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datingdonovan · 2 years

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hq boys falling for a manic pixie dream person

in which you are the manic pixie dream.

inspo: I was listening to Portland by Bowling Shoes while cleaning

a/n: so this is the manic pixie dream person as in like, 500 Days of Summer and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. aka like, kinda sad story, emotionally unstable, and not that romanticized. leaves a lot. lol. I'd elaborate on my thoughts about mpdp tropes but this intro is already long so uhh send me an ask if you want to hear bc I could truly go on lol.

length: ~2k

warnings: yeah i wont lie this went to way darker places than i wanted it to and it became a lot about the manic pixie dream trope and relationships in general as a performance hahahhaa soooo this has real life angst along with the fluff. some scenarios work out and some don’t. sorry to be too honest. im literally becoming the ceo of emotionally damaged reader i dont know what else people expect. anyways off to the races.

shockingly matches your energy. I mean this man is down to do anything, anywhere, anytime. you say the word and he’s there. starts asking to pick YOU up for random trips in the middle of the night and signing YOU up for couples kickboxing classes, and you bite your lip every time he calls you at 2:55am, not believing you found someone who can keep up with you but simultaneously scared you might be falling a little too hard. one night, he drops you off at your door, and you know the tables have turned too far. all of a sudden, he’s holding your hands and asking you to move in with him and your heart is in your throat knowing you just can’t. this is fun, but that’s closer than you ever really want to be.

➽➽➽hinata, atsumu, bokuto, lev, goshiki, noya, tanaka

same energy match as the above but bonus points because he’s so aware of what you’re doing. he does it to the people he chases, too, probably more than he’d like to admit, and with the two of you together, it’s gonna be mind games to the finish to see who falls in love first. real twin flame type of deal because you both sort of know you’ve met your match, and maybe if even one of you could just let down your walls, you’d find that it’s really something special to be together with someone else who is as smart, wacky, interesting, bold, and shockingly blunt as you. this one’s open ended. are you gonna take that chance or not? and even if you do, is he gonna be open enough to reciprocate? or will he just shut you down like he does everyone else?

➽➽➽TERUSHIMA!!!! I WILL SCREAM IT FROM THE TOP OF MY LUNGS TERUSHIMA!!!! (i’m sorry but who else is thinking about @applepiekyuu’s fics??? I can’t help but believe he would do this bc of the way gwen writes him!!! she writes my fave terushima ever), also feel like this could be tendou, with walls up and a sort of snarky calculated way that he goes about relationships

finds it really refreshing to be with someone who’s flippant with him, who doesn’t see him as some bigshot like all of his fans. it’s not as much about your antics. the relationship is more marked by the fact that you could care less about how what you do affects him, and somewhere in the back of his head is a little voice telling him that’s not a good sign, but it’s drawing him in like nobody else has in so long. it’s like falling in slow motion. he can see every red flag and every time you hold your real self back from him and he just ignores each one, knowing exactly where this is heading. Im thinking on the way down except you don’t catch him and he does fall right thru. wow this is actually maybe the saddest one because he sees the whole thing happening and just has this stupid hope that maybe it’s not gonna end that way, maybe he can change you, maybe he can really get you to you like him enough to make you stay.

➽➽➽OIKAWA. I know he’s the only one but im just getting EXTREMELy strong vibes thats all

isn’t phased by you. for whatever reason this man is a stone cold chiller. he’s really relaxed and down to earth and honestly finds your little act kind of weird and intriguing, but in a mostly disinterested way. sure he’s into you but he’s not swept up in the manic pixie hype. Im getting vibes of him just sitting on the couch doing something else while youre actively trying to show off for him or seduce him or whatever and he’s just. i guess it’s not that he’s not impressed but it’s that he’s not really interested in your trying to impress him. he’s like… what are you doing you weirdo. just come sit with me. you’re probably totally weirded out by this bc it’s sort of the opposite of above—rather than you not being starstruck by him, he’s not starstruck by you, which is something you really don’t experience a lot and have trouble figuring out how to handle. and i think how this ends really is in how you handle it. are you gonna exit stage left the second you realize he’s not swept up in your allure or are you gonna end up chilling right there next to him and finally letting your guard down? news flash i think this man could literally change your life if you allowed him to chill you out and give you a no judgement space to be your real self

➽➽➽MATTSUN, makki, semi, aran, fukunaga, iwaizumi. maybe Osamu??

tries really hard to pretend he’s not into it, but you’re pushing all the right buttons and he’s like, the perfect candidate for this type of thing. kinda sulky or uninterested or tsundere or sadboi whatever he is or whatever you want to call him he is SO into it. I feel like ive truly read countless fics about these guys doing exactly this already like the classic picking up your phone call in the middle of the night and really trying to be angry but just feeling so excited to hear your voice no matter what stupid thing you’re asking him to do. over the course of you nagging him and teasing him and forcing him out of his comfort zone, he goes from glares to smirks to soft smiles to actually enjoying the out of pocket adventures you take him on. but i think for you this is about you intriguing him, you going out of your way for him, you wanting to unlock him, and he’s just basking in that glow, always the one being let out of his shell without much give and take between you. when you leave, it’s abrupt, and it’s because you’ve had your fun transforming him, but he’s still no match for your chaos, and you need to find someone who can bring that energy to the relationship, who can entertain you sometimes, instead of it always being the other way around. and honestly, in the aftermath, i dont think you helped him as much as you thought you did, because maybe all he learned from this experience was not to let anybody in like that again.

➽➽➽TSUKISHIMA, yahaba (ok i know he seems out of left field but i can see him being like cocky and unamused and just… breaking down into a simp omg), SUNA, kenma, kyoutani omg, kunimi, sakusa, maaaaaybe kageyama if you could somehow get him interested in the first place hahahaha

falling way too hard. these are the ones you really probably wouldn’t expect to enjoy the manic pixie thing but oh man i am gonna speak from personal experience on this one guys like this they just let their guard down waaaaaay too much. they’re really fairly stoic and sort of intense decision makers in everyday life, but when they’re alone with you, that all just goes straight out the window. you’re such bad news but they just dont see it coming at all. they’re so distracted and SO enamored with every wild idea you suggest, and they’re sort of also scared out of their minds, but they’re on top of the world like they never have been before when they’re with you, and maybe most of all they just don’t want to lose you. of course, they inevitably get to the point of wanting to settle down with you. how could they not? you seem like the perfect person! but when that hint of commitment starts rearing its head you just become a totally different person. like omg have you seen Gone Girl??? where the whole thing is sort of the guys being like, where did that sweet sexy person go? I thought you would always be like that??? and the love interest is like… um… the act is part of the fun of it all. but eventually it ends. this was truly something but im not in it for the long haul. sayonara suckers

➽➽➽DAICHI, YAKU, weirdly getting daishou vibes here hahaha, hoshiumi and kindaichi maybe too?? SHIRABU. UKAI JR. ushijima, aone

ok i personally love this one. he’ll admit it. whatever you’re doing is very sexy, and he’s endlessly intrigued by you, but he’s no dummy. he knows you can’t really be like this all the time and he so badly wants to figure you out. this one really verges on sort of a protector role, like he can see the way you’re bending over backwards to be this exciting person and he doesn’t understand why. studies you when you’re not watching, trying to get a sense of what you’re actually like. and the worst part is that he really likes what he sees. you’re attractive, and fun, and you carry yourself with a real confidence and self-assurance when you’re not so concerned about how you’re being perceived. he wants to show you that you can be you around him, and he’d like that person just as much if not more than the persona you put on when you know he’s watching. and it’s so hard because he has to be so careful about it. he kind of agonizes over it. he wants to know you for real, and love you for real, and understand what makes you act this way, and handle all the baggage that comes with it. together. but if he oversteps or changes his demeanor for even a second, he knows you’ll pick up on it and disappear. please don’t disappear. please let him be there. I swear those moments with him would change you.

➽➽➽SUGA, ennoshita, kuroo, kita, AKAASHI, HIRUGAMI, im also putting yamaguchi ikejiri and asahi in this group with the caveat that they’d have to be emotionally mature and have the bandwidth for it bc honestly i think they have enough emotional issues of their own lol. finally this is out of left field but koganegawa. he gives me very strong vibes of someone who would want his partner to be totally at ease and themself, and i think he would be in the hyper excited category until he suddenly one day realizes how one-sided the relationship is and he’s like wait… the vibes are off... and investigates...

#the stuff of cece #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #manic pixie dream girl #manic pixie dream boy #hopefully this was a good mix lol originally I had a group of boys who wouldn't go for it at all but I thought that was a bit rude hahahaha #everyone has to have their fave in there a little for a treat ::):):)):#haikyuu hcs #terushima x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #oikawa x you #atsumu x you #haikyuu headcanons #tsukishima x you #there are way too many characters in this so im just gonna go with it lol #akaashi x y/n #daichi x you #yaku x you #suna x you #mattsun x y/n #alright bonk #I hope someone likes this bc I spent a while on it and it is just harming me hahahahahahah so at this point I just. have to post it #eep!!!! lol #oh my I hope you took a little comfort from the lighter ones that last one is kinda a hope🥺 love me love me perceptive men lol #accepting perceptive men oh hello hello🥰 lol

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

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trials

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, angst with a happy ending

summary: this one is a Santi story - he tries to bring another girl into the relationship, and learns instead how much he loves you

it wont be everyone's cup of tea but I felt like it was an important part of the story

note: don’t hate Santi! I think this is a pretty normal, and the best sunsets come after rain

Santi was the first to branch out. He didn’t mean to – hated himself for it a little, but he did.

This – whatever this is, it’s a ticking time bomb, he told Will. One of has to do something before it breaks all of our hearts.

It was a lie.

They both knew it. But he had the money and the looks and the confidence and he was just hurt enough by the sight of you asleep in Ben’s lap one afternoon that he just… let it get to him.

Brooded and boiled until he was overcome with false righteousness and pure selfishness.

He didn’t look you in the eyes when he told you he was going to try to get another girl. It wasn’t that he was leaving what you all had, just that he deserved a chance at whatever he called balance. His gaze in the other men’s eyes was too bold – the look of a desperate man, terrified of being hurt so causing it on his own terms.

You nodded numbly, shocked in spite of yourself, scolding and scathing voices in your mind telling you not to be selfish. Not to be greedy.

He deserves more than sharing.

Tucking yourself into Frankie’s arms, you tried not to glare or cry and only failed at the latter. Because it’s not the dating another girl that hurt, really it’s not. Polyamory is hard, and it was always an open option. What hurts is his blatant choice to ignore the relationship his has with you, specifically, that he’s ignoring everything you and him have worked for, built with love and time and care.

Rubbing gentle hands over your skin, Will and Frankie and Ben shared looks as Santi stalks away.

Frankie corners him in the garage the next morning. You had slept between him and Will the night before, but they had all felt you toss and turn, all spent a fair amount of time staring at the ceiling themselves. His dark eyes are an insecure that shoots into Frankie’s core – it’s a look he knows, has spent months overcoming. He swallows hard, his words dying in his throat, and he simply shakes his head.

It almost breaks Santi in two, the first moment one of his loves betrays the damage he’s done, but he tells himself there’s no going back.

“Better now than later, when our parents hate her or –”

Frankie’s look stops him and he flinches away.

Will is at the bar he chooses without an invite, knowing where he’d be without having to even ask and they both try not to think of you at home with Ben, probably dripping flames. Santi wonders if it hurts more to watch him flirt, or to do it, but neither of them say a word to each other. In spite of it all, the respect his judgement, respect his choice, and that hurts too.

It feels strange to have others looking him up and down and to look back, smile with lust void of love and soak in the attention.

Before he succumbs to it, Santi wishes Will would come over, slide his hand around his neck and… stop respecting him so much. It would pull him back, but since he doesn’t, the thought dies under the burn of cheap alcohol.

She’s lovely, really, graceful like a cat.

Santi has kept her from you all for a few weeks now, keeping his dignity with distance. But now she’s here, in your home, and you should be jealous but instead you just smile sadly at her, and slip off to the kitchen.

He likes… coffee, dark roast, with just a clump of raw sugar. You’re stirring it when you realize they followed you, hovering at the door. The ache of it is less than it was before and they’re happy together, so for his sake, you sit down across from her.

She’s kind, friendly. Knows the gist of the situation, tells you she’ll go at your pace.

And it crashes into you, how he’s pinned you at a time when know one else is home, offering her up to you like a plea, a child who used the superglue to make a gift, never mind the fact that his hands are both stuck to it and burning.

It feels reasonable to have another woman around, to make the numbers less absurd, to – to help you. Her smile is a little shy and she takes you hand and she looks at Santi with such adoration that a knot loosens in your chest involuntarily.

She doesn’t joke about it, any of it, and you almost wish she would. It would be so much easier to hate her if she was shallow, or stupid, or something but she’s not, and when she smiles you almost think you could be friends. You wonder if you could make it work, like they do for you.

Ben and Will come home early, stepping in like the angels they are, planting themselves solid at your side like trees with roots deeper than they are tall. When Frankie comes home, he takes the spot of the two of them as their eyes draw Santi into another room.

“What the fuck, Garcia,” Benny is as hurt as you are by it all, maybe more.

“Shut up Miller.” He’s glaring, filled with venomous satisfaction at how well the two of you have been talking.

“Cant you see it’s for the better?”

There’s silence – neither of them agree, too confused by him to respond.

“Don’t you ever wonder,” Santi tries again, knowing they’re listening because they love him too.

“No.” They spoke in unison, which makes Will roll his eyes. Neither of them hesitate, and something in Santi cracks.

You poke holes in the bottom of a styrofoam container with a plastic fork. She’s long gone now, but the date still lingers as you poke at your leftovers and try to unwind each moment of the date like strings of spaghetti.

On the surface it had gone well, you had thought you had fun until you felt a burn of tears under your eyelids.

Closing them you sigh, breathing like you practiced, gentle tides of love and logic washing over a feelings you tell yourself are selfish.

When you open your eyes, your Santi is standing behind her chair, and you almost cant breathe.

He went away for two weeks to help with a mission, and he’s here, one side of his mouth higher than the other. You want to kiss it, but you smile instead, and say, “You missed her by a couple minutes, sorry,” and actually mean it.

“I caught her in the parking lot,” he sits slowly, carefully, and when he reaches for your hands it’s almost tentative. It makes you blink again, how his eyebrows are bending. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t understand what it means, cant predict at all what he says next.

“I broke it off,” his eyes are in yours.

“I don’t understand,” you hear yourself say.

Santi searches for the words, like he had them but cant make them come out of his mouth.

“She’s not you,” he says. “I want you.”

You realize with a start that his hand is trembling, and he says your name in a way you’ve never heard before – like he’s terrified. That’s how badly he wants this, wants.. you. There’s no question in your mind, your eyes answer him.

It’s messy, not like a movie, the way he tugs you up and up and into his arms, the shudder of his broad shoulders and he buries himself into you as much as he can.

Like a hazy, blurry dream, your arms find their way around him, holding him like he’s fragile, another first.

He doesn’t say You’re enough for me, or You deserve the world, or anything dramatic.

Instead he says, “Can I buy you dinner?” And, “I’m sorry,” and “It’s been too long.”

And he says “I love you.”

He already asked the others, calling them each on his drive to you. Asked like he was young, if it was okay. Santi knew none of them had fallen in love with her, because even he hadn’t. But he had to ask for their permission as much as yours, to try to win you back.

They were more guarded than you, wary of his passion.

It takes time, and work.

He stays up later than he should talking with Benny about everything and nothing, hands nervously putting together snacks. When the younger man holds you, Santi teaches himself to join, to be held and hold you both. It feels good, which feels like guilt.

He works on that, too.

Frankie and him never talk about it. For weeks he thought his oldest friend had understood, more of less forgiven him without a word. One day they’re out for lunch, and his eyes flicker at the waitress, tucking her hair behind her ear. When he returns his gaze to the man across him, his blood runs cold. It’s been years since he’s seen furious determination brewing in Frankie’s dark, caring eyes, but it’s there now and he hates it. It takes discipline, to watch how he’s perceived as closely as he watched his intentions, but he does it.

It was easier than winning Will back.

“How long has your logic been shit?” Has your heart been in the wrong place this whole damn time?

“I just got on the wrong path, Ironhead.”

“Like hell you did,” his eyes were ice. “You let that happen.”

It would’ve been easier if he punched him. This wasn’t a kiss and make up moment either. The work ended up being long talks while you forced them to drive to pick you up when your car broke down the town over. Forcing words out being so honest it hurt, until has heart and throat felt raw. Making Will understand it was out of his own fears. Showing him how he was fixing it.

And weeks of letting with watch him again, eyes not missing a single touch or flinch or moment between you all. Actions to reinforce his words.

It hurt, but infinitely less than feeling distant from you all to begin with.

Will and your Catfish bring it up with you, one sunday afternoon as you tuck yourself between them and let their hands trace your skin.

“How are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Will. Better, I think. I missed him.”

Frankie places a row of warm kisses down the side of your neck.

“He missed you too. It’s Pope, he’s... he’s scared, love.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, yet.”

Ironhead grumbles at your confession, his big fingers squeezing the meat of your thigh.

“You gave him another chance, but you’re holding back. What does your gut say?”

“Unreliable - I’m in love with him.”

His head pops up and he kisses you before half-smiling. Frankie’s hand finds one of his, and they share a look.

“Can we tell you, querida? What we’ve seen.”

“Some objective evidence,” Will kisses you again.

“He loves us.” Another kiss.

“You.”

It’s quiet as Santi flips through his latest files. The evening air is cool, and he should be getting ready for bed but you’re not home yet, and they’re all milling about waiting. You texted them how tired you were, what an awful evening you had.

“It should just be another couple of minutes,” Will says, and Frankie checks his watch. Ben wanders to the kitchen and they can hear him mixing hot chocolate.

When you walk through the front door, they fold you in their arms. Santi holds back, doubt still nagging at his mind. You let him back in, let him take you don't dates, but you didn’t fit together any more. He was running out of ways to communicate with you.

But you slump over, gently pushing aside his files and placing his laptop away before replacing it with yourself. Molding into him you sigh, and almost instantly fall asleep.

You’re small and vulnerable in his arms and the weight on his legs feels like trust.

The air in the room shifts, lighter, more breathable than it’s been in months. Adoring, proud eyes watch, and he wants to cry.

For the first time maybe ever, he’s sure that everything is going to be okay.

The bar was mercifully quite that evening, and if made it easy for you to find your love. A small, familiar feeling tugged in your gut as you made your way over to him, eyes on the waitress who was leaning over him with unwholesome intentions.

Then the feeling settled, and was replace with a warmer feeling. She was putting down a tray that had your order on it, and Santi was thanking her, distracted checking your message on his phone.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. “Can we actually get out of here?”

His brown eyes were big, dark lashes catching the low lights as he stared at you. Somewhere in his mind, he thought too protest because your drink just got there, but the words stuck on his tongue.

“Yeah... yeah of course, baby,” He signaled for the check before standing to draw you in his arms. Saying no to you had never really been an option.

The two of you barely made it to his truck before your hands were all over each other. You liked the feel of him, pinning you against the metal frame, the desperate way he kissed you.

Pope was saying something about how you looked so fucking sexy, needing him so badly you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t concentrate on them.

“Pope,” you said against his skin, sliding your hands under his shirt. In response, he only made a soft groaning noise and increases his urgency.

"Santi," you tried again, before your own gasp cut you off.

"Santi - fuck - Santiago!"

The look he gave you was that of a dog, when you held the treat just out of reach.

"I'm yours," you said, pulling his head in to press against your forehead. "And you," you kissed him, hard, fingers gripping his beautiful curls. "Are mine."

"Fuck," you could feel his heartbeat, his pulse, he was pressing into you so hard, like he wanted to blur where he ended and you began. You knew he understood.

"I am," he said into your skin again and again that evening. Not selfish position, a promise and a proclamation: "I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

poly frontier taglist:

@grogusmum

#triple frontier #poly frontier #triple frontier poly fic #triple frontier x reader #will miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #francisco morales x reader #benny miller x reader

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foilfreak · 3 years

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Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

#salvatore moreau #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil 8: village #mother miranda #beauty and her beast #fic #mine #chapter 1 #re8 #re8 village #re village #salvatore moreau x reader #moreau x reader #moreau x oc #salvatore moreau x oc

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sixtyeightdays · 4 years

Text

you reap what you sow

prompt from @mialuvscats : i hope this meets your expectations ! im sorry this took so long, i tried uploading it from my phone but it glitched and i could only get my hands on the computer today

i’d like to say that i think if sabine and mari are there, damian and talia willl be relatively looser and not as uptight . mari and sabine are cold but loving and sunshiney. they keep talia and damian in check, essentially. which is why i wrote them in to be loose and free but able to be openly happy when they want to be, even if they are only happy around each other.

with sabine here i also thinkt hat talia will be slightly easier on damian, which also ties to the fact that he will not be as cold and uptight.

talia will be a good mother in this fic bc i want her to be and itll be ooc but its okay its my fic anyway

and the timeline is kinda messed up and all over the place sorry

that aside, have fun reading and i hope you enjoy!

talia and sabine are best friends, and before most of the class joins francois, marinette ruled the school after coming to paris with sabine. mari and damian are betrothed and the two are best friends. they can be icy one minute and sunshiney the next, although the sunshiney part is more mari than damian.

maybe the waynes come to paris, bc if theyre in gotham the others wont really know if the queen is back, and theyre kinda unsure why marinette is being timid and very unlike her ice queen demeanor she sometimes uses. mari is closest to jason in terms of batfam because firstly maybe she cleanses jason of the lazarus pit after helping damian using tikki's creation magic to counteract plagg's destruction one. since the waynes are here theres no point in mari hiding her queen status anymore and queue lila reveal

Talia al Ghul and Sabine Cheng were an unlikely combination, but worked perfectly well.

The two women were extremely close. Sabine was almost as deadly as Talia, but she made up for it with her devious mindset. She was the one who steered Talia away from doing anything wrong --well more wrong than usual-- and the one who was assigned to dish out punishments to usurpers.

The two could read each other like open books, and hence, when both Talia and Sabine became pregnant, Talia one month before Sabine, the two knew immediately.

They had debated whether or not to have their kids be betrothed, and eventually decided to let their children make the final call when their kids were old enough to understand.

Nine months later, Marinette and Damian were born. In the League infirmary, an hour after the two were cleaned and left there to rest while their mothers did the same, the two had already grown rather close.

Their baby cribs were next to each other, and somehow they were staring at each other through the walls of the crib, and were making small grabby hands to the other.

When Talia and Sabine were sufficiently rested and came to pick up their children, they were slightly shocked, yet gratified by their children. Sabine smiled and draped an arm around Talia’s shoulder, smiling lazily.

“I guess they’ll be as close as their mothers, non?”

Talia smirked, and the two walked forwards, lifting their respective children in their arms and walking to their quarters.

The two mothers did not regret it. Their kids were enamoured with each other, practically joined at the hip.

By the time Marinette and Damian were 5, they had a very extensive vocabulary, since they had learned to speak Arabic, French and English. They were also extremely smart and skilled with weapons.

Marinette was extremely adept at using a yoyo. It seemed weird, I know. But when the League was stormed when she was 3, she had taken out 4 men with her yoyo alone. Since then, she had been teaching herself how to use the yoyo effectively.

Damian preferred to use a katana. He looked much scarier than Marinette, even if the two were the same age. He had found a natural talent in using blades, knives, katanas and daggers included.

Marinette was the Rain to Damian’s Fire.

She was the only one who could calm Damian down when he was mad, mad.

But make no mistake, Marinette could switch personalities in a heartbeat. She was one of the League’s most skilled interrogators at the age of 5.

After all, who would suspect a pigtailed 5 year old in pink to be scary?

Damian much preferred his stoic and icy attitude. The only people he ever let loose around was Marinette, Sabine, and Talia.

Talia and Sabine loved the children to an almost deadly extent, and the four were extremely overprotective of each other.

Marinette had taken to magic as well. She had been trained by many people in the League about sensing magic. Damian did not have the patience for magic and rituals.

Marinette knew Damian was more of a ‘attack first ask questions later’ type of fighter, a stark contrast to Marinette’s ‘i will curse you and you will suffer in agonising pain for the rest of your life’ preferred type of fighting.

She’d never really liked getting her hands dirty, hence the magic. Killing people with magic was so much cleaner.

Sabine and Marinette had to leave for Paris when she was 9. For what, she wasn’t sure, but regardless of the distance, she and Damian constantly traded calls and letters. They would never go even a day without contact.

They were staying with one of Sabine’s old friends. His name was Tom Dupain, and he was an old wrestler and had worked with the League before. He and Sabine pretended to be married and Marinette’s name had hence became Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Damian and Talia stayed at the League, although all of them knew that Damian was to meet his birth father when he turned 10.

Marinette adapted her icy demeanor in Paris, never wanting anyone to get as close as she was with Damian.

A few hours in, walking around Paris, she had met an elderly man in a red Hawaiian shirt, emitting the aura of magic. She had confronted him, and eventually, he opened up to her about the Miraculous. Tikki, the Ladybug kwami, and Plagg, the Black Cat kwami had taken a liking to her.

Marinette was apparently something called a True User, a reincarnation of the first Ladybug miraculous wielder. Plagg just rather liked the aura of death and chaos she apparently gave off, from the League.

She and the other Kwamis also had a rather amicable relationship, and she’d go to the ends of the Earth for the tiny gods, and vice versa.

The elderly man, named Fu, had also started to train her into becoming the new Guardian of the Miraculous.

Before, Marinette had been planning on laying low and not drawing atention to herself, but once she had beaten up two upperclassmen for bullying her classmate and somewhat accquaintance Nino, she had been fiercely regarded by both the students and faculty.

As a result, she eventually grew close to Nino, and his friends, Kim, Alix and Chloe. She only ever let down her icy demeanour around them, showing the bright and bubbly girl persona she kept hidden. She wasn’t as close to them as she was to Damian, but they were all still quite close friends.

It wasn’t long after that Marinette became the queen of her school, at the tender age of 10, earning her title as the Ladybug. Or, as Chloe liked to put it, the Lady, because she was lucky enough to ‘get a friend like her’.

Marinette didn’t protest. She rather liked Ladybugs, and besides, it was ironic and it reminded her a little of Damian, who sometimes liked to call her his Maribug. Because she was sometimes a pest, he deadpanned. Marinette had whacked him with a pillow.

Everyone in the school feared the Ladybug. No one knew anything of her past. She was a mystery, an enigma that no one could solve. When new students came in after Marinette turned 14, everyone was slightly shocked to see their Lady change.

She was much more bubbly and approachable. Word had spread around that Marinette, the Lady, was trying a clean slate for the new kids. After all, not everyone should fear her.

Probably.

School eventually returned to what it was like before Marinette became the Lady, although she did still rule the school, she did it much more subtly, with more restraint and secrecy.

One of the new kids, Alya, had taken a liking to her. Marinette did not like her very much, she was loud and clingy and drew a lot of unwanted attention.

Marinette and her old crew, who had playfully called themselves her Consorts before the name stuck, had split up temporarily, to cover more ground and spread their branches.

Chloe was to pretend to be Marinette’s bully, Kim and Alix rivals, and Nino a shy recluse. They had had a good laugh about it beforehand, before watching Moana, because Kim wanted to compare the size of his muscles to Maui’s.

None of them had accounted for Adrien Agreste, who had tried to get the gum off Marinette’s seat like the naive, sheltered boy he was. Marinette had admittedly gotten mad at him for screwing up a perfectly good plan, before ramping up her ice persona to like, a 2/10, to get the newbies off her scent and scare Adrien away.

It hadn’t worked, because the boy was apparently as stubborn as he was naive. But besides that, Alya had been really grating on Marinette’s nerves, especially since she was convinced that Marinette had a crush on the model. It was not true, of course.

Honestly, Marinette thought dryly, as Alya dragged her all over the place to.. somewhere, she wasn’t even sure anymore. But frankly, she didn’t particularly care. Honestly, the only boy she’d probably ever have a crush on would be Damian.

Not that she’d ever admit it.

When Marinette and Damian turned 10, she and Sabine had taken a plane to Gotham to meet up with Damian.

Damian had not been having a good time. He was very much unwanted here, that was clear.

Grayson seemed to be the only one trying to interact with him. His father, had been trying his best to stay out of Damian’s way, which he reciprocated. Todd was flat out ignoring him and Drake just seemed to be busy all the time.

After all, who would want to interact with a grumpy 10 year old assassin?

He missed Marinette.

It was the day Todd finally tried to open up to Damian, that Marinette had arrived. No one had told him that she was finally meeting him again for the first time in a year. Sabine had left Marinette to figure out where Damian was on her own. She was more than capable of it.

With a quick scrying spell, she found him, and Kaalki opened a portal headed in the direction of Wayne Manor.

Meanwhile, Damian just appreciated the fact that Todd was finally extending an olive branch. He was lonely.

It hurt seeing his father care for everyone in the manor apart from him.

He had been walking along the gardens in the manor. Todd had joined him.

“Listen, I know it’s hard to feel accepted here. Sometimes, I do.” Jason gazed wistfully at the sky above him.

Damian was unsure of where the ex-Robin was getting at, so he just kept quiet. It wasn’t as if Damian didn’t know who Jason Todd was. Before he had come to the manor with Talia, he had read the Waynes’ files. In addition, Damian had known of Jason while he was affiliated with the League. They had never talked, or interacted, but he had known of the elder boy.

“I just, uh, wanted you to know that if you ever need anything, you can come to me.” He finished lamely, running a hand in his hair.

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating. “Thank you, Ja--Todd. I will.” He settled on saying dryly.

Jason visibly relaxed and cracked a miniscule smile. There was a sudden ‘swoosh’ sound, and both Jason and Damian turned around, bodies automatically going on the defensive.

Stumbling out of Alfred’s rose bushes, trodding on a few accidentally, was Marinette.

“Angel!” Damian exclaimed, moving forwards to help her forwards.

She brushed her shoulders off, looking around before freezing, staring at something behind him.

“Jay?”

“Pixie?” He asked, sounding incredulous.

Marinette rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Jason laughed and hugged her back, chuckling.

Damian quashed down the bubbling feeling of rage in the pit of his stomach and settled for casting a frosty glance in their direction. Not that they noticed, since they were too busy embracing each other, Damian thought scornfully.

The two pulled apart after too long in Damian’s opinion, laughing.

“Angel? How do you know Todd?” Damian asked coldly, ever so protective.

If Jason noticed the sudden reversion to his surname instead of his first, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, he came to Paris with Lia once and I cleansed him of the Lazarus pit madness, like I did with you.” She replied.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked. Damian had forgotten about that.

“Visiting, of course!” She winked. “Now, let’s give your old man a good scare.” She pecked Damian on the cheek before vanishing. (Thanks, Trixx.)

Jason and Damian looked to each other. “Did you know she could do that?” Jason questioned. Damian shook his head before pausing.

“Wait.. how did she get into the manor?”

The only response was the faint echo of a laugh.

It was time for dinner anyway, and only Damian, Jason, and Alfred knew of Marinette’s presence. Marinette had voluntary evelaed herself to the elderly butler after noticing his aura.

It was Miraculous tainted. If Marinette could guess, he had been either one of Duusu’s, Sass’s, or Nooroo’s.

When the butler had retired to the kitchen alone, Marinette had unraveled Trixx’s magic veiling her and waved at the butler.

To hi credit, he didn’t so much as bat an eye before his eyes widened as he took her in. Marinette cut to the chase.

“Who was your kwami?” Alfred had surveyed her for a second before seemingly trusting her.

“Duusu.” He answered.

Marinette smiled. “I’m Tikki’s.” From her perch in Marinette’s left pigtail, the red Kwami pried open the folds of her hair, waving once at Alfred before sinking back into the recesses of the bluenette’s locks.

Alfred blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m presuming you’re staying for dinner?”

Marinette beamed. “I’m gonna scare the big bat.” Alfred nodded, accepting this. Marinette clapped her hands and she disappeared again. Alfred shook his head, smiling faintly.

Conveniently, it was one of the times where everyone was there. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Rare these days, what with Dick in Bludhaven, Tim at WE, and Jason off being Jason.

Bruce was currently on his way back from WE, although it would take around half an hour. He had told everyone to start eating first. Perfect.

After Marinette’s encounter with Alfred, she had reappeared in Damian’s room, where she and Damian caught up. Just like old times.

She had disappeared again once she left the room, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure where she went.

Alfred set the the table as per normal, which Damian and Jason noticed right away. They looked to Alfred, who merely winked before stepping back into the kitchen and laying out the food.

There was a screech of a chair as Marinette, disguised as Bruce (Trixx in her right pigtail and Tikki in the left) sat down. Dick looked startled.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back till later!” Dick exclaimed.

Mari-Bruce shrugged. “Faster than I’d expected.” She answered, securing the veil of Trixx’s magic around her vocal chords, making her voice sound exactly like Bruce’s.

Jason inched away slightly from Bruce, though she pretended not to notice.

Alfred nodded at her as he reentered the room.

Everyone dug in, occasionally talking. It had been about 25 minutes before the sound of the door opening could be heard. Damian and Jason’s head shot up, thinking it was Marinette.

Mari-Bruce smirked. Showtime.

Bruce entered the room, not noticing Mari at first. Until the batboys gaped at him. He looked confused. What--?

Mari-Bruce was a pretty great actress. “Who are you?” She thundered, internally laughing.

“Who are you? I’m Bruce Wayne.” He answered, looking befuddled and frustrated.

“Impostor.” Mari-Bruce accused.

Bruce spluttered. “No! I’m the real Bruce!”

Mari-Bruce scoffed. “That’s what an impostor would say.”

Damian and Jason seemed to figure it out, although they probably weren’t sure which Bruce was the real one yet.

Tim rubbed his eyes. “Am I seeing double, or?”

Bruce said, “Ask me something the real Bruce would know.”

Dick looked torn, but did as requested. “Who murdered your parents?”

“Joe Chill.” They both said at the same time. Mari-Bruce and Bruce winced, selling the act.

“When’s my birthday?” Tim asked.

“July 17th.” Both Bruces answered.

Tim looked surprised. “You actually know my birthday?”

“No shit, Tim.” Mari-Bruce said, rolling their eyes. She rather wanted to proceed to the next part of her plan.

“Would I say that to you, Tim?” Bruce asked slightly desperately.

“Maybe?”

Bruce facepalmed. In the confusion, Mari took the chance to slink into the shadows where she rewrapped Trixx’s invisible magic around her.

Only Damian noticed. He smirked. “Where did he go?” He asked, placing a hand on the hilt of his katana for emphasis. He didn’t see Marinette smile at him.

Everyone looked panicked. “Search the manor.” Bruce ordered.

Jason still looked slightly skeptical but did as he said. Damian drew his katanas and tilted it in the direction he was going.

Amongst everyone, Bruce was the most attacked. While Jason and Damian paired off, Tim and Dick did as well, ("Don’t go alone!” Was Bruce’s admonished cry), Bruce had gone alone.

If she were being honest, Marinette had always had a grudge against the billionaire. He hadn’t saved his son, he had tried to kill his son, even though he had a no killing rule --which Marinette thought was plain stupid--, and he had left Damian to suffer at the hands of Ra’s Al Ghul.

Talia could only do so much to save her son.

Yes, Marinette was aware that Bruce hadn’t know Damian existed, but now he was still treating Damian as if he didn’t exist. Marinette knew how much Damian craved affection, even if he never admitted it.

Yes, maybe Bruce was getting better, but maybe she could.. spur the process.

So Marinette retaliated in one of the many ways she knew how.

Messing with them.

So when the Waynes regrouped in the dining room, Jason, Damian, Dick and Tim came back unharmed, and Jason had been filled in by Damian of his suspicions. But Bruce?

He came back covered in honey and feathers, drenched with water and covered in pink slime.

“Why is he going after me?” Bruce had questioned in that annoying voice of his, after looking over his spotless sons.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t like you. God knows he’s not the only one.”

Bruce looked slightly hurt but Jason didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Maybe this person is infatuated with you and is vying for your attention.” Damian deadpanned dryly. Marinette had smacked him on the back of his head, still invisible.

But the damage had been done.

Bruce snapped his fingers and ‘aha!’-ed at Damian. “That must be it!” Bruce crowed.

“Are you that narcissistic, you arrogant plebeian?” Marinette’s normally cheery voice was dry and dripping with distaste as she unwrapped her magic.

Bruce, Dick and Tim immediately went on the defensive, shifting into a battle stance. Marinette only scoffed.

“If I wanted to harm you, I would have already done so.” Marinette waved a hand in their direction dismissively.

Dick looked confused. “You’re like, ten.” He pointed out.

Damian glared. “I am ten as well, Grayson.”

Tim butted in. “Are we not going to acknowledge the fact that this tiny ten year old broke into the manor unnoticed?”

That brought everyone to their senses.

They were suddenly surprised by Marinette running at Jason, full speed. They expected him to duck or whip out a weapon, but all he did was stand still as she flipped in midair to land on his shoulders.

To their utter shock, Jason grinned, even as she fisted her hands in his hair for a better grip.

Damian only smiled fondly at his Angel. She was as short as he remembered, Damian noted.

He missed her. More than anything.

Marinette beamed, and slid off Jason’s shoulders.

“Why did you attack me?” Bruce asked. “Isn’t it obvious, fool?” Marinette revamped her icy demeanor and glared at the civilian Batman. “I despise you.”

Bruce looked very affronted. But Mariinette ignored him, even as he continued talking and made her way over to Damian.

“Damibear!” Marinette sang, as if she hadn’t seen him less than an hour ago.

The Waynes looked as if they expected Damian to attack her just for calling him that. They were not expecting him to grin and say, “Angel.”

Mari jumped on his back, and Damian merely repositioned himself accordingly, used to this from all her previous piggybacks.

“Okay so Jason and Damian helped her get into the manor.” Tim deduced, only to notice Jason and Damian shaking their heads.

“All by herself.” Damian and Jason chorused. Marinette made bunny ears on top of Damian’s head.

She kissed Damian’s forehead lovingly, replying to his ‘i am older than you’ with a ‘yeah by like a week’, and looked to his family.

She winked.

Then disappeared.

There was silence, and then, “Wait, we didn’t even get her name!” From Dick.

Damian and Jason were interrogated that night, and they refused to tell them anything related to Marinette.

Marinette smiled from where she had hidden in the shadows, and made her way back to Damian’s room. She curled up in Damian’s bed, drifting into sleep. She was almost asleep when Damian returned.

And when Damian pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered, “Goodnight, Angel”, a smile made her way onto her lips.

By the time Damian had slipped into bed with her, her head leaning comfortably on his chest, she had fallen asleep.

When the two turned 15, Talia and Sabine sat them down and told them about the betrothal. Damian had been visiting with Talia.

It had been almost two months since Lila had turned her classmates against her, not that she cared, of course. She still had her Consorts after all.

“Marinette, Damian, we’d like to tell you something. An offer? Of sorts. I’m relatively sure you will accept, however.”

Talia smiled as Marinette dragged a grumpy Damian over to them by the head, beaming brightly.

“Oh come on, Mian! Don’t be such a grumpy banana.” Marinette reprimanded the older boy who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The boy only smiled lazily, and ran another hand through his best friend’s hair, the girl making a small noise of protest. “Thats what you get for calling me a noodle, Angel.” (if you didn’t know miàn means noodle in chinese)

Sabine cleared her throat but looked at the two with amusement clear in her eyes.

They straightened. “Sorry, maman,” Mari muttered.

“Now, before you two were born, Sabine and I had an agreement. We are perfectly fine with this and the implications of it, so it is up to you to whether to accept or not.” Talia got straight to the point.

The two children looked to each other curiously before turning back to their parents. Damian nodded in acknowledgment and Sabine picked up where Talia left off.

“How do you feel about each other?” Sabine asked, watching the two closely for their reactions.

“If that’s your way of asking us if we’re okay to be siblings, since you and Lia are dating, Maman--” Marinette started but was quickly interrupted by a barely noticeably flushed Talia.

“No, not that, and we aren’t dating, Nette.” Talia aimed a playful glare at the girl, who grinned and blew a raspberry at her.

“How would you and Damian like to be betrothed?” Sabine asked, smiling at her friend and daughter fondly.

Marinette spluttered and Damian coughed.

Talia and Sabine burst out into laughter.

After the adults got their laughter under control and after a few glares from their kids, Damian spoke up.

“Marinette is my best friend. If I had to be betrothed to anyone, I’m glad it’s her.” Damian looked away and Marinette coughed awkwardly into her elbow.

“You misunderstand us. You don’t have to be betrothed. The choice is yours.”

Damian felt slightly attacked. He really did like Marinette, and the betrothal was an easy excuse to ask her out (even if he was a 15 year old). He didn’t know if Marinette felt the same way, and he didn’t want to impose that on her, so he kept quiet.

Marinette, who was looking deep in thought, answered.

“Can I talk to Damian for a while, privately?”

Damian, despite his better judgement, winced. This was probably the first time in a really long time that Marinette called him by his full name. It was normally Dami, Damibear to annoy him, or some other weird nickname like Mr Grumpy Banana this morning.

Regardless, the bluenette hadn’t called him “Damian” for a very long time. Two years, maybe.

She walked out of the room, Damian trailing slightly behind, before stopping a few feet outside the room.

Marinette slid down onto the floor, her back pressed against it and head in her hands. Damian frowned. He didn’t want his best friend looking so.. dejected. He ignored the slight pang of hurt that the thought of being with him could get this kind of reaction out of her.

He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder like he always did when any of them felt upset. He was happy to feel her lean into his side like she always did.

She turned her head and buried it in Damian’s side, breathing in his comforting scent of paints and nature. He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly and she almost burst into tears.

It wasn’t that she was opposed to being in an engagement with Damian, it was just that she didn’t particularly want to be with anyone or love anyone, especially after her father died and Damian’s father abandoned him.

Her mother and aunt didn’t show it, but they were sad about their fathers. She had heard Talia interacting with her ‘beloved’ before, and it almost always ended up in tears or frustration. (Not that Mari blamed her, Bruce was kind of an asshole.)

She felt Damian’s chin press into her scalp and a hint of a smile grazed her lips. But this was Damian. Damian who was her best friend. Damian who supported her no matter what. Damian who comforted her and was there for her whenever she needed it.

Damian would never hurt her. And she was determined never to hurt him, ever, if she could help it.

She looked up and smiled at Damian. The smile he loved so much, the smile she always had on whenever she saw him, the smile that would unconsciously fly to her lips whenever she heard his voice.

Maybe it was then that Marinette should’ve known that she loved her best friend, but then again, she was only fifteen. She didn’t know what love was. But she would. Very soon.

“We accept.” Damian told Sabine and Talia when they reentered the room.

“We thought you would.” Talia replied.

When Marinette turned 16, her last year at Francois Dupont, six months since she’d made Lila’s time a living hell with her Ladybug (both in suit and in school), and fashion clients connections, the Waynes had visited.

Turns out, Damian and Jason got caught trying to sneak onto the Wayne private jet but instead of stopping them, they insisted they came along too, having pieced together that Damian and Jason were going to visit the mysterious tiny girl they couldn’t find the name of.

So they had no choice.

And os that leads to now, with the Waynes standing in the courtyard, elicting a growing crowd as they waited for Marinette, looking the part of scary rich people that can end your life without a problem.

Damian suddenly started running, and he hugged a girl. No one could see who the girl was because her head was buried in Damian’s chest and his body was shielding hers.

Not many people in the courtyard was surprised when they pulled away and standing there was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all, she was one of the most successful students in class that didn’t get fame from famous relatives. No, al her fame was hers alone.

In fact, the only people surprised were Marinette’s class, not-so-fondly referred to as the Akuma Class. Her Consorts were the only one who knew of her betrothed, Damian. Other than that, Marinette had never been willing to share.

When Marinette saw the other Waynes however, after hugging Jason, she rolled her eyes. Bruce, Dick and Tim stalked forwards, looking every inch the scary billionaires they were.

It was broken by Dick hugging the girl and gushing over how cool she was. Tim smiled at her and she had smiled back. Marinette flipped Bruce the bird.

“Why are you... so sunny? You definitely weren’t like that when you threatened us in Gotham. You were such an ice queen.” Tim mentioned, failing to keep the amusement out of his tone.

“What do you mean? Marinette’s always been like that, even if she is a bitch now. There’s no way she can be cold.” Alya remarked snidely.

Alix and Chloe stalked forward, raising thier fists threatningly. But Marinette only laughed coldly.

“You wanna see cold, Cesaire?” Marinette snarled, dropping all acts of being nice.

The Lady was back. Publicly.

The silence was interrupted by Rose, who asked, "But Lila, don't you know the Waynes?"

Said Lila had been trying to slink away unnoticed, but when her name was mentioned, all attention diverted back to her, effectively keeping her in place. Her pale face and scared eyes were enough to tell that she had indeed been lying.

Yells and screams broke out across the courtyard as the Akuma Class berated Lila for lying to them all this while. Until, Marinette interrupted, face set in a ice cold, stony position

"Okay, blame her for lying." She started. "But why did you believe her?"

The Akuma Class drew a blank and didn't respond. Partially because they didn't know what to say, and partially because Marinette's mere presence was overwhelmingly intimidating. Marinette sighed and pressed on.

"Everything the Liar has said can be found faulty by a simple internet search." It was true, and the class knew it. When no one replied, Marinette shook her head sardonically. "You reap what you sow."

She turned to her betrothed. In an instant, her icy mood was gone, replaced with the sunshiney-ness the Akuma Class had grown used to.

"C'mon, Dami!" She gave him a quick peck on the lips, hoisting herself up on Damian's back. Damian grasped her legs tightly, as she continued to be piggybacked by him.

"Onward!" She cried out dramatically, pointing to the school exit.

Damian only rolled his eyes fondly at his beloved, steering themselves out, her Consorts and his family behind them.

None of them looked back.

If they did, they would've seen the expressions of disbelief and regret etched onto every one of her old classmates' faces.

Not that they would care.

5k words yay

also uh yeah again, sorry this took so long, i kept hitting a mental block while writing this and it didnt manage to upload from my phone for no good reason :(

but anyway its up now, i hope u find this acceptable! :)

#maribat #mari is raised by the league #talia is actl a good parent in this fic bc i can #sabine is a queen as always #marinette is a godess #she is an icy queen #yes ik i spelled goddess wrong #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #ml x dc #dc x ml #betrothed #daminette #okay i think im done #i dont really know what else to tag

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

Text

Hearts Pounding and Blood Coursing

I am back with yet another D&d week fic! Is everything I write going to be set in Dick as Batman times? Maybe. Maybe. This one certainly is.

Dami Calls Dick “Baba” / First “I love you” / “You’re not my father!” “I am well aware.”

Summary: When Batman goes missing on patrol, it's up to Robin and Batgirl to track him down. Will they fall into the same trap he did, or make it out in one piece?

AO3 Link

The old warehouse looked ready to collapse in on itself any second. Damian wondered why Gotham was so littered with them. He’d told Grayson a hundred times that they needed to do something about them. Wayne Enterprises could surely step in and repair them or rebuild them or do anything to prevent them from becoming hives of villainy as they were wont to do in Gotham.

Grayson. Damian’s chest tightened. Grayson would not be able to talk Lucius into anything if they did not rescue him soon. The stupid man had gone on patrol alone and had not returned. Thus it was up to Batgirl and Robin to rescue him.

“You ready, Baby Bat?”

“Call me that again and I will paint that horrible motorbike of yours a garish shade of orange.” Damian snapped, less focused on coming up with proper revenge threats and more on finding his lost partner.

“Alright, remember the plan, you’ve got the window on the second floor and I’ve got the one on the first. We meet in the middle or wherever we find Batman.”

“I would not forget such a simple plan so soon after making it.” Damian replied, already pressing a gloved hand against the window in question to test it, “Now may we begin? Or would you like to chatter until whoever is inside parades Batman’s dead body out of the front door?”

“No, let’s go.” Brown replied.

Damian nodded, the glass was firm under his palm, not quite as ramshackle as the rest of the building. He slipped a laser cutter out of his belt and ran it across the edges of the window, and let it fall backwards into his palm.

“And Robin?” Brown added, as Damian was setting the glass aside, “Batman’s going to be just fine, okay?”

“Tt.” Damian responded, then added a quick, “I know. He will.” as if to convince himself of the fact as well.

He climbed in the window and dropped quietly into the building. Damian found himself in what looked like an office. An old desk stood off balance, titled down on a broken leg. Papers and overturned file cabinets took up most of the rest of the room, with huge windows that looked out over onto the warehouse floor below.

Damian slipped out of the door and into the hallway beyond it. He flicked a flashlight on to illuminate the dark interior and crept through, ears perked up for any sounds.

The whole building smelled of dust and mildew, and something else that was sharp and sour. Around him, the walls were covered in ancient cracked paint that might have once been white, but now looked more yellow than anything under the beam of the flashlight. Cracked and broken picture frames featuring staff, products, and some construction site Damian couldn’t recognize decorated the walls, and floor where some had fallen.

An eerie unsettled feeling crept it’s way into Damian’s head, tingling from the back to the front like cobwebs. He spun on his heel, the flashlight swinging wildly first behind him, then up to the ceiling to check for the source of the feeling.

Nothing. He was alone.

Slightly abashed, but still feeling odd, Damian turned again to continue down the hall. The feeling only seemed to increase as he walked. No doors presented themselves at first, which was strange. This building should have a number of offices in it.

Damian thought back to the blueprints he and Brown had analyzed a few hours earlier. Grayson had left them open on the Batcomputer. Their one big clue to where he’d gone.

There was one section of the building with a longer hall than others, but Damian had thought he hadn’t come in that way. Had he already gotten turned around? That quite simply wasn’t possible. He’d only been moving for a few minutes.

He slowed his pace, flashlight swinging from wall to wall as he carefully examined each one. No doors still. So he must have come in the other way. Perhaps his fretting over Grayson had caused the error. Mother had not been entirely incorrect in her assumption that feelings for another caused problems.

Still, Damian had decided that he was willing to fail a little more if it meant keeping Grayson in his life.

The further into the building Damian moved the worse it smelled. The sour, acrid, scent that had been mostly hidden under mold and disuse gradually became the prevailing one. Damian scrunched his nose at it, and tried to figure out where he knew it from. It tickled his memory, like something he should know and made the hair on his arms raise.

So far, he had heard nothing from Batgirl. Though, that was a good sign. They had decided to keep the comms silent until they found something or needed immediate assistance. They had no idea what Batman had run into in this warehouse, nor how he had been taken down. It was best not to draw too much attention to ones self, and wasting time with pointless updates or incessant chatter would be just that.

He could have sworn he’d seen the same picture of the construction site three times now. But, no he was probably just seeing things. Mistaking the weird old building and land for something else in the dim light.

With every step that unsettling feeling grew stronger, until at last, he came across a door.

Damian should have been relieved seeing it, but the anxious feeling only grew as he reached out to turn the knob.

Slowly he eased the door open, and peered into the room, listening for any sounds of occupation. When no lights flared on or voices sounded he took a step into the room.

The smell here was far worse than it had been in the hallway, as if something inside were the source of it. Damian gulped back bile and stepped further inside, his flashlight held ahead of him like a shield.

As he did so, the world swayed sideways. Damian blinked, trying to clear his vision, but the room still seemed skewed to the side.

He took another step forward and all at once the memory of the smell hit him. Fear toxin. Not as strong or as tick as he was used to, and still masked with unknown notes but Crane’s toxin all the same.

He reached up to alert Brown of the situation and tapped the comm unit in his ear, comforted by the fact that the usual hum of connection reached his ear.

Before he could say a word though, something cracked against the back of his skull and his world went black.

When Damian came to, it was slow and plagued by shadows cast over everything from the back of his eyelids to the ceiling above him. He blinked at the ancient popcorned paint and yelped as all at once it seemed to morph into staves, razor sharp and now raining down on him.

Damian shot up from where he lay, and found himself not impaled by a hundred sharpened stalactites of paint but simply faced with a throbbing headache and hands bound in front of him.

He sat, just breathing for a few moments and staring down at the cuffs and his gloves. After a moment the nightmare faded, but left that same lingering uncomfortable feeling he’d gotten on entering the hallway. Fear, he now recognized it as, not the overwhelming fear Crane’s toxins were best known for, but something more subtle. Like waiting on the jump scare in a movie.

The room didn’t smell of the toxin, and Damian assumed what he was feeling was lingering effects from what he’d breathed in earlier, and not a new dose.

The lighting in the room was provided by a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling which Damian glared at. Of course Crane would be so predictable as to make the room he’d been placed in creepy in the most cliched of ways.

His gaze travelled down from it and across the mostly bare room. More yellowed walls, cracked with age, and decorated with dreary photos resided here. And then there was—

“Batman.” Damian breathed.

Grayson lay in a crumpled heap in the center of the room. Damian had been dropped in at the back, either before his brother had been returned or Crane had purposely carried him over the unconscious body of his partner. And Grayson had better only be unconscious or Crane would feel Damian’s wrath unleashed fully against him without hesitation.

Damian scoffed at the flimsy cuffs Crane had put on him and picked the lock quickly. The villain had not even bothered to attempt to remove Damian’s belt or other gear.

Soon he was up on unsteady legs, much to his displeasure, and then taking the few strides needed to reach his Batman.

He crouched beside him and began his examination of his partner. The first thing he noticed was the rise and fall of Grayson’s chest. Then his eyes caught sight of the variety of bruises coloring his chin, how his lips were split and swollen, and the various rips and tears littering the Batsuit. One lense of his cowl was broken out and Damian could see another ugly black bruise over his closed eye.

Crane had not wasted a moment with Batman it seemed. Something he would pay for if Damian had the opportunity to avenge Grayson. But first, he needed to get his brother out of here and inform Brown of the true danger lurking in the warehouse.

This time when he activated his comms no one bashed him over the head.

“Batgirl.” He said, keeping his voice low, “Scarecrow is here. He has incapacitated Batman and locked us in a room together. I will do my best to get him out, but I would do better with your assistance.”

As much as he despised asking for help, Damian was not a fool. He could not both carry Grayson and defend him if Crane returned. Batgirl’s backup would be key in them all getting out of there alive, and in potentially apprehending Crane.

“I will be right back.” Damian promised Grayson, then stood.

There was only one door in the room, and Damian moved towards it. He was careful in his examination, wary both of traps and his mind playing tricks on him. He was far too lucid for the earlier gas to have been pure fear toxin, but he could not discount it having lingering effects beyond what he had experienced waking up.

He tried not to wonder if any of this was real or fake. He was sure now he’d imagined the hallway being longer than it was. If that was false, what else might he be seeing that was a lie? What if he was hallucinating his Batman being there, beaten and bruised? What if something worse lingering outside the door?

What made it worse, was the fact that with Crane lurking it was highly likely a nightmare was waiting for them, real or imagined.

It didn’t matter. Damian couldn’t be frozen by what ifs. His Batman was hurt and needed him. Grayson needed him to act like this was real and keep moving.

The door was not locked. Of course it wasn’t. This trap was turning into an even deeper trap with every minute longer they stayed. It made the fear in his chest twist into dread. A cold sharp worry right between his ribs.

Damian swung the door open right into more darkness. He growled, this was getting ridiculous. The one thing he no longer had on him was his flashlight, dropped when he’d been foolish enough to get knocked out.

Fine, he had other light sources he could work with. And if he had to walk in the dark he would. Brown was surely on her way, even if she had not responded to him yet.

He turned back to Grayson to crouch beside his brother.

“Batman?” Damian prompted, shaking Grayson’s shoulder gently, “I would much prefer it if you were mildly conscious and were not complete dead weight.”

He prayed that the Grayson who woke up was both sensible and toxin free. It was a hope he thought might be in vain, but based on his own experience with Crane’s toxin tonight the man seemed to be testing a new strain. It seemed less all encompassing and more designed to disorient and instill a quiet, constant, fear of a more general nature.

His brother groaned.

“That’s it.”

Damian’s encouragement seemed to help drag Grayson back to the surface. So much that he watched a bleary blue eye blink open through the shattered cowl lense. Grayson’s eye was bloodshot, but his iris looked normal. Well, normal enough for a possibly concussed, probably drugged, and definitely beaten, Batman.

“Come on Batman, we need to go.” Damian said, tugging at one of Grayson’s arms.

His brother mumbled something incoherent, but allowed himself to be dragged up from where he’d been curled. It took some effort, but eventually Damian had Grayson awkwardly positioned over his back like some kind of kevlar covered sloth. One arm draped over Damian’s shoulder, fingers brushing against his uniform, with the other was held tightly in Damian’s hand.

He tapped his R insignia to light it up. The beam was pathetic compared to his flashlight, but it was all he had right now unless he wanted to waste time searching Batman’s belt for a flashlight that might or might not be there.

On Damian’s first step forward, Grayson seemed to be putting in some effort to push himself with his feet. By the time they made it out the door, and took a random left down the hallway, he was already flagging.

Damian grit his teeth and bit back a complaint. Even this situation was better than the alternative. Damian would drag Grayson for miles over dealing with him under the influence of fear toxin the way it normally worked.

He hefted Grayson a little higher against his back from where he’d slipped. His brother’s chin rested on his shoulder, and Damian could feel his breath against his neck. He felt Grayson’s breath pick up, as he stirred back to wakefulness.

“What’re we doing?” he asked, voice thick with exhaustion.

“We are escaping a trap you fell into.” Damian explained.

Grayson tried to pull away, “S’not safe. You have to go.”

He was thrashing now, so much so Damian had to stop moving forward just to keep him held up.

“Stop fighting me and we will! If we do not keep moving we will be in even more danger--idiot!”

Grayson had thrown himself off Damian’s back, and thumped against the floor with an oof. After a moment he flipped over to look up at Damian, a deep frown on his lips.

“Batman!” Damian snapped, then realized, that perhaps he had been wrong in his assumption that Grayson was not dealing with toxin effects.

He was a fool. He should have given Grayson a shot of the anti-toxin the moment he found him.

“Calm down.” Damian said, lowering his voice to something soothing, “You are injured and drugged, and if you do not listen you may hurt yourself worse.”

Grayson pushed himself up on his palms, wincing, “You need to leave, Scarecrow is here and he’s after Batman.”

He nodded, kneeling beside Grayson, “I know. You need to let me give you a dose of the anti-toxin, and then we are leaving.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Damian blinked at him, surprised by the sudden petulance in Grayson’s voice. It sounded a bit like Drake when he was disagreeing with Grayson.

Careful, Damian slipped a vial of anti-toxin out of his belt, and popped off the lid. He held it out so Grayson could see it.

“Okay. I am not telling you what to do, simply asking. Will you let me give you this? It will help you feel better.”

Grayson shook his head, lips going from a frown into a pucker. Is this how everyone felt when Damian was being difficult? He would have to keep that in mind in the future. Grayson was a saint for putting up with his antics longer than the ten seconds Damian had been dealing with Grayson’s.

“Listen. We need to get moving. If we stay here much longer we’re going to get caught. You need to let me do this.”

Damian reached out to take Grayson’s arm. He was just about to press the syringe between a tear in the uniform when Grayson yanked his arm back.

“You’re not my father!” He shouted, sounding almost just like Damian had heard himself sound a hundred times when he’d still been wary of his brother.

“I am well aware.” Damian frowned, furrowing his brow.

It felt very strange to him to imagine Grayson seeing Father in Damian. It was a complicated feeling that made his chest feel tight like he was about to cry. It was also something he could not linger on for long. Grayson was not in his right mind, and every moment they sat there on the floor was another moment Crane could find them in.

More than that, it was frightening. A word Damian did not use often or lightly. Seeing Grayson like this was...wrong. Grayson should not be childish. He should not be so confused he saw Father in Damian. For one they were nowhere near the same height. For the other, well, Damian did not think himself worthy of being compared that closely with his Father yet. Perhaps ever.

But it was more unsettling to see Grayson so helpless. So disarmed by this drug in his system. Damian did not like it, and he wished to right this wrong as soon as possible. He resolved himself to get the anti-toxin into Grayson’s veins now, no matter how the man fought him.

Of course, that’s when he heard it. The creek of a footstep on the wood paneling in front of him.

“Stay down.” Damian said, standing, then added, “Please.”

He didn’t wait for Grayson to respond. Instead he spun on his heel, trading the syringe in his hand for a batarang.

A few feet before him, Crane stopped in his tracks. Even illuminated by Damian's dim light he could see the man wore his typical scarecrow mask, and carried a scythe in between his palms.

“Hello, Little Bird.” Crane sang, “I see you found your bat.”

“Tt. He was not hard to miss.” Damian said, bracing himself.

Crane hefted the scythe, pointing it towards them, “Of course. I was hoping you’d be a little more impacted by the sight and not run off so quickly. You’re a hard bird to frighten. Do you know how much toxin I pumped into that hallway earlier?”

Damian shrugged, “I don’t care. In fact, I’ve had enough of your blabbering.”

He threw one then two batarangs at Crane watching the man deflect one with the scythe, and dodge the other.

Crane tsked him, stalking forward. “Not so fast, Bird Boy. I have a bone to pick with your mentor first.”

“No.” Damian growled, brandishing a third batarang in his hands, “Keep moving and I will end you.”

“Doubtful.” Crane said, his mask pulling up into a smirk, “Bats don’t kill.”

“Batman doesn’t kill.” Damian corrected him, “You touch him again and I will not hesitate to take you down.”

Crane chuckled, and took a step forward, only to yelp, then jerk as if he were being shocked. When he collapsed forward, Damian saw the source of his sudden strangeness. Batgirl stood, taser held forward, a blinding grin on her face.

“I had it covered!” Damian protested.

“You’re welcome.” she said, already moving to zip tie Scarecrow.

“Tt.” Damian said, and opened his mouth to argue further, but was stopped by a hand on his ankle.

“Damian?”

He turned, and found Grayson leaned forward just enough he could grab Damian. He was looking confused, and concerned mouth turned down and eye worried. Damian’s heart skipped a beat. Grayson had heard him say he’d kill Crane. Damian would not break his promise, not with Grayson safely behind him, but he’d also been furious with Crane and ready to defend his Batman however he needed to.

Dread pooled in his stomach. What if Grayson thought Damian serious? What if he--He did not have time to worry about that right now. They needed to get him home and taken care of. Batman’s health was his priority, not how he viewed Damian.

“It’s alright.” Damian said, voice dropping back to a careful softness he hoped would soothe an toxin induced reactions, “We are leaving.”

Damian knelt again by Grayson’s side, and began the process of trying to help him up. Thankfully, Brown was here. Once she’d finished with Crane, she added her own strength to Grayson’s other side, and together they carried him out of there.

The exit was surprisingly close, and soon Damian was settled in the back of the Batmobile beside his Batman. While Brown drove, Damian held Grayson's hand and did his best to explain the rescue to his brother. At some point, however, Grayson passed out again, tilted over, and against Damian. It was not an unpleasant feeling being the one Grayson trusted enough to fall asleep against.

Pennyworth took over when they got home, and Grayson was, mercifully, mostly fine. Bruised, battered, and unconscious, but he’d be fine. That knowledge eased some of the tension in Damian’s chest.

Both Grayson and Damian received doses of anti-toxin. The way it almost immediately started to make Damian feel better hinted that he'd been more effected than he'd first assumed. Damian would never voice it, but he was grateful for Brown's save. He wasn't sure how well he would have done in a true fight against Crane in that cramped hallway.

He showered quickly then planted himself at Grayson’s side, ignoring Pennyworth’s suggestion that he should lay down and rest his own bruised head while he waited for the anti-toxin to completely remove the lingering feelings of fear in his system. Sitting was just as good as laying, and this way he could keep an eye on his brother. Brown offered to stay, but Damian waved her upstairs along with Pennyworth. He’d be fine keeping an eye on Grayson, while they moved for a cup of victory cocoa, or tea in Pennyworth’s case.

There was no victory for Damian tonight. Not until his brother woke up and he knew he was fine.

Even being home, and not in the middle of some wild trap, Damian still couldn’t get over Grayson being so vulnerable. It was wrong. His Batman could be an idiot, but he was also competent and strong and worthy of respect. He was not helpless or so confused he viewed a child as Batman.

So Damian held vigil.

He played on his phone, opening up a mindless game he could pass the time with while still being able to keep one eye on his brother. Unfortunately, Damian ended up getting kind of wrapped up in a particularly hard level. It took a solid ten minutes for him to clear it, and when he looked up again it was into bright blue eyes, totally aware of where they were and who they were watching. Damian’s cheeks flushed.

“Grayson.” he said, dropping his phone into his lap and straightening.

As he did, his phone slipped off his thigh and smacked onto the floor with a loud thump. Damian stared down at it for a moment, briefly considering leaning down to pick it up. Instead he planted his fists in his lap and looked back up at Grayson.

“I am glad to see you have awoken.”

His brother’s lips quirked into a wry smile, “You would have seen a bit earlier if you hadn’t been so focused on, Candy Crush?”

“Angry Birds.” Damian muttered, cheeks still hot.

He leaned forward to examine his brother. He couldn’t say Grayson looked too much better, but the split skin on his forehead was cleaned and closed with a butterfly bandage, and his lips were looking less swollen. His expression, happy and open is what was truly improved.

“You are looking better.” he said, “I’m glad.”

“I’m feeling better.” Grayson responded, “Wanna give me a run down of what happened? My memory is spotty at best.”

Damian kicked his feet up onto the bar on the bottom of his chair, “When you did not return by morning Brown and I began to make a plan for your rescue.”

Grayson nodded, “You found me?”

If his cheeks were not already red they would have blushed again, he shook his head, “Crane got the drop on me. I am not sure what he was planning, however it seems my intent on getting you out upset his plans.”

“We were moving down a hallway--” Grayson stopped, his eyes widening, “Oh, Dames I’m sorry. I was the worst wasn’t I?”

Damian tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“I kept seeing Bruce, and for some reason I was mad at him.” Grayson ran his hand through his hair, “That was you, right?”

“You were not too much trouble.” Damian shrugged, “In fact you may have helped prevent Crane successfully sneaking up on us again. In the end, Brown saved us both.”

He wanted to ask if Grayson remembered the actual confrontation, but at the same time Damian was not sure he wanted to know. He almost squirmed, but held back. Robin did not squirm.

“Thanks for coming after me.” Grayson said, reaching a hand out to Damian.

After a moment, Damian took it.

“I am glad you are okay.” he said, “I--did not like seeing you injured.”

“I bet. You sounded pretty angry.”

Damian wasn’t sure how to respond. He tapped his heel on the wood under his foot.

Grayson squeezed his hand, “It was sweet, you threatening him.”

“You--” Damian spoke before he thought about it.

“I?”

He swallowed, “You did not think I was serious, right?”

“You promised me you wouldn’t kill, right? I believed you then, and now.”

Damian nodded, “Of course. He should not have hurt you.” he added, again losing the words before he thought about them.

Grayson slipped his hand out of Damian’s to reach up and brush it through Damian’s hair.

“You either.”

“Tt, do not be so sentimental. It is foolish.”

There was that smile again, “I think I have the right to be sentimental. My baby brother and basically little sister came running to my rescue.”

Grayson reached for Damian’s hands with both of his, “In fact, I’ll be a little more sentimental.” he pulled Damian forward, “Join me? I’m tired and I don’t want to be alone. Plus I doubt Alfred’s going to let me trek upstairs until at least tomorrow.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be tugged forward, “Fine.” he relented, “but only because Robin must make sure Batman rests properly.”

#dickanddamiweek2021 #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #Stephanie Brown #hurt/comfort #canon typical violence #fear toxin #scarecrow is here for like 2.1 seconds #precious posts

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weeb-writor · 4 years

Text

Bakugou’s S/O dies in a crash, leaving him a single father

Hello, gonna be very honest I forgot how to read properly and read a request wrong and wrote a 3000 word fic for it, woohoo! But i mean at least you guys get a fic from it, lol. Italics are flashbacks, bold is reality trying to pull him out of his head, and the regular text is reality. The actual request should be up tomorrow. Reader is neutral and I didn't specify the birthing process! Hope you all enjoy.

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Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Bakugou’s S/O dies in a crash leaving him a single dad, he has flashes backs of your life together.

TW: Death, depiction of a car crash and blood. Kinde heavy angst

Words: 3052

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“I am so sorry sir but there's nothing we could do for them, w-” The doctor went on but the words slurred together in Bakugou's mind. This isn't how it was supposed to go, you were both supposed to grow old together. Supposed to send Kaori to her first day of school together. To bully the shit out of her first significant other. Go all out on each and every one of her birthdays. To give her at least 3 more brats to hang out with...to cry as you sent her off to college. This isn't how it was supposed to go, he was supposed to protect you, to be your hero. Everything you both had promised to each other was slipping through his grasped fist and the flashbacks were not helping either.

“Watch where you are going, Pomeranian.” You said to him.

“Pomeranian? The fuck, watch your mouth shitty extra!” He roared back at you.

“I think you’re the one who needs soap in his mouth, you're cursing every other word.” You cocked a brow at him.

“Whatever you god damn extra, get outta my way i'm gonna be late.” He backed off shocking his small group of friends.

“What the heck bakubro! If I said that to you I would be dead! You’re caught by the balls already!” Denki said pouting

“Whaddyah just say dunce face? I am not and it doesn't matter. I went easy cause they're so insignificant I wont see them again.” He said with a shrug as they walked into the training yard where their class was meeting.

“Alright, today we have a few helpers from other classes to help you with physical combat skills without the use of your quirks. Pair up with them, if you can actually beat them the first go than you pass. If you don’t, then well you fail, and will do supplementary training with me after every class.” Aizawa said, zipping himself into his sleeping bag.

“Hello class 1-A, Im Y/N. I am in charge of everybody you're about to fight, we've all trained in various types of Martial arts, and uhh you're probably all gonna lose but try your hardest alright?! I've got match-ups based on your physical abilities, so let's begin.” You said getting everyone into their pairs.

“So much for never seeing them again, huh?” Sero said laughing at the fuming bakugou.

“Yeah you’ll be seeing a lot more of me Pomeranian boy, but for now let me wipe the floor with you.” You said getting into a fighting position. He remembers how he lost that fight, terribly he might add. You only offered to help him after the loss, ignoring all his cries of protest. He didn't only lose the fist fight, he lost his heart to you. He had hoped you would never give it back to him, but here you are giving him his heart back. He hated these images, he wants them to stop.

“Bakugou”

“Go on a date with me.” You said as you and bakugou walked back to the dorms together after a sparring session.

“What!?” He yelled at you a deep shade of red.

“You know, on a date, and then you know if all goes well like 2 more before you kiss me and ask me to be officially yours because i'm not easy, you know?”

“Who asks like that!” He continued to yell.

“What did you want some flowers too, bakugou.” You giggled at him.

“You damn, dumbass! Fine but we're going now!” He said grabbing your hand and pulling you away.

“Wait but we are sweaty and I wanted to look nice! You're such a tyrant, Bakugou!” You sang as he pulled you away but slammed into his back as he came to a halting stop.

“Katsuki...call me Katsuki.” He said looking to the side with a blush. This moment was precious to him, your stupid giggle always brought brought blood rushing to his cheeks and made his heart race. As precious as it was, he begged his mind to stop, he didn't want to see what he couldn't have anymore… he wants to forget.

“Bakugou!”

“You know, if i knew you were so messy I wouldn't have moved in with you.” Bakugou yelled to you as he put up one of your many blankets that were always littered around the house.

“Sorry not Sorry, Kat, it's your fault for keeping this damn house like an ice box all the time.” You said as you shoved some more takeout into your mouth.

“And why did you order takeout, i wanted to cook instead of eating that shitty and so unhealthy food.” He nagged you some more but you only giggled. He smiled, that had become his favorite sound.

“Because Mr. Pro- Hero some of us are college students barely staying afloat! It's my last semester so let me live, you ass! Also you are so much like your mother babe, it's kind of funny.” You said to him. His head was bulging in irritation as he sat next to you.

“I can't believe I want to marry you…” He said shaking his head with a sigh. You put down your takeout and stared at him with wide, teary eyes.

“You want to marry… me?” You said to him, he chucked at you before placing a black velvet box in your hand.

“Yeah, so say yes and put the ring on.” He blushed looking away from you.

“You jerk, this is how you ask me? And like an idiot of course I'm putting on the ring with no hesitation.” You giggled around your tears, admiring the ring you had just placed on your finger.

“Yeah, as I recall, you asked me out the same way. Whaddyah want some flowers?” He teased you with a grin. You looked at him with burning passion before your lips met, engaging in a fiery dance of passion. Stop, stop. Please just stop, he begged his brain. At the moment he thought it was perfect, it was so you and so him. Now, he wished he did it on tv or yelled it from the rooftops. Maybe then it would have shown the universe, or god, or whatever was taking him from you just how much he needed and loved you. Just maybe it would have permitted this outcome.

“Bakugou!!”

You and bakugou stared down at the little 6 pound baby. She was sleeping peacefully for the first time since the girl came home, which was 4 day ago! Maybe it was because you had just taken her to meet her grandparents and she didn't want to deal with her grandparents much like her father.

“Give me that baby!” his mom said swopping the baby into her hands. You only giggled at her excitement but Bakugou threw a fit.

“Mom! She's a fuc-freaking newborn! You’ve got to be gentle and support her head! You’re gonna hurt her, it's dangerous” He shouted at his mom.

“Oh hush you ingrate. If that was true believe me kid you’d be dead by now, would've saved me a lot of trouble. Now come on little Kaori, I know you've got it.” She said looking down at Kaori.

“What's she got?” You asked curiously. The blonde did not respond, only blew a little stream of air on the baby's nose and then turned her towards you and the blonde next to you who was still pouting. The baby stirred before waking up giving you all the meanest mug you had ever seen come from a baby. She stared at bakugou and then at you before going back to sleep.

“She’s got the bakugou bitch face or the bakugou glare or even the bakugou mean mug. However you want to call it but that doesn't matter cause she’s got it.” His mom said placing the sleeping baby in the basinet you guys had brought.

“Did that brat just glare at me!?” Bakugou whispers, causing you to burst into full belly laughter.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” he said to you trying to hide his small smile that was brought out by your laughing.

“Nothing, I just love you and I believe you just said H-E double hockey sticks so we're getting takeout on the way home, love.” You said kissing his cheek. He only stuck his tongue out at you before mumbling a quick ‘i love you back’. It's getting more painful now he's drawing closer to the day he knew his mind was counting down to. As much as he wanted to relish in the memory all he could think of was how Kaori wouldn't remember you or your melodious laughing. How he should have said I love you more clearly in that moment. He wanted it to stop, he wanted the flashes to stop, the memories to stop but they wouldn't and he knew because they were telling your story.

“BAKUGOU!!”

“Come here, dumbass I wanna cuddle!” Bakugou yelled from your bed.

“Hold on I just wanna call your mom and make sure Kaori is okay. It's the first time Kaori has been away so long. She’s only eleven months, she's probably scared without us.” You said with the phone in your hand pacing.

“Babe, if you are so worried you should know I called my mom while you were bathing. Kaori is chasings around my mom's fat cat. And my moms gonna call when they are putting her to bed so we can say goodnight. Now, get over here and quit worrying I want to cuddle you.” He said finally getting you relax enough to lay down, you rested your head on his chest.

“You're such a good dad, you were worried enough to phone your mom.” You said breathing in his caramel scent.

“Of course I did, I worry about you and Kaori whenever yall are out of my sight. I love you both too much yet not enough at the same time.” He said to you kissing the top of your head.

“Katsuki I want us to always be this way, I want to always be with you and kaori smiling. I love you both too much too.” You said back to him straddling him to meet his eyes.

“I want some more brats and a cat and a dog. I want everything with you. And I want it for forever” He said looking up at you with passion. He needs it to stop, he can't relive the same nightmare. He didn't want the image of you dying in his hands to replay, but that's where his mind was heading, wasn't it?

“Bakugou!? Can you hear me!?”

“You know when people said you become boring when you have a baby I didn't believe them but were totally boring. We just did 10 over the speed limit to pick up Kaori.” You said taking a glance in the mirror to see her cute little grumpy face.

“Baby I realized we were boring when we went to that baby store on our day off to look at baby stuff and we went “ ohh” and “awhh” to every third object we saw.” He said back to you with a chuckle. You giggled at him and your eyes fluttered shut for just a second, it was a second too long because when you opened them you slammed into a car ahead of you that had just been in an accident causing a pile up. Behind you a semi rammed into your suv doing terrible damage to the car and everyone inside. Bakugou was the first to wake and quickly fought to get himself free. Once he did he was all over you but you were in far worse shape and the metal of the car dug into you, slicing you open, and locking you into place.

“Noo.. Kat get Kaori first.” you whispered to him.

“Y/N, i'll get you out first, you're right here. Then we’ll get kaori together.” He said tears spilling from his eyes.

“Katsuki, please get Kaori first. Please, i'll try to get loose myself” You plead with him, he thought about it but you were more stuck than her and you were bleeding heavily from the metal cutting into your abdomen.

“Katsuki Bakugou! Her first, then me! I’ll wait for you, promise.” That was all he needed to hear, his heart ached for his little girl who was crying softly more shocked than hurt.

“It's alright baby we're gonna get you safety and then dadas gonna come get mommy and we’ll all go home cuddle.” He said as he pulled the baby from her car seat, recognizing ‘home’ and ‘cuddle’ she clapped at him. He planted gross, wet kisses all over her face before dashing to the place where he saw all the flashing lights congregating. It was a pretty big pile up so there were a lot of ambulances. He took the first one open.

“This is Bakugou Kaori, she’s eleven months and has no allergies to anything or any medication. I'll be coming back with Bakugou y/n who has a pretty deep gash in their abdomen and isn't allergic to any medication either.” He said as the EMT took his baby from him. He almost didn't want to leave her but he knew you were waiting on him, so he dashed back to your totaled car where he saw people crowding your figure as they had just pulled you out.

“Y/N!” He said dropping to the ground taking you from the girl who was holding you.

“Come on, you're bleeding a lot we’ve got to get you to the ambulance.” He said tears cascading from his eyes as he tried to lift you while simultaneously slowing your bleeding but as he lifted you not only did you scream, blood rushed out of your gash at a very alarming rate.

“We can't lift them, they're losing too much blood, the ambulance got to come down here….They’ll die if we take them down there.” Someone said as Katsuki placed you back on the ground. He wanted to yell at them and tell them they were wrong but he knew they weren't. As well as he knew the ambulance wouldn't fit down here, it was hard for him to fit through the cracks of the cars. He had to try though for you, for Kaori, and for himself.

“You're all hurt, go get to an ambulance and get some help, idiots.... And please, I'm begging you, make one of them come down here.” The group of people nodded as they raced for the ambulances.

“Told you I’d wait on you, Kat.”

“Yeah, you did such a good job, baby! You are so strong, love. They went to get help, everything's gonna be alright.” He whispered to you clutching your body closer to him.

“Who are you trying to convince me or you.” You laughed coughing up blood.

“Stop laughing, dumbass this isn't funny.” He gritted his teeth at you.

“Alright then stuffy, onto the serious business. I want Kaori to grow up knowing what love is, so tell her all our cheesy stories. I want her to grow up knowing she is so loved by you so tell her everyday from me and you that you love her more than anything. I want her to know she can come to you for anything so don't be such a hardass to her when she starts to rebel a little…. I don't want her to forget my face or my voice too much, so as much as it might hurt at first show her all the pictures and videos we took over the years. And when she's old enough to understand what happened tonight tell her she doesn't need to go to my grave if she ever wants to talk to me, I'm always watching over you both, promise.” You paused to throw up some more blood. “And now for you my love, I won't say anything to cliché. Like ‘i want you to find love’ cause we both know I am the jealous type but if it happens don't worry I'm not turning over in my grave. I want you to keep following that dream of yours if anyone can be the Top hero and a single dad it’s you, Kat. I want you to indulge yourself and eat takeout sometimes that stuffy diet of yours isn't fun. Be sad for as long as you need but just don't hold it all inside and try to continue on like everything is fine. It's okay to cry, to need a break or some help or both really. Lastly, Bakugou Katsuki, I love you and I am so sorry we didn't get that always and forever we wanted.” You said using the last of your strength to caress his cheek. He sobbed as he grasped your hand and held it tighter to his cheek.

“I love y-” he tried to say but stopped as he realized you were already gone. You didn't get to hear it back from him… the scream that ripped from him was pure anguish in its finest form. He should've been quicker to say it. He should have said it more often. He just should have. And now he was begging his head to stop playing these flashbacks to stop driving the knife further into his heart, he had a daughter he was trying to live for. He just wanted it to stop.

“DADA DADA”

Just like that he was drawn from his head. He looked around to see his friends and family staring at him in concern and his daughter at his feet with fat tears rolling down her face. He quickly picked her up, cursing at himself as he probably just scared her.

“What are you crying for you, little brat?” He started but paused as fat tears of his own rolled down his sunken cheeks “Everything's gonna be alright soon, so we shouldn't cry for too long okay, Brat.” He said as he hugged Kaori tighter than he should have. Somewhere in his mind he did believe it. That he and his daughter would be okay but for right now he was trying to stay afloat in the waves of suffocating flashbacks.

#bakugou katuski x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #bhna x reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #very sad #angst #poc writers

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dissonantdreamer · 3 years

Note

Do you have any Ellie/Cat headcanons? Personally I wish we got to see more evidence of their relationship. Honestly I low-key ship them. (Of course Ellie/Dina is no.1 but...). Personally I think Cat & Ellie would’ve been a really sweet couple. I imagine there is not a lot of other lesbians or bisexual women in Jackson so I imagine they both had a lot to figure out together (though I think Cat directed the course of their relationship, considering what we know already).

thanks for the ask, anon.

here’s a ramble bramble under the cut:

I think there are probably a few, Seth’s line directed at Dina is worded in a way that implies there are already some lesbians who fucking hate his guts. I always figured Joel had an idea that Ellie wasn’t straight, the hotel scene can either be taken as him teasing Ellie about liking Jesse, or him hinting that he knows she doesn’t like Jesse and he’s gonna tease her til she’s ready to tell him. Knowing Joel, it would be the latter.

I feel Cat was more open to everyone and once she started coming around Ellie’s place, he got a feeling there was a reason. He wouldn’t press Ellie to tell him anything personal she wasn’t ready to. I also see her journal as being too nervous to say she has a girlfriend not because of how he’ll take it in the coming out sense, but Joel comes off as that kinda really awkward time to have this conversation about safety and Ellie just does not want that from him. (though it would be funny as fuck to see him try) all that being said i have a few headcanons about them and they are as follows

-Cat? suuuuper into horror. Where Ellie likes sci-fi and 80′s action flicks Cat loves watching horror movies and her art books are filled with creepy designs.

-they would draw next to each other and they would either listen to ellie’s cassettes or cat’s CDs depending on where they were. they split earbuds to listen to music and you could feel dina seething from afar

-cat is very tactile and gets ellie to allow more easy physical affection like hand holding, hugging each other while they’re standing in front of a bonfire both instigating and receiving

-ellie will talk about the stars and cat will draw doodles of them in space, chilling on the rings of saturn or passing by mars in a little rocket ship

-cat made her own tattoo machine, she also figured out how to make ink. ellie is the first person she tattoos that isn’t herself.

-i also kinda based this one off of the yukio/negasonic interactions with deadpool. where ellie is like “joel is lame as fuck don’t say anything to him” and cat always says hi to joel and joel comments on how much better her manners are than ellie’s (pre-finding strings)

-post finding strings, things just fall apart. ellie starts to disappear and lash out, where dina tried to work with ellie at the end even at the cost of her own mental health, cat recognizes that ellie needs help she cannot give and pushes her to talk to someone about what happened with joel (she doesn’t know how deep it goes or why but she can’t help ellie if she wont talk)

-ellie ends it because she feels l but cat understands and after a month of taking time to themselves they settle into old familiarity trading art and comics

-cat recognizes dina’s crush after the fact and teases her about it in a way that she thinks is friendly but dina sees as hostile (like any interaction she has)

-and the one NSFWish hc because i thought about it once for their dynamic and how that would manifest as adults for a fic, is that she doesn’t know shit about sex she’s not the one who teaches ellie anything, she just knows she wants ellie, they are each other’s first and they figure it out together.

-ultimately they are good for each other, just not as a couple. i see ellie going to her after california and asking her for help to find resources to get better cat helps her but also gives her some shit for hurting dina, because despite what dina thinks, cat likes her and thinks she good for ellie.

#kind orb with sick shades #these are just a few #the best part is that anything goes since it isn't defined

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ccsthemovie2 · 3 years

Note

(I think it's a word over 500, but:)

"Speaking of Tsukishiro, how's he doing?", Eriol asks. Frying pan to fire to volcano.

"He's good," Touya says quickly, before Sakura can say anything. Yukito is not even in the ballpark of "good". Yesterday he called Touya and begged him to bike over and said it was important and when Touya showed up he was asleep, and stayed fast asleep right through to the next morning. He keeps trying to make appointments with doctors, and then falling asleep before he can call, or, when Touya calls for him, before he can make it out the door. Privately, Touya isn't sure how much good a doctor can do for him, but anything has to be better than this, right?

"Really? I'm glad to hear it." Ugh, how much has Sakura told him. Not that she doesn't have a right to talk to her friends, but, come on, would it kill her to least keep it between her and Tomoyo and the funny looking cat.

He's good, that's an obvious lie. Ruby has said Yukito could barely stand upright at school. Every inch of Touya Kinomoto is packed full of magic. Sooner or later, Eriol figures, either Sakura will be powerful enough to sustain him, or Yue will have to get over himself and just eat already. Touya can't actually do anything with his magic, so it's not like Yue, even weak as he is, will have to face much of a struggle to take it. (Aside from competition with Ruby, of course. There's something to that, right, articles and studies about animals being healthier if they need a bit of careful planning to get their food? Yes, so this works out nicely.)

Or maybe- oh, that's probably it. Yue's on to him, isn't he? He's just being stubborn as usual, figuring sooner or later Clow will appear via Eriol and save him. He can imagine how surprised, overjoyed, grateful Yue would be, if Eriol showed up and saved his life. He can imagine Yue's head resting on his neck as clearly as if he had kept Yue well-fed with magic a thousand times in his lifetime. It would be nice, in the short run, but it wouldn't be right, no. Clow is dead, and Yue needs to learn to live with that. If he knows what's good for him, he will take responsibility for his own life, and if he doesn't...

Ahh, well, maybe it's Clow's old sentimentality, maybe Eriol is just warming up to Sakura's moon guardian all on his own, but he can't bring himself around to the idea of letting Yue just die. He'd save him, if it came down to it. But, he tells himself sternly, only as an absolute last resort. He's just worrying because he misses Yue and wants to get to know him better all at once in that past-and-future way- it's worth a visit, soon. Yes, a nice little visit, and Yue will never even have to know it happened. Just to check in.

(sorry the formatting got weird when i copypasted lol!)

hiiii thanks for the ask!!!

if we talk about this convo we need to back up and talk about how it got here. this should give you some idea of how badly this needs to be under a cut for length lol.

so it all starts with the bit about how someone falling and being caught is something that happens a lot in ccs. how with eriol, it's purposeful, and with fujitaka (and i misremembered it but since found out she fell *on* him and not *caught* by him, which lolol i hope he broke a bone, but also its fine the fic's already marked canon divergent, or maybe the story gets misremembered, whatever, in any case), it's an echo of clowriol's intentional artificial-trustbuild-dangersaves but without the magic or purpose to back it up (just like fujitaka himself!), but it's a situation he quickly makes favorable to him, because it may be a blank slate but it's made of the same material.

this whole convo was part of one of the very first chunks written, but everything was going to go in a very different direction at first. (there's a lot of Cut Content from this fic, some that i just didn't like, some that wasn't connectable with the rest of the fic after it took the shape it took but might pop up somewhere else one day idk). in this particular bit i cut the later half of the conversation because i really didn't like what i'd written, but then even though the direction of the story changed the conversation was still going so it had to bounce somewhere else, so it bounced to yukito. here we are answering your ask 2 paragraphs in!

yukito, iirc in the anime, did catch her from a fall, (in the manga, which made way more sense for why she had to change her clothes and rest so much, he saved her from drowning, again iirc because who can trust a memory) and at a point where eriol still has some investment in making yuekito/sakura (ewwwww) happen, he's going to try and draw on that symbolism to nudge her in that direction, right?

so all this said, SPEAKING of yuekito. how are they doing.

bad, obviously. touya's freaking out. i imagine that part of what's stopping yukito from seeing a doctor is yue, though- he knows it wont help, and i dont think yukito has, like, person insides that will stand up to medical tests, and yue would pick up on yukito like, not wanting to be outed to the doctor as a magic construct because he, like, doesnt actually have a real heart that pulses, just a repeating heartbeat sound. doesn't for real have blood etc to test, just records of blood type (for personality reasons).

and also touya's a very like keep-ur-problems-not-everybodys-business type so hes like imagining sakura venting her fears to this weirdo and getting pissed off. but that didnt actually happen, eriol knew all on his own lolol. touya you have to say something nice should happen to sakura to make up for wrongly suspecting her now

and this bit on eriol's end is all wrong information and inaccurate conclusions and i was really worried ppl would take it at face value but i hope nobody did. in ccs we get moments where eriol wants sakura to take power, or to learn that power can be taken- his final battle with her, for example, where the answer to his light and dark puzzle is to use kero and yue's power, except that's not something she would ever Want to do or would even Occur to her to try. the power is gifted to her by kero and yue (and syaoran!) because they love her.

same concept, here- the answer to the 'yue is dying' puzzle is to eat touya's power, and he can't imagine the real reason why he won't just do that, and when he thinks about it too long it goes right to his ego- yue looovvvvesss clow, and by extension me. he wants meeeeeee to save him. he wants to neck kissy MY magic soo sooooo bad. but yue isn't considering any of that at all. he's thinking about yukito and what touya means to yukito and why that would make yukito hesitate to reach out, and that no way in hell will he just ambush his other self's crush down a dark alley and take his magic, even to save both their lives. he's a lot more selfless than clow and eriol ever realize. maybe- this is just a half formed thought right now, i dont know if im like certain about it, but- maybe they feel his devotion to clow was a form of selfishness, that he Wanted Love as a thing he could hold and own, whereas pretty much everybody else who meets him goes like YOU SELFLESS MAN YOU CANT JUST DIE FOR PPL YOU CARE ABOUT YOU GOTTA TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOOOO

and there’s also that bit of teacherliness intrinsic to the three of them again: im doing this to teach him a lesson. im letting ruby do her thing without telling her what’s going on to help and encourage yue, etc.

anyway, that (in terms of fic weaving itself into canon) solidifies his decision to do uhmmmm a thing that creeps me out real bad in the anime (knocking yue out to have a moment with him, and oh, ding, there's another 'you fell but i caught you' moment!). eriol loves this manner of hanging out with people, you see it later in this fic, even:

It's important to say what's in your heart to the people you want to say it to, even if you have to make sure the other person never hears it. It's important for your own emotional freedom.

he loves to spend time with people exclusively on his terms, to the point where the other party never even knew he was there, because he knocked them out, or because he was just staring creepily at the outside of sakura's house while she did homework, etc etc etc.

tldr: it's all connected, aaaaaaaaa

#ask

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spacemilkies · 4 years

Text

gateau→ ; part i of iii

pairing: cal kestis x reader

word count: 2.5k+

summary: “So you had a Jedi as a roommate … that wont be a problem in the future or anything.”

a/n: a bunch of new things to get me writing. all written at some ungoldly hour. this will probably be a three part series. something short and simple, based off the prologue with some background. hey, no song fic for once. i spent all day in this fandom. i feel ready. put me in coach.

_______

“C’mon just this once, please.”

“Oh ho, no no. This is definitely not the first time.”

There was never a good reason for your roommate to visit you on the job. Not only were you stationed on opposite side of the station, you differing positions also lessened the opportunity for you to meet up without explicit reason.

He was a rigger and you were a builder, simple as that.

You refrained from lifting your mask, maintaining a sense of distance from the conversation as you continued to weld the two pieces of metal together. Maybe if you did your job hard enough he would eventually give up out of respect of your workload….

Who were you kidding.

A fiery shock of red hair crouched down next to you, apparently uncaring for the wayward sparks emitting from your torch. It was only when he dared to lean closer that you reluctantly cut the power out of concern for basic occupational safety.

Flipping the hood of your mask, you gave him your sharpest glare to which he combatted easily with a killer smile. If only it was as effective on his conquests as he seemed to think the same applies to you.

“You’re all just going to melt it down any.”

Any metals and ores that made it up here were better than the average scraps found in the lower sectors and certainly worth a pretty sum of credits. It was your roommate's favorite way to exploit your job and threaten your only means of survival in the same breath.

Darting your gaze around, you found that for once your colleges were rather forgiving of personal space. Though it didn’t mean that your supervisors wouldn’t have watchful eyes on your every move. Hence why these daring favors tended to have more impact than meaningless valve.

You weren’t agreeing. Definitely were not going to get drawn into to those pleading baby blues. You were just curious.

“And what exactly do two upstanding individuals as yourselves need with my fine metals?”

Cal’s smirk was shallow but no where lacking in its killer properties,” I’d bend your fine metals anyway.”

With a huff, you nudged him away with your shoulder. Practice allowing you to ignore the faint flush it brought to your cheeks.

“You’re wasting time, Cal.”

“Just something nice. I’ll pay you back.”

You were not going to fall for it Totally, explicitly would not lose resolve on your promise to not give in like last time. You were strong and resilient and Cal was a big boy with his own means of survival and-

“I swear to all above, Cal if you-”

The force of his lips against your cheek nearly knocked you over and you were left momentarily stunned as nimble fingers searched knowingly against your body. Before you knew it, he was drawing away, your access card in hand.

You should be happy with how quickly he scrambled to his feet, prepared for a hasty departure. It wouldn’t be long before your superiors began making their rounds and the last thing they wanted to see was a scrapper hunting around their stores.

Gesturing with two fingers against his temple, Cal waved off before he disappeared around the corner.

“Why are you not working? Your pay is based on your progress, not your time.”

Swallowing down a retort, you merely smiled shallowly in response to the haughty order as you tugged back down your face mask, Cal’s phantom touch still lingering against your form.

“Of course, sir.”

_______

It should be said that Cal wasn’t a terrible roommate. In fact, when he first responded to your advertisement you had a feeling that he would actually be a helpful one.

That was a lie.

You knew that he would be a cute one. Someone that you would have to try /really hard to keep your hands off of. Fortunately for you, at the beginning he felt more like a brother than a bachelor. His boyish habits cutting into some of his charm.

It didn’t take much longer than that before the two of you fell into a rhythm of sorts.

Having another human around was kind of nice too.

Not to say you preached xenophobia. Some of your closer friends on this desolate planet were part of varying species. But in a way it aided in building a familiar quality of home even as you reside on the opposite side of the galaxy.

Cal was moderately fair roommate. He wasn’t spotty with rent and you split the amenities, as scarce as they were, fairly. He was a little messy but not in the obnoxious unhygienic way.

Everything was balanced.

And you couldn’t really complain.

He was a great guy. His humor and antics proving to raise your mood after a long day. Just the way he spoke about his own day bringing tears to your eyes and curling your stomach with laughter.

You were a capable engineer, even though your talents were wasted on rebuilding the same schematics over and over again. At home, you are able to hone your own skills. Working on various knick knacks and gadgets. It was nice to have a second opinion as well.

The two of you had spent many nights huddled around the living room surrounded by scattered parts and various prototypes. Only to have to separate the more advanced ones in fear of being caught.

It was nice.

_______

“Damn, I didn’t think the boss would ever let you off.”

With less finesse and not a care in the world, you dropped haggeded into the seat offered by your friends. After another long week it was nice to finally load off with a few drinks and company chatter.

For some reason the quota skyrocketed in the past few weeks. The recycling of old metal into new vessels becoming an unrelenting force on your crew.

It turned out to be one of the worst moments to find yourself promoted.

To think just three weeks ago you were throwing around drinks in celebration and now you were ready to drown out the accomplishment with whatever was on tap.

“Apparently they’re bringing in a huge freighter soon,” you called out solemnly. Your supervisor had shown you the schematics of the parts that would be salvaged and what they wanted to accomplish with its predecessor.

After another long shift all you could really make out was work and more work.

But at least the same would be said for the riggers.

To your right Reif, a Rodian, spoke crudely over a mouthful of food,” Yeah, been hearing about that one for sometime now. Suppose to be a Separist ship. Going to be quite the project.”

Slouching idly in your seat, you played lazily with the handle of the mug offered to you. Just another long project to keep you stranded on this planet. Not to say you had any plans otherwise.

If anything you should really thank them for giving you something to focus on.

Garnering everyone’s attention with a slam of her glass against the table, Enisa a pretty pale blue Rylothian, slurs loudly,” Enough of all this work talk. Let’s focus on something else.”

Then she’s sliding sharply into you, leaving you to fumble with your own glass,” Like your roommate. Why didn’t you tell me he was available.”

Because you weren’t in the market providing companions?

Your furrowed burrow must have voiced your thoughts because she was rolling her eyes without your verbal response.

“Oh don’t play dumb. You’re harboring one of the few attractive souls on this god forsaken planet. And you’re not even bumping uglies with him, what a shame.”

You were stuck between defending your own choices and wondering when she learned such a human phrase. It was hardly worth the effort of explaining how the two of you just weren't like that. Your inventory of excuses were running dry.

“Stop making it awkward for her, she has to live with the guy.”

Catching Reif’s gaze over the rim of your glass, you give him a thankful nod. The rest of your group takes the initiative to fill the silence and progresses the conversation further into the night. Unlike most outings, neither of you are able to keep up with one another past a few extra hours. The weight of the day taking more out of you as it came to a close.

You’re not the only one grateful when Reif brings the outing to a close.

There is just enough alcohol in your system to make you stumble through the threshold of your home, groaning quietly as you try to stabilize yourself. More likely than not Cal was already asleep and you didn’t want to disrupt that.

Now with the evening settling into your bones, there wasn't a part of your body that didn't ache and the incoming headache didn't make any part of it better.

Right now the couch was looking a lot more inviting than it should be. You’d deal with the consequences it would leave on your body in the morning.

Rounding the edge, you collapsed back into the cushions.

“What the hell?”

“Shit, Cal! What the fuck?”

A sharp hiss escapes him when your elbow jabs unkindly into the softness of his side. Before you could try to remedy it, his hand is gripping your upper arm and settling you more safely in the available space rather than on top of him.

For a moment it's just your mixed breaths as you come down from the unexpected surprise. With more care, you twist more comfortably mindful of your limbs this time.

It's hardly necessary but you whisper anyway.

“Why are you here?”

You feel his arm wiggling behind your head and you raise your neck obediently to allow it to rest beneath you. As a reward, the same hand curls inward to comb through your hair lazily. He works his fingers across your nape and back up to your scalp finding just the right spot and drew small circles.

“Dunno, just came home and ended up here. Kind of like you but less dramatically.”

You snort, “Sorry, wasn’t expecting a party of two.”

He hums to himself, the pad of his thumb pressing inward in a way the manages to reset your whole mindframe and you nearly white out from the release.

There is more that could be said but the words escape you both as you settle for the night. If you weren't already going to regret this before, you were definitely were going to more now for an entirely different reason. But there was no chance of you altering the flow of what it was now.

You would just have to lay there and try not to think too hard about the natural slot of your body to Lance’s despite the finite space. It was much easier to count the staccato of his dull thumping heartbeat as it lulled you off to sleep.

_______

“Goddammit, Meeka. You’re going to wake up your mom.”

Too late.

Though in the defense of your mischievous loth-cat, the warm smell of breakfast permeating from the kitchen was just one waft away from rousing you. Stretching out your arms, you used the length of them to hook around the back of the couch to drag you up.

Questionably burnt but you recognize the scent of some of your favorites.You has not caught a glimpse of what he was wearing last night but Cal appears to be wearing some fresh clothes. The way the collar of his shirt is damp in the back hints towards a shower.

Part of you wonders if breakfast is a preemptive apology towards a cold shower you would be expecting later.

“Where do you have to go so early?”

If you startle him, he doesn't show. He slides a bit of food onto a plate, giving Meeka more than gracious portion before bringing the plate to you. You take it gratefully, balancing it on the spine of the couch.

Alert to your presence and no doubt ready to beg for more scraps, you watch unimpressed as the feline-like creature slinks against you. She gets what's expected anyway as you part with a strip of meat.

Leaning against the counter within view, Cal scolds you playfully. “And you said I spoil her.”

“You start it,” you retort without any bite.

You blame the queasiness on residue alcohol when he laughs warmly.

“Oh. “ You look up and Cal has a fork pointed at you. ‘’Your access card is on the table there.”

You’d already forgotten about that.

“Get anything good?” Safely, is weighted on your tongue but it seems like a waste to add it. Cal has always been mindful of his self, actions and footsteps in a way that makes you wonder how long he’s been watching his own back.

In the few years you’ve known him, things like the past rarely came up. No one really came to Bracca chasing a future. It was just a means to an end until you could find something better if you could manage to get out.

You hard already stopped trying when Cal stumbled into your life. But now it hardly seemed like a bad thing.

The clank of dishes brings you out of your thoughts. His back is to you now as he cleans his mess.

“It will be a nice personal pay raise, that’s for sure. Prauf sends his thanks too.”

Cal surprises you again when he comes to collect your empty plate. Rather than comment it on it, you lounge comfortably in the domesticity of it all.

“What’s your plan for the day?”

That was a good question.

Your body had an obvious vote towards rest but responsibilities made a greater bid on your time. A bit of shopping would unfortunately be necessary but your savings would have to survive. Between the recent raise and this upcoming project, you should survive to hit.

Replenish resources it would be then. At least if you start early enough it would allow you to relax for the remainder of the day.

Cal’s gaze follows as you stretch and eventually slink off the couch. Meeka happy to have the entire furniture to herself doesn’t waste a moment to snuggle into your lingering warmth.

“Down to the Bazaar first, then after that we’ll see.”

But first to see how much hot water you were going to be working with. Yawning loudly, you get to work with untangling the mess of your hair. Just before you can round the corner, Cal calls out to you.

“Want to make it a date?”

It’s an innocent play of words. One’s he’s used in the past without acting on it.

‘And you’re not even bumping uglies with him, what a shame.’

And just when you finally stopped overthinking it.

Peeking over your shoulder, you found Cal waiting expectantly yet so unaware of the winds of the storm picking up in your mind. Was it even worth it to wonder if similar thoughts ever troubled him?

-nah, it was just easier to smile.

“Yeah, it’s a date.”

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order writing #im on a roll

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derekmorganscrocs · 3 years

Text

Nancy Drew 2x9

Thoughts While Watching

Spoiler Alert!!

Aw no poor bess. AW PLATANCHOR ACE! Oh besties so cute. Poor bess oh no

Odette coming through with the pessimistic vibes about the day. Me. Always. “Nickolas” HAHAH Odette please. She’s so sassy. “No I’m not au-revoiring, you are.” Nick pls. GEORGES TATTOOS- George is gonna die omfg. Pls Nick is the only logical one here. OF COURSE IT WAS GONNA GET STOLEN YOU PUT IT IN YOUR DAMN LOCKER.

oh it’s probably Gil, not Grant. Sorry I thought you were a murderer grant. NOT THE PIE. why’d ace sound so sad about the pie. TELL ME STONER BOY DIDNT SNITCH.

AW ACE THE LIL FLOWER. “Aw Ace I’m so happy for you :) now I’m gonna die :)”. I think that Grant is an informant or something.

Sassy thief bad boy, I like. But I also don’t bc he’s tryna kill george. PROTECTIVE NICK! Detective Nick 😏. OH ACEMANDA, okay. Ohh

Okay wait I kinda feel bad for Gil. But mans is still going to end george. Oh Nick is v hot okay. Protective Nick. I love him. And Gil is kinda noble despite the whole killing george and theft thing ngl.

Carson coming thru. Of course, king Carson thanks babe. “Ok can GEORGE weigh in?” Pls george you’re funny.

BESS OMG WHAT R THOSE? TONGS? Carson and Bess moment funny. “Are you alright?” He sounds so fine with it but also so concerned. AW CARSON FATHERING BESS TOO PLS I LOVE HIM. The Drew Crew is now Carson’s Crew Of Baby Ducks.

Okay I mean at least Amanda didn’t spill. She’s so pretty too!!! Okay but I kinda like the bobseys ngl. Sorry guys. Gil is also very hot. I bet their mom either isn’t dead or is gonna show up as a ghost?? Okay but I feel bad for them no. Oh do I smell an Acemanda scavenger hunt?

NO NO NO NOT THE FANSON FIGHT. AW NO PLS I LOVE THEM. HES PROPOSING?! Oh no nvm. DO NOT BREAK UP. DO NOT. Fanson scavenger hunt?

Oh is that b dead? No nvm they’re still breathing. OH GIL JUST DIPPED. Patience impaired- MOOD. OH THAT WAS HOT “wasn’t this more fun than picking a lock” WOAH THERE BUCKO. YEAH BUT WOAH.

“Am I crying too loud” BESS IS A MOOD. Aww Carson is trying to distract her, please omg. Dad Carson is so cute. LAWYER BESS, LAWYER BESS.

Oh that’s creepy. NOT A BASEMENT- NANCY UR DUMB. OH THAT WAS SO FUCKING SCARY WHYD THIS PRINCE PHILLIP LOOKING MF JUMP LIKE THAT- NOT THE BASEMENT. fake wall? Yeah Gil break down that wall. OH GOD IS THAT HIS MOM?

HE STASHES THINGS BESIDE THE POLICE STATION- WHAT?! I love that. Acemanda could be cute though? Maybe? Idk I need to decide if I can share.

ODETTE IS BACK. Nick is so over it. WHY IS SHE SO SALTY ABT BEING STUCK IN GEORGE LMFAO. PLS “granite, limestone. Be done with it” ODETTE I CANT. She’s outta pocket. “Oh, well. Odette called me an idiot.” PLS NICK AND ODETTE ARE SO FUNNY.

Oh it’s just drawings, I thought it was a body. Poor Gil :( wait I actually feel bad. Ok I’m here for Gil but he’s pissing me off with this whole shroud thing. DONT KILL GEORGE, U HOE. Mommy’s ghost is boutta show up. NO WAIT WHAT IF SHE WAS KILLED BY A GHOST. she totally was. HAHA nancy got caught. I laugh but that was awkward.

KILLED BY GHOST, OBVIOUSLY. “We’ve heard great things about your restrooms.” PLS. Ace knowing nothing about art. NANCY ITS UNKOWN THEYRE OBVS NOT GONNA HAVE THE NAME.

Dad Carson aw. Pls besties Bess and Carson. AWWW THERE WASNT EVEN A HEARING. Carson should just adopt the entire Drew Crew. LAWYER BESS! LAWYER BESS! I WANT LAWYER BESS! Dad Carson please adopt me too. REASSURANCE. I LOVE.

“Technically they sold it to nick” “What?” PLS NICK/ACE IS SO FUNNY TO ME. besties are so funny. SHES NOT DEAD I TOLD YALL SHES NOT DEAD. IF GEORGE DIES I WILL RIOT.

GIL YOU NEED TO CHILL. SIR. PLEASE DO NOT DO IT. DONT DO IT. Oop Nancy is already there. SHES STILL ALIVE I TOLD YOU GUYS. please poor Gil. Aw, I feel so bad. She was definitely actually being haunted, but I digress. No please poor Amanda. “Why would she tell you but not me?” HIS VOICE GOT SO SMALL. TWIN MOMENT. okay but Amanda coming thru for the Drew Crew. WOOHOO GIL REDEMPTION!

“Cheer up Boss.” IF BESS DOESNT KEEP CALLING NICK BOSS ILL BE UPSET. “There’s still an old timey French lady living in my girlfriend.” AW OMG. ODETTE NO-

GEORGE NO. NONONO. oh thank god nick and Bess got there. Bess coming through with the lawyering. Nice. Bess crashing and burning here. “If you do this to george I wont have to imagine it. George deserves to live.” NICK- FANSON- CRYING. CRYING. OMFG HE LOVES HER. NICK I LOVE YOU. FANSON. HUG HUG HUG SWEET CUTE WOW. tag yourself, I’m bess crying in the background.

Nancy and Ace- “says the guy dating his twin sister” HE GAVE HER HIS HOODIE. I AM JEALOUS NGL. I’m very immersed in this, don’t Judge me. NOT THE BANANA CREAM PIE, NANCY PLS. oh they’re holding hands???

Acemanda on the boardwalk, the writers are stealing my ideas, smh. See: The Dumpster Fire I Call Life (linked below) OMG “I only need one” THAT WAS VERY CUTE AND I HATE IT. PLS STOP. JEALOUSY. CUE MR. BRIGHTSIDE- TPAIN SANS LE T- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE. ITS HIS BROTHER?! DO I SMELL FRANK HARDY?

Sister’s Thoughts:

“Why is Ace dressed like a fifth grader?” (It was the blue jacket with the green zipper that made her think that lmao)

“I’m just me, without any secrets,” Carson said.

“Except for your secret boyfriend.” My sister is the number one Caryan shipper.

“Aw Nick is the ghost possessing your girlfriend bullying you? Poor muffin.”

DUMPSTER FIRE FIC LINK:

#nancy drew #ace nancy drew #alex saxon #bess marvin #george fan #george fayne #nancy drew cw #ned nickerson #ace #nick nancy drew

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wittywallflower · 4 years

Text

Merry Pranksters - Miles wants to play a practical joke on Julian while the doctor is off the station and asks Garak, of all people, for help.

(3,6k words, Miles & Garak gen fic)

Garak was just about to close up for the day when Miles O'Brien appeared quite unexpectedly. He was an infrequent visitor in the shop. The chief tended to leave sartorial considerations to his wife when he could get away with it. Outside of his holosuite costumes, that is, and in those cases he usually discussed things thoroughly with the doctor before letting Julian make the actual arrangements with the tailor.

"Good evening, Chief O'Brien," Garak greeted him as pleasantly as any customer. "How are those trousers I mended working out for you?"

"Fine, fine. Good as new," Miles said, but nothing more.

"Was there something you need?”

"You, uh... you want to help me prank Julian?" Miles asked.

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

"Good evening, Chief O'Brien," Garak greeted him pleasantly. "How are those trousers I mended working out for you?"

"Fine, fine. Good as new," Miles said, but nothing more.

"Was there something you need? Don't tell me young Miss Molly had another growth spurt again so soon? That would be most inconvenient to Mrs. O'Brien. I believe she said they would be on Bajor this month? There aren't many clothing shops in the mountains of Ray'laht."

Miles was surprised, and not sure how he felt about the Cardassian talking so familiarly, and knowledgeably, about his family like that. But of course Garak would know a bit about it. Keiko liked the man, naturally would she would chat with him whenever Molly's pants were getting too short again and she had need of his services. Keiko was a nice, engaging woman and most people liked talking to her. Miles wouldn't have guessed Garak would care enough to listen, but then the man was or used to be a spy. He probably filed away any bit of intel, no matter how innocuous, just in case it came in handy later.

"Not that I am aware of yet," Miles answered, and huffed a laugh. "Won't be long though, the way she's growing."

Now that he thought of it, though, he could remember Julian mentioning that Cardassians were real big on family and loved children. Both apparently being big themes in the books Julian read and discussed with Garak. Julian, bless him, didn't try to get Miles to read any of it, limiting himself to the very broadest strokes of the stories when recounting his weekly lunches with the tailor. And Molly was adorable enough to win hearts wherever she went. It was possible that Garak not only knew but had a genuine friendly interest (as well as a professional one) in not just Molly's measurements but things like her favorite colors and what she liked to do for play. Some of the stain-resistant fabrics Garak had tracked down were a godsend, given how much the girl loved to paint.

Miles might not spend more time with Garak than he had to, but that didn't mean the man was entirely removed from his life. Even if Julian wasn't friends with the man, he would still be there on the station. In his tailor shop, discussing orchids with Keiko and making a mental note that young Miss Molly O'Brien detested knitted sweaters and broke out all over in itchy hives no matter how soft the wool.

Garak looked at the human and tried not to grin widely at the man's reticence, knowing the chief would only interpret it poorly. Garak simply enjoyed drawing information out of people otherwise reluctant to give it away. That's what had made him so good at procuring information for the Order. An honest zeal for the work.

"I stand at the ready when she does," Garak said with his blandest salesman smile. Which was really the only one the chief was likely to trust. "I was just about to close up for the night, if there's no assistance I can offer...."

He trailed off, eyes widened expectantly. Obviously the human had a reason to come here. O'Brien more than most was no fan of Cardassian company. With any other potential customers Garak would have set up an appointment for the following day. But if the chief was here for a fitting it wouldn't take long and Garak suspected O'Brien would be just as happy to have to over and done with quickly.

Miles didn't immediately answer and Garak began to turn away before the chief spoke up.

"You, uh... you want to help me prank Julian?" he asked.

"Pardon me?" Garak's tone and expression were a little too politely confused by half.

"You know, a practical joke."

O'Brien didn't believe for one second that the savvy ex-spy had lived among humans for so long without learning about pranks. In fact, he was damn sure a species as naturally devious as Cardassians was already intimately familiar with the concept, so he didn't elaborate.

"Julian's back from his conference tomorrow," he said instead, "Thought we could arrange a little 'surprise' for him."

"We? As in you and I?"

"Sure! Pranks are more fun with an accomplice," Miles said with a slight smile, and squinted speculatively at him. "And you seem like you might know a thing or two about being a co-conspirator."

Garak didn't insult the chief with his usual protestations that he was just a plain and simple tailor who couldn't possibly conspire against a soul, except perhaps his fractious supplier of Orellian brocade. In truth, the oft-repeated denial of his former career was getting a little tired. One should endeavor not to repeat the same lie too many times. And he was quite sure no one else found it as amusing as Julian did.

"Why me?" he asked. The two men did not have a habit of spending time in each other's company.

"Why not you?"

Miles tried not to get annoyed by the interrogation. He knew it was only annoying because he didn't want to explain himself. He had made the decision to try to be more friendly towards Garak, to reach out and include him in some shenanigans. It was his own fault if that gave the fellow a chance to get under his skin.

And it was a fair question after all, given the usually chilly civility between them.

"Dax and I have pranked Julian a dozen times already," Miles said. "Who else am I going to ask? Sisko? He's my commanding officer. Worf's barely got a sense of humor. And Odo is the station's head of security."

"You expect to engage in acts of dubious legality then?" Garak raised his brow ridges as if scandalized, but there was definitely a hint of mischief in his gaze.

"I expect Odo would find breaking into Julian's quarters a bit dubious, yes." Miles nodded.

Hmm, interesting. Garak was already intrigued by the novelty of the situation. The chief inviting Garak of all people into his fun. There was a 'why' to be discovered there and Garak did enjoy a mystery. But even if there were any reason to suspect the chief's motives might be nefarious, the chance to snoop around the doctor's quarters a bit would still be impossible to resist.

"Actually Quark is pretty good at schemes," Miles continued on through the list, "but there's no latinum in this for him so he wont bother himself. And the Major... well, she's had a hard life. A real rough time growing up. I'm not sure she would see the point in this sort of... silliness. And it occurs to me now that might be true for you too." Miles finished awkwardly. "I mean, I understand if you aren't interested."

Miles, with the natural intuition of a man of similar age who had seen his fair share of trouble, had guessed that Garak had been through a lot in his life. Even if he didn't have any idea what exactly. Garak didn't worry about anything Julian might have told Miles about the former spy's life simply because Garak hadn't told Julian much of anything that could be confirmed as truth. Station gossip surprisingly didn't have much to say about him beyond the painfully unimaginative: that he was still a spy, loyal to Cardassia, in service of the Obsidian Order, here to steal highly classified information and disrupt Federation efforts. Largely negative, but not so bad as to stop the gruff human engineer from sympathizing where he thought they might have common ground of being victims of trauma. Garak could almost feel a sort of... camaraderie with him for it.

"Why Chief, are you implying that I'm no fun?" Garak pivoted, a playful smile served with the joke. Easing their mutual discomfort at the near brush with emotional honesty, and signaling his acceptance of the scheme.

Miles barked an honest laugh at that and grinned back, relieved and, yes, a little amused by the Cardassian.

"I'll get what we need while you close up shop. Meet me at my quarters and we'll walk over to Julian's together."

When he received a nod of acquiescence, Miles left, cheerfully whistling on his way down the Promenade.

Garak was quite sure O'Brien knew he was just as capable of breaking into crew quarters as the engineer. But the former spy lurking around on a habitat level not his own would definitely draw some suspicion from station security. He did have a history of going where he wasn't authorized to be when the situation called for it and a door lock had never stopped that. In the chief's company his presence was less likely to be questioned, but Garak knew how to handle any potential run-ins with Odo regardless.

"Hey," O'Brien greeted him when Garak arrived at the chief's quarters with a parcel under his arm. "What's that?"

"My excuse for being on this level this time of night." Garak handed the package to Miles. "For Miss Molly. They'll be a little big yet, but that hardly matters with pajamas."

"What, did you sew these in the 10 minutes since I left you?" Miles asked with mild astonishment.

"I already had the pattern cut and fabric pinned," Garak said with a dismissive wave. "they were just waiting for the updated inseam measurement. It hardly took a moment to run my handheld seamer over it all."

Huh. Prepared for anything, this one, Miles thought as he accepted the parcel with a nod of thanks and set it down next to two Starfleet issue canvas duffle bags. One of which he hefted, the other he handed to Garak.

"Shall we?"

They made short work of the walk to the doctor's quarters and even shorter work of bypassing Julian's lock code to let themselves in.

Garak crossed to a table where he could set down the bag he held. Next to a pair of data padds that he made sure to 'accidentally' bump so as to activate their screens, which he then just happened to glance at long enough to make note of their contents. All of which would have gone unnoticed even if the room had been crowded with people. Garak was very discreet.

"What's the plan, Mister O'Brien?" He asked, opening the bag to pull out its contents. Which he stared at thoughtfully a moment before he gave up guessing and turned to ask an explanation. "With all these...pieces of paper?"

The bag was crammed full with short stacks of small slips of paper in various neon hues.

"They're called Post-Its, or sticky notes back home. Not exactly a novel concept, I've seen similar things around the galaxy. They mostly fell out of fashion on Earth in the 21st century when people started carrying electronic devices everywhere. You write notes on them: reminders, messages, shopping lists. They have adhesive on the back so you can stick them wherever you need and they come in bright colors so you can't miss seeing them."

"So we're going to... write notes to the doctor on these little squares?" Garak ask skeptically. That didn't seem terribly amusing but then, it would matter a great deal what exactly was written.

"No." Miles eyes suddenly gleamed with a light that bore ill tidings for Julian Bashir. "We are going to stick every single one of these little squares to every single surface we can reach until the whole room is covered with them." As Garak caught on and began to smile, Miles smiled back. "Though, now you mention it.... it could be funny to write stuff on 'em."

"Not all of them surely?" Garak asked.

O'Brien eyed his own bag crammed full of as many Post-Its as he could replicate. His hand cramped at just the idea of all that writing and he made a face.

"Because" Garak hastened to suggest, no more enamored with the thought of that task than the chief, "I really think it would be more amusing to write only on a select few of them. Say, give each word of a sentence its own square and scatter the message around the room. This would force him to examine every last one if he wants to be sure he's found all them."

"Garak, that's brilliant!" Miles grinned. Okay, maybe now he could see how Julian found Garak's devious mind enjoyable instead of just worrisome. "He won't be able to resist finding the clues so he cant just sweep everything into the recycler, he'll have to leave it all up and stare at it until he solves the puzzle."

Miles chortled, pulling out a cube of sticky notes and handing it to Garak.

"You think up a message, I'll try to find you a pen."

"No need, Chief." Garak pulled an elegant looking pen from a discreet pocket in his trousers.

"You just carry a fountain pen around with you?" Miles asked.

Plenty of people still enjoyed the tactile feeling of writing, Jake Sisko to name one, but who actually carried such an old-fashioned writing implement? Most everything on the station could be handled through a computer or padd. And even a standard ink stylus would work more reliably than a fussy fountain pen. They never leaked and stained your uniform, for one.

"A tailor is always prepared for anything," Garak said with a smirk, unknowingly echoing Miles' earlier thought.

Miles shook his head but he was still smiling as he turned away to start covering Julian's chair.

They were both accustomed to working with brisk efficiency so it didn't take as long as either expected to work their way around the room in opposite directions, covering everything in a kaleidoscope of neon paper. Still, it would have bordered on tedious if Miles hadn't broken the silence with a few stories of past pranks. Garak warmed up to the subject as he came to find the other man could be delightfully inventive in his mischief. The prank they were currently engaged in, while diverting, was not particularly impressive by Garak's estimation. The chief agreed.

"This is a pretty amateur effort, if I'm honest," Miles said over his shoulder as he lined the doorway to Julian's bedroom with bright blue squares. "But it was all spur of the moment. I didn't have the time to plan anything more elaborate before tomorrow. Besides, Keiko would have words for me if she came home to find i blew a bunch of latinum to play a joke on Julian. This only cost me replicator credits."

Garak could understand the pressure of a deadline, and a budget. Sometimes an uncomplicated plan was best when one was in a pinch.

"I think the doctor will be amused, regardless of the simplicity," he offered as reassurance to Miles. "And if he happens to return exhausted from his travels, it will be a kindness for him that it's not something a great deal more involved."

Garak was thinking of one of the stories Miles had just shared about locking a particularly annoying Enterprise crewmate in the holodeck for several hours to play out an especially embarrassing scenario.

Miles for his part was thinking how interesting it was for Garak to be so considerate of Julian's comfort like that. The doctor was known for his abundance (some might say excess) of energy; all bounce-and-go. He wasn't exactly the type you'd ever think of as being in need of a nap. Fretting that someone would have a proper chance to rest after a long trip... that spoke of a certain level of caring, in his experience. What level exactly Miles wasn't ready to hazard a guess at. He couldn't read the Cardassian in the best of times, let alone when they were both at work with their backs to each other.

Huh. Willingly turning his back on a Cardassian, a known operative of the Obsidian Order, alone and in close quarters with no witnesses. Miles could honestly say he didn't trust the man. If Quark had a pool going, O'Brien would lay a bet that Garak had at least 2 weapons hidden on his person at any time. But he somehow knew Garak's deceit did not extend to doing violence in this sort of innocuous situation.

Their final task was to cover the shelving along one wall, full of Bashir's books and belongings. They worked their way up from the floor, with some discussion as to how to wrap oddly-shaped knick-knacks, until they reached the top shelf. And its lumpy, rather disreputable looking occupant.

O'Brien eyed it dubiously.

"I don't think Julian will thank us for messing with Kukalaka. The adhesive on these things is pretty weak but still... that bear is half dust, held together by nostalgia and stubbornness. I don't want to try sticking anything to that threadbare fur."

Garak regarded the teddy bear, largely ignored on his previous visit (intrusion) in the doctor's quarters. The chief was obviously well familiar with the toy and what it meant to Julian. Miles didn't offer further information but Garak could read between the lines and tell it important. Very important indeed. Sudden inspiration suppressed the burning curiosity he knew wouldn't be satisfied in the moment anyway.

"I think we can include... Kukalaka, is it? in on the fun without harming him," Garak smiled at the chief.

While O'Brien finished the rest of the shelf, Garak grabbed a cube of notes and began layering them until he had a large multi-colored sheet. Very carefully (the chief was right, the adhesive barely stuck to anything) he began to fold his creation. Spare minutes later Kukalaka was the proud possessor of a very dapper, day-glo hat. All sticky edges safely folded and tucked away.

"Huh, I didn't know you could do origami." O'Brien remarked as he took in Garak's handiwork.

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the term."

"Oh, its an art form from Earth's Japanese culture. Folding paper to create shapes, usually animals and flowers and the like."

"And hats?"

"And hats." Miles chuckled. "I'm not too bad at it myself. Keiko taught me, thinking with all the fiddly engineering work I do my fingers would be good at it. She was right, like she usually is."

"I would imagine several society with advanced paper industries have developed similar arts," Garak said, always interesting in cross-comparing cultures. "I'll have to ask Mrs. O'Brien to tell me more about this origami sometime."

"You should," Miles' smile was... actually genuinely friendly. It was not a sight Garak was used to seeing. "She'd enjoy talking to you about it."

They both looked around for a long moment, feeling satisfaction at the visible results of their efforts. Nearly every surface was decked in bright colors. They didn't have enough supplies to completely cover the walls so they settled for framing the doorways and viewport, and covering all the wall art. An armchair was a violent neon purple, the low table before it a yellow that hurt Garak's eyes to look at directly. The replicator in the wall was ringed in concentric stripes and Julian's desk was covered in no less than 5 different eye-searing shades.

"I wish I could see his face when he walks in," Miles chortled, almost boyish in his glee.

"I can send you the feed from my hidden surveillance devices," Garak offered with a straight face and level tone.

Any other day that line, delivered with that sort of aplomb, would have left O'Brien with a suspicious, questioning glare. Such a thing was by no means beyond Garak's capabilities or outside his morals, they both knew that. But, despite himself, the unique experience of spending this time with the chief did not lend itself to Garal projecting his usual aura of danger cloaked in affability. The engineer looked him over and he could practically see Garak radiating with a energy of what he could only describe of as.... fun.

So Miles didn't bother to take the joke seriously. Even if it was true and Garak did have illegal surveillance equipment set up, the chief would never actually get confirmation or proof of it so it didn't bear worrying about right now. If, later, Miles decided it was a credible threat he would mention it to Julian.

"C'mon," Miles said, almost going as far as giving the man a good-natured slap on the back but definitely smart enough not to push his luck. "I'll buy us a round at Quark's in the name of a job well done."

"I don't think we've ever had a drink together, Chief," Garak couldn't help but point out, because it was in his nature to stir the pot, to provoke a reaction just to see what he would get.

Miles shrugged that off, knowing it was true enough. But the whole night had been unprecedented anyway, and he for one had worked up a thirst.

"You can relieve Quark of some of that overstock of kanar he's always complaining about taking up space in his store room. The more you drink, the less I have to listen to him whinge about it," the human said.

Garak accepted that, and the offer of a drink; oddly more comfortable for it to be a matter of selfishness on O'Brien's part rather than an honest gesture of kindness from an acquaintance. What sort of life left a man unable to trust motives that weren't entirely devious and self-serving? Miles shook the thought off as they headed for the Promenade and the bar. He was much too tired to go digging around in anyone's psyche right now, much less the enigma of a man beside him.

#yes this is silly but whatever #I just wanted them to be friends #their respective skillsets would make them super talented at hijinks #star trek deep space 9 #ds9 fic #star trek ds9 #miles o'brien #elim garak #deep space nine #ds9 #star trek fic

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antigenius · 4 years

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A/n: DJJDNFM SECRET SANTA FIC PART 1 NSFW PART WILL COME LATER SINCE TUMBLR WONT LET ME FO THE KEEP READING THING- @bnhabadass I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS KSKFMFMF

I'm Better

Bakugou X reader X Todoroki

Warnings: slight cussing, makeout sesh?

“Hey, how do I look?”

The scarlet halter dress flowed gently behind you, red lace enunciating your figure beautifully. A crimson satin bow tied around your waist to draw some curves, paired with gold ear cuffs and white flats with a bit of a wedge, just to keep your posture straight. Your auburn dyed hair was done up with a cute holly scrunchie, matching with the golden holly bracelet you had gotten while impulse buying online. The only formal winter wear you had was a leather jacket though, so you just had to hope it would go well with everything.

Toru’s jaw dropped at the sight of you, not that you could see though.

“Noraaaa!!!” She gushed. “You look so prettyyy!!!!”

You laugh, smiling at her. “Thanks, you too. Now let’s go before Mina uses all her credit to give me missed calls.”

It was a frosty Christmas eve. The snowflakes were floating down, leaving a white carpet in its wake. It had been a while since you all graduated and went your separate ways. The girls did meet up every once and a while, but with all of you being pro-heroes, that once in a while slowly became once in a blue moon. You never really kept up with lots of the boys, exceptions being Sero as you both worked in the same hero company. Basically, you had all grown distant in person. You all talked in a group-chat though, and through that, someone suggested that you’d all meet up for Christmas. Cue Momo sending her address, Sato saying he’d bake, cheers from all students and Mineta quietly rejoicing from the thought of getting kissed by the girls under the mistletoe.

And so here you were, standing outside Momo’s mansion of a home. The lights were leaving you awe-struck and unable to move due to your nostalgic whiplash.

Also due to the fact that it was literally three degrees celsius outside and your feet were probably frozen to the ground.

Once you did get inside though, your jaw hung at the subtle, yet tasteful decorations inside her house. Holly was hung literally everywhere, and you had to make sure you weren’t standing underneath one or that Mineta wasn’t close by if you wanted to survive.

The party was actually quite fun. You were standing idly, talking to Tsuyu until you were suddenly tugged by the invisible force that is Toru.

“Wh-“

“They’re playing seven minutes in heaven!! C’mon!!”

You were led towards a misshapen circle, consisting of the bakusquad, parts of the dekusquad, Jiro, Momo and Ojiro, who was just spectating. Mineta had, thankfully, passed out from drinking too much eggnog. The rest of the class were more content playing cards someplace else or chatting than to contend in such childish games. You shrugged. You had just been drinking and chatting the whole night, some games and laughing would be fun right?

Well you weren’t wrong…

“Step up, step up!” Mina called, pink hair bouncing in excitement. “All of you playing seven minutes in heaven, put in a little something something for the boys to pick!”

As soon as she said that, she produced a cute satin number from behind her back, twirling it around her finger with a wink. Your cheeks warmed almost immediately. Ooookay, maybe not what you had in mind with fun, but with alcohol in your system, decent decisions were thrown out the window. You followed the rest of the girls to the bathroom so you could all deposit your undergarments into the cloth bag. Mina grinned.

“Thank you!~”

She then shook the bag vigorously, mixing the content inside like she was making a martini for James Bond himself. Once she was done, she opened the bag and mixed it around manually, just to make sure.

“Alright boys, take your pick!”

Bmp bmp, bmp bmp, bmp bmp, bmp bmp.

Your heart thrashed against your ribcage as you watched the boys plunge sightlessly for a lucky dip.

“Right, shall we go clockwise?”

… Guess it wasn’t such a bright idea to sit at the edge.

“Nora!~ Which of these lucky boys has got yours?” Mina asked with a tipsy giggle. You got up, looking at the boys who had the panties in their hands. When you found yours, you sucked a quick breath between your teeth, eyes slowly locking with the vermillion ones that stared you down. You could feel everyone’s gaze on you as you pointed at Bakugou. Oohs and whistles erupted from both sides as Mina grabbed the both of you by the collar.

“Alright lovebirds, into the closet you go!”

Before you could even react, the doors were closed behind you, muffling the chatter from the group. The closet was dark, you could hardly see your own nose, let alone see Bakugou. You were glad though, it meant he wouldn’t see your beetroot excuse of a face.

“You gonna make a move or what, slowpoke?”

His grunt made you blink out of your daze. Your next words tumbled out of your mouth pretty quickly, without really thinking.

“You actually want do this properly?”

He was silent, then he laughed, a barking laugh that only made you fear for your life more.

“I’m no wuss. Plus, I made a bet, and I’m not willing to lose it.”

You were about to ask what bet this was, but he had pushed you against the closet wall with a thud.

“This’ll be your best kiss yet.” You could faintly see him smirk in the pitch-black darkness. “So savour it, stretchy.”

With that, he smashed his lips onto yours, hot, silky tongues curling together like a messy tango. His hands roamed your figure, leaving you to writhe and whine under his touch.

“Kat… Suki…” You pant as he moves from your lips down to your neck, biting harshly, then soothing it with a couple licks and open kisses. His treatment was intoxicating, it took you everything not to just crumble under his touch. You run your fingers through his hair and grip tightly as he snakes his hands down your inner thigh…

“Time’s up guys!! Come on out!”

The door opened, bright light blinding you. The marks on your neck were as clear as day. Bakugou walked calmly back to his spot. You, on the other hand, were flushed. Face stained red, you sat back down, hiding your face in your hands.

“Wow… He really went for it, huh Nora?” Toru said as she examined the marks curiously. The statement only made your face grow redder.

“Hey stretchy,"

You look up from your embarrassment to be hit in the face by your panties. If you could feel anymore humiliated now, you’d probably just stay red forever.

The rest of the pairs made you calm down and laugh again though, joining in with the oohs and aahs, watching everyone come out of the closet all scruffy and roughed up. Mina waved the bag around again, eyes twinkling.

“Who’s up for another round?”

You were about to get up and just spectate, but Toru raised your hand for you.

“Hey!-“

“Come on Nora!! One more round!” She pleaded. “You probably won’t get Bakugou again, so it won’t be that embarrassing, right?”

You hesitate, then sigh, back hitting the couch wearily. Toru cheers, hugging you tightly while Mina announces the next round.

“Alright!!” She shakes the bag again. “Boys, it’s your turn to put in something for us girls to pick!”

Cue the boys putting in their boxers for Mina to mix up in the bag. The girls carefully felt around whilst you just kinda took one out. It was a Calvin Klein branded boxer, in simple black and white. You wondered whose it was, but you figured it was probably Denki’s or something. It was… Big though. Lewd thoughts scattered through your mind as you shook your head. There was no need for those thoughts! Not like you were gonna get laid anyway. You watched the pairs go in and out, the closet seeing much better days than this.

“Shouto, you’re up!” Mina was pretty much a firecracker at this point, hyper and bounding like an energetic puppy.

The bi-coloured male got up, walking towards the girls to find his boxers. He stopped dead at your figure, glancing at the undergarment in your hand. He didn’t seem miffed about that though.

“Nora, huh? Luckyyy!!” Mina shoved you once again into the darkness. “Don’t have too much fun you two!”

The pitch-black darkness encased you again, but you were already accustomed to the feeling, having done it once. You bit your lip, guess you had to do something, right? You felt a hand beneath your chin, tilting it up.

“I hope you can forgive me Nora.” His deep voice sending tingles down your spine. “I’m not too experienced when it comes to romance.”

His lips press gently against yours, stealing all the breath in your lungs. His touch was soft, unlike Bakugou's. He let his hands wander down to your ass, squeezing it softly and making you gasp. His hands were cold, making you shiver into his touch while your whole body felt hot and flustered. His swollen lips then suckled your neck, making you hold onto him firmly for support.

“Shouto, fuck…”

Your core was pulsing dully, arousal pooling at your legs. Almost too soon, the light shone upon the both of you as Mina opened the doors.

“Seven minutes are up guys!”

… Inexperienced your ass.

You sat back down, warm and bothered. You were not going to be able to concentrate or talk properly for the rest of the night, that was sure. The rest of the party went pretty good nonetheless, laughter and cheer prominent. You were enjoying your umpeenteenth glass of eggnog by yourself to cool down when you were suddenly grabbed by the arm.

“Don’t ask. Just follow.”

You gulped the remaining eggnog in your mouth while following Bakugou to a room far away from the other patrons of the party. It made you feel hot again, but you were more terrified than anything.

He led you in, locking the door behind him. Shouto was sitting on the bed, watching the two of you from since you walked in. The two stare at you.

“So, who’s better?”

…

… What?

“I’m sorry, come again?” You say, wondering if maybe you were just so drunk you couldn’t hear right.

“Who’s better?”

“At what?”

“Don’t play dumb stretchy.”

You blink. “I have literally no idea what you guys are talking about.”

Shouto pressed his lips together to try and suppress his laughter at how angry Bakugou was getting. “Yaoyorozu told us you liked the both of us in high school, so we decided to bet on who you’d like better.”

It took you a moment, then you felt your ears burn with shame. “A-ah… That.”

“So,” Shouto got up from his position and stood in front of you. He had grown taller since your first year together, towering over your figure, “who did you like best?”

Your mouth was dry, unable to speak.

Bakugou tsked. “Obviously it’s me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Quit whining Half’n’half, just accept you lost.”

“When it’s so clear that I’ve won? Please.”

The two bickered as you softly mumble an answer. They stopped as soon as you spoke, looking at you.

“What did you say?”

“I… Can’t choose.” You screw your eyes shut. “I dunno, you were both good? A tie?”

The silence that hovered over the three of you was heavy. The air was so thick with tension that if you had a knife, you were certain that you could essentially cut out a piece of the air if you wanted to. After a few minutes passed, Shouto looked over to Bakugou, lips curling.

“Rematch?”

“It’s on.”

You gulp.

#secret santa #bnha #mha #todobaku x reader #Shouto #todoroki #bakugou katsuki

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elesianne · 4 years

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A Lord of the Rings fanfic, chapter one of two

Story summary: At Éowyn and Faramir's wedding Lothíriel daughter of Imrahil receives two proposals, and Éomer makes one.

Chapter length: ~2,100 words; Rating: General audiences

Some keywords: arranged marriage, proposal, getting to know each other, post-war of the ring

A/N: My starting point for this fic was a couple of questions: How in a world where there are legendary, great romantic love stories do those fare who marry for more prosaic reasons? How do they negotiate their marriages and accept them as what they are?

The first chapter is from Lothíriel's POV, the second from Éomer's. Second chapter will be posted in a few days.

AO3 link

Stars above the golden hall: Chapter I – Lothíriel

'Lady Lothíriel, a moment?'

Lothíriel turns, startled, from her conversation with some ladies of the court of Rohan to see lord Duinhir looking at her expectantly.

He is a lord of western Gondor like her father, holding the fiefdom of Morthond Vale along the river Morthond, west of Land of the Prince. Lothíriel knows him well as kind, prudent man.

'Of course, my lord'. She allows him to draw her aside to her quieter hallway, away from Faramir and Éowyn's marriage celebrations that are becoming ever more raucous as the hour has grown late and the newlyweds have departed already. Her guard stays close to her, as instructed by her father.

Duinhir appears more than a little flushed, like most men by now at this merry celebration in the way of the Rohirrim. He keeps a polite distance, though, and speaks decorously as is his wont.

'You look lovely tonight, Lothíriel, a fair southern flower here in the northern land. I hope that you shall forgive me my frankness: I wish to speak directly to you of a private matter.'

Alarmed, Lothíriel adjusts her expression to passivity as she listens on. She does not like where she believes Duinhir to be heading. He is a good man, a valued ally and neighbouring lord of her father's, but he is well over fifty years old. He had two grown sons that he lost in the war, the elder of whom Lothíriel might have married if he'd survived the fighting.

Lord Duinhir must have been young when he married, and he is still a strong man unbent by age though grief has carved many new lines on his face during the last few years. But he is too old, too much like a distant uncle that she has known all her life, for her to imagine him as her husband.

Lord Duinhir begins, 'As you know I lost both my sons on Pelennor fields.' She sees the shadow of grief for Derufin and Duilin on him still. 'I have no other heir that I would care to have succeed me as lord of Morthond Vale, and thus I am forced to look for a wife again.' He sighs. 'My dear Glaerdil passed away soon after Duilin's birth, and with two strong sons I didn't think I needed to marry again. Yet here I am, an old man soon, looking for a wife young enough to give me an heir. You are from a learned and noble-hearted line, Lothíriel, and deemed so yourself. Is there enough compassion in your heart to speak on my behalf to your father?

'Our blood in Morthond Vale does not run as pure as in Dol Amroth', Duinhir continues before Lothíriel could give him any answer, 'but my people are many and my land is fairer now than ever as it is at last free of the shadow of the dead men in the mountain above our valley. And I promise that I would treat you with more care and esteem than some young buck might.'

It is certainly a most unconventional proposal, and not a welcome one, and yet she finds it a difficult one to turn down.

In Duinhir's eyes is a rather heart-aching combination of hope and sorrow, all mixed with kindness. She does not doubt that he means his words.

'You are a most noble lord, Duinhir of Morthond Vale, though you disparage the heritage of your line.' She fights to find the right gentle words. 'I have known you to be so since I was a child, and I know that any lady who becomes your wife will be a fortunate woman. I do not think, however, that that honour is for me.'

There is only a very small flash of disappointment on Duinhir's face: he appears not to have had much hope. He seems tired all of a sudden, though, his features more shadowed and lined.

He says, 'Thank you for your graciousness in my rejection, my lady. I need not speak to your father, then.' Quite unnecessarily, he bows his head to her. 'It is probably for the best, anyway, for me to seek as bride someone whom I haven't known since she was the height of my knee.'

Lothíriel nods, still shaken. 'Perhaps a lady of Rohan? With this country's grievous losses, there are many who sadly lost their husband or betrothed, and more who will have a difficult time finding a man to marry because their noblemen's ranks were so depleted as the price of their heroic deeds in the war.'

Duinhir nods at her in turn, and appears to sink in thought. 'I have thought of it myself. Indeed, perhaps some young enough widow who still has a wanting or need for a husband – preferably someone who has had a babe or two already, it would be the safest option, you know, knowing that she can –' But here he appears to remember who she is talking to and quickly apologises. 'Forgive me, lady Lothíriel. The hour is late, and I am both maudlin and inebriated, forgetting how to talk to the Prince's daughter! I beg your pardon, and bid you good night.'

Before she can wish him a good rest as well, he returns to the feasting hall.

Lothíriel takes a deep breath and tells her guard, who appears to be having difficulty keeping a straight face, that she will go outside to get some fresh air. He makes way for her in the throng of people, most of them flushed and merry and loud at the late hour, and Lothíriel is grateful for her father's insistence on a guard for her even in the house of an ally and friend.

Outside Meduseld the night is cool though the day that has passed was Midyears' day. Lothíriel enjoys the crisp freshness of the air that greets her as she walks away from the many torches and braziers in front of the Hall, down the stairs, and to the edge of the green terrace where Meduseld is situated. There is no one there but some of the king's guards, and she finds a spot some way away from them, and raises her gaze to the skies.

Despite the light and smoke from Edoras, she can see all the stars on the sky on this clear, cloudless night. The stars are as lovely above the valley where Rohan's royal city lies as is in daylight the greenness of the valley and the snow-capped, lonely peak that the Rohirrim call Starkhorn rising at the end of it, behind Edoras.

Lothíriel has enjoyed the wedding celebration of Faramir and Éowyn and she could not be happier for her favourite cousin and for Rohan's white lady who suffered much grief before finding a new happiness. But she has been surrounded by people and noise all day, and in a lesser degree for the whole week that her family has been here in Edoras.

It is good to breathe deep and look at the stars, and think. Duinhir's proposal and turning it down has left her sentimental too. She feels sorry for the lord of Morthond Vale, and for all like him who have to seek a new spouse though they would rather grieve with ample time the ones they lost in the war. She doesn't like it that Duinhir debased himself so many times during his proposal, for he is a noble man who has found himself in an unenviable position of having to find a wife half his age.

She had to turn him down, though. To have agreed to speak to her father on his behalf would have, if Imrahil had given her leave to marry Duinhir, not likely have resulted in anyone's happiness. And more likely her father would have turned Duinhir down on Lothíriel's behalf, injuring their good relations.

Imrahil has promised her that he will not make her wed a man twice her age or otherwise unsuitable, and Lothíriel trusts in his promise and his judgement.

There is a prospective match that she does find agreeable, based on all that she knows this far, one which Imrahil has been quietly making for her ever since the end of the War – or quite possibly before it, if she knows his forethought right. That match is only eight years older than her and a strong handsome man, though different from the strong handsome men she is accustomed to being around.

Lothíriel drops her gaze from the stars to Meduseld and the city around it. A city of wooden houses, surrounded by a wooden wall, with a hall of gilt and wood and golden thatches. There is no marble citadel here, no tall towers rising high above the sea; Edoras could not be more different from her home.

Yet she likes it, how the Hall rises proud and golden at the head of the valley, and the wooden city withstands the wind from the plains and the snow from the mountains, and before the city on the mounds of kings always blooms fair simbelmynë, evermind. Like a carpet of white lace on green grass, it blossoms heedless of cold seasons, she has been told.

The endurance of the city seems to her a perfect metaphor for the people of this country.

It is her second time here. Her father called Lothíriel and her mother to Minas Tirith when the shadow in the east had been vanquished, and despite Idhrenes' dislike of swift travel they made it up the river in time for King Elessar's coronation and after it came with King Théoden's funeral escort to Edoras together with many lords and knights of Rohan and Gondor.

Imrahil and his family stayed in Edoras for a time. Lothíriel had during that first stay come to know Éowyn, Faramir's bride-to-be, and the women of the court. But though her father and brothers deepened the friendship which they had forged with Éomer during the war, Lothíriel talked little with him then and got her impression of the kind of man he is from the way other people talk about him. Her father speaks of the young king highly and, Lothíriel has thought since the beginning, to her in particular.

She got to know Éomer a little better when he visited Dol Amroth the next spring. He was a gracious guest, speaking fairly of the city and its sights and appreciating the preparations that Lothíriel's mother had made for his visit. He hadn't seemed to mind that several times her parents contrived or outright encouraged him to be her escort to this place or that, or had them sit next to each other for a meal.

At the end of the visit Lothíriel's parents came to her and asked whether she would be amenable to their beginning negotiations for a marriage with the king of Rohan, and she told them that she was.

Nothing was settled yet, then, though Éomer had indicated his willingness too and it appeared to everyone who knew of it a good match and a happy further strengthening of the union between Gondor and Rohan.

Lothíriel wishes her mother were here in Rohan for when the matter will be discussed again, but Idhrenes had taken ill shortly before the departure and stayed home.

Lothíriel sinks deep enough into thought of possible futures that she doesn't notice the cool air becoming uncomfortably so as minutes pass, or, when many have passed, the arrival of another person close to her.

Her guard's clearing of his throat startles her to awareness of a tall presence next to her, one whom she has no difficulty recognising but is more than surprised to see.

'Your majesty!' She curtsies hurriedly. 'Forgive me, I was lost in thought.'

King Éomer waves a dismissive hand. 'I did not announce myself. Besides, the children of Imrahil in their silver clothes are easy to recognise. In my dark cloak I must be more difficult to.'

A dark green cloak he wears, yes, but it is gold-trimmed and under it he wears bright mail, and a crown on his head whose gold gleams warm in the low light. He could not be mistaken for any other.

His light hair is a little mussed, no longer neatly braided down his back but some of it framing his face, and he too appears a little affected by the mead that has been flowing so freely. It is a version of him she hasn't seen before, and she thinks she likes it no less than all the other versions she has seen.

A/N: This conversation continues in the next chapter.

This is my first Lord of the Rings fic for about 15 years. Thank you for reading, and please let me know how you liked it.

#decided to post this right away #as always if you reblog or comment you will have my undying loyalty lol #tolkien fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings #éomer #lothíriel #my fics #stars above the golden hall #eothiriel #éothíriel #elesianne's fics

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