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wesimpforxiao · 4 years

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Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 5.4

Darkness.

What a strange feeling it is to have your senses deprived and stolen from you. Were you still alive, or were you also nothing in this realm of nothingness? Look at you, unable to form a coherent thought or a cry for help. Look at how you've fallen.

You've fallen too deep this time. Was Xiao even looking for you? Did they manage to kill Childe? Was Aether defeated? Did the Fatui get what they needed from you, and discard your body in the snow? All these fears floated alongside you in this sea of darkness, but you could not discern the answers.

Just how much time passed since you were dragged into that portal?

But as soon as you found yourself in this wretched place of nothing, something began to manifest. A single voice found you, then two. Soon enough they were blaringly loud and obnoxious. But eternal sleep sounded nice. Maybe this darkness wasn't all bad. A peaceful end to your unpeaceful demise.

"Why is she still sleeping?" Childe sounded a bit agitated and overprotective as he glared at Signora. "We require her to be in good health."

"Relax, Childe," Signora lent him a faint smile. "Do you not know that archons and adepti can hear pleas for help? This will keep the guardian you spoke of off our trail. Later we'll use it as bait to capture him."

"It wasn't necessary to hit her so hard," he muttered. He could still see caked blood at your hairline.

"Now that we're back, I'll inform the Tsaritsa of our achievement. Make sure she doesn't try anything stupid." Signora left the cell and retreated upstairs.

Childe watched her leave and returned his gaze to you. His fingers lightly traced your jaw. "I warned you that things would get ugly, ojou-chan. You should have considered an early surrender."

............................................

"I can't hear her," Xiao paced the city gates while Aether and Paimon tried to reassure him. The worry that exuded the otherwise composed yaksha was enough to put them even more on edge. If only he had been faster, if he had pushed off the ledge harder, you wouldn't be in the Fatui's hands now. A part of him tore himself to shreds for his lack of agility in the spur of the moment, but he quickly silenced it. Reducing himself to a failure would only hinder his ability to rescue you when the time came.

"We know where they're headed! They'll be in Snezhnaya without a doubt!" Paimon attempted to bring optimism to her friends.

"It won't be that easy to infiltrate their base," Aether groaned. "We won't even know where she's being held, or if she's even there in the first place." This comment only seemed to agitate the yaksha further.

Aether was right, and Xiao hated it. As much as he wanted to barge into Snezhnaya the second you disappeared, acting on emotion and rage wouldn't do you any good. The likelihood that they were using you as bait was too high. He needed to formulate a plan, just like every other battle he's participated in. "Quiet," Xiao ordered the two of them to shut up in a disturbingly low voice. "I need silence."

"S-Sorry!"

The yaksha disappeared without another word, and reappeared before Zhongli in Liyue. He was just leaving the funeral parlor after a long day. "We have a problem," Xiao growled.

......................................

"Mmph," you slowly regained consciousness sometime the next day. "M-my head..." Your blurry vision slowly focused on the ground in front of you. The amount of scum on the tile made your stomach riot, and your gaze shifted to your wrists which were chained to the ground. "So...dizzy."

The sound of metal clinking made you look up. A Fatui agent was unlocking your cell door, and Childe entered. "Good, you're awake. Someone very important wishes to meet you." He nodded to his subordinate, who then unchained your hands from the floor and rechained them behind your back. Childe grabbed you by your injured arm and pulled you to your feet.

"Ngh!" The sudden rise of pain in your shoulder made him chuckle.

"That wasn't even me going all-out, ojou-chan," he spoke in a quiet voice as he guided you down a dim narrow hallway. "That injury is nothing compared to the ones you'll soon receive."

"Shut up," you groaned, not particularly caring if it'd earn you torture later. The two of you soon came upon a set of doors, and Childe guided you through them.

The room was grand and remarkably...dim. The air was stale and seemed to freeze in here. Over ten Fatui agents and skirmishers, the top of their ranks, stood on either side of the path that led to an underwhelming throne. The blue glow that shone through the windows illuminated you much like an interrogation light. Childe pushed you onto your knees once you reached the empty seat at the far end of the room; he spared no expense at agitating your injury, a sadistic smile spreading across his lips every time he heard your stifled groans.

A figure moved from the shadows and took its seat on the throne. The shadows from its headboard obscured the person before you, but you didn't need to know what the person looked like to give you an answer.

"Bow," the friendly mask of Childe finally broke completely, and he forced you to the ground with a foot to your back. "It's customary to show your respect before Her Majesty."

"Urk," your face smooshed against the cold tile. You appreciated that it was much cleaner than your cell floor. It was a weird thing to focus on given the circumstances, but if you were going to live in that disgusting cell the rest of your life, might as well appreciate what you have now, right?

"Rise," a powerful voice boomed through the room, and Childe yanked you back to your knees.

You're really milking this, aren't you? You glared at the harbinger when your shoulder ached from his harshness, but his hardened expression was focused on his queen. That's when you noticed Signora to the left, who was accompanied by two other powerful-looking individuals. Harbingers.

I can't call Xiao here, you realized with disappointment. Even with his years of experience, he couldn't face four harbingers and an archon alone. If you were to call him, he'd be here instantly and without the aid of Aether or anyone else. It would serve as a trap. Knowing this, your shoulders dropped with the weight of an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

You were alone.

"Do you know what this is?" The figure leaned forward enough so that her gloved hand was exposed to the light, along with an object you recognized to be your vision. The panicked look you gave your empty belt loop seemed to satisfy her question. "I hadn't realized I had gifted a vision to someone very valuable to our cause," she mused, turning the vision over in her hand. "You see, we archons bestow visions subconsciously. If I had known you were my target, it wouldn't have been gifted to you. I give you my thanks for your cooperation, but you will not be needing this." She crushed it in her hands, and let the shattered pieces clatter to the ground with the faint clinking of glass and metal.

"Wait, no!" You threw yourself forward, but Childe's grip prevented you from moving. That was my only chance! My...only...! Tears dribbled down your cheeks, and Childe watched you with an empty gaze. If there was some slim possibility of getting out of here, that was it. You stared brokenly at the pieces sitting on the floor.

"If you prove your loyalty to my cause, dearest one, perhaps you'll earn it back," the voice echoed through the chamber. "But until then, that will pose a problem. We don't want you to leave prematurely, do we? You had only just arrived."

"P-please," you cried. "Please don't do this." Childe brought you to your feet and began to escort you out of the room. "Please! No! NO!" His escort was more like dragging your flailing body as you tried to kick at him. "Noooo!"

Your screams of protest no longer echoed in the chamber once the doors shut behind you. A few Fatui held looks of uncertainty or even fear behind their masks, but remained silent. The room was quiet until Signora spoke. "Who will be in charge of her?"

The Tsaritsa's lifeless eyes floated to the harbinger that stood to Signora's right. "Il Dottore."

The white-haired man grinned manically with only half of his smile visible from beneath his mask. "What an excellent casting, Your Majesty. You will not be let down with the results of my research."

.......................................

Childe chained your wrists to the floor once he returned you to the cell. He brought a stool into the room and sat on it, intent on watching you until he was called to do otherwise. You didn't meet his eyes. "I gave you a way out," Childe spoke as he watched various expressions pass across your face while you thought of your options of escape. "To avoid the torment that's to come. You have no idea what you're in for."

"Shut up."

"If you follow instructions, I'm sure you'll earn a few luxuries."

"Like a clean cell?" You rolled your eyes. "Why would you do something like this? I don't get it."

"I owe my loyalty to--"

"No!" Your shout cut him off. "Cut the crap, Tartaglia. Why?" Your eyes glowed enough to illuminate the cell, then faded again. Your determination to remain strong continued to shine in your pupils, though. "If what you told me in Dragonspine was true, if you actually were interested in me, you wouldn't be doing this. I don't give a damn about your rehearsed 'loyalty' line, I'm sick of hearing it. So why?"

Childe searched your eyes for his own answer.

"You lied to us, said that you just wanted to join us on an adventure for awhile," you continued, eyes moist with the beginning of tears. "You ate with us. You laughed with us. You sparred with us. Did all of that mean nothing to you? We trusted you!"

"Sweet, naïve ojou-chan. Trust is for children. This should've been expected." He stood up and grabbed the brim of the stool. He walked towards the cell door.

"Do you even care about family?" The question stopped him in his tracks, but he didn't face you. "You've talked about your siblings before. Do you really expect me to believe you have family values if you disregarded mine?"

"Watch your words, comrade." A dangerous voice left his lips, but it didn't faze you.

"How would you feel if I had been the one to meddle in your family's affairs? To kill them? Do they know how many sins you've committed against innocent people? Do you tell them? Have you told Teucer, or do you continue to wear the same stupid façade of a respectable, perfect older brother? I'd love to see the look on his face when he finds out you're nothing but a monster and a fraud."

Your head slammed into the wall behind you, and Childe's face was suddenly inches away from yours. His hand pressed against your neck enough to deprive you of air, but it eased slightly as he continued to look at you. "Let me get one thing straight. I didn't kill your grandmother," his voice was quiet, with slight guilt, and at the same time full of rage.

"T-then why did you force her to sign the house away?" You gasped for air when he finally let go of your neck.

"She signed it of her own accord," he rose to his feet.

"But why?"

"She refused to give information for free, so we offered her a considerable amount of money and to buy her house so she could move wherever she'd like," Childe grinned slightly when you gave him a look of skepticism. "In the end, she didn't have any useful information on you. But I was more than willing to oblige her, since I respect family."

He replaced his seat back in the middle of the cell and silently watched you once again. You didn't really know how to respond to his words about Granny, so you just glared at the muck on the floor.

Coming up: First contact, a plot of rescue and...a rare sight of a yaksha.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao fanfiction #xiao one shot #genshin imagines

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screamingatanemptyroom · 4 years

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Please Fix the Story! Pt 5- Fantasy World

Here is the next part! Starting out in a new world!

I made a master post with chapter links! - linked here

Enjoy!

_________________________

It was the emptiness between worlds.

I hung there, formless, empty, in total darkness as a slow sense of confusion washed over me. From what I could remember transfers between worlds had always been rapid. The longest I had ever spent in this nothingness had been a few seconds. But as seconds turned to minutes, and confusion grew into panic, I finally called out, surprised I could hear my own voice.

“Am I done?” Had this task of transferring between story worlds finally finished? Would I get my memories back? Go home?

There was a flash of joy at the thought, followed by an uneasy feeling as I thought about the person who had followed me the last two worlds.

Liam. Is he really waiting for me in the next one?

Before I could examine my thoughts or feelings too closely, however, words formed in the space in front of me, the bright blue letters glowing in the surrounding darkness.

Have you learned to accept you fate?

“Accept my fate?” I shook my head. “You mean that I’m destined to travel between worlds being useless and bitter side characters?”

You can go home. You can have everything back.

“Wait… I can?”

All you have to do is accept the destiny given to you.

What does that mean?!!I wanted to know who I was, I wanted to end this constant world hopping. But even as I prepared to accept, a severe stabbing pain filled my head. Something had been forgotten, something desperately important, but the harder I tried to catch it the further it fled. As I struggled I felt something deep within my soul rise up, and a single word was shouted instead of the agreement I had initially meant to give.

“NEVER!” It came out a snarl, filled with bitterness and rage, and overwhelming hatred and anger flooded my senses.

I couldn’t give up.

I WOULD NEVER give up.

Even if I wasn’t sure what that meant.

Very well. It was just silent text, but I could sense the disappointment behind them.

Then continue.

Before I could respond, the words faded, and I was in a new world.

_________________________

“Help me!” A young voice filled with fear called out.

I opened my eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight, taking in the world around me.

Trees. Massive trees, in every direction I could see. A thin film of sunlight passed through the thick canopy of leaves, illuminating the ground covered in flowers. Butterflies of every color flittered around me, moving frantically from bloom to bloom. A dense smell of grass mixed with a sweet aroma of the flowers around me filled the air. It was a paradise.

“HELP!” Hearing the voice call out again, I leapt to my feet, feeling oddly unbalanced.

Why do I feel so… small? Looking down at my hands, I saw that they were much smaller than any of my previous bodies, with chubby, childish fingers. My legs were short, the small toes of my bare feet buried in the grass in flowers. I wore a simple green smock that came to my knees, the dress hanging straight down over a flat chest.

I was a child.

Well… this is new.Before I could truly process the new body, I heard another scream of fear and ran towards it, trying to cope to the much shorter leg length than what I had previously taken for granted in the zombie world. As I passed between two large tree trunks, I skidded to a stop, gaping at the sight in front of me.

There was an elven child under attack.

He was about the same size as me, with pale skin, delicate features, and long pointed ears that poked through golden hair. A pair of bright green eyes, filled with tears and fear stared up at me. His small arms and legs flailed wildly trying to strike at the dark monster that pushed him to the ground.

I grabbed a branch on the ground, stumbling a bit from the weight and my lack of strength, and dragged it over. Screaming out, I swung the branch at the creature attacking the boy, knocking him several feet away.

The shadowy monster landed on its feet, turning towards me with a loud snarl. It had the vague form of a large wolf, but its entire being was made of darkness, the edges of its body blurred, as if it were something unnatural pushing against the edges of reality. From in between its black pointed fangs, a dark liquid dropped, burning the grass it touched. The only color that could be seen were its eyes, that were a startling shade of dark blue.

“Get behind me.” I snapped at the child, brandishing my makeshift weapon again.

He stared up at me silently, his eyes confused, his body frozen in place.

“Or you can just lay there and let the monster eat you. That works too I guess.” I felt sorry for the kid, but it wasn’t like I had time to coddle him.

At my sarcastic words he seemed to shake himself, rolling to his feet and stumbling behind me, just as the shadow creature pounced.

SMACK! The branch connected solidly with the creature’s head, the wood sinking into the shadow for the briefest moment before the monster was thrown back into a tree.

It growled softly, getting back to its feet. A slow trickle of blue blood ran from the wound, floating in the air and dissipating into nothingness.

“Bad shadow wolf! Go back to your home!” I held up the stick again, groaning. “Where’s a spray bottle when you need it?”

Before I could bemoan my lack of canine training tools, the creature lifted its head, seeming to hear some silent call. It pointed its jaws to the sky letting out an eerie howl, before leaping into the air and disappearing, leaving only the wreckage and dead plants as evidence that it had ever been there.

I sighed with relief, turning to the child behind me. “Are you okay?”

“You… you drove it off!” His eyes were wide with shock. “You saved me!”

“No big deal…”

“It was so scary.” He clenched his fists. “I was too weak. I couldn’t do anything.”

“Um… I wouldn’t really worry about…” Sensing a character development monologue coming, I desperately tried to interrupt.

He picked up a branch swinging it in the air with a fierce expression. “I swear on the graves of my parents, I will become stronger, someone who can defend the weak!” Looking over at me, he added. “You won’t have to worry anymore, I’ll protect you.”

“Weak? Seriously did you not just see me beat it up…”

“After all, I owe you my life.” He reached over and grabbed my hand enthusiastically. “So I’ll stay by your side until my debt is repaid.”

Uh oh. Adorable elf boy, dead parents, attacked by monsters and vows to grow stronger? My male lead senses are tingling. Better get away.

I smiled blandly, pulling my hand out of his grasp. “I was saving my own skin. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do!” He put his hand to his heart and bowed. “I am K’lliean.”

There was an awkward silence.

Crap! I haven’t gotten the mission or the character’s memories yet. Well last time they let me rename my character… here’s hoping.

“My name is Blaire.”

“Belaire?”

Bright blue words formed in the air beside me.

You have chosen to select the character name “Belaire” All characters’ memories will be adjusted accordingly.

**** Confirm character name? ****

Slightly off… but … “Sure.”

Character name confirmed.

I stayed calm, even with the scrolling text in the sky that only I could see. This had happened before, in story worlds where a cellphones didn’t exist. The text simply appeared on the sky, responding to voice instead of typing.

Now that K’lliean’s memories had been properly adjusted, he had backed away, a look of disgust on his face.

“Stay away from me, you… you…” He glared at me. “Stupid girl!”

“How will I ever recover from that insult?” I held a hand up to my head. “But sure, I’m fine staying far away from you.” Always safer to not hang around the male lead type too much.

“I’m NEVER going to marry you, so don’t even think about it.”

“…” I shrugged. “Ok.” I’m already hating this plot, and I don’t even know it yet.

“I’m going to be a great warrior one day! I’m not some HELPER for a stupid priestess!”

“No one’s arguing with you, dude. Go live your life.”

K’llean stared at me for a few moments, and then looked away suddenly. “I mean… if you REALLY want to marry me, I’ll let you stay by my side.”

“Literally never asked for that.”

“But don’t forget that I don’t like you! I’m only marrying you to help save the forest.”

What in the world is this plot?!!!

I rubbed my forehead, a headache forming. “Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m sure there are other alternatives besides matrimony to save the forest. I’ll figure it out.”

“SHUT UP!” K’llean stomped his foot. “I’ll save this forest, and I won’t need the help from a stupid girl like you!” With that he ran off, leaving me behind to stare at his back in shock.

“Knew the trend of reasonable male leads wouldn’t last.” With a chuckle, I sat down with my back against an enormous tree trunk and spoke to the air around me. “Open mission.”

Words began forming in the air in front of me.

**** NEW WORLD: THE CHOSEN ONE ****

This world is an incomplete epic fantasy novel, centering on the heroine Stella. Stella was an average 21-year-old college student, until she was transported into a world of fantasy, swords and magic. Learning that her arrival was predicted by prophecy, and that she is the Chosen One who must save the world, she harnesses her newfound magical abilities and goes on a epic quest to defeat the Lord of Darkness.

“So far so good. Maybe she’ll be a fun heroine like last time…”

During her journey, Stella falls in love with a elven warrior named K’llean.

“CALLED IT! He’s totally the male lead!” I high fived myself, and then felt embarrassed at the lonely gesture.

K’llean returned her feelings, however, he was already married to the elven priestess, who was tasked with saving the forest by combining their light magic abilities. The high priestess, hurt by K’llean’s betrayal, initially tried to send away Stella, but instead, in a terrible battle against the dark forces, chose to sacrifice herself to save the Chosen One’s life.

“I have a bad feeling about that priestess character.”

This story was discontinued after the author quit the story, fed up with complaints from the readers. There was a huge backlash at the story’s treatment of the elven priestess, a fan favorite character. Additionally, very few readers supported the romance subplot between Stella and K’llean, given that it began in earnest while K’llean was still married. There was general complaint that Stella and K’llean never received any consequence for their betrayal of the loyal priestess, and that her death was simply to pave the way for the “Chosen One.” The story world was abandoned and left to be destroyed.

The author’s main regret is the sad fate of the elven priestess. To complete their wish and stabilize this world, please allow the elven priestess to live a long, happy life. For this mission to succeed, the world must still be saved from the Lord of Darkness without sacrificing the life of the priestess.

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION?****

“…” I stared at the words thoughtfully. “So I just have to find this priestess and make sure she doesn’t get married to the cheating idiot and lives happily without sacrificing her life for them?” My eyes narrowed. “I feel like there’s gotta be a catch. What if I say ‘no’?”

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION?****

The words appeared again. I wasn’t surprised. There was only ever one option.

“Yes.”

My brain was filled with a flood of information, foreign knowledge, memories and emotions belonging to my character. I closed my eyes, groaning with pain, my fist hitting the ground beside me over and over until the skin split, my blood staining the leaves and grass.

“Well… this sucks.” I knew there was going to be a catch, but when I figured it out, all I could do was smile bitterly at my new identity.I should have guessed.

I was the elven priestess.

_________________________

I leaned my head against the tree trunk, sorting through the new information, the rough bark digging into my scalp. A slow trickle of tears overflowed from my closed eyes, as I fought back the emotions that weren’t my own.

The priestess had truly loved K’llean.

She had known from an early age that she was to be a priestess. Her strong light magic, tested from birth, left her with no choice but to serve her people. Part of that role required her to marry an elf with strong magic, combining their powers to allow the forest to be protected. K’llean was one of many young elves that had been approved as a potential partner.

They met in a similar way that I had just experienced, with her saving his life from a shadow beast. From that moment on, they had spent every waking moment together, growing up side by side. And on the night of her adult ceremony at the age of eighteen, she had chosen him without hesitation.

I could feel her memories, of K’llean watching her with a loving gaze.

“I’ll stand by your side, even if no one else does. Forever.”

She had believed him, whole heartedly.

But he was the male lead, so his love, his true love, was only ever given to the heroine.

The Chosen One.

This world was made for her, for her happiness.

How could one priestess stand against it?

When she found them together… she tried to protest, tried to remind him of the love they had shared. But in the end, Stella had everything. Her people’s trust. Her husband’s love. Even her mission, to save the forest, the one she had trained her whole life to fulfill, had been handed over so easily.

She had nothing.

When she burned through her life force in the battle against the darkness, fueling a magic powerful enough to drive to out the dark creatures and purify the forest, she had felt nothing but a weary resignation.

She had fulfilled her task, protected her people.

But she had not left happily.

I covered my face with my hands, sobbing loudly with a pain I hadn’t experienced, but had become my own. It took some time, but eventually the storm passed. My throat was sore, my eyes sore, but my emotions slowly calmed down.

“I give you…us… a happy life.” I felt a sense of completeness at the words, a almost inaudible relieved sigh in my ear.

Shaking my head, I stood up, stretching with a groan. According to my memories, this character should be about eight years old.

I had already met K’llean. It was probably for the best. If I had the memories I had now, I might not have saved him, child or no.

His cold, careless eyes as he watched his wife sacrifice her life to protect his lover and himself was still fixed firmly in my mind. I wasn’t too happy about it.

The main issue was that I needed to be able to protect the forest, and that would be difficult to accomplish without either burning up my life force or combining my magic with another light magic elf… and K’llean had the strongest magic.

No way in hell am I marrying that guy. My thoughts strayed briefly to the man who had planned our wedding in the last world, wondering if I would see him again, before I reigned them in firmly. So I just need to be powerful enough that I don’t need the cheater’s help. He can run off and romance the heroine to his heart’s content. I’m going to be the greatest light magic wielder this world has ever seen!

I rubbed my hands together, feeling excited. This was my first magic world, and I was starting out as a child, meaning I got to learn from the start. Elves in this world aged similarly to humans, which gave me about 10 years to prepare for the large scale battle against the darkness. Magic lessons should begin at age ten, but it shouldn’t be too hard to get them to start early.

Magical powers, here I come!

A villainous laugh filled the air, completely out of place in the beautiful elven forest.

_________________________

“You’re too young.” The Elven leader’s lined face showed his concern as he shook his head at me. “It’s good to be eager, but you should enjoy the freedom and childhood you have before you’re forced to spend all your time studying.”

I glanced off to the side, where a group of elven children were playing. K’llean could be seen in the middle of the group, swinging a branch, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“I’M THE GREATEST!”

Spare me a childhood with him.I smiled at the elder. “It is my duty, and my joy to work hard for the sake of our people. I have a sense that I need to start early to be able to protect our forest.”

The leader eyed me suspiciously. “You were given a prophecy?”

I kept my smile firmly in place. “Sure.” It’s not completely a lie. In a way, I do know what the future holds.“If I’m not powerful enough by the time I reach adulthood. I will die, and the forest will be in grave danger.”

No need to mention the Chosen One for now. Don’t want them skimping on the training resources.

I struggled to keep my thoughts from showing on my face. The elder had been one of many who had supported my character whole-heartedly... at least until the heroine had shown up. Then he had cast her aside just as quickly.

While still expecting her to be willing to die to protect him and his people.

This life will be different from hers. I’ll give them no choice but to want to stay on my good side.

Perhaps something in my tone or my gaze convinced the older elf. He sighed quietly, patting my head. “Very well. I hope you don’t regret this decision. Once you start, you can’t quit halfway, even if you want to go out and play with the other children.”

I again looked off at the group of young elves. K’llean was squatting over a boy he had just knocked down, farting in the other child’s face while yelling. “YIELD TO THE MIGHTY ELVEN WARRIOR!”

I turned back to the elder. “I am so sure. You have no idea how sure I am.”

“Then let’s begin.”

#writing #please fix the story #fantasy world #fantasy #magic #world hopping

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tcstu · 3 years

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April’s Honorable Mentions

This was definitely a hard month to judge. Each of the entries below took a totally different perspective and it is very difficult to hold them to any kind of comparison. I hope you will take the time to read each of these stories and make sure to let the writers know if you liked one. I’m sure they would love to hear from you!

As a reminder, the piece for this month’s contest is an untitled work created by @beewithagun. If you like this picture as much as I do, make sure to check out Beewithagun’s page to see more original artwork!

(The Honorable Mentions below are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.)

Title: The Fay

Written by: @daalseth

Deep in the forest lived a fay. Older than time, but as young as spring she had known every tree since it was a seed. She was the soul of the forest. When she was sad, the forest mourned, when she was happy the forest was bright, and when she was angry, well you didn’t want to be in the forest when the fay was angry.

The fay came across a fallen tree. It was lying on the ground, but it hadn’t blown down. It was cut off square at the base. Then she saw another. There was a clearing, a whole section of her forest that was dead and many of the fallen were missing. As the fay passed over she was horrified. What could have caused this?

Soon she came upon the camp of men where they were feeding the dying trees into grinders. The fay could hear the trees, still alive scream as they were shredded into wood chips. The fay’s horror grew deeper and she went to the men to plead for them to stop. Beg them to not kill the trees, her brothers and sisters. But as soon as she appeared the men grew angry at her interference. They yelled at her, threw things at her, they even tried to shoot at her.

The fay fled into the depths of the forest. She was heartbroken and began to cry. When she cried the rain began to fall. So deep was her sorrow that the rain came down in torrents and began to flood the blasted land. The fay went back to the camp. She saw that the men had stopped shredding trees. Now they were battling the waters. They had used machines to push earth up to block the water. The fay noticed that some metal barrels had been broken by the machine and were spilling their poison into the water. The water flowed across the clearing into the forest. Wherever the poison flowed, everything died. Fish, mouse, moss, and tree all died in agony.

The fay grew angry. The men could see fire in her eyes, and sparks illuminated her hair. The rain turned to thunder and bolts of lightning rained down upon the camp. They struck the shredder, and the building, and the piles of shredded trees, and the lightning struck the men, it ESPECIALLY struck the men. Electric hands reached into even the deepest hiding place to grab the terrified men.

Soon it was done. The fay came out and passed among the charred remains. She smiled a grim smile. The rain stopped and the sun came out. She was pleased. Though the fay mourned her lost friends, she knew the forest would heal with time.

At last she came to one man still alive. With his last breath he pleaded for help. She looked at him with cold eyes and turned away.

She was the fay of the forest and men were not her concern.

Title: “About Danny’s First Time”

Written by: @evanthenerd83

It was wonderful.

It was also kinda, sorta, a little gross.

There were a few glaring issues. Primarily the question of how Danny would get into the appropriate position, and how she would get into hers.

The swamp wasn’t all that big. It wasn’t even a swamp. The girl sat in a rather small pool.

Said pool was, of course, filled with water. And said water contained muck, yuck, and other things generally considered unpleasantly… sticky. Twigs and fallen leaves floated along the surface—

No. Not floated, exactly. They were stuck on the surface, a skin not unlike jellied jam.

Which meant the girl could only sit on her knees, or lay on her stomach with her head propped up in her arms.

Danny particularly liked that position. Her skin was green, lighter splotches running down her neck and her arms and her spine. Her hair spilled over bare shoulders.

And it also made certain things much more… pronounced. Danny felt his blood rushing down.

The girl tried to explain why she couldn’t leave the pool. Something about an ancient curse and her mother. A woman who, as she so elegantly put it, hated her guts.

“All of my sisters are much more, you know. Beautiful. Human… er? More human? Humanoid?”

Danny didn’t care if her sisters were literal goddesses. They’d never compare to her. He pulled off his shirt, then threw it over his shoulder. The skull-and-crossbones printed on the front disappeared.

The girl blushed. An even darker shade of green filled her cheeks.

“Anyway, you’d be better off going to them. I don’t have, like, much experience with… you know… uh… physical stuff.”

Danny plunged into the pool. The water wasn’t cold. It wasn’t warm, either. It was nothingness.

The girl shifted in place, while Danny took her hand. It was only slightly warmer than the water, which surprised him.

He kissed it. “Neither do I.”

The girl stared, eyes wide. Then, she glanced down, at his bare chest. Then, up to his face. Then, down to his chest, again, and then—

“Oh, what the hell?”

Soggy lips met lips.

She laid back.

He leaned forward.

Calm hands clasped behind his neck.

Awkward hands panicked.

He grabbed the straps of her swamp-weed dress, the not-actually-fabric tearing apart, as easily as paper. Certain things were suddenly freed.

“Oh. Crap. Sorry—”

“Don’t be.”

Legs thin as twigs wrapped around his waist.

She undid the zipper to his jeans, yanking them down, discarding his underwear at the exact same time. Something else was suddenly freed.

“Now, let’s just… a little to the—”

“L-like that?”

“Oh! U-uh. Y-yeah.”

What happened next was kinda, sorta, a little gross.

But also… wonderful.

Title: “Sing Me Out a Storm”

Written by: @winterrose42

She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained this much.

Though she could only imagine the chaos that must be raging above the pond underwater it was as calm and serene as it had ever been. Idly, she swung her feet through the loose sand and reeds, blurring her vision with the silt she kicked up. That was just fine with her, there had never been much to see in her small abode to begin with. Sand and rocks worn smooth and sparkly lined to bottom, with the sides sloping up gently until they met the shore. She could swim from one end to another in about three minutes if she went slowly, and it was just deep enough that casual swimmers wandering in wouldn’t see her unless they knew to look. It was perfect.

Closing her eyes she sighed contently and stood her ears up just a little bit more to catch more of the soft pattering of rain that was still filling up her home at a slow and steady rate. The frogs had long stopped their evening croaking and she knew the few fish that lived here wouldn’t have a care that it was storming above their home. The pond hardly ever changed and when it did it simply meant there was a meal to be had, which was always fine with her.

Perking up she strained her ears as something new invaded her serenity. A low, mournful note drifted down to her slowly, draping itself around her shoulders and weighing them down with the burden it carried. Tears pricked her eyes as she pushed off from where she’d been sitting, intent on seeing what could make such heart jerking noises. Their voice picked up again, another long, drawn out note that was almost more moan than song. Curious and slightly concerned she drifted closer to the hunched figure. The song wrapped around her so slowly she hardly noticed it, pulling her along as gently as a suggestion with little intention beyond calling for aid. Closer and closer she came, reeds fanning out with her hair as she kept as low as she could with her eyes still above water, squinting through the storm to see clearer.

Quickly, so quickly even her natural instincts were too slow, the comforting net turned to one full of malice, her limbs cinched so close she could hardly breathe as she finally caught sight of the face of her entrancement. Cold eyes devoid of the emotion their owner had been singing peered at her viciously from under soaked bangs. The notes heightened in pitch, rocking up to a scream as her own voice stuck fast in her throat. Deep in her bones she knew a siren was not meant to be trapped this way; enchanting one wasn’t something she had ever heard of, but feeling the last tendrils of the song fade away into a cold nothing she knew it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained this much.

Untitled

Written by: Felix @that-dumb-space-kid

We’d been traveling for little over two days when we found her. Cass had insisted on taking breaks over our journey, and, with some persistence, I was able to convince Sage to go along with her idea. The lake she’d found was far enough from the path that no one would notice us but close enough that we wouldn’t get lost. Those were Sage’s requirements, our quest would remain as secret as possible. They said word would travel fast about three teenagers going off to battle an evil force. Of course, they were probably right. It was raining when we finally reached the lake. Sage set about surveying the area, making sure nobody was around, and Cass began digging through a basket for some food, leaving me with nothing to do. I decided to go down to the lake to get some water. I couldn’t hear quite right over the rain, but I could’ve sworn I heard crying as I walked up to the water.

When I reached the shore, I was certain I that’s what I was hearing. I looked out over the lake, and that’s when I saw her. She didn’t look like the monsters Sage warned us about, but she didn’t look human either. I was so entranced by who she was or what she could be that I didn’t hear Cass and Sage approach me. Cass opened her mouth to speak, when the creature in the lake snapped her head to us.

“Who are you?” She sounded almost human. If I hadn’t been looking at her, I would have assumed she was. Sage and Cass immediately started arguing over whether or not we could trust her. Not that that was surprising. They argued over everything. The creature and I held eye contact, unnoticed by the others. Eventually I spoke, silencing my friends’ argument. “I’m Oliver. Who are you?”

“Nimue.” For a second her tears stopped, and it seemed as though a venom overtook her. “They destroyed my village.” The moment passed and she was crying again.

“Who?” Sage glared at Cass as she asked.

“I don’t know. Darkness started pouring down into the water, and I heard voices and then nothing. When I woke up, I was the only survivor.”

“Sound exactly like what we’re after,” Sage muttered. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Cass slapped them. “No, it’s not.”

I stepped into the lake and offered my hand to Nimue. “If I’m right, we’re already looking for the thing that destroyed your village. How would you like to join us in stopping it?”

Before Sage could yell at me, Nimue nodded and grabbed my hand. She climbed out of the water and became the fourth member of our quest.

#writing contest #writeblr #writing community #honorable mentions #april contest #april writing contest #ekphrastic fiction contest #ekphrastic fiction

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jason-todd-deserved-better · 5 years

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Ghostly Contact - Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: AND I GOT THIS DONE BEFORE MIDNIGHT!!!!! GUYS, PLEASE BE PROUD OF ME AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!! So I got this idea back on Monday, and I thought, why not? I mean, I already have another supernatural thing that I started a while ago with Jason, but I wasn’t feeling it, so this fic was born. So anyway, feedback is much appreciated, hope you guys enjoy, have a wonderful Halloween and love you guys!

Warning: This deals with abuse, death, spirits, depression, violence and a whole lot of angst that doesn’t really end well for our characters. So if you guys are sensitive to that, please be safe and don’t read.

Summary: You had been in a state of limbo for years now, with no sense of the outside world whatsoever. That is until a certain vigilante makes your apartment a safe house.

Numbness, that’s the only sensation that could describe the way that you were felt now. There were times where you’d feel deep emotions anymore. But those moments were unbearably bright, pain bursting in a way that can only be a phantom as you aren’t hurting anymore. But god it was unbearable, the pain surrounding your neck, but there was a deep agony in your soul that-

Suddenly, you were snapped out of- what was that? You didn’t remember, you couldn’t remember anything. It would have scared you if you found it in your self to care. You know you should but you could never pull up the will. So you stayed in the numbness, watching the stagnant air, as you always did.

But the air wasn’t stagnant anymore, your gaze traveled to the solid body that had walked into the room. He felt whole but you could tell that he felt almost empty, the same kind of emptiness you always felt now. It was odd- wait, odd? He was strange and it made you feel, for just a moment something.

He can’t see you, not many could and you didn’t have the energy to show yourself. But you could see him very well, his face handsome, body made of marble, blue eyes that had an electric green hue that was otherworldly. You got a very close look at his face, he looked like a warrior heading to his next battle, as he walked through you.

It caused you to gasp, a burst of energy flooding through your being as the numbness was melting away. You felt as if you breathed a fresh lungful of air as if you had been underwater for years. Feelings, all these feelings, crashing like waves in your thoughts, you felt almost alive at that moment.

He turned around, taking a sweep of the room, feeling unnerved for many reasons. He could have sworn he heard a voice, and he was on high alert as he felt as if he was being watched. He took a thorough sweep through the room, then the rest of the small apartment as the feeling never left. Still, on edge, he begrudgingly kept working on his soon to be Safe House.

Your high was fading as you followed him through the area, now entertained by his living being until you couldn’t feel anymore and then he left, and you slowly floated back into yourself.

A wave of pain hit you, a scream left your lungs until you couldn’t let anything out. Oh god, oh god, oh god, it’s crushing you, your neck, your neck, your neck. This isn’t right everything was wrong, why D-

Another shock went through you as you saw the man from before crawl in through the window and walk right through you. Breath filling you, life just a moment away.

You watched him this time turn around to face you, glancing around the room but missing you entirely. You noticed how he was off-put, his eyes glancing all around but you knew that he couldn’t see you. This time you notice that this place was different, the apartment not as empty, still sparse but there was furniture you have never seen before. As you followed him, there were new things in place. You must have been out for a while this time.

He goes to his bedroom but he didn’t sleep, you can’t tell if it is because he feels wrong or if it’s something is wrong with this place.

You get the hunch that it might be both, as you feel the same way about him. You watch as he brushes his hand through his hair, bushing back the white streak that goes through the front of his hairline. It seems as if he is trying to calm himself.

Eventually, he closes his eyes, and sleep pulls him in. As you watch, you feel yourself receding back into numbness, and you didn’t want to go back there. If only you knew where there was, but there was one way that worked to make you stay.

Going over to his side, you hovered next to him, trailing a hand down to his own, a spark filling you, so this is what it’s like to feel alive. You didn’t expect his eyes to shoot open, his hand gripping yours and pulling you down onto the barrel of what you think is called a gun.

He can touch you. That shocked you.

“Who are you and who do you work for,” He grunts out, holding tight to your arm.

“I-I don’t know,” It was an honest answer, what was your name? Work felt strange as it’s farther away than your name. ”I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The gun was pressed under your chin, the pressure gaining on that spot. “How long have you been in here?”

That one you didn’t have an answer for either. “I’ve always been here; I don’t remember for how long, I’m just always here.”

“What the hell does that-” You pull away from him, his fist clenching as if nothing was there. “What the fuck!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to go back there.” You pull your arms around your self, in a way to protect yourself or for self-preservation.

“Go back where?” He asks, sitting up straight in the bed.

“I’m not sure but they keep hurting me, please I’m sorry,” Tears built up in your eyes but they disappeared before they fell to the ground.

“Who keeps hurting you?” His voice was still standoffish but there was something there almost keen to worry.

“I-I don’t remember…” You trail off, fading back into the nothingness.

The burn of the squeezing on your throat, the tears a steady stream down your face, why did he want to hurt you. Why just why… The flow of tears stop, leaving a moist trail as your dead eyes stared ahead of you at your-

Breaking back into reality, you look around seeing the man come back in from the window, yet again passing through you, sensing something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” You timidly asked, making your presence known to him.

He jumps, turning around and pointing the gun at you again before lowering it down slowly.

“You really are a ghost,” He states as if it’s the only way to explain it. “This is not the type of crap I signed up for.” You study him slowly realizing something. “You’re like me,” You say getting closer to him. “You’re like me but at the same time you’re not, your body is alive and breathing when it shouldn’t be.”

“Your soul is still around when your body stopped all function.” Was his deadpan of a reply.

“I-I... “ You trail off glancing down, as you feel yourself fade, only to be stopped when you feel his hand cover your arm.

“Do you remember anything?”

“Somethings, everything, and nothing,” You look up into his eyes. “I’m scared.”

“You and me both, Doll.” He keeps his hand on you, keeping you above the water of numbness. “I guess I got a lot more work on my hands than I originally thought with this place.”

“Will you help me?” You ask

“To the best of my ability, at least I’ll try.”

And he tries, he really does. The first step that he tries is to look up the past history of the apartment. He finds some information there, but not much. Apparently, there was never a proven murder there, but he did find that there had been a family living there at least fifteen years ago.

All he needed to do was to ask you if the name was familiar.

Some time had passed since then, as he had to use a certain computer that held literally almost every record in the city, so Jason had to spend some time out of the apartment.

When he walks in, all is still, but the eerieness never really goes away.

“Doll, you out and about tonight?” He speaks into the darkness.

“I’m here,” The faint whisper behind him causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Whirling around to face her, rubbing the back of his neck to sooth away the bumps rising. “Please, could you stop doing that?”

“Sorry…” Was your response, you seriously apologized for just about everything.

He was getting a bad feeling about what he was going to find out about your situation.

“Hey,” He puts a hand gently on her arm, noticing her appearance spark alive. “Hey it’s okay, I don’t think you have much control of that.”

Your shy nod confirms it, but he came over to get some answers for you.

“Okay, I did some research and does the name (L/N), sound familiar to you?” It was like a jolt of electricity shot through your being, your mind connecting the dot to what you knew was your last name.

“T-That’s my last name,” You say almost in disbelief. “That’s my name.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” He says, glancing around the room. “Tomorrow I’ll go back and see what I can find about you and your family.”

You let the corners of your lips rise, the feeling foreign but oh so welcomed.

“Huh,” He says looking into your eyes. “It’s good to have a name to go with that pretty smile of yours.”

If you could have blushed, you would have, but that was pretty much impossible for obvious reasons.

So you let out a nervous little laugh and for a moment you felt like you were breathing again.

Sadly, those feelings never last.

Once Jason fell asleep later that night, you felt yourself going back under. You didn’t want to bother him so you let the unseen waters take you in.

The squeezing around your throat got tighter, you felt your nails dig into your assailant’s hands and arms. There was blood dripping down onto you. Your eyes produced rivers but you felt as if raindrops were falling from above you. Why, why, why….

Jolted back into the reality of the mortal world, you weren’t expecting to find Jason bleeding on the floor of the room you were in. To go from one hell, to that, well you were shaken.

But in a way, that got you moving over to his side, trying to stop the bleeding in his stomach. To your relief, the groan of pain that released out of his mouth gave you hope that he’d make it out of this.

“Get- Get a towel,” He moans out to you, and as quickly as you could you found one, you were back at his side. “Put pressure on it-” You do as he says, causing him to grit out a curse.

“Fuck- Fuck that hurts,” He moans, his breathing labored.

The bleeding slowed but it was still pouring out of him, so quickly moving one of your hands you go over to where his helmet was laid next to him.

You’ve seen him contact what you assume is his family using the thing so press onto the button that does that.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait long for a response.

“Red Hood, I haven’t heard from you all night, what’s going on.” An older voice speaks through the com.

“Jason’s injured, I can’t stop the bleeding,” You say, putting all you could in putting pressure on the wound. “I need help-”

“Jason, update me, now-” The voice interrupts you, only to be interrupted by another.

“Father, the women just said he was injured, I’m getting his location now.” A much younger voice says.

“You didn’t hear her?” was Jason’s grumbled resonance was.

“There was no answer, Jason where are you,” Not much room for conversation there.

“The new- The new safe house,” He spits out. “I guess you might get a new ghostly roommate, Doll.”

“Jason, that is seriously not funny,” You grit out, tears filling your eyes. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

“I agree with her, Todd, once is enough.” The other voice says. What you found odd was that they sounded young, but their voice was hard. Oh, and that they could hear you, unlike the first person.

Jason chuckles at this, “You’re one to talk, Demon Spawn.” And at that, he passes out.

You panic, a small noise leaving you but you kept holding on.

The wait wasn’t long for his family to get there. Both of them were in costume, one you could recognize as Batman, and the other as Robin. But your memories of the two were different; Batman was older, that wasn’t that surprising. But Robin, well he was completely different, he was hardened and the look he gave you when entering the room could have curdled milk. If you could remember correctly, the mantle of Robin did change at least once. It caused you to wonder if there was anything else you missed while you were gone.

They soon took Jason away, leaving you shaken with your thoughts. You were terrified, and this time not of the sinking feeling taking you under, but of the fate of the only person who you could call a friend.

It was a couple of days later that you came to. This time, it wasn’t Jason who got you out. It was the boy who you guessed was the new Robin.

He had his back facing you, on high alert and well looked like he was ready to fight.

“Come out, Spirit,” He demands, crossing his arms. “I’ve come to give you an update on Todd’s condition.”

“He’s alive, right?” You appear behind him, causing him to tense up. “He would’ve been here otherwise.”

He turns around to face you, giving you an odd stare. “Yes.”

Your tension leaves, relief flooding your system.

“You’re the first spirit I’ve seen in a while,” He states bluntly.

“You’re like Jason, alive but not really,” You state back, observing how an annoyed look crawls across his features. “That’s how you can have contact with me.”

“That is how it usually works.” He says plainly.

Your eyebrows pull together in thought. “You’re too young to have died.”

“Yeah, not like I had much choice in the matter,” He scoffs, “What’s your excuse, you look a couple of years younger than Todd.”

“I- I think I was killed,” He rolls his eyes.

“Join the club, Spirit.” He says, leaning on the wall. “Do you remember how you went?”

You slowly wrapped your hands around your neck with a whimper.

“That’s… That is a harsh way to die.” He says, glancing away from you as you nod, leaning against the opposite wall.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, he’ll be back in a couple of days.” You smile slightly at him in response.

“I don’t know why but you remind me of someone and I can’t place my finger on it,” You state, glancing over at him.

“Huh, that’s odd,” He states.

“Very much so, Robin,” You respond.

True to his word, Jason comes back to the apartment a couple of days after this. He’s still healing so he doesn’t go back on patrol for a couple of weeks. Because of this, you rarely get pulled under, especially after the incident about a week after he came back.

You had been able to stay in the land of the living for a couple of days, much longer than you were used to. But as soon as Jason fell asleep that night, you were pulled under and the most vivid episode presented its self.

He was so mad this day. You should have known, it had been the three-year anniversary after all. You were so stupid, you thought.

There would be no one to save you. Mom wouldn’t come through the door and pull him off of you, she wouldn’t come to take you home to be with your little brother.

She was gone and you were stuck with him. Oh, how painful it was to have his hands around your neck, squeezing the life and breath out of you. It hurt so bad that your own blood wanted you dead. Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to protect you? Why does he hurt you so much? Why Dad? You think, why are you killing me? You don’t want to die.

You are awakened with a scream, your hands pawing at your neck.

Harshly shaking, you don’t notice the arms wrapped around you, keeping you grounded in this realm.

“You’re okay, Doll,” He rocks you back and forth. “He can’t get to you anymore.”

You didn’t need to explain, and you didn’t want to, but somehow he saw what you saw. That’s what woke him up in the first place, for once it wasn’t his own death that plagued him at night but yours. It was both painful to watch and experience.

So from then on, you stuck close to him at night. You laid next to him as he slept, on bad nights he’d grip onto you tightly, but on others, you’d face each other holding hands. You guys kept a constant connection so you wouldn’t go back under.

And you don’t until he is able to go back on patrol.

But he isn’t gone long, so you weren’t in there for long.

That’s when things become routine after this; for weeks you guys went back and forth doing what could be considered normal for others. It was nice, and for you, it felt like it would never end, but all things do.

This one night that Jason went out, it didn’t feel right. When he was about to leave, you had gotten this pit feeling in your stomach but you couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t bad per se, but it wasn’t something good either. But you just shrugged it off to you being off-put.

So off Jason went, fighting bad guys while you were left alone. So you turned on the TV for background noise to cancel out the feeling. Two hours in and something odd was happening to you and you didn’t know why but you felt almost lighter. It felt blissful, so blissful that you could feel yourself falling into it.

You didn’t hear the TV anymore, but that's when you realized something, you were ready to pass on completely.

Unbeknownst to you, a man was found dead in a Gotham alleyway, a gunshot wound to the back of the head. The police report stated that it was a gang-related hit, the man had a bounty on his head that was now being cashed in and now his soul is being taken down for eternal punishment. You were now free.

And then you were gone.

Jason came home a couple of hours later, ready to tell you about the night he had. On how he beat asses and took names, on how he wished you were there to see him. But the apartment felt empty when he walked in, the place wasn’t cold anymore and it just didn’t feel right when he walked in.

No matter how many times he called out your name, you wouldn’t appear.

It was a heartbreaking sight to see, a man who had yet again lost someone else who he cared about. If you had seen it, it would have broken yours, but you weren’t there to see, he was alone in the apartment he shared with you.

He fell into a state of depression after this; he didn’t know what to do with himself, so he pushed himself harder. He was just about ready to break yet again.

Months would pass, and your absence was felt with him. It got to the point where his whole family noticed. It was hard not to because he was so reckless.

The only one who knew the gist of it was Damian, he had seen you, got to know you, and grew to care about you. He wouldn’t admit it, but it saddened him to see the kind spirit pass over. And so he took out his emotion the best way he knew how, by drawing. It was supposed to be a simple sketch but it turned into a photo-realistic picture of you quickly enough.

He was quite proud of it, had pulled out of his sketchbook and was thinking of having it framed until he got an idea.

A couple of days later, a box would appear on Jason’s doorstep. It was wrapped and inside caused his heart to race and speed at the same time. Your beautiful face was smiling at him through the framed drawing, tears were streaming down his face as he placed the frame on the dresser next to his bed.

But that couldn’t save Jason from himself.

It was a week later that Jason would call for backup on the comms only for everyone to come too late. No one was okay after that.

But for Jason, he always wanted to go out again, guns blazing.

So when he felt himself leave, it was peaceful in an odd way. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either, especially when he saw your sad face above him.

“I would have preferred you to wait a while, Jason.” You stated, straight to business, as you held out your hand to pull him over.

“Well, I don’t think I had much of choice there, Doll,” He says, a cheeky smile crawling up his face as he grabs your hand. “God, how I missed you.”

With that, you let a small smile as you pulled him over, faces close to each other. “I know, missed you too,”

“Good.” Is what he utters right before kissing you as you both go into the unknown.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #Jason Todd #jason todd imagines #red hood x reader #red hood imagines #red hood #red hood headcanon #dc #DC comics #dc comics imagine

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theultimatefanficwriter · 5 years

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Kaito Momota x Reader-Without You

Requested by Crystie1234 on Wattpad Trigger Warning: Angst, suicidal reader

This place was Hell.

From the moment you arrived, you thought this. You were shoved into this school with sixteen other students and told by some weird robot bear cubs that you had to kill each other to leave. Then when you were given the hope to escape through a tunnel, it was ripped away from you.

The people you were trapped with were nice for the most part. They all had their quirks, but you didn't mind most of them. Out of all of the people here, the one you were closest to was Kaito Momota, the Ultimate Astronaut, and honestly, that wasn't even really your choice. When you met the guy, he immediately declared you his 'sidekick' and would sit beside you every day at breakfast, lunch and dinner. He'd spend as much time during the day with you as he could. He was very eccentric, but you had to admit, being around him made you happy, as if you weren't in the middle of a life or death killing game.

Then Rantaro was killed.

Any happiness you had felt went away, and all your fears returned. You were no help in the investigation, shuffling around and flinching whenever someone even so much as accidentally looked at you. The trial didn't help things. With everyone arguing and fighting, you started to become overwhelmed until-

"This is the truth behind your lies, Kaede Akamatsu, the Ultimate Pianist." The Ultimate Detective Shuichi had come up with what seemed to be the biggest stretch ever. Kaede? A killer? How could that be? She did everything in her power to encourage everyone.

But it was the truth. Everyone voted for Kaede, and you watched with terrified eyes as one of the only people to give you hope in this place was taken from you.

Once the execution was over, you trudged back to your room slowly. This place kept getting worse and worse. You didn't know how much longer you could take it, and not even Kaito's persistence of getting you to join activities and to be more social didn't cheer you up as much any more.

Two more class trials came and went, and each one made you feel less and less hopeful. You didn't think you'd ever get out of this place. At this point, you were barely more than a husk. You didn't feel anything. No happiness, no anger, no sadness, not even despair.

It wasn't for anyone's lack of trying, you'll give them that. Gonta would show you butterflies and bring you pretty flowers, and while you accepted them, the most you could muster was a weak smile that looked obviously forced even to the naive Gonta. Shuichi attempted to speak to you and cheer you up, but you could only ever give one word replies. Keebo would show you different features he had, and while you found it interesting, you could only nod between each feature. Even Kokichi would do whatever he could to try to make you laugh, and wouldn't be as harsh to you as he was to others with his teasing and lies.

But the person who tried the hardest was definitely Kaito. He would go up to you and tell you awful jokes, tell you stories about his "adventures", and drag you around to places around the school in attempts get you to "loosen up" as he said.

But nothing worked.

You tried to have fun with everyone, really. But you just couldn't muster the energy or the will. The thought of "What's the point?" kept circling around in your head.

But when Miu came to everyone and claimed to have created a safe virtual reality for everyone to escape the killing game, you felt a tinge of hope. And for the first time in weeks, you felt happy.

As you all entered the world and got used to your strange new bodies, you walked up to Kaito, a smile on your face. Kaito looked at you, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. "Hey, there's my sidekick! And you're smiling again!" He threw his arm around your shoulders, causing you to let out a soft giggle. "I was starting to worry about ya! You haven't been talking much!"

You looked up at him bashfully. "I...haven't been feeling great recently." You told him quietly.

Kaito smiled softly and ruffled your hair. "I can completely understand that. But you know ya can always come to me, right sidekick?" He asked you with a beaming smile.

You laughed softly and covered your mouth as you nodded.

Eventually everyone went to look around, going in the groups Miu had put them in. You began to go outside, but were stopped with a hand on your shoulder. You turned and saw Kaito.

"Hey." He said, smiling at you. He gestured his head to the stairs that led to the roof. "Why don't ya come with me, sidekick?" You smiled and nodded. Kaito was the person you felt the safest with here, so why wouldn't you go exploring with him? Sure, Miu had told you to go elsewhere, but two people exploring the roof would be more efficient, right? He beamed as you nodded and took your hand in his, leading you up the stairs. When you reached the top, he let go of your hand and flashed you a smile. He walked over to the railing and crossed his arms on top of it. You walked over to his side and looked over to him as he stared out into the distance. You turned to look as well, leaning on your elbows as the virtual wind blew through your avatar's hair. There was a peaceful silence.

"What's been bothering you, Y/N?" Kaito asked, breaking the quiet.

You blinked and turned to look at him. His head was turned to you, a serious look on his face. You stood up straight and scratched the back of your neck. "It's...nothing." You murmured.

Kaito rolled his eyes and straightened up, his arms falling to his side. "Cut the crap." He said sternly. "You've been avoiding everyone. I thought we were all your friends!"

"You are!" You squeaked out, backing up as you anxiously picked at your hand. Your anxiety started to pick up as your friend turned to you.

"Then why have you been acting like you hate us?" He asked in a low tone, stalking closer to you.

You began to breathe heavily. "I...I...I don't hate any of you..." You stammered out. "Please...leave me alone..."

Kaito shook his head. "No. I won't. You need to know I care about you."

You gulped as you began to hyperventilate. You continued to back up until you stumbled over your feet. With a frightened yelp you closed your eyes and braced for impact.

But it never came.

Instead, you felt a strong arm wrap around your middle. You slowly opened your eyes and saw Kaito holding you, a worried look on his face. "Whoa! Y/N, you ok?" You nodded slowly. He gave you a soft smile as he carefully brought you to a standing position, though he didn't remove his arm from your waist. Your eyes flickered up to his, and you inhaled sharply when you saw he looked genuinely worried. "Please, Y/N." He said softly. "You're my friend. I want to help. Please tell me what I can do."

You looked up into his eyes, and all the anxiety you were feeling prior melted away. You let out a shaky sigh. "I...I..." You looked to the side. "I've almost given up, Kaito." You admitted. "All of this killing, this betrayal, this..." You reached up and grasped at your hair. "It's too much, Kaito! We all trust and call each other friends, but in the end, none of it matters! It's all lies! Just... lies! Kokichi is right! Everything is a-"

You were shut up by Kaito pulling you flush against him with the arm around you, then pressing his lips against yours. You squeaked in surprise. Before you had any chance to react, he ended the kiss and placed his forehead on yours. "Don't you ever say that little shit is right ever again." The purple clothed man said quietly. "And stop saying nothing matters, because that's not true at all."

You blinked rapidly in confusion. "Wh...wha-?"

Kaito chuckled and brought his free arm up to run his fingers through your hair. "Don't I matter, Y/N?" He asked, his voice a whisper.

Your eyes widened as you nodded. "Y-yes! Yes, of course you do! You mean so much to me, Kaito!"

Kaito gave you a warm smile. "I'm glad. You mean more to me than the stars themselves." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry if I scared you earlier." He apologized softly. "I just really care about your well being."

Your mind was still reeling over what was happening. "Kaito, I'm sorry, I still don't really understand what's happening right now."

Kaito laughed. "The kiss didn't make it obvious?" He teased. He grabbed your chin gently and tilted it up. He looked down at you and smiled sweetly. "I really, really like you, Y/N." His voice was a whisper, only barely audible. After he finished his words he pulled you into a gentle kiss. Your eyes immediately fluttered closed, and you heard Kaito hum happily into the kiss. He pulled you even closer into his chest, almost protectively. The hand that wasn't around your waist rested gently on your hip, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

And then, his presence was gone.

You blinked open your eyes, which widened in confusion when you saw no one was there. "K...Kaito?" You called. "Where'd you go?"

Miu was dead.

She had been murdered, and Kaito was the main suspect because he disconnected the earliest.

And just like that your mood was even worse than before.

You were picking at your arms as the trial went on, the arguments becoming garbled nothingness. You moved your hands over to the railing and gripped it tightly, the words of your peers disappearing completely until-

"Well the killer is ooobviously Y/N!"

Your head shot up and looked over to the one who spoke. It was Kokichi, and he had on a shit eating grin like always. The rest of your peers slowly turned to look at you.

"Hmm. Well...she doesn't have an alibi." Tsumugi mused, holding a finger to her chin. "Kaito claimed he was with her on the roof when he was booted out of the game. So if Y/N was left alone, she could've found a way to kill Miu."

"W-wait a second!" You rebutted anxiously. "It...it's not me!"

"Yeah! It can't be Y/N!" Kaito yelled, slamming his fist against the railing. "If it was her, why the hell was Miu's body on the other side of the river?! Y/N couldn't have gotten to that side 'cause the bridge was out!"

"Miu was planning to meet me on the roof, remember?" Kokichi countered with a smirk. He placed his arms behind his head. "Y/N might've overheard and decided to catch her off guard." He covered his mouth in fake surprise. "Or maybe she thought I'd come up first?!"

You shook your head, taking a step back from your podium. "No. I-I didn't kill her. I swear." Kaito looked over at you worriedly.

"Y/N has been awfully quiet for a few weeks now." Maki pointed out. "Maybe she was trying to lower our expectations of her, so when she finally struck we wouldn't suspect her."

Kaito's head snapped over to Maki, and he looked angry and disappointed.

"Gonta no believe Y/N kill someone." Gonta spoke up in your defense. "Y/N may be shy and quiet, but Y/N like bugs! And anyone who likes bugs is a good person!"

"I also do not believe Y/N committed the murder." Keebo agreed. "The facts do not line up."

"Nya. But if Miu was going to the roof, then Y/N could've killed her easily." Himiko said lazily.

"Something doesn't add up here." Shuichi said, looking over at you as you held your sides tightly in fear. "This doesn't seem like the right answer."

"Because it isn't!" Kaito exclaimed. "It's not Y/N!"

"Yes it is!" Kokcihi retorted with a snicker.

"Uh oh! Looks like we have another split room!" Monokuma interrupted. "Hope's Peak Academy is happy to present, the morphanominal trial grounds!"

The podiums raised up like they had many times before. But unlike those times, the height was making your anxiety much worse. Soon they came to a stop, and just like the other times, the room was split down the middle. Kokichi, Tsumugi, Maki and Himiko were on the left, while Shuichi, Kaito, Keebo, Gonta and yourself were on the right. You gulped as you gripped the podium so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You began to breathe heavily, and your vision started to fade as you heard the argument begin.

"Y/N was alone on the roof when Miu went up there to meet with Kokichi!" Tsumugi began the debate.

"Keebo!" Shuichi called, pointing to his debate ally.

"Y/N herself said that as soon as she realized Kaito was gone she left the roof!" The robot rebutted the cosplayer's argument.

"But can we really trust her word? No one saw her leave the roof, after all." Kokichi pointed out. "She has no alibi!"

"I got this!" Shuichi announced as he glared at the purple haired boy before him. "I mentioned earlier about noticing Y/N come down the stairs to the roof! I'm her alibi!"

You crouched down to the ground as the voices seemed to get louder and louder. They were almost overwhelming.

"Nya. Even so, Y/N is the only one it could be." Himiko interjected tiredly. "She has to be the one that killed Miu."

"Gonta!" The Ultimate Detective pointed to the large man.

"If Y/N is the one that killed Miu," Gonta began, putting a finger to his chin. "Why Miu body on other side of stream?"

"She's been quiet for so long." Maki said matter-of-factly, eyes narrowed. "It's a common tactic to lower expectations so you'll never expect them to murder you."

"Kaito!" Shuichi yelled and pointed to Kaito, who looked over to Maki sadly.

"She's only been quiet 'cause she's been scared of all of you!" The astronaut snapped. "She's lost all hope because of you all!"

Everyone went quiet after that, and all eyes went to you, who was all but in the fetal position. The podiums slowly went down, and as they settled back into place, the trial slowly but surely picked but up speed, with everyone now certain you weren't the blackened.

But the damage was done.

It was Gonta.

He didn't even remember he did it. Kokichi tricked him into it, and he didn't even remember doing it. Just another blow.

You hurried along to your dorm, not paying attention to anything happening. Kokichi seemed to be doing something that caught everyone's attention, so you were able to sneak by without anyone noticing. You entered your room and locked the door. As you pressed your back against it, you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. You let out a sob as you pushed away from the door and hurried into the bathroom. You put in the stop and began to run the hot water. While you waited, you walked over and grabbed your sharpest razor. You swallowed as you tested it with you finger, letting out a wince as it bled. You let out a shaky sigh as you turned back to the tub. You turned the water off and got in, gritting your teeth at the hot water. After you had adjusted to the heat, you took the razor in your right hand and placed it against your left wrist. With one more deep sigh, you slid it across. You yelped as the blood spilled. You switched hands with your razor and prepared to do the same to the other wrist.

Directly after the trial, Kaito had planned on finding you, but he had gotten caught up in some stupid fight with Kokichi. The astronaut trainee coughed lightly and wiped away any remaining blood. He made his way straight to your room and knocked. When he didn't get a response, he knocked again, but louder. "Hey, Y/N!" He called. "It's me! I came to check on ya!"

Still no answer.

He bit his lip, getting even more worried now. He knew you had to be here. That trial obviously made your anxiety act up, so you wouldn't have gone anywhere else. He banged on the door as hard as he could. "Y/N if you don't answer I'm going to break this door down!" He threatened.

No reply.

With narrowed eyes, Kaito braced his shoulder and ran at the door. He heard a light creak, so he backed up and did it again, this time getting a loud crack as a reward. "One more time." He muttered to himself, repeated the action a last time. As he did, he tumbled into your room as the door splintered into pieces. He pulled himself to his feet and looked around your room. Noticing your bathroom light was on, he peeked his head in there. His eyes widened at the sight.

Your head was lying against the wall, both your wrists were slit open and bleeding red into the tub water. Your eyes were closed.

"Y/N!" Kaito screamed, rushing to your side. He pulled you out of the tub as quickly as he could. "Y/N, stay with me!" He pleaded. He wracked his brain for what to do. He stumbled to his feet and ran out to your broken door. "Guys! Hey! Somebody, please! Please fucking help me!"

He ran back to you, not waiting on a response. He ransacked your cabinet for anything, finding a first aid kit. He threw the lid open and grabbed the bandages. He immediately grabbed your arms and applied them, making sure to apply pressure when needed. "Y/N, please. Please don't leave me." He begged, tears filling his eyes as he moved on to your other arm. He watched as the bandages almost immediately turned completely red with blood. He just continued to add more, and more, and more, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Shuichi. The detective looked terrified, but he crouched beside Kaito.

"Here, let me." He offered, his voice shaking. Kaito nodded, moving to the side. He moved over to your body and ran his fingers through your hair.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." He muttered. "I knew you were anxious, and depressed, but I didn't see exactly how bad it had gotten." He held your soaking wet shirt tightly. "God, I love ya so much, Y/N. Please don't leave me."

"I...love ya...too...Kai....to."

Kaito's head shot down to you as he watched as your eyes slowly fluttered open. He quickly peppered kisses on your forehead. "Y/N!" He breathed. "God, you're ok. Please don't leave me."

"I'm...sorry..." You managed to say. "I...I couldn't take it anymore."

"I told you..." Kaito said, clenching his fists into your clothes as his tears fell on your arm. "You mean so much to me."

"I know..." You responded. Guilt began to hit you. "I'm...selfish."

He shook his head. "No. No you aren't. You were just stressed. They turned on you in there. You felt like the world was against you."

You managed a weak smile at Kaito. "But you didn't turn against me."

Kaito smiled and kissed you passionately. "Of course I didn't. Because I believe in ya."

You turned to look at Shuichi, who was standing up, having done all he could. "Thank you...Shuichi."

He nodded, smiling at you. "Of course, Y/N." He said softly. "Please, get some rest." He looked to Kaito and gave him a nod before leaving.

Kaito looked back at you. "Let me get you to bed." He said, standing. He picked you up carefully and brought you to your bed.

As he placed you down, you held a hand out weakly. "Stay with me." You begged.

He smiled at you and nodded, lying beside you. "Of course, Y/N."

You snuggled up beside him and closed your eyes. Kaito carefully placed an arm around you and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Y/N." He muttered. "Please. Never leave me." He gently pulled you closer to him. "We'll get through this together, I promise."

You nodded. "I..believe you Kaito." You murmured sleepily. "I know we will."

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #kaito momota #danganronpa kaito #reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #request #angst #potentially triggering #suicide attempt

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trvelyans-archive · 5 years

Text

Through the windows of Herald’s apartment, you watch the thunderstorm rage on outside. Lightning flashes, illuminating the man’s sleeping figure on the bed beside to you for a second, and the darkness that falls once more is accompanied by a low rumbling noise that you can feel reverberating in your chest. Storms are different when you’re so high up, they’re so much closer, more real. You shiver, tightening the blanket around your shoulders, and lean your head against the wall.

The clock on Herald’s bedside table reads 3:46. It’ll be at least another three hours before he wakes, and though you debate waking him up, just for some company, just so you don’t feel so lonely, you don’t. He needs his rest. He pushes himself too hard.

It doesn’t stop you from leaning over and pressing a kiss to his brow bone, just because.

You manage to untangle yourself from the blankets, drape them over him, and pad across the room in silence until you reach for the door and it opens with a loud squeak. You make a note to tell him to get it fixed. Wincing, you turn to look at him, but he’s still fast asleep, which is surprising. Normally he’s a light sleeper, which is why you’re so cautious.

He must be really tired if that doesn’t wake him up.

Your bare feet are quiet and sticky against the wooden and then tiled floors of his apartment. When you reach the living room, you don’t bother turning the lights on as you make your way over to the kitchen - you know the route by now, so much so that you could walk it in your sleep. The fridge whirs to life as you open it. You reach for one of your favourite beers on the top shelf - you never have to bring your own, because he never lets them run out - and pull it down, opening it with a loud crack.

You’ve just taken your first sip when you hear the bedroom door opening again and turn just in time to see Herald entering, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips.

“You should’ve woken me up,” he says with a frown, rubbing his eyes with two balled-up fists as he floats over to you. “Are you okay?”

Warmth spreads through your chest and you smile, nodding as you take another sip. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I just can’t sleep.”

When he reaches you, he hugs you - well, he doesn’t so much as hug you as he drapes himself over you. “You should’ve woken me up,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose against the crown of your head. “You’re hot. Like, your body, I mean.”

You place your beer can on the counter beside you and flatten your hands against his chest, one at the neckline of his shirt, the other over his heart. “You’re hot,” you say as he begins lining the right side of your face with kisses. “Go back to bed, Danny.”

Danny. The name is so sweet, as sweet as his lips as he urges his mouth up against yours softly, moving as if he’s trying to get you to say his name again. So you do. When he pulls away, he’s smiling.

“You want to watch the storm with me?” he asks, dragging his hands down the front of your chest. You’re wearing one of his hoodies, baby blue zipped up to your collarbone, and he pulls the zipper down as his hands move, bending forward to kiss the bar code on the centre of your chest as he does.

You think you might cry, so you pull his face back up until it’s level with yours.

“I want you to go back to bed,” you say with a hint of annoyance, your thumb running over the edge of the bruise that surrounds his eye. Not one of yours this time, thankfully. “You need rest, Danny.”

“I took the day off tomorrow,” he says with a shrug, and when he beams at you, for a moment, it’s like the kitchen has flooded with daylight and the storm outside has disappeared into nothingness. A sudden flash of lightning takes you about. “I thought... you know... maybe you’d want to spend the day with me.”

You smile. Your fingertips brush reverently over his cheeks, which are blank for now, for once, and then eventually settle beneath his jaw, above his Adam’s apple. “Always,” you answer. “But I have things do to. I’m sorry.”

He’s disappointed, but he bounces back quickly. He’s taught himself how to do that too well, and your heart aches for him, for a moment. “That’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ll take the day off anyway. I guess I should take a break for a while.”

“Good,” you tell him. “You need to be more careful.”

He’s standing in his dark kitchen with the enemy, and he doesn’t even know. Things would be much easier if he could read your mind too.

But he can’t, so he takes your words at face value for what he, at least, thinks they are - a sleepy whisper in the middle of the night that you’ll forget come morning. If only.

And then Herald hums in response, winding his arms around your waist, pushing you up against the counter. It’s a familiar enough position that you know exactly how high you need to push yourself up on your tip-toes to slide onto the counter, and it’s good that you do, because you can focus solely on Herald instead. No, not Herald. Danny. Danny. Danny with blonde hair the colour of apple juice, Danny with eyes as wide as plates, Danny with hands pushing up beneath your hoodie so he can grab the waistband of your pants and begin to slide them down over your thighs even though you’re in the middle of the kitchen and all you can do is think about how ridiculous that is. Still, anyway, you lift your butt up a little to help him, grinning as he takes them off.

“I’m always careful,” he says with a wink, kissing you again as your thread your fingers through his hair down to the clean shaven edge at the nape of his neck.

He’s just finished unzipping your hoodie when he lets out a massive yawn and you laugh, jumping down from the counter and grabbing his hand. “Come on, Danny,” you tell him over your shoulder as you lead him back to the bedroom. “To bed.”

“You won’t leave again, right?” he says behind you, close enough that you’re at danger of stepping on his toes. “I want you to be all cuddled up against me when I wake up. You’re cute like that, you know.”

You’re not used to him teasing you. It’s so out of the ordinary for him, but you suppose that being sleepy and recovering from getting the crap beaten out of him would affect his personality a little, especially this late at night. Or early in the morning. The jest was meant with earnestness, anyway. You turn around and place a hand on the centre of his chest, stopping him in his tracks, but you assume by his smirk that that was the point.

“I might just stay until morning,” you tell him as the door opens behind you. “If you’re lucky.”

“Mmm.” He kisses you again for what must be the thousandth time even though it gives you the same thrill as the first. “I never stop getting lucky with you, Moore, you know that?”

Except you really don’t do anything more than curl up his bed and watch the storm outside. He’s insists on being big spoon tonight, and you let him, even when he falls asleep with his face right next to your ear and snores louder than the grumbling thunder outside. You press back against his chest and he subconsciously tightens his grip on you, sliding his hand further up beneath your shirt.

You fall asleep eventually, calm in knowing that as always, you are not villain here, nor he hero; you are as small as you always feel when it storms, and you have a man wrapped around you that believes you’re human, and you’ve never believed yourself to be more human than right now, another happy man in the middle of a great wide world who is, despite everything, loved.

And Herald thinks he is the lucky one.

---

moore belongs to @sidesteppin!!! hope you don’t mind that i stole him >:)

#flystep #fallen hero retribution #fallen hero fic #fallen hero spoilers #fallen hero herald #my writing #EHHH this is kind of all over the place but i wanted to write smthing bc ur an angel and moore is Baby #so i hope u like it HH i wanna get back into writing stuff for my friends and it just turns out i felt inspired to do u first so #;)#long post

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ashes-and-ashes · 6 years

Text

~part 1~

On the day that Draco first saw Harry Potter, he was 11.

He was standing in the robe store, being measured for his 3rd pair of robes. His father’s voice rang in his head. You are a Malfoy. You must be the best, because you represent our family. Everyone else is beneath you.

So he stands there, the weight of his lineage pulling down on his shoulders. He’s only 11, but he manages to keep his chin high, keep that smirk plastered on his face. You are made of granite, he tells himself, over and over again.

He hears the door open behind him, the tinkling of the bell making him turn around slightly. There was a boy standing there, messy black hair and emerald green eyes and a scar that looks like lightning on his head. For a moment, they lock eyes, and Draco feels himself mouthing words. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

It confused Draco, how one could be so famous, and yet look so normal. Harry looked confused, one hand gripping the bottom of his T-shirt as he asks, “Um...excuse me? I need...I need new r-robes and they said to come here?”

Then the bustling came, the assistants almost bowing in their hurry to attend Harry, and Draco tore his eyes away, staring into nothingness as he tried to compose himself.

On the day he knew that Harry was his enemy, Draco was nervous.His heart pounds in his chest, sweat trickling down the back of his too-stiff robes as he stands in line. The hall was so big, candles illuminating the darkness like starlight as Draco noted the hundreds of eyes that looked up at them.

He glances over at the farthest table, the one draped in gold and crimson and lions, and his heart aches for a moment before he catches himself. He was a Slytherin, the only house he belonged in, and he forces himself to smirk, to gaze towards the silver and emerald silks at the back of the hall. For a moment, he flashes between the emerald of the table and an emerald pair of eyes, and he shrugs. There was a chance, wasn’t there? A chance for them both to be in the same house?

He shakes the thought, that familiar mask of arrogance sliding onto his face as his name is called and he strides forwards, onto the stage. He feels his heart stop as the Hat was put onto his head, but without pause, it bellows out his fate. Slytherin!

So he sits down at that table, the one of green and silver, and waits for Harry Potter to be sorted.

On the day he duelled Harry, Draco was furious.

It was second year now, him and Harry and that ridiculous dueling club that Lockheart and Snape were running. He wanted to curse Snape, turn around and bolt out the door, because why in the nine realms of hell did Snape put him with Potter?

It was always them, Draco and Harry, two sides of an ancient coin. Slytherin and Gryffindor, light and dark, the Boy who Lived and the Boy who was Damned.

He laughs at the thought, shaking it off as he turns around and stares into his enemy’s eyes and prepares to duel.

On the day he realized there was something more, Draco was injured.It started with the Hippogriff. Harry was riding it, black hair rustling in the wind, the light illuminating him from behind. Draco stood, on the hard, frozen earth, and had laughed. Because how could he not? They were enemies, the past 3 years making sure that that line was damn clear, and yet here Draco was, staring at Harry. For a moment, his eyes traced him, the hard lines and the soft edges, and he clenched his fists.

It was stupid, meaningless. It was pointless to even consider it. Draco had chosen his side, and Harry his, and nothing could change that now. They were enemies, rivals, and Draco was falling in love. He opens his hands, examining the cuts now carved into his palms, and tries to forget about Harry.

On the day that he actually talked to Harry Potter, Draco was terrified.

He was sitting in the library, behind one of the shelves, the bottle of healing potion in front of him. It sang to him, of numbness and softness and sleep, and he reaches forwards, drinking the contents. Each sip whispered of silence, each swallow another step closer to oblivion. So he sat there, drinking and drinking, anything to forget the letter.

His father had written to him, talking of marriage and happiness. Draco was only 14, still young, still whole, and he was engaged to a cousin he had never met. He takes another sip, his head spinning and his heart cracking, and he was just so damn tired.

When he hears the footsteps, Draco was too numb to do anything. He sat there, head on his lap, not even bothering to go for his wand as the person approached. He hears the footsteps stop, and he glances up, cursing, as he stares at the person he doesn’t want to see.

Harry is standing there, awkwardly shifting as he says, “Hey. Malfoy. You...you alright?” And maybe it’s the question, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s never had anyone ask him that before, but suddenly Draco is crying and Harry is awkwardly holding him, one hand wrapped around Draco’s neck. Harry smells like parchment and cool air and wood, and Draco finds himself relaxing into Harry’s arms.

On the day they met for the tenth time, it was midnight.He didn’t know how the meetings happened exactly. It was after the conversation in the library, where one thing lead to another, and soon they were meeting up in secret, just to talk.

He paces up and down the corridor, in front of that wall, thinking the same phrase over again. I want to see Harry, I wan’t to see Harry, I want to see Harry.On the third time, a highly polished door appeared, embedded in the wall. Draco doesn’t hesitate, seizing the handle and yanking the door open.It looked like an old tea shop inside, a cluster of wooden tables and chairs, candles illuminating the room. Harry was there, feet up on the table, and as Draco walks in, he smiles. “Hey, Draco.”

Draco wasn’t sure when he became Draco, and not Malfoy. The sound of his name being spoken by Harry sends a pleasant shiver through him, and he pulls out a chair, sliding into it. “Harry.”

And they talk and talk, about dead parents and muggles and silver-edged canes, and when they finally exit, it’s 4:00 in the morning.

On the day Draco realized he loved Harry, he was watching the Tri-Wizard tournament.

They were standing there, watching the Maze and the Champions, the cool air biting at their faces. Draco was lounging, pretending that he didn’t care, pretending that he didn’t give a damn whether Harry won or not. He sips his Butterbeer, eyes lazily scanning over the hedges below him.

The wand sparks came after 15 minutes.

A huge pillar of them, red and gold and white shooting into the air. All around him, people were muttering, wondering who the coward was. Draco shrugs, trying not to show his worry as he scans the maze again, because goddamn it, it better not be Harry who was hurt. He shrugs, takes another sip of the Butterbeer, anything to dull the fluttering in his stomach.

Then the scream happened.

A high pitched scream, echoing over the fields. It was the sound of someone getting tortured, someone getting hit with Crucio. Draco was standing, the bottle in pieces around his feet. He didn’t give a damn though, his heart pounding, as he watched. Please not be Harry, please not be Harry.

The muttering ceased, and Draco feels the breath whoosh out of him as he sees Fleur being carried away. Relief flows into his blood, as he collapses on the chair. It was interesting, he thinks, that he felt so strongly about someone that even the Tri Wizard Tournament scared the crap out of him. A word flashes in his head, but he ignores it, shakes it quickly, focusing instead on the maze.

It’s almost 30 minutes before he sees the figures approaching the center. Even from this far away, he can see Harry, limping, and his throat tightens. Cedric is there too, and Draco watches as they both close their hands on the cup.

And he’s never known terror, not like this, as he sees the two of them being whisked away, a blur of yellow and red. Draco is frozen, panic surging through his body, as all around him the screaming starts. He can’t do anything, can’t move, can only stand and stare at the place where the boy he loved disappeared.

On the day he kissed Harry for the first time, they were outside.

They had gone behind the greenhouses, walking through the cold air. Draco was talking, spinning a tale of silences and marble and a cold home. “It’s hard. Just...” He exhales. “You’re locked in. There’s no other way to put it. You’re locked in and you’re screaming, because all you want to do is escape, and you can’t say anything, because you have to be perfect all the fucking time.”

Harry nods, his voice soft. “I know. I know, Draco.” He reached up, brushes a stray strand of hair from Draco’s face. “It’s a prophecy. You try to live, try to escape, but you can’t. Because everything, everything, rests on you.”

Draco laughs, his voice bitter. “But that’s just the thing, right? I can’t complain. Because I’m not marked for death, I’m just slowly killing myself inside trying not to fall apart and I know that there’s something wrong with me and I have to hide it -“

Harry’s voice is firm. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Draco shakes his head. “Isn’t there?”

Harry grabs his arm, staring at Draco. Draco looks back, into the deep green eyes of his supposed enemy as Harry breathes, “No. There’s not.”

And then Harry’s leaning forwards, and Draco’s leaning forwards, and they are kissing so hard that Draco goes blind. The rain pours down on top of them, plastering Draco’s hair to his face, and he runs his hands along Harry’s back, pulling him closer, and God, he’s wanted to do this for so damn long and now they finally are together after 5 years. He can’t move, can’t talk, can’t do anything but breathe Harry in and kiss him harder as they stand there beneath the stars.

Part 2: https://the-elvish-shadowhunter.tumblr.com/post/180473477419/decided-to-make-a-part-two-because-a-few-people

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branching-paths · 5 years

Text

Of Darkness and Love

AN: I just edited this to add a read more! Gonna queue a whole lot more, get ready for more updates!!!

Okay, so my head hurt, something was caked on my clothes, and I was on something squishy soft. It felt like a bed. Anything but what I last remember, which was flying on the saddle. I heard people talking in something, it wasn't basic or Khuzdul. It sounded like- Oh crap.... I sat up and kicked whoever was near my legs. I threw a punch at whoever was at my left as my eyes flung open. Pitch black nothingness met me, but it didn't stop me. Someone was moaning on the floor behind what ever I was laying on, another was trying to block my next punch by his ruffling clothes. I kicked at him, bent my leg and hooked it against his knee. I pulled and he went down with a yelp. I brought my arms back up to block in case anyone else was in the room. The door creaked open and I ran towards it.

"Whoa, hey Myrin," Kili said as I grabbed his shirt collar and readied to punch him. I was expecting someone to be trying to exit, not come in. "Could you let me go," He asked nervously. "Where in Durin's name am I," I snarled as I let go. "Rivendell," Fili said behind Kili. "What was that- You knocked out Estel?!" Fili rushed past me and disappeared from sound. "How are you two walking around," I shouted. "It's pitch black in here! Is it midnight or something?!" "Nooo....... It's actually around one in the after noon," Fili said. I turned towards where his voice came from. "Then open the shutters or something," I shouted at him. Silence for a few minuets. I felt something in front of my face, blowing air into it. I caught someone's hand. "What are you doing," I asked whoever's hand I caught. "Can you see what my face is doing," Kili asked, pulling his hand out of my grip. I snorted. "I can't even see my own nose." Someone moaned behind me. "You never said she could punch like Elladan," Some guy moaned. I think he was Estel, because that was the last place Fili's voice had come from. More silence. Someone took my hand and pulled it towards the door, I think. "Maybe you should see Oin," Fili said, pulling me along. I almost made a smart-alek comment, but I ran into something, so I yelped. "Definitely see Oin," Fili said, pulling me towards nothingness. Someone came running towards Fili and I, then grabbed my hand. "Estel's waking up Elrohir, then they're going to Elrond," Kili said, patting my hand. I frowned, since when did Fili and Kili get along with Elves? I supposed they were elves, since we we're in Rivendell. A few more minuets of walking in nothingness, then I felt something about five inches in front of my face. The squeak of a doorknob and hinges, then Kili lead me inside the room. Fili followed inside and let go of my hand. Kili did too, and I felt a little helpless. "Glad you're up Myrin," Oin said. A chair moved across some sort of stone and Oin grunted. "So am I," I growled. "You normally keep eye contact, yet you aren't," Oin commented, from a different spot in the room. I turned towards him. Then someone touched my arm. I grabbed the arm and twisted it around. "Ouch," He growled. I let go. "Sorry," I mumbled. A few more silent seconds. "What number am I holding up," Kili asked. I sighed and lowered my arms. "Forty eight," I growled. "I don't know!" Someone grabbed my hand and shoulder, then shoved down, so I sat down in a chair. Someone covered my eyes with their hand, then removed it a few times, back and forth. "Everything looks okay," Oin said. I snorted. "Stay here, I have to go get E- erh...... Someone...." Oin opened the door and stomped out. Fili and Kili, if they were still in the room, were silent. Someone walked in on silent feet with I think Oin. I suspect it was an Elf, because of their silent footsteps. "Welcome back Myrin," He said kindly. I cocked my head, listening to him but not showing that I heard him. "Your healer told me that you can't see anything," He continued, getting closer and closer as he talked. He stopped in front of me, or behind me. His voice was right above my head, so I couldn't tell. Something touched the back of my head and pain shot through my head. I grunted and wrinkled my face. Man, that hurt! "Please tell me how you came by this," The elf said. "I was leading some Orcs away, and something hit my head," I said rudely. Thorin wasn't the only one with a grudge. "Was it a rock, or something else," He pushed. I raised my shoulders. "It. Was. Something. Hard! I don't know what it was! I know it bounced off my head. As if that helps...." "It actually does," The elf said standing up. I felt his eyes boring into me, and I didn't like it one bit. "Could you not do that," I growled at him, turning around. "Do what," He asked. "Whispering about me! So maybe I can't see, but I can still hear. What were you saying?" A few silent moments, during which Fili and Kili were hissing. "You've gone blind-" "Duh!" "-Because of a concussion. You might get it back, you might not." He paused and let it sink in. I growled and leaned back in my chair. Rubbing my face, I growled a little more. I shoved my thumbs under my arms and whistled. "Well, that's unexpected," Kili said. "What," I asked. "You're taking this well..." In truth, I wasn't. On the outside, yeah, but inside... was a different story. Have you ever seen someone go on a rampage, breaking everything in their way? Okay, now imagine someone huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth in the fetal position. I was something like that on the inside. "I think Oakenshield might want to know," The elf said, patting my shoulder. Crap.....

I stood in Elrond's study, touching a velvety armchair and biting my bottom lip. Elrond was sitting at what I think was his desk. What ever I ran into when he brought me in here. It was wood, and sturdy, covered with papers, so I assumed it was a desk. Thorin, Bilbo and Gandalf were in there also, scattered around the room. I could hear a fire, despite it being the middle of June, the twenty second to be exact. "Are you sure you can't help," Bilbo pressed Elrond. "She's blind unless-" "Yes, Bilbo," Elrond said, somehow showing nothing in his voice. Maybe a hint of compassion towards me, but it was emotionless. "I thought elven magic could do anything," Thorin sneered from over by the fire. I could almost see Elrond, what ever he looked like, turn his gaze at Thorin and almost frown at him. Elves didn't show emotions, ever. "No, not everything," Elrond nearly sneered back. Thorin snorted again, my turn to glare at him. I hoped it was him, at least. "To the left about two feet Myrin," Gandalf said. Okay, so I was glaring at Gandalf... Oops. "She is welcome to stay here-" "No," I said, interrupting Elrond. "I will not stay here." I fingered the hem of the chair, feeling the stiches in the velvet as the tension in the room rose. "We'll talk about it in the morning," Gandalf said, releasing the tension. Someone took my hand, I think it was Bilbo, and pulled gently at it. I shoved off the chair and followed the hobbit. Food met my nose, and my mouth watered. Wonderful, wonderful food! The smell left us as we turned to the left. "Where are we going," I asked. "To the dining pavilion," The hobbit said.

Four days past before anything more happened. I was getting acquainted with the elves Fili and Kili befriended. Estel, Elladan, and Elrohir were Lord Elrond's sons. He also had a daughter, but she made a point to stay away from her brothers. The boys were trying their hardest to keep me entertained, but I couldn't see anything... That put a huge damper on their entertaining, but it didn't damper their enthusiasm. All the company took turns leading me around, trying to explain what Rivendell looked like to me, but I didn't care. I would have been living here if a snake hadn't bitten me when I was little. On day five, Bofur brought me a staff thing he made to help me walk around. It was like a cane, but made of a piece of oak, sanded and polished until it was smoother then the best crafted marble. Day six I was getting my way around pretty well. I knew where my room was, the dining pavilion and Elrond's study. I only knew where that was because I had to pass it whenever I went out. Lakita stayed in the garden closest to my quarters, and woke me up every morning by sticking her head in the window and squeaking at me. It was rather adorable, hearing her squeak. My hearing was getting better, now that I had to rely on it more. That's actually what kept an apple from breaking my nose. I caught it as it whizzed towards me. "Nice," Thorin said from the door of the garden. I held the apple in my hands, rubbing it. "What are you doing here," I asked. Thorin walked towards me and grabbed my shoulder gently. "Just seeing how you're doing," He said quietly. I shrugged. "Okay, I guess...." Thorin kissed my cheek. "Hey, someone will see," I hissed at him. Thorin chuckled as he pulled his head away. "Nobody's-" "Hey, dinner's ready," Kili called. I heard him prance up the hall as Thorin backed away. I grabbed my pole from the crook of my arm and walked towards the steps leading out of the garden. The end of the pole hit the bottom step and I jumped up the rest. I could hear Thorin following, almost silently behind. We walked towards the dining pavilion that Elrond had graciously given us to eat in. Apparently, the first dinner he had with the company ended in a food fight. Bombur had found a stash of meat in the kitchen and used that in his cooking, it was better then the vegetarian diet the elves were trying to eat off of. I sat at my spot on the table and listened to the conversation at hand. Dori was reprimanding Ori for bringing his slingshot to the table again, and smacking every other elf with an acorn, while Nori was applauding him. Bombur was munching away at something, while Bifur was mumbling something to Bofur, who was laughing every other sentence. Gloin and Oin were just eating, Balin and Dwalin talking about a book or something of that sort. Fili and Kili were talking about a recent prank on Lindir with Bilbo. I dug into my stew and listened. "What do you think Myrin will do," Balin asked Dwalin quietly. I heard Dwalin grumble. "Depends how Thorin will go about it," he breathed. "If he says it bluntly, she might strangle him. If he goes around it, maybe-" Thorin cleared his throat and everything went silent. "We've discovered something in Thror's map," Thorin said at the head of the table. "We have to get to Erebor before Durin's Day if we are to enter the mountain, which means we have to leave before Friday, at the latest." Thorin paused for a while. "Because of this, and for everyone's safety, I have elected to leave Myrin behind." My stomach dropped and I choked on my stew. I pounded on my chest and something flew out. "I know a few of you might think-" "That's it's idiotic," Kili yelled. "How many times has Myrin saved our sorry hides so far?" "I understand Kili," Thorin assured. "But she's gone blind. We can't have her fall behind when an Orc pack raids the camp." "Haven't I got a say in this," I shouted. Silence met me. "I'll take that as a yes. Sure, I've gone blind! I also can hear better then the rest of you. Give me two other good reasons I can't go, Thorin." Thorin huffed. "Gladly," He growled. "We have to cross the mountains, and the path we have to take is narrower then your head at times. There are also Stone Giants up there." I snorted. "They're a myth," I shouted. "You could say the same about Lakita," Gloin said. As the conversation turned to a shouting match, Balin raised his voice above everything. "Take a vote," He shouted. "All in favor of leaving Myrin behind for her safety, say Aye!" A few seconds past before Bilbo, Fili, Kili, Thorin, Bofur, Dori, Nori, Ori, and Balin shouted "Aye." "Those in favor of me going," I shouted. Nobody raised their voice, much less breathe. I growled and stood up, snatching my pole from the table where it was leaned up. "Alrighty then," I said. "If anyone wants to say their goodbyes, I'll be in my room...." "We aren't going to be leaving until Thursday," Balin reminded. "Why wait," I asked. I grabbed my cup, which had a wonderful concoction of vegetables and fruits in it and sipped on it as I walked out. I stopped in the doorway, swirled my drink and turned around silently. I walked over to Thorin's chair, made sure he was in it still and dumped the contents of my cup down his shirt. Now, I was sipping something that had crushed ice in it, so imagine that down your back. And it didn't smell that good either. Thorin shouted and I couldn't help but smile. I trudged back to my room, only running into a pillar once.

I walked back into my room, a sappy smile on my face. Fili and Kili had thrown me a going away party, sort of, and I had the best time of my life. Bombur had broken the table he was sitting on, Thorin and Bilbo arrived fashionably late, and Gandalf even made an appearance, but he had to leave early on. The elves made it a point to stay away, as we made it a point to shout, and launch sticky rolls at someone who came near. And I mean sticky rolls. They clung to an elf maid's hair the other day, right next to the scalp, and she was wearing a head cap last I heard. It still didn't help that the company was leaving tomorrow, but the party did brighten my spirits. I leaned my pole up against the wall next to the door and shuffled over to my bed. I rubbed my head as I sat on the bed, glad that I was able to take a bath the other day. Someone knocked on my door. "Come in," I said. The door creaked open and shut softly. I 'watched' the door and waited for someone to speak, but nothing did. "Can I help you," I asked, wondering if someone had just pranked me. Probably Nori if anyone did. "There you are," Thorin said, walking over. "You want to take a stroll?" I cocked my head. "Why do you want to," I asked. "You should be in bed, getting ready for an early morning." I stood up and walked over to the door. "Like that's going to happen," He growled thoughtfully. He opened the door and wrapped his arm around mine. We walked out and down a hall, into a new part of Rivendell. The aroma of flowers in bloom flooded my nose, giving me a calm moment. "Where are we at," I asked. "Not entirely sure," Thorin admitted. "I found it when we arrived, figured you might want to see it for yourself. Or in this case, hear it." Thorin explained what the garden looked like, and what the flowers were. It seemed beautiful, and the way Thorin was describing it, and his enthusiasm about it, it must of been. That or he was stalling. Probably the latter. "Why did you elect to leave me behind Thorin," I asked suddenly. "Myrin, we've been over this-" "That was when there were others around. Now that they aren't listening, tell me the real reason." Thorin was silent for a while. "It was the right thing to do," He said at last. "What about leave no dwarrow behind," I growled back. "Leave no one behind only when they can continue," Thorin said gently. He touched my cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb. I had half a mind to bite it. "I don't want to leave you behind Myrin." That's when I did bite it. I thought Thorin might growl at me, or stomp away, but he just chuckled. A few more moments past, then Thorin walked up to me and grabbed my shoulders. "Will you do something for me," He asked. I snorted. "I'm your confident, so I kinda have to do what you say," I reminded him. "Forget about that." "What?!" "Forget about your job for a minuet," Thorin said again. "I'm asking the day-off, part of you." I cocked my head. "Depends what that is," I said, absent minded. "May I take your hand?" I rolled my eyes and lifted up my hand, palm hopefully towards him. "You can't take it, but you can look at it- What are you doing," I asked as he messed with one of my fingers. He bent my finger down and slid something onto it, and it felt eerily familiar. "Just giving you something," He said softly. "Try not to loose it please," He added after a moment's hesitation. I felt my hand, wondering what he gave me. It was a ring..... I felt it and discovered what it looked like. Two little dragons wrapped around my finger some sort of stone inbetween the two where their heads met. It was on my left hand too, but I wasn't sure if that was better or worse. I cleared my throat and lowered my hand. "What's this for," I asked. I knew what it was, but I wanted him to say it, just to make sure. I heard him shuffle, and take a deep breath. "Myrin, you are my Amralime," Thorin began slowly. "I can't live without seeing your smile every day, or hearing your beautiful laughter. I ask that you would marry me, and become my queen." Khuzdul tradition was in play now. I could either take the ring off my finger, throw it at him and reject him completely, or compose my own little speech about why I should marry him. But seeing as I wasn't completely dwarf, I was going to go off the path a little. "Why should I marry you," I asked, sticking my chin out a little. I restrained the laughter bubbling in my throat as I waited for Thorin to respond. "In truth, you probably shouldn't marry me," He said at last. "I mean, if you go by class, we're opposite ends of the ladder, and I know I have quite a temper, I'm pigheaded and I don't listen to anyone-" I frowned. "Where are you going with this," I asked. "You just listed why I shouldn't..." "I don't know where I'm going with this, but Balin said to follow my heart when-" "YOU TOLD BALIN?!" "No, I didn't!" "Then how'd you get his advice?!" "I told him when this was all over, I might ask some lass, and I needed some help!" I growled and held my forehead in my hands. "You are an idiot, but I love you for that," I said with a chuckle. I pulled my head up and smiled. "What," Thorin said. I burst out laughing. Yep, definitely an idiot. "Of course I'll marry you," I shouted at him. Thorin breathed out, and laughed. He stood up, and embraced me in a death hug, kissing me on the way to my shoulder, where his head was resting. I wrapped my arms around his neck, happy tears falling down my face. I buried my face into his coat, the fur tickling my nose. Well, that little tickling made me sneeze. My head slammed down on his shoulder, and my nose broke with a loud snap. What a wonderful way to ruin a perfectly good moment! I pulled away from Thorin, my hands holding my nose, blood running into my mouth, as that was the only thing I could breath through.Thorin laughed and grabbed my face, turning it gently. "Kinda need you to move you hands so I can see the damage," He said. I swallowed, grimaced and removed me hands from my nose. Thorin chuckled again. "Bwaht," I asked. I opened my eyes. My breath caught in my throat, my mouth hung open. Even if I could breath through my nose, it would of hung open. Thorin looked at me, confusion written on his face. I grabbed his beard and pulled him to my lips. Sure it squished my nose, but I couldn't care at the moment. I could see again!!!!! Thorin pulled away and wiped his face/beard of blood. "Ey cadd thea eggane," I shouted. I looked around, a bright smile on my face, as much as you could smile with your mouth open. The garden was even better then what Thorin described it as. It was around ten in the night, but despite that the garden was in full bloom with nocturnal flora. Evening Primroses were scattered everywhere in the flower beds, with Moon Flowers planted near. Night bloom lilies were in the pond just beyond where I was standing, a little stream trickling into it. A full moon was flooding the entire garden, making everything shine. "Hold still," Thorin said, grabbing my face again. "It's almost like you want to break your nose again!" I rolled my eyes and held still so he could set my nose. Pain shot through my nose again as he set it, but it faded away. "What did you say," Thorin asked. I looked at him and realized how messy he looked. Hair ratted and tangled, and he honestly looked tired. "Yew sure are bessy," I said, rubbing his hair. Then it dawned on me. "Ey cadd go wif! EY CADD GO WIF!!!" I flung my arms around Thorin's neck again and squeezed, getting him to wheeze. He poked my arm. "AIR," He hacked. "Dobby," I mumbled, letting go. Thorin took a deep breath. "Bwut Ey cad thea eggane...." Thorin looked up at me and I smiled. "Did you just say you can see," Thorin asked, an even bigger smile on his face then mine. I nodded, flashing a bright toothy grin. He laughed and picked me up, spun me around, set me back down and embraced again. My turn to shout "AIR!"

"Should we tell them," I asked Thorin on the way back to my room. The past few hours we had been exploring Rivendell, avoiding the elves that patrolled and windows. It was beyond definition, and any you would try to give would fall very short. It was around midnight now, and both of us were yawning now. That's why we were going to our separate rooms. Thorin squeezed my hand and looked at me. "I don't think so," He said at last. "Dwalin would kill us for just dating each other, then Fili and Kili would kill us for not telling them-" "Okay, I get it," I said, running my shoulder into his. "Don't tell anyone." We rounded the corner and came to my door. Thorin let go of my hand and smiled at me. "Good night Myrin," He said with a wave of his arms and a deep bow. On his way back up he grabbed my hand and kissed it. He rose the rest of the way and I hugged him. "Night Thorin." I let go of Thorin and walked into my room. I had four walls, like most rooms, but these walls were different. One had railing halfway up, the rest was like a window. That lead right to a garden, where Lakita was sleeping soundly under an old aspen. Half of the wall to the right of the window was a closet, the other half was a mirror. The last wall, besides the one that I entered through was where the four poster bed was, and that took up the entire corner. I walked over to the mirror and looked in. My hair was still in the simple braid I had put it in a few days ago. I had a white shirt on with baggy sleeves, my half vest over that was open. I had black leggings on, and boots, my boots were covering my feet. I guess when you can't see anything you don't really care much about how you look. That was going to change. I pulled my braid in front of me and undid it, setting the chain I used to tie it together to the side and taking a ribbon from the dresser in front of the mirror. I re did my braid and tied it with the ribbon. I washed my face of blood, thanks to the wash bowl on the dresser. After I dried my face, I was so out of it, I didn't even remember getting to the bed.

Well, something woke me up, but I could figure out what it was. I peeled my sticky eyes open and squinted at the bright sunlight flooding my room. Lakita didn't have her head through the window, so it wasn't that. Someone knocked at my door again, that must of been what woke me up. "What do you want," I growled, really not meaning to. I got out of the bed and waddled over to the dresser and started to pull out of the satchel I had shoved in there a few days ago. "Ma'am, your companions are going to be leaving shortly," An elf said. "Would you like me to request that they wait?" "How soon," I asked. "Five minuets." "YES!" I shoved all the clothes into the satchel I could and grabbed my swords from next to the door. I grabbed my bow from under the bed and quiver. I shouldered them and burst out the door, past the elf that was slowly walking down the hall. I knew where they were going to meet before they left, and that's where I was heading. It was the pavilion/bridge/entry hall to Rivendell, where the company apparently got a scare of their lives. "Madame, please be careful, you might run into something," The elf called. Another was passing down the hall, coming towards me. "Myrin, what happened to your face," He yelled. He stepped in front of me, so I took a step left, but he blocked it. "Get out of my way," I shouted. I shoved through him and went back to running. That's when I ran, literally, into some tall dark haired elf with a silver circlet. We tumbled to the floor, elf and dwarf curses ringing through the halls. I scrambled off him and held my pounding head. First, my nose broke, then I run into this guy, and he just happened to smack my nose. "Thanks mister elf," I growled at him. "What are you doing running like that through the halls," Elrond ask. I think I liked it when I couldn't see him... I removed one of my hands and glared at him. "Catching up with my company," I growled at him as I stood up. Elrond stood up and brushed himself off. He held out his arm, I glared a little more at him. "I can walk!" "Ah, I see," He said. "Your vision has returned. Well... I can't say that I will miss your company, but I am sorry to see you go." I looked up at him, my glare gone. "Why's that?" Elrond pressed his already thin lips into a line line. "We shouldn't keep them waiting," He said, gesturing for me to take the lead. I rolled my eyes and lead the way into the pavilion thing. I had a feeling he knew something I didn't. The rest of the company was already there, and Lakita was apparently conversing with Thorin's pony. I sat on the rail of the stairs and slid down, bowling over Fili and Kili. "What are you doing here," Kili asked. I pulled myself to my feet and helped him up. "Going with, what else," I asked. "Miss Flamebird has regained her eye sight," Elrond said, coming down the stairs normally. Tackle Time! Once everyone was done hugging, we mounted our steeds and rode out of Rivendell. On our way out, I noticed that Bilbo was looking back. I rode up next to him. "Hey, everything okay," I asked. Bilbo shrugged. "Elrond said I could stay if I wanted to," He said with a sigh. "And you're having second thoughts?" Bilbo nodded. "Don't know if this helps, but I have been traveling like this all my life, most of the time without food or rain gear. Look at me, aren't I fine?" Bilbo looked at me and smirked. "You aren't fine, you're senile," The hobbit said. "Not to mention a little....odd at times!" "Hobbit, Myrin, will you quit lagging about," Thorin shouted from ahead of the path. Bilbo looked up at him, frowned and rode forward, casting a look at me the same second I stuck my tongue out at Thorin.

We had been travelling for a few hours, and it was blissful. Fili and Kili were making fools of themselves again, Ori was scribbling something in his notebook, probably what ever the boys were doing. Dori was giving him encouragement, while Nori munched on some bread from the elves. Bombur was talking with Bifur about cooking, while Bofur was talking with the hobbit. Dwalin and Balin were in hushed conversation, Oin and Gloin reading herbal charts. Gloin looked around, forgetting the chart and smiled at Fili and Kili, a wistful look on his face. I knew that look all too well, he was going to start bragging about Gimli again, and I wasn't the only one that noticed it. "I know Gloin has a wonderful family, but does anyone else," Bilbo shouted as Gloin took a deep breath to start his brag. All eyes shifted over to Bombur, who was getting red under the beard. "I've a wonderful wife named Jezel, and we've had oh say, twelve dwarflings so far," He said proudly. "Five beautiful wee lasses, and seven strapping lads!" Bilbo nodded and looked around, frowning. "Does anyone have a lady," Bilbo asked. "Or a man," He added quickly, looking at me. "Oh aye, I've got plenty on my heels," Bofur said with a smirk. "I do too," Fili said. "Me three," Kili added, and that's when everyone burst out laughing. "What's so funny," Kili asked, sounding offended. "There is no way that you've a lass under my watch," Thorin said, brushing a tear from his eye. "Either of you, even if you are the only ones out there for the picking!" More howls of laughter from the dwarrow. "Well what about you and his secret lass," Bofur asked. Thorin shut up and looked at Bofur. "Had she grown tired of you when you left?" "Oh no, she's anything but tired of me," Thorin chuckled. "I should think that she thinks more of me, since I've gone to reclaim Erebor." I lifted up an apple from my satchel and threw it at his head. It bounced into his lap. "Or maybe she think's it was a hair brained idea to go," I corrected. "YOU KNOW HER," Kili shrieked. I should think I would! I looked at Kili and smirked. "Yep, I know her actually, we met while you three were heading for the Shire," I lied. On the outside, I was calm, just a little red from laughing so hard just a while ago, but on the inside was I a laughing stock, and it was bubbling over into my face. "What's she like," Fili asked. I put my finger to my chin and tapped it, pretending to think. "Well, she's very pretty, very skilled and I said pretty right?" "Oh please," Thorin said. "She's not all that beautiful, but I rather like her character- STOP THROWING APPLES AT ME!" He picked up the second apple in his lap and threw it back at me. "That lady is very beautiful, and I would think she would agree with me!" That did it for Thorin, he burst out laughing and slumped forward in his saddle, his voice ringing through the fields, maybe even past the Edge Of The Wild. "Myrin, you seem to know all about Thorin's lady, but do you have a gentleman of your own," Gandalf asked, looking back. I pursed my lips and looked back towards the wizard. "I should think that I do," I shouted at him. Fili and Kili went ballistic. "AND YOU ALL KNOW HIM, or maybe the wizard and hobbit won't, BUT THE REST OF YOU DO!" Everyone shut up, and the only thing I could hear was the wind in the bushes and sparse trees. The rest of the day, I had this dopey look on my face, and I would blow kisses to any of the dwarves, who would shudder and avoid me, but that wouldn't stop my air kisses.

#thorin/oc #Thorin Oakenshield #the hobbit #rivendale #bilbo #bilbo baggins #fili #kili #the company #elrond #gandalf #throinxoc #imladris #eladan #elohir #oh nooo #this is so sappy #and embarrassing #but its mine

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kbstories · 6 years

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And with this third chapter, the fic is complete!

Only Lost The Night

Tags: Recovery, First Kiss, Fishing (non-graphic)

No additional spoilers apply.

>>Read on AO3

<<First Chapter

<<Second Chapter

The coffee comes out of the pot piping hot, quickly warming his mug and filling the morning air with its scent.

Arthur downs it in big gulps, wincing as it burns down his throat. The bad taste in his mouth is gone, though, and his queasy stomach settles with something to digest. The cold sweat he wakes up in every morning, or the tremor in his hands, well – recovery, as it turns out, is one tough son of a bitch, much more so when your alcohol supply is out of reach.

A sigh worms its way out his mouth, clouding white in front of him. There's precious little for him to do in camp – he can barely raise his left arm higher than chest height without pulling some wound or other – and most of the gang's inner workings come along well without his input.

This must be the longest Arthur's been off duty in... a while. It's disorienting, to say the least.

It doesn't help that, additionally to Miss Grimshaw's care – a duty she caries out with a gruff undertone in her voice but an indulgent glint in her eyes –, Charles has been watching him like a hawk, grumbling about his hard work going to waste otherwise.

Arthur would be the first to admit that drinking himself into a stupor a week into his mandatory bedrest was not his brightest moment. It definitely beat sitting on his ass all day long, doing fuck-all to earn his keep.

At this rate, he'll end up going to the dogs like Uncle. Isn't that a fun thought to entertain?

Even now he can feel the man's gaze on him, all the way across camp. Arthur raises his mug in the general direction of Charles's usual post, and plants himself on one of the logs surrounding the camp fire. See, I can be good, too.

A lazy salute is his meagre reward. Arthur shakes his head, only noticing the smile on his own face when he goes to light a cigarette. Drawing deep, he exhales slowly, finding himself enjoying the bite of nicotine on his tongue instead of merely going through the motions.

Maybe he can ask Hosea for one of them crime novels he's been so involved with lately. How was the author called again? Arthur flicks the excess ash to the ground, chasing the name on the tip of his tongue. Nope, gone. Never been his strongest suit, books, but Jack's seems interested too as of late, and with how things have been, the boy deserves some hero's tale or other to dream of.

… not one of Hosea's, then. God knows the kid sees enough blood and death as is.

Gaze lost in the fire and with nowhere else to go, Arthur's thoughts drift like smoke in the wind. To Jack, and how somewhere in this mess, he became Uncle Arthur to him. About that boy Kieran, so desperate for somewhere to belong it's painful to watch at times, and John, who had it all and disappeared who-knows-where all the same. Dutch and Hosea and that ever-shifting dream they keep chasing.

And yet his fingers itch for... something more, something to touch, to hold on to, like a pen or a gun or–

A genuine connection, to tether his very being to something bigger than himself. What if, Arthur thinks.

What if, what if.

He blows another puff into the sky and watches it disappear into nothingness.

“Okay. Hunting. Nothin' fancy, just a doe or two. Need practice with that bow, right? Takes a lifetime to master, an' all that–”

“No.”

“Oh for... One ride. To– to the general store in Rhodes, or, uh, to the tree line and back. A glimpse at the fields.”

Charles hitches his elbow on his knee, hand under his chin. “No”, he repeats, the low, serious timbre of his voice crumbling with veiled amusement. A searching gaze is leveled on Arthur, the kind to reveal every weakness hiding under his skin.

“Is that what it takes, Morgan? Two weeks in camp?”

“Ain't beggin' yet”, Arthur mumbles under his breath and throws Charles an unhappy look – Charles, who is currently sitting cross-legged on his saddle stand, confident as a king and entitled like one, too. Behind him, Dyani sniffs Charles's hair and pushes it around with her nose, rubbing his shoulder in the process.

It took Arthur weeks of constant work (and treats) to get the hang of the Andalusian's fickle temper and here they are, chummy like old friends. Traitors, the lot of them. Arthur's shoulders slump in defeat.

“Fine, have it your way.”

The statement isn't immediately followed by action, however. The mere thought of wasting more hours walking a line into the dirt, watching people come and go and feeling their sympathetic eyes on him is revolting to an almost physical degree. Arthur stares at his cot, just a few feet away, and can't bring himself to move.

“Arthur.”

Just his name, without pity. He closes his eyes and rubs his neck, staring at his boots as he struggles to find the right words.

“Just feelin' useless, is all. Can't do nothin' for weeks now an' with the O'Driscolls and whoever else breathin' down our necks... Ain't the man I am, Charles. To sit around an' wait for things to happen.”

A rustle of movement makes him glance up. Charles hops to his feet, easy as anything, and Arthur barely registers he's throwing something until he's grabbed it. A fishing rod? Arthur tilts his head with a frown.

“But you–”

“Teach me”, Charles says simply, and all Arthur can do is shut his mouth and nod, trying (and failing) to ignore how warm his chest feels.

Little by little, the smooth lines of graphite connect, fill in blank space, spill over the shadowed fold between the pages and beyond.

The gentle rocking of the boat, the rhythmic lapping of water against lacquered wood, the sting of a wound, still healing – it all fades into the background, there but muted as his attention is bracketed by the edges of his journal.

With the sun warming his back, Arthur draws.

In front of him sits Charles, leaning back just as he is, feet propped up against the boat's curved hull. Rod and line in place, his eyes are alert and search the surface of the lake for any movement, the very picture of endless patience. The breeze plays with a loose strand of his hair before he reaches up and tucks it away.

Charles fishes, and Arthur draws... him.

(Arthur's sketch of Charles by @ISpitznagel)

His shoulder doesn't allow him to sit as he usually does, legs folded close to his chest and journal balanced on his knees, angled away so nobody can see what he's working on. The members of the gang quickly learned that whoever tries is more likely to catch a fist to the jaw than a glimpse at his sketches. What is to others a collection of landscapes and animals and the odd person, to Arthur, well...

Things in his life don't have the best relationship with permanence, as it were. He'd rather commit what he can to paper before they inevitably disappear too.

Charles asks later, “What do you think of when you draw?”, when the light has grown too weak to keep going and Arthur reached for his pack of cigs to occupy his hands instead. Arthur, who drew in his lap instead of on his knees and knows that Charles saw.

He finds he doesn't mind one bit.

“Depends”, he mutters, stretching his legs out as far as the narrow boat allows, bumping against Charles's hip. “Sometimes nothin', sometimes somethin' I can't put words to just yet. Just keepin' track of things, in my own way. Makes 'em less unfathomable, if I may borrow one of them fancy terms.”

Charles snorts, “You may”, his grin there and gone in a flash. He's set aside the fishing rod – with the bucket they brought along filled to the brim with fish, there wouldn't be anywhere to put them anyways –, merely watching Arthur smoke now.

“Never was much the artistic type, myself. Looks all a bit like magic to me.”

Arthur grins back, offering him a cig of his own. Charles shrugs and takes one out of the box, leaning close to the match Arthur lights for him; his face is momentarily lit by its flaring tip, his eyes reflecting the embers' glow.

Their fingers brush and Arthur hums, exhales another smoke-filled breath into the night sky.

“Well I'd show you how, Charles, but if you take to it as quickly as fishin', what unique skills would that leave me with?”

Charles shrugs. “I can think of some”, he counters easily, another step in this dance of theirs that they slip into on nights like these. Teasing words wrapped around tender spots and soft-spoken secrets. Arthur takes the compliment for what it is, shaking his head fondly.

They smoke. Arthur tells Charles of the time he went fishing with Jack, months ago now; how hard it had been for the kid to focus on the fish, and less so on picking flowers.

“Seems the creative sort, you know? Better to let 'em make things. Kid's too young for all this crap we keep puttin' him through.”

“Does Marston know, though?” Charles sighs. “Some days it seems to me like you're more of a father to that boy than he is.”

Arthur frowns, rubs at his chest and that dull ache that, years later, is still there.

“Well, in some ways... Can't up and leave for a year an' expect things to remain the same, I guess. But John cares, or at least I think he does.” A pause. “'cause that's the thing, ain't it? Dutch taught us to give a shit 'bout family an' whatnot but, John an' I, we ain't got the same charisma he does. 's one of those things that's easier said than done.”

For a while, Charles says nothing. Just sits and smokes, looking into the distance. Turning some thought or other in his head, Arthur assumes. Eventually: “Guess you're right. Just doesn't feel good, seeing a kid on the run. Too much of that, as of late.”

“Ain't that the truth”, Arthur nods, righting himself to shake off some of the somber mood weighing on his shoulders. Smirking, he nudges Charles's knee with his own. “Just glad he stuck by that when them O'Driscolls got me. Didn't know I was even worthy of the best damn rescue squad we got.”

Charles's eyes snap to his then, narrowing a fraction. “Huh?”

“Dutch, I mean. An' you.”

“Oh.” That peculiar expression vanishes, Charles's face all-too-neutral. “Guess so”, he repeats, and Arthur draws back a little.

“Did I, uh–“ Glancing down, Arthur fiddles with the burned-out stub, staining his fingers with ash. “Didn't mean no offense, Charles. Been complainin' a lot but I wouldn't be here at all without you. Just wanted to let you know, 'm takin' none of that for granted.”

Suddenly Charles's hand is there, giving Arthur's a gentle squeeze. “Hey. That's not what I meant. Was just somewhere else, there.”

Automatically, Arthur squeezes back.

“Point still stands. Thank you.”

A quiet chuckle reels him back in, as it always does these days, “I'd do it again in a heartbeat, you know that”, and Arthur can't not look up at those words, searching his expression for– What, exactly?

What if, what if. The distance is gone, Charles's gaze warming further as Arthur's thumb brushes over the scarred back of his hand, feeling the calm rhythm of his pulse against his.

“What are we doing, Charles?”

The question is soft, said without any idea where it's headed: a road untraveled, missing from every map yet waiting to be explored.

Charles blinks, taken off guard. He opens his mouth, hesitates, admits, “Whatever you want us to”, sounding just as vulnerable as Arthur feels.

A split-second decision: Arthur tugs, Charles follows, catching himself against the boat. “Arthur”, he whispers, close enough Arthur can feel his breath on his face.

Arthur rasps, “Tell me to stop”, but Charles never does; he leans in, interlacing their fingers in the same moment their lips meet, tentatively – Arthur's eyes flutter shut, his fingers find the collar of Charles's shirt blindly, pull him ever-closer as he melts into it.

They barely part between one kiss and the next; Arthur murmurs Charles's name with the little breath he can catch, and “Fuck”, as Charles's tongue pushes into his mouth and he tastes smoke. His blood sings, throbbing in his veins in a dizzying rush, all the more prominent when Charles's thigh slides between his, caging him in–

The white-hot flash of pain comes so unexpected Arthur gasps, twisting his shoulder away from the pressure. Charles flinches, leans back, “Shit, sorry”, he pants out, mouth spit-slick and eyes wide.

Arthur can barely hear it over how loud his heart is, drumming away in his chest– “'m okay”, he says because Charles looks like he needs to hear it, but he doesn't let go, not yet.

“Come back. Please?”

Charles sways like he's drunk, nods – presses his forehead against Arthur's, noses brushing, but his tone is cautious, now. “We– This is not wise. You need time to heal.”

Arthur laughs, more than a little husky. “Do I look like I care about wise right now? Fuck, Charles.”

Charles's voice isn't faring much better; he hums a low “mmhm” before he kisses Arthur again, fleetingly. “Fuck me, indeed. I swear I had pure intentions with this.”

“You hate fishing. Dunno why you tried to convince me otherwise.”

“... I do, sorry.”

They share a smile, and Arthur shakes his head, tracing the curve of Charles's lips with his thumb.

“I don't mind. I prefer the alternative, too.”

>>Read on AO3

#red dead redemption #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #charthur #rdr fanfiction #fuckin......... finally #i'll probably write smut next lmao it's been a while #but these boys desperately need to 👏🏽 get 👏🏽 it 👏🏽#pls rb to feed your local fanfic writer!#my stuff #RDR

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cross-roads-blues · 6 years

Text

Deep Inside Your Mind / ch.5

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4]

Notes: Fifth chapter. Shit’s goin’ down.

Warnings: Angst?

Summary: While on a usual hunt, Dean Winchester is hit by something. While Dean recovers, he can’t remember neither Castiel, who’s been harboring feelings for Dean for over 5 years, nor Sam Winchester, his brother, who is 💔 by such turn of events. Can Cas and Sam reverse the damage, while battling their inner demons?

Chapter: 5/?

Word Count: 8183/?

Chapter Title: Come And Go

“Dude, you told him everything?” Sam nearly threw the phone at the wall.

“Yes,” said Castiel with a crack in his voice, “He had a memory of me saving him from Hell, and he asked me about it, and didn’t want to lie to him…”

Sam exhaled loudly. “How is he holding up?”

Castiel glanced through at small window in the door at Dean, who was sitting on the side of the bed, elbows resting on his knees and head down. “He- I think he’s going to be fine. I talked to the doctors. They say he can go home today.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “So quick?”

“I healed him up,” simply said Castiel, “I’ll bring him to motel.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll check out and be at the hospital in twenty.” Sam hanged up on Cas and ran his hand through his hair. This is a mess, he thought and collapsed on the bed. He sat there for a while, staring into nothingness. This is such a mess, he repeated again in his head and started packing his duffle.

“Dean?” Castiel unsurely entered the hospital room. “It’s time to go. Your brother is waiting outside.” Castiel glanced at the hunter and was glad to see that he had ditched painfully white hospital gown and was now sporting his usual black t-shirt, a red plaid flannel and a blue cargo jacket.

“Go where?” Dean’s bright green eyes pierced Castiel.

“Home. The bunker I told you about. Lebanon, Kansas. We’re going to get your memory back.” Castiel offered a small smile.

Dean turned away, facing the window. He clasped his hands over his head and sighed. “What if I don’t want my memory back?”

Castiel furrowed his brows. “I’m sorry, what?”

Dean turned around, facing Castiel again. He slowly walked up to him, his eyes almost filled with tears. “What if I don’t want to remember again? Man, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like my life was just a buttload of crap. You told me I’ve been burning in Hell! You told me I hunt frigging monsters for a living! You told me that some angel raised some frigging ghost witches from the dead to erase my memory! Castiel, to me that sounds like a life full of pain. Maybe this is universe giving me a second chance. Giving me a chance to live without that crap. And if you had that chance, wouldn’t you take it, Castiel?”

The angel flinched at the hunter using his full name. He hadn’t called him by his nickname since he lost his memory. And, boy, did it hurt. But not so much as seeing Dean right now, standing so painfully close to him, his eyebrows up, his eyes wet, every muscle in his face tensed up.

Castiel attempted to put a hand on the hunter’s shoulder “Dean… Come with me to the car, there is Sam, he can explain-”

“I don’t even know that man!” yelled Dean, stepping back. “Alright? I don’t know him, I don’t know you, hell, I don’t even know myself!”

“Dean, please come with me.” The angel stepped forward. “I know that you may be confused-”

“Confused?” snapped Dean. “Confused!? Dude, when I woke up I remembered squat about me, all I knew are some general facts. Like, sky is blue, grass is green and monsters do not exist! And I held on to those facts, because it’s kinda hard for me to build a picture of the world that I don’t remember. And then you come and you tell me I hunt monsters and I’ve been in hell and you yanked me out of it, because you are an angel! You could say I’m a little bit confused!” Dean finished his tirade screaming, his face flushed and breathing rapid and heavy.

Castiel’s face tensed up as the angel became more serious. With one swift flick of his hand the door to the room slammed shut. Dean eyes became a bit wider at this.

“Now listen to me, Dean Winchester. There is a reason that that memory came back to you. It came as a sign that you should keep on fighting! It was the memory of the time when you thought everything was lost, but then salvation came.” Castiel lifted his head and stared right into Dean’s olive eyes. “Now the Dean that I know? That Dean never gives up! That Dean always keeps on fighting! That Dean stopped the Apocalypse!”

The hunter didn’t say anything for a second. “Well…” The older Winchester slowly approached Castiel, standing uncomfortably close to him. “That sounds like weight that I don’t want back on my shoulders. So I am not that Dean.” Dean headed towards the door. He opened it and lingered in the doorway, then looked back at Castiel, just standing there in the middle of the room. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” The door slammed shut behind him.

“Where’s Dean?” asked Sam in a worried face as he rolled down the window from the driving seat of Impala, as he saw the angel hurrying towards him, his trenchcoat flying behind him in the wind.

“He left.” The angel gripped onto the roof of Impala.

“What?” Sam got out of the car, slamming the door. “Did you just say that he-”

“Left. He told me that he doesn’t want his memory back and a lot of other stuff.”

The younger Winchester glared at the angel. “And you let him go?”

“What was I supposed to do? Knock him out?” The angel spoke in the raised tone.

“That’s frigging fantastic.” Sam exhaled loudly and looked around than smashed his hands on the roof of Impala. “We’re not going to the bunker. There is an empty warehouse in 20 minutes from here, we’re going there and doing the summon. And then we force the son of the bitch to return Dean his memory, whether he wants it or no.”

“I’ll fly to the bunker, fetch the missing ingredients, meet you there.” Castiel narrowed his eyes and disappeared with a flap of the wings.

Sam sighed (he’s been doing a lot of it lately, but he couldn'thelp it) and got in the car. The weight on his shoulder became even heavier.

Twenty minutes later Sam rushed into the warehouse, just to find Cas having already assembled everything required for the ritual. An exquisite pentagram was drawn on the floor with candles put around it and a bowl with various herbs set in the front of it.

“You got everything ready?” Sam dumped his duffle on the floor near the door.

The angel nodded. “Pour some blood in there and one of them should appear.” He gestured towards the bowl. Sam marched towards the bowl and held out his hand, with an angel blade in his hand, ready to slice it.

“Sam, wait... Are you sure it’s the right decision?” Castiel glanced down.

Sam turned back to him, facing him with wide open eyes and open mouth. “What’s the right decision?”

“Giving Dean back his memory. I mean, he made it pretty clear to me that he doesn’t want it back,” said Cas, rubbing his temples.

Sam huffed in disbelief. “Well, I’m not sure if you noticed, but he isn’t exactly himself at the moment! He remembers squat, he doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to remember me!” shouted the angel.

The hunter didn’t say anything, but shook his head and sliced his hand, letting blood drip in the bowl. As soon as he did that, red smoke appeared in the middle of the pentagram. Castiel bared his angel blade and both of them stepped back, as the smoke disintegrated, leaving them to witness one of the most horrible creatures they had ever seen.

It was terrifying. To very little extent it resembled a human that it used to, but most of its features were completely unhumanlike. Wrinkled white skin on its face framed two black eyes with red pupils, long light grey unkempt hair were showing beneath the hood and dry cracked purplish blue lips were moving back and forth every second. All of its body was covered by a black torn robe with a hood, except its arms from elbow, which were exposed and red sigils on white slithery skin were visible. Sam saw a lot of shit in his life, but that thing certainly took a honorable place on his list of Shittiest Things To Exist. The thing growled at them and started incite something, but was cut short. It was like the words were stuck in its throat.

“It can’t cast a spell. It’s bound by the symbol,” explained Castiel, not taking the eyes of the creature.

The creature hissed something unintelligibly, exposing its sharp black teeth. “It appears angry that we bound it,” hurriedly commented Castiel.

“Oh, you think, Sherlock? Get in there and trace the angel, it might break away!” shouted Sam.

Just as Castiel started approaching the creature, a melodic female voice was heard behind them.

“Won’t be necessary. I’m not hiding.”

Both the hunter and the angel turned around to see the owner of the voice. A woman, clad in a white lacy dress, white fur shawl and white long boots was standing in the corner of the warehouse. She had raven black wavy hair and porcelain skin, with big blue eyes and puckered peach lips.

Castiel tilted his head and gazed at her. “You’re an angel. Izraniel.”

“Guilty as charged.” Izraniel smiled.

As she said that, the Skudakumooch gave out a menacing growl and stepped outside of the pentagram. Sam charged at it with the angel blade, but it dodged his attack and flung him at the wall, effectively knocking him out.

“Sam!” called out Castiel.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry,” said Izraniel. “Now, darling,” she said, addressing the ghost witch, “get us out of her, would you?”

When Sam woke up 5 minutes later, the warehouse was empty.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4]

#destiel #casdean #deancas #spn fic #supernatural fic #destiel fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #amnesia fic #spn fan fic #supernatural fan fic

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cynthesii · 6 years

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the road to hell is paved with petals (2/?)

series: boku no hero academia

word count: 2.1k

summary: It began as a spring day just as any other, except it wasn’t- not for you anyway. “Can I hug you?” a voice said behind you. Your head turned towards the sound on instinct, and suddenly your dulled world was filled with brilliant shades of grey and blue. At four years of age, you encountered your third major crisis: love. (a reader insert hanahaki au, in which todoroki really needs a hug)

links: part 1 | next (part 3 coming) | ao3 | quotev

part 2: a flower for the fool in love

At age fifteen, you should’ve been excited for your first Miai arrangement.

There were a lot of things you should’ve felt, but inside you felt... empty. There was no nervousness, no excitement, no anxiety— just an overwhelming sense of nothingness. The melancholy that haunted you all morning as you got ready for the meeting disappeared when you realized that this would be your first and last chance to find mutual love. To let go of your unrequited feelings. To forget about Shouto. To live.

But if you forgot about the one who gave you the motivation to live, could you ever really call yourself alive at all?

As you’re on your way to your assigned room in the Miai house, a fresh wave of melancholy washes over you, and you realize that tears are forming in your eyes once again. You quickly excuse yourself from your grandmother and father’s side and rush to find the nearest bathroom.

You’re relieved to find the bathroom stall empty when you step inside, and only when you’ve lock the door behind you do you allow the tears to fall. Your body leans back against the door for support, and you feel your legs slowly give out, causing you to slide to the floor.

Your sobs come in chokes, and you can’t tell exactly why you’re crying. Clutching the fabric above your chest, you desperately wished that you could feel something— anything would do.

Because nothing was just too much. The pain that should’ve been in your chest wasn’t there, and it haunted you like a phantom pain.

It was just...

Empty.

And you hated it.

After what feels like forever, your breathing returns to a rhythmic pace, and the flow of tears reduce themselves to an occasional trickle. Mind hazy, you realize that your grandmother and father are still waiting for you, and you quickly attempt to fix your appearance in the mirror. It’s a bit messier than what you had looked like before the crying spell, but it would do. At least with this, no one would suspect that you had been bawling your eyes out minutes prior.

Leaving your temporary safe haven behind, you slowly make your way back to your family and allow yourself a leisurely pace. It gives you some time to think about what’s happened, and what’s about to happen.

You were leaving Shouto behind.

All of a sudden, your hand flies to your mouth and you’re left helpless against a violent coughing fit that racks your entire body. A flurry of petals shoot from your mouth with every hack, each cough more vicious than the last. Your body doubles over instinctively, and nothing you do can stop the physical pain that’s growing in your chest.

With one final cough, you pull your hand away from your mouth, only to discover something new: amongst the petals lay a single, complete cherry blossom flower. A sense of dread washes over you and for the first time in a long while, you realize how grave your situation actually was.

Ah, crap. You were dying.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes linger on your form for a second longer before turning away to mind their own business once more. It was foolish, going to an Omiai house knowing full well that you had the Hanahaki disease.

But for you, being foolish was fine if it was proof that you were alive and in love.

Having had two emotional rollercoasters in the span of fifteen minutes, you allow yourself some more time before heading back to your assigned room. Once you’re ready, you’re grateful that the rest of the walk back is uneventful.

However, you can’t stop the pounding in your chest as you near the private room. Although you knew your life would change (for better or for worse) once you opened that door, you felt as though there was something larger at work. As if, your mind was telling you that things would never be the same, and that you would never be able to return to this way of life anymore.

Heart pounding in your ears, you stop in front of the door and place your hand on the door handle. Your palms are sweaty, and the nervousness you hadn’t felt earlier comes rushing at you in full force.

It’s now or never, you think to yourself. Bracing yourself for the worst, you pull the sliding door open.

“I apologize for the wait—”

And then, your breath hitches as your monochrome world begins to slow.

Everything moves in slow motion, and you’re hyper aware of your surroundings. The lights are blinding, there’s a dry, wooden scent in the air, and you can feel everyone’s gazes on you.

But none of that matters to you, because there, sitting across from your grandmother and father, sits a boy clad in a black turtleneck, black pants, and beige cardigan. Time moves at snail’s pace as you meet his gaze.

And once you do, your world bursts in a myriad of colors. Emotions you haven’t felt in a long time attack you in a flurry, and you’re left feeling overwhelmed at the sight before you.

Staring back at you are a pair of heterochromatic eyes, and they’re beautiful. They captivate you, sending a chill down your spine with their intensity of emotions. You’re vaguely aware that you’re still standing in the doorway with everyone’s eyes on you, but none of that matters to you.

Because all you can see are brilliant shades of grey and blue, two colors you had grown to love when you were four.

“Shouto?”

After you’ve taken your seat in between your father and grandmother and exchanged greetings with Shouto and Endeavor, the next ten minutes pass by in a blur.

You’re only vaguely aware of the pleasantries that are passed around as well, not that you really cared for those anyway.

“... Shouto’s quirk seems very powerful...”

“... will be attending UA in the upcoming school year...”

“... would make a nice pair...”

Lost in your own thoughts, you can’t help but think that it must be some cruel twist of fate, or perhaps grace by destiny, that your Miai partner was the one person you had been longing for this entire time. You try to keep a stoic face throughout the meeting, but you know you’re failing horribly with that stupid smile that’s plastered on your face.

And for once in your life, you were grateful that you were born into a distinguished family. Given a man like Endeavor, he would have made sure to pull some strings behind the scenes in order to ensure that his son’s first meeting partner wasn’t someone of low standards. Your father was the same.

But you could care less about the hows and whys of the situation. All that mattered was that here, in front of you, sat Shouto in his full glory. His eyes are as stoic as ever, but there’s a fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time you saw him.

And boy,

Has he matured.

Compared to when you had accidentally bumped into him several years prior, the boy had grown up well enough to nicely fill out the turtleneck and cardigan he was wearing. He was certainly a sight for sore eyes.

Your cheeks flush at the thought, and you can feel your heart pounding erratically in your chest. Shouto really would be the death of you, one way or another.

“Dear, do you feel alright?” Your grandmother’s voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife, and suddenly you’re brought back to the present. Your cheeks flush once more, but this time out of embarrassment of being caught red-handed. All eyes are on you again, and at varying levels of concern for your health.

Before you can respond that you’re fine, your father interjects. “Some fresh air would do you good. There’s a garden here that you can walk in,” he says.

And before you can insist on your good health, Endeavor quickly agrees to the idea as well. “Shouto, go with them.”

That’s how you end up with Shouto, alone, wandering aimlessly amongst the garden together.

You’re paced a few steps behind him, allowing him some space as the two of you wracked your brain for something to talk about. As for you though, you were comfortable in the silence. So you let your thoughts wander to where they had left off, thinking about how absolutely divine Shouto looked now.

He was taller now, having replaced his baby fat with some obvious muscle. He carried himself with a sense of authority and purpose as well; it reminded you an awful lot of his innocent confidence when you were younger. And even from behind, you could tell that his eyes were as vibrant as ever.

But somehow... beneath the bravado and the confidence, you couldn’t help but think that there was an air of loneliness as well.

You feel your arms twitch at your sides, itching to reel him in to a loving hug. But you don’t. You mentally remind yourself that things are different now, and that the pleasures you indulged in when you were younger did not apply to your situation now.

Shouto wouldn’t accept your hugs as he was now.

Eventually, the two of you reach the gazebo at the center of the garden, and you take your places at opposite ends of the structure. And for the first time since setting foot in the garden, Shouto turns to face you, eyes gazing into yours intensely, intent to discover the truth within you.

“Have we met before?”

Your breath hitches. Of all the things you had expected him to ask, that was not one of them. You can feel your heart stop as your hopes begin to rise. Maybe he remembers. Maybe, he just hadn’t recognized you before. Maybe—

“You said my name when you entered the room.”

And then, you can hear the sound of your hopes shattering once more. You feel the stubborn smile you’ve had on begin to fall, and the urge to cough swells up inside your throat.

Shouto doesn’t remember, of course he doesn’t remember you.

The pain in your chest grows, and you have to forcefully shove the lump in your throat back down.

“Why?” you ask. “Do I look familiar to you?”

The deadpan look in his eyes tell you all you need to know, but he speaks anway. “No, you don’t.”

Suddenly, you remember your childhood days with Shouto at daycare, and the pang inside your chest increases tenfold. How could he just forget like that?

It hurt.

Shouto stares, contemplating his next words. The silence is stifling, and you can feel yourself suffocating from the sorrow within your heart. So you force the words inside your heart out with a choke, completely disregarding the ache in your chest.

“Maybe we have— maybe we haven’t. But that’s not what you want to ask, is it?”

He nods, and you can already guess what he wants to say. So you turn around to admire the flowers that surround the two of you instead.

Lilacs and cherry blossoms, you duly note. They’re in full bloom all around, filling the air with a pleasant scent. It’s too bad you can’t find the heart within you to appreciate them.

“I have Hanahaki,” you simply state. Even though you don’t hear a response, you know he’s listening intently and waiting for you to continue. So you do.

“You probably don’t like the idea that I’m your partner, huh.” The words drip from your mouth like honey, and you wonder where you found the strength to speak to him like that. “Given the fact that i might be dead in the next half or year or so, it seems like a waste of time.”

“But,” you turn to him, staring him down with a newfound resolve in your eyes, “I promise it won’t be.”

“Why?” he asks.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts and feelings, trying to convey the multitude of emotions that are swirling in your chest. “Because I say this with all my heart:

“Todoroki Shouto, will you be my friend?”

“And,” you pause, trying to give form the feelings you’ve kept locked up for the past ten years, “one more thing—”

Few words were exchanged in the garden that day. If anything, you were sure you had left Shouto with more questions than when he had began with. But with the Miai meeting over with, and your partnership with Shouto practically solidified thanks to your respective parents, you knew that you would have to answer his questions in time.

There was one thing you knew for sure though: all hope was not lost.

Even though in the end, you had never gotten a reply from Shouto, you had said all that had needed to be said.

“Todoroki Shouto, will you be my friend?

“And, one more thing—”

I love you.

“Thank you.”

pt 2, alternative title: ways to say i love you

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #reader insert #hanahaki disease #hanahaki au #angst #fanfic #endeavor #todoroki enji #the road to hell is paved with petals

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singlebecauseofthechocobros · 6 years

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Eyes Wide Open Chapter 5

Alright here’s part 5. Honestly i thought I knew where this fict was going but i dont and really need to plan it out again. So this may be the only update for a few weeks while i get my crap together lol. But i hope you all enjoy!

“Sweetie we have to go,” your father spoke, bursting into your room without a warning, “Grab what only the essentials and be ready in fifteen.”

Hopping off your bed you felt your heart beating quickly at the sudden panic overtaking you, “Dad what’s wrong,” you questioned, watching him dig through your closet for a suitcase.

“I don’t have time to explain,” he yelled, “Just pack up.”

Just as you ran towards your dressed you heard a loud bang from the front of your home. Your dad’s head swiveled towards the sound as heavy footsteps quickly approached. Turning to you he looked at you with tears in his eyes, “I’m so sorry daring.”

Before you could reply your bedroom door was busted down, glaives running in and storming your room. Pointing their guns at the two of you, they screamed for you to get down, which you shakenly did.

“Commander Y/L/N,” one of the glaives spoke, “For treason against the kingdom of Lucis and crimes against his own, you are under arrest pending trial.”

Cuffing your father, he was pulled from the ground.

“As for you,” the officer began, turning his attention to you, “For being affiliated with this criminal, you are to be taken in for questioning. There we will decide whether to hang you as well.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” your father cried out, attempting to shake off the guards holding him steady, “Just let her go.”

Your blood had drained from your face as tears began to well up in your eyes. What did he mean by ‘hanging’? What in the world was going on?

“Go ahead and cuff her, and follow behind,” the man in charge spoke, “We have what we need to dispose of this Nif scum.”

***

Weeks had gone by since the announcement of the fall and you weren’t sure how everyone was doing, especially Noctis. Gladio and Ignis appeared to be very composed, obviously distraught at first but not lacking focus from what needed to be done. Prompto kept an upbeat persona, trying to cheer up the group but you could still see the upset in his gaze.

And as for Noctis?

He would gaze out the window of the Regalia, but there was no expression in his stare. No surprise, no worry, no anything. It was as if all his emotions had been shut off and replaced with a mask of nothingness. He would sigh now and then causing everyone in the party to look at him with concern, to which he paid no mind to.

However, although he seemed nonchalant day to day, when it came to his training with you, he kept nothing back. It was as though everything that had become built up within him he just released: the rage, the pain, and the sorrow. It was the only time since the news of Insomnia where he bared any emotion at all.

You could see how distraught he was in battle but when his sword disappeared, it was as if his feelings did to.

For as much as you had initially disliked the prince, you couldn’t help your heart feel for him. You knew better than anyone how tragic it was to have your world come crashing down so suddenly and you could only imagine the weight that was being put upon his shoulders.

It almost made you feel bad for being so harsh to him at first.

Since becoming part of the group, you had warmed up to each of them, however being much more standoffish towards his highness. Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto were all easy to chat with and although you all had only spent a short time together, they seemed to trust you enough. Noct did too, but he could tell there was still a bit of resentment for him within you.

Your behavior seemed so childish now. The past was the past and you knew deep down it was not his fault. You could not blame him for the mistake he made when you were both children. Other, more important things were happening and if you didn’t let go, it would eventually eat you up.

So one day after locating another coat of arms and fighting daemons the group decided to set up camp as one of the havens along the road. You walked over and took a place next to Noctis by the fire, a little further away from the other guys, who were lost in conversations of their own.

“Hey,” you said as you placed yourself next to him.

“Hey,” he replied keeping his eyes on the fire.

“You okay?”

Wow, dumb question, you thought to yourself.

“Oh you know,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking towards the flames too.

The both of you sat there for a minute, not sure how to proceed until you eventually just spoke, “I just wanted to say you’re doing well in your training.”

Turning to you he raised his brow which was barely visible under his shaggy hair which hung in his face, “Thanks?”

“A-and to also apologize,” you mumbled.

“For what?”

You looked at him, your face contorting into confusion, “What do you mean ‘for what’? For treating you so horribly. Ever since we met on the beach I’ve been nothing but hateful towards you while you have been nothing but kind to me.”

“I knew you were probably still angry, as would I be,” he shrugged.

“Well it wasn’t your fault,” you blurted out.

“Y/N, if I had kept my mouth shut your dad would still be here.”

“I don’t think so,” you replied, a tone of sadness in your voice, “He was bound to be caught eventually. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what you should have done the moment you found out and honestly I don’t blame you, not anymore.”

At you words the corner of his lips seemed to turn upwards. It was small but it was enough to know he was relieved.

“Well thank you ,” he grinned, “I’m sorry too.”

“You don’t need to be but it’s accepted,” you smiled back.

You could see his shoulders slouch a bit, allowing his body to relax, “I don’t even know what to do,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I just,” he sighed, “What happens when I collect the arms? And if we manage to make it to Altissa and I marry Luna what then? That doesn’t bring Insomnia back and the world to normal again.”

“It may not right away but it’s a start.”

“Ya think,” he questioned turning to you.

“Yeah,” you answer, “I think everything will work out. It always does. It just may not be the way we all want it to.”

“Your optimism is almost nauseating,” he chuckled, making you smile a bit yourself.

“It may be, but it’s all I got,” you said honestly, “If I assume the worst then I might as well give up now.”

“That’s fair. I just want it all to go away.”

“Me too,” you speak giving him a sympathetic look and placing your hand over his, which was resting on his knee.

Giving his hand a squeeze you gave him a soft smile before standing up and beginning to head over to the other guys. Your movements were halted when Noct grabbed for your hand and caused you to turn back to him.

“Will you sit here with me for a bit longer?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Sure.”

Taking your place back on the bench you sat with him watching the fire in comfortable silence, both secretly thankful for the company.

#eyes wide open #noctis x reader #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #my work #final fantasy sfw #ffxv #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv #final fantasy

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tk-duveraun · 7 years

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Sweet Dreams 7/?

Title: Sweet Dreams Setting: Modern Thedas Rating: PG-13 For Strong Language Genre: Friendship & Adventure, minor Romance elements Pairings: (All relatively background) Ela/Cullen, Doribull Summary: For @elalavella. Ela’s been having vivid nightmares that are starting to feel far too real when the companions she has in the nightmares appear in her real life. She thought it was supposed to be the other way around! Previous Parts: One Two Three Four Five Six Warnings: Mild violence and gore

The greatsword was heavy in Ela’s hands, but her arms didn’t hurt from carrying it. At least, not that she noticed. She kept her attention split equally between Cole and the eerie landscape they crept slowly across. The ground was scarred and torn from her assault as the Inquisitor. They hadn’t been able to defeat the Nightmare at the peak of their power and with the Mark on her hand. She couldn’t imagine them beating it now. “Green. Blinding, choking, shaking, tearing. You were weighed down by a lot, then,” Cole said. He tilted his head back, again showing off the unnatural eyes of blue fire. “Your body isn’t here this time. Only the important parts.” “I think what Cole is trying to say is that we have the same combat abilities we had before but we aren’t weighed down by our physical forms,” Dorian said. The mage strutted forward without fear. The end of his staff was lit with a soft purple glow and wisps of magic floated in the air around his head. “I’m glad someone understands this demon crap,” The Iron Bull muttered. He walked just behind Ela and in her peripheral vision, she could see his horns move as he turned his head to scout the area. “At least you have two eyes this time,” Ela said. “Do I want to know?” The Iron Bull asked. “No you bloody well don’t. You just want to wake up.” Sera pulled back the string of her bow, aiming around The Iron Bull’s shoulders at shadows. “Sera, Sera, Sera… If you shoot me, I’ll know where you are,” the Nightmare demon said. Its voice echoed against the black rock as well as the empty air and the inside of their heads. Ela fought back a shiver as the voice pierced her chest. She shifted the weight of her sword to her left hand and worried in the back of her mind that her arms were going to start aching. “You’re not real. You don’t have muscles to ache.” “So, Cole, are you going to help us fight this Nightmare or are you just moral support?” Dorian asked. Daggers appeared in Cole’s hands and then disappeared in the next second. That was his only response. “I don’t like this, Boss. I can’t hear anything. Not even our footsteps.” Ela froze mid-step. Once The Iron Bull mentioned it, it was impossible to forget. Her clothes made no sound as they rustled with movement. She swayed her arms and twisted in place, but still nothing, even when she scraped her sandals on the ground. “Thanks for making it a hundred times worse, Bull! Love you, too!” “Already shitballs with the demons, Elalaland,” Sera said. “Something’s coming. I can feel it,” Dorian said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he preened and fanned himself. “Look at that, I noticed something before you did, Bull.” The Iron Bull hefted his greataxe and turned in the direction Dorian pointed. As soon as he did, the seemingly-solid rockwall exploded in a wet spray of ichor and poison. Spiders spilled out of the opening, crawling over each other. The clicking from their mandible was nearly loud enough to drown out the pounding of Ela’s heart in her ears. She swallowed, took a deep breath and charged forward with her sword raised. She was terrified of spiders. She had to call in reinforcements for the tiniest, most benign harvestman, but in the Fade, with the memories of the Inquisition and how much was on the line, her fear of spiders meant little. She remembered fighting dragons and drinking a distillation of their blood. Spiders meant nothing. Little chittering, skittering, biting things with furry legs and slimy carapaces should know that she has a world to save and no time to be afraid of their black blood and too many eyes. Ela slashed the legs out from under one and sensed The Iron Bull at her right hand, doing the same. Arrows flew through the air and pierced clustered eyes with sprays of wet gore and unsettlingly hollow thunks. The air pressure shifted with low whooshes and jarring screams as Dorian launched fireballs and bolts of lightning from his created staff. “Haha! I could do this all day! Why did we ever solidify the Veil, anyway?” Dorian asked. “Might be the demons,” The Iron Bull said between heavy swings of his axe, “or the possession or the abominations…” When the spiders were dead, Dorian lit their corpses on fire. Thankfully, instead of the horrific, rancid stench of burning hair and chitin, the spiders flared almost instantly into odorless ash that dissolved into the vast nothingness of the Fade. Ela leaned her sword against a rock just so she could rub warm into her bare arms, chilled as she was by the sight. However, she didn’t leave the sword for long, picking it up back up in less than a minute. For his part, Dorian was pouting at The Iron Bull. “Well when you put it that way, weakening the Veil sounds like a terrible idea. You don’t have to ruin it. I wasn’t exactly planning to build a vacation home here.” Dorian’s tone was petulant on the surface, but thanks to Ela’s refreshed memories of his past self, she heard the undercurrent of fear and desperation behind his attempts at levity. A few miniscule spiderlings scratched and bit at Ela’s feet, but either their attacks were too weak or her feet were thick with the Dalish calluses her past-self had, because they didn’t break the skin and Ela had much bigger problems than them. Literally. She couldn’t see the Nightmare demon, but she could feel it and she remembered how large it was. Remembered Hawke insisting that she let him stay behind to fight the demon alone. She hadn’t wanted to leave anyone behind. No one deserved to die alone in the Fade. The only reason she hadn’t dragged Stroud kicking and screaming through the Rift behind her was because she knew he didn’t have much time left anyway, being a Warden. And death by Nightmare was probably better than possessed by Corypheus. At least, that’s what she had told herself while crying into Cullen’s shoulder during some of the many sleepless nights in Skyhold. Oh but she hoped the Golden Lion contact really was Cullen. He was a different person, yes, but The Iron Bull and Dorian had found each other and things seemed to be going well. “Yes, Ada’alvhen. Things always seem to go well for you, don’t they? And then they come across deep water.”

#sweet dreams fic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age au #elashorei lavellan

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 7 years

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Broken Happy Ever Afters - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne Summary: It wasn’t something any of them wanted, it turned out. But it was too late to change anything now. After all, ignorance is bliss. Up until it’s not. A/N: This is trashier than my normal trash, sigh. Based on/inspired by ‘What About Us’ by P!nk. Gave me a lot of feels about them ending their partnership way back in preboot, waah.

He should of known. Though, if he was being honest with himself: he did. Of course he knew. Knew from the second Bruce came back.

He just ignored it.

Let the thought be hidden by the fact that Bruce was back. Bruce was alive, and it was everything he and the whole family had ever wanted.

So he focused on everything else. Distracted himself with family reuniting, with recreating his old Nightwing uniform, with finding a new apartment.

And that left them here.

They were in the cave. Dick was finished with those last few Batman cases, and about to step off to restart his life, moving into his new place in the morning. Bruce was going out on patrol. They’d just caught each other, were chatting about the last minute changes and new beginnings. The conversation was light, and almost carefree. Almost like the good old days, when it was just the two of them.

But it was way more than just the two of them now.

Damian was sitting at the computer, slouched poutily in the chair. In his Robin uniform of course, despite already being told he wasn’t going out tonight, that Bruce was going on patrol alone. Just sat there silently, staring. Oddly quiet, Dick knew, and that was mildly concerning but he wasn’t going to let on. Wasn’t going to let Bruce know that little secret. Knew Damian would hate him if he did.

(And he was already losing Damian as his partner. Damian was already being ripped from his side, at Bruce’s request – and of course, how could he say no? He’d give Bruce the world right now, if his father asked, that’s how thrilled he was that he was back. But still – it was change enough, Damian being given to someone else, like it was a custody agreement. He couldn’t let their relationship change anymore than it already was.

His heart ached suddenly, but – no. Not now. Just ignore it. It’s nothing. He was going back to Nightwing, and Damian was going to Bruce, where he belonged. It was a happy ending for all of them. They were all going to get what they wanted. The end.)

“Just a few more days,” Bruce hummed to Damian with a smile, after the youngest snorted when Bruce mentioned he was staying in. He kept his eyes on Dick, though. “Hopefully you’ll all be settled by then, Dick, and we’ll see Nightwing out there too.”

“Oh, yeah, maybe.” Dick laughed. “You’ll probably see me even if I’m not settled. You know I hate this moving crap.” He glanced over at Damian, who was still just…staring into nothingness, head turned towards the wide expanse of the cave. “And what about you, Damian? You excited to finally work with your dad?”

Damian glanced up at him as he spoke, and blinked when Dick finished his question. Looked down again for just a second, before returning his gaze.

“And what about us?”

Dick felt his grin slip. His mind flashing the alarms instantly. His heart suddenly aching even worse.

Because he knew. He knew, he knew, he knew, and he just ignored it.

“…What?”

“What about us?” Damian repeated, sitting up. “What about everything you told me?”

Dick tilted his head, feeling guilt already swirling in his gut. “I don’t…”

“You said we were partners. You said we’d always have each other’s backs.” Damian accused. “You said you trusted me. You said it was a good thing I chose you over my mother, and my upbringing.”

Dick turned towards him, could already feel Bruce emotionally retreating behind him. Letting him handle this. Letting him handle his son. Just watching, observing like they were a case.

“Damian…”

“You said Batman and Robin never die. You asked where you’d be without me! You said…” Damian stood now, body tense. Dick couldn’t tell if he looked more like he was about to attack or run away. Realized it didn’t matter at Damian’s next declaration. “You said you loved me!”

His words echoed through the cave, and even Bruce’s interest was piqued at this. There was a moment of silence. A few moments of silence. Panic and pain and embarrassment and nerves washing over Damian’s face.

“So…so what about us?” Damian whispered, sounding childish for the first goddamn time since Dick met him. “What happens to us, in all this? To you and me?”

Bruce moved forward. Tried, for the first time, with the child he never knew existed before long ago. Tried, for the first time, period. “Son…”

“You didn’t ask. No one talked to me.” Damian was beginning to ramble. He looked away, down at his hands, at his feet, at the computer behind him. Looking to run, to disappear and hide, maybe forever now. Mentally chastising himself, Dick knew, for showing such ‘weakness.’ For not listening to the plan and following whatever commands he was given, like he was taught. By Talia, by Dick, by Bruce – by everyone. “It’s just…it’s just happening, and no one said anything to me. I…I wasn’t given time to prepare. W-wasn’t trained for…”

“Damian.” Dick tried again, stepping towards him. Damian stumbled backwards, tripped against the chair. Eyes wide and wild and wet now. A cornered animal. “Damian, stop.”

And like he’d just thought – Damian was trained to listen to orders. He took this as one, and listened. Froze, and kept his gaze submissively downwards, even as Dick kneeled in front of him.

“I…I know I wasn’t good enough. I’m sorry.” Damian whispered. And god – where was all this before? Why hadn’t he ever seen it, the real child Damian was under all the bravado? But maybe he did, maybe it was just like before – he just ignored it. “But…if you tell me, I’ll train harder. Work to fix it-”

“Damian, it’s okay.” Dick tried with a smile, reaching up to first put a hand on Damian’s face, then down a little to hold his shoulder. “Can you look at me please?”

Damian hesitated, but eventually did. Glanced up at Dick with big, sad, puppy dog eyes.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you, if that’s what you think. None of this is happening because you aren’t good enough.” He laughed a little. “Quite the opposite actually. You’re great. Amazing, really. One of the best partners I’ve ever had. But I know you’ve always wanted to work with your dad. I know it’s been your dream for years, and who am I to stand in the way of you actually getting it? You deserve this, you deserve to finally have this opportunity. And if I can have a small part in letting you have it then, dammit, I’m going to do it.”

Damian sniffed.

“I’m…sorry, I didn’t talk to you. That none of us did.” Dick admitted. “And you’re right, we totally should have. We just sprung this on you and never even asked you what you were feeling. Never gave you the opportunity to share it, and that’s not fair, especially after I preached so much about the importance of family and communication.”

Damian blinked, and then glanced behind him, towards Bruce. Suddenly all of the emotions on his face gave way to blatant fear. “…What if it doesn’t work?” Back to Dick, whispering like Bruce couldn’t hear every word he said anyway. “What if he hates me? Because you and Drake did at first, so-”

“He never could.” Dick promised with a grin. “And trust me, he’s a lot smarter than me and Tim combined. But…if it doesn’t work, then I’ll come back. I’ll pick you up and beat up your dad and take over Batman again, just for you.”

And even in his state, Damian couldn’t hold in his snort. “You could never beat up my father.”

“I know.” Dick winked. “But for you, I’d totally try.”

Damian flashed a sad smile, but it immediately settled back into a frown. “Grayson,” He still whispered. “What about us?”

“We’ll still be the best, you and me. Losing…” Suddenly his throat went tight, emotions swelling and lodging themselves there. That ache in his heart felt like a knife through his soul. “Losing you as a partner won’t change that. You’ll still be my little brother.” He smiled, but it was pained and nostalgic and he knew Damian could see right through him. “You’ll still be one of my best friends, and most favorite people.”

Damian blushed a little at that, and dropped his gaze. Dick laughed, and pulled Damian into an embrace he didn’t fight, for once in his young life.

Dick could feel Bruce’s eyes on them, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t Bruce’s moment right now. It was his. His and his little brother’s. His and Damian’s.

“I love you, kiddo.” Dick whispered into his ear. “And I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far. You deserve this.”

And again: “What if he hates me?”

“Then he’s an idiot.” Dick promised. “But trust me, okay? He’s crap at showing it, but he loves you more than anything in the world. That’s why he wants to work with you too.” A squeeze of Damian’s shoulders. “He asked me if he could work with you. Frankly, I think he was jealous.”

Damian didn’t respond to the statement. Just collapsed some of his weight against Dick’s chest, turning his face into his neck. “Where are you moving to again?”

“Not far. More downtown. Not back to the penthouse. Don’t think I could live there without you and Alfie.” Dick hummed, gently rubbing Damian’s spine. He didn’t let his hand trail down to where Talia’s implants still were, deactivated now. Didn’t like thinking about that time. The mistakes he made. How he almost lost Damian, in more ways than one. “I’ll still be here all the time. Alfie said he’s going to keep my room up. It’ll be like I never left anyway.”

“Hm.” Damian sounded. He stayed in Dick’s arms a second more, then pulled back. Still kept his eyes away, even as Dick stared up at him.

“Why don’t you head on upstairs? Bruce may be going on patrol tonight, but I don’t have to.” Dick decided. “It’s my last real night in the manor – how about you go pull the ingredients for milkshakes and get the popcorn started, and we have one last movie night, just you and me, like we did last year on Fourth of July?”

Damian nodded silently, and without another word, turned and practically ran towards the stairs. Passed his father without looking at him either, and disappeared into the giant mansion.

Dick remained crouched on the floor for just a few more seconds, listening to the patter of Damian’s feet, felt Bruce’s eyes on him still. Then turned to look at him over his shoulder.

“He’s a special kid.” He stated coolly. “A great kid.”

“I know.” Bruce returned, as Dick stood and came back towards him. He stopped next to Bruce, and looked up the stairs.

“…So you better take care of him.” Dick whispered. Bruce looked at him. “You know I don’t ask for much, Bruce, but I meant what I said to him. I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.”

“I will.” Bruce promised with a serious nod.

“Please.” Dick pushed. “I’ll beg you if I have to Bruce, but. Please.” Dick sighed, and it sounded shaky. Sad and lost as he closed his eyes for a few moments. “Please love him as much as I do. Please protect him and take care of him and just. Give him the world, more than you ever tried for the rest of us.”

“I’ll do my best.” Bruce reiterated.

“Do better than your best.” Dick countered with a disappointment clearly aimed at himself as he stepped off in Damian’s wake. “Because he’s earned more than that.”

And Dick could feel Bruce’s own remorse as he started up the stairs. As he heard Bruce start to move towards his cars. And – maybe they were rushing this. Maybe they shouldn’t do this. Maybe Dick should turn around and say he’s not giving his Robin up, that they can revisit this in a few months, in a year. Maybe they should just straight up ask Damian what he wanted, and go with that.

And it was a whisper, but Dick still heard it when Bruce sighed.

“Indeed he has.”

#dick grayson #Damian Wayne #bruce wayne

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