clean your side of the dorm.” Blaise looks up at Mattheo. “Have you cleaned a thing in your life?” Mattheo thinks about it and quickly realises that he needs to think of a different offer. “I’ll shut up for at least 24h hours if you try to get in.” “Oh, please Blaise, do me a favour and just go, so Matt will be silent.” Blaise sighs and gets up. “Fine, I’ll take one for the team.” Draco and Theo both cheer, making Mattheo frown.

As Blaise approaches Pansy’s dorm he hears several girls snicker and followed by lots of chatter that he can’t make out, until he’s right in front of the door. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Blaise.” Without a second though Blaise turns on his heels and walks back to his friends. Once there his friends all look up to see his horrified expectation. “You okay mate?” Mattheo asks worriedly and Theodore puts his book down to listen, but Blaise can’t form an answer. What does that mean? Why does she wonder about how she ended up with me? 

Blaise just stares in front of him like he was solving some physics problem and not being very successful. Draco takes a piece of parchment from his study notes and forms it into a ball of paper before throwing it at Blaise who seems to wake up from his thoughts and again turn on his heels. “Odd.” Theodore says and Draco shrugs, but they all continue with their business. 

Blaise is back at Pansy’s door and swings it open this time, making all your friends scream for a second. “What the hell, Zabini!” Pansy snaps. “Why do you wonder how you ended up falling in love with someone like me?” Blaise’s eyes focus on you. “What does that mean, someone like me? You mean my colour, my nerdiness, sporty side, or that I’m a bad boy type of guy? And more importantly, are we done? I mean, I would like to know if you’re breaking up with me.” Pansy crosses her arms and groans, dropping her head before snapping at Blaise. “Did she not just say that she fell in love with you! Seriously, if you eavesdrop, at least do it right!” 

“I’m not breaking up with you!” Blaise sighs in relief and you get up from your seat. Blaise looks around and feels a bit embarrassed when he notices all your friends saw his moment of panic. “And what I meant with someone like you was someone as cool and composed as you… but I guess that facade just fell.” Blaise chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess I panicked for a moment, but that was only because I thought you were going to break up with me. Now I’m cool again.” You  smile and lick your lips. “It was kinda sexy.” You whisper and his hands make their way to your hips as you kiss him. 

“Ew! Get that dude out of my girl’s night!” Pansy expresses her annoyances making you both smile into the kiss. 

Draco

“Girls like it when you interrupt their little parties and show them love in front of all their friends.” Enzo frowns at Draco’s statement. “Your girl might like it but Pansy will not.” Draco huffs and straightens his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of her.” This false play of bravery makes Enzo snort. “Even Matt is scared of Pansy and his father is the dark lord.” Enzo argues, but Draco just waves his arguments away and heads for Pansy’s dorm. 

“The guy you describe is nothing like Draco!” Pansy squeals, shocked by the person you had just described. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Malfoy.” You say rather serious. Draco considers whether to continue listening in, but his ego is too bruised. I’m not the kind of guy she wanted… Did she start dating me out of pity or something…

After a few seconds Enzo sees Draco return, clearly upset. “Told you, Pansy’s scaryyy.” Enzo sings as Draco just speedwalks past him and Theodore lounging in the common room. Both Slytherins shrug, but make no move to check on Draco. 

The next morning you joyfully walk, almost skip, to your boyfriend who is rather depressingly resting his head in hand as he stares endlessly in front of him. “Bad night?” You ask in a gentle whisper and his eyes move to yours, but he doesn’t answer, only the corners of his mouth twitch in response. The heartbrokenness is obvious in his eyes and your joy fades away as you sit beside him. “Who is he?” You almost hurt yourself trying to figure out who Draco is asking about. “The guy you actually like?” You raise your eyebrows and his absurd question. “Oh that guy, total moron… YOU! You dummy! I like you, you know that.” You laugh at Draco’s silliness but he doesn’t even smile so after a few seconds your smile fades as well. “I heard you talk yesterday… about this other guy… that’s nothing like me.” There’s a long silence as it takes you a moment to figure out what your boyfriend is talking about. When you do, you immediately want to assure him, but interrupts you before you get the chance. “I just need to know if I still have a chance with you…” His eyes look lifeless as he confesses his fear of losing you and you. 

You sit up straight and cup his cheeks. “Draco Malfoy, I love YOU. There is no other guy! You hear me?” Even though you’re holding his face in your hands he shakes no. “You said-” You sigh. “Draco, before I came to Hogwarts I had a crush on another guy who was nothing like you, but as soon as I met your dumb ass I thought that has to be the love of my life… weird but true.” Draco stares deep into your eyes in an attempt to check if you’re telling the truth. “So you’re not dumping for some tanned six pack bodybuilder type?” You laugh out loud and Enzo and Mattheo raise their eyebrows as they approach you. “Draco is an idiot.” You say smiling. “I could have told you that before you started dating.” Mattheo jokes sitting down opposite of Draco. “Looking for a new boyfriend?” Enzo quips, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “I’m single and ready to mingle.” Draco throws a pancake at Enzo who dodges it elegantly. “Don’t even think about it Enzo! I’m an idiot but not that big an idiot to let her go.” You smile at your boyfriend and he kisses you gently. 

[rose-pearls]

The perils of love

Summary: being in love with Luke seemed to be a bad idea as you realise that he doesn't seem to be interested. But as you get ready to move on from love entirely your father decides to appear and two people fall for you.

Main Taglist : @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Part 2

Luke Castellan, everyone knew him at camp either for his sword skills or just his kind smiles for every camper that walked into the Hermes cabin. You had fallen for him the moment you met him, sweet brown eyes and a kind smile had you into a puddle. 

You had been twelve, wandering around the Hermes cabin, waiting desperately for your parent to claim you but the days went by, and you still were there. The little girls crush however didn’t went by but grew stronger every day you saw the boy who slowly turned into a man that had all the girls going crazy over him.  

He had been kind to you but there was always a look that you couldn’t decipher, until today that was.

“So, where is your number one fan Luke?”, you hear Chris say in a teasing tone and after a moment you hear Chris say your name, as if to make it clear it was you. 

“I don’t know and frankly I don’t have the time to care right now,” Luke says after letting out a sigh, but you felt your chest tighten at the words. Chris snorts at the words and you don’t expect what he says next.

“You know that there is a betting pool as to when the both of you are going to date,” you don’t know how Luke reacts, as you are practically one with the wall, but you hear him snort.

“Please, she is a sweet girl, but I would never date her. I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes she can just be a little-”, he seems to be trying to find his words and as you wait for it you feel tears brimming in your eyes at his previous statement.

“Clingy? I mean she is practically everywhere you are.”, the words are like a bullet to your heart, particularly when you hear Luke agree.

“I know right, I mean I know that she is still part of the Hermes cabin as she hasn’t been claimed yet but still,” you try to blink the tears away, not willing to cry as you hear the words being said by the man you had always looked up to. 

“Maybe she will never be claimed, I mean after three years,” Chris says, and you can hear the grimace in his voice, he says it with such carelessness as if you haven’t been thinking about the same thing every night for the past three years, wondering what was wrong with you.

“We’ll see what happens I guess, but maybe it would be good for her to be in another cabin,” Luke says, he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, but Chris adds one last phrase to their conversation.

“Or better for you,” there is a quiet hum of agreement and that is the only thing you need before leaving the cabin quietly, the book that you had come for quickly forgotten.

You knew it was pitiful, the fact that they all seemed to know that you liked the Hermes boy and that they all pitied you for it. Because in the end the boy would never go for you, he had a hundred girls waiting for him and yet here you were hoping for the impossible.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, but you quickly brush them away, not wanting to cry after what had happened, you needed to be strong now. It was time for you to get over that stupid crush and get on with your life, maybe if you trained more your godly parent would finally recognize you and claim you.

“What are you doing here all alone?”, you suddenly hear someone say behind you and you turn around to find Annabeth looking at you with worried eyes.

“Thinking, the lake always seems to sooth me,” you say, the words coming a bit weaker than you intended them too. The girl simply nods at your words before sitting down next to you.

“What about you?”, you quietly ask her, and she lets out a sigh.

“Needed to get out a little bit, I can only strategise so much before going crazy,” she says with a small smile, and you can’t help but smile at her words.

“I’m sure your strategy will be incredible, as always,” you tell her and she simply nods, looking too far into her thoughts.

“Chiron is thinking of splitting up the Hermes cabin,” she suddenly says, and you turn to look at her in surprise.

“Really? How so?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering if this is maybe your chance to get a bit away from a certain Hermes boy.

“He thinks that the unclaimed children and children of minor gods should get the chance to chose in which team they want to be,” she looks conflicted, and you can understand why, this could mean less people for the blue team, her team.

“It seems like a kind gesture,” you can’t help but say and Annabeth nods in agreement.

“It is, although he could’ve said it sooner, now we all need to find a different strategy and we are going crazy with figuring out who will be on our team,” she seems overwhelmed, and you can’t help but put your hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down.

“Hey, calm down it will all be alright,” you tell her, and she takes a deep breath before slowly nodding in agreement.

“I know, I just don’t want to lose,” she says with a pout, and you can finally see the twelve-year-old she really is, that childlike excitement at the thought of capture the flag.

The both of you are deep in thought before her voice breaks the silence, her voice small as she talks.

“Which team are you choosing?”, it was probably a valid question to ask, you were unclaimed so you could technically choose which team to be on, but you just couldn’t get the previous conversation you had heard out of your head.

“The fact that you aren’t saying anything makes me think that you are going to go on the red team,” it seems like she is trying to tease you but there is some sort of hurt woven into her words.

“Don’t take it personally,” you can’t help but say, as much as you would’ve liked staying on the blue team you just couldn’t bear to be that close to Luke after what you had heard. You didn’t know what you would be doing tonight as you were sleeping in the same cabin as always, but he wouldn’t pay attention to you not unless you went to him.

“Did something happened with Luke?”, the carefully asked question makes you look at Annabeth with wide eyes, she had an understanding look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but curse the fact that she was Athena’s daughter.

“Nothing happened, I just realised that maybe I should get to know other people and that maybe it would get me out of my comfort zone,” there are a lot of things unsaid, Annabeth knows it too. Luckily, she doesn’t know of the conversation you had heard, or the fact that the words had cut you deeper than you could’ve ever thought they would. 

“You should probably tell Chiron and the red team, I heard that they were planning a strategy evening to talk about what they were going to do tomorrow,” you try to find anger in Annabeth’s eyes but there is only understanding and a lingering sadness that seems to disappear as you get up.

“Good idea, I will be doing that right now. Good luck on the strategy and don’t drive yourself crazy Annabeth you will do great,” you tell her, and a sweet smile appears on her lips as she nods slowly making you smile at her.

“Don’t be a stranger!”, she yells as you are about to leave, and you turn around to smile at her.

“I won’t!”, she looks reassured at the words before turning back to the water, leaving you to go towards Chiron office. 

--

“A little birdie told me you were on the red team,” you hear someone say and turn around to find Clarisse smirking at you.

“Would that little birdie be Chiron?”, you ask, feeling breathless after trying to stab the dummy about a hundredth time with your sword.

“I don’t reveal my sources princess,” she says with a smirk while you feel your cheeks heat up, you tell yourself it’s because of the work out you just did.

“We have a meeting tonight, after dinner at the Ares cabin,” she says while looking around the rink before picking up a sword.

“I’ll be there,” you tell her, expecting the girl to leave you alone but she just comes closer to you.

“After that there is a movie night and a sleepover, one of the Aphrodite kids managed to convince Chiron to allow it,” the words leave you confused for a moment, how would you even have a movie night with all these people.

“Only a few people are invited for that part,” she clarifies, and you feel breathless at the sight of her warm brown eyes, seemingly forgetting about other brown eyes.

“How come I am invited?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering why the Ares girl suddenly seemed sweet to you when she was practically attacking anyone else. 

“Don’t ask too many questions or you’ll be uninvited princess,” the nickname rolls of her tongue in a way that makes your cheeks go red, once again.

“Fine I’ll stop asking questions and just come with my pajama’s,” you tell her, and a satisfied grin makes his way on her lips.

“Good, now back to serious stuff you were holding your sword the wrong way,” she says like it’s a fact, as if she was pointing out that the sky was blue.

“No, I wasn’t!”, you can’t help but say looking at her with wide eyes.

“Yes, it is, let me help you fix it. I need the best people on my team after all,” you get ready to object but as you feel her get behind you putting her hand over yours on the sword to put your hand correctly you find yourself speechless.

The next hour is spent fighting against each other, but you can’t stop laughing as Clarisse tells you stories of her siblings to try and distract you, which ultimately works as you often end up on your ass. You don’t even seem to notice another pair of brown eyes looking at you, farther away, brows furrowed as he looks at the scene in front of him.

--

“Welcome to the exclusive sleepover,” you hear a soft voice say and you turn around to find Silena smiling kindly at you, two glasses in her hands before giving one to you.

“Thank you, guess they really were exclusive as I had never heard of them before,” you say, feeling a bit nervous as you look around the room only to find Clarisse in a heated discussion with another Aphrodite girl.

“Clarisse only invites people that she trusts or likes, which isn’t many, but she does cares for them,” Silena smiles at the Ares girl in front of you and you can’t help but do the same, Clarisse always seemed to be angry but in that moment, she seemed far more softer.

“I’m glad she trusts me,” you say, somehow missing the look Silena gives you, a look of confusion as you seem to have missed her clue on Clarisse liking you.

Clarisse had always been discrete about it, but Silena had caught her looking at you far too often to not know about it. Her fingers always seemed to itch when you were sword fighting, as if she was itching to get your posture right and to be able to touch you even for just a few seconds. You only had eyes for the Castellan boy, or it seemed that way until yesterday when Chiron told them that you would be on their team. Silena didn’t ask much of her mother but in that moment, she couldn’t help but ask her mother for help to get the both of you together. Clarisse deserved her happy ending and you deserved someone who would love you for who you were.

She gets woken from her thoughts as she hears Clarisse talking to you, there is a nervousness in her gestures as she pushes her hair behind her ear, but you don’t seem to realize it as you recount a story. Silena quietly gets up from her spot, and sends and encouraging look towards Clarisse, who seems a bit more at ease now. 

--

Capture the flag is a mess, more than the last time but you try not to let your mind wander too long. A boy that you think is from the Hephaestus cabin runs towards you and you sigh in annoyance before starting to fight against him, quickly ‘killing’ him and making him surrender. 

You had been tasked with trying to find the blue flag, but it seemed as if Annabeth had found a really good spot this time, and she had put more people in defense. After a while you wondered if you had the wrong hunch until you saw something blue flickering in the reflection of your sword. As you turned to look behind you, you saw the blue flag but weirdly there was no one around it.

“This feels like a trap,” you can’t help but whisper under your breath as you try to hide behind the bushes but a blade against your neck makes you stop in your steps.

“Sorry, but I need to do this,” you hear someone say and you turn around to find a sheepish Percy looking at you.

“Hi Percy,” you say with a kind smile and the boy smiles back, looking reassured that you aren’t mad or swinging your sword at him.

“How are you doing?”, you can’t help but ask, you hadn’t seen him since he had been claimed by Poseidon, but the boy seemed healthy.

“Good, well as good as you can when you learn that your father is one of the big three’s and that your life will be a hellhole,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you can’t help but snort.

“Still as sarcastic I see,” you can’t help but say while laughing and a sheepish grin forms itself on his lips.

“Can’t help it,” he says while shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s a shame you aren’t on our team,” he says quietly, and you smile softly, the two of you had talked a lot when he had arrived, and you felt close to him.

“Maybe next time,” you tell him and the boy smiles at the answer before asking you a question and the two of you talk for a moment before you hear a battle cry and see the red team suddenly making their way in the clearing, the blue team also appearing.

Percy and you look at each other with wide eyes before you take out your sword.

“If you don’t say anything about this, I won’t say anything,” Percy nods quickly and the both of you break away from the tree you were behind before joining your team as Percy joins his.

An Apollo girl comes running towards you, but you quickly manage to disarm her, others following behind her, but you are in such a haze that you don’t realize how close you are getting to the flag. That is until you are met with a familiar blade, Luke’s. 

The boy is looking at you, slightly out of breath from the fighting just like you.

“You can always abandon now sweetheart,” he says and can’t help but blush slightly at the familiar nickname. 

“No chance Castellan, give me your worst,” this seems to make the boy laugh before he quickly wields his swords, yours clashing against his in familiar movements. You had fought many times against Luke as he had taught you how to fight but you had a new trick up your sleeve that Clarisse had taught you. She had told you that his left leg was his weakness, a bruise that had never really fully recovered. 

So, when the opportunity presents itself, you wield your sword against his left leg, making sure not to hurt him too much. But as you hit the spot Luke winces in pain and his sword leaves his hand. You don’t think at that point and simply continue straight to the flag, whispering a soft ‘sorry’ as you go to the Hermes boy.

You manage to take the flag before seeing Percy coming towards you with his sword, you expect the hit, but he seems transfixed, looking at something above you. There is a loud silence, on a battlefield that was filled with battle cries just a second ago.

Chiron’s voice suddenly comes up, suddenly saying your name.

“Daughter of Zeus, king of the gods,” the rest of his words are lost as you look up, only to see the symbol of Zeus above your head, your father’s symbol.

You didn’t know how to feel, you had been waiting for so long but now that it was happening you just felt lost. Why was he claiming you right now?

“Congratulations! Seems like we are cousins now,” you suddenly hear Percy say, he has a bright smile on his lips, but there is also sadness in his eyes. It takes you a few seconds to understand why, you were now a child of the big three, which meant your life was about to be a hellhole as Percy had said.

“Always though there was something familiar between the two of us,” you try to say in a teasing tone, but it falls flat, Percy nodding in understanding.

As you turn around to look at the rest of the camp you see Luke looking at you with wide brown eyes, as if he was seeing you for the first time. You turn your gaze towards Clarisse who is looking at you with a proud smile and something else that you can’t quite understand.

There was surely a lot of trouble coming but not the one you were expecting, it would be far more complicated than monsters or a father that decided to appear after fifteen years. Matters of the heart were after all the most complicated of all, particularly between a daughter of Zeus, a daughter of Ares and a son of Hermes. 

[ms-dead-inside]

Okay, but hear me out:

Murder baby Damian, but for whatever reason, his first attempt at Tim's life is put on pause, so they never have that interaction. Instead, before Damian can come up with a new plan, Tim (who's kinda excited he now isn't the baby of the family) offers to train him in detective work for when Damian finally gets the mantle of 'Robin' as a way to bond with him.

"Why train your enemy, Drake?"

"We're brothers, not enemies. Besides, Robin has always been a mantle to pass down. I'm certainly not going to keep it in my twenties or thirties. And other than Bruce, I'm the best detective in the family."

"Very well, Drake, I shall accept your tutelage for the time being."

Damian accepts, of course. Not only can he study Drake for his weaknesses, he will also improve his own skill set. It's worth the wait for Robin. By the time Damian's done, there will be no doubt that he is the superior bat.

Unfortunately, he actually grows fond of Timothy. While he will inevitably get close with Richard, just like in canon, Timothy is a breath of fresh air for when Richard is being too overbearing, especially when it comes to things like 'socializing,' and 'making friends.'

When his father dies, and Timothy declared him actually lost to time, Richard doesn't believe him, can't believe him, because the hope is too painful. Timothy still gives Damian Robin, because, "I'm barely holding on as Batman as it is. I can't handle Robin being gone for potentially months at a time, halfway around the world."

During his partnership with Richard, truly becoming his brother-son, Richard introduces the ideas of pets to him. Damian loves animals, and having and taking care of a creature that could potentially survive on its own, but will have a much better quality of life under his care, speaks to him. He has Alfred and Titus and about half a dozen other stray animals that usually stay for about a week while he nurses them to health at any given moment, but he feels like he should officially have another pet.

Que the whole thing with his grandfather, and Timothy getting kicked out of the top of a skyscraper. He comes home with proof, and the Justice League brings his father home. And as Dick basically refuses to let anyone leave the mansion for the foreseeable future, Damian realizes several facts:

1.) Timothy is a human, and humans are animals.

2.) While Timothy has somehow survived until now, he wouldn't recognize self-care if it slapped him in the face.

3.) Timothy's quality of life will improve if someone is taking care of him because he cannot be trusted to do it for himself. (Is it a coincidence that he loses organs when he is away from the family? Damian thinks not.)

4.) Damian has gotten good at taking care of animals.

Ergo, Timothy is now Damian's pet. Tim doesn't know what to do and simply humors him. Besides, it's nice when someone actually bothers to give him a plate of foods that he likes when he gets hyper focused on work and forgets to eat. That, and while he is exasperated every time Damian tranqs him, those are still the best sleeps of his life.

Jason finds it hilarious. Damian doesn't understand Richard or his father's reactions.

"Damian, Tim can take care of himself."

"Barely. Father, now that I am in charge of his sleep schedule, there aren't as many dark circles under his eyes. Even Alfred has commented that Timothy consumes less caffeine."

"Damian, he can't be your pet."

"Why not?"

"Tim's your brother; he's family."

"So are you saying that Alfred and Titus aren't family?"

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

You've been living a peaceful life for the last 100 years, trying to be off the radar.

You did help Strange a few times from afar, but becoming an active participant? No, you had enough of that.

Your owned ranch, your owned daily routines. You were almost healed from centuries of fighting for your life, ideals and power.

Until one day Strange broke his part of the deal.

"I need your help."

You sighed. He never cared about your garden. Always appearing when you were searching for escape with your flowers.

"No, Stephen. Whatever it is, I don't care. And please levitate. You're leaving traces."

"it's Agatha Harkness."

You looked at him. No emotions. He was waiting for your reaction. But you didn't give him any clues.

"Since when can't you fight a bound witch?"

You turned back to your apple tree. You knew in what state Agatha was. Not a threat, not an opponent. She was too deep in her illusion.

"Everything is going to change soon. There are… Entities who want her free."

"Name me one entity who would want to be betrayed by her."

"I can name you two. The boy."

"One of the twins. " Only the sound of your garden shears was heard.

It wasn't even a question. You already felt it. Stephen wouldn't be here if the reason wasn't so serious.

"And the other one?"

"Your old friend."

"Why don't you do this yourself, Stephen?"

"You know I'm not allowed to interact with her."

___

WestView used to be a charming town. Before the Hex. You could still feel the remains of Wanda's magic. People were still scared, wounds were too fresh.

You quickly found Agatha. She was blissfully living through her illusion. Wanda definitely had style.

You knew Harkness when she was dangerous, now she was weak and vulnerable.

If it was the old you, her neck would snap in a second. But you changed. And she wasn't the one you were searching for.

If Stephen was right you were all fucked.

You followed Agatha to the police station, pawn shop, and her house.

The boy wasn't here yet. You had some time. You built yourself a charming backstory, you pretended to love bad coffee. In a month you were already a citizen of WestView.

What if Stephen was wrong? This happened before. Agatha was protected by her own dreams until the cracks the power of nature itself called for you.

You rushed to your hotel room. You needed protective spells. You were not the only witch in town.

___

Stephen was right. Unfortunately.

Someone knocked on the door, but didn't wait for the answer.

"I thought you could afford a better place."

Stephen was right. You were all fucked.

"I thought you're old enough not to play with food."

Rio laughed at the remark. You almost forgot that sound.  You recognized her immediately. Sure the clothes were different, hair, eyes were greener than you remembered.

There was no point in the book you were holding. You started remembering that spells never worked against Rio.

"What are you doing here?" She noticed your gesture of peace. No fight tonight.

"Making sure that you're keeping the monster on the leash."

"oh, it's so much fun not being a monster in this scenario." Rio smiled like a child who finally got her approval.

"It's not about you." You suddenly felt tired. You had this talk before. Each century you were alive.

"It's about you." Rio chose to come closer.

"Is that a holster under your jacket?"

"Yeah, Agatha is in her Swedish crime show period. You like it?"

Rio got rid of her jacket, which simply disappeared in thin air. Brunette always loved theatricality.

"Sure." You were not planning for her to be in your space. You tried to step aside.

"No, no, no." Rio grabbed your hand. "You wanted to talk, let's talk."

You noticed the green light. No doubt her crown was a reminder of her power. Her cosmic power, her power over you.

"Leave the covenless witch alone." You whispered. Oh, but Rio heard every word. She smirked.

"or else?" you could feel her magic all over you.

You formed the fireball in your palm. Light was dancing in Rio's eyes.

"oh, isn't it our favorite foreplay?" witch mimicked your move with her free hand. Green rose appeared. "I missed this."

She let go of you and offered the flower. You took it.

You started remembering. Once it was like this. Every day. You almost forgot why you were here.

"leave Agatha as she is." You still were looking at the flower. It was flawless. Created by nature itself.

"really?" Rio groaned. "if I had known you'd care about her so much I'd lure her into darkness ages ago."

You could hear the hurt in her voice. It wasn't a distraction from her plan. She turned to the door. You flicked your wrist. Thin line of fire appeared around Rio's neck.

"I can't kill you. But I can definitely slow you down."

"till your sorcerer comes?" Rio laughed. She tilted her head and it was enough for you to hit the wall. If she wanted to you'd never get up again.

"Let's have a deal. You give me one date and I give you one more day of bound covenless witch."

___

This idea was so wrong. With Rio you never had courtship per se. The day you met she stayed with you. It was always about the sparks that amplified the worst in both of you.

You needed to know Rio's plan. You needed to win yourself some time.

This time Rio didn't invite herself In. You opened the door. This time it was a bouquet of flowers that never even existed. No doubt, Rio created them only for you.

This time it was a green suit. Always on brand.

Of course she was driving. It was the most human thing you ever saw her doing.

"Where are we going?"

"We'll drink and watch the wolves howl at the full moon."

"There are no wolves here."

"I brought a few with me."

___

"Why did you leave me?" it was her first question after the awkward silence.

You were sitting on the branches that Rio lowered for you. Pack of white wolves was playing in front of you, occasionally asking for attention.

"Is that important?"

"don't mortals talk about their experiences, share feelings?"

"you're not a mortal."

"tonight I am."

You shrugged. You had to play this game.

"I was tired of being… A villain." whiskey was still burning your throat after all these years.

"I never asked you to."

"you never did. But you sure as hell were reminding me every day of who I was. With you I've forgotten the weight of my choices. With you everything was just a game…"

You felt her touch on your skin. Rio guided you towards her. You remembered this. She kissed you like this before. Many moons like this ago.

She was gentle. Always was. You just forgot it.

"You were never a game."

"And you were always thriving on chaos.",

You stood up. Immediately one of the wolves ran towards you. He was friendly, but like with Rio you were not sure he wasn't trained to pretend.

"Why do you need a covenless witch?"

"Is it important right now? It's always about the balance."

"Right. And a few witches you can take for yourself."

Greens started wrapping around your waist and arms. Rio was calling you. Slowly you let them drag you to her. You used to play like this. You used to allow her this.

"Give me another date and you'll get another day."

___

The next day you went to her house. She recreated the garden you once had. With her powers it was so much easier.

"Remember how we used to play with reality?"

"Yes."

Rio remembered every single of your creations. She was attentive to details. You did play with reality. Both of you. You were luring your enemies into scenarios that could never be real. And after that Rio was feasting on them.

"Exactly like now you're playing with Agatha. You always protected your deal with her."

You preferred this Rio more. With the crown, with the flowers in the dress. It was her element.

"She's an effective killer. That's it."

"And what about the boy?"

"And what about your peaceful life?" Rio squeezed grapes and the wine poured in glasses. She offered you one.

"It is expectedly peaceful."

"Sounds boring. Maybe that's why you're here. With me? Missed the fun?"

What did she want to hear from you? You never cared about fun. You missed her. You missed your lover, your partner, your chosen one. You missed your garden. It was never fun. It was always you destroying everyone with fire.

Rio threw her Chalice on the ground. Wine turned into flowers. Again she was too close. She was behind you. She was seducing you with her breath on your neck.

"Rio…" You tried not to give in so easily. "I'm here because…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the greater good." She was playing with your hair, whispering right into your soul. "It's all about not letting Agatha and the kid get their powers."

Her fingers were studying your heartbeat. She always thought that this curious mortal sound was only for her.

You only inhaled sharply. When you agreed to Stephen's plea you knew all about the risk. But you thought you were stronger than this.

"Let go of me."

When did her fingers travel to your neck? You didn't notice. Your whole body was tingling. Your soul was aching for her. You were alone for so long.

"You don't want this."

Of course you didn't. But Rio had no right to say it out loud.

___

Your third date was an unspoken agreement. You cooked. More for yourself, than for Rio. Old book of recipes reminded you of the hardships of trying to live amongst ordinary people.

"Candles are not lit."  Oh, that smug face. Rio always adored seeing your deadly powers in the most boring situations.

Table was between you this time.  You hoped it would help. It would give you a chance to win some time.

You tilted your head. Instead of candles - the fireplace became playful.  You disobeyed. In a very small detail, but Rio noticed.

This time the silence was longer, heavier. She wasn't eating. she wasn't playing.

"Do you ever miss your mortal family?"

"I do."

"What's it like?"

Rio never respected the concept of privacy. But those were the rules. You had to talk.

"Don't you know? Were you not there when both my husband and daughter died in my arms?"

You stood up for another bottle. Rio followed you to the kitchen.

"Did they… Did they give you what I couldn't?"

"They taught me once again to care about life. Respect the time. They reminded me that you're supposed to exist not only for your own sake."

You didn't admit that you barely remembered their faces. That the pain was almost gone. That for you it was just a fleeting moment. You already didn't remember whether it was real or not.

"Well, I remind everyone exactly this. But with you it's chaos, right?"

You could swear you saw a tear. Was Rio even capable of this? After all the time. all the damage. all the emptiness.

You pulled her closer. You wanted only to remind her that it was never her fault. You desperately wanted to remind her of that. You were clawing deeper and deeper into her. Biting. scratching, kissing whatever skin you could get.

You were tearing the silk. You pushed her against the kitchen aisle. It was always the chaos. But chaos that you wanted and were thriving for.

Now the chaos suddenly wanted to submit. You didn't expect that.

"I missed this." you were murmuring in her ear. You were ready to get on your knees for her. When did your hunger appear again? This time it was different. No burned land, no fallen trees, no skars and marks of struggle.

It was different this time. It took more than a hundred years for Rio to finally feel regret.

You didn't notice how you got into the bedroom. How clothes weren't yours anymore.

She took care of you. Rio always wanted only this.

___

The next day you didn't want to open your eyes. What if Rio wasn't there? Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm here."

Rio was watching you. She looked tense. She was sitting in the armchair, which now resembled the throne. She pointed to the cup of coffee on your bedside table.

"Charming as usual."

"We don't have much time, baby." And there it was. Your nickname. "Kid is coming tonight. We need to be there."

"Oh, no, no. I'm not letting you…"

"It's about the kid. Not a covenless witch. He needs to come with me. And you will make sure it happens. Isn't this what sorcerers want?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you'll have to join the road. Come baby, we don't have much time." she gave you a peck on the cheek. "It's gonna be like the old times."

You sighed. Yeah, this was going to be an adventure. You simply hoped that this night you saw the real Rio. And after this night you would stay the same.

[barcaatthemoon]

"I know I'm not who you wanted to spend the night with, but I am here." Alexia Putellas?

a night alone || alexia putellas x reader ||

You felt like an idiot. No matter what you did, you always seemed to fail miserably with love. Tonight hadn't even really been about finding "true love" or anything of the sort. It was supposed to be a hook up with someone you met on a dating app that Alba told you about. Even over a year after breaking things off with her sister, you and Alba were thick as thieves.

Your date had been cute, and the two of you had hooked up before. Sometime in between tonight and your last hook up, she had found out about your ex. It was wild that Alexia was still fucking things up for you after so long. You were only just getting back to Barcelona after your year-long loan to play at Roma.

A knock on your door pulled you away from the dangerous thought tangent that you were headed down. You had texted Alba about your date being a bust, but you hadn't expected for her to come and see you. "Alba, it really wasn't necessary for you to come all the way down here. It's nothing a bottle of wine and some alone time can't f-, oh Alexia."

"Alba is busy, and I know that I'm not who you wanted to spend the night with, but I am here. You shouldn't drink alone, and neither should I." Alexia held up a bottle that you recognized somewhat fondly. There had been countless nights spend on vacation that neither of you remembered much of aside from some drinks and drunken sex.

"Fine, but I'm making you sleep on the couch," you told her. Alexia looked like she wanted to argue with you on that. You stepped aside to let her in, and almost immediately, she started looking around like she was searching for something. "Benny is at my mother's for now. I'm picking him up on Saturday."

"Who is supposed to cuddle with me on the couch now? You know how I get when I drink." Alexia looked up at you with a pout. It was kind of wild how quickly she shed her 'Captain Alexia' persona with you and turned into 'Ale' the woman you had loved since you could remember.

A few shots in, and the two of you had migrated from the living room into your bedroom. You tried your best to take your makeup off and change into comfortable clothes, coming back to see Alexia in a pair of your shorts and a sports bra already asleep in your bed. You took a makeup wipe to her face and gently wiped away her makeup before you got into bed with her. It wasn't the way you had imagined getting lucky that night, but if you were being honest, you thought this was much better than that.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

A Gilded Cage

The penthouse you're in is beautiful, the closet filled with the finest clothes, the kitchen stocked with your favorite foods, the only problem is; you never asked for this. The Arkham Knight doesn't seem to care. Part One of this series. CW: kidnapping ~1.5k words

You don't know who the Arkham Knight is. You don't know why he kidnapped you from your apartment and locked you away in some penthouse far too fancy for someone with no sway in Gotham.

None of it makes sense. You wouldn't even know his name if you didn't overhear the men dropping off food and necessitates for you talk about him.

They never get too close to you, which eases some of the panic in your throat, but they've only ever spoken to you once. One of the men had dropped a notepad on the marble counter and grumbled something about writing down whatever you need before leaving you to yourself. Being so alone in a gilded cage almost makes you wish they'd say more.

It's not like you haven't tried escaping, but you're on the top floor of some building you only recognized as being in the Diamond District because you can see the glowing symbol of Wayne Tower in the distance. The one time you did try to break down the door, you found out there are in fact guards stationed outside your prison.

You've never been hurt. Never gone hungry or cold. There's a television and more books than you'll ever have time to read. (You try to ignore how many of them are your favorites. It has to be a coincidence.) The kitchen is always stocked and the apartment is always cleaned. (You haven't quite figured out when that happens.) Anything you've ever asked for is delivered and sitting on the glass table when you wake up.

You had only asked for diamonds and pearls once. Curiosity and frustration had gotten the better of you, and when sets of shiny jewels greeted you in the morning, you wanted to faint.

They sit stuffed in a drawer now, and your hands shake when you check to see if they're still there. They sit alongside a note written in messy script, the one asking if you'd prefer a dress or a suit to match the choker made of sapphires. Or perhaps something to match the headpiece encrusted with rubies?

You're starting to think being alone for so long is making you crazy. You wake up sometimes at night, shifting against the soft sheets and feathered pillows and your heart neatly stops at the glowing eyes in the doorway.

Fear stops your voice from coming out and by the time you've worked up the courage to hit the lamp, whatever it was is gone. He's gone. The first time, you told yourself it was a nightmare. The second, a trick of the light. But the third, when you woke to the rough texture of gloves tracing the curve of your jaw, that was real.

You had frozen. Eyes shut tight and heart racing. The touch was gentle, almost non-existent, and if the near silent, rhythmic breathing hadn't reached your ears, you would have believed it to be a dream.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, your kidnappers' fingers brushing your face while you pretended to sleep. The feeling disappears eventually, and you fall back asleep. You lie to yourself when morning comes, that it was something you imagined.

You've lost count of the days, the weeks, it's been like this. You're not even sure what to call the situation. You're not a pet. You're not a hostage. A prisoner? Yes. But prisoners are never treated so lavishly without a reason.

Curiosity gets the better of you. How could it not when 'why' always haunts your thoughts? You pretend to be asleep. Night after night, you wait for him to come again. But it's like he knows. He's aware that you're waiting.

So, you write on the pristine notepad. You ask to be let go.

There's nothing on the glass table when you wake up, but the notepad is empty of words. The day seems to pass in a haze.

By the time night comes again, you're livid. You'd throw things at the glass enclosing the balcony if it wasn't something you tried already.

You stalk your way out of the bedroom, intent on making coffee and staying up until you can finally face the person who's trapped you here.

Your bravado disappears at the sight of the figure standing in the middle of the room.

The glowing lights of the city illuminates his silhouette. The military style gear, the eerily familiar glowing eyes, the guns holstered at his thighs. All your words and curses and questions stick to your tongue.

"You can't go home," a modulated voice tells you.

"Why?" You breathe out, eyes darting over his figure. You're not scared. You can't explain it, but as frightening as he should be, as terrifying as this situation should be, he doesn't feel unsafe.

He doesn't answer, doesn't move. If it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders, you'd think he wasn't human. Silence falls for a longer than you know what to do with, "This your home," he says, voice even and factual.

"This isn't a home," your protest, anger flaring, "this is a prison cell!"

He steps towards you, menacing and threatening as he hisses, "This is nothing like a cell. You know nothing. You're safe here. Provided for. I've given you everything you could need."

"I'm alone here!" You snap out, despite your better judgment.

"I'll get you a pet," he says firmly.

"I don't have anyone to talk to," You respond harshly.

"I'll send someone to keep you company," he responds easily, like placating a child. But you don't miss his hands clench and unclench.

"I want to go outside," You answer, and you hate how your voice pitches into a whine, a plea, "I want fresh air."

He pauses, studying you, "I'll figure something out."

"Why are you doing this?" You finally ask, tears pricking your eyes. You don't want to cry, don't want to show him any weakness, but you're so tired and he's the first person you've talked to in ages. "I'm not anyone special. You don't gain anything by keeping me here. Please. Please, I wanna go home."

He tenses, then steps towards you steadily. You flinch when he stops just in front of you, turning and ducking your head. He takes your chin in his hand and guides your face back up, carefully wiping the tears that drip down your cheeks.

"You are special. More than you could know," he says quietly, like it's a secret. He says your name softly, like it's important, "You're going to stay here."

"I don't want to," You choke out between tears. He just doesn't acknowledge it, just keeps soaking up your cries with the pads of his glove.

You stay like that until your tears dry up and your body feels shaky. He exhales softly and tilts his head down, resting his helmet against your forehead. You would be eye to eye, you realize, if not for the mask.

"You're going to stay here," he repeats gently.

"Why?" You ask, voice weak.

He pulls back, his hand hesitating against your face before reaching for his helmet. He removes it with a practiced motion, and your whole world freezes.

Your breath catches in your lungs and your heart screams JasonJasonJason.

He doesn't try to explain. You don't have the words to ask. "You're going to stay here," he tells you again, voice low and careful.

"But-" You start, eyes darting over his face, the 'J' branded into his cheek.

He says your name, demanding and firm, "You're staying."

You swallow the rest of your words, and he nods in approval, "I'll get you what you asked for, okay?"

The helmet is back on before you even finished your bewildered nod, gaze locked on him. "Good," he murmurs, voice unrecognizable behind the mask. He's moving away, walking towards the door, leaving you.

You grab his arm, panicked, "Wait–"

He pulls your hand from his arm gently, "I'll come back."

"You haven't explained anything–" You try again, desperate and confused.

"You don't need to understand anything. You just need to stay here, tell me what you want, and let me take care of everything else, alright?" The Arkham Knight– Jason tells you.

You nod weakly, letting your hand drop back to your side.

"Good. Get some sleep," his voice sounds empty through the modulator.

"Will you come back tomorrow?" You ask, voice breaking.

He wavers by the door, "I come back everyday," he admits eventually and sees himself out the door of your prison.

You all but stumble to the plush couch and collapse as the door locks behind him. Jason is alive. Jason kidnapped you. Jason's held you in this luxury apartment for weeks. Jason left you jewels worth more than your entire savings account. Jason is alive. Jason visits you every night. Jason is alive.

Jason is alive. But you're still trapped. Still stuck in a cage with no explanation why and no matter how pretty it is, he's still locked you in here. But it's Jason. Jason wouldn't hurt you. He has to have a good reason.

The thought haunts you until you drift off, drawn to sleep by the soft velvet against your skin. You miss it, when the door cracks open again, and a down blanket is drawn over your body. You don't even twitch, when scarred hands start to trace a familiar path over your face.

Part Two

[pcr-alice]

DPxDC - Subtle Signs

also on AO3

Danny slipped through the shadows quickly, trusting the alarms to cover the noise of his footsteps. He still wasn’t fully used to having his wakizashi hooked to his back again after all this time. It was throwing off his balance. Subtly, but enough to matter. He had considered leaving it behind when he had to run (again). But seeing as he couldn’t exactly get rid of the...gift...his time with the Fentons had given him, he might as well keep the one from his time with the League of Assassins, too. Who would have guessed a sword from a literal death cult would end up being one of his least death-touched possessions.

He reached what remained of the entrance to the now fully crippled GIW facility and paused. There was something wrong. The smallest pressure in his ears, the faintest blur through the sky, the slightest feeling that someone – multiple someones – had entered his space. He crouched further into the shadows and mentally mapped out several escape routes.

What he wasn’t expecting was for one of those someones to drop from the sky. Nor for them to be dressed in bright colors, nor for them to be masked, nor for them to –

“Damian?”

The name was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Directly between two blares of the alarm. Clearly loud enough for that someone to have heard, judging by the way they jerked into a fighting stance and stared directly at his hiding place. They drew a katana that Danny would recognize anywhere and leveled it at him aggressively.

“Show yourself!”

Two green slits appeared from the darkness next to the collapsed entryway. Damian tensed, shifting into a more agile stance and subtly tapping his wrist comm for backup. The glowing eyes shifted, as if the head they were attached to was moving. They inched forward toward the light but didn’t cross the threshold. A single hand extended from the darkness, clenching a long, thin sheathed blade. A wakizashi, judging by the length and curve, with minimal decoration on the mounting save for...

“Danyal?”

Damian dropped his guard, katana dipping to point at the ground in front of him. A figure crept into the light, taking up their own relaxed stance, sheathed blade still held in their off hand. Their eyes were bright Lazarus green, and their hair was subtly glowing white, barely visible under a hood. Their foot was slightly out of position, arm just barely low of where it should be, all still ingrained in muscle memory to perfectly complement their mismatched heights and Damian’s own style while fighting at his side. There was no doubt. That face was etched into his memory, his very being. He would recognize it anywhere. This was Danyal.

Then the wakizashi was drawn. Danyal’s green eyes flicked to Damian’s right in panic just as he heard the smallest crunch of dirt. He tilted his katana up in front of his face and raised his other hand to his side firmly, signaling Father and Grayson to stay back.

They did. But they spread out to better form a perimeter around this unknown (to them) armed (more than he seemed) potential threat (if he wanted to be). And they watched intently, ready to pick up on even the smallest detail. He would have to be cautious. His subtle head shift let the others know he knew Cain and Brown just landed on his other side. Danyal’s eye flick meant he saw them, too.

“How are you here, Danyal? You died.”

“You should know better than most, Damian. Death is not always final.”

Damian was off. Cass noticed it immediately. His stance was different. He was tense in a way she’d never seen him before. His words were hesitant, and when he did speak, his fingers twitched around his katana’s grip. He gave them a small flick with his hand, signaling for them to stay back, then took a step forward. The other boy – Danyal, she presumed – followed his lead step for step, never dropping his guard, even if his stance was slightly imperfect. His hands twitched even more than Damian’s.

Then he flinched and took a step back, eyes snapping to where Batman had taken a step forward. Damian scowled angrily.

“Stay back, Father!”

Cass hadn’t heard that much venom in his voice for many years. Nor had he ever broken codename protocol while they were in costume. Nor had he ever fidgeted or been this nervous. His emotions were strong, barely restrained, confused and angry and somehow eager. He wanted to charge forward, but for what she didn’t know. He was barely holding himself back.

The other boy was unfamiliar, so she had no reference. She couldn’t even see his full face. But he had to be even more nervous than Damian with the way his whole body squirmed minutely when his hands twitched. His anger was colder, deeper, an undercurrent compared to Damian’s storm. There was no confusion, not even at ‘Father’, but there was fear, a suffocating amount of it. He was unsure of himself. Wanting to charge like Damian, but wanting to run perhaps even more. The indecision left him rooted to the spot.

“Why are you here, Danyal?”

“Tying up some loose ends. You?”

“Investigating the destruction of government facilities on behalf of the League.”

Danyal tensed at that.

“The Justice League,” Damian was quick to clarify.

Danyal took that even worse. He curled into himself, the fear overwhelming all his other emotions, his eyes going narrow and glowing a brighter, somehow harsher green. Cass spared a glance back to Damian, whose twitching had spread to his non-sword hand now. Worry was breaking through both his anger and confusion. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her look back to Danyal, who had begun to slide back towards the shadows.

“Danyal, wait!” Damian stepped forward, and to her surprise Danyal did in fact stop moving. “Why are you running?”

He stopped twitching entirely and stared Damian down.

“I will not be taken by either of your Leagues.”

That was confirmation that he was familiar with the League of Assassins, perhaps a former member like Damian.

“The League of Assassins has been dismantled. I can guarantee the Justice League will not harm you.”

“Yet you are here on their behalf.”

“I do not understand, Danyal.”

He wasn’t alone in that. Cass risked a glance to the others. Steph was firmly at her side, waiting for a signal to get involved. Bruce was tense, confused but calculating, processing the apparent familiarity not just with the League, but with Damian and his identity. Dick was clearly confused too, but the concerned for his little brother was even clearer.

“There is much you don’t understand, Damian.”

“Then tell me.”

Damian’s hand gave the smallest of twitches before he charged forward at Danyal, who charged back as if he were expecting it. But this wasn’t one of his normal attack patterns. He was slower and more rigid. This wasn’t right. She raised her arm to Spoiler’s chest, stopping her from joining the battle, her fist clenched to signal the others to hold. Spoiler glanced at her, confused, but stayed at her side. Batman and Nightwing heeded her signal as well after taking a few steps forward.

Their blades clashed as they pressed together, faces nearly touching. Cass swore she saw Danyal’s lips move briefly before they pushed each other back, both already angling for their next attack. What followed was a set of perfect strikes and parries, one for one, back and forth, all much below what she knew Damian’s speed and strength to be. All telegraphed well in advance. Until Danyal pivoted unexpectedly, twisting directly into the path of Damian’s katana.

She saw Damian’s shock, his fear, saw him try to pull back his strike, but it was too late. Danyal raised an arm to shield himself from the blow that was about to cleave into his flesh, but he wasn’t worried. Wasn’t surprised or scared, just...sad?

The katana didn’t hit. A bright green armor plate flashed into existence on Danyal’s arm, and Damian’s blade bounced off it with a clang, vibrating through his arm and tipping him off balance. Danyal dropped his weight and kicked forward, hitting Damian in the chest and knocking him backwards much farther than expected.

Damian twisted in the air and rolled as he hit the ground, leaping back into a defensive stance. Cass saw no anger, just surprise and worry and more confusion. She stomped her foot and shook her fist, insisting that everyone keep holding back. This brought Danyal’s attention to her.

His eyes flicked over to pierce into her. She felt seen, and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her spine. He didn’t look at her with any emotion she expected, merely annoyance. He flicked his eyes back to Damian after sparing her a second at most, and then he was empty. No emotion at all. Nothing. Cass gasped. She felt Steph press against her arm gently, a question. She pressed back in response, still holding her fist. Steph placed a hand on her back, silently grounding her.

With Danyal not giving her anything, she shifted her focus back to Damian. He tilted his katana to look at the blade, which she could tell even from a distance had been greatly dulled where it had made contact with the phantom armor. When he pulled his hand away from his ribs, she could see small drops of frost fall to the ground.

“Danyal...when did –”

“I have never set foot in the Lazarus Pits.”

Damian dropped his arms to his side. Cass could see more shock on him now than any emotion she’d read on him ever before. He’d never left himself so open and unguarded at any time she could remember. Despite all that – or perhaps because of it – his hands kept twitching.

“How…”

“I told you, Damian. You don’t even understand just how little you don’t understand.”

Despite not reading any nervousness from Danyal – no emotions at all – his hands kept twitching.

“Then tell me.”

Damian’s voice was soft, more vulnerable than it had ever been. His off hand kept twitching in the same pattern, over and over.

“I can’t.”

Danyal took a step backwards toward the shadows. Damian stepped forward and yelled.

“Danyal, please! I want to understand!”

But he took another step backward, his own off hand twitching in the same pattern as Damian’s.

“Goodbye, Damian.”

Damian took another step forward and raised his hands to his side in a peaceful gesture.

“I will understand, Danyal.”

He switched to his first language, the one he had spoken as a child, and pleaded.

“I swear it on the first star’s light, on the first bird’s song.”

Danyal flinched mid-step. And his facade shattered. Emotions burst through stronger than before. Scared and exhausted and angry, but the tiniest sliver of hope pushing past the wariness. His head tilted up, letting the light pierce the shadow of his hood to reveal bright white hair that somehow shifted under its cloth covering. And his face looked nearly identical to Damian’s.

His flurry of emotions slowly, excruciatingly slowly, steadied as the tension in his body loosened. She watched him take a deep breath and let it out, emotions shifting into pure determination. His off hand twitched again and – no, not a twitch!

They had been signaling to each other.

And then they were charging again. Cass dropped her arm and wrapped it around Steph’s, who tensed at the two boys’ movement, but relaxed as Cass leaned against her. Batman and Nightwing did charge. It was clear they wouldn’t make it in time, even if Danyal’s speed weren’t obviously enhanced.

The boys flipped their swords to hold them backhand and twisted them such that the dull end faced forward. They collided harshly, sword arms clasping around each others shoulders. Danyal knocked Damian back a step, but they held each other tightly, neither allowing the other to fall. Batman and Nightwing stuttered to a stop several feet away and stared in surprised confusion as the boys raised their off hands to cradle each others necks and press their foreheads together.

“I missed you, Brother.”

[ilovedthestars]

A thought I’ve been having: While it's important to recognize the long history of many current queer identities (and the even longer history of people who lived outside of the straight, cis, allo “norm”) I think it's also important to remember that a label or identity doesn't have to be old to be, for lack of a better word, real.

This post that i reblogged a little while ago about asexuality and its history in the LGBTQ+ rights movement and before is really good and really important. As i've thought about it more, though, it makes me wonder why we need to prove that our labels have "always existed." In the case of asexuality, that post is pushing back against exclusionists who say that asexuality was “made up on the internet” and is therefore invalid. The post proves that untrue, which is important, because it takes away a tool for exclusionists.

But aromanticism, a label & community with a lot of overlap & solidarity with asexuality, was not a label that existed during Stonewall and the subsequent movement. It was coined a couple decades ago, on internet forums. While the phrasing is dismissive, it would be technically accurate to say that it was “made up on the internet.” To be very clear, I’m not agreeing with the exclusionists here—I’m aromantic myself. What I’m asking is, why does being a relatively recently coined label make it any less real or valid for people to identify with?

I think this emphasis on historical precedent is what leads to some of the attempts to label historical figures with modern terminology. If we can say someone who lived 100 or 1000 years ago was gay, or nonbinary, or asexual, or whatever, then that grants the identity legitimacy. but that's not the terminology they would have used then, and we have no way of knowing how, or if, any historical person's experiences would fit into modern terminology.

There's an element of "the map is not the territory" here, you know? Like this really good post says, labels are social technologies. There's a tendency in the modern Western queer community to act like in the last few decades the "truth" about how genders and orientations work has become more widespread and accepted. But that leaves out all the cultures, both historical and modern, that use a model of gender and sexuality that doesn't map neatly to LGBTQ+ identities but is nonetheless far more nuanced than "there are two genders, man and woman, and everyone is allo and straight." Those systems aren’t any more or less “true” than the system of gay/bi/pan/etc and straight, cis and trans, aro/ace and allo.

I guess what I’m saying is, and please bear with me here, “gay” people have not always existed. “Nonbinary” people have not always existed. “Asexual” people have not always existed. But people who fell in love with and had sex with others of the same gender have always existed. People who would not have identified themselves as either men or women have always existed. People who didn’t prioritize sex (and/or romance) as important parts of their lives have always existed. In the grand scheme of human existence, all our labels are new, and that’s okay. In another hundred or thousand years we’ll have completely different ways of thinking about gender and sexuality, and that’ll be okay too. Our labels can still be meaningful to us and our experiences right now, and that makes them real and important no matter how new they are.

We have a history, and we should not let it be erased. But we don’t need a history for our experiences and ways of describing ourselves to be real, right now.

[star-sim]

sweater ☆ riki nishimura

☆ non-idol! bf! riki x fem! reader ☆ summary: when riki doesn't recognize a sweater that you're wearing, he gets insecure. ☆ genre: fluff, hurt-comfort ☆ warning(s)? insecurities and cheating briefly mentioned ☆ word count: 1.0k ☆ reblogs and comments are appreciated! also this was such a big trend in 2020 in the haikyuu fandom my god

“What the fuck, dude?!”

You head whipped around to see your boyfriend frowning on your bed.

It was another one of those nights.

Riki and you would stay together all night, either to study or just fool around. It was deeper into the night now. You had just gotten out of the shower, changing into one of your dad’s oversized sweaters that miscellaneously made its way into your laundry. You liked the way that it fit, draping over you comfortably.

You were peacefully doing your skincare routine when Riki’s outburst interrupted you.

With half-applied moisturizer, you cocked a brow at him, looking at your boyfriend over you shouldes.

“What happened?”

The wide scowl that broke out on Riki’s features was alarming. His brows knitted together and his lips curled. Riki let out an offended scoff, throwing his phone aside and jumping to his feet. He paced toward you with vigor, grabbing onto your shoulders.

“You know what you did, and you’re just going to act like you did nothing–?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Riki?” You clutched boyfriend’s shoulders, slowly pushing him away.

He didn’t move. His large hands squeezed your shoulders, his face contorting. Anyone would think that Riki’s face was painted with anger, but you knew better.

He was confused.

And distraught.

Riki sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, fingers brushing against the hem of your sweater.

For him, the issue was your sweater.

He’d never seen it before. 

These days, Riki was feeling insecure.

All throughout high school, you were endlessly popular. Riki would be lying if he said he never felt a tad insecure. There were so many guys that still pined after you. So many guys that were ten times smarter than him. So many guys that were endlessly kinder than him. So many guys that had perfect temperaments and maturity. After all, why would you, the prettiest, smartest, strongest, and most perfect girl in the entire world, want to stay with someone as crass and needy as him?

Sometimes, words got to him. Those that knew about your relationship talked. And they never seemed to fully approve of the two of you being together.

She deserves better, was always the first thing that came out of their mouths.

And sometimes Riki agreed.

The thought of someone else holding you, someone touching you and kissing your lips, someone getting to gaze into your eyes and whisper those three words from their heart to you made Riki feel sick to his stomach. 

But he couldn’t help but feel inferior. Maybe someone else would be better for you.

So when he saw you wearing a sweater that he didn’t recognize, Riki’s insecurities got the best of him. You didn’t wear sweaters often, and if you did, it was always his. His sweaters were distinctly too big for you, always being oversized.

Which was why Riki’s mind ran wild.

Where did you get that oversized sweater if it wasn’t Riki’s?

And more importantly, who did it belong to?

“I know I’m not good enough for you,” Riki grumbled, “But you could’ve told me before you went off with another guy.”

“Wait, what?”

Riki looked down. If he looked you in the eye, he’d probably start crying. 

He didn’t respond.

“Riki, what are you talking about?” Your hand gently came up to grasp his cheek, which he pulled away from. “‘Went off with another guy’? What are you even saying?”

When he finally looked at you, you saw the hot tears that were lining his eyes. He pushed your hand away, quickly wiping his eyes.

You pushed him onto the bed, sinking down onto his lap. You caressed his cheek. 

“I’m not going to leave you, Baby,” you said. “I mean, there’s no one that I could ever like as much as you.”

You brought your fingers up to his eyes, gently pressing his eyes shut. Then, you leaned in to kiss his eyelids, then his temples. With your fist, you softly knocked on his head. “I always wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Riki didn’t say anything. Instead, he melted into your touch, sliding his arm around your torso, pulling you closer to him. 

“I love you, Riki, I hope you know that” you said into his ear. “So I don’t want you to cry anymore.”

“I wasn’t crying,” Riki mumbled against your shoulder.

“Sure, Baby,” you patted the back of his head. 

After a few moments of silence, you asked, “What made you think that I would leave you?”

“Your sweater. I hate it.”

You cocked a brow. “Why?”

“Looks like some other dude’s.”

You shared another silence.

You let out a small, ‘ah.’ Getting off of Riki’s lap, you fingered the hem of your sweater. Riki watched you as you disappeared into your closet, before reappearing with another sweater. Making sure that he was watching you, you began to pull the polyester fabric over your shoulders.

“Wh-What are you doing?!” Riki rushed to cover his eyes.

“Relax, you big baby.” 

Riki hid behind his hands, watching from the cracks in his fingers. Pulling off the sweater that you were currently wearing, you shrugged on another sweater.

It had blue and black stripes, reaching down to the middle of your thighs.

This time, Riki recognized it. It was his.

“There,” you gave him a boxy smile. “Even though that sweater was my dad’s, if you don’t like it, I won’t wear it.”

Riki’s jaw dropped, before waving his hands out in front of him. “Nonono!” he spluttered. “I was being stupid. You can wear whatever you want!”

You put your finger on your chin. “Hmmm, but I think I like your sweaters more.”

Years into the future, you never let Riki live down the fact that he got jealous over a sweater. Riki didn’t care, though. The only memory attached to that little incident worth living for was when you kissed him and said, “I love you.”

[ariaste]

So excited to announce my next book!!! If you've never read any of my books before, no worries--this is a standalone, so you can jump right in without any extra context. (And for fans of my previous books, great news! This book is set in the same world, and it's even in the same region as the two novellas SOME BY VIRTUE FALL and THE LIGHTS OF YSTRAC'S WOOD, so you'll recognize some familiar worldbuilding :D) SUMMARY: Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam still hasn’t forgiven the bastard. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of small disappointments and misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. But then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance... and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.

This book might be for you if:

You like enemies-to-lovers but you think it would be improved by being one-sided and meanwhile the other person is living through a "hopelessly yearning for childhood crush" trope

you like it when two people are so, so, so stupid that they've been fucking for 10 years and Person A hasn't figured out that Person B is in love with him, and Person B hasn't realized that Person A doesn't even know about his feelings

You know how fucking hard it is to Do The Work In Therapy and you want some catharsis about it

you want to read about an imperfect, truly difficult person who still gets loved, because being perfect is not a requirement to deserve affection and care

you know that apologizing for wronging someone doesn't just magically take away the bad feelings and automatically repair the relationship, and you want to read about someone having to do the extra steps that come after the apology

this one's for the wlw: fat harvest goddess milf. my gift to u

you like gods who don't have anything better to do than stick their noses into human business

when you see a gorgeous man holding an infant, it takes you out at the knees

you like queernorm fantasy AND small-town gossip, and you find the intersection of the two delicious and intriguing

a religion based on pre-Christian Brythonic England. That is, they've got henges and standing stones instead of churches and altars. it's cool

plant magic!!!!!

"god of temptation and evil" actually "god of self-care and personal boundaries and taking responsibility for the consequences you consented to".

Stay tuned for the cover reveal next month, when general preorders will go live! If you're already excited and you want to make sure you don't miss that announcement, you can sign up for my newsletter or join my Discord server: https://linktr.ee/alexandrarowland.

And if you'd like to preorder an autographed copy from me directly, just fill out this form! :) (Signal boosts are very much appreciated!)

[brokenmenswhore]

betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace

pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader

series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark

chapter warnings: none

a/n: this wasn’t going to be a series but it just kept getting longer and longer so i had to split it into parts! so let me know if you like it i have more! this is for all the girlies who can’t decide between all these insatiable men.

this is mainly aegon but what’s the harm in indulging in all three?

the mentions of brothel work will make a lot more sense later! i don’t know anything about cregan’s parents but for this they sucked and now they’re dead :)

series masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“How could you do such a thing?” your brother yelled, intruding into your chambers, anger evident on his face.

“What are you on about now, Cregan?” you sighed.

“We swore an oath of loyalty to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and you,” he spat, poking your chest, “suddenly decide to betrothe yourself to Prince Aemond? To the enemy?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking up at him with genuine misunderstanding. “What?”

“Don’t act stupid with me, sister,” Cregan warned.

“I am not betrothed to Aemond Targaryen,” you spoke plainly, “and I do not believe I have the liberty to choose who I am to marry, as our father so made clear.”

Cregan backed away, noticing your genuine concern and confusion. His sister had never met Aemond Targaryen, and as Lord of his house, Cregan would have been asked of a betrothal for his sister.

“‘Tis being spread across the realm,” Cregan said, “that you are to wed Aemond Targaryen and secure the North’s allegiance to Aegon the Usurper- the very allegiance that we have already pledged to the rightful queen.”

“I dare say you should know me better than to think me willing to sully our name in such a heinous way, brother,” you replied, “if this is the news they bring, it is false. We must clear this up at once.”

“I’m trusting you, sister,” Cregan warned, “with the rumors about you, I doubt this will be taken as just a jest from the dragons.”

He didn’t need to clarify what he was speaking of. For months, there were whispers of you frequenting brothels, learning about, and trying to achieve, your own pleasure. They were true, of course, but your brother had no need to know it.

You were kept on a tight leash most of your life, ridiculously sheltered, never having the opportunity to learn about the pleasures of life or your own body. Your brother was never one for frequenting brothels, but his friends were, and growing up, you would often follow them in the dark, stunned by the atmosphere of the whorehouses.

The women in these places were free, full of pleasure, and unashamed of their bodies. They allowed themselves to indulge without boundaries or judgement. You became enamored with such things.

You soon learned that these women made their wages from whoring, which only sparked your interest even more. Though being a Stark came with privileges, when your brother became Lord of Winterfell, he promoted himself as a working man, always assisting in matters pertaining to The Wall. You always felt like using Stark coin meant taking from Cregan, and you wanted to make your own way in the world. You loved being a Stark, but you loved being someone with no expectations or labels as well. You only worked a few nights per moon at one particular brothel that only allowed you clients who would not recognize you. You had your own coin, no name, and the ability to explore pleasure like never before. You were still a Stark in reality, however, so you knew to be careful, but the alternative lifestyle allowed you to have confidence in carrying yourself, rather than needing the help of your House or a husband.

Cregan had hounded you about the rumors for weeks, reminding you that as a lady of an esteemed house, you had certain duties, and certain privileges were off limits. He also reminded you that you would have much trouble finding a husband if you did not remain untouched.

You contested that it was unfair for him to have the freedom to seek out brothels, but it was looked down upon for you to do just the same. You didn’t fight too hard, though, so as not to cause suspicion that the rumors were true.

“Those rumors are cruel, and you and I both know it,” you retorted, “if they think me a whore, it should only fend them off of believing in this Targaryen lie so easily.”

“You are too strong-willed for your own good, sister,” Cregan sighed, turning on his heels and exiting your chambers.

✶

“It is not true,” Cregan pleaded, “my sister has never even met your uncles. She claims it to be false information spread by the king, and I believe her. My house is still with you.”

Jacaerys nodded his head, choosing to believe his friend. The moment the news of the alleged betrothal hit Dragonstone, Jace returned to Winterfell, eager to hear that his friend had not betrayed him. “I was not even aware you had a sister.”

“She is not around much,” Cregan explained, “she is much too independent to allow me any sense of control over her that does not directly impact the happenings of our House.”

“You think her too independent for marriage?” Jace questioned.

“I think her too independent for me to do that to any poor man,” Cregan laughed, “but I think she would agree to it. If it benefitted the Stark name, of course.”

Jace nodded, looking out over Winterfell as he thought. “My uncle Aemond may very well make good on this announcement,” he alleged, “this news may be a warning toward your house.”

“Meaning?” Cregan asked for clarification.

“Meaning that he may very well intend to marry your sister and force your hand in their favor, no matter what it may require.”

Cregan scoffed. “I am not scared of Aemond Targaryen, or his dragons.”

“Is a marriage to your sister the only way my uncles will be able to force your support?” Jace inquired, turning toward Cregan.

“Likely so,” Cregan answered, “but if Aemond Targaryen tries to force my sister’s hand in marriage, then I shall pity him more than I wish him dead.”

“Allow me to take her hand, then,” Jace offered, “lock away all options for my uncles. Aemond is nothing if not a properly dutiful man. A psychopath, yes, but a properly dutiful psychopath.”

“No,” is all Cregan said before turning back toward the view.

“And why not?”

“You do not want to wed my sister, Jacaerys, it would only be more strife for you.”

“It would solidify the North’s allegiance to my mother and dismiss any way for The Greens to try and steal it.”

Cregan pondered for a moment. Jacaerys was an ally, yes, but was also one of his closest friends, and he did not relish in the thought of Jacaerys being wed to his sister. He also knew how stubborn you could be, and he knew it would be more of a burden on Jace than anything. One thing was certain: he would rather have you wed Jacaerys than Aemond Targaryen.

Cregan and Jacaerys caught you out in the courtyard, snow sticking to your hair as it fell, watching with admiration as the Night’s Watch practiced their swordsmanship.

“She has always wanted to learn,” Cregan told Jacaerys, “but not a one of them will allow it.”

They stepped closer before Cregan called your name. You turned to him, catching his gaze before turning back to the Night’s Watch, intentionally ignoring his calling.

He called you repeatedly until you sighed and stood up, marching over to him.

“What could not have waited, brother?” you asked, bothered, “you can see I am otherwise occupied.”

“They will never let you wield a blade, sister, you were not occupied.”

“I quite enjoy watching the men in uniform, thank you very much,” you responded, “I would call myself occupied when watching such things.”

You knew the comment would piss him off, and you were not in the mood to be scolded by whatever he would say.

“This is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen’s first born son,” Cregan said, motioning toward Jacaerys.

You gave Jace a quick smile before turning back to Cregan. “Okay?”

“You are to wed him in a fortnight.”

“Pardon?” you scoffed, “and to who do you think you speak?”

“If you are not already betrothed, I do not see the issue,” Cregan stated.

“You still do not believe me, do you? You would truly force my hand to prove it was not already previously forced?”

“This will secure our oath to the True Queen.”

“And what of my decisions? Are you to make them all for me now?” you fought, “you promised me it would not be like it was with father, Cregan.”

Your words hit him hard. Your father was controlling and manipulative, constantly taking away your free will in favor of the choices he thought best for Winterfell.

“I do not wish for it to be,” Cregan spoke, his voice now more intimate, “but I fear The Greens may make it so. Please trust me, Y/N.”

You exchanged a long glance before you shifted your gaze to Jacaerys, who smiled at you warmly, and then you returned back to Cregan. He was right, if The Greens wanted this allegiance bad enough, they had the power (and the dragons) to come get it themselves. “Okay.”

Cregan sighed in relief, straightening his posture and smiling. “Lovely,” he spoke, “I suppose we shall begin preparations tomorrow. The sooner it is official, the better.”

Cregan left, off to attend to his duties, leaving you alone with Jacaerys.

“He did not tell me he had a sister,” Jacaerys said.

“He does not often speak of me unless necessary,” you responded, “I often think he wishes I was much different. Less vocal, perhaps.”

Jacaerys smiled. “Why would it be such a terrible trait?”

“I do not exist in a world in which my voice holds weight, My Prince. I admit, it would be easier on Cregan if I was not so intent on using it anyway.”

“I think a voice unused is a voice wasted,” Jacaerys started, “and I think it would be a shame for yours to go unheard. I think it too pretty.”

You blushed at his comment. “You flatter me, My Prince, but it is unnecessary. I have already agreed to wed you. You do not owe me flattery.”

“I do not flatter you because it is what you are owed,” Jace explained, “I flatter you because you are pretty enough to be flattered.”

It was a genuine compliment, and one you had never heard before. The men at the brothels often complimented you, but it was out of pure lust, never out of the adoration you felt now.

You and Jacaerys became somewhat close over the next few days, spending most of your days attempting to get to know one another. You showed him some parts of Winterfell that Cregan hadn’t, nothing of the brothels, but your favorite spots in the woods, and the cave you so often ran to for solace.

“This is my favorite place in the world,” you told Jace, watching him look up at the ice formations atop the cave, “because of this.” You gestured to a giant hot spring in the ground.

“How does such a thing develop in such a cold environment?” Jacaerys asked.

“I do not know,” you admitted, “but I’m rather glad it did.”

Jacaerys watched you smile as you spoke about your favorite place, your eyes lighting up as you bent down to run your fingertips through the water. He stepped closer to you, causing you to stand up and meet his eye level.

“I think I quite like Winterfell,” he nearly whispered, tentatively placing his hands on your waist, nervous that he was overstepping.

“The cold looks good on you, My Prince,” you said, eye contact never breaking.

Jacaerys moved his face closer to yours slowly, giving you ample opportunity to stop him or back away, but you didn’t bite.

You appreciated him taking his time, but he was taking all too long. “Fucks sake, Jace,” you said, grabbing either side of his face in your hands and pulling him into a kiss. Your lips moulded perfectly together, the grip on your hips tightening slightly as your bodies were now pressed together.

Jacaerys broke the kiss first, taking a moment to breathe. “I need to return home to Dragonstone first thing to update my mother. I promise to return to you as soon as I may.”

You pressed your forehead against his. “You better.”

✶

Jacaerys was only gone two nights when you heard the intense whooshing that could only be caused by the wings of a dragon hitting the wind. He’s back already? you thought, looking into the sky to pinpoint Vermax. You spotted the wingspan in the distance, but something was off. The wingspan was too large. In fact, the wingspan was astoundingly large. The sheer size of the dragon was quickly noticed by onlookers within the castle walls, everyone turning their heads to sky. This is not Vermax. Something was wrong.

You stood atop a castle wall, making you the closest in the castle to the dragon, as her bronze and green feet gripped a platform atop the castle walls that was often used for catapults. She was obscenely close to you, nearly knocking you down from the wind force of her wings falling next to her body. You stepped back to give her some space, one of her eyes being the size of almost your entire body. She was beautiful, but her size would have intimidated even Cregan.

Her rider jumped down next to her, ducking under a wing to approach you. It was a face you had never seen before, but you were smart enough to know that there was only one person alive with staple silver hair and only one eye.

You wanted to make a witty comment about your ‘marriage betrothal,’ but the closer he got, the more you realized that although you had strong feelings about what he did, you had never actually met him, and you did not know what to say. You, however, refused to ever be rendered speechless.

“Couldn’t have landed a little further away, My Prince?” you asked as his footsteps became closer and closer, stopping a good ten feet away from you.

“She has a mind of her own, My Lady,” he responded, standing tall with both hands behind his back in proper stance.

“I would think so, she is a living creature.”

Aemond smirked. “I presume you know why I’ve come?”

“I know not of what you want, My Prince.”

“I believe you do. I did not announce a betrothal to jest, My Lady.”

You were slightly taken aback by the fact that he knew who you were so quickly. Even men at the brothels could not tell it was you- you feared there was something about you that gave it away. You quickly remembered you were adorned with the profile of a wolf head in steel, and you relaxed a bit.

“You did not announce a betrothal on anyone’s account but your own,” you fought, “I did not agree to such things and I will not agree to such things. What was your intent, My Prince? To tell me via raven that we are to be wed and anticipate I welcome you with open arms? I do not even know you.” Your tongue was becoming looser and looser, but you were growing angry. What right did he have to suggest you would agree to a betrothal he told the realm about before even asking you? You had never met this man before, and this was your only connection. He almost ruined your relationship with your brother, as well as your brother’s relationship with Rhaenyra and her family.

“I have received word that you are to marry my nephew Jacaerys,” he stated. You thought he would continue his sentence, but it ended there as he awaited a response.

“And?”

“And? My Lady, you are too disagreeable. You are to ride to King’s Landing with me as we prepare the terms of our marriage.”

“I will do no such thing,” you spat.

Aemond sighed, taking a few steps closer to you, but still leaving a few feet between your bodies.

“You will accompany me to King’s Landing, or you will watch Vhagar burn your home.”

You stared at him, searching his eye for any hint that the threat may be empty, but you found none. You barely found anything. You were not one to flinch or retreat, however.

“Threats are not the proper way to court a woman, especially one who is already betrothed to another,” you said, keeping your head up.

Without even turning his head, Aemond kept his eye locked on you, and shouted “Dracarys!” Vhagar knew it was directed to her, and she blew a steady stream of fire toward one of the castle walls, causing it to cave in on itself. The people below you ran away from the damage, frightened by Vhagar and any further threat to their home.

From below, you noticed Cregan running outside, surveying the damage before turning toward Vhagar, and noticing you and Aemond. You exchanged a look from a distance, sure that he was looking at you. If you left with Aemond, Cregan would never forgive you, and you would be betraying your family. If you didn’t leave with Aemond, he would burn down Winterfell, Cregan would still never forgive you, and you would still be betraying your family. You also did not want to hurt or lose Jacaerys, but watching the men of Winterfell try to extinguish the flames of your home, you knew you had the power to keep it safe, even if it meant giving yourself up.

“Fine,” you snapped, walking straight past Aemond until you were level with Vhagar’s head. “You have free will, you know,” you whispered to her, Aemond approaching and lifting you onto her saddle.

✶

The moment you arrived in King’s Landing, members of the King’s Guard were surrounding Vhagar, ready to grab you if you tried to retreat. As soon as your feet hit the ground, one of the men tied your wrists behind your back, adding further restrictions to keep you from trying anything.

“What a way to welcome a lady,” you spat.

The men did not speak, they just followed you and Aemond closely as the prince walked through the Red Keep, ignoring any unsure stares as he approached the throne room. He pushed both doors open, treading straight up to the Iron Throne. You were angry, but you kept your head up, refusing to appear weak. There was no one already in the room apart from the King, who sat on the throne in anticipation as you approached.

Aemond pivoted to stand next to the throne and therefore next to his brother, but the guards grabbed your wrists and halted you in place in front of the steps to the throne before you could continue following Aemond.

“I hear we have a wolf in our midst,” the King spoke.

You remained silent. You supported Rhaenyra in her claim to the throne, despite your brother’s concerns. Aegon had usurped her throne, had been obsessed with bloodshed since the crown touched his skull, and allowed his brother to falsify a betrothal to the realm for his own political gain. You hated him. He was not worth the breath.

“Does the wolf not howl?” he asked. You stared at him blankly, shoulders back, head up, mouth closed.

“I hear you’ve disrespected by dear brother and decided to marry my nephew,” he tried, but still, no answer. “Now tell me,” he said, standing up and slowly walking down the stairs, cup in hand, “why would you want to do that?”

You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on keeping your breath steady as he approached you, standing directly in front of you.

“Jacaerys-“ he started, but he stopped for a moment, almost as if speaking the name disgusted him, “Jacaerys is not a man!” he yelled, smashing the cup on the floor next to your feet. There was something more to it, something in the past that you weren’t aware of.

You didn’t flinch. You remained still, eyes locked on him as he calmed down until he finally looked at you, matching your intense gaze.

“If you wanted a man, I have one for you. Funnily enough, I actually provided you with one for a husband,” Aegon continued, raising an arm toward his brother, “and I suggest you act grateful.”

Aegon stayed in your face for a moment, intentionally running his eyes over every portion of your upper body, not even trying to hide it when he traced the line of your dress hem and cleavage. He followed your body back up to your eyes. “Nothing to say?” he taunted.

“The only reason a man would force a woman’s hand for political gain,” you started, “is if he is too weak to garner allies himself.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared as he looked at you. He was partially hurt, the word cutting deeper than any other could have, and he was partially angry that you would speak to your king in such a way. There was a small part of him that enjoyed it, though he would never admit it.

“I am not weak,” he spat.

“Then untie my hands,” you contested, “unless you do not think yourself strong enough to handle me.”

Aegon nodded his head, smiling and waving a finger at you as he backed up slightly. “Ah ah ah, I see, you want me to free you so you can run back to your bastard. My darling, you’re standing in front of a king.”

You scoffed, “you are no king of mine.”

Aegon’s smile dropped, his eyes becoming dark and his gaze intense. He seemed like he wanted to continue fighting with you, but his next comeback was lost in his throat. “Get her out of my sight.”

The guards started to direct you away, but you were insistent on getting in the last word. “You should lock me in the dungeon if you’re so scared of me, Your Grace,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “I can’t promise I’ll behave anywhere else.”

Aemond tensed at your words, realizing he was in for a rather tumultuous time with you, but Aegon sat back on the Iron Throne, a slight smile on his lips as you were dragged out of the room.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Heart Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: A few months after you left, Spencer thinks he sees you walking down the street, and his whole world is turned upside down.

Words: 3,2k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death, pain and violence (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so much angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm so sorry, that's all I can say now.

Also, I thought about making this a series, but I'm not sure because I've never done one before and I've really only been writing here for about a month??? I'm trying hard.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

July 18th, 2011

The steady ticking of the wall clock echoed in Spencer's head as a reminder that his time in the session was ticking away, robbing him of the chance to express himself without sounding like a complete lunatic.

“I saw her.” He had to repeat it aloud after receiving a puzzled look from his therapist.

The woman pursed her lips. “In a dream? Are you having nightmares again?”

The lump in the agent's throat felt tighter and more suffocating, causing him to shift in his seat to hide it. He wanted to appear sane and focused, however much his next words were anything but.

“No.”

The therapist's intrigued look and the fact that she stopped writing in her notebook to give him her full attention made his hands tremble and his heart pound as he spoke again.

“I mean, I still have the same nightmares...but this, this is different.” Reid tried to explain hesitantly.

Since the day he found you lying in a pool of blood outside your sister's apartment, his mind had been tormented by the image and the guilt it caused him. The nightmares of seeing you again and losing you were a constant every night. Every time he managed to fall asleep, he woke up agitated, feeling again the emptiness of not having you by his side. And that was something his therapist knew better than anyone, because she forced him to write down every nightmare and tell her all of them.

Those bad dreams were supposed to be over, or so he had claimed for the past three weeks.

“How?”

“I wasn't asleep when I saw her.” Spencer finally blurted out in a slightly shaky voice. He had rehearsed the same conversation several times and always ended up feeling like a deranged man seeing ghosts. “I was on the street.”

That sentence instantly changed the tone of the conversation.

“It was after work, I went to buy some food because the case ended earlier than I thought. Her favorite Chinese restaurant is a few blocks from my apartment, we really liked to eat there...I bought some and when I came out, I saw her.” He paused for a minute, trying to mentally return to the moment that was relentlessly replaying in his mind. “She was across the street, buying flowers.”

He had to be quiet for a second, pausing to calm his own breathing. It was ridiculous, but the thought of you buying flowers again made him smile slightly.

You had always loved flowers and now he was supposed to bring them to your grave.

“I ran across the street as soon as I saw her, but I lost sight of her when a bus came across.” He said, struggling to finish his story.

“Spencer, listen to me.” The woman's tone alone let him know that she didn't agree with him at all. “It's normal to think we see someone we lost, it happens to several people. Maybe it was just someone who looked like her, and being near a place the two of you frequented contributed to the confusion.”

That was impossible because he would recognize you anywhere and there was no one else like you.

“You know the truth.”

Of course he knew.

He had been trying to live for six months knowing that you were already dead.

Six months of him trying to deal with your ghost. Six months of him on his knees begging for this to be just another nightmare. Six months of reliving the last time he held you in his arms. Six months of being dead in life.

“Yes, but she looked different.” He explained, receiving a puzzled look that prompted him to provide further clarification. “Her hair was shorter, much shorter. And if I were hallucinating her ghost, I'd see her the same way I saw her the last time, or maybe the time before that. It wouldn't be so different from the way I remember her.”

“You lost two important people on the same day, it's not about logic.”

From her reaction when he concluded his session, it was evident that she considered his perspective to be irrational and clouded by the effects of grief.

And maybe it was.

July 30th, 2011

A few days of missing therapies and locking himself up at work already had consequences.

It was the second time a case had ended earlier than expected and Spencer had to go back to his lonely apartment and find excuses to leave without feeling sorry for himself. It was hard for him to be in his own home without you, surrounded by the photos you always insisted on taking and framing to preserve moments that were now torture. So the best solution was to make unnecessary purchases or lock himself in the nearest library.

Anything was better than being locked in a room with himself, so he decided to read in a room full of strangers who provided the company he so desperately needed.

The bad news was that the library's closing time had come earlier than expected for unknown reasons, and life seemed to force him to face his reality on the busy streets of Virginia, taking every possible alternate route to delay his arrival home. He didn't want to have to open the door knowing that no one would be waiting for him, that you wouldn't be there asleep on the couch after watching a marathon of your favorite movies, or just trying to read one of his books so you could discuss it with him.

His mind was still hazy and his eyes were wandering through the shops of the city when a familiar and unmistakable figure appeared before his eyes, just a few meters away, coming out of one of the shops on the next street.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

He started running without a second thought, but the streets were so crowded that it was hard for him to move through the mass of people. His heartbeat was out of control and probably everyone could hear him, but he didn't care about looking crazy, he just needed to get a little closer to talk and make sure it was you.

The city's public transportation seemed to be against him, because just as he was about to cross the street, not caring that the light was red, another bus crossed the street and almost ran him over. Just a few inches and the story would have been very different for him. Everyone on the street was whispering, car horns were honking and every now and then someone would ask him if he was okay or look at him like he was a psychiatric patient. But nothing mattered to him, there was only your image in his mind and the possibility of finding out if he was really going crazy or if your ghost was haunting him.

When he managed to cross the street, there was no sign of you, and his therapist's words echoed in his mind as a symbol of temporary insanity brought on by pain. Try as he might to ignore his conscience, there was no way to find you in the sea of people, and he had no choice but to enter the store where he thought he saw you coming out.

“A woman bought something here a few minutes ago, she had a bag slung over her shoulder.” Spencer spoke quickly as soon as he walked in and approached the local salesman. He paused only when the man nodded in confusion at his attitude. “Do you know her name? Where she's from? Does she come here often?”

The man's lips were sealed, he just waved his hand to let him know he would only talk for money. He didn't even flinch when Reid pulled out his badge and repeated that he was FBI. Anyway, the thirty dollars was the master key to get the information and the security camera footage, which was barely visible because of the poor quality.

“I don't know who she is, it's the first time I've seen her. There aren't many customers on my shift, and not everyone buys that many books.” He began to speak under Spencer's curious gaze. “She paid cash and bought a bunch of classics. And she had a limp.”

“Are you sure? Which leg was it?”

There was a short silence, which the salesman used to remind himself, and Spencer's nerves got even more out of control.

“I don't remember which leg it was but I was definitely limping. I noticed that when she climbed the ladder, I had to help her.”

January 11th, 2010

“Can we eat here?” You asked after reading the sign that said the restaurant's elevator was under repair. “There are a few tables.”

Spencer couldn't help but frown and let go of your hand to stand in front of you. His eyes searched for yours. “I thought you wanted to come up, the view is your favorite thing here.”

You two were at your favorite restaurant, a Chinese food paradise with the best view in city, according to your expert opinion. It wasn't the first time the two of you had been there, so you had already more than booked a table, and this one was on the third floor. Your favorite part of going there was seeing the moon.

And of course, Dr. Reid was the kind of guy who always paid attention to the little details. He remembered everything, and could probably tell what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes for a few seconds.

“Let me take you upstairs, please.”

His puppy-dog eyes and a single phrase were enough to get you to let him take you by the arm and lead you up the stairs at a slow pace. By the time you got to the second floor, he offered to carry you like a princess. You had no choice but to accept, especially since it had already taken you more than ten minutes to climb a single floor. The pitying looks from the other diners were starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You mumbled as you reached the table and he pulled up a chair for you.

He smiled. He loved how you said his name and wanted to hear it for hours.

After you both sat down and made your requests, you spoke again. “Aren't you going to ask why I can't climb a ladder?”

“I won't ask you anything you don't want to answer.” He said simply.

You felt like you could tell him anything, even your darkest thoughts. Your sister had already talked about it. Either it was the Reid effect, or you were just madly in love with him. Both were quite similar in your view.

“I hurt myself while I was practicing ballet. I made a really bad move.” You spoke up after a few minutes of silence. He frowned when he heard you. He had no idea you played the sport. “I was supposed to have quit, so I didn't tell anyone. Only Emily knew. I didn't treat it until the injury got worse when I went out in the field on a case. That's how I retired from the FBI. My mom freaked out, and my left ankle was screwed up for my whole life.”

Before you turned your attention back to Spencer, you prepared yourself mentally for the sympathy he would undoubtedly show. The curious thing was that in his eyes, there was nothing but interest and gratitude for having allowed him to know more about you. That was what kept you talking.

“There's an operation to try to fix it, but recovery takes quite some time. I'd rather always take the elevator and avoid the stairs as much as possible than have to rely on Emily to take care of me for three whole months. She has work to do and would go crazy having to be my maid.”

“I would.” He said without hesitation. When you looked curious, he elaborated. “I'd take care of you.”

“For three whole months?” You asked, sounding rather incredulous and as if you thought maybe he was just being extra nice.

“For the rest of my life, if you let me.”

September 5th, 2011

“There's no way you could have seen her, Spence.”

JJ's eyes fell on his friend's not-so-shaky ones, and a part of her churned inside, not knowing what else to say to him. It was eleven o'clock at night, the first time in several days that Spencer had shown up at her house to try to find comfort and perhaps understanding.

“I know, I know it shouldn't be possible.” He replied and went back to pacing the room, trying not to make a sound. The last thing he wanted was to wake up his godson or his friend's husband. “But it was so real...maybe I'm crazy.”

“You're not.” She said firmly, getting up from her seat to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

At the time, even he didn't know for sure, and that made him fear that he had lost his mind. He was hungry for a love that he would never have again.

“You just miss her.”

No, missing was nothing compared to his feelings.

“It's more than that, much more. I haven't been able to catch my breath since she left.” He admitted, running his hands through his hair as tears formed. “I miss Emily, too, and I don't see her walking down the street.”

Silence fell over the room because no one had anything to say. There weren't enough words to describe the situation. The only sound that could be heard was the man's sobbing on Jennifer's shoulder, trying to be encouraged with words.

“It's going to be all right, Spence.”

He didn't say it out loud, but he thought he'd never get anything right in his life if all he wanted was you.

March 14th, 2010

The coffee he was carrying kept him warm as he made his way through the chilly FBI offices. Spencer wondered if the air conditioning had broken down when he reached the technical analyst's office and a conversation stopped him in his tracks.

“My take? She looks like she'll be Mrs. Reid one day.” Penelope's voice was heard after several loose sentences that the boy couldn't understand from the other side of the door. He figured they were talking about him and his relationship with you.

“I hadn't thought about Reid being legally part of my family until now.” Emily spoke next, letting out a few chuckles. “I'm going to have mini geniuses for nephews.”

“Stop it, we're just dating.” You spoke with some nervousness, still reeling from the implications. “It's not like we're getting married tomorrow.”

As he leaned against the wall by the door to hear better, Spencer couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about what he was doing. He knew it wasn't right to overhear other people's conversations, especially if they were about him. But he had a feeling he needed to know what you were saying about him when he wasn't around. It wouldn't hurt to just hear a little bit.

“Don't pretend you don't talk about future names for your babies, I heard you two.” Garcia spoke again.

“It was a random conversation.”

“About baby names?” She gave a little smile and raised an eyebrow.

“What I mean is that bringing things forward is not good.” You began to speak, completely ignoring the previous point. You were trying to be the voice of reason in the midst of their ridicule. “But I'd like him to be the one.”

“I think I'll shed a tear or two because you've grown up so fast.” Your sister commented in a teasing tone that hid quite a bit of truth. She gave your hand a quick squeeze and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking again. “What's up with that look on your face?”

You frowned. Spencer's heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. “What look?”

“You know which one I mean—the one you put on when the coffee runs out.”

Reid's hands began to sweat. He felt like a teenager trying to figure out what the girl he liked really thought of him. Did you ever have doubts about your relationship? Did you ever picture yourself with him in the future? Was he really the one for you?

“The scariest thing about love is getting hurt.” You said, trying to initiate the idea. Unfortunately, Penelope beat you to it and spoke up.

“I'm sure he wouldn't hurt you.”

“I know, I don't care about that.” You spoke up again after a few seconds, looking around the room as if lost in thought. “What if I do it? What if I break his heart?”

Oh, that was certainly not something Spencer was expecting to hear.

“How would you break his heart? Not answering his calls for five minutes and seven seconds?” Interjected Emily with a teasing tone to try to lighten the mood and get a smile out of you. “I don't think either of you would consciously hurt the other.”

And right after that, the protagonist of the discussion entered the room, causing the three of you to remain silent and pretend that nothing was going on. You could only smile when your boyfriend came in with a hot coffee for you and you saw the tender looks the two women gave you.

“Thank you.” You said.

“It's nothing.” He replied, pulling you close to surprise you with a hug that brought him close enough to your ear to whisper. “You could never break my heart.”

September 21st, 2011

Ian Doyle was only a couple of meters away.

Spencer's fist throbbed and burned, still stained with the blood of the man who had taken everything from him seven months ago. He knew he had done wrong, that he had promised everyone that he would only talk to the terrorist, and that he had done much more than that. The team had barely been able to get him out of the interrogation room because he was out of control with rage.

He wanted to make him feel a lot of pain and a minimum of what you and Emily probably felt that night.

“You need to calm down.” JJ came out of the meeting room to stop him before he could go in.

“I'm calm.” He replied, still trying to regulate his breathing. He could see his friend raise an eyebrow, and he decided to speak up again to avoid upsetting her. “This is about as calm as I can get right now.”

As soon as he was done speaking, Reid tried to keep going to the room, but the woman was in his way again and stopped him from opening the door.

“You have to be calm for what Hotch has to tell you. I mean it.” Jennifer said, after receiving a confused look. “What you're going to see now...”

“I'll be fine.”

Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he opened the door to the room. Spencer thought he'd find photos of the crime scene that ruined his life, maybe some testimony he didn't know about, or even the killer there. But none of that was true, and it made his heart stop.

“Hi.”

You certainly broke his heart this time.