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darling-i-read-it · 9 months

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Convenience and Desire

Johnny Cage x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: heavy allusions to smut (eventual smut basically but i got lazy)

Author’s Note: i main kitana cause she’s powerful and beautiful and a good leader and intelligent. But beside her i play johnny because he’s hot and dumb and i love him with my whole heart.

Summary: You and Johnny work together often and go to blow off some steam.

Song: unironically listened to hey baby by pitbull while writing this. feel like johnny would be proud

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif) (can't wait to play this little guy right here even though dilf johnny has my entire soul)

Johnny Cage’s smile was infectious. The way it curved was practically a trademark. It was shiny like a cartoon, almost too good to be real. He tossed it at oncomers, at girls who even half looked his ways, at people who could potentially elevate his status, at DJ’s who played songs he liked.

It was annoying.

You stood beside him, not sure how you had gotten caught up with him. Raiden had assured you that you were both some of Earthrealms best fighters, even if there was a bit of a personality shift. You weren’t sure how one ‘saving the world’ mission had turned into two, which turned into three. Eventually someone decided you worked well together and you were constantly shoved into the same space. When had convenience become necessity?

Johnny smiled at Liu Kang, who returned it with a gentle gaze. Why couldn’t you have been paired together with someone like Liu? He could forever pine after Kitana and you would work well together.

“Are you even listening?” You were broken from your thoughts by Kung Lao. His voice cut through your annoyance, making you snap out of it.

“Yes. Yeah, sorry.”

“Geez and usually I’m the one who doesn’t know how to listen.” Johnny nudged you. You couldn’t even muster an eye roll. Your smile is distracting Johnny. Even the thought made you gag. When had convenience become desire?

“Thank you for your help,” you finally said, ignoring Johnny. “We couldn’t have done it without you. Your assistance is always greatly appreciated.”

“We could have done it without you but that would’ve taken too long,” Johnny quipped. You ignored him. Liu smiled gently and nodded once.

“It’s always a pleasure to work with you Y/N. Are you both heading back home after this?” You nodded, finally glancing at Johnny.

“We should. I have to report back to Raiden on all of this and I’m sure you two have lives to get on with. Plus, Johnny has an early bedtime.” He snorted.

“I’m glad you were able to reach us in time. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else,” Kung Lao said. His voice had more of an edge to it. You knew Kung Lao less well than you knew Liu Kang. You tended to stray from the vastly magical aspects of earth realms defenders. “Do you read him a bedtime story too?” he quipped.

“You all are acting like I didn’t help out there,” Johnny argued. He took his sunglasses off, revealing his eyes. He cleared his throat, like he was going to say something fancy. “Personally, I plan to celebrate our win. I know I’m going to drag her with me, you guys wanna come?”

“Where are you going?”

“Dunno. Bars. Clubs. Wherever there’s drinks, music and ladies.” You closed your eyes hard and shook your head. You would have put your fingers to your temple if you wanted to be any more stereotypical and feed into Johnny’s cartoonish personality.

“Probably not the best idea for a bunch of people with superpowers to get drunk,” Liu commented. You snorted and the tension of the fight officially dissipated. There was quiet laughter coming from the two in front of you, usually on the heroic stoic side.

“Just us two then!”

“Who says I’m coming?” you questioned. He rolled his eyes, gesturing for you two to head back home. You had the ability to conjure portals to any place you knew of. It came in handy when getting out of sticky situations, from which there always were some with Johnny.

“We should bar hop in Ireland,” he suggested.

“I’ll see you guys around,” you finally said. They nodded, ghosts of smiles on their faces. You turned around and Johnny stepped aside, allowing you to lift your hands. You had no interest in going to Ireland, where you were fairly sure it was early morning anyway. Instead you opened the portal to a place Johnny knew well; the streets of Hollywood.

“Fuck yeah!” he exclaimed. “You’re the best babe.” You rolled your eyes and let him walk in ahead of you. Liu Kang and Kung Lao watched as you entered your own portal and then it closed shut behind you, leaving only a faint singe in its wake.

“Are they together?” Kung Lao asked. Liu narrowed his eyes and shrugged.

“I’m actually not sure.”

“I didn’t think they were but I kind of think they might be.”

“Yeah no, I could definitely see it.”

“Maybe we should have gone clubbing with them.”

“Could’ve been educational.”

Thankfully for Johnny, most of his fighting clothes could double as clubbing clothes. As he emerged from your portal he was in the thick of LA foot traffic and he fit right in. You on the other hand looked a little out of place with your padded armor and knives at your side. Though thankfully, most people seemed too drunk to care.

“I’ll come pick you up at 4am?” you questioned. He shook his head.

“Oh c’mon,” he said. He walked up to you and he had to get close because you could barely hear him over all the commotion. “Loosen up.” You looked in his eyes that were usually shaded by his sunglasses. It was a nice change of place to see that movie star complexion up close and not covered in blood. Though you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good after a fight.

“Just for a little bit.”

“That’s the spirit.” His voice was low and sultry. If he knew how to do anything it was to seduce a woman and you knew that. You knew Johnny Cage better than most. He gestured for you to follow him through the crowd. “I know this place like the back of my hand. I used to live down here after auditions.”

“How long were you auditioning unsuccessfully?” you teased.

“Not as long as most.” You walked closely behind him. People were rushing by, wearing barely any clothing, laughing with their friends. You admired their carefree nature. Johnny’s shiny jacket fit in perfectly in the sequined crowd. You pushed yourself against him when others tried to get between you and he made no snarky comment like you expected.

Finally he made a sharp turn. You looked up at the name of the place but you only saw long loopy bright letters. You half thought he had brought you to a strip club when he got to the door. You noticed the line that wrapped around the corner.

“Johnny, there’s a line,” you said.

“They know me.”

You rolled your eyes. Always with that mentality. He approached the bouncer.

“Hey,” he exclaimed, enunciating the y. “Mark, right? How’s the wife?” You expected the angry answer that always came after Johnny asked about someone's wife.

“Hey man!” the bouncer said, giving him one of those bro handshakes you could never understand. “Where you been?”

“Not doing many movies,” Johnny admitted. “Too busy saving the world and whatnot.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool. Go on in man, it’s nice to see you.” You tried to suppress your surprise. You started to walk forward but the bouncer stopped you before you could.

“She’s with me.”

“A little different than your usual crowd huh Johnny?”

“She’s better than them,” he said and it even sounded like he meant it. The bouncer's gaze followed you as you walked past.

You emerged in the club. Clearly exclusive but large. There were two floors and the one you were on was filled with staggering people. Music blasted. You couldn’t locate the speakers but they had to be close with how aggressive they were on your ear drums. You stuck close to Johnny as he weaved through, saying hi to people as he passed.

Your place had always been the fight. This was clearly Johnny’s place.

He turned back to you.

“Pretty cool huh?”

“Not bad Cage. Not bad.” He smiled back at you. He approached the bar area. It was a clear table that was glowing from the inside. He found an easy place to order and he did it for both of you. He had gone with you to a bar or two. He knew your tastes.

Drinks came quickly. He put it on his tab.

He leaned his back against the table, handing you your glass. You took it.

“So this is your world?”

“Yes ma’am. Thoughts? Concerns? Comments?” You looked around. People were high or drunk or happy. You had left the war and blood outside. For now, there was only every form of ecstasy that man could come up with.

“I can understand why you like it.”

“And…”

“And I like it. Is that what you wanna hear?” You took a sip of your drink. He took a drink of his as well, narrowing his eyes on you. You and Johnny had spent so much time together on the field. Usually the occasional drink was limited to both of you being exhausted. You suddenly felt like you had just woken up rejuvenated.

“That is what I wanted to hear. Thank you.” The pulse of the club felt aggressive. They were playing some shitty Pitbull song that everyone got excited to hear. “You ever wonder why Raiden set us up together?”

“In the working capacity? Yeah, I do.”

“Got any working theories?”

“You needed a babysitter and I’m patient.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Your lips turned into a smile. His movie star grin had returned, the one that looked so easy to kiss. “Eyes are up here sweetheart.” You met his gaze. He was starring.

“Wanna dance Cage?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” You took off your jacket and tossed it on the bar table. You had replacements lining the walls. With it off it revealed your arms and the tightly woven fighting armor you kept. It was thinner than it should be but you didn’t need the protection. Johnny watched your back as you walked to the dance floor. You took your hair out of its tight updo that was keeping it out of your face. It fell and you brushed your hands through it, smoothing it out.

The lighting was lower there. People’s bodies were melding together, kissing but not knowing whose lips were on the other end. You didn’t even bother looking around. The music that had been pounding in your head since you walked in was now against your chest. Johnny was swaying and you didn’t even notice you were too. He put his hands on your hips and you didn’t stop him. You put your arms over his shoulders, straightening them out so that your fingers were clasped together. Your torsos were flush, glued to each other.

The tension of the day's battle loosened in your shoulders. You were bruised but not broken. You were safe, here, with Johnny. In the middle of the dance floor without a thought in your head other than his eyes. You wished he had left his jacket behind as well but you knew he was too materialistic for that. Your smile looked drunken but your head was clear.

When had convenience become need?

Johnny pushed you closer. Now your bodies were together, dancing together, a sly smile on his face. You brought your hands down, against his chest and then around his torso, beneath his jacket where he wasn’t wearing a shirt. It was his problem he never seemed to wear armor to a fight.

He had goosebumps. You smirked. When you looked at his face you noticed his eyes had traveled south from your lips.

“Eyes are up here Cage,” you teased. He snapped back up.

“You wanna be real classic and go to the bathroom?” he questioned. You rolled your eyes. He pressed you even closer to him, if that were at all possible.

“What, you don’t have your own hotel room upstairs or something?” His movie star grin came in full force. “Raiden’s gonna kill us.”

“Raiden’s gonna kill you. He knows I make bad decisions.” His head dipped, slipping his lips onto yours. You were actually taken aback. His lips tasted like chapstick and beer. You put your palms flat against his back and then scrunched your hands so that your nails dug into his skin.

It hadn’t occurred to you until then that Johnny was nearly indestructible. The thought was alluring.

His lips left yours. You had stopped dancing to kiss him. The music seemed to muffle.

“That okay?” he whispered.

“Perfect.”

“Good. Been wanting to do it for a minute.” You grabbed his arm and turned back to the crowd. He pouted as his hands left your body. You dragged him through the crowd, weaving through the other people having the time of their lives. “Bathrooms the other way.”

You finally came to a space that wasn’t completely filled with people. You stopped abruptly and Johnny ran into you. You lifted your hands in a formation he knew well. He didn’t even try to hide the smirk when the portal opened revealing his own room. He walked in before you and you followed, leaving only a soot behind.

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x fem!reader #mortal kombat imagines #johnny cage fanfiction #mortal kombat fanfiction #spicy tag

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andy-wm · 5 months

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Please love me is Jimin's line today

The hardest few seconds for me to watch, were these...

Jimin was absolutely dreading appearing on screen without his trademark beautiful hair.

We know he left it as late as he could and didn't want to show anyone.

He looked like he was barely holding it together when he called attention to his hair being shaved. He must have genuinely been scared of the reaction he would get, even from Kook.

"It looks good on you"

Jungkook, you absolute fucking LEGEND 💜

He knew exactly what to say.

When Jungkook told Jimin he looked good (even with no hair) Jimin turned his face away <those feels choking him up> and when he turned back, the almost desperate look of gratitude mixed with relief was so clear.

Please love me is Jimin's line today.

This is not about vanity, ego or pride.

It brings home how fragile his confidence is. His need for approval and the assurance of being loved is strong. It’s so heartbreaking, but we know he hasn't had an easy road.**

Thankfully he did stand a little bit taller once JK reassured him...

But it wasn't an easy moment for Jungkook either.

Whether because he had to witness Jimin's fear and could do nothing more than pet his head, or because he was facing his own misgivings (probably both) he looked equally lost in that moment.

Remember that these boys have left their home once before and journeyed to a place that was less than welcoming. They've had to face the grim, disproving faces of unkind critics and a system that didn't support or value them.

I don't doubt there were echoes of that feeling on this day, that same sense of trepidation they've known before.

We know how the military treats men like them.

And then...

we got this:

You can take the boy out of Busan but you can't take Busan out of the boy.

(People say this about my home town too...)

The shadow of fear is still there in his eyes but.... he looks like a (very hot) backstreet thug who will absolutely fuck you up no questions asked.

It does occur to me that MS might be the reason Jimin has been learning to fight.

I mean really learning to fight.

Yes he's probably doing boxing too but i suspect something more than that ... you shouldn't get torn knuckles from boxing lessons unless you aren't wrapping your hands properly, just saying.

If all else fails (words before fists, right?) I hope he can handle himself.

If he must defend himself, and someone (not him) looks like they've had a close encounter with his fists, I saw nothing.

I hope for both of them, their background will serve them well. In any case they will support one another and their love will see them through this. It's exactly why they are enlisting as companions.

🐰🐥

This is no easy journey, for these young men (all seven of them) or for their families, their friends, and their loved ones. Yes, it's reality of life for every person in Korea, but that doesn't make it easier when it's YOU or YOUR person who is going away.

I am seeing them off with an in ache in my chest - I know we all are. But I'm toasting their successful military service, and their quick return.

짠 지민아, 정국이! We love you 💜💛

See you soon, Angels.

** 'Hurry up and be me soon' ...

Some of us know how much it costs to put our authentic self out into the world. The sacrifices you have to be willing to make are huge. You're not only exposing your own vulnerabilities, but the flow on effect for your family and friends is real.

It's a long journey to self love and acceptance...

We know Jimin has been through a number of iterations of himself. He's been through the tough guy phase, the closed book, the siren, aloof and sophisticated, and the gently feminine.

The image he presents to the world is as much a construct as any person's is - and whether you're aware of this or not, all our public selves are social constructs.

"One size does not fit all" for queer people

For cis gendered heterosexual people, society has a few different ready-made constructs you can adopt, and the rest of society automatically understands the message you're sending. Most of them maintain the status quo of heterosexual cultural norms.

For anyone who DOESNT fit those norms, it's honestly never going to feel good expressing an image that isnt really you. Its like trying and make your circle self fit in a square box.

But theres nothing else that's readily available...

You really have to construct your public image from scratch.

When you aren't part of that typical demographic, figuring out how you want to be seen by the world can be an arduous and complex process.

How much do you reveal? How much do you risk?

You'll experiment with styles, behaviours, and social groups until you find a safe space you can occupy.

Jimin's safe space is with ARMY or his members, but it requires looking perfect.

Think about Jimin's hesitance to appear on camera without makeup. How carefully he chooses his clothes - whether for airport appearances, stage performance or out on the street. He usually has a team of people making sure he looks perfect. His hair is a trademark feature. It's always beautiful.

Remember that he's used to EVERYONE LOOKING AT HIM, ALL THE TIME.

Imagine how it feels to go out in public - against your will - with a shaved head.

Without hair, he would have surely felt naked. Plus, he's no longer in the safe embrace of ARMY, and his buffer of security and managers keeping him out of danger is gone.

He's immensely famous, but not universally loved (don't even go there) and bald, and small, and an IDOL, and very gay ... lets go with unlikely to be heterosexual.

No wonder he was feeling vulnerable.

Ngl, it broke my heart to see him so afraid but I'm sure he'll have a substantial group of supporters around him. I can only hope.

💜💛

#jeon jungguk #park jimin #jikook #kookmin #국민 #true love #bts enlistment #jikook enlistment

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jagwis · 8 months

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Down the Undercroft

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

word count: 4,103

summary: You decide to learn the Unforgivable Curses. You're lucky that Sebastian agrees to teach you. You're unlucky that he has special teaching methods. Seems like a bad idea to voluntarily climb into a snake's lair after all.

warnings: slight dubcon (completely con later), manipulation, unresolved sexual tension, spicy things (e.g. biting, kissing, pinning against the wall), mature language + canon divergence in using crucio, because i had to joke about microbes guys.

a/n: Reader is Ravenclaw, because i had a certain prompt in my head and it didn’t work for badgers, snakes and lions. although apart from one phrase in the fic, where it is mentioned that the Reader is a Ravenclaw, you will not find faculty mentioned anywhere else. no use of Y/N, no description of reader. also Sebastian and Reader are in their seventh year and over 18, i am NOT dealing with underage.

okay, burning question now: once again falling for Slytherin boys are we?

"I never said I didn't want to learn the Unforgivable Curses." It comes off your tongue a little rougher and sharper than you'd like. Anger at Sebastian and frightened Ominis’ voice still press on your thoughts from the inside, entangling them in a furious fog and coloring intonation in displeased tones.

Sebastian freezes as he almost reaches the exit of the undercroft. When he slightly turns his head in your direction, his eyes glow with triumph.

"Is that so?" Sallow's honey-sweet words cut your ear with your favorite and hated smug intonation.

When you don't reply to his remark, Sebastian turns away from the door completely and, judging by his undisguised smirk, you realize that it's too late to back out now. You are trapped between a Slytherin whose self-satisfaction ripples around like incense in the Divination class, and between a cold dark undercroft. Oh, about that. You are in the undercroft where no one can find you, just asked Sebastian Sallow to teach you the Unforgivable Curses. Great.

While gloomy thoughts swarm like glumbumbles around your mind, Sebastian pulles out his wand and slowly approaches.

"Wipe your trademark grin off your face." You wince in displeasure when your words only make Sallow's lips stretch further. "I've always said it's wrong for professors to forbid us from learning any spells. Besides, I learned Confringo with you, didn’t I?"

"That you did." Sebastian's left hand rests on his hip, while the fingers of his right twirl the wand lazily. "However, Blasting Curse is nothing compared to the spells that torture, command and kill on the spot. Blowing up an opponent is slightly more humane than torture to death, don’t you think?"

Sallow takes another step forward, his voice becoming a conspiratorial whisper. You feel your body stiffen in response to his closeness. He never missed an opportunity to play with you a little, but never did he violate your personal space before.

"And certainly far more merciful than forcing someone to kill themselves... No?" Sebastian's breath tickles your forehead as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear. "With their own hands preferably." Sallow straightens up, putting back a saving distance between you. He's still annoyingly close, but at least not in his I-have-no-idea-what-we're-doing-standing-so-close-but-you-will-think-about-this-at-three-am position anymore.

"Very funny." From the narrowed laughing eyes opposite, you understand that your confusion from his actions cannot be hidden by faked confidence. The step back that you take to maintain this very confidence only amuses him more.

"You are well informed that Rookwood and Ranrok are looking for me. Runs in the name, I guess." You comment as you roll your eyes, causing Sebastian to chuckle. "I need these curses for self-defense."

Sallow raises his hands in mock surrender. "It's not for me to judge, love. But what should I say to Ominis? Poor thing thinks you're the voice of reason in our trio, you know."

"We have already discussed the use of pet names." You cast a disapproving look at highly pleased Slytherin. "And I won't lie to Ominis or hide anything from him. I just don't want you to make him do something against his will."

"Fair enough. He didn’t complain much before you joined our humble company, though."

"I do not want to know." You cut off, shaking your head. "Now, would you be so kind as to teach me curses already? Unlike some, I have a lot to do."

"Oh, don't I know it. I have to do half of these doings of yours, love." Sebastian tosses his wand to his other hand, moving behind you. Some strange inner voice is screaming at you that losing sight of Sallow is a bad idea. You tense up, already turning, when two hands are being firmly placed on your shoulders, holding you in place.

"What…" You start half annoyed, half wary, the undercroft’s shadows and the fact that no one can help you here suddenly act somber on you.

"Unforgivable Curses are dangerous even while they are being mastered." Sallow's voice, deeper and more serious, sends goosebumps through your body. "We wouldn’t want anything to go wrong, would we?"

When you don't answer, the long fingers tighten slightly on your shoulders, pressing down on your muscles.

"We would not." Understanding the hint instinctively, you answer, the grip on your skin loosening at your words. His one hand remains on your shoulder while the other begins to slide down your forearm. You freeze, concentrated on the touch. Through the thin fabric of your shirt, warm from the heat of your body, you can feel the coldness of five fingertips slowly rolling down your arm.

You think you can hear Sebastian swallow as he reaches your rolled up sleeve at the crook of your elbow, lingering there.

"Good. It would be a shame to kill you here." A small shiver runs through you as you hear the change of his voice. Sebastian sounds muffled, guttural. You'd give anything just to see the look on his face right now, to understand a little bit about what's going on.

"Speaking truthfully, I entertain the thought that we could do far more enjoyable things down here than putting you into danger."

You don’t have time to analyze his words, because all your attention is captured again by the movement of his hand, which overcomes the threshold of your sleeve and touches your bare skin.

A quiet sigh escapes your lips, to which Sebastian reacts instantly, pressing his fingers tighter, sliding them down to your wrist and wrapping around it.

You let him raise your hand to a chest level, align it to the position he wants. A huge question mark burns in your mind like a red neon sign.

"Does misleading me count as a part of your teaching methods?" Your voice sounds quieter and more intimate than a few minutes ago. Sebastian responds in the same velvety tone, and his lips are much closer than you initially thought, giving consideration to your hair, moving under his breath. This thought occupies you so much that you almost miss his answer.

"Am I misleading you?"

"With your actions. You are irrational." Your answer is intended to prick Sallow, but even without seeing you and your puzzled eyes, Sebastian perfectly feels the slight trembling of your wrist, securely hidden in his palm.

"On the contrary." Sallow removes his other hand from your shoulder and you feel your wand being deftly fished out from behind the bosom of your clothes. "I'm very sagacious when it comes to what I need. What I want."

Your wand settles with its usual weight in your hand when Sebastian offers it to you and slightly corrects your posture again, one hand holding yours with the wand clamped in it.

"The truth is, when I set a goal or, Merlin forbid, desire something." Sebastian tilts his head to the side, scratching your ear with his breath. "Rationality is my strongest trait."

You try to move away from Sallow, his captivating voice intoxicates you better than the Imperio Curse. Sebastian allows you to win a few tens of saving centimeters between you, while not letting you to pull your hand out of his.

"The first spell is the Cruciatus Curse. I do believe you know what it does. Always hold your wand steady or it might ricochet back at you."

Sebastian controls your hand and repeats the right movement several times before releasing your wrist from his grip.

"The main idea with Unforgivable Curses is the wizard's willpower. For the curse to work, you have to mean it."

You take a few deep breaths in and out, trying to urgently put your thoughts in order and focus. The lack of concentration after your impromptu hug with Sebastian, your friend and fellow student, is indeed dramatic. However, your talent for sorcery helped you get out of many other complex situations, so on the third breath you mentally call on all known wizards, wave your wand and firmly say: "Crucio."

A red flash erupts from the end of your wand and crashes into the stone wall of the undercroft, certainly dooming the several billion microbes that live on it to eternal suffering.

"Well done." Resounds behind you. "You looked so confused that I was ready to drag you to the Hospital Wing."

You are about to turn around and make a couple of flattering comments about your confusion and its reasons, but Sallow is quicker. Wrapping both arms around your waist, he presses his whole body against your back.

For a few seconds, both of you keep deathly silence. You, because Sebastian smells so damn good of sandalwood, probably after sitting through the Potions class before you met in the undercroft. Sebastian is silent because, knowing you, he is seriously taking in consideration how to avoid you practicing Crucio on him for all his antics today.

"Sallow." Your voice seems to be trembling, but because of the ringing in your ears, you can't tell for sure. "What the fuck."

Sebastian clicks his tongue in disapproval and rubs his cheek against the top of your head. "We're not finished." He purrs, breathing in the scent of your hair.

Without letting you go, his hand is again on yours and puts it in the right position.

"Next is the Imperius Curse." Sebastian rests his head in the hollow between your neck and shoulder. "It will allow you to force anyone to do what you want." Sallow shows you the right move but doesn't pull away this time.

"Sebastian." Your voice sounds almost pleading, to which he hides a chuckle, pressing his lips to your shoulder. "I- I can't cast it until you-" Your voice cracks, you clear your throat several times.

"Couldn’t care less." Sallow whispers, leaving dry kiss, a quick stroke of lips, on your neck. "The next curse is Avada Kedavra."

He supports you by the waist, the toe of his boot pushes your feet apart.

"This spell also needs a special posture."

"Sebastian." You speak louder, panic and arousal roll up to the bottom of your stomach at the same speed. Your fingers are cold, your cheeks are burning, heart is beating wildly in your chest. "Stop."

"Why would I do that?" Sallow runs his nose up your neck, stopping his lips at your ear, exhaling into it with a chuckle. "I can feel your pulse from the start of our little talking, silly. Your heart has been racing ever since."

"So what? Maybe I'm just scared by your growing insanity."

"You of all people should not be afraid of my insanity. You should be entirely and completely blamed for it."

You abruptly pull yourself out of his embrace, wasting no time turning on your heels and finally finding yourself face to face with Sebastian Sallow. The first thing you notice is his wand lying at his feet. He probably dropped it at some point, because he was too busy with what else (who, rather) could get into his hands.

Studying Sallow's face, you need a few seconds to recover and just enjoy the view in front of you.

Sebastian looks utterly smitten. He’s all fast breaths, eyes lidded in gaze of a pure bliss, pupils dilated, lips parted. His chest rapidly heaves, as if he’s trying to control his every breath through force. His fingers, nervously clenched into fists, tremble, like the fact that you have slipped out of his grip causes him almost physical pain.

The sudden realization of your power over him blooms in your chest with warm pleasure. You run your tongue over your lips, trying to make the final decision for yourself whether you want to be here, now, with him. Sebastian's gaze immediately jumps to your lips and fixates on them, the edge of his mouth twitching slightly, as if he forbade himself to repeat your movement at the last moment.

"Well, in that case." You straighten your back, trying to give yourself confidence and not show that your own self-control is cracking like glass under Depulso. Praying that Sebastian doesn't see how desperate you are.

"We must both be insane then."

You’re giving him your consent directly, and Sebastian reads it from your lips, as if drinking the sweetest nectar from the rim of a glass.

His eyes darken, unfailing smirk turning into a grin. He takes a step towards you, then again and again, while you hastily move back. Every step he takes forward is your one step back.

Your confidence is thinning with every meter that you overcome in sync. It almost feels like a dance, but when Sebastian in the torches’ half-light reminds you of a predator approaching to devour your soul, it’s more like dancing on coals, when every wrong move can mark the triumph of fire and your defeat. You giggle, remembering Sallow's love for fire spells, imagining yourself as a pillar of sparks if you anger him. Sebastian narrows his eyes.

"What's so funny, love?"

You are about to snipe as you open your mouth, preparing a caustic comment, when your back rests against the cold, damp wall of the undercroft. All cocky remarks die in your throat. You exhale, resting both hands on the mossy rocks. Your wand is still between your fingers. Sebastian lets out victorious sneer, caging you between his two hands, pinning you against the wall.

"Not so funny anymore, is it?" Sallow murmurs, looking at you. There are hunger, longing and something else in his gaze, similar to the tenderness of a collector preparing to pin rare butterfly with a needle.

Despite your position, you still try to maintain a bit of dominance and control. Therefore, tearing your palms away from the wall, you stealthily hide your wand behind the edge of your clothes on your waist. Feeling light-headed at his proximity, you grab Sebastian's tie with one hand and place the other on his lips, preventing him from closing the distance and kissing you. Sallow huffs in annoyance through his nose, giving you his brand menacing look.

You smile as you wrap the green and white fabric around your fingers.

"Yeah, what's so funny, Sallow?" You pull on his tie and Sebastian follows your instructions without question, getting even closer. In his eyes, black with desire, you see the reflections of fire from the torches of the undercroft. "Is that the right way to act when you want something? I'd like to hear the magic word."

Suddenly you feel a wet hot touch on the inside of your palm. In surprise, you pull your hand away, staring in amazement at the sly smile spreading across Sebastian's face.

"Did you just licked-"

"Poor little Ravenclaw." Sallow grabs both of your wrists and holds on tight, preventing you from moving. "Has anyone ever told you that snakes tend to eat birds?"

Your gaze darts from his hazel eyes to his lips as you try to get your thoughts in order. Sebastian is watching your efforts with keen interest. When you growl in annoyance from the overflowing desire to kiss the damn smile from his face, Sallow leans forward and covers your lips with his own.

Your breath hitches as Sebastian picks up a slow, painfully slow pace. You expected some violence and passion from him, but instead he kisses you the way a dying knight, devoted only to his mistress, kisses her palm for the last time. The kiss is sensual, soft, wet. Alluring. As if he is afraid that you will shatter like a mirage, like a dream inspired by a mind tormented by fantasies.

His lips are hot, the hands on your wrists clenching tighter as you return the kiss, rising up on your toes.

When he feels the responding movement of your lips, it seems that you have lost the poor boy for good.

Sallow releases your hands from his grip as you pull them demandingly towards yourself. Without breaking the kiss, he takes you under your head with one hand, holding your waist with the other, and pulls you closer. Your fingers are in his hair, slightly squeezing the curly strands. Sebastian seems to forget to breathe.

The kiss becomes faster, you pull each other more, further and, in the heat of touch, it seems that you become one lump of shattered breathing and pleasant shivering.

Sallow bites your lip, pulling it lightly with his teeth, then runs his tongue over it. You moan softly, parting your lips, and Sebastian melts in your arms, getting drunk from your voice and permission.

His tongue meets yours and deepens the kiss. You are being slammed into the wall, Sallow braces your face in both of his hands now, tilting your head as he wants. You allow him, trembling from all the unfamiliar sensations.

It feels good, but so hot, unbearably so. There is not enough air, too, but it is a pleasant suffocation, as if an oxygen void spreads in your chest being filled with an endless repetition of one word instead of air. Sebastian Sebastian Sebastian Sebastian Sebastian.

"Sebastian." You moan as you feel Sallow's lips on your neck, just below your jaw.

Sebastian freezes instantly, returning to your face – it takes a couple of seconds for his misty eyes to focus on yours.

"I think I just found your weak spot." He looks smug, but his voice is broken, and his eyes are pleading.

"Shut up." You whisper, stubbornly looking away.

Sallow grins, pushing your head back into place, hooking your chin with long fingers.

"What is it, darling? I know what you need, and I know what you want. All you have to do is ask politely."

You stare daggers at the proud Slytherin, who playfully runs the fingers of his free hand along your neck, raising a wave of goosebumps. His thumb on your chin circles your lip.

"Too much honor. Why would I bother?"

Sallow slightly scratches the skin of your neck with his nails, and you lean into his touch, causing him to chuckle.

"Because." Sebastian leans down, picking at the skin of your neck with kisses and bites. "I can make you feel good." Sallow returns to his original position, looking into your eyes with a burning glare of anticipation. "Be nice, won’t you? Is it really this hard to confess what you want?"

Sebastian watches your pupils dilate as you stare in fascination at his lips stretching into a seductive smile.

"Come on." Sallow gently tucks a strand of hair from your face, kissing you lovingly on the cheek. "Beg for me, love."

You instantly come out of the trance into which Sebastian without the slightest difficulty allured you with sweet voice and warm touches. Pride and stubbornness inflame in your chest a violent desire to resist.

"I don’t beg." You answer, firmly meeting Sallow's gaze. He frowns, puzzled by the change in your behavior, but once you believe in your small victory for a second, you see the familiar spark of an idea that flashes through the depths of Sebastian's eyes. It’s an all too well-known light that always means trouble. To you mostly, that is.

Sebastian straightens up to his full height, throwing his head back a little and looking down at you. You don't like the amount of triumphant glee on his face as you try to figure out his next move in confusion and panic.

"Oh no, love." Sallow purrs affectionately, you are bathed in the tart sweetness that pervades his every word. "I'm afraid now you do."

You notice too late that his hands are no longer touching your skin. It's also too late because you can't feel your wand in the bosom of your clothes anymore. The last thing you see before a green veil fills your vision is Sallow's right hand aimed at you with your wand clasped in his fingers.

"Imperio." Sebastian whispers and gracefully waves the wand.

With an impulse, you are slightly thrown back into the wall. It feels like you are spinning on a very fast carousel, or you are being at a very high altitude – not a single thought has time to reach your consciousness, as if invisible barriers reflect it.

Sallow watches with an unhealthy interest how the fog swirls in your eyes, green flashes are shimmering through the irises. You look up at him, your face free of all emotion.

"Beg." Sebastian commands, excitement and euphoria filling his entire being.

"Please, Sebastian." Your voice is the most beautiful thing Sallow has ever heard in his whole life. But when you pronounce these words under your breath, brokenly desperate, bittersweetly, he feels that he can come undone.

"Again." He orders, leaning forward, drinking in your every word. "Better."

You whimper, fingers clawing at his robe, but Sallow feels it as if your fingers are clenching right on his heart. It's stupid, embarrassing really, how much power you have over him without realizing it. Now it’s you who beg him, but for some reason he feels that he is the one kneeling in front of you, as if before an ancient deity on the altar, sacrificing his soul, praying that you will accept it.

"Please." You pleadingly look into his eyes. "Please, Sebastian. Please, please, please, please, please, please, I can't take it anymore." The cascade of your whispers falls on him with an unbearable weight. Sallow groans softly at your pleas, his eyes rolling back, and he must control every breath to keep him from choking.

He lets out another quiet moan, pressing his lips to your neck, covering it with open-mouthed kisses, bites, and licks, holding you in place with his fingers on your hips.

Sebastian knows the curse wears off as you relax in his arms, leaning closer.

"Sallow-" You begin with outrage ringing in your tone. "You-" The furious tirade is being abruptly stopped with a loud moan as you choke on it, sensing Sebastian leaving a hickey, effectively cutting off all of your displeasures.

You feel his chest vibrates under your fingers with laughter.

"What would Ominis say if he knew you were practicing the Unforgivable Curses on me?" You say revengefully.

"Don't use my best friend's name when I'm kissing your neck." Sebastian winces.

"Oh?" You mumble innocently. "And here I thought that it would amuse your ego."

"How so?" Sebastian pulls away from your neck, giving you a look.

"Well." You close the distance between you, biting on his chin for a second, hearing his breath hitches in his throat. "Because right now you are the one kissing my skin, not him." You trail wet kisses down Sallow's neck, leaving your own vindictive hickey. Sebastian flinches and groans, making you break into a smirk. "Because I'm being hold in your hands, not in Ominis', and finally-" You move higher, looking into his eyes. "Because when I begged a couple of minutes ago, it was your name that escaped my lips. Or am I wrong?" You smile slyly as you watch Sebastian open his mouth, completely stunned by your words.

"You are incredible." Praise finally escapes his lips when he tries to kiss you again, but you back away, chuckling as Sebastian whines in disappointment. A blush covers his cheeks, framing a constellations of freckles with warm color. You want to kiss all of them.

"I know." You wink at him, kissing him yourself, obediently wrapping your legs around his waist when he picks you up and takes you in his arms, leaning your back against the wall.

You are so absorbed in each other and in your undying duel for authority that you almost don’t catch the sound of the undercroft door opening.

You freeze in horror, Sebastian breaks into a big shit-eating grin. You now think that it is highly possible that only you did miss someone else’s company.

Sallow brings his index finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet.

"I can hear you, you know." The voice of Ominis Gaunt resonates in the silence. Sallow's smile widens. "I'll leave you two doing Merlin knows what in my undercroft then, you filthy animals." He grumbles when he does not hear an answer from either of you. He hears perfectly clear, however, how you sink back to the ground, twisting out of Sallow's grip.

When Ominis turns on his heels and leaves the undercroft in a rage or nervousness, you are ready to cast Crucio on yourself. Already starting to move towards the exit to catch up with Gaunt and talk to him properly, you feel a strong grip on your wrist stopping you.

"You haven't finished your lesson." Sounds from behind.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian x reader

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thesilliestofgals · 4 months

Text

Hello everyone, I'm making this huge post because I'm hyperfixated on what's going down in the Ever After High fandom right now, and I need to type all my thoughts out. So, get your tinfoil hats ready folks, because it's speculation and theorizing time.

DISCLAIMER: this is all just speculation and/or incoherent rambling. I'm putting it under the cut because... it's a little long lol (if you see any grammatical and/or spelling errors ...no you don't)

Earlier today, January 5th (or January 4th, depending on your timezone) Mattel released a "new" song for Ever After High, "Can't Get Me Down" (you'll see why I put new in quotation marks in a bit). Reaction to the song itself was... mixed, with some really liking it, some not liking it, and some being more neutral. The reason why this sent the fandom into a frenzy is because, obviously, this is our first real content from the actual source since the series ended in 2018.

Tin foil hat time, I don't think this song is "new" at all. I'm speculating that this song was in the Mattel's equivalent of The Vault for a long time, which could explain a lot about why it sounds janky and almost ai. Also, I saw some people saying it reminded them of Taylor Swift, and we know, canonically, Taylor Swift exists the EAH universe as Tailor Quick, and Raven is a fan of her. Adding on the fact that Raven is used as the cover for this song, I suspect she would've sung this either in a webisode, or more likely a special, but it got cut for whatever reason.

Here we get to my biggest point: why now? Why would Mattel, with no promotion beforehand, just drop this out of the blue? I saw someone suggest it was a mistake, and I saw someone else suggest that this was leaked by some employee, but I don't think either of those are the case- if they were, it likely would've been taken down already.

I shared this theory through an ask, but I'll reiterate it here: My theory is Mattel is using this as a tactic see how people would respond to the idea of EAH making a comeback.

I think EAH making a comeback now kind of makes sense- look at what happened during it's downfall; iirc doll sales were low, but also, Disney had created Descendants. This is a bit more into conspiracy theory territory, but from what I've heard discussed, many think Disney's creation of Descendants was the nail in the coffin for EAH. It's also common knowledge that Disney is extremely territorial about fairytales, and especially when it comes to princesses, so them making Descendants to assure EAH's decline... checks out. With Disney not doing well now, Mattel could be trying to take advantage of that. But that's just my theory, I could be totally wrong and Mattel could be doing this for some other completely random reason.

There was also some other stuff about trademarks, but I'm not good with that kind of stuff, so you can read more about that here.

TL;DR: this situation is very *exaggerated and vague hand waving in air* as you can tell by this post, so while we can continue speculating and/or doing our own digging, I think it'd be best to keep an eye out to see if Mattel releases any more songs, or even any announcements/statements.

If I forgot anything or explained this poorly, I apologize!! Please let me know if I did either and I will try and correct that!!

#nonny's nonsense #ever after high #eah #long post

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manicpixiefelix · 2 months

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Thinking of our fae AU and okay, I know it's assumed Reader is also Summer Court like the Cattons

But! What if they're actually Autumn Court?

Thankfully, the Cattons still basically adopt them and they and Nate are inseparable.

The Castle of Reader's family is similar yet so different from the Cattons, suspended in perpetual autumn bathed in that warm golden glow of the setting sun giving it a dreamy quality. Leaves a fiery tapestry making the trees seem to be ablaze in shades of red, orange and yellow.

Sometimes, when they pass by greenery on the Catton estate, it will briefly change. Demifey!Oliver is fascinated by it and the way shadows shift in their presence.

Obsessed Obsessed OBSESSED!!

Autumn Fae!Reader is absolutely a spectacular concept, I love all of this.

Also I think that the changes that happen on the Cattons land because of/around them are pretty cosmetic because it's not Their Land. Which means instead, the grass turns pale and gold beneath their feet but it's still just as lush as the grass around it. Leaves on trees they touch briefly become a rush of red and orange and gold, but they'll never fall in the summer court. Some smaller plants will seem to bow to them in the way they shrivel and shrink, but give it time and they'll bounce right back to their full glory.

The opposite can be said for the one time Felix visited the autumn court to support the reader. He grabbed one of the many falling leaves from right out of the air and it turned green between his fingers. The grass crunches beneath him, no matter how lush and lovely it may look when he steps on it. Because he's Summer Court & because he's Felix, I fully believe he has this weird affinity with plants, like a lot of royal fae I want to believe have certain powers or effects on the world that they don't fully understand or realise. Felix discovered his when he touched a flower and it began to immediately move to turn to him more directly in the moment of contact. What Felix and everyone else has failed to realise is that every single flower on the Saltburn Estate is growing in the direction of his bedroom (because of sleep it's where he statistically spends the most time on the property). The flowers of Saltburn don't grow to the sun they grow to Felix.

Anyways so I love this and I think Autumn!Reader & Summer!Felixs magic has bled into each other over the years, and that's most noticeable when they're doting on Oliver.

Wreathed in vines and laurels whose greenery is gold and almost brittle, with leaves in red,yellow,orange so vibrant they're like gems, but they flutter, healthy and strong, and never seem at risk of falling.

Chainmail carefully created with so much love by the reader and Felix together, the plants woven and grafted together with such great pains taken to make sure Oliver could wear it without himself getting pricked by thorns inside the garment. The garment itself has your trademark colouring, as if it had spent a long time cut from the roof, almost as pale as Oliver's skin, drawing little attention to itself when something is worn over it, even a plain t-shirt. Still, it's very much alive, cool, comfortable and flexible to wear and fight in. The thorns grow back on their own, but you have a hand in those too, as they grow in at the point of death; dehydrated and sharp as a tack. When he wins, and he always does, the whole crowd will see small roses bloom in triumph across whatever is left over and visible of the tunic, up his arms, across his back and chest, always just where the thorns are. It was Oliver's request specifically, to soften the spikes since he didn't want to hurt either of you in the excitement of his celebrating.

Other things Oliver has noted about the ways your two courts have effected you and Felix that neither of you seem to think about but that he finds endearing;

Sometimes he'll be stroking Felix's hair and he'll find a little autumn leaf in there. Not even because they'd been around Autumn leaves or rolled in any, being so close to you manifests leaves in Felix's hair. Oliver wonders with hope about when there will be leaves found in his hair.

Oliver has helped you garden before. You can only ever garden at Saltburn because you know that even if the plants look half dead when you place them, they'll be fine the next day on the grounds of the estate. Sometimes, however, you're surprised that a few of them look healthy and green and strong, even compared to the ones you did a few minutes before that. Oliver wonders how long it will take you to figure out that plants literally bloom in your hands when you talk so lovingly and fondly about Felix.

Anyways, enough rambling from me for this ask. Yes to Autumn Court Fae Reader is the point. 💖💖💖

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #fae au #it shouts back

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mod-kyoko · 9 months

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First kisses with kokichi nagito byakuya (both reader and their firsts)? I hope ure feeling better btw<3

no matter how overrated some people claim this trio is, they will always be my favorite to write for

first kiss ft. kokichi, nagito, and byakuya

fandom: danganronpa

type: hcs, fluff

a/n: sorry for posting this months later, i like the request so i wanted to do it still

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

kokichi oma

once kokichi realized he liked you, he decided to play a game

rather than admit those feelings right away in fear of rejection, he planned on teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore, ultimately cornering you into reciprocating

his first step was to just start touching you more, in a way that made you question whether they were just casual, platonic touches, or if they meant something more

you would be eating breakfast and your legs would be touching, but he would never move

or you would be taking a stroll, and he would lay his arm across your shoulders

sometimes he would poke your cheek while teasing you

one day, someone had bumped into you rather harshly, sending you straight to the ground

but, as you were bracing for impact, you felt a pair of arms around you

looking up, you met a smirking kokichi

"my, my, we've got a klutz on our hands," he teased

his long locks of hair fell forward, tickling your face

the proximity of his face to yours sent butterflies straight into the pit of your stomach, but the moment was short-lived, as he almost immediately lifted you upright and stepped away

that night, his eyes kept you awake, tossing and turning in your bed, until you threw off your blankets and stomped to his room

he answered his door almost immediately with his trademark grin, as if he was waiting for you

"what's up?" he beamed, looking a little too excited to see you

"i was just wondering if we could talk..." you answered, pushing past him

"bout what?" he asked innocently, shutting the door behind you as you sat on the edge of his bed

"um... i'm not really sure how to bring it up..."

your own face started to betray you, heating up around your cheeks

even though you were staring at your hands, you could feel his purple eyes burning holes into the side of your head

he strode to where you were sitting, then plopped right down beside you

"i think i know..." his voice was now just a little above a whisper, as he leaned close to your ear

watching you shudder from his voice was way too enticing to him

he grabbed your hand with one of his, intertwining your fingers, and used his other to take your chin in between two fingers

"you know, it's rather late, i guess you were losing sleep over me, huh?" his breath ghosted across your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine

you couldn't answer him, all you could do was try to turn your head away, but he had other plans

in one swift motion, he had you sitting on his lap, faces inches apart

he ignored the gasp you let out in surprise, and closed the space between your lips

it was soft, and gentle, and loving

his fingers tangled in your hair, and caressed at the small of your back

for someone so mischievous and seemingly apathetic, the kiss he was sharing with you was exactly the opposite

when it was time to pull away, he leaned his forehead on yours, hand still rubbing circles on your back

"kokichi..." you started, but he pressed a thumb to your bottom lip

"i know... i know."

nagito komaeda

you're gonna have to take the reigns with this one no matter what

poor boy cannot pick up a hint to save his life

even so, his body language will tell you the truth

for a while you'd been noticing how he would get a slight blush whenever you were in close proximity, or he would always be following you around, or he'd always sit next to you despite there being many open seats

one day the two of you planned a picnic together. you brought food, nagito brought a blanket to lay out in the grass

before you dug in, you laid next to each other, staring up at the sky, quietly enjoying each other's presence

"can i ask you a question?" he broke the silence first

you turned to look at him, but he was still gazing at the sky, a frown displayed on his face

"yeah what's up?"

finally, he turned his head to meet your eyes

"why do you hangout with trash like me?"

the question made you want to punch him. the countless times you've scolded him for being so self-deprecating led up to nothing, you suppose. but, maybe this would give you the chance to confess

you sat upright, and he did the same, pulling his knees to his chest

"nagito, i hangout with you because i think you're really cool. you're not trash, you're so, so much more."

still, the frown stayed on his face, and you realized you were going to have to do more to convince him

first, you scooted next to him until your shoulders were touching, so you could lean your head against his

"you know how i feel about you saying those things," you muttered

"ah, i'm sorry, i'm so worthless for making you feel bad..." he chuckled awkwardly, but you weren't laughing

choosing to ignore his words, you grabbed his face in your hands, and pressed your lips to his cheek

"nagito... that's how i feel."

nagito leaned back suddenly, mouth slightly ajar, and you took the opportunity to kiss him again, but on the lips this time

at first he didn't kiss you back, eyes wide and hands trembling, but with your thumbs caressing his face, he felt loved for the first time

so he let his vulnerability show, slightly opening his lips, and closing his eyes

byakuya togami

first kiss with byakuya would be a slow-burn

it has to build up, he doesn't just show his vulnerable side to anyone

in fact, there probably hasn't been a single person who he has shown it to

it took months and months of being friends, and even after he realized his feelings for you, it took weeks for him to even think about making a move

your first kiss would happen somewhere private, perhaps in his home library or study

the two of you were conversating about his corporation, and he realized that you were the very first person who has ever shown genuine interest in it

the first person who has listened to him and asked questions without having an ulterior motive or looked down on him

you simply wanted to hear about what he was passionate about

i'm saying the way to byakuya's heart is through showing you care deeply about the things he cares about

after that conversation, he asked you if you wanted to read with him

his favorite poem is annabel lee by edgar allan poe

the two of you were sitting side by side on a couch

when he read it to you, you commented on how beautiful it was, and his heart fluttered

as he flipped through the collection of poems, his eyes wandered to your face, and suddenly he set the book down

when he met your eyes, he could no longer deny his feelings

so, with all his courage, swallowing down his fear, he asked you

"y/n... i would like to kiss you. is that alright?"

your own nervousness left you speechless, and you could only nod in response

the two of you slowly leaned closer, closing the gap between your lips and meeting in a soft, lingering kiss

he couldn't believe he was in this position, he never thought he would meet someone worthy of his love, or be the subject of someone else's

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

FUCK,,,, BYAKUYA

#mod kyoko #danganronpa #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #byakuya x reader #byakuya togami

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rubydubydoo122 · 16 days

Text

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason)

Jason woke up in a daze. There was shouting, and arguing, but he couldn’t really make out the words. Something about ‘ Why is this the first time I’m learning about Jason’s soul sucking swords??!!’ and ‘It’s in his files–’ and ‘Not the magic sword part, the part where he uses them and ALMOST DIES AGAIN!!’ and ‘Do I look like a magic expert to you, Dick?’ and ‘No, but you could’ve asked ANY of the handful of magicians–’

Jason stopped listening. Why are Dick and Bruce arguing? Must be about the Titans or something.

He felt a hand card through his hair.

Oh. That’s nice.

He fell back asleep.

The next time he woke up, there was the bone deep numbness that was so numb, it hurt. In his shoulders, his knees, his hips. His fingers felt stiff. His whole body was screaming.

Jason really hates that crowbar.

Slowly, he flexed each and every joint. Curling his fingers, curving his shoulders, bending his knees and shifting his hips until the screaming pain turned into a synchronized throb.

Sometimes, Jason really loathed being brought back to life.

He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t like laying on his back. It reminds him too much of waking up in a suit and tie. Inside of a box. Dark and cold, breathing in stale air–

He curled back onto his side.

That was better.

Jason realized Bruce and Dick were staring at him with that look . With how much they look at him like that, they should trademark it. Right along with Alfred’s I’m very disappointed in you look ™ and the Batglare ™. Though, Jason didn’t really know how to describe it. Kinda like a you’re still alive? Look.

It was too much work to read into whatever Bruce and Dick were thinking under their carefully crafted masks, and frankly, Jason was tired, so he closed his eyes.

But every single bone in his body was pulsing in pain to the beat of his heart.

A hand grabbed his, and traced tiny circles into the space between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be, For my unconquerable soul.

“In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance, My head is bloody, but unbowed.

“Beyond this place of wrath and tears, Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years, Finds and shall find me unafraid.

‘It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”

There was a weight on his chest that was shifting around, until he was face to face with…

Damian.

But something about him was making some very dim light bulbs in the back of his head turn on. Wait. Talia was there, right? He remembers seeing Talia. Were they at the League?

“ Little Prince–” he started in the League dialect.

“Are you really Jay-Akhi when he grows big?” And that completely threw Jason. Because Damian said it in English– and not in the crisp accent or tone Damian used to have when he was younger. Lowkey, it had a bit of Alley in it, which was really throwing Jason for a loop.

So… maybe they weren’t in the league. “Uh… I guess?” He sat up, “Not exactly… I’m not your Jason, but I’m kinda like him.”

Damian grinned– aww, now that was just adorable– he was missing his two front teeth, “That’s mir-macu- wacu-louis. Now I have three Akhis!” then he gasped, “No, four!”

Jason chuckled, “Miraculous.” Damian couldn’t be more than, what? Five? Six? “Alrighty kiddo, is there a reason you woke me up? Cus I’m pretty sure I need my beauty sleep in all universes.”

“Um…” Damian put a finger to his chin and looked up, and then leaned in close, speaking in a stage whisper, “My reason was Cookies.”

“Do you mean you want to make ‘em or eat ‘em?” Jason raised an eyebrow conspiratorially, “Or do you need help stealing ‘em? ‘Cus, I dunno about you, but I may know a thing or two about that.”

Damian spread his arms out wide, and wrapped them around Jason’s neck, “I wanna make ‘em, steal ‘em, then eat ‘em. Like the Cookie Monster!”

There were footsteps racing down the hall, “Habiiiiiibat!” Damian immediately perked up, and looked to the door, “Damian?” Jay peaked his head through the door, and then seemed to realize Jason was awake and straightened up, “Oh. uh, Hi! I’m sorry if he woke you up.” Damian immediately ran to Jay and jumped into his arms.

Jason laughed at the sight. Dick is probably going to melt once he sees the pair. “Trust me, I’m used to it. He comes to my apartment at 2 a.m. demanding food.” Everyone does and it’s annoying. Like, Dick can cook too. So can Steph and Duke, and even Damian depending on the food. Why would they go to someone they don’t really like? Or trust? Jason shook his head, “How long have I been out?”

“A little over two days. Your Bruce and Dick wouldn’t leave your side, until Alfred had to shoo them away to get some food and sleep.” Jay chewed the inside of his cheek. “They, uh, they were looking at him kinda funny. Is… nevermind.” For all Jason’s faults, he was usually really good at reading people. He wasn’t as good as Cass, but he was pretty good. He had to be, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived as long as he did on the streets. If only he was able to read Sheila “Alfred left some clothes out for you. He’s in the kitchen right now, so once you’re done… yeah.” Jay turned to leave.

That was a lot more awkward than the last Jason they met who was this age. Actually, he was pretty sure this Jason was older. Though, he always felt more confident as Robin. He could always pretend to be more outgoing while dressed like a traffic light.

Jason was a bit wobbly on his feet, but he found the clothes Alfred laid out for him. They were probably Bruce's if he wasn’t mistaken.

Then he realized what sweatshirt specifically had been laid out for him.

It was a vintage Gotham Knight’s sweatshirt that Jason remembered wearing all the time in the cave. It had always been way too big on him, and Bruce tried to buy him one that would fit better, but there was something about Bruce’s sweatshirt specifically– maybe because it was vintage, or maybe because it was Bruce’s– that was comforting.

He tried to find it once when he went back to the cave, usually he kept it in his locker, but he had found it empty. With no trace that Jason was once Robin, besides that stupid memorial. He assumed Bruce threw everything out.

While Jason took a shower, he debated wearing the sweatshirt, but ultimately decided against it. Jason’s was long gone. And he was fine with that. He had his own time with his. This one belonged to Jay.

And then, it hit him like a freight train.

Alfred.

Alfred was here. Alfred was alive .

And, he made it to the kitchen, but… he couldn’t make it past the door. Not when the scene looked like it was pulled directly from his childhood. Jay on a stepstool so he could comfortably reach the counter, Alfred next to him giving him nods every time Jay looked to him for confirmation. The Beatles playing in the background.

And just seeing Alfred reminded him of how much he missed him.

Damian was sitting on one of the bar stools with a bunch of colored pencils and paper spread out in front of him.

Alfred finally seemed to notice him, “Ah, Master Jason. Glad to see you awake and about.” Even his voice was the same.

That was the thing about Alfred, no matter how much time had passed, he still stayed the same. The way he stood, the way he spoke. Every hair on his head, every line in his face. Jason had genuinely thought Alfred was immortal. Guess he was wrong .

Alfred moved to the fridge and pulled out a glass container of pasta salad. “Dinner is at six, though since you missed the last few meals, I would be amenable to fixing up something you would like.”

Jason placed the Gotham Knights sweatshirt on the backrest of the chair next to Damian, and sat in the next seat, glancing at the clock. It was currently 3:00, “I think I’ll be good for now, Alfred. Thank you.” Though, Jason wasn’t just saying thank you for the food. He was saying, thank you for all the years you’ve taken care of me, thank you for giving me a real childhood, thank you for being someone who believed in me.

Alfred gave him a knowing smile, as he scooped out some pasta into a bowl. Because maybe Alfred was a mind reader. Jason was pretty sure that held true across universes.

Jason started eating as he made a mental note of things. They’d already been in this universe for a lot longer than the other ones. They were even at the Wings Universe for noticeably longer. And then he stopped mid bite.

Alternate reality Jason had Seraphim Wings.

Maybe… No. Jason couldn’t’ve been an angel, especially not a seraphim. Not before he died, and definitely not after. It was just a different reality. It wasn’t even him .

Little Damian poked Jason’s cheek, “Big Jay-Akhi?”

Oh, this child was too cute. “Hm?”

“Can I see your magical swords?”

Jason scratched the back of his neck, “Uh, sorry kiddo. I can’t exactly summon them without the presence of pure evil. But I can tell you how your Umi was the one who brought me to this place called the Acres of All where I learned how to use it.”

He saw Jay’s mouth drop, “Wait, seriously? When?”

Egh.. that was a foggy time period, “I think I was… 17? Yeah, because I was 18 by the time I was back in Gotham, and that was after… yeah, I should’ve been 17.”

Jay beamed, and leapt off the stool he was on, darting towards the kitchen entrance, because Bruce(the younger one) was leaning against the doorframe, “Ya hear that, Old Man? I’m gonna get magical swords of my own! Oh my god, I’m gonna have to make up a new vigilante name! Wait–” Jay looked back at Jason, “What do you go by? What does your suit look like? Do you still stay in Gotham? Or do you work from wherever you go to college? Where do you go to college? Cus I’ve been thinking of Princeton since I could still come back to Gotham every weekend to see Damian and I would be close enough to help if there was an Arkham breakout, but I was also thinking NYU because then I could see Dick more often, and maybe help out the Titans. Am I aiming too high? I mean, afterall I didn’t really go to middle school, but my grades have been really good, and obviously you know that, you’re me, and I’ve been thinking if I had a really good essay, I could probably get into any good school. Not to mention Bruce said he’d pay for tuition, but I wanna know that I got into the school because I was good, not because Bruce has a lot of money, ya know?”

“Um…” Static filled Jason’s ears. He had to sit on his hands because they had gone cold. His whole body had gone cold, why was the manor so cold?

He was also sweating. Why was he sweating if he was so cold? His heart was pounding. Did he just come back from patrol?

He huffed out a breath and closed his eyes. He knew himself. He knew that school and college, and a future was something every version of himself would’ve wanted.

Yeah, no, Jason’s not gonna think about that. He’s gonna go back to making a mental checklist. He no longer had his kris. That was embedded in a hyena’s forehead.

Did his Bruce still have the duffel with their suits in it? Or were they just running around in civvies from here on out?

Jason no longer had his helmet or gloves. He had left those behind when he was holding a crying Tim. Which honestly sucked because if they got stuck in a reality that dropped below freezing, his fingers were going to be useless and in pain for the next 24 hours after that.

Alfred placed a grounding hand on Jason’s elbow, “I believe we should hold off on interrogating the older Master Jason until he fully wakes up.”

Jason snapped back into the real world and realized everyone was looking at him funny.

No clue why though. He was perfectly fine.

But his Bruce and Dick were now in the room, and so was Talia, so he looked to her, “You wouldn’t happen to have any spare knives on you? I kinda lost mine a couple dimensions ago.”

Talia gave him a fond smile, and then a pointed look towards Alternate reality Bruce, “I was told not to give you anymore blades that weren’t approved by your father beforehand.”

Jay sat in the seat in between Jason and Damian, “She gave me a squiggly knife for my birthday. And then Bruce had a cow.”

Jason nodded, “Batcow.” And then blinked, “Oh, wait, you were talking about the expression. Not Damian’s pet. I thought you meant Bruce took away the kris and got you a cow instead.”

Suddenly Bruce was faced with a pair of double puppy eyes from both Damian and Jay, and Jason realized the chaos he had caused.

Jay sat on his hands and kicked his legs, tripling the cuteness factor, “Maybe not a cow, but at least a dog?”

Damian got off his chair and gave Bruce the drawing he was working on, “Please, Baba ? We can also get a pony in case the dog gets lonely. Like Dickie-Akhi and Jay-Akhi. We can then get a kitten when the doggy leaves because dogs don’t like cats.”

He saw both Bruce's fold, and Bruce had better hope their Damian never asks to get a pony, because Jason will bring up this moment.

“Wait, why am I the pony?” Jay had his head tilted to the side.

“Because you’re Ponyboy! From the story!”

The Outsiders?

Jay hummed, “I always saw myself in Johnny.”

Jason shoveled the rest of the pasta into his mouth, even though all it tasted like was ash. He could only half pay attention to what the rest of the conversation was.

“…Wasn’t that the one who killed someone?”

“It was an accident, and it was also in self defense.”

“Jay-Akhi, you can’t be Johnny. He dies.”

“Saving kids from a fire wouldn’t be the worst way to go out.”

Jason’s ears were ringing.

His heart dropped. Just like Garzonas over the edge of a balcony. A man he didn’t push, but he didn’t save.

A shiver ran up his spine, yet his ears felt like they were on fire. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He was trapped under a smoldering rebar, and the only thing he could smell was smoke and burning flesh.

Abruptly he stood up, “I’m… gonna… go back to bed.” He was about to bolt out of the room when he turned back to Alfred, and offered him a tight smile. “Thank you.”

And he stumbled out of the kitchen.

Jason was bundled up in three blankets, but his chest wouldn’t expand, his heart was now pulsing in his throat, and he still felt cold. Too cold. He was on fire, he was covered with burns. He was riddled with frostbite. Every bone in his body was crushed. He was bleeding. Bleeding out of his neck. His hands were coated with sticky red. Red, red, red. The air was too thick– He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

There was laughing, laughing, laughing, something was eating him alive, but he wasn’t alive. He was just a doll. A doll with a voice box that sang, ‘only the good die young, only the good die young! Onlythegooddieyoung! ONLYTHEGOODDIEYOUNG!’ over and over and over again dissonant against the laughter that wouldn’t stop.

Nope.

Jason does not have to deal with this. They were currently on a mission. A really long mission, sure, but they were on a mission. He didn’t have time to panic. In fact, the only reason he was currently panicking about a book was because he was just tired. Even though he slept for two days. Though, in his defense, his soul almost decided to Houdini out of…existence.

His soul.

His wings.

They had completely wrecked Angel Jason’s wings. They had broken his soul. Even if the angel had survived, who knew if he would ever be the same again.

Either way his soul was shattered into too many pieces. His soul. He was broken .

He felt the corner of his bed dip, the sweet smell of jasmine filling the air, as fingers ran through his hair.

Talia.

Safety.

‘Ana huna

“You have always said Robin was magic. Though, Richard always said that magic came from you. I guess he was right.” Talia puffed out a soft breath that could only be heard as fond.

It tickled the back of his brain. The part that would always be frozen in time. Watching the last second on the timer. The part that knew something came after that and before that Halloween, but he could not remember what was there. The part that knew there was something in between the coffin and the Lazarus pit, but the pieces were too fractured to put together.

“Jason, tayirati alsaghira,” My little bird, “You still make the same face when you are trying not to think of something that haunts you. I will not pretend to know you as I know my Jason…” She trailed off, as she thought carefully of her next words, “just know I do not plan on letting anything happen to my sons. None of them, no matter the Universe.” She continued to brush his hair behind his ear, “You are safe as long as I am here.”

Jason curled in on himself, “‘Ana huna.” I am here.

It was a phrase buried deep within his mind.

“Yes, ‘ana huna.” He could almost hear Talia’s fond smile, “ ‘Ana huna.”

And if Jason let himself zone out, he could almost picture himself back at the league.

A husk of a boy. Sitting in a grass field while the promise of ‘ana huna was softly whispered in his ear. A time when he was too hollow to hurt. Too hurt to feel. Oddly, it was probably the best period of his post-mortem life. Mainly because he didn’t remember it at all.

And with Talia there, whispering ‘ana huna, Jason could just forget.

He could forget.

Jason ended up coming down to help Alfred make dinner. They were making Biryani– Jason’s idea– and it was weird.

It was weird because Jason knew this wasn’t his Alfred. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He had to keep reminding himself that his Alfred was no longer able to cook besides him in this kitchen because of Bane.

Yet, cooking alongside Alfred always felt comfortable. It always felt right . He never felt like he had to live up to any expectations whenever he was around Alfred.

He knew he could just be.

Except, Alfred was giving him that look that meant he knew something was up, and was waiting patiently for Jason to tell him. Honestly, it was a near constant look on Alfred’s face– whether that be towards Bruce, or Dick, or anyone.

When Jason was younger, he used to wonder if Alfred was a time traveler. Since he died, he just thinks Alfred could read minds.

Or Alfred just knows them all really well.

The rice was already cooking and Jason started frying the onions in a pan alongside the spices. He and Alfred worked well in silence, it’s just that, Jason wanted to say something. He just didn’t know what.

“Alfred?”

Alfred handed Jason the chopped tomatoes, “Yes, my boy?”

“If–” Jason cut himself off and frowned as he slid the tomatoes into the pan, “Nothin’.” and then he realized that it would be a bit too obvious if Jason wanted Alfred to drop the look. “I was just wondering if you could eat at the table with us tonight?”

Alfred gave him that smile that meant he wouldn’t normally do what Jason’s asking him to, but will because he knows Jason needs it. “Just tonight.”

Dinner was… interesting.

Jason could tell that both Bruces wanted to talk about interdimensional travel, but Alfred had a strict no cave work in the manor policy. (the policy had been tossed out the window by the time he came back from the dead, but oh well.)

Jason was sitting next to Talia who was feeding Damian as he babbled about different animals and people named the Kratt brothers? Though, it was really sweet to watch. Mainly because he knew this wasn’t something that would happen between their Talia and Damian.

Dick was looking down at his plate, like it had personally offended him, and Alfred was sitting at the head of the table with both Jasons to either side of him.

Jay was looking at Jason with a question on his face, “How come your Bruce lets you get away with the white streak?”

Out of all the Jasons who were Robins, he’s surprised he hasn’t been asked that question earlier, “As if Bruce has any control over me.” Jason glanced to Dick and back to Jay, hopefully projecting, He still doesn’t know about the vitiligo, as much as he could, “I also wear a helmet.”

Jay also glanced at Dick and grinned, “Is it because of your magical swords? Or do you just dye it? Ya know, you should dye it a different color. Like… I was gonna say green, but it’ll look horrible once it fades, but maybe… purple.”

Jason hummed, “Maybe.” He looked to Dick, “Ya think I could get Steph in on it too?”

Dick glared at Jason. It was a glare filled with such temperance, Jason had to hold back a flinch.

Jay turned to face Dick, while leaning slightly back. “Who’s Steph?”

Like a lightswitch, Dick’s glare softened, “She’s our current Batgirl.”

So he was angry with Jason. Why was he angry with him? He thought they were getting better.

The Batgirl comment seemed to deflate Jay’s mood, “So Babs doesn’t…”

“No, she doesn’t.” A flurry of emotions seemed to pass over Jay’s face before settling on worry, “But honestly, she’s much more bada–” Dick glanced at Damian, “-wesome. Awesome, she’s much more awesome now. She’s basically our eyes and ears. She mans the coms, and sends us to wherever we’re needed. She’s kinda our guardian… angel now.” Dick looked back at his plate, pushing around some rice.

Jay rolled his eyes, sensing the tone shift at the end, “Please tell me you two aren’t also fighting. Because I came off of a phone call a couple days ago with my big brother telling him how much of a big idiot he was, and I really don’t feel like repeating myself.”

Dick gave him a little chuckle, and ruffled Jay’s hair, “Nah, kiddo, we’ve been just friends for the better part of the decade.”

“That’s what you say about Wally and Roy, yet I still see both of their clothes in your room.”

“Everyone’s clothes are everywhere in Titans Tower. You know that.” Jay looked like he wanted to continue to poke fun at Dick and his relationships, but Dick cut him off, “Steph! Is actually really cool. She was her own hero for a time, and then she was Robin, and then went on to be Batgirl. She’s basically Damian’s big sister, but Bruce won’t adopt her.”

Jay nodded, “So like…Babs but blonde?” and then paused, “I don’t treat Steph how you treat Babs, right?”

Jason grimaced, “Nah, I could never pull a Tim. She deserves better.”

“Who’s Tim?”

Bruce (the old man,) finally pitched into the conversation, “Do you have a small kid with a camera who follows you around as Robin?”

Jay nodded.

Jason blinked, “Hold up, is Tim a little stalker in every universe except for ours?”

Bruce’s face twisted like he was adding something to his mental tally, “No. Ours did too. You were the one who told me about him. Though, I didn’t believe you, until Tim showed up on our doorstep.”

“Huh. I guess I forgot.” Jason scratched his head and frowned. How could he have forgotten? Jason hasn’t forgotten any of the alley kids he meets on patrol, or the people he’s saved from muggings, or anything. He might not know some of their names, but he could never forget their faces. How in tarnation did he forget Tim running around from roof to roof with a camera?

What else does he not remember?

The rest of dinner passed, Jay offered to get Damian ready for bed, while Alfred washed the dishes. The rest of them headed down to the cave.

Jason had to do a double take, because this cave was nothing like their cave, and it definitely didn’t look like the cave he knew when he was younger.

First off, there was a swing near the computer. There was also the normal batcomputer chair, but Jason just wasn’t expecting there to be a swing. Vaguely, in the back of his mind he remembered sitting on a swing with a sleeping kid leaning on him as the sun set. Second, there were no weapons out on racks, and most of the sharp corners were either blunted or covered with foam. Third, there was one of those toy cars that a kid could ride in, that was painted to look like the batmobile. Along with a pretty large Thomas the Train track set, and a bin of legos.

So, really the main difference between this batcave and their batcave, was that this one was baby proofed.

“Jason, would you mind if I took a sample of your blood? Just a blood test, nothing else.” Young Bruce led them towards the medbay, while Talia, Dick and Older Bruce made their way to the computer

Jason frowned, “Why… didn’t you do that when I was unconscious?” He figured Mr. Paranoid would’ve done that already.

“You passed out due to magical interference. I did not want to… complicate your status.” Bruce opened a drawer and pulled out a sterile needle, tube, and tourniquet. “And I know you don’t like having needles placed in you without your knowledge. Unless that’s just something my Jason doesn’t appreciate.”

Jason sat on the cot and rolled up his sleeve, “Nah, you’re right. I’m just… I’m fine if it’s you.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, while grabbing a bandaid (Wonder Woman themed) and an alcohol wipe, “What about Alfred? Or Leslie?”

“They go without saying.” They were the ones who figured it’d be better to make a routine while bringing needles around Jason. It’s not a distraction, just reassurance nothing’s been tampered with. Jason doesn’t really need people to do that for him anymore, not since he’s had more traumas that have made unsterile needles seem juvenile, but the thought is still nice.

“What about Talia and Dick.” Bruce tied the tourniquet around Jason’s upper arm.

“Dick hasn’t tried in… a really long time. He tried to distract me, and I kicked him in the face. Though, I dunno about Talia. I trust her with my life, but I don’t remember how that trust was built.”

“Hnm.” That was his mentally tally for something off grunt.

Bruce started putting together the needle and tube in front of Jason. He felt around for his vein, then disinfected Jason’s arm, “One… Two… Three.”

There was a slight pinch, but other than that, Jason was fine.

Jason’s fears were weird like that. He’s not afraid of the Joker, but his heart stops whenever he sees a blonde with a bob on the streets. He’s not claustrophobic from the coffin, but the feeling of dirt under his fingernails sends a shudder throughout his whole body. He’s not afraid of needles, he’s afraid of what’s attached to it.

Bruce took the needle out, stuck the bandaid on, and disposed of the gloves he was using. Then he offered Jason a smile, “I like that you decided to grow the white out. Reminds me of a tiny little boy who hit me with a tire iron and called me a big boob.”

Jason opened his mouth and then closed it, Not his Bruce He hopped off the cot. Jason gave him a little smile back, as they both headed back to the batcomputer.

They were planning on building a beacon of sorts. Older Bruce already had a couple of designs sketched out, and had made a list of materials that would be needed to make said device. Most of them they could find, but some of them Jason knew they wouldn’t be able to get their hands on unless the universe was a couple years in the future. Or they went on a deep space adventure, which they couldn’t because that would take too much time. Time they didn’t know they had.

Jason was currently sitting in the study, across from Bruce. It was just them in the manor. Talia had left for work at Wayne Enterprises, Alfred was currently dropping off Jason and Damian at school. Dick and Younger Bruce were out gathering materials.

Dick, who was still upset with Jason. What did he do? Dick hasn’t been this mad at Jason since Jason was in his villain arc. As far as Jason knew, they were fine back in the Wings universe. And he was concked for the past two days, and Dick’s been avoiding him since then, so it had to be something that happened over there.

Unless he said something wrong while he was asleep– but he doesn’t sleep talk. Maybe it was something he did?

Since no one else was in the manor with them, they decided to update the chart of Universes they’ve been to. On a real piece of paper.

This time they were just titled Jason 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8. He couldn’t find it in him to give each of them snarky nicknames.

Most of it stayed the same, if they were Robin or not, their Age, the place where they died, how they died. Though they decided to add the differences between each of the universes, and how long they were in each universe.

“Got any theories on why we’ve been in this universe much longer than the other ones?” Sure, they had also been in the Wings Universe longer than the other universes, six hours, though that’s still a lot less than three days.

“Dick seems to think that because the beam directly hit you, where we go is somewhat attached to you.”

Jason nodded. It made sense… but at the same time it didn’t. If the beam was magic, it would make more sense, but it seemed to be just tech gone wrong, “And you?”

Bruce looked at him, but too many years of miscommunication must have passed between them, because the only thing he could read on Bruce’s face was a mixture of grief and relief, “Jason hasn’t…”

“Well, Sherlock, couldn't've figured that one out.” Jason tapped the pen on the table, “but usually we’re sent back a little before the incident starts. The first one we were in the warehouse a couple minutes before Robin arrived. The second Jason was actively freezing to death, the third Jason was an hour before he got hit by the car, tops. The fourth one was also a little under an hour before the manor got swarmed, the fifth one was seconds before I came back to life. The sixth one was– we were in the room while… The lamb was an active member of-of the food chain, while we just sat there . And baby Jay was probably spooning cocaine into his mout h as we– as she –” Jason shut his mouth. He felt like he was going to throw up. “She didn’t even care.” Jason underlined the age of baby Jay on their list. “She left her four year old son alone . In the apartment. With drugs in reach . She didn’t care , Bruce.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, but it still didn’t stop his mouth from twitching downwards, so he let out a little laugh. “I’ve– I’ve spent the last eight years trying to make excuses for her. That she was being blackmailed by the Joker, she was young and wasn’t ready to be a- a mother, that the world was just out to get her, but she– my mom – Catherine, the one who raised me– she would’ve never let that happen. Any of it. She wouldn’t’ve– up until the very end she didn’t even let me near– ” Jason pressed his lips together, his eyes burning with shame at the stupid, naive, fifteen year old version of himself who was desperately clawing at any ounce of acceptance he could find. “ Mami wouldn’t have sold me out.” it came out barely above a whisper.

Bruce reached his hand across the desk, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Jason shook his head, “I want to tell you. God, Bruce I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. But at the same time, I didn’t?” He set down the pen and looked into Bruce’s eyes. They used to be a brighter blue. The color of the sky on a good day in Gotham. Now they've turned gray. Jason doesn’t know when it happened. He just knows it was sometime while he was gone. He looked back down at the pen, “Sometimes, it’s just really hard to talk to you. There are so many times that I want to talk to you . To Bruce . Except ever since I’ve come back, it feels like I have to fight Batman just to do that.” Jason shook his head, he knew he had Bruce right now. If he had Batman, he’d be interrogating Jason instead of letting him speak. “Every single day since I could think straight, I’ve regretted how– how desperate I was to meet her. How I didn’t even do any background checks on her or how I didn’t even tell Alfred about it, I just found out and… left. ”

“Jason–”

“Let me finish.” He took in a breath, “It was reckless, it wasn’t thought through, I was so… willing to trust her even though that was the worst mistake of my life. It was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Jason, she led you into a false sense of security, it wasn’t your fault–”

“It wasn’t my fault? Bruce, I knew better than that! The first thing you learn as a Alley kid is don’t talk to people you don’t know or you’ll end up dead in a ditch . I literally found three contacts in Papi’s phone with names I didn’t even know, and left halfway across the world to ask a secret agent– Who I didn’t even know– if she was my mother, and I should’ve stopped then, but I then asked Lady Shiva ? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Bruce stood up and rounded the table until he was kneeling in front of him. “Jason, it was not your fault. I’m sorry for ever believing otherwise.”

He shook his head, “I never blamed you for my death. I’ve told you this. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“I’m apologizing for turning you into a cautionary tale. For assuming things about your death.”

Jason looked anywhere but the the man in front of him, “Bruce–”

“Jason, you were 15 years old. You just wanted to get to know a mother you never knew you had. That’s understandable. It is comparatively more tame to what your siblings were doing around that age.” He locked eyes with Jason, “It wasn’t your fault. You were just a child. A child who had to grow up too quickly because none of the adults in your life could give you what you needed. And that includes me.” Bruce held both of Jason’s hands in his. An action that used to completely bury Jason’s hands, but now, both of their hands were relatively the same size. “I know you don’t like it when I… lament over your death, though it’s not just about not making it there in time. It’s because I left you alone with her, it’s because I let you track down Lady Shiva. It’s because I should’ve told you to take a break from Robin in a different way, because I knew you were hurting, but I didn’t know how to help you.”

Jason knew his mouth was hanging agape. And then he shut it, “I feel like that’s a recurring theme between us.”

Bruce offered him a small smile. One he hasn’t seen in a while, “We’ll figure it out eventually.”

And Jason knows that Bruce will try. He will try to reach Jason, try to figure out how to get back to him. But there's always that one day. That one day when he feels like they’re almost back to where they were before he died. There’ll always be something . Something that sends it all crashing down. And that something is usually Batman.

He knows that Bruce can never put the cowl down. It’s the same reason why the rest of them can’t either. It’s a special mix of adrenaline and guilt that keeps drawing them back to protecting people. In ways, it’s an addiction of sorts. And Bruce will always choose the addiction of being a hero over any of them.

Still, Jason nods whenever Bruce says he'll try harder. Because Jason is the moon. A cold and dry desolate landscape, and when water-the building block of life- when the oceans try to reach him, he can only try to reach back. He’ll always be grasping for something he’ll never be big enough to pull towards him.

“The real thing we should figure out… eventually, is why in the world did my dad have Lady Shiva in his contacts.”

It didn’t take long for Alfred to come home after that, and Dick and Younger Bruce came home around noon. Both Bruce's got to work on the beacon, while Jason and Dick help Alfred with chores around the house. It definitely made the top three most awkward moments of his life, death and life. Since he was actively trying to ignore the fact that their Alfred was dead and Dick was upset with him.

Jason spared a glance at Dick and found him staring again.

Furious.

Though Alfred definitely knew something Jason didn’t, because he was giving Dick his I know what you’re thinking, but not everyone can read your mind look that he usually reserved for Bruce. Dick glanced from Jason to Alfred, his face contorting into that weird mixture of grief and relief.

Oh.

Jason wasn’t the only one who lost Alfred. So did Dick, and he knew Alfred for much longer than Jason had. Alfred was more of Dick’s constant, than Jason’s. And Dick only seemed angry at Jason after he and Alfred had made dinner together.

He finished vacuuming the living room carpet, “I think I’m gonna head to the library.” and to the library he went.

The first book Jason was about to pick up was the Iliad. Then he remembered where the story of Icarus was from. And Icarus had wings and so do angels–

And they both fell.

They both died.

He shook his head and went to the Jane Austen section, and grabbed Sense and Sensibility. He went to the papasan chair he used to curl up in when he was younger. The one in their manor was gone. He’s now too grown to sit with his legs underneath him, without tipping over the chair, but still, being there in the library, with only a book for company, let him drift to the land of 19th century literature, without worrying about what was going on around them.

He was halfway through the book when Alfred came in, looking more tense than Jason’s ever seen him “the Joker is out of Arkham.”

Naturally . Jason went to put away the book he was reading, “Do we know where–”

“Gotham City Elementary.”

Jason stilled before practically running out of the library and to the cave, Alfred keeping pace with him. Gotham City High School was only a couple blocks away from the Elementary school. And he knew he kept a spare suit in his backpack when he was in high school, just in case a rogue attacked. There was no way he would stay behind if he knew, especially since Damian went to the elementary school.

Jason leaped down the stairs to get to where Younger Bruce was suiting up, and Dick and older Bruce were putting on spare dominoes. Jason reached to grab one too, but Dick swatted his hand away.

Jason reached again, “I’m sorry if you didn’t catch on, but I lost my helmet four realities ago.”

“No.” Dick slapped his hand away again, and fixed Jason with a hard glare, “You’re staying here.”

He blinked, “Excuse me?”

“You’re staying here. That’s final.” Dick strode towards the batmobile.

So Dick was still mad at him. Why was he still upset with him? It couldn’t’ve been the Alfred thing, because he gave them their time. It had to be something before that, “If you’re upset with me for… taking down those wing smugglers, just know the All Blades don’t work on anything that isn’t true evil–”

“I know that. That’s not– we don’t have time for this.”

“Exactly. We don’t have time for this. I’m coming.” Jason opened the drawer to grab a domino, and marched after him.

Dick scoffed, “No, you’re not.”

“Is it because I killed that Hyena version of the Joker ?”

He turned to face him, “No–”

“Then why? Do you not trust me or–”

“I could see you fading, Jason! You almost died! Again! Ok? And you keep dying! Ever since I got back from space and saw on the news that you were dead, I fucking thought that if I was there then–” Dick cut himself off, took a deep breath “Every single universe we go to, you keep dying, and we’re right there, but we can never do anything about it! And it’s not fine, but the only reason I’m not losing my mind over their deaths is that I keep telling myself that you are alive. That they’re not you, because you are my little brother. You keep dying. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Jason shook his head, “Dick… You know I can’t promise you that. Not with our line of work. You couldn’t even keep that promise.”

Dick leveled him with a glare.

This was a losing battle, wasn’t it? Jason went to sit on the swing. “I’ll stay.” they were probably going to leave this universe soon anyway.

He heard their footsteps leave the cave, and the sound of the batmobile driving off.

He knew Alfred sat down next to him, but he didn’t look. They watched the news play from the batcomputer. They watched as Robin led groups of classes out of the school. And then they couldn’t see the little boy dressed in traffic colors.

Alfred grasped his hand

They couldn’t see Batman, or Bruce and Dick enter the building, but he knew more groups of kids were making their way out of the building.

Jason leaned his head against Alfred’s shoulder, as they saw Batman rush out of the roof of the school with a bundle of yellow cradled to his chest. They watched as he grappled away.

Alfred went to prep the Medbay, while Jason knew where this was headed.

So he started collecting their things. Which, throughout their journey had dwindled down to very few things. Jason’s leather jacket. Dick’s phone. Bruce’s wallet. He also gathered some things he thought they would need. The list they made of each universe they’d been to. A copy of the blueprints of the beacon. He had to wander around to find the hidden weapon racks, but he stocked up on shurikens, and grabbed a pair of escrima sticks for Dick. stuffing them in various pockets of his leather jacket.

The engine of the Batmobile sounded through the cave, and before they heard the breaks of the car, they heard the doors swinging open.

And screaming. Blood curdling screams, but it wasn’t coming from Jay. Jason made his way to the batmobile, to find older Bruce sitting with his head against the wheel while Dick held a squirming Damian while sitting in the passenger seat.

“ AKHI! AKHI!! I WANT MY AKHI!”

Dick was attempting to rock Damian, lightly hushing him, but it wasn’t working.

“ Damian .” Bruce said it in a tone that was stern, yet soft. “Damian, your brother is really hurt right now. I know you want to see him, but your father and Alfred are working hard on trying to make him feel better.”

“B-but I want Jay-Akhi !” Damian squirmed again, but with significantly less effort.

They heard the doors to the cave fling open, as heels clacked against the stairs, and then across the floor. There was also the squeak of sneakers,

“Doctor Tompkins, the medbay,” Talia made her way to the batmobile, scooped Damian out of Dick’s arms and made her way over to the swing, setting Damian down, holding his face with both her hand, wiping away his tears, speaking in Arabic “Habibi, I am going to help with Jay-Akhi. Big Jay and Dickie will stay with you here, ok?”

“Is Jay-Akhi gonna be ok?”

“We will see.” Talia placed a kiss on Damian’s forehead, and motioned for older Bruce to follow her.

Jason moved to the batcomputer to play music to distract the boy. There was already a playlist for the boy, filled with mostly lullabies and slower Disney songs. He hit shuffle, and the first song was ‘Ma Belle, Evangeline’ from Princess and the Frog.

Dick sat down next to Damian, as Damian rested his head on Dick’s chest. He held the kid close, and rested his head on top of Damian’s.

The kid had a far off look in his eyes. Like he wasn’t really there with them. It was a look he saw in so many of the kids on the streets of crime alley. He wondered if he had that look when Bruce found him. If he thought being Robin would fix it in the same way it seemed to fix Dick. Being Robin never really fixed any of them though. It just gave them something else to focus on.

Jason grabbed a sticky note that was next to the batcomputer, and wrote Damian’s disassociating. Make sure he has someone to talk to. If not a league therapist, Elaine Thomas is a good option in Gotham. She’s also the mother of a kid you foster in the future. ~JTW

Jason went to sit on the opposite side of Damian, lightly rocking the swing with his foot. Thinking for a moment before asking in French, “ What happened?” Jason was 80 percent sure Damian wasn’t paying attention, but he didn’t want to accidentally trigger him.

Their Damian knew French, and this Damian was probably multilingual, but Jason was certain it was just the main languages spoken in the house. English, Arabic, Spanish, and Romanian.

“ The rest of the class was already out. The… monster made him watch as he beat robin with a crowbar. It was a trap.”

Jason frowned, “How did he know?”

“I don’t know. But he also knew about the lamb.”

Jason stilled. Was the Joker traveling from universe to universe with them? No, because he killed that version.

The heart monitor let out a high pitched whine. Jay was flatlining. Dick looked back to Damian who didn’t have any reaction to the noise. “The crazy man split open his skull and he made him watch.”

Jason leaned his head on Dick’s shoulder. “Talia’s going to kill him.”

“I know.”

The lights to the batcave seemed to get brighter and brighter. Until they were gone.

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #red hood #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #talia al ghul #bruce and talia #alternate universe #dimensional travel #robin jason todd

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multifandomfix · 4 months

Text

Better Days — Constance Langdon

Summary: You have a terrible day at work, and you just want to collapse and forget the day even happened until Constance comes over and makes it all a bit better.

Word Count: 396

Warnings: Little angsty, but mostly just fluff

The air inside the Murder House was thick with an eerie stillness as you stepped back inside of it. Tonight, the house felt more foreboding than usual, and it mirrored the heaviness in your body. It was as if it were matching itself to your mood. You could almost chuckle if you weren’t so exhausted.

You slumped onto the couch, weighed down by the challenges of the day. The memories of work lingered just as clearly as the ghosts, refusing to fade away. It was then that Constance Langdon, your formidable neighbor, came knocking at your door. You wordlessly let her in.

Constance, with her trademark Southern charm, approached you with a warm smile when she noticed your sour mood. She followed you back to the couch and took a seat beside you, allowing your head onto her lap as if you were a house cat. Her elegant fingers ran through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The touch was surprisingly warm, and very much welcome after the absolutely hellish day you’d had.

"There, there, my dear," she spoke in a soft and sympathetic tone. "Not every day is sunshine and roses, but you've got strength in you. I've seen it." You looked up at her, and her eyes met yours with a reassuring gaze.

Though you still didn’t say anything back, you felt a sense of comfort in her presence. You might have been feeling near your lowest, but there was someone who cared. Constance's hands continued their gentle tracks through your hair, each stroke an unspoken promise that you weren't alone.

As the moments passed, your mood seemed to lighten somewhat, and Constance leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Half asleep, you didn’t fight the lazy smile that formed on your lips at the affectionate gesture.

"You're stronger than you think, darling," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of her own experiences. "We all have our demons to face, but remember, you have the power to rise above them. There will always be better days."

With a final, reassuring pat on your shoulder, you started to believe the wisdom in her words. You realized you should probably let her go, but the heaviness of your eyelids made moving seem like too much of a chore. Instead, you snuggled into her and she stayed until you were asleep, watching over you.

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure

Constance Langdon: @iticaboopsyou, @brienneseveruscalaway, @derry-n, @bluenystic, @peggycarter-steverogers, @mars-rivers, @gothtrash6969, @callsigncrash, @somelonelywriter, @babygirlscout

#constance langdon #constance langdon x reader #american horror story #ahs #american horror story murder house #ahs murder house #request

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msweebyness · 4 months

Text

Theater Kids- Worst Experiences with Marinette/Ladybug

HERE IT IIIIS! The final part of this saga! Thanks to @artzychic27 for creating this little series, and as always, @imsparky2002! Enjoy!

Recess

Akuma

Science

Ayesha:

Ladybug became angry when the other heroes were far more prominently featured than her in Ayesha's latest cartoon

She called Ayesha's work 'cheap' and 'a little irritating' in an interview, devastating her and subjecting her to a bit of online bullying

Dot:

This girl tried to take advantage of Dot's position as secretary to get access to Adrien's personal files, and have her placed in all the same classes/activities as him

When Dot said no, because creepy, Marinette planted some evidence that almost got her kicked off the council for inappropriate conduct

Petra:

"Uh, I know you like that whole Decora look, and it's fine, it's your style, I'm not trying to be rude, but...there's such a thing as...going too far with accessorizing...your outfits are kinda...loud."

Petra gave their honest opinion, which Marinette ASKED FOR, on one of the bluenette's designs, and Marinette apparently didn't like what she had to say, so she ruined Petra's latest animation project "on accident".

Roxie:

This bitch had the audacity to insinuate that Roxie was to blame for the nasty break-up with their bitch of an ex-girlfriend, just because said ex happened to be a pretty influential client of hers. (FYI, that girl cheated on AND emotionally abused Roxie)

Has frequently called Roxie's temper 'scary' and 'dangerous', recommending that they should take anger management classes. (Bitch, what are you, a psychiatrist?!)

Anthony:

Not taking kindly to Anthony's trademark standoffish demeanor and snarky remarks, Marinette insinuated that Jesse shouldn't be dating such a jerk, and may or may not have implied that he's verbally and emotionally abusing him.

She also makes fun of and antagonizes him for being British , just because she can't stand Felix.

Candace:

Marinette got jealous when Adrien complimented Candace for an impressive stunt she'd performed while cheering at a DuPont basketball game

After coming back from half-time, she used her phone to reflect the sun from a nearby window into Candace's eyes, causing her to fall and break her wrist

Eri:

Marinette got angry and jealous when the gothic ballgown Eri had made beat out her own evening gown design for a fashion contest

When everyone had left the school for the day, Marinette destroyed the dress so Eri couldn't wear it to the awards ceremony

Staci:

Insinuated that Staci should be kicked off of cheer because her subdued demeanor and trademark snarkiness 'really dampened the team's spirit'.

She's also suggested that she cover up her birthmark with makeup

Margo:

Jealous that Margo's DIY accessories were more popular than hers at the school's craft sale, Marinette pretended to 'stumble' and wreck Margo's booth, destroying most of her work

Has actually called Margo's Nordic accent 'impossible to understand' and 'kind of annoying'.

Soo-Yeon:

Soo-Yeon accidentally made a foul against Adrien during a friendly basketball match, knocking him to the ground. Again, it was an ACCIDENT and Soo-Yeon apologized repeatedly.

Marinette didn't care about that however, when she purposely rolled a ball under Soo-Yeon when he attempted to dunk, causing him to go sprawling and dislocate his shoulder

In the "I Don't Have Enough Fabric to Make you an Outfit" Club

Parker:

In the "Vigilantism" club with Denise, publicly reprimanded by Ladybug for fending off an akuma with a self-defense maneuver when said villain was about to attack her and some of her classmates

Marinette frequently criticizes Parker's...militaristic fashion sense as well. (Parker/Gia: LET US WEAR OUR FUCKING CAMO DAMMIT)

Aggie:

Like with Gerard, Marinette is VERY aggressively accepting and tries to get Aggie to model for an 'inclusive' line, despite Aggie telling her repeatedly she is NOT comfortable in front of a camera.

Frequently tells Aggie that she needs to 'speak clearer' and 'use actual words'. It's called a Scottish accent, bitch! Shut up.

Brecken:

Constantly making backhanded and critical comments about Brecken's build and weight, comparing him to Kim in that regard, insinuating that 'maybe the rest of his body could use the same level of commitment as those beefy arms.'

STOP SAYING SHIT ABOUT PEOPLE'S ACCENTS, DUPAIN-CHENG

Mona:

Like with Simon, Marinette has tried to gaslight Mona into getting secret footage of Adrien while he's working on film projects, and actually sabotaged Mona's wheelchair when they refused.

Also frequently makes rude and backhanded comments about Mona being 'in the way' and 'slowing everyone down'

Evie:

Marinette couldn't stand when Evie and Adrien chose to perform a duet together in the school talent show, him playing and her singing, so she took drastic measures

She laced Evie's tea with cinnamon, which the girl is allergic to, causing her to have an anaphylactic reaction and leaving her unable to sing

Anais:

Marinette got jealous when Anais was assigned to tutor Adrien in chemistry and tried to spy on them. She got angry when Anais noticed she was there and asked her to please leave.

She sabotaged Anais' chemistry midterm, earning them a failing grade and getting it in HUGE trouble with her parents.

Jesse:

Marinette got angry with Mylene for refusing to give up her role in a movie as romantic co-leads with Adrien

In retaliation, she took a picture of Jesse and Mylene hugging and jacked up the angles with some editing to make it look like they were kissing. She posted it on the school blog and spread rumors that Mylene was cheating on Ivan with Jesse.

Eloise:

Eloise was having trouble carrying all of her math books for a formula she was working on, so Adrien stopped to help her.

Witnessing this, Marinette became jealous and took advantage of the fact Eloise couldn't see over the tall stack of books to trip her so she smashed her head on a locker, leaving her with a (Thank God) minor concussion.

Missy:

Screamed and made a HUGE scene the first time she saw Missy's 'freakish' teeth, asking why she doesn't file those down.

Doesn't appreciate her sharp attitude and has actually openly called her a bitch

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs! Hope you enjoyed this!

#miraculous ladybug #mlb ocs #theater kids #marinette dupain cheng #marinette salt

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the-thistle-king · 1 month

Text

Teàrlach stood before the prison bars, staring down at Carmichael with his trademark sneer. He had clearly lost weight during his imprisonment, cheeks somewhat gaunt.

"Humans are such fragile creatures." Teàrlach mused, bending to push a tray of stale bread with a goblet of water under the bars. "Go on then, perform your little ritual, minister. It amuses me so." Carmichael had been sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, and he scooted himself closer to take the tray. "Many thanks!" He set it on his lap, and closing his eyes with raised hands he said, "Fy nhad yn y nefoedd, bless this food so graciously given by my captors, strengthen my lovely Isibéal, and bring your divine justice to Dál Riata. Amen."

Teàrlach's fanged grin only widened, pressing his face closer to the bars, he jeered, "Much good your prayers are, holy man. Seems your god has forgotten you here. Yet you continue to bleat at the sky. Hilarious."

Carmichael had torn the loaf into small pieces, quietly listening to the revenant's words as he ate. He took a sip of water and replied, "Oh? What makes you think my prayers go unanswered?" Teàrlach stepped back, gesturing around the stone room. "If I'm not mistaken, you still appear to be imprisoned. Unless you have acquired a key from the heavens that slipped my notice."

"That's your first mistake, Mr. Teàrlach. You're under the impression my prayers are for escape. I don't remember requesting such a thing." Carmichael popped the final piece of bread into his mouth and grinned. "I believe my work here is not done."

Teàrlach's grin faded, his eyes narrowed as he stared down the minister. "Work? What work are you referring to? You've been wasting away in this cell for months now. You've accomplished nothing. And will continue to accomplish nothing. Your miniscule human mind clearly cannot handle prison." Carmichael cheerfully clapped his hands onto his knees and smiled. "I've been speaking to you, haven't I?"

The revenant's eyes blazed, his teeth bared. "You think you're getting to me? Your holy book will pierce my degenerate heart, we'll hold hands and sing songs with the other degenerates you've proselytized to? Is that what you're seeking?"

Carmichael rested his cheek in his hand, thinking a moment. "Well, hand holding isn't typical practice during worship—" he looked back up, grinning. "But, yes! I would be pleased if such a thing occurred!" Teàrlach waved him off. "I'm afraid I'd burst into flames the moment I entered your holy place. Filth such as I daren't revile your temple."

Carmichael's eyes almost glittered, and he leaned forward. "If we're measuring the weight of our transgressions, I'm afraid none would be able to enter; least of all myself." Teàrlach threw his head back and laughed scornfully at the minister. "My hands are stained with the blood of my Lady's enemies. When I wake, I curse whoever caused my damnable resurrection on this ball of mud. You claim to be equal in my misdeeds? I daresay, you have never batted a hand at a fly in your life."

Carmichael exhaled deeply, running his fingers along the hem of his trousers. "I assure you, Mr. Teàrlach, I am capable of this and worse. All have sinned, and fallen short. There is none who does good, apart from our savior." He looked solemn for a moment, before looking up and meeting Teàrlach's gaze. "Yet he shed his blood so we may be forgiven. If you yourself repent and believe, your sins may be washed clean."

The revenant's face contorted in confusion at first, then rage, after. "Have you been stricken deaf? The blood of thousands covers my hands! I have ripped babe from mother and dashed them to pieces! Villages have been leveled for my Lady's amusement. The stench of death follows like my own shadow!"

Carmichael swayed side to side, cheerfully singing, "Oh, precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow~!" Teàrlach grabbed the bars of the cell, shaking them and shouting, "Silence! I will heed no more of these falsehoods! You think honeyed words will grant your freedom? I am not so easily moved! Rot here and cry to your god, he will save neither of us." He swept out of the room, not before giving Carmichael another glance, his expression almost fearful.

The minister heaved a sigh, laying back onto the floor and leaning his legs against the wall. "Tomorrow is another day." He smiled and continued his song, which followed Teàrlach out of the jail and remained in his mind the rest of the night.

#blurb #im throwing this at u and *running* before I start feeling nauseated #if i utter a heresy i *need* you to kill me #nothing makes me realize how SHIT my theology is until i try to write timmy

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tehriel · 8 months

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Alright, a few ideas for you. Any of these can be turned into filth, and I will be delighted. I imagine the reader as a Ghoul and nonbinary/afab, but it doesn't matter:

- Sodo and a shy reader that has a crush on him. He has noticed them watching him, but they'll never be the one to make the first move.

- Mountain and a ghoul reader who have been friends for a while. The reader has developed feelings for Mountain but is afraid to admit them and risk losing him, but Mountain can tell something is up.

- Omega has noticed that the reader has been around him more often and coming to him with work related questions. He begins to realize they have a crush on him, and they’re just trying to spend more time with him but are too nervous to just ask to hang out.

I got you friend~ Thank you for your prompts

I find shy readers really close to home to write about haha, I might try it one day it just would be so close to how I act in real life, and I just wanna escapppeee kekek

I took the Mountain prompt, fluffed around with it, gave him some insecurities. He is just a sweetie pie. I added a self-insert, let me know if you spot them, weheheh

The very mature rating can be found under the line and the explicit on AO3. Over 18 please my friends~

If anyone else wants to send me prompts, I prefer scenarios to kinks~ I am a bit on the demi/ace spectrum. Romance/feelings>smut and i like the option of not writing smut if I am not feeling it :3

I have a fun Swiss one coming up next~

Thank you for reading!

“Eyy, _____.”

“How’s it hanging, Swiss?” You walked to your usual meeting spot with Mountain, your usual surveillance partner in tow. The spot was where the ministry grounds met the edge of the surrounding pine forest. The pines were made for privacy but also hid unwelcome visitors from view, which meant there always had to be at least one pair of ghouls watching the treeline. The sun was beginning to down so you were trading shifts with Swiss and Dewdrop.

Swiss had to think momentarily and cocked his head of long dreads. “To the left, I think,” he replied, squinting.

“Huh, unusual for you,” you shrugged. You could feel Moutain beside you; you had had a new awareness for him of late. He was a big creature of few words hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and a thick fringe of hair.

“Eh, switching it up a little bit,” Swiss gave a trademark grin.

“How about you, Dew?” You prompted.

“I’m afraid you’re just going to have to check for yourself, _____,” he had a mean smile, which wasn’t something he could help; his brows were always in a kind of downcast scowl regardless of mood.

“Is that a challenge?” You piqued a brow, “you know that generally doesn’t work out well for you, dickweed.”

Mountain stood a little taller beside you.

He may not speak much, but you could tell when chaos mode was about to engage. He usually followed you into any bullshit your mouth got you into.

“Your big fuzzy protector has been clipped, _____,” Dew smirked.

“I don’t need help pantsing you, short shit,” you chuckled.

“Bring it on, Peanut,” Dew leered; a ghoul after your own heart, almost always looking for violence.

“Speaking of clipping,” Swiss interrupted what was going to be a ghoulish brawl followed by many ripped pants. “Mountain, it’s your first day back, right?”

“Yeah,” he looked down at the cast on his arm. He was bound up with a sling and still had a few plasters on his face. Ghouls healed fast—just not that fast.

Your gaze fell, playfulness leaching from you. You were trying not to acknowledge it like it could be any other day. Mountain’s arm had been broken in four places during your last watch together.

“You good to do this? You need a third?” Sodo prompted. He was genuine, and you hated when he was genuine because that usually meant something was wrong.

You would usually pass him off in an instant, but in that moment, you deemed it not your call to make.

You felt Mountain’s awareness on you; you could feel it more intensely these days—it was nothing he was doing on purpose. It was all you.

“Nah, I only need one hand,” his voice was softer than his appearance might suggest and was tipped with an accent he’d picked up with some time in Australia.

“You see anything to look out for?” You asked as if it was completely fine, and you had this, and you had all the confidence in the world for returning to the job.

“Uh… there was a Nymph?” Swiss said after a while of thinking, “But it will probably try to seduce you more than anything.”

“Huh, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a Nymph,” you frowned.

“I wouldn’t go near it,” Dew wrinkled his nose, “that weird pollen shit.”

You rolled your eyes; the real reason why Dew wouldn’t go near it was because it wasn’t on any kind of hitlist. If murder wasn’t on the table, neither was Dew. “Right, if that’s it, you can skedaddle, lads,” you thumbed over your shoulder back towards the cathedral.

“Get some rest,” Mountain agreed.

Dew clicked his tongue, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure if you stay any longer, you will be without pants,” you promised.

“Peanut…” Dew warned, and Swiss threw an arm around him to tug him away.

“Later, _____,” Swiss grinned.

“See you at breakfast,” you handed out two stealthy ass-smacks as they passed.

“Ooo, I’m gonna…” Dew grumbled as Swiss laughed, dragging him away.

You chuckled, and it was quiet again without them. Just you and Mountain, the way it always was—the way it should be. Your big, tall lampshade of a companion. Your brother from another demonic nightmare. Your good time boy. Silence had never been awkward between you two, so who should it be then? He was usually quiet anyway, happy to listen as you run your mouth. Nothing should be different. Nothing would be different.

You had a track you usually followed through the treeline, under and over logs, scouting up certain trees. Finding the peaks of the valley and surveying was commonplace, but what wasn’t typical was that you didn’t know what to do with your hands as you walked. Pockets(?) How much hands swaying as you walked was too much hand swaying? Arms crossed just looked defensive.

“______?”

“What’s up, Mounty?” You had chosen to rest your arms behind your head like some anime character. Looked cool in anime—less cool in real life.

“Something’s wrong.”

You stopped, you listened. You peeled your eyes to the underbrush. You couldn’t sense anything, but Mountain had pointier ears than yours; you’d always wondered if he heard more. “What’s up? Is it the nymph?” Your voice was barely a breath in volume.

“With you, _____,” he smiled softly at your readiness.

You sagged. “Ya scared me; what do you mean?” You asked and continued on your usual winding path. It was a bright moon, your pupils dilated, and you saw much of the forest as you would during the day, just bluer.

“You’re acting strange.”

“Feels like that’s on brand for me,” you shrugged.

“You’ve usually tried to climb me three times by now.”

“Not my fault, you’re very high ground,” you muttered. “Fine, you’re injured, Mounty… so it’s…”

“You think I can’t handle you while I’m like this?” He chuckled.

You swallowed. It was as innocent as anything Mountain usually said to you. He was right, of course; the guard duty was long and tedious, and you liked to try and wrestle him most days. He could throw you over his shoulder and put you in the bin easily enough, but he always indulged you anyway. He was your best friend. Your partner in crime. You needed him to be that. “Yeah, you’re delicate goods right now,” you grinned at him to shrug it off. Well, ‘at him’ was a general term—you’d been having trouble looking at him of late.

“Delicate goods?” You heard the frown in his voice. “Can’t have saying things like that.” He said and bobbed down.

It was so sudden you took some staggered steps forward and had to tune around to figure out what he was up to. “Huh?”

“Hop aboard, ______.”

“Oh…” it shouldn’t be weird; it wasn’t weird; riding Mountain’s shoulders was commonplace. He was slow-moving, so anyone quick enough could usually climb up and hop aboard. He never seemed to mind. “Yeah… yeah…” You eased yourself into the idea; yeah, that made sense—It was Mountain; he was literally named for climbing.

You swung a leg over him, and he stood quickly.

“You good up there, Peanut?”

Peanut was something stupid some of the other ghouls tended to call you; it was odd to hear it from him. Maybe it was an accident? “Hell, yeah, the best seat in the house—Ghoul Rangers battle morph~” you tried to screw around with your usual shenanigans, but your ears felt hot. “Forest better prepare its anus; we’re in our final form!”

He chuckled and petted one of your thighs before continuing on your usual path.

Fucking hell, what was happening? He always did that, but… why was it different? You didn’t want it to be different.

“You know I…” Mountain murmured but lost the words.

Where did you put your hands? It was usually his hair or horns… but that felt… too much. Fuck, just do it like you used to. You reached into his soft, scruffy locks, his scalp warm against your fingertips. Your gut was jelly. “What’s up, big guy?” Somehow, your voice didn’t waver.

“I know I took this hit—but I can still protect you,” he squeezed your thigh.

Damn it. What was he doing to you? “Mounty…”

“You’ve seemed distant recently, ______.”

At least from this position, you didn’t have to look him in the eye. Unless he somehow pulled an exorcist on you. That’d be weird. “Have I? I think I’m just aware I’m a bit, uh, rough… sometimes—“

“I’m still strong enough to be at your side.” He had added a little gravel to give voice.

You tried to hide the shiver in your spine by stretching. Was he hurting that you had withdrawn ever since the accident with the nephilim? He was still your best friend. “It’s… It’s not that big guy.”

“What is it?”

“I’m your partner, so I shouldn’t have let you get hurt like that. You like protecting me—but it’s my job to watch your back too.” You ran your fingers against him as a self-indulgence. “And seeing you hurt like that…” made you realise a few things about how important he was to you. “I failed you, Mounty.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “no way, Peanut—it just happens sometimes. And I saw you turn on the bugger, extremely fucking sexy; I’ve never seen you go to town like that.”

Nothing new to call each other sexy. Banter was what you both thrived off. Never before had you been so scarlet. You could only hope the blood rush didn’t reach your legs in his purview. You had to segue. “What’s up with the Peanut?”

“Oh, I just thought Dew called you that, so it was just… and you guys seem close, so…” you felt him shrug.

“Dickwad only calls me that because he said if I ever grew a dick, it would look like a peanut—which feels very pot calling the kettle… Dude has a fucking acorn.”

You felt his shoulder quake with mirth. “Do the rest of the pack know that?”

“Sometimes things just stick,” you grimaced.

“Either way… You never have to worry about being too rough with me, ______.” He said softly, “I—I’ve missed you,” his head rested to the side for a moment, and you felt his cheek against your thigh.

So then you imagined his lips on your thigh, just a chaste moment. Just… you swallowed. Sparks rippled over your skin. You had to stow it, and you had to do it quickly.

You heard him sniff. “______?” Was his voice deeper, or were you imagining it?

“Hm?”

“There’s a nymph in this forest…” he muttered. His hand slid over your leg, and you felt the sweat of his palm through your uniform pants.

“Oh…” and what ‘oh’ meant was there was a little forest trickster running around with weird, sexy pollen powers. Hopefully, what you were feeling could be blamed solely on that. “You good?”

“Yeah.. yeah… she’ll be right.”

You were so close you could usually tell what he meant regardless of what his mouth said. He was turned on then. The idea ignited something you wanted to stay unlit. “Yeah, we’re big ghouls, plus we’re best friends, so we wouldn’t…”

“We wouldn’t…?”

“Yeah, we’re like a hundred years of plutonic companionship impervious to nymphy bullshit, right?”

“Y-yeah, exactly.”

“Hey, tree person, fuck off!!” You called. “Earth is kinda your domain, right? How do we scare the jerk away?”

He didn’t immediately answer.

“Mounty?”

“Oh, they’re just looking for fun.”

“See we just… be unexciting?” But what could be more salacious to a nymph than a person suddenly wanting their own best friend? Suddenly realising you loved them and wanted them to yourself—that you were suddenly jealous of anyone he looked at? That his body, which you knew as well as your own, called to you? You’d dreamt of him, too.

He hummed softly, and you felt the vibrations of it between your legs.

“Right, you gotta let me down—“

“______?” He whispered your name and paused.

“We should maybe split up,” you muttered.

“Ah.. right, good… yep..” he bobbed back down.

You stepped from his shoulder and couldn’t really look at him. You ran a sweaty hand through your hair. “I’ll just go the opposite direction and find you on the road again, hum?”

“That… sounds right.” He wasn’t looking at you, either.

“Uh, yell if you need me, Mounty.”

“Yeah..”

“Yep.”

You didn’t stall; you walked away quickly. You had a very old friendship to preserve, which meant finding yourself a nymph.

***

You didn’t stay on the path.

You were out for blood. Your stomach only churned harder the deeper you got into the underbrush. The want for your best friend became unbridled lust, and you fought for the centre of the pollen cloud. He meant more to you than some little shit’s entertainment.

“Where are you, you little shit?” You glowered. Mountain was nature and strength. A gentle giant. You were a hot head; you were speed, tracking and assassination. You were going to peel the flesh from its little bones… You could smell it. It was something sweeter than grass and a little bit citrusy. Like lemonade during a summer’s picnic. The closer you got, the more flushed you got.

There came a break in the trees. Moonlight shimmered in a pool of water, and with it, the green glimmer of a nymph. You would wring its little pixie neck, you would...

“Oh, hello, friend~!” They sat on a rock in the middle of the lake.

Oh no. No. They were cute. Green skin, big broccoli hair, twinkly doe eyes and a sweet smile. The nymph had a book in their hands and was writing in it with a teeny quill while they hitched up their thick coke-bottle glasses.

“F-friend?” You choked and felt you had to hide your claws.

“Uh, huh,” they beamed and hid their weeny little diary behind their back. Just what had they been writing in there? “How did it go?! Did you confess your love to one another?” They stood up, fixed their little petal dress, and beamed at you. They were… so smol.

“N-no… hey, I don’t want… we don’t want. We both… and it’s not like that…”

They frowned, “Nu-uh,” you pouted childishly. “I can smell the butterflies in your stomach, the tingles in your nose all the way to your toes~~~”

“Well, I don’t want it.”

“Don’t… don’t want it?” Their eyes somehow got even bigger.

“Just.. I don’t want…” you sighed. “Relationships come and go, but Mountain is my forever partner.”

“You love him~” they sparkled, ignoring the whole ‘I don’t want’ statement.

“I do. More than wanting sort of… all this…” You gestured to all the invisible pollen in the air.

They actually started crying.

“Oh… oh…. That’s… there are plenty of ghouls to screw around with, you know… I’m good not, uh, doing this… There is one called Dew; he sometimes goes by Sodomiser. It would be very funny to screw around with him,” you nodded fervently.

“Friend….” They sniffled on their rock in the middle of the pond.

“Please—let me make my own choices,” you sagged.

Their lip trembled.

“Please.”

They nodded slowly, and you felt some of the grip lessen over your stomach.

“Thank you,” you sighed.

“I hope you reconsider,” she sniffed.

“It’s… not likely,” you grimaced, and your stomach dropped a little for the first time at the idea of it. Companions for life, but… You would both eventually find other ghouls, wouldn’t you? What then? And you shouldn’t act just at the possibility of him having someone else. He saw you like a sibling—you approaching him like that out of the blue would be uncomfortable for him, and then you really would ruin everything. You massaged your head.

“______…”

You heard Mountain call your name, and your head whipped. “I have to go…” You began walking backwards.

“I’ll see you later, friend~” they sparkled.

“______!”

You began stealthing. What could be out here that you didn’t smell? Was he okay? You remembered the nephilim standing over him; he’d been thrown back into the treeline, felling at least three trees before his body had come to a stop. His head had cracked back. You’d thought for a moment he was dead. Mountain. Your great Mountain. You’d seen red. That couldn’t happen again.

You moved through the branches of the fir forest with a light step and bloodlust humming in your veins. Anyone who dared touch Moutnain would… He wasn’t on the track, and he was alone.

“….______….” His voice was low and broken. He faced a tree trunk, forehead pressed to the bark. A short, frustrated sound came from him like he hated something. He was in loathing.

Was he okay? Was there an enemy you couldn’t see? You perched on the bough and waited to pounce.

“I… hmm…” Mountain’s gentle voice came out strained. He whimpered, pained.

You were about to rush to him.

“Fuck, _____, just like that… I… shouldn’t… I want you. D-damn it…” he groaned low, hunching further to drag his horns against the trunk like a rutting bull elk.

Oh. You took in the slack of the ghoul’s uniform pants around his waist. The slight thrust of his hips. You recognised the wet sounds. You had thought the nymph’s thrall was over… it was over, wasn’t it? You went beet red. You shouldn’t see this, you should leave. You turned around and stepped for the next branch to give him privacy.

“______… don’t look at Dew like that…” There then came a low, tortured groan. Seemed he was in pain. Your best friend was hurting. “My… my… love… you’re so… I hate myself for…”

Your heart was cleaved clean in two.

Mountain froze as he felt the pressure of your forehead against the middle of his back. “______?… shit… Sorry, the nymph…”

You rubbed your face against him. “The nymph isn’t controlling us any more.”

“I.. I’m sorry… I…”

When had he started hurting like this? You curled your tail to his leg and snuggled his body to you. “Are you okay, Mounty?”

He sagged into you. “No.”

“Me neither,” you murmured. “…what do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I,” you held him tighter like he would somehow disappear. “I think I love you Mountain,” You wanted to hide in him; your voice trembled.

“I love you too, ______.”

You stayed hidden behind him as if nothing would change if you didn’t move. You felt his cast rub at your arms around his middle. You heard the clumsy one-handed zip of his pants being done up.

“Broke the wrong hand, huh?” You chuckled into his back.

“Yeah.” His shoulders relaxed, and he laughed softly.

You’d made a joke, which somehow meant you’d both be okay. “Maybe I’ll give you a hand later, huh?” You grinned.

“_______,” he moaned, and you felt the tuft of his tail run against your leg. “Uh… sorry…” he tugged his tail to him. He looked back at you, worry knitting his brows, and his glasses still fogged.

You let him go so that he could turn around properly. “Hey, big guy.”

“Hey,” His green eyes washed down your face. “I… want to kiss you,” he averted his gaze, “Is that something we do now or should we not…? I can’t lose you, so I don’t know…”

“I can’t lose you either. I also want to kiss you, though—maybe it will be weird, and we would hate it, and then we can just return to how it was?” You guessed.

“Yeah.. that..” he swallowed and hesitantly leaned down for you to reach for him, leaving you with the decision to make.

You tentatively reached for his neck. Your nose brushed his like an electric current ran you through. You kissed your best friend’s mouth—and he kissed you back with hunger, groaning into your mouth. He teased your tongue with his own. You only parted when you were both breathless.

“I…” your bridge pressed his, “I didn’t hate it…”

He hummed, his eyes closed, and brows contorted in pain. “More..” he growled softly to your lips before he took them for himself. His unbound arm wrapped your waist. Were his hands always so large?

#mountain ghoul #mountain x reader #ghost band fic #one shot

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savkirschtein · 1 year

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SNK character college au fashion headcanons pt.2

AOT character modern style headcanons

Based solely off of my opinions of characterizations of each character

Characters mentioned: Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschstein, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus, Marco Bodt

Warnings: none

Eren Jaeger:

110% got to where he is now style wise because of Mikasa

Some gorpcore going on

Now a lot more comfortable trying different types of pieces and layering

Doesn’t do much with anything outside of dark neutrals

When all else fails he goes to his baggy leather jacket

When he feels a little spicy he will add a tie to his white button up and layer it with a leather jacket

Usually will go to a baggy pair of cargos and oversized tee for class

Mikasa Ackerman:

Mikasa definitely dapples into grunge fashion with a little touch of acubi

She is an entire thrift flip and sewing GOD, she knows how to tailor and make certain thrift finds to her taste. And even makes her own clothing

LOVES layering and always always knows how to make it look so cohesive

Looks like a fashion design student but isn't...if anything she makes the fashion design majors on campus QUAKE

Distressed tights and leather platform enthusiast

Armin Arlert:

Our soft boy always

won't catch him outside of anything that isn't knit or cotton

always will prioritize being comfortable and breathable for school

but never makes it look bummy

Loves a good loafer every now and then. Stays stacked with sweater vests, cardigans, and button ups

Definitely didn't take notes from other dudes he would see in cafes while he would study

Jean Kirschstein:

Sticks to basics, that aren't basic looking but more so timeless and effortless

Anything neutral he is all for

Loves a good button up tank combo

Can catch him with an army green shoulder bag at almost all times on campus, in his head it's a 2 in 1. Solid for carrying his sketchbook and supplies but also just a good add onto all his fits

Has a plethora of leather jackets

Connie Springer:

The Conman is the street style expert

Definitely has moved past his hype beast street style phase

Takes pride in knowing that he is, if not always one of the best dressed dudes in his classes

Inspirations from Tyler The Creator and Steve Lacy

Loves experimenting with layers and accessories, but has learned that less is more

confidently believes he singlehandedly brought back jorts on campus

wears a crossbody at all times

Sasha Braus:

Moved out of her grunge fairy core, mini shirt & baggy jean phase

Loves pulling inspo from 90s and 2000s downtown girl fashion

Layering and knit wear are her faves

You know she will always prioritize comfort but not at the expense of looking cute

Forces Connie to take daily fit pics of her in the library

Has a claw clip in at all times

Loves stripes and other cute patterns

Marco Bodt:

Clean boy aesthetic personified

Loves adding a good jacket over anything

Cute boy in the library core lmao

Cuffing his jeans is his trademark

sticks to classic vintage chuck 70s converse, reeboks, or old school vans

That cute boy who instead of wearing a backpack to class, wears a tote bag or shoulder bag instead

#aot modern au #attack on titan headcanons #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirschtein #connie springer #sasha braus #marco bodt #aot college au #Spotify

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lonelycowgirls · 1 year

Text

Leather Bomb

I read Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid last year and much like pretty much everyone else on the planet, I loved it. The concept really inspired me and I've had this piece saved to my laptop for months, so I got home today and thought, "why not post it, we'll see what people think."

This is a little taster for it, I'm not 100% on a name for the series, I just wanted to test the waters. Of course, this is a work of fiction, so it's not tied to real-life events and timelines. It's just a bit of fun.

Enjoy, like and reblog.

Nel xo

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.7k

Interviewer: Veronica Styles… thanks so much for joining us. I think I speak for everyone when I tell you how much of an honour it is for you to agree to a chat with us.

Veronica: The pleasure is all mine. You have my rider… Styles gives me a wink from across the coffee table between us.

Interviewer: I’d love to go back to the beginning. Your story is so fascinatingly illusive it seems almost a crime to not delve into the origins. You’ve had an almost Priscilla Presley level of intrigue present in your life, tell me about how you dealt with that when you first met Harry.

Veronica: Well, it’s quite funny actually… to be here talking with you about this in this format. It definitely makes me feel old. Harry always used to say, ‘I’ll open up about our life when I’m old and grey and all this is a memory.’ She gestures to her white hair, as curly as it was when she was in her 20s. Her husband famously said he would retire from the spotlight at 50 years old. The musician has since recently released his 30th album at the age of 72. It’s your lucky day, darling. I suppose I can see how you would get to that comparison but it feels very strange to connect myself with Priscilla. Elvis is an icon and was a real change of pace for pop culture in the 60s. She pauses and then a cat-like smile slides itself across her face. I suppose Harry was, is, very similar. I know it’s reductive to think of him as simply a husband and a father but that is who he is to me, it’s difficult to see him as anything else. To acknowledge your question, I simply didn’t deal with it. It was very much a head stuck in the sand situation for me. Harry was not an easy person to deal with in those days. He’s mellowed out a lot now, granted he’s in his 70s and, if anything, more stubborn than ever. But you see, Harry was a package deal. To love him, was to love his lifestyle, his job, his fame, his manager, his publicist, and his fanbase. She chuckles fondly, reminiscence present on her features. We used to joke about how we were one step away from having his personal assistant in bed with us… I dealt with that in my own way, and I suppose I have regrets when it comes to that. I was very young… She answers coyly and open-ended; a Styles trademark. I have a feeling I may have touched a slightly exposed nerve with my question.

Interviewer: You were 17 years old when you and Harry met. Can you remember what your first thoughts were during that meeting? People often talk about a shift when they meet significant people.

Veronica: I think I have a slightly tainted point of view on that sentiment. It’s almost… artificial. Because, when we met it did feel very significant because everyone was telling me how significant it was. So, while I absolutely agree that I knew I’d met someone special, it’s because I truly had. I’d met someone that was incredibly famous, successful and who was culturally disruptive. I suppose it wasn’t until later on that I realised it was a different kind of special. A special that was going to have a personal effect on my life.

Interviewer: You couldn’t possibly have known at that time that you would marry this man and have children with him. Did you have any inkling in yourself that you would even meet him again?

Veronica: I hoped that I would. I used to always laugh when reading about people who fall in love with their future partners at the first meeting because I just didn’t think that was possible. Harry and I were electric, we didn’t realise it at the time, but looking back it was truly a match of souls, as lovey-dovey as that sounds. When you’re young, everything feels colossal in terms of importance. Because as bad as it sounds, your world revolves around you. And, I don’t know, hormones are raging and in abundance. So, your reactions to things are super-powered. I thought of nothing else after I’d met Harry. He’s an old man now, but you have to understand the level of sexual magnetism he held, the charisma. He was incredibly wanted and lusted after. He was everything young girls wanted and dreamed of. I was never immune to that, the usual trope is, ‘I liked her because she was different, she didn't fawn over me’. I’m not admitting that I fawned, but I didn't have the cool girl demeanour people often attach to me. I was very aware and receptive to his effect on me as a young woman. So, yeah, I was desperate to meet him again once I had. But more in the way of a teenager wanting to see her crush again; it was natural.

Interviewer: Can you remind us of that first meeting?

Veronica: Oh, gosh. Okay, so Harry’s story is always different, to be honest, I don’t think he even remembers fully because parts of it change every time he tells it. I laugh as she rolls her eyes. All I know is he took a liking to me when we first met, but he didn't make much of an effort to follow up on that. At that point, women were queuing up to offer him anything he wanted, and he didn't have time to pursue someone he didn't know or who wasn’t game for it, if you know what I mean. His time was taken up, let's just say that. So, anyway, we met at an arena; my friend and I had signed up for agency work at a hospitality company and we’d been sent out to Manchester International Arena, and they were hosting the Brits there. So, we’d been put on VIP drinks service, Harry at that time, was not at VIP level, he’d get there eventually as we know. But it was an odd time because he was very famous and beloved within his fanbase, but the general public were taking time to, kind of, catch up to that. But his friend, Ed Sheeran, was enjoying the VIP experience and took Harry as a sort of unofficial plus one, I say unofficial but he was never kicked out so I don’t think anyone had a problem with him being there. I was working the bar and I saw him standing around a tall table, chatting and laughing. But he has this nervous tick, where he scratches the back of his neck and when he had long hair he’d toss it all forward, ruffle it up and then flick his head, kind of, off to the side and smooth it through his fingers. He did that A LOT. And I remember thinking, ‘this guy is gonna get a crick in his neck if he does that anymore tonight’. But he did, and each time he did it he’d glance around him and then try to look interested in the conversation he was supposed to be having. I only learned this was a nervous tick when I noticed his hands were shaking. And I mean, shaking. Anyway, I think I must have watched him do that about seven times before he looked around and caught my eyes. I was very shy so I looked away immediately, I was so embarrassed but I couldn’t help but glance back and I saw him still looking with a smirk on his face. But he also had this quizzical look in his eyes. I always say to him, you looked at me like I was a crossword and you just couldn’t wait to get the last clue to complete it. Very whimsical of me, I know. She laughs again and fiddles with the ends of her hair, shaking her head thoughtfully. She hasn’t made much eye contact with me by this time, choosing to glance just past me. He didn't speak to me until the very end of the VIP service. He came up and asked for my name. I told him and he drew it out long in his accent, but not like my accent, I knew immediately he was from Cheshire. It’s like a posh version of a proper northerner, he hates when I say that, so definitely put that in. I bet you can’t believe how much I remember. It’s sad, isn’t it?

Interviewer: Absolutely not, this is gold. I don’t suppose you remember what he said to you?

Veronica: Not completely. Probably something smug ‘cause he’s a cocky git when he wants to be. She properly laughs. I just know that I felt warmth when he was close. He was very attentive and very easy to talk to… but very hard to actually draw anything significant from, you probably remember that from his interviews. Before he left he decided to down his drink, not very impressively, and he stared at me while he did it. He slammed his glass down on the bar, gave me a nod and then he was gone.

Interviewer: Okay, so you meet Harry at 17. Then most people will be shocked to hear that you didn't meet him again until much later, is that accurate?

Veronica: Yes, a lot of people think that we are somewhat childhood sweethearts. It was nice at the time for people to believe that. Harry doesn’t like to talk about relationships at all in the public sphere, that’s why I’ve never actually spoken much to the media before now. We didn't start actually seeing each other romantically until I was about… 23, I think? So, he was 25, he’d left his band and gone out on his own. Height of fame and success, he was seeing Camille Rowe, yeah… all that good stuff. She seems uneasy again but shakes it off with a smile in my direction. I’d just completed my degree and I was training as a nurse. So… She pauses for a long time, almost a minute, staring and thinking. This is a story that I don’t think anyone has heard before… it’s going to be odd telling it. All I’ll say to preface it is that it is and was a real source of emotional turmoil for everyone involved. I nod and try to ensure her that as a journalist, I personally cannot in good conscience take on a story that she doesn’t want to tell. She reassures me. I’m not getting any younger, it’ll be somewhat... freeing to finally open up about it.

Let me know what you think!

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles fic rec #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #love on tour #harry styles concept #daisy jones and the six

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