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sepublic · 4 years

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Season 2 Teaser for The Owl House?

So for those of you who haven’t caught up; A few days ago, Dana released an exclusive photo of herself on Instagram, with a cryptically-blurred reflection in her window that was all too conveniently-placed;

Now, this COULD just be some game she’s playing, but like; Reverse-image searches have yielded nothing, and it hurts no one to speculate! Thanks to @50shades-of-blue, who had the common sense to remember to flip the reflection, we have something more akin to THIS;

This image bears a decent resemblance to a sequence from the show’s intro, in terms of structuring; We have characters divided and separated by golden bars. This points to Dana’s image being a shot from a new intro for Season 2, either one for an entire season, or a single episode. I say this, because looking at the subject matter… On the very left, we see something vaguely blue, and similar in resemblance to a bile sac;

This could actually be the Titan’s heart, image below for reference;

Not only that, but as Blue’s helpful tracing points out, the other two figures in the ‘slots’ bear a resemblance to Owl Mask and Kikimora, the latter having the fingers of her hand-hair splayed out, and the former appearing to take off their mask.

What little we see of Owl Mask bears a decent-enough resemblance to the Season 2 character that Dana teased, further cementing a connection between the two. Not only that, but we get a glimpse of five (possibly six) colorful symbols above the three character slots, each likely pertaining to the Coven Heads, as shown by Blue’s earlier tracing.

In particular, you can tell the blue symbol has the same distinctive, U-shaped horns of the Healing Head; And the green symbol bears enough resemblance to the Plant Head, with their dark-green bangs covering most of their lighter-green face. Combined with symbols that seem similar to the Construction, Beastkeeping, and Oracle Heads, the exact layout we’ve seen so far coincidentally seems to match the banner layout seen in The First Day;

You have from left to right; The Construction, Plant, Beastkeeping, Bard, and Healing Heads! Now, if you look to the very right of the image, there also seems to be a sixth symbol, a bit lower than the others, with what appears to be a purple coloration; This is likely the Oracle Head, especially since it matches with the aforementioned placement of the banners. Now, exact positioning beside, we also know that there are three more symbols obscured, the ones for the Abominations, Potions, and Illusion Heads. If we go by the pattern established by the rest of the image, with the Heads at either end of the display being placed lower than the rest, and the rest being shown in an up-down pattern… Then it seems we more or less have the vast majority of this mysterious screenshot, with some of it blacked out!

As others such as @preciseprose have suggested, there’s a good chance that this is a screen transition, hence why only a specific corner and portion is obscured; Because if this shot parallels the one seen in the Season 1 intro with Willow, Gus, and Amity, which burns away in the middle to reveal King… Then it makes sense that a similar transition would happen with this show, perhaps obscuring from the outside-in this time as a contrast.

Now, what’s interesting is that this style of shot, once reserved for protagonists and friends/peers of Luz, is now being designated towards lesser-known antagonists associated with the Emperor’s Coven. While this could just be how the Season 2 intro works, with Gus, Willow, and Amity appearing later or earlier, likely closer to Luz; It does make me and others wonder if we’ll get a dedicated intro to the Emperor’s Coven with Belos, front-and-center! I’ve talked at enormous length in the past of Luz and Belos being parallels… And it’d match other Disney TVA shows, such as Gravity Falls, Ducktales, or Amphibia, who had villainous takeovers for their shows’ intros as well!

This could of course allude to an episode with a heavy focus on the members of the Coven System, specifically Belos and his aides Owl Mask and Kikimora, as well as the Head witches of the Covens he appointed and presumably trusts. This is of course all fascinating and has me even MORE intrigued, but also; The placement of the Titan’s heart alongside Owl Mask and Kikimora suggests its treatment as its own character as well… Which, if it’s a giant heart, it presumably represents and operates as a stand-in for the Titan, perhaps the conduit with which Belos even speaks to it (and vice-versa?) through! AKA the Heart represents the Titan, it IS the Titan, which then suggests that this Emperor’s Coven triumvirate consists of the Titan, Owl Mask, and Kikimora…

But that’s not the only consideration! I’ve talked before about character parallels in this show… We have Luz and Amity, Eda and Lilith, Owlbert and Lilith’s palisman. I’ve speculated on King and Kikimora being parallels, and even Hooty and Belos… But that always made me wonder; What about Willow and Gus? Do THEY have parallels, associated with the Coven System and its Emperor? And for a while I entertained Warden Wrath and Owl Mask, but lo and behold; I may be right, at least about one of those two, and also in general about parallels! Because if we compare the placements… We have the Titan and Willow, Owl Mask and Gus, and Amity and Kikimora!

Owl Mask being a parallel to Gus is interesting, because they’re operating as a spy for Belos; And presumably, Illusionists would be great at stealth. I wouldn’t be surprised if Owl Mask used Illusions, albeit to disguise and mask their own presence; A parallel and contrast to Gus, who uses Illusions to create and draw attention and spectacle! Not only that, but it makes me wonder if Owl Mask is also a child prodigy like Gus, if they have issues with being overlooked, and as a contrast to Gus, they’ve embraced this instead of fighting against it…? And Owl Mask is sent to spy on Luz the human, perhaps a parallel to Gus’ own fascination with humans…?

Then we’ve got Willow and the Titan’s heart. Now, this one interests me… And it makes me think about how Willow is presented with a raw, innate strength, and an uncanny ability to cast magic without summoning a circle nor glyph. I’ve talked before about Willow and Belos having parallels, as they both have distinct shots with their eyes glow green; Could this parallel stem more from a connection to the Titan, than anything else? Then as @aguigenae suggested, instead of Luz (or JUST Luz) being able to speak to the Titan… What if it was Willow? It’d re-contextualize her ability to draw onto raw, magical potential through pure emotions… And similarly, a lot of her spells draw power from the Isles itself in the form of plants, and we know the Isles as synonymous with the Titan!

With how Belos seems to draw power and spells from the Isles, albeit with fleshy and stone formations… Perhaps Willow serves as a parallel and foil, creating constructs from the Isles as well, but in the form of plantlife! Her being able to speak to plants might provide a medium to contact the Isles they’re rooted in… And as I said before, Willow has shown an unusual ability with magic not unlike how Belos can cast magic, but through his unique form of spheres and orbs. If Willow is associated with the Titan’s heart, perhaps she could speak to it in a way that Belos can’t- Perhaps they BOTH can speak, and this will lead to a conflict with Belos, who seeks to preserve this ‘privilege’? Keep in mind that it’s Willow who openly defies Belos the most by rallying an entire crowd against him- If she’s the face of the revolution, her being able to speak to the Titan could create further parallels and odds between the two!

Not only that, but… Talking again of Willow and the Titan’s Heart, if the two are parallels; What does this say about the Titan itself? Perhaps like Willow, it’s a being with raw magical power, easily terrifying, and with a connection to nature (as it IS nature in its case). If these characters are dark parallels, then what if the Titan was like Inner Willow, wrathful and fully exploring its dangerous power, having felt harmed and hurt, twisted…

But what if it was also a Willow who never learned to stand up for herself? A powerful, dangerous witch… But with no true self-esteem, no believe in themselves? What if the Titan was like a Dark Willow, and this self-doubt was what allowed Belos to manipulate it? I’ve speculated before that perhaps Belos has managed to sway and influence the Titan into seeing his way as the right way to handle magic… If it was a dark parallel to Willow, perhaps the Titan is hopeless, thinking there’s nothing it can do to oppose Belos, feeling like it’s smarter than him, as a toxic friend with control; Think Anne and Sasha from Amphibia!

We might even get a scene paralleling Willow and Amity’s first appearance, with how Amity condescendingly mocks Willow, albeit with potential, if misguided, good intentions. Perhaps Belos is like this- He’s cruel and manipulative of the Titan, but he also genuinely believes in what he’s doing, that this IS the best for the Isles, and that this is how the Titan should have its magic be utilized and taught. But, in absence of Amity, we see Willow’s true feelings of resentment and anger that have bottled up… So what if the Titan was like that with Belos, except dialed up? What if the Titan hates Belos or wants to see him defeated, but isn’t entirely sure if he’s wrong, either…

So to get into blind speculation, what if- What if the Titan has tried to create a new champion? By going behind Belos’ back and communicating with a new, younger witch, perhaps one that reminds it of Belos before he turned corrupt… What if the Titan is contacting Luz and/or Willow? Hoping to find someone else who will actually speak for them, not just talk over as Belos possibly is doing? Maybe the Titan is trying to foster a new witch, an alternative champion to depose Belos or take over; Or have Belos and Luz/Willow compete, to prove to the Titan who has the best philosophy to magic through their own respective victories?

And if Belos were to find out… Well, I imagine he might do something drastic to the Titan. He has control and access to its heart- Could he torture it in retaliation, perhaps causing quakes across the Isles that echo the Titan’s throes of agony? Would Belos do something drastic to prevent the Titan from helping Luz/Willow, adversely affecting the Boiling Isles in the process? Similarly, if Belos is a toxic friend to the Titan, perhaps there’s symbolism to his castle built around the Titan’s heart… Kudos to @fermented-writers-block for some of these ideas;

Perhaps it could be interpreted as Belos having an iron grip over its heart, or the Titan building up walls around its heart –thanks to Belos’ encouragement- and letting in only Belos…? Alas, Belos is the one who convinces the Titan to hide itself away and let only him in, because only HE cares, only he knows best… And yet, he’s the one who helped build those walls that the Titan hides within. Ultimately, his castle MUST fall- Especially if it’s being used to exploit and manipulate the Titan’s heart in other, literal ways as well…

Finally, let’s talk Amity and Kikimora sharing placements. There is of course the obvious implication of romantic feelings, but also… What if, instead, there was this idea of Belos being like Luz to Amity, for Kiki? For Amity, Luz was an outsider who came out of nowhere and changed her life for the better, helped her stand up for herself- What if Belos was that to Kikimora? What if he was an outsider, a human even (before he changed and decayed) that changed Kikimora’s life forever after he appeared from nowhere… The two starting to a prickly start, before truly caring for each other? As Belos encouraged Kikimora to stand up for herself, eventually culminating in her own life improving(?) as Kiki is now second only to him, the Emperor of the Boiling Isles! It might explain why he seems to trust her so much- The two genuinely care for each other and Kikimora feels like she owes everything to him…

And, to incorporate my own analysis/speculation of Amity; Perhaps Kikimora has placed all of her sense of self-worth into Belos, about how she can help him, because only HE ever made her feel like something! What if as a toxic parallel to Luz and Amity, Kikimora has lowkey become dependent upon Belos- Who, while kind to Kikimora… Kiki still has placed all of her self-esteem not in herself, but in Belos’ approval of her. And while Belos DOES approve and provide support, it’s still dangerously dependent and shows that Kikimora can’t really stand for herself, that she needs someone else as a litmus test to judge her worth as a person.

Finally, we know Amity is the least talented compared to Willow and Gus; Given how we have the literal Titan and Owl Mask, compared to Kikimora, who caves into Luz’s threats… It’s possible Kikimora is the least powerful amongst the Titan and Owl Mask, but has made up for it with raw determination and skill? After all, she presumably cast the magical cage that all of Luz’s efforts wouldn’t have been able to defeat. Perhaps like Amity, Kikimora had to work hard to prove herself, to earn respect; And like Amity in Episode 3, Kikimora feels a desperate need to hold onto that sense of accomplishment and superiority, and can and WILL retaliate viciously when it’s threatened. To Kikimora, she’s dedicated everything into making up for her own shortcomings, just like Amity- So she despises cheaters, or at least people who undermine that work.

(I know what some may be thinking- Isn’t Kikimora a King parallel? Well, these parallels work in multiple ways… Amity parallels Luz, but then so too does Belos, presumably. I wouldn’t be surprised if Amity was both a parallel to Luz AND Kikimora, then.)

And, that’s my general thoughts, analysis, and speculation, all based from this reflection we’ve seen! It’s possible Dana is trolling us, by accident or otherwise, with a videogame screenshot… But hey- It doesn’t hurt anyone if we’re wrong, I say! It’s all in good fun… Besides, if it WAS a teaser from Season 2, and we didn’t give our shot, then we’d all feel like idiots! We may as well take our chance and analyze, because- Just in case…!

#the owl house #the owl house luz #Luz noceda #the owl house belos #emperor belos #the owl house willow #willow park #the owl house gus #augustus porter #the owl house amity #amity blight #the owl house kikimora #the owl house season 2 #speculation #theory #analysis #Dana terrace

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

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School Prize Night

(A Good night, Mr Cavill Sequel)

Part 1 - Through my eyes

07/07/2021

Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,531

Warnings: rpf, body issues, self-loathing, angst, sexual innuendos, comforting, fluff, Henry being the sweetest boyfriend a (plus-size) girl could ask for

Summary: It's School Prize Night at Miss Y/L/N and Mr Cavill's school. But as she is getting ready for the event, she finds it impossible to accept her reflection in the mirror.

A/N: As I already feared, this dream of a man simply refuses to leave my thoughts. And so I used the first day of the summer holidays to come up with a four part sequel to Good night, Mr Cavill. So here is the first part. I'm afraid it has become a little angsty, but I promise to make it up to you with a lot of teasing and passion in the other parts.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

For a long time she had been wondering what to say whenever someone asked her what her special talent was. Now she knew, pinching her paunch harshly between her fingers until it formed a prominent, round bulge. Self-loathing. That’s what she was good at. A profession she had perfected over the last years.

And as if to prove her point, half the contents of her wardrobe lay scattered around her feet, mocking her with all their colourful beauty that magically turned into hideous abominations as soon as they covered her form. If she didn’t know any better, she would let herself believe that she was somehow cursed—a gorgeous princess trapped inside the body of a manatee. But sadly it wasn’t that simple and instead of an evil witch she could only blame herself for the reflection she saw in the mirror.

Giving herself another once over, she actually considered covering her eyes to spare herself the view, when thankfully her eyes seemed to have mercy on her tortured soul and salty tears began to blur her vision. Too late, as she noticed. The gears of self-hate had already started to turn and once they were in motion, nothing could stop them, pulling her deeper and deeper into the darkness.

She hardly realised that her whole body was trembling by now, her knees finally giving out underneath the weight of the world that pressed down upon her shoulders, making her sink onto the plush carpet with a heartbroken sob while the world around her fell away.

“Darling?” The familiar voice came from somewhere down the hallway, but she couldn’t hear it in the state she was in. “Do you have any idea how to tie a decent Windsor knot? I’ve watched this stupid video about a million times by now and I just can’t seem to—“

His heart almost stopped beating as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the pitiful picture of misery that used to be his girlfriend, crumbled into a tight package in front of the mirror.

“Y/N?” But instead of an answer there just came another soul shaking sob from the huddled creature and he didn’t waste another second to get over to her. “Whatever is the matter, love?” His voice was warm and soothing as he squatted down beside her, but it was still not enough to break through to her. Desperate to find a clue as to what might have caused her distress, he took in the setting and when his eyes finally landed on the pile of clothes that surrounded her devastated form, he suddenly understood.

With a sigh he sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug before he pulled her onto his lap. “Sh, darling. Don’t cry,” he cooed, rocking her in his arms like a child. Slowly his hand drifted across her hair, as if his touch could just stroke her pain away, his lips tenderly pressing down on the crown of her head, before his cheek finally came to rest there.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do,” she croaked hoarsely, and the only thing that pained him more than the agony in her voice were her next words, “considering that you will leave me someday soon.”

He knew that it was only her insecurity speaking and yet he felt a bit slighted that she still couldn’t fully believe his feelings for her were nothing but true.

“Now why would I do that?” he muttered into her hair as calmly as he could, “I love you, Y/N, and as long as you don’t want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

Something about his words must have finally gotten through to her as he could feel the sobs die away bit by bit and he was almost positive that he would find a small smile on her face when she wriggled out of his embrace, but to his surprise he was met with a pair of defiant eyes.

“How can you be so sure of that? It’s only been three months, Hen. That’s probably just the hormones talking, and once they’re back to their normal levels, you’ll finally see the real me. And I can’t blame you if you want to run as soon as you realise what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Hey!” he barked, his hands clutching her face in a firm grip to make her look at him. “You know how much I hate when you talk about yourself like that.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s easier to love yourself when one looks like you,” she spat and he regretted his harsh words instantly as he saw the tears that were threatening to fall again.

“Oh, no, darling. No, no, no. This is not about me and my body image, it’s about you.” He sighed again, his jaw clenching dangerously and he needed to close his eyes for a second to force his anger back down to its source. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see yourself the way I do, maybe not, but that doesn’t give you the right to question the way I feel for you. You see, just because it’s hard for you to love yourself, doesn’t mean it’s hard for me as well.”

And there they were, the tears that had been threatening to fall again, streaming down her cheeks freely now. “I’m so sorry, Hen. I should never have—“

“You bloody well shouldn’t have,” he said sternly, but then his eyes softened like they always did whenever he looked at her and he pulled her closer to press his lips to her forehead in a symbol of forgiveness.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her head fell down onto his shoulder and she nuzzled his warm skin affectionately. “Ugh, I’m such a mess,” she mumbled, and he could feel her lips move against his skin.

“No, you’re not, darling. Like so many, you’ve been traumatised by an ideal created by the media and greedy companies, telling you to constantly chase after their standard of beauty instead of focusing on those things that truly matter.”

For a moment, a deafening silence settled between them, but he knew she simply needed a while to think about his words. And just when he could feel the uneasiness of doubt crawl from the pit of his stomach, she sighed, a deep sound of realisation that soothed his worry.

“I guess you’re right,” her muffled voice came to his ears from the crook of his neck. “You always are. Perfect idiot.”

Her little remark coaxed an amused chuckle from his chest and he could feel her body tremble in his arms from the vibration. But when his face fell upon their reflection in the mirror, the short moment of lightness suddenly died away and he wished with all his heart that just once he could give her his eyes before he would lift her around her body so she could feel what he felt whenever he looked at her. Grasp the reason why he loved her so much and why he never wanted to look at anyone else for the rest of his days. If only—

Silently he signalled it was time for them to get up and as soon as he stood, he offered her his hand and pulled her up against his chest. Colliding softly with his firm pecs, she could feel his lips brush against her ear, his deep voice causing a shiver to run across her skin.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his hands drifting over the small of her back and down to her full cheeks, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Of course I do.”

“Then close your eyes.”

And so she did, without hesitation. Slowly she could feel his hands glide up her body again, stopping at her waist when he ordered, “Now turn around.”

His strong hands guided her as she carefully obeyed his wish again and she could feel his hot palms come to rest on her stomach, her back securely leant against his chest.

“Hold out your hands, sweetheart, palms facing upwards,” he demanded, and she wasn’t sure what exactly caused the heat to pulse through her nether regions, his hot breath that fanned across her shoulder, the authority in his voice, or the enticing combination of both. She had no idea what he was up to, but she couldn’t help the slight pang she felt when his hands suddenly left her body. He must have picked up on the little twitch of her lips before she could stop herself from pouting, judging from the triumphant chuckle that made his chest quake. Cocksure bastard.

But then she could feel his touch again, his fingers gently gliding along her forearm until his hands pushed underneath hers.

“Let me show you something, darling.” And as if the dark timbre of his voice would actually leave her a choice but to let him take over from here, his lips ghosted across the sensitive spot of her neck to ensure her compliance.

She was still trying to concentrate again when she felt something squishy and warm underneath her fingertips and it actually took her a second to realise that he had brought their joined hands to her belly. On reflex, she tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened to hold her back.

“No,” he growled, his lips close to her ear again. “I want you to feel yourself, to try and see yourself through my eyes. Just a few minutes, that’s all I ask.” But still he didn’t proceed until he could feel her resistance melt away. “Can you feel how soft your belly is? So velvety smooth, it’s practically inviting you to touch it, to caress it, to relish in its malleability. Mmmh, so wonderfully soft,” he moaned his appreciation, making her insides tingle pleasantly.

��And here, can you feel this?” He guided her hands towards her hips, pressing her fingertips into the supple flesh. Slowly moving back and forth, she could make out the small ripples he had probably wanted her to notice. “I know you hate your stretch marks, but whoever decided to call them that probably had no idea what they truly are.” He made a short pause to emphasise his next words. “They’re tiger stripes. And you earned them all on your way to becoming the strong tigress you are. So be proud of them.”

She had wanted to protest when his lips pressed lovingly to her temple, a gesture that always made her soft for him, and her will to speak up against his sugarcoating of her flaws fizzled out.

“Mmmmmh,” he sighed again, as he lead her hands to her rear, “now let’s come to one of my favourites.” Slowly he made her hands move in circles across her behind, as if this was necessary to help her visualise the incredible magnitude of her butt. And to top it all off, the absence of her visual sense seemed to further enhance the depths of the dips and dents that coated its surface.

“It’s not only the luxurious lushness of your behind that compels me to run my hands along it as often as I can and squeeze it tightly. No.” He growled lowly again, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he made her fingers dig into her cheeks and this time she found it impossible to hold back a moan. “I wish you could see the way it jiggles and quivers with every thrust of my hips when I take you from behind. It’s magnificent.”

“Oh God, Henry,” she mewled when she could feel the treacherous wetness pool between her legs, soaking her panties in an instant. She wanted to pull away again, but this time to spin around and press her body against his while her lips devoured his filthy mouth before it could drive her completely insane with need. And yet again, Henry was stronger, securing her in her current position for just a little longer.

“I see you’re starting to get the point of this whole exercise. Good for you, darling.”

“Henry, please,” his teasing made her whine, as it always did, and she almost missed how he hooked her fingers underneath the straps of her bra to peel away the obstructive lace.

“Sh, don’t fuss. This is the best part, I promise.”

And with that he closed her hands around her voluptuous breasts, massaging them tenderly. “Did I promise too much? This really is the good stuff, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever held anything as fluffy as these two delights in my hands. I still remember the way they moved to the rhythm of our lovemaking that first night. So enchanting. But you know what is even better?” he asked, his head dipping down to nuzzle her neck yearningly. “To rest my head upon your chest after we both came undone. I love to be embedded by this softness while I can listen to your heartbeat. There is something so utterly bewitching about witnessing how it slowly calms down after I made you touch the sky.”

Without thinking twice her eyes flew open, just in time to catch a glimpse of all the affection his heart held for her as it reflected so openly in his blue eyes.

“Oh Hen!” And finally he didn’t hold her back when she tried to spin around, cupping his stubbly cheeks gently in her hands. “I love you so much.”

And without giving him the chance to answer, her lips found his, moving with them until she didn’t know anymore where she ended and he began. Her head still spinning slightly, she broke away, their heavy pants the only noise that filled the silence for a while.

“And I love you.” A beaming smile curled his lips, passing on to hers while it slowly set her on fire. “Even the parts you despise. Maybe I love them the most. And I will not stop loving them for the both of us until you can love them too.”

She didn’t know what she could have possibly replied to that. He was right, it was still a long way to go. There would always be difficult times. After all, self-love wasn’t a permanent state she would be in for good once it was reached. She rather saw it as a concept, an idea she would possibly never reach in her life, but at least she could count on him to be there and help her see through his eyes whenever she was struggling.

“Now, can I make a suggestion regarding your outfit?” he derailed her train of thought. “Take the white summer dress with the pink peonies I love so much. You know how great your ass looks in that, don’t you?” He smirked while, once again, his fingers dug into her behind.

“So you keep telling me, Hen.”

“Because it’s true.” His lips briefly brushed over the tip of her nose. “And it will remind me all night long of all the things I’m going to do to you as soon as we get back here.”

Part 2

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Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @agniavateira @enchantedbytomandhenry @lumiousmoon @littlewrenofrivia @greensleeves888 @babypink224221 @lharrietg @diegos-butt @made-of-stars03 @sassy-pelican @marantha @jadert15 @legendarywizarddetective @mis-lil-red @memoriesat30 @irishprincess89 @honiebee @440mxs-wife

#teacher!henry cavill x reader #teacher!henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #teacher au #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill rpf #good night mr cavill

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tintentrinkerin · 3 years

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Title: Pink Pulse

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: explicit

Tags: Bottom!Dean, Top!Sam, Witch OC, Magic, Demon Blood!Sam, Horny Idiots, Breeding kink, Dean has a magic pussy, slightly crack!fic

Summary: Dean wants to piss Ruby off and reclaim Sam as his. During a bender he meets Mandrake, a shady witch who offers him help.

Word Count: 4.5k

READ UNDER THE CUT OR ON AO3

When Dean Winchester regains his consciousness on this cold and foggy morning, he doesn’t really expect a surprise. He’s been drinking for a day… or maybe two, after Ruby, this damn bitch!, showed up again to lure Sam back. It’s her usual fucked up game, she does that when the angels aren’t looking. Sometimes, Dean knows it, Sam secretly calls her and when he sneaks out, Dean knows where’s going. And when he returns he stinks of blood and skank.

Dean’s head hurts like crazy. It takes several attempts for him to roll from his stomach to his back and then get a grip on the dumpster he’s lying next to and swing his body up. His feet feel jiggly and his stomach seems to be empty but he’s nauseous as hell. He hasn’t been robbed, that’s a good thing, his phone, his purse, even the keys to the Impala are still in his pockets. He checks his phone.

It’s 7.38am. Okay, great. He might’ve just passed out a few hours and if he’s super lucky, Baby is parked in close distance.

His phone shows several texts from Sam and from someone who calls themselves “Mandrake”. Doesn’t ring a bell. Not yet. Rather, Dean browses Sam’s texts which tone switches from mopey, to angry, to frightened and then there are over thirty missed calls. Holy shit, was Dean really gone for just a night? Dean tumbles out the alley and winks at the bright daylight he’s now exposed to. He might call Sam before he really freaks out. Some memories flare up in his brain about the damn fight, and that Dean insisted Sam was caught by Ruby so easily because he was underfucked and needed pussy a little too bad. He still thinks he’s right.

There is something to that word. Pussy. Dean loves saying it, Dean loves eating it, Dean loves everything revolving around it, but when he accused Sam of being a horny underfucked loser craving some, he felt bitter about it. A feeling that he had earlier, before Sam went to Stanford. Now Dean is a grown ass man with the Apocalypse on his heels, he has more pressing issues - or so it seems.

He phones Sam while stumbling through the alleys and trying to find Baby. Damn. His pants feel weird. Like he has a wedgie. In the front.

“Dean! For fuck’s sake, where are you?!”

Dean stops in his tracks and scratches his crotch.

“Chill out, Sammy. I’ll find out where I am, I just need to find the damn car.”

“I was a second away from letting Castiel locate you.”

“Forget the damn angel, I’m on my way.”

Sam scoffs into the phone.

“You’re such an idiot. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“No, no, I don’t. I thought you’re sucking pussy all night.”

Sam hangs up without another word.

There it is again, this fucking thought. That Sam could be out fucking Ruby while he’s been… what? What exactly happened between nightfall and now? There was a fight, not physical, but Dean has been so fucking close to slap the bitch across the face. Sam stopped him.

Dean finds the pub where he supposedly was drinking his anger away. It’s closed. The “Full Moon”. And it’s been a full moon last night. How damn right poetic. His phone rings.

“Yo, Sammy - wanna apologize and admit you’ve been eatin’ her all night?”

A female voice on the phone laughs. Dean frowns.

“Who’s this?”

“Mandrake. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember jack. Where’d you get my number?”

Dean knows, he should hang up. This is maybe a very bad idea. Give too much away. This woman sounds familiar but a lot of women do, he’s not exactly in celibacy since he’s back from Hell.

“I got it from you, idiot. And I got something else.”

Dean follows the main road for as long as he somehow feels he’s been here before. He surely didn’t drive far from the motel but far enough that Sam wouldn’t find him. This is so not usual for Dean. Being a mopey idiot? Yes. Getting drunk? Also very much yes. It itches in Dean’s pants and when he makes sure no one’s looking he sticks his hands in his boxers.

Holy shit. What the fuck.

Sam can’t focus. He sits at the motel room’s table, trying to do research, but he just can’t block out all of the things that distract him. The flickering TV. The humming of the air conditioning system. His fingernails clicking on his laptop’s keyboard. The thoughts. All of his thoughts combined as sinister and hilarious and frightening they are at the same time. Dean’s been gone for two damn nights. Okay, now he’s back, sitting on the sofa, manspreading. Only in his now deflated looking underwear. Watching something on TV that Sam can’t process. He sees the images, but his mind is racing like crazy around all the other things. The goosebumps on his own arms, the sound of his own breath. He feels the harsh and fast pumping of his heart, circulating his blood. He can feel his pupils dilate. And his legs won’t hold still. He has to move somehow.

Ruby’s blood wasn’t enough last time. The fuck wasn’t enough. Everything aches inside Sam. Anger is like a fist in his stomach but he isn’t quite sure if the anger is the fuel of everything.

He knows Dean hates it when he bounces like this, his legs are shaking and damn, something is pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Of course it’s not something. Thing is, he wants to ignore it.

Dean seems to be calm right now, but he’s sitting right under the air conditioning, the blow is ruffling his hair while he stares on the screen, his arms crossed, legs spread out. He scratches himself. There. Sam follows the movement and gulps.

And then, shit, Sam, stop fucking looking at your brother’s crotch! - but he can’t stop! - Dean isn’t scratching anymore. Two of his fingers press right between his thighs, the fabric rustles, and it turns wet. The fucking boxers get wet. Dean doesn’t even seem to notice, but he should. It’s his body! It’s his-

Sam can’t even think it without feeling a rush of hot blood and sharp imaginary knives stabbing his lower stomach. Pulse spikes up. Pupils dilated. Mouth waters. Sam tries to hide a grunt but he can’t.

“Sammy, you good?”, Dean asks, still rubbing his-

Sam looks at him. He must look like a drug addict in withdrawal. Well, maybe he is. He’s maybe addicted to- it’s all Ruby’s fault. She came when Dean died and she lured him in, now he can’t stop thinking of her warm salty blood in his mouth. Or his teeth on her skin. His tongue-

“Fuck.”

Dean looks irritated.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I don’t even remember most of the fight. It’s only twelve or thirteen days from now and I’m-- I’m normal again.”

Sam inhales. Dean’s scent was building over the last couple of hours and now it’s so thick, musky and intoxicating that it’s hard to ignore it.

“Shut up and take a shower.”

Dean now closes his legs and presses his hands on his thighs. He looks at Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

“There’s nicer ways to tell me I still stink of garbage.”

If it was only fucking garbage! Sam is so close to yell it, to jump up, throw the table over or punch a wall.

“You don’t stink.”

“Then what?”

Dean gets up and walks towards the table. His chest is heaving, Sam notices. Breathing heavy. Such a broad chest, covered in goosebumps. Sam feels incredibly sick all of a sudden.

“I can smell…”, Sam needs to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. The closer Dean comes the worse it gets.

“Now tell me already, if I don’t stink anymore what’s the problem?”

“Dean, I could smell a chipmunk’s fart from miles away, that is a problem.”

Sam needs to breathe. He jumps up and throws himself over to the window and opens it. He should’ve done that way earlier, he realizes. But Dean is behind him now.

“Unless we have chipmunks with flatulences in here, I still don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

Dean touches Sam’s shoulder. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Oh holy shit, the whole hormonal time bomb erupts inside Sam’s body. When he turns around, he’s sure he looks super frightening to Dean, but he can’t stop, won’t stop and pulls Dean close. Dean freezes. A shaky little laugh.

“Sammy… what…”

“I can smell your pussy”, Sam growls, his lips on Dean’s skin.

Dean doesn’t smell like a woman at all, everything about him is testosterone, if there wasn’t this tiny anomaly about him.

That he got himself hexed by a shady witch.

There’s no struggle against Sam’s force when he pushes Dean against the table and then -- as if he waited for it -- Dean hops on that table, opens his legs for Sam.

“What are you doing?”, he still asks, his green eyes big and glassy, lips a cute pout.

Sam has no answer to that than before: “Your smell drives me mad. I need…”

What does Sam need? His brother? His magical pussy? Or wouldn't it be easier to run away to mountains nearby and scream from the bottom of his lungs until he passed out?

Decisions, decisions.

Dean's face has the colour of fresh pink guava juice, his freckles pop, his eyes pop. His lips part for a second. His tongue flicks. No Sam knows exactly what he needs.

“Do you need it? My pussy?” Dean whispers. He slowly pulls his boxer briefs down to his ass but then Sam needs to help, Dean clings on him, Sam pulls. Dean lays across the - thank GOD, long table and is spread out like a delicious meal, while Sam frees Dean from the fabric. It's more ripping then pulling and Sam groans, shit, he's ripped them apart. But then, when Dean opens his legs even more, lying here on his back like a beetle, helpless and weirdly pliant, the odor of Dean's pussy makes Sam cuss and tumble.

“Fuck, Dean…”

“Huh? Not good?”

Sam is out of words, super-ego just logged out with an ‘I have no power here’ and damn right it doesn't!

Dean's pussy is perfect. Another grunt. Holy shit. Instead of an answer for Dean, Sam kneels between Dean's wonderfully wide spread legs. His brother is the definition of a bottom here. Just opening his legs for anyone. Even Sam. The smell is intense and rich, Sam knows it from the other women he's been with... but Dean has one perfect twist. He smells like Sam's brother, too. Musky and citric. And that makes Sam go lizard brain.

“I need to taste you.”

Dean now even slides closer, his legs lie on Sam's shoulder. Sam jerks up and leans over the table, over Dean's naked body. This pussy is just the material of Sam's wet dreams. His nose rubs Dean's skin under his belly button and Dean moans.

“Do it, Sammy. Fucking do it or I'll push your face in my pussy myself.”

Well. Not the worst threat he's ever received. Sam's hand trails between Dean's legs and when he feels the wetness, a fucking intense wetness that is spread all over. Even the thighs are a little glossy from Dean's fluids.

Sam needs to see. Going down, he pushes Dean's legs apart even wider and dives in between these legs. Pink and juicy, dripping wet. The smells almost knocks him out, makes his mouth water and a generous drop of drool falls from his lips. He cannot fucking take that anymore. And Sam pushes Dean closer to him, winds his arms under Dean's now trembling legs and -

Dean cries out, muscles flex, he kicks out, then sinks down again. Just one damn lick.

Sam is in such rage that he can't be fully a gentleman here and do everything slowly, patiently. He's hungry and his primal urge has taken over. Greedy, he licks up and down Dean's labia, tongue working and opening his brother's pussy up and Dean sounds so fucking hot. No girl or guy ever made him sound so needy and so desperate for a fuck. He tastes just as good as Sam imagines when he sucks the thick and sweet wetness from Dean's pussy, sucks on the folds while his fingers run up and down Dean's thighs and Sam needs one free hand now, his thumb rubbing just above the hood of the clit, other finger just teasing his entrance. Not really pushing it in, just a little rubbing while Sam sucks and licks and circles Dean's clit with his tongue.

Dean feels like he is losing his mind. Not only that Sam really is between his legs and gives him mind blowing oral sex, fuck, Dean loves it. He thought Sam was angry but the way he devoured Dean's pussy, anger was definitely gone. He can't stop moaning and winding and his hands in Sam's hair. When he looks down and sees his brother's face up and down, he looks very focused on what he's doing. And in Dean feelings build up, it's a heat and a tumbling, never felt like this.

In a moment of taking a deep breath and Sam looks up, Dean's juices run down his chin and in the collar of his shirt. “Dean, you taste so good…” he says and bites in Dean's thigh. Doesn't hurt. “Better than anything.”

Dean shudders. He needs more.

“Sammy, keep going.”

Sam smirks, his thumb circling Dean’s now swollen and hot clit, his whole pussy is slick with his wetness. No woman Sam ever had sex got that wet.

His thumb is gentle, a perfect rhythm of circling. Stopping. Circling. Stopping. Little pressure. Dean’s body feels on fire.

“Is that what the girls tell you when you go down on them?” Sam asks, his voice rustling leaves.

Dean can’t help but utter a short, almost hysterical laugh.

“I never really listened.”

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk, Sam clicks his tongue.

“You should’ve. Not only that. Listen to what they say but what-”

Sam finger slides in Dean’s wet pussy with one fast but well adjusted movement. Dean winds and arches his back. Tries to get Sam’s finger away and yet…

“-when they want to escape you, you’re doing it right.”

“Sam, for fuck’s sake! I had enough sex with enough people to know the god damn basics!”

But feeling it himself gives him a whole new sense for it. Sam’s finger moves, wet sounds, in and out and it takes not even a blink and Dean begs for more. Two fingers, holy shit, Sam’s fingers are thick and long and when he starts fucking Dean’s pussy with them while sucking on his clit, the impulse to turn on his stomach and either crawl away or present his naked ass to invite Sam to fuck him -- Dean wants both!

Sam’s ‘come hither’ movements tighten the knot in Dean’s stomach. That’s not what an orgasm feels like for him when he’s about to blow. This is so much deeper, feel tight and hot right up to his lower belly. The noises Sam makes as he sucks Dean’s clit are downright vulgar. And the faster Dean’s breath goes, the more he tries to wind away, Sam’s hand around his upper thigh is a bench vice - he won’t let Dean go. Not unless…

Dean can feel it. He whines “fuck, Sammy, ‘m gonna cum…” and this would be the same moment he came. If Sam just sucked his dick. But this is… slower. And Sam goes absolutely frantic, like a boxer he just goes for Dean’s weak spots and he has definitely found them now and he rubs Dean’s insides, sucks his clit, damn how big can such a tiny thing swell? And Dean fucks himself on these fingers, his rhythm clashes against Sam’s, the bigger the friction, the better. His fingers clench in Sam’s hair and then finally, Dean comes, he feels like exploding, black dots in his sight and he has to close his eyes. His heartbeat goes straight up to his throat, only faint moans, a ‘holy fu…’ but he can’t even finish a fucking curse. Sam won’t stop fucking him, but slower now, more gentle. His tongue presses against Dean’s clit. Dean feels Sam’s breath on his wet skin. Everything tingles still, Dean’s hornystupidmanbrain is on standby, extremities just twitch helplessly.

When Dean opens his eyes he only sees the dirty brown ceiling and the dim light.

“I need a smoke”, Dean blurts out. Oh, the sweet refusal to acknowledge what just happened.

“Fuck, you clenched so hard I thought you would break my fingers.”

Sam sounds so deep, so gravely. Does Ruby hear that a lot?

Dean laughs, trying not to choke on his jealousy. Sam just ate him out. His brother. Just. Ate. Him. Out! Dean feels like he took drugs, heavy, light, euphoric. Not tired. This doesn’t seem to end in a hangover.

“Sam. I really, really wanted that”, another stupid thing to stay. But Dean’s stupid, especially when things are about Sam.

Sam scoffs. “I guessed, otherwise you would’ve punched me to a pulp.”

“Damn right…”

Dean covers his face with his arm, the dim light is too much right now. His breath hasn’t even calmed down yet and somehow, he has to admit, he’s not satisfied. The climax gave him a solid blank for a couple seconds but even now he’s throbbing and wet, Sam’s spit hasn’t made him any drier.

Dean is still a powerhouse of sex, Sam can’t deny it. Resting between his legs doesn’t help but he doesn’t dare to get up and reveal that he is rock-hard and ready. Eating his brother out has been a wild ride already, something he maybe dreamed of as a teenager (but even then - who would imagine Dean as a girl?), of sucking him off like he saw when Dean brought a girl or a dude home. Sam needs to get himself up, slowly, Dean is lying there, arm covering his eyes, but a smile on his face. He grins like an idiot. It’s cute.

Silence.

Awkward.

Sam doesn’t know what to say now, he’s lost control, because his brother grew a pussy. How could you ever explain that? Gladly he doesn’t have to.

Dean gets up, his eyes look teary, but not in the sad I’m-about-to-cry way. He rather pulls Sam close and whispers, something so idiotic, something so innocent, and yet something that makes Sam’s boner grow even more.

“You didn’t even kiss me first.”

“Sorry”, Sam replies, he’s just as stupid.

Dean makes it easy for Sam, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and kissing him. This is just another short circuit for him and before Sam realizes what he’s doing, his vision turns red. His instincts and his lust are wired to the taste and smell of blood - and Ruby. This is not Ruby. Gladly, this is not Ruby. It’s Dean. The one he thought of when it first happened, the one he was mourning so deeply. Now he gets what he wants from the person he wants. Bingo.

His brother is heavy, but Sam’s strength is to be reckoned with these days. It’s easy to lift him up - Dean’s legs wind around his hips, his ass feels so great. Firm. Dean moans in his mouth when Sam throws him on one of the motel beds and follows, laying his full weight on his brother.

“Sammy…”

Damn, Dean’s fumbling on his zipper.

“You’re big.”

Scoff.

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Dean looks really intrigued. Sam lets it happen. Dean slides a hand in his boxer briefs and squeezes his raging dick.

“Fuck. Dean.”

These big pleading eyes. Sometimes Dean looks at him like this. And he looks younger than Sam now. Needy. Small. Vulnerable. Sam can never say no when Dean looks like this. He kicks out of his jeans and Dean is so damn impatient. Fabric tears on the seams. Sam doesn’t care.

The way Dean strokes him, the close they are it would be easy, way too easy just to slide inside Dean. Feel his wetness, how tight. How hot. And greedy. Swallowing Sam’s cock like he did with his fingers. Dean stops him. Sam’s heart sinks. It hurts.

“Take everything off”, Dean just says, “I don’t want to feel like quick fuck-”

Sam just has to laugh.

“Never”, he vows and then pulls the shirt over his head and throws it over his shoulder.

The way he towers over Dean, ready to mount, he feels like a steam breathing monster. He really shouldn’t do that. He’s spiralling down to something he never wanted to be. But he can be with Dean this way. Just this once…?

More than once…?

Dean’s legs around his hips trap him now, he can feel the slick wet folds on his cock already and all he can do now is just thrust in. Around his fingers Dean already felt like heaven and hell on earth, but this. Sam hisses, he feels like growing fangs, he digs his teeth in Dean’s neck, he tastes salt and sweat, Dean whimpers but doesn’t complain.

“God… so deep…”, he says. Like he can’t believe it.

“Hurts?”

Dean makes a sound that says ‘nuh-uh’ and that’s enough for Sam. He even pulls Sam closer, his legs force his cock deeper inside this fucking wet and inviting pussy.

This is so much better than Ruby. He needs to fucking forget her. The deeper he sinks, the harder he thrusts and sweat runs down in his eyes and makes them sting, he forgets about what all of this could mean for them. He just wants to fuck Dean silly. And Dean clings on him like he’s drowning in this feeling, no matter how harsh Sam is. His hips are snapping, damn, it must hurt, right? He eventually slows down to kiss Dean sloppily and open mouthed, their moans intertwining and building a cacophony of sounds, loud and rough, soft at the same time. Sam manages to slow down a little and Dean relaxes.

“I want you to fuck me from behind”, Dean mumbles on Sam’s lips, trying to hide the fact he’s blushing deep.

Sam huffs.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.” Babe.

He almost called Dean babe. Sam winds out, slides out, winces. It feels so good, Dean’s so wet, Dean’s just perfect.

On all fours, arms spread out like a silly yoga pose, back stretched… Sam definitely dreamt of this more than once. This time he pushes in slowly, and Dean arches his back. His breath staggers, yelps. But yet again, after a second of adjusting, Dean starts moving. Fucking himself on Sam’s cock and saying such nasty, irritating, hot things. He mewls and begs for more and then.

“God, Sammy, cum inside me!”

Sam stops. Dean repeats. “Cum inside me!”

There’s no way Sam can deny him, he’s close since Dean started working him like he did it a thousand times already. Sam grips those hips tight, leaves white marks, then pink long traces of his fingernails as he snaps in Dean’s pussy, shit, these sounds. Juicy and full, and Dean’s longing. This is the best fuck. This is it. This is what will blow Sam’s mind for hours, the whole night. Days.

“You want me to breed you, big bro?”, he hears himself say, the animalistic side, awake, fully in rage makes him say it, he can’t stop. “You want me to pump my load in ya?”

Dean nods frantically, his mewling and crying is so pretty. He’s still bouncing on Sam’s cock, his wonderful, round and firm ass, perfect for slapping. And Sam does. Dean whimpers, “please, more, Sammy, more!”

Sam claws at Dean’s hair, pulls it, overstretching his neck. He’s so out of control he might fuck Dean all bruised and sore.

“Touch your clit, c’mon babe, rub it. Cum on my cock and you’ll get it. I’ll knock you up”, whoa.

Dean does it, his hand traces down his body and he starts rubbing his swollen, red, overstimulated clit, squeezes it between his fingers and starts rubbing, circling.. hard to find the thing that gets you going, right? But soon, Dean writhes even more, his voice turns higher. Legs start shaking. “I think I’m gonna-”

He cums on Sam’s cock, clenching and moaning, getting so wet it drenches Sam’s crotch and runs down both their legs. The feeling is amazing, Sam’s checked out once again, babbling “Good boy, good boy” and then shoots a generous load of cum, he tumbles and hips snap and snap, until he’s finished.

They collapse, sweaty and gasping for air, Dean makes incoherent post orgasm noises.

Another period of silence that is only interrupted by the usual motel room sounds that creep back in Sam’s ears. He wants to pull out but Dean claws on his arm, his legs trapping Sam’s.

“No, no. Not yet. Please not yet.”

Sam sinks back and gives Dean what he needs, the closeness. Even though after some time fluids will dry and get cold. It will get sticky and that’s when Sam will have the urge to shower.

Not with Dean. They stay like this for minutes before Dean turns around, Sam lets him. They lay beside each other and the whole scene is hilariously and bizarrely romantic. They keep kissing and Dean’s like the devourer of Sam’s kisses and affections.

Dean rubs his nose on Sam’s, humming. He seems so proud of himself, so satisfied, but then his eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.”

He gets up on one elbow and looks at the mess they made. Cum is leaking out of him and he wipes it from his thigh. Tastes it.

“Dean, really?”

“Hey. It’s only natural. Have you never been curious?”

Sam shrugs. “Yeah I was, but I never thought you would be.”

“You know this breeding kink thing. I did that before but I- I mean. Hot fantasy, works with anal but… Do I need an emergency pill now?”

Dean’s face is deadpan serious. Sam clears his throat to hide that he actually wants to laugh. How could he know?

“Just to be sure, I would say a magical pussy isn’t spunk proof. We could get to a pharmacy ...”

Dean falls silent and leans into Sam. There’s so many things unsaid and he’s not in the mood to unpack it. Sam is reluctant either. It’s enough for him to hold Dean close, pet his hair and keep kissing him over and over until they feel in the mood again. That Dean’s been hexed is a secondary matter. They will enjoy it as long it lasts.

Sam goes down on Dean, even when he’s still leaking cum, he just swallows it, he doesn’t mind. And when they get tangled into each other, both thinking ‘well, if he needs an emergency pill we’ll make it worth it’.

Consequences? Which consequences?

Apocalypse might come, they might enjoy every fucked up delightful thing along the way.

#wincest #dean x sam #sam winchester #dean winchester #rating:nc 17 #dean with a pussy #wincest smut

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justanotherteentitansblog · 3 years

Text

Bbrae Week Day 3 Into the Woods

There are giants in the sky! There are big tall terrible giants in the sky!

The changeling had his nose buried in the score as he attempted to read the music in front of him. ‘Funny’ Raven thought, ‘I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen him reading something other than a comic book’

When you’re way up high and you look below at the world you’ve left and the things you’ve known, little more than a glance is enough to show you just how small you are!

Raven hated admitting it to herself but dear god she loved his singing voice. He had this sexy tenor that was like honey to the ears. She could listen to him sing for hours and never get bored. Her favorite music was anything he sang, but she’d rather die than ever let him in on that.

When you’re way up and you’re on your own

In a world like none that you’ve ever known

Where the sky is lead and the earth is stone

You’re free to do whatever pleases you

Exploring things you’ve never dared

Cause you don’t care when suddenly there’s a big tall terrible giant at the door.

Stupid Robin and this stupid theater that’s closing down. If Robin hadn’t made such a huge deal out of trying to save the theater Raven would never be in this mess.

A big tall terrible lady giant sweeping the floor

Raven was just glad she could keep her cloak on for the role at least for most of the first act, she didn’t know if she was ready to face an audience without it.

And she gives you food and she gives you rest and she draws you close to her giant breast and you know things now that you never knew before

A Teen Titans production of the show, into the woods. Super. Raven didn’t even know she could sing up until auditions. She had never really tried before and once she did, she kind of blew everyone away, herself included.

Not til the sky

“Ok good work, you’ve obviously been practicing but next time hold out sky for a little longer, you’re cutting it short and you should be taking a big enough breath after before to be able to sustain that.” The music director, Dan, reminded Garfield.

“Thanks dude! I’ll work on it!”

“I know you will, that’s why I don’t hate you,” Dan nodded.

Raven liked Dan, he didn’t pussyfoot around.

Dan turned on the piano bench to face Raven motioning her to come forward with his fingers.

Nevermind, she actually hated Dan.

She sighed and slumped her shoulders trudging to the piano like a child being sent to timeout. She threw her hood over her face to hide the blush coloring her cheeks before Dan interrupted.

“Your character doesn’t have their hood on at this part of the show!”

‘Fuck you Dan’ Raven thought pulling her hood down.

“Ok top of measure 55, here is your starting note and…..go”

Careful the things you say

Children will listen

Careful the things you do children will see

Gar regarded Raven’s tense form. She was nervous, and she didn’t want to make a fool out of herself in front of an audience.

And Learn

Too bad she had probably the biggest role in the whole damn show, The witch.

Children may not obey

But children will listen

The role really was very fitting for her. Maybe not the rap about produce but everything else about the role was very...Raven.

Children will look to you for which way to turn

To learn what to be

If only someone could just show her how to relax into a character and just be natural in it, then it wouldn’t be so painful for her.

Careful before you say, Listen to me

Wait! He was someone! He could definitely show her how to get into character, and you know a little extra alone time with her wouldn’t be such a terrible thing now would it?

Children will listen….

Dan turned to Raven, “How do you think that went?”

“Well I was pitchy on measure 75 and I think I got off tempo towards the end, also my voice cracked at measu-”

Dan raised his hand to silence the girl, “No, you’re singing was perfect, the real issue is that you need to relax. You know what you’re doing so just let yourself do it without judgement.”

Raven glowered at the music director, “Easier said than done, Dan.”

After rehearsal, Raven gathered her things in her bag and was headed towards the stage door when a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, wait, Raven!”

“What do you want, Gar?”

“I think I know how to help you with your stage fright, that is if you want my help.”

Raven breathed a sigh of relief, “You don’t know how much I would love that, thank you”

Gar chuckled, “Well you’re gonna love the means of how we’re gonna do it even more.”

Raven was amused, “Oh?”

“Yep, I’m gonna show you how to meditate like an actor.”

Later in Raven’s room she had sat on her floor cross legged waiting for instructions from her teammate.

“Ok start with deep breaths in and out. In….Out….In”

Raven smiled despite herself, for him to give her instruction on deep breathing when she meditated everyday, it was almost laughable, but she complied.

He guided her through a simple grounding exercise and once she was fully grounded he began speaking again, “Now I want you to imagine you’re in a cottage in a forest…”

Ah, so this was a guided meditation, this she could handle easily.

“Now this is your cottage and your home, understand? Around your cottage is a huge garden, full of beautiful greenery. Can you see it?”

“Yes”

“Spend a few moments admiring your garden, truly soak it in.”

She did as instructed.

“Now I want you to imagine you hear a sound somewhere in the garden, I want you to move towards the sound.”

Raven found herself wandering a maze of vegetation in her mind’s eye until she found the source of the sound. A man in her garden. Not just any man but her neighbor stealing her vegetables! She tended that garden with every fiber of her being and the fact that someone she said hello to every morning was stealing from her, it felt violating. She was furious, she could’ve laid a spell on him right there! She could’ve turned him into stone, or a dog, or a chair…

Raven popped an eye open realizing what was happening, “Is this guided meditation based on the witch’s story in the show?”

“Yes, now get back into it!”

Raven shut her eyes and let her mind sink back into the story.

Her neighbor was begging for forgiveness but she knew it would happen again if she didn’t do something to keep him away. She had been lonely and barren all her life and having always wanted a child of her own, she was envious of the baker’s pregnant wife. She offered the baker a second chance at life for the baby growing in his wife’s womb. The baker reluctantly agreed before climbing over the garden wall, but as soon as he had left the sanctity of her walls...BANG FLASH, LIGHTNING CRASH! She watched as her hands shrunk and withered into the hands of an old crone. Raven ran to a small stream that ran through her garden to look at her reflection and much to her horror and dismay a 90 year old woman’s face stared back.

Raven sat up and screamed out of the meditation jolting Beast Boy backwards.

“Raven, are you ok?”

“Meditation is supposed to relax you Gar, not send you horrific images.”

“Yeah sure but...how do you feel about the baker now?”

Raven’s eyes glowed red at the mention of the name. “Oh I don’t care what it takes, I’m getting my face back and somehow making him pay for it in the process!”

Raven paused, confused at her own words, “What was that?”

“That was you finally being in character.” Gar smiled up at his friend.

“Ok but you said that you were going to help me with stage fright, not character development.”

“I did, Rae. Now when you go on stage, you’re not going to be thinking about the audience, you’re going to be thinking about what a rat bastard that baker is and how you’re going to make him pay. You’re going to think about how everyone sees you as the bad guy because you’re the witch when really you’re the victim in the show. You’re going to think about how much you love Rapunzel and you’re not ready for her to grow up yet. All the characters on stage, they’re not in front of an audience they’re just living their lives, it’s our jobs as the actors to give a venue to tell their stories.”

Raven was floored, since when did he get so...wise?

“That was a very impressive speech, Garfield.”

“Yeah well, you know, can’t be stupid all the time,” he shrugged.

“A slotted spoon can catch the potato..”

“See? Now you’re in the spirit of the show.”

Color flooded Raven’s face as she stood to meet her friend at the door.

“Thank you Gar, I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.” she leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Gar’s emerald skin met red as he flushed at the contact, “Uh, wait. What? Did you just?”

“Best to take the moment present, as a present for the moment” she said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for another kiss.

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae fanfiction #into the woods

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

Men who I think would be soft for their baby for no other reasons than because I want them to be, in no particular order but still numbered ten to one because I like countdowns...

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Part two —> part one here

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This one’s for you @activist-af, no Finn and Kol erasure here Lottie

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10. Raleigh Becket

A really good man who is a little too impulsive at times and has pretty much no sense of self preservation and always seems to get himself into worsening situations

Is so fucking soft for his baby that it’s insanity

His baby is in no way the same kind of super soldier he is, she’s literally the softest baby in the world, and he’s just so careful with her

Like he follows her around the compound and just makes sure she’s okay

Eats every meal with her, shares a room with her, literally does pretty much everything with her just in awe

So many cuddles before and after a mission, lots of reassurance, kisses her entire face everywhere at least twice and has to get practically dragged away

Endures so much teasing from his partner

I don’t care if his character is suited for a dominant female you can’t change my mind on this one this man is soft as fuck

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9. Ambrose Spellman

A reformed radical warlock who has been locked in one house for a hundred years and is itching to go on a self-destructive bender after cleaning up his family’s messes for years

In absolutely no position to be in a committed relationship but I don’t give a single fuck

He would follow his baby around like a damn puppy when finally free of the Spellman residence

Oh she wants to go to witch school? He’s tagging along

She wants to go travel? Lead the way

The park, carnival, movie theatre, cafe, literally endless places he would follow her

Would read to her as she falls asleep and tell her all his little bits of knowledge on things that he collected during his time stuck in the house

A soft man that is final

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8. Richard O’Connell

Cannot survive a normal, mundane life because it’s “too boring” for a man like him and would risk it all for a mummy invasion even if it means that he dies in the process

But by god he is so fucking soft I just know it

Keeps her safe at all costs even when she pouts at him and makes him take her with him when he travels

Refuses to leave her side when they go abroad because his track record with ancient curses is not great and there’s no way he’s letting some gross ass mummy hurt her

*dramatic gasp* HE ACTUALLY REFUSES SOME DANGEROUS MISSIONS FOR HER???

Does the thing where he leans into her hand when she touches his face and like kisses her palm

Definitely sleeps curled around his baby and wakes up at the slightest noise ready to hurt any intruders

I would literally do anything for this level of soft

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7. Finn Mikaelson

A one thousand year+ original vampire who has absolutely zero sense of self preservation and actively seeks death because of how much he hates himself and would gladly bring his family down with him because mommy said so

Doesn’t quite fit the full dominant image but I don’t care he fits the soft part 1000%

Would bring her with him when he goes to see his family and is always wrapped around her the whole time

Endures all the teasing that would come with that for her because she’s?? Just?? So?? Cute and perfect???

Literally a thousand years old and would still absolutely crumple for his baby in SECONDS

If she cried it would literally be game over

There would be two people crying

He would be crying MORE than her

Epic date night planner, meticulously detailed, would pay so much attention to the things she likes and picks up on even the smallest clues

God he’s so soft I want one

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6. Clint Barton

Largely pushed aside Avenger who has been evil in the past and appears at times to miss the evil a little too much

This one doesn’t even need an explanation, I’m literally right and this one has proved himself countless times

This man is the love of my life so yes: I am biased

Badass, sarcastic, cold archer Avenger by day; soft, caring, gentle man by night

Goes home, soaked with blood and sweat, and pulls his baby into the shower and just sags into her arms

Lives for her fingers in his hair after a long day

And bubble baths with her

Has gotten in trouble countless times for skipping important meetings but does not give a single fuck about it

Teaches her archery and doesn’t yell once (which is a feat pointing to his softness because once he tried to teach Nat and they yelled at each other the entire time)

HE IS SOFT, CASE CLOSED

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5. Bellamy Blake

Incited a radical uprising in a highly dangerous and sensitive situation for really no reason at all other than the fact that he wanted to be the de facto leader of something

As per usual, I don’t care about canon characteristics this is my world I can do whatever I want

Every bone in this man’s body is a protective one

Yes, every single one (No, I’m not sorry about this)

Does not take shit from anyone about her, has definitely shut an entire group of people up for talking about her badly

Gets so nervous when she does anything even remotely dangerous and when she does he’s stuck to her side like glue

He’s so touchy and talks so quietly to her, not because he doesn’t want anyone to hear him call her his baby but because he just literally can’t bring himself to raise his voice he’s that soft for her

Does everything in his power to make sure she’s comfortable which is by no means easy in the slightest

So many forehead kisses that it’s almost barf worthy but he doesn’t care because she loves it and that’s all that matters

The radical leader is a fucking puddle of softness for his baby and that’s final

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4. Loki

A trickster god who always teeters precariously on the edge of good and evil and no one ever knows which side he’ll favour at any given moment

Except when it comes to his baby then he’s good duh

Tiptoes around her because he would definitely be the type to go for a baby who jumps easily and he’s loud and kind of clunky so he’s always just slow and gentle

So much gentle teasing and giggling like oh god it’s tooth rotting sweetness

He takes her hands and just puts them on him, like his chest and cheeks and jaw and arms

Anywhere he just wants her touching him all the time

He rests his chin on her shoulder or head and reads whatever she’s reading or watches her go about her hobbies, kissing her cheek in between

This girl would never work a day in her life she would be ridiculously well taken care of

Would burn down a city for her with little provoking

As soft as butter for his baby

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3. Kai Parker

Bringing back the “needs a therapist, not a girl” but sprinkle in a touch of volatile daddy issues that has created a man so hyper reactive to every negative situation whose only solution is to lash out because he figures no one loves him anyway

But sweep all that aside because fuck it, I don’t like it

He would worship his baby 110%

Is the type of man to let her do his nails and put as many face masks as she wants on him

Can’t sleep without her literally on top of him

He so clingy and touchy, loves when she grabs his hand, internally screams whenever it happens

Has for sure killed for her that isn’t even a question it’s just a fact

“He didn’t do anything” “he looked at you” “but Kai” “but baby”

Would do it again

I DON’T CARE: HE’S SOFT FOR HIS BABY

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2. Jasper Hale

A literal once upon a time confederate soldier who made child soldiers for his dom-vamp girlfriend because he was “in love”

This man has ripped so many heads off so many bodies but I don’t give a single fuck I know he goes home to his baby and just picks her up and does not put her down

Face it, his family is rich, he doesn’t have to do anything, naps are definitely a big part of his routine and he’s always just snoozing with her on the couch, pulling her onto his lap and pulling a blanket off the back and they’re just asleep

Goes out for dinner with her, makes it through maybe twenty minutes, the entire time he’s waiting for it and then boom, the puppy eyes, game over, they’re home in minutes

Has skipped so many family functions

Will make any excuse to just go the fuck home

Sometimes he doesn’t even make an excuse he just fucking leaves

He’s touchy too I just know it look at that face the man lives for contact

The verdict is in-- 100/10 SOFT

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1. Kol Mikaelson

Perhaps the angriest, most volatile, I-hate-the-world-and-everyone-in-it, thousand year old+ original vampire who has been stomped on so much and died so many times that he has no true sense of the world, trust, and love left

Oh GOD this man, this FUCKING MAN

THE SOFTEST MAN HOLY SHIT

I don’t even care what y’all think about this one Kol is so damn soft

This man is the inventor of cuddling

And he doesn’t give one single fuck about where and when I just know it

Family dinner? The witch market? CHURCH??

It doesn’t matter, he’s pressed against her

Oh god this man is protective

Maybe a little possessive too

I don’t care

His family calls him unpredictable so hey he may as well live up to it and burn down a bar or two or twenty for his baby

Shows her all of his witch things and rambles about them all

Is always pulling one of his shirts or hoodies over her head

AGAIN BUBBLE BATHS I JUST KNOW IT

He likes washing her back and just getting to be alone with her

He likes it even more when she washes his hair like he just sinks to his knees and closes his eyes and gives into it

GOD MY HEART IS BEATING SO FAST FOR HOW SOFT KOL IS

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#Kol mikaelson #loki #kai parker #bellamy blake #jasper hale #ambrose spellman #finn mikaelson #clint barton #hawkeye #raleigh becket #rick o'connell #the originals #the vampire diaries #the avengers #twilight #pacific rim #the mummy #the 100 #the chilling adventures of sabrina

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annebl4cksworld · 3 years

Text

Cold Blood pt.3

WARNINGS: None really, I don’t even think there’s swearing ^^”

NOTE: I do not own any rights to Marvel or The Originals, I have taken content directly from the shows in order to give you a better image of what’s happening!

A/N: Sorry i haven’t posted in a while, I’ve been going through a lot lately and haven’t had the chance to sit down and keep going.... also I haven’t figured out how to link my chapters yet so I’m sorry for new ppl

Word count: 1,500 (smaller than normal but the next part will be longer so it will make up for it)

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Weak from the hours of spells and torture Rebekah stumbled trying to get away from Klaus, running through doors, falling against walls and eventually ending up in the basement where she met a dead end

“Tired of running?” he called behind her

“I know how much you love the chase and I’d like to deprive you of it” huffing against a wall, watching him round the corner. Klaus was suddenly on his knees and tossing someone away from him, it was Marcel

“Ah! The lovers reunited, this is actually perfect, I can deal with you both at the same time” pulling the dagger from his belt he waved it in the air.

“Klaus, it was my idea to call Mikael, he had nothing to do with it” she wheezed moving to stand in front of Marcel, unconscious on the floor.

Before anything else, the blade in Klaus’ hand was driven into his chest. Outside Briar gasped in pain, everything halted to a stop and she fell towards the ground; as the energy field dropped Steve ran for her, grabbing on at the last minute before hitting the ground himself. Briar groaned turning in the arms of the super soldier, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself up “Nice save capsicle”

He turned and sat up after her “don’t call me that”

“Somethings wrong” Briar brushed his comment off looking over at the sanatorium, she stood and watched as her aunt and Marcel sped out of the door and off into the night. “Oh no” she breathed turning back to see Elijah carrying Klaus with Tony and Natasha right behind them,

“Uncle-”

“He did it to himself Briar, I’m taking him back to the compound” Elijah interrupted as he walked past, he placed Klaus in the car and turned back to his niece “What about aunt Rebekah?”

“In hiding; a necessary sacrifice. Go Briar, you don’t need to be here for what comes next, you did your job beautifully. This is between siblings” Elijah placed a kiss on her forehead before getting into the car and driving off.

Briar turned to face the avengers “Ok, when do we leave?” Tony then turning to face Steve “You gonna fight me on this?” Cap clenched his jaw and looked away

“Seems you’ve already made up your mind” Steve turned to Natasha, “and I for one would like to get out of this city before any other vampires come sniffing around” the redhead flipped her hair and grinned at Briar.

Once on the quinjet Briar leaning against the wall next to Tony who was flying, she watched steve and he adjusted his uniform,

“He doesn’t like me” she whispered, Tony shook his head

“His loss then” winking at Briar she rolled her eyes, “He’s not so great, there’s times where I want to punch him in his perfect teeth”

“Down boy” Briar glanced Tony's way “what’s got your panties in a twist about him?”

“Grew up listening to how my dad ‘knew captain America’ as if it was some great feat, as if that made him some superior being. What I hate most of all is how freaking polite he is”

“Polite?” Briar scoffed I must have missed that

“Guy dies and wakes up 70 years later, finds out there’s aliens, androids, wizards and now vampires, witches and werewolves. Let alone someone who is all three; he’s bound to be suspicious. Stand off-ish, hell, maybe even a bit of an ass”

“Are you defending him? The guy you just said you want to punch in the teeth? I mean he’s got a hell of an ass but-”

“How close are we?” Steve asked cutting Briar off coming to stand behind Tony’s chair

“Friday?”

Nearly 20 minutes out, sir

Steve nodded and walked away eyeing Briar as he went, she winked, giving a devilish smirk.

“You were saying?” Tony asked, turning as Steve left. Briar shot him a ‘nevermind’ look shaking her head, she looked out the window as they flew closer to the compound.

Once on the landing strip, the back opened and everyone gathered their belongings.

“Labs all set up boss” a demanding voice called from outside the ship,

“Oh, no. He’s the boss” Tony turned to face the brunette, who was now on the ship, pointing to Steve who turned his head not making eye contact with anyone,

“I just pay for everything, design everything, make everyone look cooler”

Briar shrugged and turned to face the brunette, “what’s a girl gotta do to get a drink around here”

“Hill, status report” Steve called coming to stand in front of them “Sir-“ before she could continue; Steve pulled her from the ship and spoke in hushed tones. Briar huffed, feeling an arm snake through hers, “c’mere darling, I got you” Tony whispered in her ear pulling her off the ship.

Steve watched as they walked by, “I have everything you could dream of and if I don’t I’ll have it flown in, promise.” Tony announced loudly for everyone around to hear, Nat watched Steve watching you, “She doesn’t seem so bad”

“What’s her deal?” Hill asked

“Nothing, she’s not a part of the team” Steve stated grabbing the tablet from Hill’s hands to sift through the photos.

“Top shelf for little old me? Tony you spoil me” Briar winked taking the drink he handed her,

“You’re going to be meeting the rest of the team soon, a god, an Android, a witch, a rage monster, you know a little of this a little of that. Try to be nice, some of them have-“

“Anger issues?” Briar twisted the glass in her hands “They sound fun, who’s first?”

“Tony…” a timid man called from the doorway,

“Banner, - Tony smiled at Briar - Banner is first, what’s the word?”

“Uh- I need you -um in the lab” without making too much eye contact he walks off

“He gets nervous around beautiful women, it’s no big” Tony waved his hand dismissively and followed Banner, Briar close behind.

“The scepter, we were wondering how Strucker was getting so inventive, so I’ve been analyzing the cube and take a look at this.” Banner brought up a holographic image of the cube onto the floor.

“It’s beautiful” Briar commented leaning against the doorway

“It is; it’s like it’s thinking- i mean this could be- it’s - it’s not a human mind, i mean look at this. They’re like neurons firing.” he paced around the image

“Down in Strucker’s lab I saw some pretty advanced robotics, they deep six the data but… I gotta guess he was knocking on a very particular door.” shrugging Tony watched Banner come to a halt.

“Artificial intelligence.”

“This could be it, Bruce. This could be the key to creating Ultron.”

“Ultron?” Briar asked sipping her drink,

“Peace in our time Briar. Imagine that?” Tony beamed

“That’s a mad sized ‘if’ Tony” Bruce rubbed his neck

“Our job is if what if you were sipping margaritas on a sun dried beach turning brown instead of green? Not looking over your shoulder for veronica”

“Don’t hate I helped design veronica” Bruce started pacing again

“As a worst case measure right? What about best case? What if the world was safe? what if next time the aliens roll up to the club they can’t get through the bouncer”

“The only ones threatening the world would be people” Briar stated leaving the doorway to stand beside Tony, offering her drink.

“I wanna apply this to the ultron program but friday can’t download a data schematic this dense, we can only do it while we have the scepter here that’s three days, give me three days” he took a sip of the drink

“So you’re going for artificial intelligence and you don’t wanna tell the team?” staring at Tony nervously,

“Right and you know why because we don’t have time for a city hall debate. I don't wanna hear: the man was not meant to meddle, medley. I see a suit of armor around the world”

“Sounds like a cold world Tony” Bruce looked back at the image in front of him.

“I’ve seen colder” Briar locked eyes with Bruce

“this one, this very vulnerable blue one, needs ultron. Peace in our time Banner, that’s all I’m saying” placing a hand on the small of Briars back he led her out of the lab and into the hall.

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bornspellcaster · 3 years

Text

Bad Blood

(She was so small, easily fit within his palm practically. He pulled the hood of the cloth aside to reveal the fruits of their labor. Bright cyan eyes peered back at him, a silky bushel of strawberry hair wrapping the back of her head.

Yes, he felt something unaccounted for, something that might have felt warm. Maybe no matter the motivation, a father couldn’t escape that curse.)

Dad! Belos AU

Some said that Emperor Belos didn’t have a heart, and maybe they’d be right. It was buried deep, but when the realm you led bid a leader one couldn’t be so weak and wear one for the Isles to see. However, perhaps even he felt a stirring when he gazed upon her face the first time, swaddled in a piece of cloth.

“Here she is, my liege.” Gwendalyn spoke her words with maternal pride as she gazed lovingly down at the baby nestled in the crook of her arm. With a slight bow she stepped forward. Always with the formalities, that one—dalliance or not.

Belos took the baby, with one hand gently supporting the child’s head. She was so small, easily fit within his palm practically. He pulled the hood of the cloth aside to reveal the fruits of their labor. Bright cyan eyes peered back at him, a silky bushel of strawberry hair wrapping the back of her head.

Yes, he felt something unaccounted for, something that might have felt warm. Maybe no matter the motivation, a father couldn’t escape that curse. “And what did you decide to name her?”

“Lilith, Sir. Lilith Clawthorne.”

“A beautiful name.” He already sensed she would be strong. Of course she would, a child of his and the esteemed Gwendalyn Clawthorne. He’d only picked the best for the job. A thumb rubbed along the whimpering, squirming little baby’s cheekbone in measurement and perhaps tenderness.

“A…and will you be…raising her here?” The mother was quite nervous now.

“I have no time for raising an infant,” Belos scoffed with an annoyed eye roll. The chaos and carnage that went on in the coven? The baby would get killed within her first week! “No, I trust you will raise her well.” His words were spoken with an underlying threat. “To honour the Titan’s wishes, and my own. And not to speak a word about her true paternity.”

“Of course.” Gwendalyn deflated in relief. “You know I will, my liege.”

“Good then.” Belos passed his daughter back to the witch with a look that lingered too long on the infant. “Then I’ll see her when she’s older.”

Lilith was two when he next saw her in person. He’d glanced time and again to watch her growth, but the Emperor didn’t have much time to survey his daughter. Her hair was already down to her back, and unkempt and fluffy.

She was nervous and clinging to her mother’s pant leg as she nuzzled her face into the messy fabric. In Gwendalyn’s arm was another bundle. It was best to do these sorts of things in ‘batches’, so was The Titan’s will. If one was too weak perhaps the next would be strong. He stepped forward.

“Her name is Edalyn…”

“Edalyn…” the Emperor mused as he took the baby in one arm and picked Lilith up with another. He turned his oldest daughter around, tilting her chin up and examining the child he hadn’t seen in the flesh for years. The toddler’s nerves had given way to curiosity as he sat with her on his knee.

“Do magic?” Lilith chirped as she formed a ring within the air and a small ball of flames crackled within her palm. This impressed Belos as a child her age would barely be able to make a circle, let alone summon fire. Of course, this was a daughter of his.

“So I see! Well done, Lilith.” A bit of pride leaked into his voice and his bony finger traced her cheek. “She’s coming along well,” he mused to Gwendalyn, and watched as Lilith nuzzled his palm. He felt the stir again and he smothered it. “You’re doing well, so far. Of course, the children are just in their early development. How you really do remains to be seen…”

“Y-yes, I know…my liege. Lilith is already excelling and I intend to enroll them both at Hexide.”

“A grand choice…” Belos looked back to his new daughter. “I can sense a great deal of power coming from young Edalyn. Yes, The Titan will be very pleased indeed…Welcome to the world, child,” he intoned and gently flipped the hood off the babe’s head. A tiny bushel of brown hair greeted him, and wide hazel eyes. She was so tiny, as Lilith had been once. She met his gaze and didn’t whimper. She…

“Pbbbbth!”

It took a great deal to surprise Belos, but that certainly did it as no one had ever had such audacity. Gwendalyn looked horrified and pale as he slid a hand up to wipe the saliva off of his golden mask. A glowing eye glared down slightly at the baby he…could have sworn looked smug. This one would certainly need to be taught some respect.

Edalyn was a troublemaker, rambunctious and rebellious. He loved her spark and passion but her lack of fear for authority unnerved him. The girls were doing well in their studies, but Edalyn was getting in trouble at school. She didn’t listen to her teachers. She pranked, she backchatted. Bossy and immature, the father was getting impatient. Her impressive power meant little if he could not wrangle it and her future would be bleak. His daughters were five and seven now.

“I’m getting fed up with that impertinent child’s attitude,” Belos snapped into his crystal. Gwendalyn forgot who she was speaking to for a moment as she glared back.

“You’re getting fed up? I’m the one that’s raising her.”

Luckily, Belos was far more occupied with the pressing issue at hand to notice. “You’re being too soft on them, Gwendalyn.”

“S-Sir, they’re very young children. I can’t be too harsh on them.”

“You certainly can and you’re going to be!” His voice rose, making the young woman shrink down for a moment. “You will be as harsh as you need to be because at the end of the day that’s what’s needed if you want to make sure Edalyn stays alive. And you want that for her, don’t you?”

Gwendalyn was fighting tears now. “Of course I want my children alive!”

“And you want what’s best for them? You want them to have this world?”

“Yes!”

“Then you will do what’s right by them and start doling out harsher discipline. Verbally, physically, do what is needed.” Belos watched her face grow pale and suppressed a guttural hiss. Bleeding heart of a wench…

“Ph-physically? Emperor Belos, please! I could never hurt my children!”

“You WILL do as I command you to or my daughters will be taken into my own custody where I will raise them in the castle and you will be prohibited from any contact with them!” Belos finally shouted into the crystal.

Gwendalyn’s eyes went wide with terror at the mere thought. “No, please! Don’t take my children! Please! I…” A small sob racked her frame. “I’ll do whatever you wish…”

“Hmm, good…” Belos purred in an almost sickeningly sweet tone of voice, amidst another quiet sob from the pained mother. “Instill within them fear and respect for The Titan. And respect for their father.”

As Gwendalyn sobbed again, Belos could see the regret in her expression—likely for the family ties she chose to weave. And he chuckled. Poor caged little birdy… “Power comes with sacrifice, dear. You knew that when you signed onto this. It’s for the greater good, and their own good. I’m sure they won’t hate you too much.”

Gwendalyn quickly turned her head as she shuddered.

“Bye-bye now, dearest. Pray you don’t disappoint me.”

The image of Gwendalyn faded before she could dissolve into another pitiful round of sobs. From that moment on, the nurturing mother the children adored vanished and left a regretfully ruthless woman her heartbroken daughters feared.

Belos was at his limit. It had been a year now and Edalyn still refused to improve her attitude. She was top of her class and perhaps even the strongest at her school but was still such a rebellious pre-teen. Perhaps what was the most alarming to the father was how she appeared to show a dislike for covens. His daughter could not become a wild witch. He couldn’t save her if she did. All wild witches had to be either reined in or eliminated if they refused to repent. The will of The Titan came before familial ties.

Gwendalyn had become much harsher on the girls, like he ordered her to be. It only seemed to make an impression on Lilith, which he at least appreciated. At least he only had one out of control child, and she was more than enough trouble on her own! Lilith was a concern in her own right however. She was weaker than Edalyn by quite a margin.

Kids…

“What else would you have me do?!” Gwendalyn snapped at Belos for what must have been the third time in this past month alone. She stood up to him a lot more now, which just irritated him further. “They regularly have…” She swallowed hard. “B…bruises. A-and other marks on them. I’m on them constantly to study! I’m harsh with their discipline and strict with everything they do. Short of knocking her head on the concrete, there isn’t much else that I can do!”

“I can see that you are failing at this task.”

Gwendalyn went just about red with rage. “If you think I’m doing such an awful job then you try something with her!” The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted it as Belos’ head inclined thoughtfully to the side. “N-no, I take it back. Please, I didn’t mean it!”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.” he hummed thoughtfully. “It’s been quite a time since I’ve seen my daughters… Perhaps little Edalyn would benefit from an unsupervised visit with her father.”

Gwendalyn gasped in horror and she was back to pleading, making Belos roll his eyes in annoyance. Oh why did he have to pick such a hysterical one? She was initially so strong. Is this what motherhood did to a woman? Maybe he’d dodged a bullet lacking fatherhood so far… “No, please! Th-that’s not necessary!”

“Either you let me take Edalyn for the day or I take her permanently,” he told her plainly. Cornered, Gwendalyn felt her shoulders sag and all she could do was nod thickly.

“Don’t worry, the child will be relatively unharmed.” This brought little comfort to Gwendalyn but she had her eyes closed in hollow resignation.

“When will you take her…” she practically whispered.

“Pack her things to be ready to go tomorrow. A guard will come fetch her. Matter of fact, it couldn’t hurt to have Lilith along as well. This lesson can benefit them both.”

“L-Lilith has no issues-“

“Do not question me, Gwendalyn. Get the children ready by dawn. I’ll talk to you soon…” He didn’t receive anything more than a listless nod and that was good enough for him as he ended the call.

It wasn’t unheard of for unruly witchlings to be brought to the Coven by parents at their wits’ end and there hadn’t yet been a time that a complete turn around wasn’t seen almost immediately. Belos normally didn’t oversee any of these proceedings, but this was a special exception. It was family, after all.

The father thought back to the squirming little infant in his arms. “I’ll be seeing you soon, children…”

Notes:

(So I’m obsessed with this show and this theory/AU. Before anyone crucifies me for any lore mistakes, I watched TOH last year and I’m only just rewatching it now (and I’m on Escape Of The Palisman) so I may have some mistakes and gotten some stuff wrong. Feel free to gently correct me!

For one I don’t remember if witches can give birth so if they can’t, they were created by DNA magic, idk. Who else can totally see even baby Eda being ‘fuck you’. Listen, she always knew something was up with that weirdo.

Belos is a very complicated father and it’s SUPER hard to write him being in character while also caring for anyone. But if the theory of The Golden Guard is true then…maybe he can?? We really don’t know much about this jerk and even the evilest can love in their own twisted way, who knows.

Next chapter is gonna get quite a bit darker and Luz will be brought in eventually, possibly that chapter even. I’m aiming for possibly three chapters, but it might be more if I think of more and if people like this.

I also have another fic coming long! ‘Lilith Seems Happy’. Spoiler alert, she not, as it deals with the regression and repression she’s been doing with her issues in the latest episodes. I don’t think I’ll connect it to this universe as it follows more canon, but we’ll see.)

#the owl house #emperor belos #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #toh fanfic #the owl house fanfic #I wrote this on a03 #thought I'd put it here #since I'm putting up my dad belos au tomorrow

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brandstifter-sys · 3 years

Text

Crisis Angel

@dukexietyweek Day 2: Swapping (Ao3)

Word Count: 2277

Characters: Roman, Virgil, Remus

Pairing: Dukexiety

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, death mention, Gore, sex mention, Body Horror, Fire, Criss Angel references

The Dragon Witch causes Remus and Virgil to switch roles because she's tired of listening to them whining about the other, but they manage to fix it

---

It wasn’t everyday that Remus got cursed by the Dragon Witch, in fact it was incredibly rare, since she actually liked him and his antics. But he had to complain and whine about his predicament, no one liked him, and he seemed to scare the shit out of Virgil. All he wanted was cuddles, clothing optional–was that too much to ask!? A duke can fall in love and want to be with the person who had his heart, and he can want without shame! If only he weren’t the embodiment of intrusive thoughts he could win that emo over. The Dragon Witch just had to take his ranting to heart!

Remus woke up feeling a general unease. He was very much aware that he had to fix his weapon rack or else he could do some serious damage, and there would be blood and broken bones and sprains and he didn’t know how to mend himself! That’s what Janus was for—and for being a friend, like the golden boy he was. He was kinda saddened when he remembered that no one else really liked him or wanted him around. He had a feeling he knew what happened, and he didn’t want to think about the implications of it. He did anyway. It's not like he had much of a choice.

Instead of his usual attire, he threw on a Green Day shirt, leggings, sneakers, and Virgil’s old hoodie. He kept it for the nostalgia and because Virgil didn’t wash it before he got to it, so it smelled nice. It was the only part of his outfit that made him feel comforted and safe. He would need the safety to manage his way through the day and back to the Dragon Witch’s castle. She had to be behind this sudden change! He just hoped he was the only one affected.

However, when he stepped into the common area, Remus realized that he was not the only one affected. Oh no, he saw more than he bargained for!

"I can't believe you of all people would suggest such a thing!" Roman huffed from his usual recording spot and crossed his arms.

"Why not? Just because I hate him doesn't mean I don't think he should be royally fucked into submission!" Virgil jeered from the stairs, where he was spread out and lounging like some kind of rockstar. He definitely dressed the part—tight leather pants covered in zippers, an open spiked leather jacket that showed off his defined torso, and knee-high combat boots.

"I want to vanquish that foul villain, not create a fanfiction worthy scene to deflower him!"

"You wouldn't, I made sure he was flowerless years ago. You're just making excuses, Princey—we all know you want that snake cake and to tear into that dandy with your second sword—unless you're more interested in a new pony to whip."

"What happened to you? You sound like—"

"—me," Remus said and announced his presence. Two sets of eyes landed on him and he swore he wanted to disappear at that exact second.

"Are you saying I sound hot?" Virgil jeered and leaned forward, smirking coyly at Remus. Roman huffed and ignored him, deciding that Remus might be more willing to explain.

"Do you know why Virgil is acting like this? And what are you doing in that hoodie? You look like death!"

"I don't know for sure but I'm pretty sure Mille did it," Remus shrugged and leaned against the staircase tiredly, but not letting his guard down, not with the way Virgil was eyeing him. He shivered at the thought that crossed his mind—too much blood he did not want.

"Millie? Remus, have you been bothering her as of late?" Roman pressed.

"I don't know if I would say I was bothering her, I visit her at least once a week with snacks and we hangout. I could have been bothering her, though. Maybe I was! Oh god, what if I was and she didn't say anything because she doesn't trust me to listen to her when she's uncomfortable?!" Remus freaked out and tugged the hoodie closer around him to shield his body.

"You know you could have asked me for that hoodie, I would have given it to you, in exchange for a few organs," Virgil mused and licked his lips. Remus winced and curled into himself, uneasy about getting that kind of attention in front of anyone else.

"You switched," Roman said as it dawned on him, "but why would she do that? Unless—"

He froze when Virgil casually drank lighter fluid from a flask and then a lit match. The plume of flames that shot from his mouth towards the ceiling made Remus jump back and clutch his chest. At least he wasn't thinking about how he could have made a mistake with the Dragon Witch.

"Hmm the Dragon Witch did this? Do you think she'd make a better pair of boots or a belt? I'm tired of the flood of new parlor tricks," Virgil hummed, "It's agony without any relief—but I know one of you can make me feel better."

Roman scowled as Remus inched toward the couch. Virgil snapped his fingers and appeared on the couch behind Remus.

"I'm a better seat than this old thing, Dukey," he teased, getting Remus to yelp and freeze.

"I'll go see her and save you the heart attack, at least from that journey. I'll see if I can stitch the pieces together since you don't seem to be prepared for that."

"Need a few needles?" Virgil asked lazily and pulled a string out of his navel, shockingly there were needles threaded along it. Roman sank out with a huff, unwilling to deal with any more nonsense. Remus was more distracted by Virgil's bare skin and toned abdomen to be bothered. So he might have been gawking.

"You can get a closer look, with your tongue if you're brave enough," Virgil teased before tossing the thread away. Remus turned bright pink and averted his gaze. He kept getting horrible ideas about what he could do to that body.

"You don't want me to do that," he sighed and hugged himself, "No one wants me to get too close, even Janus has his limits. And I know it's for a good reason."

Virgil sat up and leaned towards Remus, pouting.

"You really think that, Cuddlefish?"

"Yeah, everyone else just wants me to get lost, except Janus, why wouldn't I think that?" Remus said bitterly and sat on the arm of the couch.

"I only want you to get lost in my eyes, or my intestines after I go Dahmer on your ass."

"Come on!" Remus snorted, "I scare you, and you don't like me and my gross ideas. I make you uneasy and I don't know what to say to not do that because everything could go wrong and I don't want that. And now more than ever, I'm terrified of everything that could go wrong!"

"I usually don't like the thought of you seeing my pants tenting—that's a circus that's not usually in show. But you can get ringside seats whenever you want, if you want."

"What?" Remus questioned, trying not to focus on the image of Virgil wearing Britney Spears' ringmaster outfit from the video—or something more revealing.

"If I don't keep my distance I'm not gonna be able to let you get away. I like you, so goddamn much I just want to rip your eyes out to stare at them forever."

"Virgil?"

"It's a lot easier to say it without the crushing weight of anxiety squeezing my innards out through my pores. I like you, that way, hell, I might even be bold enough to say I love you! And it's usually so terrifying I could drop dead from emotional overload at any second and you'd have a corpse to play with as much as you want!" Virgil raved, jumping to his feet, "You are everything I'm not and I want you to want me the same way but you deserve better than a panicking maniac with anger issues and low self-esteem! And I know that this change won't last so I have to tell you now before I go back to being a pants-shitting basket-case."

"And what are you going to do when we switch back? I don't know if I can take a confession like that just for it to change jack shit, especially when I want you to mean it. I don't wanna be the emotional victim of the resident mind freak," Remus pressed. Virgil stood in front of him and tapped his chin in thought.

"Actually," he hummed and thrust his hand through his chest, revealing some torn muscle and his broken ribs. Remus' eyes went wide as he grabbed his thundering heart and tore it out, blood spurting on the floor.

"I want you to keep this, keep it safe, and that way I'll know that it's safe to act on these feelings, even when I'm an anxious emo mess again."

Remus reverently took his heart and cradled it in his hands like a treasure he was afraid to break. He stared up at Virgil in awe before pressing his lips to the gift.

"There's a different throbbing muscle you can put your mouth on," Virgil teased. Remus scrunched up his nose and stuck out his tongue.

"Not when you have a hole in your chest, Angel!"

"Wanna stick something in it?"

"Kinda," Remus admitted sheepishly. Virgil leaned down and cupped his cheek.

"First let me show you my greatest trick," he purred, "turning a man into a puddle." Remus' breath caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered shut as Virgil captured his lips and licked into his mouth. Remus melted into the kiss just as expected, his heart racing with his thoughts.

And then a familiar feeling took over him. The Dragon Witch really went with the biggest cliche to lift the curse.

"I can't believe I just did that," Virgil mumbled as he pulled away. Remus grinned and wiggled in his seat.

"But you did! And you can do it again!" Remus sang and giggled, "But first—!" He conjured a jar around the heart and set it on the ground gently, then he eyed Virgil's wound.

"Do you want to fix that or can I stick something in it?" he pressed, getting Virgil to glance down and flinch.

"No, too many risks, I don't really want you to accidentally mess something up."

"Accidentally?"

"I don't think you would do anything like that on purpose with this hole."

"This hole?" Remus purred, "So there are others I can mess up? Please, do go on!"

"Maybe later, after I skin the Dragon Witch. I didn't want her to actually get rid of my anxiety so I could tell you—y'know—"

"So you were bemoaning your cruel fate too? Maybe we should thank her! You're really hot when you're confident and having my kind of thoughts!"

"Give me enough time and somewhere private and you can get more of that," Virgil mumbled and rubbed his neck, "If I'm in a comfortable place, I might be able to relax—but don't get your hopes up, anxiety sucks."

"It was kinda not that bad being Anxiety," Remus mused, "I didn't feel great but I was a lot more aware of my surroundings and the way my pulse thundered from excitement! Now I know what I need to fix in my room and what really gets me going!"

"Even if I'm not Creativity anymore, I still might have a few ideas worth trying," Virgil said in agreement.

"Creativity?"

"Yeah, your role."

"But I'm an intrusive thot!"

"You think you're the only one with twisted thoughts?" Virgil scoffed and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, "You know you were still having them, I could see how you flinched without me doing anything, it's so obvious. That part didn't change for either of us."

"So you have intrusive thoughts too? You should tell me about them! Over dinner!"

"I could do that, if you can't come up with a more creative date."

"You can come to my room to watch a few horror movies and cuddle—but you have to wear that outfit or less because goddamn! I forgot how ripped you are!"

"Dinner it is," Virgil huffed and loosened his grip. Remus whined and leaned closer with a pout.

"Movies and cuddles. But jammy pants and no shirt under the hoodie instead," he countered, "I need skin to skin contact no matter how platonic."

"You mean the mouth to mouth won't be enough for you?" Virgil mumbled and blushed down to his shoulders. Remus' eyes went wide.

"You never said that would be an option! I didn't think you'd want to do too much on the first date!"

"You have no idea what I want to do with you right now."

"You can show me!" Remus grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. Virge scoffed and loomed closer, gripping his hair tighter. Remus' breath hitched as those lips brushed against his own.

"You'll just have to wait for that," Virgil mumbled and pulled away without kissing him.

"Tease!" Remus whined and crossed his legs. Virgil smirked at him and shook his head.

"See you tonight at eight—or more like seven since I tend to panic and show up early," he said and pressed a kiss to Remus' forehead before sinking out.

Remus picked up the jar again and squealed. It was going right above his TV so he could see it while he held its owner close to his. He definitely owed Millie big time!

----

Inspo pic for Virgil’s outfit

#dukexietyweek2021 #remus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #dukexiety #roman sanders #anxiety!remus #dark creativity!virgil #body horror mention tw #fire mention tw #cannibalism mention tw #blood mention tw #death mention tw #i really liked making virgil a total criss angel rip off for some reason #sandyscribed

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Something Worth Fighting For

Request: Hi love! Your writing is amazing and I was wondering if you could do a Dean x depressed!reader? Like dean finds the reader about to jump off the roof of the bunker after reading the note she left him and sam saying goodbye. He had never suspected anything cause she hid it so well. Dean saves her and tells her his feelings for her? You can also add any details you want or anything like that! There is no rush! Thank you!

Word Count: 1865

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Warnings: Suicide attempt, Thoughts of suicide, depression, angst, self-hate, body image issues (scares), descriptions of suicidal thoughts, this one is pretty dark guys if this type of thing triggers you please read with caution! Fluffy, Protective!Dean, Language, I think that’s it.

A/N: This fic is unbeta’d! All mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work, this one is cross-posted on Wattpad as well!! Feedback is Gold! Hope you all enjoy this one!! Remember your never alone! ALWAYS KEEP FIGHTING!!!!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

You find yourself standing in front of the long mirror in your room in nothing but your sports bra, and sensible underwear. Your fingers trace the deep scare that blemishes the skin of your stomach from a werewolf attack not even a year ago.

It's not the only scar that litters your skin, each a different size, shape, and hold a different story. A gunshot wound to your shoulder from that time you were hunting a witch down in Louisiana, and your young hunting partner, who didn't make it back from that hunt alive, missed their shot, landing you with a witch killing bullet wound to the shoulder.

Then there were all the cuts and scratches from knife fights in bars as well as hunts. The hunting life has left its mark on you, more than one.

Those were just the marks that you could see. Deeper marks resided deep in the dark corners of your mind in the form of people you loved and lost, couldn't save, and weren't fast enough to save. They haunted you like a ghost that you couldn't salt and burn to get rid of, and there was nothing you could do about it.

The voice that you could hear no matter how hard you tried to drown it out with heavy metal music playing from your speaker taunted you.

"Look at you, you will never be good enough for anyone to love. No one ever loved you anyway. You will die alone. Everyone you ever loved or come in contact with will eventually die, and there will be nothing you could do to save them, nothing you can do to stop it... Your position.

Pulling Dean's old AC/DC shirt over your head, and a pair of leggings on you take one more look into the taunting mirror that hung in silent mockery of your depression that had been dragging you down for days.

You didn't have long to pull off your plan, the boys would be home soon, and if they caught you, they would surely stop you, and you couldn't have that.

You were nothing but another liability, someone else that Dean had to take care of when he already had so much on his plate. You proved that when you fucked up on that Vamp hunt down in Indiana last week, and Sam nearly got turned.

They would be better off with you gone. They would be better off with you not around to fuck up on hunts, and you would be one less person to have to watch out for when shit went sideways like it so often did. So with that in mind, you decided to take yourself out of the picture. You were tired of all the fighting anyways.

Grabbing your favorite gun that you had gifted to Dean in your goodbye letter because you knew he always liked it, and your journal for Sam, because he always had his nose in a book of some sort, and there was a lot of past hunts and encounters written down in there, you make your way towards the war room.

Taking one last look at the bunker you called home, you make your way towards the cast-iron stairs. Laying the things you left for the boys on the map table as you went, and never looking back.

Your plan was to climb up to the top of the bunker, then jump off. It would be a quick end. One final fall, one final disappointment, one final let down and this would all be over. Then maybe… Just maybe… You could finally get some peace. Whatever was waiting over there had to be better than what you had waiting for you here.

You had just finished your trip to the top of the bunker when you realized you were too late, a squeaky car door slamming, and the sound of Dean’s deep voice screaming your name broke through the blinding tears that were streaming down your face, and even cut through the voices that were screaming so loud you thought for sure they’d be the last thing you ever heard. You never thought Dean would find you still alive.

Before you even had time to react Dean had scrambled his way up to the top of the bunker and was pulling you away from the edge, his strong arms wrapped around you, and you were powerless to fight against him. You were just too tired.

“Dammit Sweetheart, what the fuck were you doing?” Dean said, and you didn’t have time to answer before Sam met the two of you at the top of the roof, your note in hand, and an ashen face in fear he was too late to catch you.

The realization hit Dean like a freight train. He didn’t say anything at that moment, just picked you up in his strong arms as if you weighed nothing at all, and carried you down, and back inside the bunker with little effort. Sam stayed quiet, and only opened the door to Dean’s room where he was taking you, but didn’t intrude.

That was Sam. He knew Dean better than anyone, and he knew Dean wanted to take care of this alone. He would be there if he was needed, and always in earshot if need be, but this is something Dean could fix, and he knew that.

Dean laid you down on the soft memory foam covered mattress of his bed, before stripping his jacket from his well-toned body, and laying down next to you, pulling you into his arms, the steady drum of his heartbeat steading your own as you buried your head into his chest. Letting his scent surround you, comfort you.

“Why?” Dean said, his voice thick as tears streamed down his perfect face.

This wasn’t what you wanted, you never wanted to hurt Dean, you wanted to take the hurt away from Dean, not add to it. You never knew he’d care if you were gone? Why was he so upset now?

“Why were you going to do it, Y/N?”

Your mind was reeling, and everything was overwhelming, but Dean deserved an answer, so you took a deep, shaky breath, and tried to swallow past the lump of nothing that seemed to be blocking your throat.

“Because I’m nothing but another problem for you Dean, another fuck up, another mouth to feed, and another person you have to take care of. You would be better off if I wasn’t here anymore.”

Dean lifted your chin so that you were looking up at him, his piercing green eyes wet, and sad as he stared down at you. Hurt set deep in his God-like features that hunted your dreams from the moment you laid eyes on him.

“No, no Y/N, you’re so fucking wrong, you are NOT a liability to me, your not just another mouth to feed, your not someone else I have to take care of, your everything thing to me. Do you not see that? I know I suck at words baby girl, but I’m crazy about you, and you leaving me that way is not something I can live through. I’m in love with you, Y/N. I can’t live in a world where you don’t exist.”

You sat there with your jaw hanging open, staring back into his eye as if you blinked, you’d wake up from whatever dream this must be. Because Dean Winchester said he didn’t fall in love, Dean Winchester said that he didn’t do relationships because he was poison, Dean Winchester would never be able to love someone as broken and fucked up as you were. This had to be a mistake, a dream.

“Dean.. I…”

Dean pressed his lips to yours with enough force to knock you breathless, throwing all the emotions he had in them, and it didn’t take you long to respond to him. Your lips move with his as he kissed you drunk, and when he finally pulled away your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

“How long have you been feeling this way?” he asked you, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Since Sam’s almost accident, that was totally my fault,” you said, looking down at your hands that were now linked together. Your mind still reeling over his little confession that had slipped past his lips, and you were sure that he hadn’t even realized that he said them, which made you think he was just in the moment and didn’t mean them at all.

“Y/N, accidents happen, this line of work that we do, baby it comes with risk.” Reaching down and brushing his hands through your hair. “You can’t blame yourself for a mistake that any one of us could have made. That doesn’t make you a liability. Hell, I fucked that werewolf hunt, and you got hurt, and I walked and kicked my own ass for a day! I didn’t decide to check out early! Baby when you're feeling this way you can’t shut us out, you have to tell me!”

You could see it in his eyes, the hurt that you almost caused him, the trembling that was in his hands as he held you close to him. Maybe he did mean it, maybe he did really love you.

“Promise me something, sweetheart, I know you probably don’t feel the way I feel about you, but please promise me that you will come to me next time you're feeling this way! Don’t try and leave me!”

It clicked then. This wasn’t the way to fix things. To check out early may have removed the pain from you, but it placed it on someone else. Someone who already had too much on his shoulders, and someone who had lost so much. Someone that really did love you. Deep down that’s something you had always wanted, but thought you could never have. Someone to love you.

Your mind raced back with things that Dean had done since you moved into the bunker, and God if you didn't feel like an idiot for not seeing it. He really did care, he was trying to tell you all along.

The late-night movie nights, bringing you food and coffee to your room every morning, taking care of you when you got sick, he never left your side when that werewolf almost gutted you, he set up all night long with you when you had a nightmare about the night your parents died. He was always there, putting you before himself or anyone else. He really did love you and was trying to show you the whole time.

In a fit of boldness, you had no idea where it came from, you brought your hand up to the side of his face, his stubble rough against your hand. You promised yourself then and there that no matter how bad it got in your head that you would never leave him again.

“Dean I promise you, I’ll never try and check out early again, I love you too much to leave you like this.”

And you did, and you always would, because now that you knew you weren’t alone, you had a reason to fight!

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Tag List: @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural

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libsterslobsters · 4 years

Text

What Is and What Should Never Be: Part 3

Summary: As the Reader and Bucky adjust to the latest change in their lives, the age old question surfaces: when is the right time to tell your friends that you're having a baby? Or in this case, how long can you keep it a secret from the Avengers?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! super-soldier! reader

(Reader can see pieces of the future in visions and understand every language)

Warnings: Language, fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst, mentions of body image issues, pregnant.

Author's note: Fun factoid: I'm a mom in real life. I experienced pregnancy and childbirth. As such, I pulled from my personal experiences (and my wonderful husband's support) to write this. That's in no way me saying that my experiences are standard for every pregnant person. As always, the reader is unnamed for those of you who prefer to read this as a self-insert, but for some reason, I've named her Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

“I want to keep this between us for as long as possible.”

He’s been away on a mission for the past week and a half, living on little to no sleep, so she feels bad for bringing this up now, while he’s trying to rest, but if she doesn’t get it out of the way, she’s afraid she’ll chicken out.

“Hm?” He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t move a muscle from where his body is casually draped around hers, both of them in bed even though it’s one o’clock in the afternoon.

“You know.” She places her hand on top of his. These days, if there’s any way at all he can manage it, he’s got his palm resting on her middle, even though there’s nothing there to feel except a slight bloating.

“Thought we were safe.” It’s said with a yawn, the words more slurred than spoken.

“We are.” Relatively. They’re at thirteen weeks now, outside the treacherous first trimester. Still… “I know we’ll have to tell the team eventually, but I’d rather that wait until it’s an absolute must.” She’s in the reserves, a last-resort Avenger, and thankfully she hasn’t been called up yet and had to lie about why she’s rejecting a mission. That luck will run out one day, but until it does…

“We’re always gonna be on guard, from here on out. The child of two super soldiers, one of them with…” She still doesn’t know quite what to call it. “…strange abilities…”

His eyes open, a look of immediate understanding forming on his face.

“We could retire.”

She’s thought about it, but she shakes her head.

“No. One of us has to stay in. We’ve got a better chance of keeping her safe from the bad guys if one of us is on a team with the good guys, and if the choices are you staying in or me-”

“I’m the better option.”

He is, as much as she hates it.

“Okay.” He nods. “But we’re on borrowed time here. It’s not as if we can hide the fact that one day, we’re gonna have a kid living with us. And even before then-” Time to lighten the mood.

“Buck, you’d better not be about to insinuate that I’m going to get fat.”

He snorts.

“God, no. Do I look stupid to you?” She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t answer that.”

“You know, your hair does stick up in the mornings-”

“Don’t answer it, Doll.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Sgt. Barnes!” Bucky stops in his tracks. He’s running a little late, yeah, but surely that’s not enough for Rhodes to come running after him, literally chase him down through the Avengers compound. “Hold up, Soldier. I need to have a word with you.” He thinks he knows what this is about, but still, he’s not going to say anything until he absolutely has to.

Rhodey stops in front of him, arms crossed, scowling.

“Barnes, would you happen to know why I got an email this morning from your wife, handing in her resignation?” It’s exactly what he thought.

“Yes.” It’s clear from Rhodes’ expression that he’s expecting Bucky to say more, but he’s not going to give in. She resigned. They talked about it, and not only is it her right to quit this job, it’s also a damn good decision all things considered.

“That’s it? ‘Yes’?”

“That’s right.”

Rhodey sighs.

“Barnes, I need a little more information here. Why in the hell would she suddenly quit, straight out of the blue?”

“It’s not my place to say. You’d have to ask her.”

He could say. Of course he could. But, she made some good points about keeping the baby a secret, and he’s in total agreement (in theory; in practice, he doesn’t think they’ll be able to pull it off for more than another month or so, considering who they work with).

“I’m not gonna get anything out of you, am I?” Rhodey’s doing his very best to stare him down, but it’s a lost cause.

“No, sir.”

“Alright.” Finally, he’s waved off. “You’re dismissed, Sergeant, but there’d better be a good explanation for all this.”

He thinks that’ll be the end of it. Unfortunately, when he meets up with Sam for a debrief, the questions start all over again.

“What’s up with you lately? You and the Mrs. on the rocks or something?” Or something. The opposite, really, but it’s definitely something.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on.” Sam narrows his eyes at him. “You never let your phone go past the first ring, even if it’s not a saved number. You can’t wait to get out of here at night and you’re late in the mornings. It’s clear your mind’s somewhere else.”

“I’ve had your back, same as always.”

“Sure.” Sam nods. “You’ve had my back, but your heart’s not in it. So what gives?”

This is one where he’s not sure he can just go with, “I’m not telling you” and get away with it. They’re partners, after all. Sam deserves some reassurances.

“I swear I’ll tell you eventually, but not right now. It’s nothing bad, though. Nothing that’ll affect the team.” He’s not sure of that last part, but at least it seems to reassure Sam somewhat.

“You’d better, or else I’ll kick your serum-ed up ass, metal arm or not.” Uh-huh. Sure. That seems likely.

The rest of the day is pretty quiet (well, except for his phone dinging with a text alert: “Just dipped a carrot in melted chocolate ice cream for some reason and ate it. I’m disgusted with myself. Also, it was really good.” which made him have to bite his tongue so hard he tasted blood so he wouldn’t laugh during a meeting). He thinks he’s survived it, gotten away with having a gigantic secret (that’s actually the size of a lemon currently according to one of the books he’s reading). That is, until he’s unlocking his car, and a hand comes down on his shoulder. Without thinking, he goes on the defensive, pinning the other person to the car opposite him, only realizing once he’s got one hand around her throat that it’s not an attack. It’s Wanda.

“Sorry.” He lets her go, briefly checking her over for injuries. None, although she looks a little ruffled.

“My fault. I should know by now not to sneak up on you.”

He nods and pulls his car door open.

“Congratulations, by the way.” And, he’s frozen to the spot. “About the baby.” How does she… she touched him. That means she probably got a good read on him.

When he turns to look at Wanda, she’s wearing a knowing smile.

“I knew it had to be something. Either your marriage is in trouble, or she’s pregnant.” She chuckles. “Well, if you two were having a fight, you would be walking around like a kicked puppy, so that leaves the other. It only took a touch to find out. They’re both at the forefront of your mind.”

What the hell does he say to that? It’s not like he can tell Wanda she’s wrong. She literally looked inside his mind. There’s no coming back from that.

“How many weeks is she?” He keeps his mouth shut, which apparently amuses the Scarlet Witch. “You know I’ll just find out for myself if you don’t tell me.” Fine. He knows when he’s beaten.

“Fourteen.” Or will be in another two days.

She frowns. “Why the big secret? You’re safe, aren’t you?”

“As safe as anyone can be in this line of work.” That seems to satisfy Wanda.

“Tell your better looking half that I’m sending my best wishes. Oh, and that if anyone tries to touch her or the malysh, I’ll kill them myself.” She’ll have to get in line.

“You’ll keep this to yourself, right?” She smirks.

“Of course I will. The perfect picture of discretion.” The funny thing is, he can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The familiar chorus of Johnny Cash’s “Man In Black” sounds from her phone just as she’s about to head towards the fitting room. Normally, it’d make her smile for two reasons: one, it’s him calling her, and two, she always pictures the scowl on his face whenever he hears the song because he hates it and, “I’m not seeing why that song reminds you of me, Doll. There’s no similarities whatsoever.” (never mind that every single one of their friends has heard it once, and cracked up because it’s so damn on the nose, it’s hilarious), but right now… well, she wishes he could’ve held off another fifteen minutes.

“Hello-”

“Hey. Where are you?” She holds the phone away from her ear long enough to check the time. Five forty-five. Well, at least he waited a solid five minutes after he arrived home (yes, she knows the length of his commute down to the minute) to call and make sure she’s not dead in a ditch.

“I’m…” She’s not ready to tell him exactly what she’s up to. It’s too embarassing. “Running errands. Shopping.” It’s the truth; she’s just choosing to omit for what.

“Oh.” There’s a brief pause, then- “I got into a debate with Sam today, and I was wondering if you’d be the deciding vote. Who’s the better singer: Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby?”

It’s their designated question, a signal for, “Are you being held against your will/is someone listening?” For a moment, she’s so frustrated (normal people don’t need a signal for “have you been kidnapped”) she considers shooting back, “Well, Sinatra was a wife beater and Crosby was a philanderer. That’s not even to mention the mob ties, so no matter what, they were both dicks. ” but swallows it down. No need to snap at him, or worse, scare him.

“Sinatra, but in my opinion, he’s overrated.” There’s an audible sigh of relief, and that melts some of her irritation. Some, not all. “I’m sorry. I should’ve texted, but I thought I’d be home before you noticed.”

The whole ‘overprotective’ thing has always existed (how could it not in their line of work, and in the past, it’s as often her sending a “you okay?” text as him), but in the past two months, it’s gone into overdrive. This is the fourth time this week she’s received a worried call, and it’s only Tuesday! It’s sweet how much he cares, but she’s starting to suspect that by the time nine months are up, she’ll be under constant surveilance.

“It’s okay. I’m being a little…” He trails off (well, at least he’s self-aware). “I could’ve stopped by the store and picked up whatever you needed on my way home, Doll. Saved you a trip.”

“Not this, you couldn’t have.” It slips out before she can think better of it. Dammit. Now she’s going to have to answer-

“What is it?” -that. Fuck.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“I guess, but I’m still confused. Are you sure you’re okay?” Ugh. Fine. It’s not like she needed that last shred of pride anyway.

“This is humiliating, but-” She takes a deep breath and spits it out all in one go, “-mystupidpantsdon’tfit.”

“What?” He has enhanced hearing. Not to mention he speaks several languages, and he couldn’t decipher that? She pinches the bridge of her nose to keep from losing her cool completely. None of this is his fault. Well, except the obvious.

“My pants. They’re too tight in the waist. I can’t breathe in them, so I decided to go and get something-” She examines one of the ugly pairs of nondescript yoga pants in her cart. “-more forgiving.”

There’s no real bump yet, but she’s at the awkward point where she’s too big for her normal clothes, and too small for maternity. Hence, workout wear. Workout wear and loose shirts that, despite their design, don’t fool anyone into thinking she’s still the same size.

“Okay, but why is that humiliating?” In that moment, she hates him almost as much as she loves him.

“It just is. I’ll see you at home in another forty-five, tops.”

She’s about to just hang up, when-

“Take your time. Just text me when you’re on your way so I know you’re safe.” Dammit. And, now she’s tearing up in the middle of a department store because no one has ever cared this much about her before, my god she’s lucky to have him, and he’ll be a great father.

“Will do. Love you.”

A trip to the dressing room confirms what she thought: there’s absolutely nothing flattering about anything that’ll fit her. She looks oddly reminiscent of Thor when they contacted him to try, once again, to defeat Thanos; too many days skipped at the gym, an over-indulgence in beer and pizza. Not pregnant. Just letting herself go. Still, she can breathe, sit, and as she finds out once she’s loading bags into the back of her car, bend over in her new clothes, so she bites the bullet and buys the items that, once this is over, she’ll never wear again.

She’s still in a bad mood when she gets home, and it’s not improved when she remembers how many papers she has to grade before tomorrow morning. The scent of a frozen lasagna (she had enhanced senses before, but now her nose is going bonkers) wafts from the kitchen, letting her know where he is, and since it’s a guarantee he will have heard the door open and close, she doesn’t bother to call out an “I’m home.” before heading up the stairs to see if her purchases look better in different lighting.

Short answer: no, they don’t. Long answer: “I look like an overgrown toddler.” As she mutters it to herself, she pulls on the hem of her oversized shirt. Nope, still not a great look.

“Where’s the glow?” She asks the woman in the mirror, who’s peering at her in mild disgust. “I was told there’s supposed to be a glow.” Of course there’s no answer. Completely discouraged, she peels off her clothes and replaces them with a pair of his sweatpants and a tshirt, then, finally feeling the effects of her long day, climbs into bed for a quick nap.

She has no idea how long she’s been out when she feels the mattress shift, signaling that she’s no longer alone. For all she knows, she could be dreaming it. But, as a cool metal hand brushes back a few tendrils from her cheek, she knows she’s having no such luck. He’s here. Time to play “I’m just fine”.

“Hey. Sorry to wake you up. Especially when you look so damn cute, curled up fast asleep wearing my clothes.”

Her eyes are still closed, but she rolls them.

“There must be-” A yawn cuts her off half-way through. “-something wrong with your vision, Barnes, because I wouldn’t exactly call this ‘cute’.”

“You’re right.” She blinks up at him, confused. “More like beautiful. My mistake.”

She knows better than to do it, but she scoffs.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She attempts to sit up, but it’s no good. He catches her shoulder and gently pushes her back down.

“It’s not nothing. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

She studies his expression, analyzing the slightly confused pout, the furrowed brow. No way he’s gonna let this one go. She’ll have to explain.

“I just….” What’s the best way to put she hates everything about herself physically? “...don’t really like how I look right now.” And now, he looks even more confused.

“Why not?” Honestly, how dense can he be?

“Let’s see: I’m bloated, I’ve gone up a cup size but instead of it being fun and sexy, it hurts, all of my clothes either don’t fit or they highlight that I’ve gained weight, and no matter how much I shave, it looks like a damn thicket!” Her frustration gets the better of her, and she’s nearly shouting by the last word. Feeling guilty, she rolls over so that she won’t have to see his face.

“Oh.” Oh? That’s it? What does it matter? It’s not like this is something you can kiss and make better. She’s grateful to have made it out of the first trimester, truly she is. And this baby that she never thought would exist, this little piece of both of them? She loves it with her whole heart. But right now, she really feels shitty.

“I hate to break it to you doll, but I think you might be the one with the vision problem, because that’s not at all what I see.” She opens her mouth to tell him she’s really not in the mood for platitudes, but then his fingers are in her hair, pulling it back from her face, and she decides to shut up.

“I haven’t noticed if it looks like a damn thicket anywhere on your body.” She rolls her eyes.

“Not noticed, my ass.”

“No, I always notice your ass-” She left herself open for that one. “-but if there’s any stray hairs, I haven’t noticed, and I don’t care. Not at all.” But she does. This is supposed to be a beautiful time in her life where she’s getting more in touch with her feminine side. Well, right now she doesn’t feel like a delicate fucking flower. She feels like a walrus, and it’s only going to get worse.

“This, though-” he tugs lightly at her hair. “-it’s gotten thicker. Whenever I wake up and you’re still out, I kinda have to resist the urge to just run my fingers through it, ‘cause it’s just begging to be touched.” He places a gentle kiss on her hairline, trailing down her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck, and finally her collar bone. “It may not be fun, but it’s definitely still sexy that you’ve gone up a cup size. Even more than that, it’s incredible. You’re body’s going through so many changes to make sure that she gets whatever she needs. I can’t wait to see what else happens.” It is pretty incredible, when she thinks about it. But she still can’t help feeling… off.

They’re side by side now, his body curled around hers, and as per usual, his hand has found it’s way to her middle. “She’s growing, getting stronger every day. That’s thanks to you, Doll. You’re already taking care of her, and she’s not even here.” Her eyes close again as the soft words are spoken against the back of her head. “She’s lucky to have you as her mom. I’m lucky to have you. And it’s okay if you don’t like how you look right now. I’ll keep reminding you how amazing you are until you can see it on your own.” As she drifts off again, she can’t help that think how she’s pretty damn lucky too.

___________________________________________________________________________________

He can’t really explain it, not even to himself. When Bucky was a young man, fatherhood, or rather the months leading up to it weren’t talked about. Pregnancy in general wasn’t. A woman started getting bigger around the middle and after a few months, there was a baby. Of course he knew it was a little more complicated than that, but he never heard his dad or uncles talk about what they experienced as they waited for the day they’d become someone’s father.

Maybe that’s why he has such a hard time connecting to this whole experience in any other way. His wife is pregnant. They’re having a baby. He’s got that. Hell, they’ve even heard the heartbeat, and there’s a picture stashed in the back of his wallet from that first ultrasound. He loves this kid, who at this point, could fit into the palm of his hand, but since it’s not happening to him, he’s not the one physically going through this, in some ways it’s still distant.

However, the one thing he can do, the one thing that has made it feel more real, like he knows this someone he’s never seen before, is having his hand over where she’s currently residing. He doesn’t know where the exact location is (sure, he’s done googling, and there’s just common sense, but he’s not a doctor), but for a reason he can’t quite work out, it somehow feels like, in that way, he’s in tune with her. She’s tucked away safe already, but he can give her that extra barrier of warmth, and maybe in some untangible way that science can’t explain, love. It’s as close as he can get until she’s here in his arms, and for now, it’ll do.

That’s why, when he becomes half-way conscious, the early morning sun peeking in through the blinds, he doesn’t have to wonder what he’s touching. He already knows. However, this time, there is something different. Moving slowly, trying not to wake his sleeping wife (goodness knows she need the rest; she’s making an entire other person), he readjusts his palm. That’s when it hits him. There’s a certain roundness, a slight firmness, that wasn’t there yesterday. If he had to venture a guess, he’d say-

“Morning, sunshine.” As she says it, she yawns, stretching so that her shirt rides up and he gets a good look. He’s right. That’s exactly what’s going on.

“Not that I don’t enjoy you ogling me, but what’s got your attention?”

Taking a deep breath to try and keep his excitement down, he pulls her just a little bit closer and murmurs. “Doll, I think you’re showing.”

“What?” She’s still sleepy, he can tell from the way her eyelids flutter. “No, I’m just bloated.

“I’m serious. Go take a look in the mirror when you get up.”

“Which will be right now, because…” Feigning an over-dramatic sigh, she extracts herself from the tangle of limbs they’ve formed in their sleep. “… I have to pee for the first of at least thirty times today.”

He thinks about joking that at least it’s not morning sickness (for a few weeks there, she informed him she was going to start just sleeping in the bathroom since that’s where she spent most of her time), but decides that’d probably be a stupid decision. His research had forewarned him that heightened emotions would be a part of this, and so far it hasn’t been too extreme, but there was the one time he came home and found her crying over an ASPCA commercial (it took a solid half-hour for her to completely recover, and when their dog licked her hand later that night, she started tearing up again), so it’s probably best not to risk it.

The toilet flushes, quickly followed by the door reopening, and she appears. He studies her face for any sign of what she might be feeling right now, but comes up empty. Finally, he has to ask.

“So, what’s the verdict?”

She climbs back into bed, rearranging the blankets over her bare legs.

“The verdict is that it’s too damn early to be awake on a Saturday.” Okay, drop the subject. That’s okay. He’ll just work harder on convincing her that she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen until she believes it too.

“And, I think you’re right.” Her hand travels down to the small swell of her middle. “I think I’m showing.”

“Are you…” he’s not sure how to put it. “...do you feel okay about that, Doll?”

She nods, smiling.

“Yeah, I do. In all honesty, it’s kind of a relief.” He frowns, confused. “Well, now I feel a little less awkward. I look less like I ate something funky and now I have bad gas, and more like I’m pregnant.”

Despite his best efforts, he snickers at her description.

“Barnes, it’s rude to laugh at the mother of your child.”

“Really?” He does his best to feign confusion. “Well, is it okay if I kiss her?”

“Nice save.” She leans towards him, pushing a few tray hairs back from his forehead. “And yeah, I think that’s acceptable.” He doesn’t need to be told twice.

It’s a practiced routine at this point. Their lips meet, his arm circling her back, pulling her closer. Her hand travels up his back, tracing lazy patterns, as her heart begins to beat faster against his chest. Someone (he’s never quite sure who) lets out the first telling moan, and then he’s pressing her back against the pillows, hovering over her, fingers toying with the hem of her shirt. Normally this would lead to her shedding it altogether and him following suit, but just as he rucks up the material past her waist, his phone goes off. From the ringtone, he knows it’s Sam. Can’t be ignored, then.

“I swear, he has radar.” She murmurs it against his lips as, with one final peck, he rolls over and sits up.

“That or he’s sitting outside with his binoculars waiting for the worst possible moment to call.” As he says it, he presses the phone to his ear. “What?”

“Good morning to you too.” He almost shoots back that it was gonna be, but swallows it down. “Meet me at the compound in thirty. We’ve got to go. Briefing once we’re in the air.”

“For how long-”

“I don’t know, man. A few days, at least.” It’s silent for a moment then- “If the missus wanted to join us on this one, we could use her.” He glances at the woman in question, now out of bed and going through their shared closet, packing his bag.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. See you soon.” Not waiting for a reply, he hangs up.

“You’re going someplace warm.” As she speaks, she adds a few short sleeved t-shirts to the black duffle bag he always carries when he has to go away. “And from what I saw, you’ll end up using knives as opposed to guns at least once.” Seems like this time around, her visions have decided to be helpful instead of random and vaguely annoying.

She glances back at him over her shoulder, offering him a small smile. “Get a move on, Buck. Sounded like Sam’s not in a mood to wait.” That he can agree with.

By the time he finishes brushing his teeth and making sure his hair won’t fool people into thinking he received an electric shock in his sleep, she’s already got his bag packed, weapons case by the front door, and a breakfast burrito heated up. It’s not the first time they’ve done this; said a hasty goodbye when one or the other of them had to answer the call, but this time as he holds her close and promises, once again, to come back in one piece, he can’t help but feel like he’s doing the exact opposite as what he should. It’s never a matter of wanting to go, wanting to fight. That’s never something anyone wants. But usually, he has a sense of peace about it, like in some small way, he’s making up for all the things he’s done in his past that he wishes he could forget. This time, as he drives himself to the compound, he can’t shake the feeling that the greatest good he’ll ever do in his life is in that townhouse, promising to wait for his return.

The briefing is short. It’s a dangerous situation, one that’ll require their presence for several days, if not a full week, but it’s nothing he hasn’t done before. After all he’s seen, he’ll never take it for granted again that a mission will be routine, run smoothly, but over all, he’s not unduly worried. Sam, however? The man hasn’t stopped frowning since they set foot on the quinjet, and there’s no sign that it’ll let up anytime soon.

Finally, he doesn’t have any other choice. If he doesn’t address the elephant in the room now, it’ll hang over the mission, and that won’t be good news for anyone.

“Say it.”

For a second, he thinks Sam is going to keep mum, but then, with a sigh, he asks,

“Man, what the hell is going on with you lately?” Oh. This again. “I know you said it wouldn’t affect the team, but we’re partners. If there’s something going on in your life that’ll impact how you handle this mission-” He starts to interrupt, but Sam is quicker. “-and don’t give me that bullshit that it won’t, I know a big fucking deal when I see it. I need to know.”

This is it. They’ve had a good run, but this is one secret he won’t be able to keep anymore.

“I get it. Couples split up. Divorces happen.” Wait- “But keeping it to yourself won’t help anything. Plus, since we all know her and work with her-”

“We’re not splitting up.” Never will, if he has anything to do with it.

“Okay, well, marriage troubles are part of things. Maybe you two could try therapy-”

“She’s pregnant, Sam.” So that’s how you make Sam Wilson go dead silent. He’ll have to remember that for future reference (although this seems like something you can only use one time).

“She’s-”

“Yeah.”

“You’re-”

“Not doing much. She’s the one with the hard job.”

Sam’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to get out, “You’re gonna have a baby.”

“Actually, she’s the one-”

“You know what I mean.”

He nods.

“Yeah. We are.”

“Damn.” Sam sinks into the seat next to him. “You’re gonna be a dad. That’s not something I was expecting to hear when I got up this morning.”

He chuckles.

“Wasn’t exactly something we were expecting to hear either, but there it is.” In another four and a half months or so, they’ll be parents.

“So, um-” Sam clears his throat. “-are you guys good? Happy about it and all that?”

“We’re good.” He nods. “Still getting used to it, but we’re good.”

“What about you? Are you happy about it?”

This is one he can answer without any hesitation or second guessing. It’s a simple fact, one he’ll admit every time.

“Yeah. I’m happy.”

#marvel #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #fanfiction #fluff #pregnancy

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sepublic · 4 years

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Amity’s ‘role’ in Luz’s fantasy

So recently I had an epiphany thanks to @lost-gatesofhell, about Luz and her initial interest in Amity. I have to wonder if at first, Luz was partially interested in befriending Amity because it’d be like Azura befriending HER rival... In the sense that she’s trying to live out her fantasies, without considering that Amity is her own person and not a ‘prize’ to be won. I hate to compare Luz like this... but it could’ve been like how Warden Wrath was drawn to the ‘allure’, the IDEA of Eda as someone who was ‘hard to get’, a prize to be won... Of course in Luz’s case, she’s a lot less patronizing and objectifying of Amity, as seen when she respects the girl’s boundaries as soon as they’re set.

Still, there’s this idea that while Luz is working on it, she hasn’t totally overcome her penchant for applying fantasy to real life and projecting her little adventures over what’s actually happening, for the sake of living them out... Obviously she learned her lesson in Episode 2, but like anyone else she’s not perfect and still liable to making the same mistakes from time to time, even if they’re a lot less frequent. Particularly, Luz learned not to expect the Boiling Isles to specifically cater to her fantasies, and to recognize situations for what they actually were. If Luz wanted a ‘magical destiny’ or adventure or anything like that, she’d have to work for it to happen, as Eda suggested.

Of course, while Luz learned not to be entitled nor to expect life to just hand over her fantasies to her, there’s still this expectation and willingness to use Amity to fulfill that enemies to lovers friends trope, under the idea that at least Luz is ‘working’ for it. Luz knew then that things wouldn’t automatically be how she wanted them to be, and that she had to recognize this; But she’s still willing to make them fit her idealized fantasy regardless... Again tying back to what Eda said about having to ‘make your own destiny’, but there’s also the issue of boundaries and limits to be set, especially when actual people are involved.

Sometimes, you just can’t live out your fantasy, period… Nor can you expect reality to change into it, even if you DO put in the work to alter it accordingly. Even if it is possible, is it ethical and worth the effort to steamroll over the autonomy of others, and see them only as tropes and roles to fulfill in your story? Not as people with their own stories? Maybe it’s pointless to try to make up for this by occasionally ‘fulfilling your part’ in another person’s story, because nobody should have to deal with that sort of expectation at all, period! Even if it’s consensual on behalf of both parties, it’s still pretty sus... And it ties into the ideas of the Coven System, of Witches having to fulfill a certain role, be it as the Bard, or the Oracle, or the Illusionist... That you have to stick to a particular trope, that there’s no mixing parts or being creative with this!

Everybody has to be quickly and readily defined by a specific role they can neatly fit into, as ordained by Belos; There’s no room for growing beyond that, save for special people like those who fit into the Emperor’s Coven, the kind who are worthy of being ‘main characters’ in a sense, and thus allowed to be fleshed-out and ‘unique’! Everybody else, though- They’re a side-character, an NPC. It’s like those jokes of friend groups consisting of ‘the smart one’, the ‘funny one’, ‘the jock’, etc., but taken to a dark and far too literal extreme. There’s no room for someone to be the funny one AND a jock, that guy’s already a jock, don’t encroach on other people’s roles, you’ll get distracted from the specific function you have to fulfill!

(There isn’t anything wrong with doing this in writing of course, especially since one is handling fictional characters and not real people; But from an in-universe perspective, these characters ARE actual people to one another. After all, in real life one wouldn’t define someone as JUST a chef, they also have other aspects and interests to their life that aren’t solely related to food! It’s like the revelation that teachers have lives outside of school, or how that person you know on the internet probably has a job unrelated to whatever interest they’re talking about. People aren’t JUST the jobs they do, and it’s unreasonable to expect them to dedicate their entire existence to fulfilling that role. People should have breaks and be allowed to pursue different interests, maybe even leave their ‘job’ if it’s no longer for them. So YES Karen, this person’s job IS to help customers, but that doesn’t mean their entire worth and meaning as a person solely revolves around this, nor should this person be expected to help customers 24/7 when their shift has already ended anyway.)

But back to the subject... Luckily, Luz’s issue with molding reality into her fantasy is confronted and further resolved by Wing it like Witches. And even if Luz was projecting her stories onto Amity a bit in order to live out a ‘rivals to friends’ fantasy... It’s worth noting that Luz was also legit interested in Amity as a friend, too! Not to mention Luz is VERY concerned about earning Amity’s approval in Adventures in the Elements... Maybe part of Luz’s motive is not wanting to mess up with an ‘elusive’ friendship, or that’s what Luz tells herself... But more than likely, it’s indicative of a crush that Luz isn’t aware of. Sadly, this girl hasn’t had enough social interaction to differentiate between plantonic friendship desires and being romantically attracted to an actual peer VS a fictional character!

Which is yet another reason why I love Lost in Language, it’s that Luz was interested in the idea of befriending Amity, of a rival turned friend, rather than just Amity herself... And maybe Amity overheard this when Luz mentioned “First I befriend the siblings, then Amity!” and that contributed to her tomato face of anger- Having the painful barriers she’d erected as a trauma response and the loneliness that came from that being trivialized isn’t great. Amity didn’t appreciate being objectified like that, solely for the emotional barriers she’d set up for a reason. It’s one thing to want to be Amity’s friend the way Boscha and others did- But is Luz really interested in Amity, or just in the idea of her? Is this love conditional on Amity’s social status, which Amity is told is both inherent to her as a Blight, and yet something she has to constantly earn and maintain? Especially the idea of ‘winning’ Amity, that’d be particularly patronizing… But very quickly, Luz remembers that Amity is her own separate individual, who doesn’t exist to fulfill her fantasies.

Luz appreciates Amity as she really is (perhaps not coincidentally after getting insight into the girl’s true personality through her diary entries), which leads to Luz working to protect Amity’s boundaries by keeping her diary from Emira and Edric! There’s the idea of getting to know and appreciate Amity for who she really is, and Luz working to let the girl embrace that part of herself both internally and externally as well... Which again ties back into the idea of projecting the idea/image of fantasies onto someone/something, VS accepting what/who they actually are, and thus appreciating them even more as a result!

Amity, of course, realizes that Luz is genuine and actually wants to know about the person she really is... And she’s baffled. While she was no doubt offended by Luz possibly seeing her more as a trope to fulfill than an actual person, it probably wouldn’t have been anything new to Amity; The idea of others seeing her as a means to an end, given how her own parents and Lilith did the same! Disappointing, but not surprising...

But now it IS surprising, because Luz wants to know about Amity- And she’s not used to good things in life, alas? And how to respond? She’s well familiar with the process of rejecting people, but when it comes to accepting someone- What does she do then? And this plays into Amity’s insecurities and confusion about Luz and how she feels, not wanting to lose a friend, not wanting to hurt them, not wanting to ruin things if Luz wants her only as a friend... Not sure if Luz really means it or not because she’s still insecure, and OF COURSE the idea of a crush, and wondering what Luz could see in someone like her?!

Amity at least better understood Luz’s motives back when she assumed it was just to fulfill her Azura fantasies, because Amity was familiar with those and her own desire for them. But now that Luz has given up on that... Why does she continue to be so interested in Amity, of all people? And even if Luz was still living out her fantasies, what more could Amity accomplish anyway, now that she’s a friend to Luz; Why does Luz continue to express interest in Amity, and be willing to do so much for the girl? Luz already got her Rivals-to-Friends trope in Amity, but she continues to hang out with the girl of her own volition and unconditionally help her; And Amity is possibly freaking out on what Luz’s motives are, even though she at least knows the girl isn’t a bully and means well!

Mostly, I think Amity KNOWS that Luz is interested in being a genuine friend... But she’s still overwhelmed by the idea of someone being romantically interested in her, or at least more interested in Amity as a friend compared to others; Because the girl underestimates her own worth too much, she doesn’t see herself as worth getting to know if she doesn’t specifically accomplish a purpose! Odalia and Alador conditioned Amity to evaluate others based on their usefulness, or else be useful to others... So Amity is wondering what about her is so specifically appealing to Luz, especially when Luz has disregarded all of Amity’s other traits that make her ‘worthwhile’, such as her intelligence, social status, knowledge on magic, etc. The only thing left about Amity, to appreciate... Are the things that define her as individual, not as a Blight or a Top Student! And it’s unimaginable, or at least surreal to the girl, for Luz to be interested in that...

Amity only knows friendship in terms of being ‘useful’ to someone else... Emira and Edric were genuinely interested in Amity as a person, but she’s probably dismissed this as a given since they’re family members, not to mention Ed and Em have admittedly done their part in making Amity doubt how much she means to them. So what does Amity do, when Luz expects nothing of her? No doubt Amity feels like she’s a ‘parasite’, that she’s leeching off of Luz’s good nature and not giving back enough... Maybe she’ll feel like she has compensate for their friendship and justify it, only for Luz to make it clear to Amity that just being with the girl, and seeing her be happy, is all she’ll ever need! And it’ll amaze Amity, and mean so much to her, to realize that she’s inherently worthwhile, and that she doesn’t need to ‘prove’ herself to others in order to be lovable...

TL;DR Luz was initially trying to live out a ‘rivals to friends’ story, but learned not to objectify Amity like this... And when confronted with a growing crush on the Blight girl, Luz possibly assumed she was just relapsing into old habits. But inevitably, Luz is becoming more and more aware of how much she just genuinely likes Amity as a person, no strings attached, that the girl is irreplaceable to her. And when Amity recognizes that there’s no big secret to why she means so much to Luz, other than just being herself, that Luz’s love isn’t dependent on superficial traits that could easily be replicated by someone else, that Amity is irreplaceable to Luz... It’ll do wonders for her crippled self-esteem, as she learns that she doesn’t need to impress people in order to be loved. Amity, as she already is, without having to make any efforts to improve herself, is already worth loving both in the platonic and romantic sense!

As for Luz, well- She didn’t get the fantasy she expected... But she still got to live out a different one. Amity really IS this girl’s fantasy, and this time, I mean it in the best way possible!

#the owl house #owl house #lumity #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house amity #amity blight #speculation

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heyitsani · 3 years

Text

Loving You is a Losing Game Chapter 4

Word Count: 6518

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Character death (applies in this chapter and not overly graphic)

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Summary: The curse takes the payment it demands.

Notes: End of the line, folks! I’m off to work on the other pieces I did for JayDick Week, as well as finish up a few things I have for this month. It’s my birthday in the middle of the month and it’s Pride Month, so good things coming all around!

You can also read it on AO3 here

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The ride to the cave was as silent as Dick had expected it to be, but he couldn’t help but feel it was more because Bruce was trying to figure out how Dick had managed to get out now but not before. And honestly, Dick wasn’t really sure how he could leave now and not before, but he also wasn’t magical. So what did he know about what the curse could do?

“Tim and Damian have been communicating with Constantine about how to possibly break down the wall,” Bruce finally said as they pulled into the secret entrance. “He has been pretty adamant that only the yielder could destroy it though.”

Dick considered that, thinking about the witch who had put Jason in there to begin with. He didn’t even know the reason, Jace having kept the reasoning quiet when Dick had tried to ask. But he wondered if the man were correct in his assumptions. He would know more than Dick would, after all.

“We have to find a way,” Dick finally said. He didn’t know how they would do it, but they had to. He had to get them out of there. He had to. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just walk back through that wall and stay there. “I need to keep a promise.”

“Dick,” Bruce’s voice was sharp when they came to a stop and the engine was cut. Looking over at Bruce, Dick waited. “How did you escape?”

Shrugging a shoulder, Dick looked away. “I don’t know why I could get through this time. I tried before and was stopped. But…” He let out a huff of air through his nose, looking at the approaching forms of his brothers, who wouldn’t be able to see he was in the car through the tinted windows. “We have to get them out of there, Bruce. We have to.”

“That man trapped you there.”

“No,” Dick shook his head. “He’s not…he didn’t do that. There’s some kind of curse over them. And it’s more than just him. There are others there, trapped just like Jace.”

“Jace.”

“The man, that’s his name.” Bruce remained silent, just watching Dick with his blank face before he opened the door and stepped out of the car. With a sigh, Dick opened his own door and climbed out.

“Dick!” Tim’s surprised voice interrupted his thoughts and immediately a smaller body collided with his own. Looking down, he smiled at the familiar sight of Damian with his face buried in his stomach. And soon enough Tim was at his side, giving him a hug.

“Father was successful then?” Damian questioned when he pulled back. Dick ruffled the kid’s hair and smiled sadly. “Richard?”

Looking over at Bruce, he saw the man watching with the cowl pulled down and frown on his face. “No, I was able to get out on my own. It’s hard to explain. But I do think we need to speak with the League,” he said, loud enough that Bruce could hear him clearly.

“Perhaps after a rest, Master Dick?” Alfred approached with a relieved smile. Dick pulled himself away from his brothers and reached over to Alfred to give the older man a hug. “I am so glad to see you are safe, my boy.” The man kept his voice low, but Dick could easily hear the emotion in it. Dick responded with tightening the hug for a moment before pulling back to smile at him.

“We need to go, B. We can’t leave them there. You thought there was a link between the missing heroes and that spot, maybe there is. We can’t do this one on our own just because it’s Gotham.” Bruce’s frown deepened and Dick raised his chin, making it obvious he would go to the League on his own if he needed to. “This is their problem too.”

Bruce seemed to be considering the issue before sighing and turning toward the computer. “I’ll call them to come here to Gotham. We’ll meet them in the city.” Dick nodded and let his body relax a little. He would get Jace and the others out. He would do it even if he had to figure it out on his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt like coming home, standing on the top of Wayne Tower in one of his back up suits, the one with the fingerstripes that he had retired a few years prior, with a domino firmly in place on his face while they waited for the members of the Justice League to arrive. He stood just off to the side of Batman’s stoic figure, Robin on Bruce’s other side and Red Robin behind them on an elevated platform. They made an intimidating group, as the Bats always did, but Dick felt like it was a false face at this point.

He knew Bruce was going to order the Robins to remain in the city to handle the assassins and keep an eye on the city, but that it was going to result in a fight. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to risk the two of them getting caught in something because they didn’t know what would happen if all of them tried to get through the wall of magic at the same time.

Dick hoped it would break under the pressure, but he doubted he’d be that lucky.

“Nightwing!” Superman looked surprised the instant he touched down on the rooftop. “You’re back! We had worried you fell into the same fate as…” Dick gave him a sad smile, thinking of Jon having gone missing a week before Dick had gone to save Bruce. “I am glad to see you are safe.”

Nodding his head, Dick remained silent as the others began to arrive. Wonder Woman and Black Cannery together, Flash moments after Green Arrow and Aquaman. Green Lantern was the last to arrive, gathering Dick up in a fierce hug before Batman barked at them all to come to attention. And Dick straightened his spine at the order, even though he usually balked at being treated as Bruce’s soldier. This time he would relent. This time he would tolerate it because it was important to him.

This time it was about Jace.

“With Nightwing’s return, we have decided it best to call in the League to handle a problem that we are not able to do so on our own,” Batman said, voice flat. Dick knew how much he hated that he was having to ask for help in his city, but deeply thankful that the man was willing to.

He listened to Batman explain to the others what exactly had happened the day Dick had vanished, recounting how Batman had been taken by the shadow man and then how Agent A had called in Nightwing to try and rescue Batman. Bruce kept to the facts, telling them that Nightwing had exchanged himself and then been unable to escape when he had tried a few weeks later.

“So this man is holding everyone hostage in this curse?” A voice that made Dick tense up questioned.

Bruce practically growled. “Deathstroke, what are you doing here?”

But where others would have been intimidated by Bruce’s menacing voice, Slade just smirked and sauntered closer to the group from the shadows he had been hiding behind. “I heard my birdie had finally come home,” he said, looking over at Dick and making the hero roll his eyes.

“Leave, Slade,” Dick said, shaking his head. He knew he would have to face an interrogation after this was all over from Bruce about what Deathstroke wanted with him, but he didn’t want to add more fuel to that fire right then. He had people to rescue.

“I don’t think I will. I think that I have a right to be concerned about the fact that someone I care about went missing for months and now wants to rescue the man who was responsible.” Dick sighed and looked over at Bruce, who kept his face blank but Dick knew him well enough to know he was glowering at Slade. “You do know the term Stockholm Syndrome, don’t you Birdie?”

“That’s not what this is, Slade. You don’t know anything. He’s a prisoner as much as the others are.”

“Is he? Or is that just what he told you after he ‘saved your life’ and caught you in his web?” Shaking his head Dick looked over at the other heroes and noticed they seemed to be considering Slade’s words carefully. He knew he needed to nip this in the bud as soon as possible.

Stepping forward, ignoring the attempt Robin made to grab his arm, Dick moved into the center of the group where Slade was now standing. “Slade doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I was there, I experienced it. Jace is a good man and he’s trapped just like everyone else. And I can prove it,” he said, reaching into the pocket he had stored the vial of liquid Jace had given him and a flimsy silicone bowl he could fold up. Pouring the green glowing liquid into the bowl, Dick tucked the vial away again.

“Nightwing, is that…” Robin’s question faded off and while Dick was tempted to ask him to finish, he focused on the task at hand.

“Show me Jace,” he said, looking at the liquid swirl and shift just as it had when Jace had given him the chance to see Bruce before letting him go. The image of Jace shifting between shadow and man appeared, surrounded by the broken furniture of the room in the West Wing. It made Dick’s heart ache, seeing the sadness on Jace’s face and the destruction around him.

The others gasped, moving in closer to see before Dick found the bowl pulled out of his hands. “This isn’t a man,” Slade said, voice low and disgusted. “That’s not a shadow, that’s a demon!” Dick shook his head and looked at the others to help him out. But Superman and Wonder Woman were looking at Slade with wide eyes and fear laced in anger. “We can’t let this creature out! He’d kill us all!”

“No!” Dick shouted, trying to grab the bowl from Slade but found himself being tugged back. Looking behind him, he found Green Lantern holding onto his upper arm while frowning deeply at Slade. “He’s not a creature. He’s a man. He’s just a man and he needs our help!”

“This doesn’t look like a man, Nightwing. This looks like someone who has possessed your mind and forced you to believe he was good. Why were you suddenly able to get out? Why were you able to after coming to trust him but not before when you were certain it was his fault you were trapped there?” Dick shook his head, hating that Slade was able to twist his words like this. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the truth either. “He wanted you to trust him, to care for him. And now he’s waiting for you to release him onto the world. Well not on my watch!”

“Not on our watch!” Superman said, but Dick could only stare at Slade in disbelief. How did they end up here?

Green Lantern’s hold tightened and before he knew what was happening, Batman, Red Robin, and Robin were all being held by various heroes. “I have a place we can lock these four away so they can’t cause any trouble. Then we can go after this monster and rid the earth of this danger!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck!” Dick growled as he tugged on the door of the cell in whatever random safehouse Slade had locked them in. Why he even had a safehouse with a cell in it to begin with was beyond him, but part of Dick didn’t even want to know what the purpose of it was.

“Dick, stop,” Tim called from the corner where he and Bruce were trying to figure out how to get out of there. “It’s not going to just magically open.”

Releasing the bar, Dick let his shoulders drop with a sigh before turning as he ran a hand through his hair. “I need to get out of here. I have to help Jace. This is all my fault.” He looked at the pair in the corner before looking over at Damian as he looked for weaknesses in the structure of the cell.

“We’ll get you out, but you need to calm down. Freaking out isn’t helping.” Nodding his agreement with Tim’s assessment, Dick dropped down to sit on the ground and watch Damian continue. “We don’t have enough room to blast our way out. We’d get caught in the blast.” Bruce grunted his agreement, but still sorted through the items they had available. None of their lockpicks had worked and Tim made a good point.

“Can we call anyone?” Dick asked, looking over at Bruce and Tim who seemed to be at a loss. “Oracle? Batgirl? Batwoman?”

Bruce shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know where Batwoman is, but the Birds are out of the country.” Groaning in annoyance, Dick pulled his knees up and shoved his face into them. He had no idea how they were going to get out of there and that meant he was helpless to do anything to save Jace and the others. He just hoped the man had the League of Assassins on his side for this.

“Communicators aren’t working any way,” Tim muttered and Dick suppressed the desire to groan again. Rarely did he feel hopeless. Rarely did he feel like there was no chance of getting out of a situation. But right then? With the knowledge that Slade had the Justice League on his side while hunting the man he cared about, maybe even loved? He felt hopeless.

But then the sound of a door blasting open caused him to pull his head out of his knees and look at Bruce. But he found Bruce and Tim both looking beyond Dick. Turning to look behind him, Dick saw the smoke of a bomb having gone off before a man was coming through the cloud with a determined look on his face.

“Agent A!” Dick leapt to his feet and grabbed the bars of the cell.

The elderly man looked them all over briefly before getting to work on the lock of the door. “I was unable to contact anyone to assist, so I came myself,” Alfred said, keeping his focus on the task at hand. “There was no time to waste if you wanted to save your friend.” Alfred spared Dick a glance and Dick sighed. Alfred knew there was more to the situation than just friendship and Dick didn’t know why he was surprised that the man had picked up on that.

“Robins, I want you on the outside as planned. Red Robin from above and Robin on the ground since you know how to handle the footmen,” Batman barked out orders as the click of the lock sounded and the cell door swung open.

“The plane is on the roof,” Alfred said as Dick rushed out of the cell, squeezed the man’s upper arm in thanks before running out of the safehouse to get to the plane. He didn’t need to look back to know that the others would be right behind him. He didn’t have time to worry about whether or not they were there because he had to get to Jace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they arrived at the location, Dick saw chaos. The League of Assassins’ footmen were spread out, fighting the members of the Justice League, but Slade was no where to be seen. And that thought worried him.

“Nightwing wait!” Batman called out as Dick ran out of the plane the moment it touched down, but Dick ignored him. He went straight for the wall of magic, avoiding a kick to the side by a footmen before he was able to start pushing through.

Familiar with the feel of the magic now, Dick almost felt like he was being welcomed home as he broke through and ran for the castle. “Dana! Where are they?” He knew Slade had to have made his way to Jace, but the castle was too big to search on his own. The woman looked at him with wide, surprised eyes, before pointing upward to the roof. “Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing his grapple gun and aiming for a spot not far off from where Jace and Slade were facing off.

His feet had just touched down when he heard the sound of a sword clattering to the ground and found Slade standing in front of Jace with his katana in hand and Jace’s sword off to the side, just out of reach.

“No!” Dick screamed as he surged forward, not pausing to think about the katana soaring through the air toward Jace who had his back against the wall behind him. The only thing he thought of was saving the man from the fate Deathstroke felt he had earned. “Slade-” his voice cut off without his permission when he came to a halt in front of Jace.

There was silence for a moment and time almost seemed to freeze as Dick watched Slade’s eye go wide and Jace gasp behind him. Shifting his gaze from Slade downward, Dick took in the sight of the katana buried in his stomach, frowning in confusion. Surely if it were really in his stomach to the hilt he would feel it, right? But there was nothing.

And then there was too much.

Dick felt himself crumble, only to be caught by the man he had just saved from this very fate, and the sword sliding effortlessly out of his stomach as he went. The sound Jace made behind him was almost inhuman and pained and Dick figured that was when he got a good look at the damage.

“You.” He heard Jace growl before he saw the familiar figure lung over him and grab at Slade. The force of it was enough to surprise the man and just as Dick managed to turn his head to look at the pair, he saw Jace pulling the katana out of Slade’s hands and throwing him off balance enough that the assassin was toppling over the edge of the rooftop they were on.

He watched Jace stand there, breathing heavily for a moment before Dick reached out a hand. “Jace,” he rasped, drawing the other man’s attention. And reality came rushing back to him, Dick could see it in his eyes as he remembered the condition Dick was currently in. The katana fell to the ground with a sharp clang.

“Oh god, Dick,” the man cried out as he ran back over and fell to his knees. Dick let out a grunt when a hand pressed against his chest in order to stem the literal life bleeding out of him. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be you. God, Dick.”

“It’s okay,” Dick whispered, giving Jace a warm smile but it didn’t look like the man appreciated it. It almost looked like it pained him to see it. “You’ll be okay. You’re safe.”

“But you’re not!” The man cried, ducking his head so Dick couldn’t see anything but the top of his head. “The curse wasn’t supposed to take you. Anyone but you.”

Dick furrowed his brows and turned his eyes toward the sky to see the stars blurring. “I’m glad I got to meet you,” he spoke carefully, drawing the familiar green eyes back to his face. Dick let his eyes trace the tears that had already left their tracks down his face and raised a hand to brush some of the wetness away. “Will you tell me now? Your secret?” He kept his hand pressed against Jace’s cheek as he watched the man consider telling Dick the one thing the older man hadn’t been able to pry away from him.

“My name is Jason.”

“I knew a Jason once. I didn’t do right by him. I couldn’t protect him.” Dick let his eyes drift for a moment, remembering the boy who had been undeserving of his anger that should have solely been directed at Bruce. But he had been young, hurt, and stupid. He had been dismissive and then Jason had been dead. Looking back to Jace, he smiled again. “Maybe you were my redemption. I couldn’t protect him, but I was able to protect you.”

There was such profound sadness in Jace’s eyes that Dick wondered if he was saying the wrong thing. But he didn’t have the energy to figure out what that might be. And with a soft sigh, his hand fell away from Jace’s cheek to rest at his side once more. His clock was ticking.

“Dick, Dick,” Jace whispered, pressing a shaking hand to Dick’s cheek and Dick’s eyes fell closed for a moment as he enjoyed the warmth that bled from the hand to his skin. “Dick, look at me.” Blinking his eyes open, he looked at Jace. “My name is Jason Todd.” Dick frowned at that. Had he been cursed to save someone with the same name of the one he had failed? “I was placed in a Lazarus Pit and when I came out, I attacked the a witch in my madness. She put this curse on me and anyone who came close got pulled in by the magic. Until the day someone sacrificed their life to save mine.”

“But…” Dick tried to sort through what Jace Jason was telling him, but his mind felt like sludge. “…you died.”

Jason nodded, the muscles in his jaw working. “I did. And I came back for some reason I’m not sure of. Talia found me and she put me in the Pit. Whatever she had planned was ruined by the witch. But it’s me,” he whispered, picking up Dick’s fallen hand and pressing it over his heart. “It’s me, it’s Jason. You won’t see the curse fall away, but I don’t want you to die without knowing. It’s me and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad I got to love you.”

He wasn’t expecting the sob Jason let out at that, but he was thankful for the press of the other man’s lips to his own. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When consciousness came back to him, Dick found that he was still in the same place he had been when he and Jason had confessed their love. The same place where Jason had revealed what had been done to him and how Dick had managed to reverse the curse when he had put himself between Slade’s katana and Jason’s body.

Taking a deep breath, he jostled Jason who had been silently crying into Dick’s chest as reality came back to him. It was enough to have the man jolt upright and look toward Dick, eyes going wide and a gasp falling from his lips.

“Dick?!”

“There you are,” Dick smiled, taking in the much more familiar face. The curse had obviously fallen away and now Dick could see the man for who he really was. And the familiar turquoise eyes he remembered from before the younger man’s untimely death. But it was the smile that overtook Jason’s face that really drew his attention. Lifting a hand, Dick pressed it to Jason’s cheek and dragged his thumb across the other man’s lower lip. “There you are.”

The laugh Jason let free was wet and Dick took in the tear tracks on his cheeks and the tears that still clung to his eye lashes. But Dick didn’t think the man had ever looked as beautiful as he did right then, with his real face finally revealed.

“Dick!” Turning his head, Dick looked over to see Bruce rushing over to them. When the man fell to his knees beside them, he let out a gasp. “Jason? How…?”

“A curse,” Dick grunted as he nudged Jason to allow him to sit up. Pressing a hand where the wound had once been, Dick noticed that the hole in his suit was still there, along with the blood starting to dry into a sticky substance, but the wound itself had vanished. “And a miracle.” He smiled over at Jason, who turned from glaring at Bruce to turning a gentler look onto Dick.

With shaky legs, Dick let Jason help him stand as he glanced around at the crowd that seemed to be gathering around them. Most faces he wasn’t surprised to see, but then his gaze fell on a few familiar redheads and an amused pair of blue eyes that struck him deep inside.

“How-” He started but stopped, pushing away from Jason’s hold and past Bruce who was reaching for him, probably wanting to be sure he was actually okay. But Dick was more focused on the fact that his missing friends, and all the other missing heroes, were now standing in front of him. Stopping in front of Donna, Kori, Roy, and Wally Dick looked at each of them before glancing back to Jason with a frown. “The curse?” He questioned, locking eyes with Jason who nodded. Turning back to look at his friends he let that final piece slot into place and he finally felt like everything was making sense.

The expressions on Dana’s face that would remind him so much of Donna. The smiles from Kassandra that seemed familiar could easily be seen as Kori’s smiles. Wade’s energy and presence and Ryan’s own brand of stoic observation. It was all so obvious now that he had them in front of him, he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t made the connection before.

“The curse would not have let you figure it out,” a voice called from behind him. And before he knew what was happening, Dick found himself shielded by Jason’s body and one of his escrimas in the man’s hand. “I am not here to harm you, Jason of Gotham. I am only here to retrieve my castle and wish you well. I did not curse you for attacking me that day like you assume. I did it to save you from a future that would have caused you and yours a lot of pain.”

He could see the witch just over Jason’s shoulder, a beautiful woman with an aura that buzzed vibrant energy. It was hard to picture her as the one who had put Jason behind the wall of malicious magic that he had felt. But maybe that had been on purpose. Not that it mattered anymore. It was over. No matter what her reasons were, the curse had been fulfilled.

Dick pressed a hand to Jason’s back, not surprised to feel the tense muscles coiled and ready to attack if need be. He was surprised when the man leaned back into the touch and relaxed just slightly into his touch. He wondered what the future the witch was referring to, but he doubted Jason thought being cursed in time for five years was better than what he would have faced otherwise.

“And now?” Jason questioned.

The witch smiled and waved a hand before vanishing. And with her, the castle went and the group of heroes found themselves standing in the middle of the warehouses that had always been there. Glancing around, Dick tried to get his bearings about him but it was a bit disorienting to be shifted from a castle back to reality in a matter of seconds.

“Are you okay?” Looking over, Dick found Bruce looking at him and then Jason hesitantly. Dick gave a nod and Jason responded with a grunt of his own before turning to look at Dick. Dick placing his hand Jason’s chest and taking a deep breath.

“We owe you an apology, Batman, Nightwing.” Dick looked over at Superman and frowned. “We should not have allowed Deathstroke to manipulate our emotions the way we did.”

And yeah, Dick agreed but could they really be to blame? “You were missing a son, I can’t blame you for being desperate,” Dick offered. And he knew Bruce wouldn’t agree with him, but Dick could understand being desperate to save someone. When Slade had convinced them to go after Jason and the others, Dick had felt that same desperation. He would have done anything to make sure the man didn’t hurt Jason and the others. Even when he didn’t know it was Jason and his missing friends. But now that he did, he understood even more.

“Still.”

“Just get out of my city and we can forget it ever happened.”

Jason let out a snort and Dick smile up at him. “Good to know that hasn’t changed.” And Dick couldn’t help but chuckle at that, because it’s not like he was wrong.

Once the others had been seen off, Dick taking a few extra moments to hug and speak with his friends who had been with him the whole time, Dick found himself standing near the batplane with Tim and Damian already on and Bruce making his way on. Looking at Jason, Dick tried to figure out what the man was thinking.

“You okay?”

Jason didn’t look away from the plane he had been staring at since they had approached it. Dick didn’t know what to make of the expression the other man wore, but he wondered if he would be able to read Jason the way he had tried to read Jace.

“I don’t know that I belong there anymore.” Dick frowned, placing a hand on Jason’s cheek to try and draw Jason’s gaze from the plane back to him.

Dick waiting for the familiar sea blue eyes to look at him before speaking. “You belong with me,” he offered, quirking an eyebrow. It was mostly a joke, but still true at the same time. And going by Jason’s snort of laughter, it achieved it’s task of distracting him from whatever thoughts he had rushing through his head. “We don’t have to stay at the Manor. I can take you to my apartment in Bludhaven or drop you off at one of my safehouses in Gotham. It’s your call. No one expects anything from you.”

Jason swallowed hard and Dick let his thumb caress the skin of Jason’s cheek as the man attempted to come to a decision or even just digest the situation. Dick couldn’t blame him in the least. Jason had died. He had been taken from them and then he had been thrown into the curse the instant he had been allowed to come back to himself.

Which was something Dick was desperate to ask about, but would save those questions for another time.

“I want to see Alfred, but I can’t stay at the Manor. I…” Jason pinched his brows and Dick waited. “I’m not ready for that.”

“Where can I take you?”

The pause Jason took to make his decision weighed heavy on Dick, not sure if he was about to be turned away or not. “Your apartment is good. I just need time.” Dick nodded and accepted it without question. Jason wasn’t telling Dick he wanted to be alone, but he also wasn’t saying what he expected to happen between the two of them from this point on either.

It was enough, for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For two weeks the pair found a balance that was something like the one they had had at the castle. Dick went out every night as Nightwing and Jason listened in on his comms while he filled himself in on everything he had missed over the five years he had been gone. He learned that Batman had never taken out the Joker after he killed Jason and while Jason was angry and hurt over that fact, he knew if he had learned that when the Pit Madness was still heavy, he probably would have been murderous. Especially toward Tim, who he found out had technically been his replacement even if the kid hadn’t really given them a choice in the matter.

Jason could respect that.

He also learned about Damian, Bruce’s son with Talia, and Jason explained to Dick that it was Talia who had found Jason after he had dug himself out of his grave. Dick relayed the information to Bruce and the man had remained silent before vanishing for two days and Damian telling Dick that apparently his mother was not welcome in Gotham any longer.

When Dick had asked Bruce about it, the man simply said that they had gotten lucky that the witch had been there when Jason came out of the Pit. But without more, Dick had no idea what to make of that. So he just let it die.

When Jason found out Dick had killed the Joker and Bruce had brought him back to life, Dick had found himself pressed into the wall and Jason’s mouth hot on his. It wasn’t their first kiss (the one while Dick had been dying didn’t count to either man), that had come the night he and Dick had dragged themselves into Dick’s apartment after having spent hours telling Bruce the full story of what had happened in the castle the months Dick had been trapped and the years Jason had been. But this was the first one that was more than just a simple brush of lips against each other.

This one had purpose.

He had been so caught up in the feeling of Jason’s body pressed against his own that he had just let the man do with him as he pleased. And when Jason had finally pulled back, both of them were panting and achingly hard in their pants. Jason had told him he wasn’t ready to go further just yet and Dick had accepted it without question, never needing to hear “no” twice.

“I think I want to come up with a new persona,” Jason had said one night while Dick was cleaning his gear and Jason was making dinner. Dick looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise and needing a moment to fully digest what it was Jason was talking about. Bruce had been working on bringing Jason back from the dead legally, but Dick had a feeling that wasn’t what he was referencing.

Putting down his grapple gun, Dick turned his full attention onto Jason. “Did you have something in mind?”

Jason shrugged and went back to the taco meat he was making. “Red Hood,” he muttered and Dick tried to think of why that sounded so familiar.

“Like what Joker used to call himself?” He asked when it finally clicked. Jason glanced at him over his shoulder and seemed to be searching for something in Dick’s expression before looking away again. “Jay?”

“I just…” The man sighed and turned off the stovetop before turning to face Dick fully. “I think that if I hadn’t been cursed, I would have come back with vengeance on my mind. I think that’s what the witch meant by sparing me from a future that brought pain. I would have hated Bruce, I would have hated you.” Jason gave him a sad smile and Dick nodded in understanding. “But that didn’t happen. And now I have options I wouldn’t have had.”

“And where do those options take you?”

He watched Jason purse his lips before smiling. “To the place where I could be considered Nightwing’s partner? In more ways than one?”

Dick considered the implication of Jason’s words. He wasn’t just asking to work with Dick to clean up Bludhaven. He wasn’t just offering to be Nightwing’s partner. He was asking to be Dick Grayson’s partner as well.

“And if I agree?”

“We ask Bruce to stop trying to bring Jason Todd back to life and bring Jason Peters to life instead.” Because the world would frown upon adoptive brothers being in a relationship, even if they hadn’t seen each other in years. But Dick Grayson could be with a man who had no links to Bruce Wayne whatsoever. And while Dick wouldn’t mind if they just never made any public appearances together, he also knew he didn’t want to hide Jason away. “So what do you say?”

Focusing back onto Jason when the man’s hesitant voice sounded, Dick stared at him for a moment. The Dick found himself slipping off his barstool and rounding the island that separated him and Jason. He slotted himself against the other man easily, as if they were jigsaw pieces coming together, and wrapped one arm around Jason’s waist and the other hand gripping the back of his neck. “I say ‘Welcome to the world, Jason Peters’.”

The smile Jason gave him was practically blinding. And Dick didn’t regret anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look fine, stop it,” Tim complained as Dick stopped to look at himself in the reflection of a window one last time as they approached the ballroom. The gold suit jacket was a little more flashy than he usually went but it was special. And Bruce had only huffed in mild annoyance when Dick announced that it was what he would be wearing. “I should have let Damian deal with you,” he grumbled as they stopped at the doors and Dick fidgeted with his tux one more time. “You and Jason have been dating for months, the public already knows this. Why are you freaking out?”

“Because,” Dick answered lamely. He didn’t actually know why he was nervous. Tim was right, the public had known about him and Jason as soon as Jason Peters had been brought to life. They had been to charity events, fancy dinners, even just regular dates around Gotham and Bludhaven. The public had taken the news of Richie Grayson being off the market well and hadn’t tried to drag Jason through the dirt as much as Dick had originally worried. But this was the first time they would be attending a Martha Wayne Foundation gala together and it felt different.

It felt important.

Because this was the one gala a year that Bruce took personally, and they all did their best to make sure it went off flawlessly. Sure there were the occasional issues, it’s Gotham after all, but that wasn’t something you could predict. Everything else, they could make sure went smoothly.

“Ready?” A familiar voice spoke up from behind him and Dick turned to find Jason standing behind him with Damian at his side. Smiling, Dick allowed himself a moment to admire Jason in the familiar blue suit that he had worn that night they had had their first date. The night that had sent them running full steam toward breaking the curse. The night that had changed everything.

“I am now,” Dick responded, taking the arm Jason offered.

Jason gave him a wide smile of his own before looking at Tim and raising a brow. “Well, let’s get moving Replacement.” Dick laughed when Tim let out a huff of annoyance before pushing open the double doors so they could make their entrance.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #beauty and the beast au #bruce wayne #slade wilson #jla members #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #teen titan members #anikah writes

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