#i noticed this for the first time while reading a she-ra fic and they used a line a lot of bnha writers use for bakugo and i just knew | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

baticorngirl · 3 years

Text

Title: Scribbles of Love

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship(s): Talia Al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (Brutalia), Talia Al Ghul & Unnamed Child, Bruce Wayne & Unnamed Child,

Characters: Talia Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Minor Original Character(s),

Summary: Miraculously, Bruce and Talia have been married for quite a long time now. In fact, their first year anniversary is coming around the corner, and it's suddenly dawned on Bruce that he doesn't have anything to give her. He soon decides he wants to give her a love poem, but there's only one problem: Bruce sucks at writing poetry. As the anniversary comes closer and closer, will Bruce manage to write a half-decent love poem in time?

A/N: This fic is for @brutalia-week Day 1: “I made it for you”. It takes place in an alternate universe where Batman: Son of the Demon worked out. I think that’s all you need to know before you begin, so... enjoy!

(The fanfic is under the line below, but if you’d prefer to, you can also read it on Ao3(x) and FF.net (x)!)

__________________________________________________

Talia was training, as usual. Her feet were planted to the ground like a tree's deep roots, with her knees bent ever so slightly to get a good stance. The smile on her face was soft, but she made sure her strikes were anything but. Like Ra's has taught her so many years back, her moves were smooth and fast, a bit graceful… but powerful. The sword in her hand would've demolished anything in its path, as it zoomed around the room…. if she had been aiming for anything but an imaginary opponent, that is. Her hair flew into the air as she abruptly bent down (while still attempting to keep her feet as well-planted as possible) to swipe her "opponent's" feet. She pulled up and jumped, imagining that they were doing the same move back to her. Continuing to imagine each move, her arm twisted and turned to hit their sword back every time, getting faster and faster and faster and faster and…..

Knock, knock. Talia pulled herself up, mentally clearing herself from the perilous fight, at the sound of knuckles softly pounding on the door. "Come in," She called, slowly trotting over to the door. Just outside the door, Batman stood. His cowl was casually flung back to uncover his real face, and as he began to pull on his gloves and belt, it became clear he was about to get out of the vigilante gear. He sighed, neglecting to look at her as the pulling became more of just fidgeting and less of actually pulling them off.

"I… have to go." He began, his eyes still looking off into the distance. "It's just… a… small errand. I won't be long. Maybe an hour or two, but….. I can't keep watching the baby while I'm gone so I figured I should let you know." He immediately turned and began walking away as soon as he had conveyed the necessary information. Talia's eyebrow rose, noticing the odd behavior, but quickly shrugged it off. Her husband always acted secretive, so she doubted there was anything to worry about.

"Okay, Beloved. Farewell!" She quickly leaned in to kiss him on the cheek a moment before he left. Batman turned back towards her, his classic vacant expression turning into a smile for a moment. It only took less than a moment to go back to normal, though, as he quickly continued walking and went into a walk-in closet to get ready for his "errand". Once he was out of sight, Talia made her own way over to the baby's nursery in the opposite direction.

She swiftly picked the baby up, watching as the baby's eyes lit up in a giggle. The baby continued to smile and laugh even more as she kissed his small, round little nose. Talia rocked her child in her arms, ambling around the nursery. Soon, the high-pitched laughter had faded into the peaceful squeaks of a sleeping infant. The baby was slowly set back down into his crib. Talia patted his little head as gently as she could, before setting up the baby monitor and going to a nearby room to train a bit more.

Meanwhile, Bruce had just arrived at what he had told Talia was just an errand. He went into the front door, and was greeted by a friendly-looking person, sitting on a lounge chair just a few feet in. They smiled at him, and motioned for him to sit down at one of the many desks spaced around the room.

"Welcome. You're a bit early, so we'll just be getting started in a few minutes." They explained. He simply nodded in return. Luckily for him, they seemed to be unaware of his fame back in Gotham. Talia had still been doing some work under Ra's, and so they hadn't been in Gotham for quite a while due to where her father wanted her. Bruce had been enjoying the lack of fame and the dreaded paparazzi through their whole trip, and this was no exception.

Silence followed for a few moments. They both looked down their laps, unsure what to do or say. Awkwardness plagued them both, but eventually, the person in front of Bruce decided to start talking again to get rid of it.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Riley, what's your name?" They asked, reaching a hand out to shake hands. Bruce put his hand out as well, and they shook for a few seconds before he answered the question.

"My name is B-" He quickly got interrupted by a flood of people coming in. The clock had finally ticked that it was 10:00, meaning it was the exact time to start. Everyone sat down quietly. Riley jumped up from their chair, rushing up to the front.

"Welcome to this poetry class, everyone. I assume all of you are here to improve your knowledge of poetry to a level beyond what you were taught in school, or possibly even to build up to a career as a poet. My name is Riley, and I'm your instructor." They explained, and a wave of nodding ran through their audience. Bruce nodded, but stared for a moment in awe of the fact that he hardly remembered even just what he had been taught in school about poetry. He looked down at the desk in front of him, the idea finally occurring to him that maybe focusing all his later teenage years on training to become Batman instead of paying attention to High School was a mistake.

But there was nothing he could do about it now. Poetry hadn't ever been necessary until this situation. But here he was, lying to Talia that he was just "going out on an errand", because there was absolutely no way he could write her a love poem without extra help. It was an embarrassment, really, but poetry just wasn't one of his strong points. It required so much emotion, so much expression of it, and expressing his emotions just wasn't something Bruce naturally did.

"Of course, this is more of a beginner class, so even though some of you may become poets some day, we'll be starting with the basics for today's class." Riley continued the class introduction. Bruce sighed in relief. Perhaps he would actually be able to follow what the instructor was talking about, and be able to give Talia a half-decent poem when it was over. "First of all, most good poems have a lot of figurative languages. These are things that stretch the literal meanings of the words you use, and create an image or effect using them. Some examples are how saying 'Your eyes looked like stars' is a simile, a type of figurative language. There's also metaphors, which are essentially the same thing, but without using the word 'like'."

Bruce thought about this for a moment, and got out a piece of paper to attempt to start his poem with some figurative language. "What's Talia like?" He mumbled, remembering everything about her that he loved so much. She was such a good fighter, and yet kind of graceful, which he was sure he could relate to something, so he took note of that. Her eyes were kind of jewel-like, shiny and beautiful, and her dark brown hair was like chocolate, so he wrote that down, as well.

But most of all, what he loved about her was how much she tried for love. Even though everyone would say that her fighting abilities are her greatest power, her secret weapon, Bruce knew none of those meant anything. Not without the love she used those abilities for, at least. He wasn't quite sure how to say this poetically, though, so he decided to get back to it later.

Eventually, the class ended, and Bruce came back home. Then, next week, he went back to the class and continued to work on his poem. Every week this continued, until their anniversary came around. By then, his poem was nowhere near perfect, but he had tried. There was no way he could back out now, after spending so much time working on it.

Bruce stuffed the poem inside his pocket, and went to their room to get Talia. She sat on a stool, brushing her hair nonchalantly. She had already gotten changed into a beautiful dress, going down to her ankles with embroideries. Bruce stared for a moment, thunderstruck. An embarrassingly goofy smile was on his face, but he quickly shook it off and returned to his default, impassive expression.

"Are you ready, Talia?" Bruce asked, reaching his hand out to help her up. Talia got up herself, but took his hand anyway, nodding. Both bringing along a present, the couple held hands as they made their way to the car. They were planning on going to a fancy restaurant for their anniversary, and exchanging gifts after dinner.

"I can't believe it's been a year since we finally got together, Beloved." Talia said once they were in the car, smiling, "It's been so happy. We were so sad, and we kept having to reject each other, but then this happened, and now… I don't think anything will ever get in between us again." She clutched her necklace, thinking back to the time, almost a year ago, that he had given it to her. For once, she could think about that kind of time with pure joy and hope, instead of longing.

"Yes… I don't usually consider myself cheerful, but you're right. I honestly don't think we could be happier." Bruce looked down at his lap, lost in thought. "That baby is going to have everything. Our love, a family, a home, and of course, happiness. We've really done it." He mumbled.

Talia nodded, right as they pulled up to the restaurant. She scooched out of the car, pulling Bruce along with her. They went inside together, got seated, and ordered their food. As they waited, they decided it might be fun to give each other hints about the presents.

"I'm going to give you two gifts, technically." Bruce explained, feeling his pocket for the poem, plus the earrings he was going to give her along with it. "One's just…. A fairly basic anniversary gift. But the other thing, well, it's a bit more from the heart… I suppose. I don't know, I tried to make it special." He sighed.

Talia smiled, "That sounds wonderful, Beloved. I can't wait to see it." Bruce gulped at the thought that he may have gotten his hopes up for his half-baked writing, but she didn't seem to notice his nerves. "I just got you something basic, too, but it's the sort of thing that's customized to be quite special."

"That sounds wonderful, too." He replied, reaching across to put his hand on top of hers romantically. She wrapped her hand around his in reciprocation. They both leaned in to kiss, smiling.

"Here is your food," They both got knocked out of their romantic moment by the sound of their waiter's voice. They both pulled out of the kiss, and leaned back on to their own chairs. "Oh, was I interrupting something?" The waiter asked with a chuckle, before setting down both their dishes in front of the one who ordered it.

The waiter left, and both Talia and Bruce ate dinner. They talked and smiled as they ate, both attempting to get the other one to slip up and tell them what their present was, with little to no success. Soon, both Bruce and Talia were finished eating, and they quickly got out their presents.

Talia picked up a bag that Bruce had noticed she'd been carrying along throughout the trip, and reached inside. Out she pulled a little box, wrapped in bright, colorful, wrapping. She pushed it in front of Bruce, grinning.

"Go ahead, open it." She insisted. Bruce slowly began to peel the wrapping off, and opened the box that was inside the wrapping. Inside was a beautiful pendant, covered in small gems of all kinds of shapes and colors. The jewels sparkled, almost like magic, and a smile grew on Bruce's face.

"It's… beautiful." He commented, flipping it over in his hands cautiously. He stared, mesmerized at all the jewels. His fingers clutched it tightly. Talia's grin only grew. He was even more happy with it than she thought he'd be, and he hadn't even opened it yet.

"Open the pendant, it's even specialer inside." She nudged, slightly impatient. Listening to her words, Bruce gently flipped the pendant open. Inside, there was a picture of their sweet little baby. Talia reached over, touching a little bump on the back. He flipped it over, realizing it was a knob. Talia turned it, and the image changed to a picture of herself. "There's quite a few different pictures in it, and the knob changes it. I tried to get all of your closest loved ones, plus a picture of yourself in case you're ever in the mood to be vain." She laughed.

Bruce pulled it closer to himself to see it better, and began switching the knob between them all. "I… I love it." He leaned over to her, quickly pecking her on the cheek. "It's perfect." Her smile grew even more than it already had as he opened it. Bruce adjusted the knob to be on Talia again, and put it on.

"I'm really glad." Talia reached over and squeezed Bruce's hand. "Now, would you like to get out what you're giving me?" She beamed with excitement, almost as much as she had beamed when he opened his own. Bruce pulled the earrings out of his pocket, and nudged them in front of his wife.

"I suppose I thought you might like those, but I put a lot more effort into my other gift." Bruce spoke cautiously, too focused to let himself smile anymore. Talia took the earrings, which were actually quite beautiful and expensive, and exchanged the earrings she was wearing currently with them. As she does that, he pulls his poem out of his pocket. "I wrote you something. I know you were probably concerned about how I kept going out at the same time each week without telling you where I was going, but that was just because I had to take a writing class if I wanted to make this even slightly decent."

Talia frowned, "You keep a lot of secrets, but it's nice to know that at least one of them was out of love, and not fear or mistrust. Either way, thank you for the earrings. They are more than beautiful." She let go of the frown quickly after getting it, and gestured for Bruce to go on. "Now, I'm more than excited to hear what you've made. Go ahead."

"When you are here, I can only think about you, But even when you are far, I simply do it with longing, too;

I love you all the time, Day… or night, In the ocean, ground, or even sky, And this why:

Your eyes look like jades, And your smile like beauty in a solid form; You hair looks like silky chocolate, Your entire body is something I adore;

You are stronger than you seem, But so very graceful, as well; You fight stronger than a demon, With an angel's good intent, and morale;

Yes, you move like a swan, But much, much, more than that:

You love deeper than anyone could ever know, Just something that you have taught yourself, Your intentions are more than just moral, But an emotion, in itself;

So with that much personality, It is my honor to be able to love you back."

Bruce spoke the poem as clearly as he could, trying not to stutter or chicken out. It felt odd, showing this much emotion, but in a good way. Once he was finished, he looked up from his poem, smiling. Talia was rubbing her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had formed. Bruce leaned over to kiss the unoccupied hand, desperately attempting to make the moment even more romantic.

Before he had leaned back on to his own chair, Talia quickly pulled him into a kiss, "I love it, Beloved. Almost as much as I love you." She took the paper from Bruce's hand, folding it up and putting it in her pocket. "If you don't mind, I want to be able to remember this moment. Forever."

"Of course," Bruce said, trying to pretend he wasn't surprised that she had liked his poem so much. Perhaps she was simply humoring him to spare his feelings, but if she was, she was doing an incredibly good job at it.

They quickly paid for the meal. Bruce and Talia both beamed as they rode off into the night, hand in hand.

__________________________________________________

A/N: Okay, now that you're done, some disclaimers:

I am not necessarily saying Bruce's poem was actually bad. He views it as bad, and it's certainly not perfect, but... I'm not necessarily saying it's bad myself, if that makes sense, (although I definitely did purposely not spend too much time on it when I was writing this).

Also, I'm not sure where this fanfic takes place, lol. It's just not in Gotham, but the rest if up for interpretation.

Oh, and I'm aware this entire fanfic is quite boring. The plot isn't very interesting, I'm afraid, but... oh well.

22 notes · View notes

residentclown · 3 years

Text

TMNT x Reader - ‘Coming Out’ Scenarios <3 pt. 1

/ To all us folk coming out as male/female and to those with the insecurity of it, and need a little fic to boost your confidence. You’re beautiful, handsome, lovely, you’re EVERYTHING. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. This post will be part 1 to the the 'female to male' scenario. I'll come out with a 'male to female' scnerio post part 1 & 2 soon! /

Intro: :

You were nervous to visit the lair today. Nervous, because today was the day you'd be confessing to your boyfriend that you were transitioning. You hadn't really been obvious about it -- quite the opposite in fact, but it began to bother you how the wrong terms would be thrown your way. Not that they knew...they didn't, and today that was going to change.

You being nervous didn't just stem from the reaction your mutant lover could give you; but you were nervous of the reactions from his ENTIRE family. So as you made your way through the sewers wearing a brace around your chest (sorry if I'm using this wrong, I'm still new to whats worn and whats not when transitioning qvq), you almost considered just making a beeline back to your apartment.

Unfortunately, the promise you'd made to come over kept you from doing that. Soon, you found yourself standing before the brothers, all of which sat about in the living room in preperation for the upcoming movie-thon you all were to have.

Leo

The soft patter of footsteps echoing from the entrance to the lair brought his attention to it, and it was instantanious for him to stand from his seat to go and greet you.

However, the nervous look on your face told him something was wrong -- and....you looked different. It was odd, cause nothing /seemed/ different; You were wearing the same clothing you normally did, hair was the same, face...regardless, he strolled up to you and brought you into a gentle hug.

" Something the matter? " he asks softly, face buried into your hair. He feels you nod and respond quietly. " Leo can -- can we go to your room? This is important.... "

Pulling away from the embrace, a feel of concern washes over him, but he swallows it down and guides you into the safety of his confines. Letting his brothers know you two would be a minute.

Once the door was shut, he turns back to see you sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with your fingers. (A nervous habit he found adorable) " What is it you wanted to tell me? Is everything alright, y/n? " he asks. Worry lacing the tone of his voice as he kneels before you, one large hand coming to rest upon your thigh, the other on your knee.

" Y-Yeah! Everything is fine its just -- .... " you were struggling to find the words. (e/c) eyes darting everywhere but the icy stare pointed at you. Then...you had an idea. Looking back to your boyfriend, you rest your hands firmly on his shoulders, tone serious as you stare him dead in the eyes.

" Leo, take off my shirt. " Blink. " What? " " Take of my shirt! Just - trust me. Please. " Swallowing the sudden lump forming in his throat, he regards you with a questioning look before eventually nodding and complying with your request. Raising your arms, you allow him to hook his fingers into the hem of your shirt and gently tug it up and over your head.

There, on your chest, was this odd contraption fit snug around your chest. He eyes it suspiciously, before looking to you for an answer. You, however, smiled bashfully and motioned to it.

" T-This is a um...a brace. Its to make it feel like I have no boobs, and a man's chest. I....Leo, I'm a man. I'm not a girl. I'm currently going through the process of transitioning -- I just... " You paused, the silence and sudden tension within the room causing emotion to well up in your throat. Tears pricking the corners of your eyes, you look at the blue-clad leader - who was currently staring you down with a face that bared no emotion to read.

' He doesn't like this. ' you thought. The damn threatening to break behind your eyes had all but shattered - causing small streams to spill down your cheeks. You choke back a sob, voice coming out broken. Completely unaware of the growing excitement coming from the turtle in front of you. " I-I'm sorry - I'm so sorry...if you don't want..../us/ anymore, I c-completely un- "

You were cut short when arms wrap around your waist and hoist you into the air. A yelp leaving you before you're crushed against Leo's plastoron. The grin plastered onto his face had you gaping -- you'd never seen him smile so big! " y/n, of course I still want us! This is great! " settling you onto your feet, he continues to hold you, his excited expression turning soft as he rests a hand on the side of your face. Which, instincitvely, you nuzzle into.

" I'm /proud/ of you, y/n. I don't care if you're a guy, girl, different species -- you're YOU. And I can't see myself without you. Now come on, handsome. We've got a family to inform. " He says, leaning in for a quick peck before guiding you hand in hand from his room.

Needless to say, the endless support you got not only from him, but from the others? You were lucky to have had them all.

/ / Leo may seem OOC in this compared to a LOT of fics out there - but tbh, he isn't the cold, collected leader he's often portrayed as. I can see him being giddy and excited knowing his SO took such a hard and big step in life - hell, he'd be very proud and it will show. While he may struggle a bit with emotions, I can see him expressing them fluently and with enthusiasm when he figures it out. / /

Raph

It didn't take long for Raph's eyes to fall upon you as you made your way into the living room. The unsure look on your face had him up on his feet, eyes regarding you with a look that was just as unsure. The brute wasn't always so good with emotions -- especially if it was coming from his partner.

" Hey girly, you uh..you doin' alright there? " he tries. Voice cautious. But when you visibly cringed, insecurities instalty began to flood his mind. Why did you cringe? You never cringed when he called you that -- were you mad at him? Here to break up with him? His mind began to reel and when you noticed the blank, wide-eyed stare, you knew he was beginning to jump to conclusions.

His brothers watched, worried but with a growing curiosity as you made your way over and gently touched his arm -- ushering him to sit back in the recliner. He did, eyes on you and mouth unmoving as you stood back a bit, biting your bottom lip before your gaze went to the others in the room.

" So um...I've got something to say. To all of you. I figured I'd let you all know at once cause..well, you're my family. You all deserve to know. " you start. Heart pounding in your chest. It was hard to look up at all the eyes pinned on you, so you opted for finding interest in the floor beneath your feet.

With a small chorus of 'Of course', 'go ahead' and 'we're listening' from the brothers, you finally looked up. (e/c) gaze moving from each turtle until they landed on the emerald green of your boyfriends. You stared long and hard into them, heart in your ears now as you took a deep breath -- exhaled, and finally found the courage to speak two words.

" I'm male. "

There was a deafening silence, the boys all staring at you with utter confusion written on their faces. Mikey was the first to speak up after a minute.

" Whaddya mean angelcakes? Were you not a girl this whole time? " then he gasps. " Then how did you hide it from Ra-- " there was a small 'whap' as the red-clad turtle smacked him upside the head. " No ya' idiot! It means she - ....it means y/n was a female.... " looking back at you, he finally stands up. Hand coming to your chest, he pats it a couple of times. It was then that everyone noticed how flat it was now. " But is on his way to becoming a man. " he finishes.

You look up at him, only to find him smirking down at you. It didn't take long for a smile to grow on your face. He accepted you.

" So wait -- does that mean you're gay now, Raph? " Mikey butts in again. This time, Leo pulls him back by the shell with a glare on his face, shaking his head at the younger turtle who then raises his hands in defense. " It was a genuine question! "

Now it was Donnie's turn to speak up. " A very invasive one, Mikey! I don't think they've got that figured out yet. "

Raph seemed to ponder over that question, though. Brow-ridges furrowed in concentration, before finally taking your hand in his.

" Yeah, Mikey, I guess it means I'm gay. But, only for y/n ~ "

/ Well, this concludes part 1 of the 'coming out, female to male' scanario! I do hope you guys like it so far - and don't be afraif to give me feedback! I'm definitely open to any constructive critisism for my future writings. I'll see you in the next part lovelies! ~ Arrow /

129 notes · View notes

fannishcodex · 3 years

Photo

Interesting meta from cruelfeline and others inspired my idea for a role swap AU where the main swap is between Hordak and Adora! There are other character swaps in the AU too, or swap variations.

Hordak is the latest Prim-Al, a living weapon that a First Ones faction clones over and over again each time one perishes in battle. FO created Prim-Al in response to their magitech AI Light Hope going rogue and constructing her own army of androids she calls the She-Ra.

More under the cut, including Queen Adora, leader of the Etherian Alliance and stranded android still loyal to her creator, and her discovery of a baby Hordak (Content Warnings: ableism; child abuse; Catra is a villain and completes her transformation into a Shadow Weaver-like figure, and the implications of that):

But first, a little more summed up detail on Prim-Al’s deal, because there’s more to it:

-Hordak’s genetic template is a mysterious Subject A. The FO took preserved samples of Subject A to continually make clones of him for Prim-Al.

-FO also made a digital copy of Subject A’s mind, a magitech AI named Prime. As a digital clone of an organic mind, much of him acts like an organic mind. Though FO has added some heavy programming and other alterations, they’ve tried to leave much of the organic-based behavior intact for multiple reasons--as an ongoing experiment in digital clones of minds, as an attempt to deter another rogue AI by trying to make this AI more aligned with organics (in contrast, RS!Light Hope was generally not based on an individual’s organic mind, she is not a digital clone like RS!Prime).

(Magitech is what it sounds like--a typically powerful fusion of magic and technology.)

-AI Prime is contained in the RS!Sword of Protection, and is actually the key to its power.

-The clones are actually vessels that channel magitech AI Prime through the sword. When a clone holds the sword, they sync with AI Prime inside, and together they essentially fuse and transform into Prim-Al.

-Prim-Al occurs in two stages. The first stage has some boost in power, some physical changes in body and clothes. The last stage has a greater boost in power and more physical changes--aged up (to a certain point), more muscular, longer hair, clothes, etc.

-AI Prime will only grant power to the clones/can only sync with the clones because they share a blood connection to the organic mind he was based on. This reaction is largely rooted in AI Prime’s magitech nature.

-Despite the death of Subject A, FO was able to preserve his mind and DNA to continue weaponizing him via biological and digital cloning. (The reasons for the FO’s focus on Subject A are also classified, though one can infer that Subject A possessed a power FO wanted to preserve and control....)

-AI Prime/the Sword of Protection is passed down through multiple iterations of Prim-Al.

-One of AI Prime’s functions is to also serve as a living archive of information, and so AI Prime remembers every Prim-Al. He is supposed to have this information available for new clone vessels to access.

-The clones do get names, but as they mature FO generally uses them less and refers to them as Prim-Al more. FO generally mistreat Prim-Al/clone vessels/AI Prime, seeing them as just weapons to keep under control.

FO doesn’t create a clone army because they’re honestly paranoid about creating another powerful enemy; they think that just one Prim-Al under selective limitations will grant them better control and avoid another Light Hope debacle. There are other classified reasons for this too. Also a FO faction created Prim-Al; the entirety of FO are embroiled in a civil war among each other as well as the war with Light Hope and other enemies.

The FO also put limitations on AI Prime for similar reasons, and all the more so because he’s an AI--they don’t want AI Prime to be another rogue AI like Light Hope.

Feel like sharing some design/tone notes:

Besides playing around with fusing traits from both Hordak and Horde Prime, I was also influenced by Link and the Master Sword in Breath of the Wild, as well as the Drifter in Hyper Light Drifter.

(Above: Base Form!RS!Adora is partly a drawover of a show image.)

The She-Ra units are magitech androids with a base form and a more powerful form they can transform into. This transformation is rooted in their magitech nature.

Gonna try to keep these notes on the art as more of a summary for now, and may reveal more specific details about the role swap AU later in separate text posts or even just keep it to later fic--also, still brainstorming, so material in the sketches and the text may change later; and also just felt like this art needed more context/clarification/background info:

(Baby!RS!Hordak is supposed to resemble canon!Imp, thanks to fic from/talking with @revasnaslan. More info on that is below. Also yes, RS!Adora wrapped baby!RS!Hordak in her cape. :3)

FO preferred raising/training/indoctrinating the Prim-Al clone vessels from infancy, thinking this would give them greater control. They also thought it would make Prim-Al feel even more connected to organics and avoid sympathizing with any rogue AI like Light Hope.

RS!Adora finds the alien baby stranded on Etheria due to a wayward portal (like her situation), and she names him “Hordak” based on the little data she gets from the wrecked escape pod she finds him in. The data had only been text that read “Predecessor: Kadroh,” and she just reversed that name for the boy. RS!Adora names him as part of his paperwork, intending to have him sent to the infirmary with the other orphans, she can’t spend anymore time on him.

RS!Adora fought the Prim-Al before Hordak, but never knew his name was Kadroh. She doesn’t immediately see a resemblance between Hordak and Prim-Al because Hordak is a baby and she’s never really thought about Prim-Al being an organic infant before. Another significant thing is that like in @revasnaslan ‘s Where One Fell-verse fic, infants/children of Hordak’s species start completely blue, and then their faces turn white as they mature; also as @revasnaslan pointed out to me, there’s Imp, baby/child-like clone of Hordak without a white face. So RS!Adora slowly starts seeing the resemblance between Hordak and Prim-Al as Hordak’s growing up and his face starts turning white, and she honestly starts internally freaking out because by this point, between having to provide him medical assistance for his defect and having to spend more time with him than intended and watching him grow up more closely than she planned, RS!Adora is attached enough that the implications of Hordak somehow being the latest Prim-Al is distressing for her and provides a serious conflict with her loyalty to RS!Light Hope...

(Also just feel like saying that while I’m brainstorming that RS!Adora is kind of an android that’s been around for a while/like 1000+ years, I’m more in the camp that thinks that canon Hordak is actually quite young/not centuries old, even though he might have the potential for that/he can get that old later.)

There are more details on how baby RS!Hordak ends up on Etheria and the unique situation behind his birth, but that’s for another text post or fic.

RS!Adora passes herself off as an organic (even a native) while on Etheria. One metal arm is left exposed due to a minor glitch there that messes up the regen protocol for her synthetic skin; she pretends it’s just armor mainly for aesthetic/ceremonial purposes. But this is equivalent to a superficial scar, and it does not hinder or cause RS!Adora any great pain. Before Etheria she was considered one of RS!Light Hope’s perfect androids, and a random portal just plucked her from routine combat duty. (Light Hope didn’t really notice; any missing She-Ra units were assumed to be casualties of battle, and she had plenty more She-Ra units to replace any losses.)

RS!Catra is a commander in RS!Adora’s Etherian Alliance. RS!Adora and RS!Catra have grown estranged while nominally on the same side. (I’ve been brainstorming RS!Adora/RS!Scorpia down the line after quite a few things go down.)

RS!Catra learned magic in Mystacor and RS!Light Spinner was her most influential mentor. RS!Catra’s specialty was transforming into a large predatory feline and other spells to strengthen her body. (I just keep getting more intrigued by original ‘80s Catra.)

When RS!Light Spinner roped RS!Catra into helping her with the Spell of Obtainment, things turned disastrous. The spell backfire warped RS!Catra, scarring her with a shadowy substance and granting her new shadow-like powers that made her vastly stronger, but the abrupt and traumatic change wrought by magic led to an initial period of insatiability and loss of control that resulted in RS!Catra transforming into an even larger, shadow-constructed feline that killed/devoured Light Spinner and other sorcerers investigating the commotion. RS!Catra flees Mystacor after this and eventually gains control over her new power, but grows more corrupt with it too, and is also left with a new hunger. Years later RS!Catra throws her lot in with the Alliance of monarchs and RS!Adora to solidify/take control of Etheria. (At the moment there’s tentatively another complicating factor with the Spell of Obtainment in this AU, but gonna leave that for another post or fic while I spend more time privately brainstorming it first.)

(Also RS!Catra’s design is very much based on her S3 finale corrupted form because I thought that was neat and that it could work in this AU. I also liked the idea of just using shadow magic to wrap around her and transform her into a large predatory shadow feline as a callback of her original ‘80s incarnation.)

Though RS!Adora is at the head of the Etherian Alliance with RS!Catra as her commander and essentially right hand, most of its high command is made of princesses and other monarchs/nobles who wished to tighten their control over Etheria. However, the Scorpion kingdom, Bright Moon, and Dryl resisted this agenda, and the Alliance considered them enemies and part of the rebels.

RS!Catra actually does just drop RS!Hordak off at the infirmary with the other orphans, complying with RS!Adora’s orders. Despite sensing some strong magic from RS!Hordak, RS!Catra’s content to leave him with the other orphans and just keep an eye on him for now.

(The magic RS!Catra’s sensing from RS!Hordak is something that can only be really triggered once he has the Sword of Protection.)

But when Hordak’s around four years old, his body starts breaking down/his defect becomes apparent. Many in the Alliance give up on the boy’s use as a soldier-in-training (or even use as a servant) and consider casting him out, despite RS!Adora’s insistence that they have enough resources to spare on providing the boy with ongoing medical assistance. (RS!Adora is motivated by a variety of things, including honoring Light Hope’s precept that all creatures have a place under her reign (until she orders otherwise); and at this point RS!Adora still feels some connection to her fellow portal traveler stranded on Etheria and feels compelled to try to help in this situation.) It’s then that RS!Catra steps in and takes in RS!Hordak as her ward. She still thinks he has use (she can still sense great magic from him) and sees this as an opportunity to position herself as the boy’s “savior” and really secure his loyalty.

Though the relationship between RS!Adora and RS!Catra is gradually deteriorating, the nature of RS!Catra’s true motives for taking in RS!Hordak is essentially lost on RS!Adora. While largely everyone in the Alliance had spurned the idea of keeping RS!Hordak around any longer now that he was defective--something RS!Adora found rather discouraging--RS!Catra’s the only one other than RS!Adora to express some interest in the boy. In the face of that much rejection, RS!Adora thinks that if RS!Catra wants to take RS!Hordak as her ward, she should have him.

RS!Adora constructs RS!Hordak’s first set of assistive armor. This eventually includes surgery and giving him ports for a closer/better connection to the armor. RS!Adora continues to treat RS!Hordak and maintain his armor, and helps educate him on how it works when he expresses interest in it and science/technology in general.

RS!Catra is not a good adoptive mother to RS!Hordak. She trains him brutally, pushes him as far as his defect will allow, telling him he needs to work harder to make up for his defect and keep up with everyone else. Her harsh words encourage his self-loathing, and she does aim to break him down to keep him compliant. She’s basically partly swapped with Shadow Weaver in this AU (partly since RS!Light Spinner isn’t really swapped, she’s partially in a “what if she was really on the wrong end of the Spell of Obtainment and was killed by its backfire like those Mystacor sorcerers were,” and also “what if Catra was her student at Mystacor instead of Micah.”)

For a long time RS!Hordak believes he deserves RS!Catra’s harsh treatment, and is afraid that she’ll cast him out if he’s not good enough. He’s aware that there’s no one else in the Alliance that would really take him in. He worries that RS!Adora would just withdraw her mercy and assistance if she realized how weak he really was, so he often tries to hide as much of that as he can from her, including signs of RS!Catra’s abusive treatment. RS!Catra sometimes softens with RS!Hordak--for example, she taught him how to drive a skiff and those were calm lessons, with RS!Catra less demanding and less harsh than when she trains him in combat--but she does not provide him with consistent care and continues to emotionally/verbally/mentally/physically abuse him.

(Above: Definitely referenced a screenshot from the show. Not pictured: Probably RS!Prime losing his shit immediately after this and cursing RS!Catra out and maybe breaking out a recording of one of RS!Adora’s tongue-lashings to unsettle her.)

RS!Catra is furious when RS!Hordak finally runs away in his teens. Her relationship with him has become somewhat less business and more dangerously personal; she has developed a twisted affection for him as her adopted son, and that makes her reactions even more volatile and harsh when he runs away. RS!Catra does not react well to RS!Hordak’s attempts to escape her.

(When RS!Hordak leaves the Etherian Alliance, he’s a little younger than canon!Adora when she leaves the Etherian Horde due to some reasons that’ll be saved for another text post or fic.)

RS!Hordak isn’t used to getting encouragement from an authority figure/older adult, it always startles him whenever it happens.

(Playing around with role swap AU--also felt like having RS!AI Prime be softer than both canon!Light Hope and canon!Horde Prime, and that’s included him being more supportive/encouraging and even more snarky/playful as another sketch comic indicated above [though part of his humor is just like a result of--he’s pretty old, some inhibitions have just dropped over time and he’s seen quite a few things just repeat over and over, and part of his response to that is to sometimes act more flippant].)

While previous Prim-Al have had some slight variations in appearance depending on the individual clone vessel’s clothing/scars/etc., Hordak’s Prim-Al transformation is the most drastically different. All of his older clone-brothers have had white hair and yellow eyes, and so their Prim-Al transformations have had long white hair and one yellow eye, while the rest turned green and gained visible pupils. Hordak has blue hair and red eyes, and so his Prim-Al transformation reflects that more--the red eye stays, and Prim-Al now has blue hair with a few streaks of white. He has clothes with a primary color scheme of black-and-red instead of black-and-white. Hordak’s Prim-Al is slightly shorter than previous Prim-Al. Hordak’s Prim-Al has more armor, since they shield his defect--which Prim-Al now has since Hordak has it. Due to this, Hordak’s Prim-Al, while gaining a significant boost in power/etc., is typically not as strong as his brothers’ Prim-Al transformations. (However, Hordak’s determination and tolerance for pain is regularly equal to his older brothers’ own determination and tolerance for pain.)

Though the defect remains, the use of AI Prime to trigger the Prim-Al transformation again provides greater power. It also does have some effect on appearance and structure. A closer examination of Prim-Al should show this: Prim-Al looks more like someone recently scarred/mutilated/afflicted with a defect, rather than someone who’s grown up with it. And so, though defective, Prim-Al’s arms look less withered and retain more muscle, and generally look better than Hordak’s usual arms. (And again, they still have a magitech boost going on.)

While FO did program AI Prime to have some regard for the clone vessels, he started caring more than they had planned. AI Prime grew to genuinely care for every clone vessel for Prim-Al, and saw them more as brothers. This now includes Hordak. And though he values his brothers and means well, AI Prime’s cynicism and (remnant) programming can sometimes get in the way of his attempts to help. His own deep-seated trauma can be a factor too.

With every new clone, AI Prime initially tries to distance himself to avoid further pain, because he grieves the loss of every clone--but he ultimately always admits to seeing them as brothers. (With his long life and the FO and Light Hope and other external factors trapping him in this cycle, AI Prime somewhat copes by comparing the whole thing to the passing of seasons. He’ll be passed down to a new clone-brother, he’ll try to resist caring about the clone-brother, he’ll grow to care about the clone-brother anyway, clone-brother dies, he’s alone until the next clone-brother comes, and then the whole thing starts again.)

Though AI Prime is a digital clone of Subject A’s mind, he doesn’t have complete access to his mental template’s memories due to FO intervention. The FO also did not tell AI Prime everything.

Yep the LUVD crystal is there, RS!Entrapta should be another sketch post or fic. She’s gone from like the oldest princess to the youngest princess in this AU, and is around the same age as RS!Hordak.

Thanks for checking this out, hope you enjoyed this AU! Hope to have more about this up later.

Forgot to add: Yep RS!Kadroh is that Kadroh, he’s RS!Wrong Hordak in this AU.

#spop #hordak #adora #horde prime #she ra and the princesses of power #my fanart #role swap au #my fanfic

68 notes · View notes

phis-corner · 4 years

Text

demon’s daughter

I decided to re-open the taglist for this fic because I am sometimes a pushover, so now you can either ask or comment to be on the fic’s taglist or the permanent taglist!

Additionally, I have no consistent update schedule. My first draft is written by hand- I always like to stay two chapters ahead, so I posted this chapter when I finished copying chapter 5 into a Google Doc and proofreading.

Also, fun fact: I hate chocolate. My senses just do not like it at all. I also have a very sensitive tongue and can taste the barest hint of spiciness in foods, which also means I have zero spice tolerance whatsoever. As a Chinese-American with family in Sichuan, this means I get force-fed a lot of extremely spicy foods anyway.

Masterlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 [Chapter 3] Chapter 4

“Why are you letting them stay? He tried to kill Dick!” Timothy points at Damian, who glowers at him from across the cave as Alfred stitches Richard’s cuts.

Marinette sighs. “Akhi was not trying to murder Richard. If you paid more attention, you would notice that all of Richard’s wounds are carefully placed in non-lethal areas meant to slow him down instead of severely injuring him.”

Batman does not say a word. He hasn’t spoken since Richard called him to verify their claims.

“They were raised as assassins, Timmy. It’s normal that they’d feel threatened a lot, and act accordingly. They’re family now. Give them a chance.” Richard replies, and Marinette blinks. She did not expect to have Richard defend them so easily.

“Pardon me,” She pipes up. “But ‘they’ are currently present.”

“Right. Sorry.” Richard has the sense to look guilty. Timothy just glares.

Damian squeezes her hand three times, their signal for I would like to leave. Marinette sighs as she exits the Batcave. Being accepted into the family is… a work in progress.

.o0o.

Slade is put into Blackgate not long after with the information Ubu gave after being interrogated by the Bats. Damian and Marinette were not allowed to go.

Too young, Richard had said. They had interpreted that as You cannot be trusted to keep him alive. He did make the right call though. Damian would have tried extremely hard had he gotten the chance.

Of course, the League did dispose of him not long after anyway, but it was the thought that counted.

Damian and Marinette spent their days in the Manor sparring, reading, or practicing their instruments. Richard, who seemed determined to bond with them, bought them both new sketchbooks, for Damian’s drawings and Marinette’s designs. She had discovered an affinity for clothing design while undercover on a mission, and had been designing ever since.

Cass (she insisted that they call her that instead of Cassandra,) was always happy to spar when asked, and although nobody ever defeated her, it was a welcomed challenge to fight someone who knew your every move, sometimes even before you did. Damian grudgingly admits she is a worthy sister, which makes Marinette smile and Cass beam.

Jason had his own home and only visited every once in a while, and Timothy was rarely seen. It didn’t help that Damian continued to make snarky comments whenever they did see him, but if Timothy was scarce, Father was practically nonexistent.

Since they came to the Manor, their father has said a total of two words to the both of them, and that was just their names when he exited his study as they passed by.

Marinette is determined to make her new family work, and so when she finds Timothy completely by accident, typing away on a laptop in one of the less-used rooms in the Manor, she takes a chance.

“You do know we are not trying to replace you, right?” She asks softly, sitting down in an armchair and deliberately not making eye contact with him.

Timothy snorts. “But is that not what you’re doing? Bruce chose to take in everyone else. I had to blackmail him into letting me be Robin. And then the biological kids show up, born and raised like fucking royalty, so who would care about Tim Drake? The little kid whose parents didn’t even want him and his neighbor only adopted him because he knew his most well-kept secret.”

“We have more in common than you think.” Marinette says quietly.

“Yeah, right.” Timothy laughs bitterly. “The Princess of the League-”

“I wasn’t.” Marinette interrupts.

“Huh? But-”

“I wasn’t the Princess.” Marinette keeps her voice calm with considerable effort. “As soon as I was born, Ra’s gave me over to Lady Shiva. He declared me unworthy because I was a girl, and I was raised as the lowest-ranked assassin. I may have been Shiva’s protege, but that just meant she went even harder on me. I did not know even my last name until after my first death when I was five. I did not properly meet my brother until last year. Ra’s decided that I could be acknowledged, but maintained his stance on feminine inferiority.”

She chuckles hollowly. “You fear being replaced by your father figure’s biological children, Timothy. But your fear is unwarranted. Bruce Wayne chose to adopt you, because he is a good man with copious amounts of generosity. However, it evidently does not extend to his biological children. Talia dumped us at Batman’s feet and left without another word, without looking back. And Father? We may have been a complete surprise, but he has said two words in total to us since that first night- our names. You need not worry, Timothy. You shall not be replaced.”

Marinette stands, her message conveyed, and pauses in the doorway of the room.

“Have a good afternoon, Timothy.”

The next day, Marinette and Damian watch on live television as their father is killed by Darkseid.

.o0o.

The funeral for Batman is somber. Everyone cries except for Marinette and Damian.

She thinks they should be crying, but Marinette simply didn’t know her father well enough to really mourn him. Damian squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back. The twins stand, faces carefully blank, shoulders straight and unmoving, like rocks in an ocean of tears.

Crime in Gotham runs rampant when they think Batman is gone, and so Richard becomes Batman out of necessity- and chooses her twin brother as his Robin.

Nobody else sees how it crushes Timothy, because Cass has left for Hong Kong, abandoning Batgirl and making her own identity as Black Bat. Jason is holed up in a safehouse somewhere, Richard and Damian are in their own little world as they prepare for their first patrol together, and Alfred needs time to mourn too.

So she finds herself knocking on the door to Timothy’s room, one hand holding a plate of sandwiches and a freshly brewed coffee because he hasn’t left his room since the funeral. Marinette quietly enters upon his muffled “Come in” and sets the plate down next to Timothy, whose eyes are red-rimmed and have even larger bags than normal, and yet he continues to work.

“I… noticed you have not come out to eat, so I brought some food and fresh coffee. Black.” She adds, after a moment of hesitation.

“Thanks.” Timothy mumbles, immediately going for the coffee. “Why are you doing this?”

Marinette shrugs. “Everyone else was caught up in their own situation and had issues to work through too. I am relatively unaffected by the circumstances and therefore my observation skills have not declined.” She says simply. “You should also eat. I will not stop you from drinking the coffee, but you cannot work on an empty stomach, either.”

He begrudgingly eats a sandwich, still typing away at his laptop all the while. Marinette notes the tension in his frame.

“Would you like to talk about it? I have read that venting is significantly better for one’s mental health than keeping it bottled up.” She offers.

Timothy suddenly slams the laptop shut, hard, but Marinette doesn’t flinch. The reaction was trained out of her a long time ago.

“It’s not- it’s- my entire life, I’ve been trying to prove myself. Robin was- Robin was special. I wasn’t the first Robin, but it was a reminder that I was worth something to someone, that I could do good and be useful. And then Bruce dies, Dick becomes Batman, and he just names Damian as his Robin like my opinion on the matter meant nothing, booting me out of the position, without any semblance of an explanation and-” He breaks off into sobs.

The sight of somebody crying makes Marinette more than a little awkward, because what is she doing? She doesn’t know how to comfort a crying person, but she does know that Timothy was touch-starved as a child. However, she isn’t the most touchy-feely person on the planet either, so she just settles for rubbing his back as he lets it all out.

Once he’s run out of tears, she silently hands him the tissue box she plucked from his desk.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are not worthless.” Marinette says sternly. “Nobody is worthless, and you are far from being anywhere near so. You are the cleverest and most intelligent of us all, a capable, quick-thinking strategist, and you have detective skills that rivaled Father’s. I believe Richard chose Damian as Robin because Robin is always supposed to be Batman’s sidekick. He is always taken under Batman’s wing because there are things he hasn’t learned, that Batman can teach him. Richard sees you as an equal, and therefore cannot keep you as his Robin because you have graduated the mantle. It is time you created a new identity and moved on. Do you have anything in mind?”

Timothy sniffs once. “Thank you. I really needed that. And as for the ideas,” He reaches over and pulls out a sketchbook, a smile spreading across his face. “I’ve got a few.”

.o0o.

They brainstorm ideas for almost three hours before Timothy falls asleep. Marinette easily carries his light frame to his bed and drapes a blanket over his shoulders before quietly exiting his room.

Thankfully, she managed to convince Timothy that the cowl was a terrible idea. Marinette returns to her own room for her sketchbook. Batman and Robin will have each other’s backs. But Red Hood works alone, leaving Red Robin with nobody to watch his back.

Timothy is Marinette’s brother too, and everyone else is headed into the field anyway. She, like Damian, also had the phrase ‘justice, not vengeance’ drilled into her head, and Richard had made sure to remind them daily to aim for non-lethal spots. Not that she planned on taking a life ever again anyway.

Marinette flips open her sketchbook to a bookmarked page and smiles. It seems that Starling would be making an appearance very soon.

.o0o.

It is almost time for Richard and Damian’s first patrol as Batman and Robin. Marinette heads downstairs to wish them well, but freezes at the sight of her twin in Timothy’s old suit.

“This is unacceptable!” She screeches, hurrying forward and looking pleadingly at Richard. “You cannot let akhi out into Gotham looking like a traffic light!”

Richard frowns, as does Damian. “But you never had a problem with Tim wearing it.”

“Tt. Timothy had little to no prior experience in combat before being trained as Robin. Damian has been trained to utilize the shadows in combat since birth. Wearing those bright colors will make him stand out and put him at a disadvantage.” Marinette tuts, already scribbling out a new design in her sketchbook.

“Then what do you suggest, ukhti?” Damian asks.

“I have a design in mind. The colors will stay, but the yellow and green will have to be significantly darker, and the red should be dulled as well. Sadly, you will have to wear that monstrosity tonight, but I can have the suit finished in time for patrol tomorrow, as will mine and Timothy’s new suits.” She replies, not glancing up from her book.

“What do you mean, Marinette?” Richard questions, and Marinette feels a tiny twinge of annoyance at how he handled telling Timothy about Robin.

“I mean that Timothy and I have crafted new identities as well. You did not expect him to just stop fighting crime, or for me to just sit at home while everyone else carried out Father’s mission, did you?”

Damian nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. “It will be nice to see you in the field too, ukhti.”

“What will your names be?” Richard prods curiously.

“I will not tell you just yet.” Marinette smirks. She shows her twin the finished design. “Does this look alright, akhi?”

“It looks wonderful, ukhti.” Damian replies. “Thank you.”

She sniffs. “Well, somebody had to fix the lack of fashion sense in this household eventually.”

.o0o.

Everyone else in the family may use capes, but Marinette decided that Richard’s Nightwing suit was by far the best because of its lack of one. Capes were long, heavy, a waste of fabric, and overall useless.

The Starling suit was primarily black, with a dark emerald mask covering the lower half of her face (because why carry a gas mask and rebreather when it can be built in?) with gloves and boots in the same color. A single silver star with curved sides was splayed on her chest, and a dark green utility belt rested on her waist. Her steel war fans had holsters strapped to her thighs.

All in all, the suit was built for the shadows. Marinette had learned to master slipping through the dark, unseen, and Gotham was the perfect place to utilize that. Starling would be nothing more than a ghost, a legend, if she had her way. After all, the less citizens knew, the less likely the information would hit the underworld, and that way, the vigilantes wouldn’t have all their cards out in the open.

Damian looks much better in his new suit as well, and Timothy is also grinning when he steps out of the male’s changing room. (A/N: the new 52 suit. I’m not letting him out of the Cave with that ugly cowl, or the traffic light costume with an extra R. Don’t even get me started on the Drake one.)

Richard, cowl still down, smiles as bright as the sun itself. “Good to see you, Robin. Tim, Marinette, can I ask your names?”

Timothy fastens his domino. “Red Robin.”

Marinette pulls her face mask up and curtsies with perfect posture. “Starling. I wish to work in the shadows, if that is alright.”

Richard puts on the cowl and becomes Batman. “You guys all look amazing.” He grins, and it is unsettling to see Batman smile. Oracle logs into the comms from the Clocktower.

“You all ready?”

They split the city in half. Red Robin and Starling take the North while Batman & Robin will cover the South.

Starling trails Red Robin from afar, leaping from building to building and only using her grappling hook when the distance is too great to close by foot. They stop four muggings and two attempted assaults, all without Starling being spotted. The criminals think they hit their head on the alley walls or each other instead of her fist from behind.

It’s almost three in the morning when Batman calls it quits and they return to the Cave, changing out of their suits and showering. They are somehow all unharmed, so Alfred sends them up to bed.

Damian and Marinette brush their teeth before climbing into bed and flipping off the lights.

“Tonight was actually quite enjoyable.” Marinette remarks. “It is a nice feeling, to know that you are helping people.”

Damian hums sleepily. “It is good to know that we are continuing Father’s legacy.”

Marinette smiles. “Yes, I suppose so.” She burrows deeper into her blankets. “Sleep well, akhi.”

“The same goes for you, ukhti.”

For once, Marinette doesn’t have a nightmare.

Previous ◈ Next

Taglist (re-opened and will stay open): @moonlightstar64 @dast218 @our-preciousss @novicevoice @pawsitivelymiraculous @trippingovermyfeet @miyla-lokidottir @consumeconstantly @mochegato @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @azuremayscarlet @iloveitwhen @bran-thecreeper-stark @no-username2544 @susiej1118 @kking13

Permanent taglist (always open): @wannajointhecrabcult @marinettepotterandplagg

Unspecified (you asked to be tagged and did not specify which one): @momothefemur @indecisive-mess-named-me

Note: some of them didn’t work. I am terrible with technology and have no clue how to fix this.

#maribat #mlb x dc #demon's daughter au #my writing

340 notes · View notes

rainbowchristy · 3 years

Text

Let the Human In (Chapter Twelve - Unique)

Summary: It’s just a regular workday for Phil. Doing rounds with his patients, helping out with the occasional emergency department case. The only difference? He has one new patient in the ED. One found unconscious on the street. One who starts throwing up from seemingly nothing. One, with a very dark backstory and no hope for the future.

Or, Dan is being sex trafficked and Phil’s a psych resident who just wants to help, even if everyone around him is telling him he’s too invested.

A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by the character Danny Jones from Chicago Med but you don’t need to know anything about the show to read this!

TW: References to abuse, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, references to eating disorders, references to schizophrenia & clinical descriptions of suicide attempts.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1 | Last Chapter

Phil finishes his lunch and empties his tray. He decides it’s best for him to update Dr Forest on his patients before returning to Will. He knocks on her door and hears a faint, “come in.”

Pushing open the door, he sees the scattered papers on her left and the pile of folders on her right. The top file’s open and she glances at it before typing on her computer some more. Phil waits patiently for her to finish what she’s working on.

“Phil,” she says happily once she finishes typing and looks at him. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Ah, good good. Chugging along. What can I help you with?”

“Just thought I’d do my daily check-in.”

She gestures for him to go on. He takes a seat in one of the armchairs across from her.

“Okay, so, Liz is doing really well. She ate all her breakfast, didn’t purge and didn’t feel guilty for not purging. She said she felt really good about it and acknowledged the improvement from when she came in.”

“That’s amazing progress. You must be very proud.”

“Of her, yeah. She’s made huge progress in such a short amount of time. She’s obviously still got a long way to go but if she keeps going, I reckon I’ll be recommending her discharge within a few weeks.”

Dr Forrest nods. “I’d be inclined to agree with that, after my own assessment, of course.”

“Of course,” Phil agrees before moving on. “Luke’s gotten used to his medication, though.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He didn’t want to trust me at all.”

“So what did you do?”

“I decided to change his medication since that one wasn’t working anymore and it was already at its highest dose. I gave him two milligrams of risperidone and he’ll have another two tonight with dinner.”

She nods. “How’d he go taking the medication?”

“He didn’t want to, like, at all. I’m not really sure how I convinced him,” Phil admits honestly. He rubs the back of his neck and then rubs his thumb over the knuckles of his other hand.

“You have a way of calming people, Phil. It’s an important skill for us to have and you seem to have a naturally calming nature. I noticed it even when I first met you.”

Phil folds in on himself a little, unsure what to make of that. What on Earth did ‘naturally calming nature’ mean? He knew what each word meant and what they meant in that order, but how could she pick up on something like that? What did he do that was ‘naturally calming’?

It’s silent for a short while before Phil clears his throat, sitting himself back up straight. “There was a kid brought into the ED for a suicide attempt today so I tried to speak to him. He wasn’t the friendliest, though, so I didn’t get anything out of him. His parents filled me in on what they knew.”

After he fills Ruby in on Will’s situation, not that there is much to tell, he turns his focus to his last patient.

“I think Dan had a panic attack in the general ward so he had to be transferred back to the ICU. He went into RA but we aren’t sure why. He was also tied down.”

“What?” she says, interrupting him.

“Yeah!” Phil confirms, equally exasperated, “by security, too.”

Dr Forrest tuts and shakes her head. “It’s as if no one has read the hospital policy for psychiatric patients. I’ll talk to them about it again but it probably won’t make any difference.”

Phil nods before moving on. “I haven’t spoken to him much, just updating him on his clinical situation. He shut down on me though, no idea why, so I left and went for lunch.”

“What do you think you’ll do?”

“I’m going to try talking to Will again after this but I think I might just sit and tell him about myself,” he says, ending it in a question. “It helped him open up when he was first brought in and after he woke up from the coma, at least a little bit anyway.”

“Sounds like having the attention off of him is what he needs.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

Dr Forrest pauses for a moment. “Hang on, how come you’re talking to him and not one of the other doctors?”

Phil blinks before remembering – yet again – that he’s not Dan’s doctor anymore.

“Oh, right.” She raises her eyebrows. “When Dan woke up, I was called. I guess no one told the ICU that I’m not Dan’s primary anymore. But I kinda just did my job while I was there. I figured he’s not living with me yet anyway so it’s not really a big problem if I help out until things can get sorted. I guess I just forgot to tell anyone, what with everything going on.”

Ruby looks at him and Phil gets the feeling she doesn’t believe him. “Philip–” she starts and yep, she definitely doesn’t believe him, “it’s important Dan gets used to his new primary before being discharged.”

Phil nods, looking down as if he’s a child getting in trouble for eating the last cookie.

“Now, who do you think would work well as Dan’s new primary?”

Phil thinks. He’s got plenty of great colleagues but he can’t stop his immediate thought – none of them would do as well as he does with Dan. He feels bad for thinking that. They’ve all been working in psychiatry for longer than him; he knows logically they’re more qualified. But Dan, he trusts Phil, and Phil knows how important trust is in this line of business.

“Um, Cassie, maybe?” She’s a nice, young woman who finished her residency the year before Phil joined. Phil has the feeling that Dan will do better with someone younger as opposed to some of the older psychiatrists at UCH.

Ruby nods, seemingly happy with his choice. “Page her and see if she can take another patient.”

“Will do,” Phil answers.

He’s about to stand up to leave when Dr Forrest continues. “And how are you doing? I know you saw Michael yesterday. How did that go?”

Phil chooses to ignore how she knows he saw Michael yesterday. And wow, was that really just yesterday? It feels like a millennium ago. Though Phil supposes every day has felt twice as long since Dan first came into the emergency department.

“Good. I bought some games to play in my off-time.”

She smiles. “That’s good. It’s important to have things to do to de-stress, especially in jobs like our’s.”

“What do you do to de-stress?”

“Well, I’ve found art to be a good stress relief for me. I paint whatever’s on my mind to get it out into the real world. It’s easier to understand, that way.”

Phil nods. “I’ve never been much of an artist but I know lots of studies that show the benefits of art therapy.”

Ruby laughs and Phil tilts his head slightly, confused. “I remember when I was a resident, everything came back to what was and wasn’t empirically supported. It’s important, yes. But if something has no evidence one way or the other and seems to work for an individual, it’s worth pursuing. People are unique, no study can capture that.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Phil says, thinking. He’s always been logical. Sure, he can have fun and be playful, but anything important always comes back to the facts. He never thought work would be any different. And it’s not like he’s got a textbook in front of him to treat his patients, but he is always referring back to what he knows as fact (or, at least, as close to fact as science can get).

It’s quiet for a bit while Phil thinks and by the time he reminds himself he’s in the middle of a conversation, Dr Forrest has already returned to her work. He decides to exit quietly but he does smile at her as he closes the door.

~~~~

Phil heads to the treatment room Will was assigned to.

“Hello,” Phil greets, closing the door behind him. Robin smiles at him in greeting but doesn’t say anything. Linda’s holding a crumpled tissue to her nose but manages to give him a watery smile. “How are you feeling?” he asks, turning his attention to his patient.

He’s on his side, facing Phil this time, but Phil guesses that’s only because the boy’s parents are on his other side. He shrugs, refusing to look at him. Phil follows his eyes and watches the drip drip drip of the IV.

Phil turns to his parents. “Would you mind if Will and I had some time alone?”

Robin shakes his head for the both of them and leads his wife from the room. Phil adjusts the curtain once the glass sliding door is closed.

“I’m Dr Lester,” Phil says, remembering he had yet to introduce himself to Will. “What’s your name?”

Will rolls his eyes. “Cut the crap. You know everything; there’s nothing for me to tell you.”

Phil smiles sadly. “Well, everything might be a bit of an exaggeration. I don’t know a lot of things. What I’m most interested in learning right now, though, is why you’re here.”

“You know why,” Will huffs. “If you're going to be annoying and ask questions, at least ask things you don’t know the answer to.”

Phil takes a seat now that he knows Will is actually up for talking. “Okay, sorry. Um, I know you were brought in because your dad found you in a,” he pauses to choose his words carefully, “in an unfortunate position. Would you like to tell me how you ended up there?”

After a sigh, Will looks at Phil for the first time. Phil watches as he scans him up and down, clearly sizing him up. “I wanted it to stop,” he says, apparently deciding Phil is safe enough.

“Wanted what to stop?” Phil prods.

“Everything.” Will rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “The bullying, the arguing, everything.”

“Well let’s tackle one thing at a time. What do you mean ‘the bullying’?”

“At school. There’s a group of guys a few years above me.”

“And what do they do?”

“The usual. You know, teasing, calling me names,” he trails off his list.

Phil nods in understanding. “Have they ever hurt you physically?”

Will nods. “Just a couple of times. When I fought back; learnt not to do that pretty quick.” He laughs curtly.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He pauses, allowing Will time to say more if he wanted to. “Now, you mentioned arguing. What’s that about?”

“My parents. They think I don’t know but they’re always arguing. And it’s always about me.”

Phil instantly wonders if that’s hyperbolic, but it’s not his place to say. He’s supposed to listen to what Will’s perspective is. If that ends up not being the whole truth, then he helps Will realise that on his own. “And what do they say?”

“They just argue about what to do with me. Dad wants to send me off to some random military school but Mum wants me to stay home. I don’t know, I guess I just got sick of causing problems. It’s not like anyone would miss me anyway.”

Phil nods, jotting down a few random notes. He’d be more thorough in his proper write up after this chat. Besides, having someone take notes in the middle of a conversation can be pretty jarring, not to mention anxiety-provoking. “Do you think your parents would have saved you if they wouldn’t have missed you?”

Will shrugs, obviously not up for seriously entertaining the question. “I just make their life difficult. And I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”

“What can’t you help, Will?”

His eyes widen and he looks at Phil. There’s a pause while he thinks.

“Look, I’m not going to do it again. Can you discharge me now?”

Phil gives a tight-lipped smile. “It doesn’t work that way, I’m afraid.”

Will sits up, anger written all over his face. “Why the hell not?” he shouts. “I said I won’t try again!”

“Because I need to properly assess you to evaluate your risk. Unfortunately, we can’t just take your word for it.”

“So you’re calling me a fucking liar? Some shrink you are.”

Phil blinks, unsure where this sudden change has come from. “I’m not calling you anything. I’m just trying to understand what’s happened to have you end up here. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t need your fucking help. Go get my parents. They’ll tell you to discharge me.”

Knowing he isn’t going to get any further while Will was in this mood, he nods. “Okay, I’ll come back later.”

“I wouldn’t fucking bother. I won’t be here much longer.”

Phil nods, not sure what to say. He decides just to leave and he waves to Will’s parents, signalling they could go back in. He’d have to talk to them again in a bit, see if he can’t get some more information out of them.

Will’s picture is still cloudy. There are so many gaps that just aren’t making sense. Though Phil supposes this is exactly why a part of him loves the job. He loves the job for lots of reasons, of course, but being able to piece together someone’s life to help them recover is a great feeling. Like putting in the final piece of a one-million piece puzzle.

~~~~

Phil checks in with Dan again but there’s little change. Whatever happened earlier is still playing on his mind because he won’t even look at Phil.

Still, he sits and talks with him. Well, more at him, since it’s a very one-sided conversation. Phil just tells him more stories about his life, most of them from his admittedly strange childhood. After a half-hour with no sign of life from Dan – other than the beeping of his heart monitor and the rise and fall of his chest – Phil resigns himself.

He has to remind himself that it’s only been a few days since Dan’s whole life got flipped on his head. Phil has to stop his train of thought and check, but it really has only been three days since Dan was brought in. Phil tells himself to give Dan more time. He’ll check in again tomorrow.

He ends up wandering around the psychiatric ward and the emergency department, making himself useful wherever he’s needed. While he’s on break to eat dinner, he gets a message from Kyle.

7:14 pm - From Kyle: I finish at 8. Bar tonight?

Phil smiles, glad Kyle’s messaged him. It means they’re okay. Maybe not good, but okay. But it’s a Sunday night and Phil honestly just wants his bed. He’s typing out an apology message when he stops. Michael’s words are ringing in his ear.

Remember to spend time with the people you care about.

Even if things are awkward between them, Phil does still care about Kyle and he knows Kyle cares about him.

He closes his eyes, sighs, deletes the message and sends an affirmative one instead. He’s finishing at the same time so it works out well. Most of the time one of them has to hang around for at least a couple of hours. Sometimes it’ll be too long and they decide to just meet at Marcus’, or forgo it entirely. Though the latter is reserved for nights after too-long shifts when they wouldn’t be any fun anyway. Marcus’ is a sort of staple in their life at this point and Phil’s glad their talk isn’t getting in the way of that.

After doing a final check-in with Liz and Luke – and having to convince him to take his medication again – he clocks out for the night.

“Hey!” he calls when he sees Kyle leaning against one of the pillars outside the hospital entrance.

He turns and smiles sheepishly. “Hey. Ready to go?”

Phil nods and they set off. It doesn’t take long to hail a cab. They walk most of the time since it’s not too far, but Kyle’s feet are “about to fall the fuck off” so they climb into the car instead.

The cabbie is familiar with Marcus’ bar and happily takes them there. He asks them about their day and Phil manages to make chitchat. Kyle, on the other hand, is silent and leaning against the door, looking as if he’s hoping the lock will break and he’ll tumble out of the car. Phil wonders why Kyle even asked him to go to Marcus’ when it’s clear he’s so uncomfortable in Phil’s presence. He decides not to question it and try to just enjoy the night.

They pull out outside Marcus’ after a few minutes and Phil hands the cabbie a £10 note, telling him to keep the change.

Kyle seems to light up once they enter the front door and Phil’s not sure where the sudden change comes from.

He grins at Phil and rushes over to the bar, hopping onto one of the stools with a bounce. “Marcus!” he says loudly over the music. Phil laughs as he follows him – it’s as if Kyle’s already drunk just from the atmosphere.

“The usual, lads?”

Kyle nods. “Times two!”

Phil takes his own seat as Marcus starts making their drinks. They both thank him when they’re served and Kyle takes a big gulp while Phil stirs his.

They sit in silence and enjoy their drinks for a bit. Though for Kyle, it seems more like a competition Phil never agreed to.

“No going slow tonight?” he asks with a laugh as Kyle empties his second glass. Phil’s is still on his first and it’s only half empty.

Kyle just blinks at him slowly. Phil watches his cheeks heat up and as Marcus comes back to hand Kyle his third drink, he puts his hand up. “No thanks, sorry.”

Marcus just nods and puts it down. “What’s up?” Phil asks, giving him the opportunity to discuss what’s on his mind without making it sound like he’s going to therapise him.

Kyle swivels his stool so it’s facing the bar instead of half facing Phil. He shrugs and leans over the bar to grab the drink. He takes a sip and puts it back down.

Everything’s off tonight. Phil can’t pinpoint why but it just is. The music doesn’t calm him in its usual way and the alcohol certainly doesn’t give him a pleasant buzz.

As he watches Kyle, who's watching the dance floor, he can’t help but wonder if Kyle’s cutting himself off to avoid a repeat of the other night. And if he is, Phil can’t blame him – he doesn’t want a repeat either.

Next Chapter

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #phandom #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #philip lester #phil lester #amazingphil #christy's writing #Let the Human In Fic

7 notes · View notes

supervoldejaygent · 3 years

Text

Batman Band-Aids (2/6)

Fandom: Arrow/The Flash

Pairing: Barry Allen x Reader

Word Count: 760

Summary: Team Arrow searches for the attacker that knocked out three team members, noticing a clear way to find her. However, their lead doesn’t direct them in the way they thought.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! In case anyone is wondering how I’m posting these so fast, it’s because I wrote the first two parts 2 years ago, but I wasn’t never sure if I wanted to continue it or not. Luckily, I had a struck of luck last week and wrote a 3rd part! I’m also in the process of catching up on requests and a multichapter fic I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. Also, real quick I would like to thank all those that are still reading, liking, and reblogging my older fics. I really appreciate it! Alright, that’s it, so please enjoy! :)

Previous --- Next

~ ~ ~

“Oliver?” the murky voice asked. The night time vigilante groaned, slowly opening his eyes when the familiar voice called for him again.

The lighting burned, but after lots of blinking, Oliver fully opened his eyes. Staring at the ceiling, Oliver groaned again; he was back in the bunker.

“He’s awake,” a voice, that he recognized as John Diggle, said.

“Hey,” Felicity said, Oliver looked to his right and noted the small smile on her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” he replied, his voice cracking and horse. “How long have I been out?” He pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing at the odd feeling in his neck.

“A few hours.”

“Do you remember anything?” Diggle asked.

Oliver did his best to think back, but could only picture the gun she aimed at him and her voice. That’s none of your concern. Oliver shook his head. “Not anything that will help.”

Diggle sighed and crossed his arms. “That’s what Thea and Laurel said.”

Oliver’s ears perked up at his friends’ names. “They went after her?”

Felicity nodded. “Laurel was fine, but we found a knife in Thea’s shoulder.”

“What?”

“We’re fine,” Thea said, her voice coming from the entrance of the secret elevator. Her left arm was in a sling and a scowl graced her features. “At least she didn’t kill us.”

“Why didn’t she kill you?” Diggle asked. “She went through all the trouble to kill Ted Hayes. Why not kill the Green Arrow as well?”

“And why kill Ted Hayes?” Laurel asked.

Everyone shrugged, except Felicity. “Because he’s a notorious arms dealer.”

“How do you know that?”

“Did some digging. Apparently, he is the one that supplies eighty percent of the weapons found in the Glades.”

“Okay,” Thea said. “But why kill him while he’s in public? Why not wait until he’s backed in a corner with no way to go?”

“Maybe she wanted an audience,” Diggle said.

“Or maybe she wanted to get the Green Arrow’s attention,” pitched in Oliver.

“Why do you say that?”

“She shot him in the forehead. That’s not out of luck.”

“Yeah, but she missed the first shot,” Felicity pointed out.

“What if that was on purpose? Look, maybe she wanted to gain my attention before killing him. I saw her duck away after the second shot before taking Felicity outside. She almost looked bored at the sight of everyone rushing out of the building.”

“Well, that would mean she’s done this before,” said Thea.

Oliver nodded. “It means she’s a trained killer.”

“You think the League had something to do with this?” asked Diggle.

“It can’t be the League as a whole. Maybe a lone wolf that left?”

“If she’s from the League,” Felicity said. “Then she must be linked to Ra’s power source.”

“Why do you say that, Felicity?”

She sighed. “When the three of you were dumped at Oliver’s campaign office, which by the way probably means she knows that you’re the Green Arrow, I found these band-aids where she shot you. Except for Thea’s shoulder, where she left the knife.”

“And that’s significant because...?”

“Well because they’re not regular band-aids.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I tried to remove them so I could treat the wound underneath it, but I couldn’t. They were stuck to the skin like an octopus tentacle.”

“But we didn’t find any band-aids when we woke up,” Laurel said, subconsciously reaching to her neck, where she was hit with a tranq.

“That’s the weird part. While Oliver was unconscious, I noticed that at different times the band-aid would look smaller than the last time I saw it. Within two hours, they were gone.”

“So, the band-aid reabsorbed itself?”

“Something like that, which is something that I’ve never seen before.”

“Maybe it’s not the League then,” Thea said.

“Were there any other clues you found?” Oliver asked.

Felicity shook her head. “The only thing I can think of is that the band-aids had the Batman signal on them.”

“Batman?”

“Hold on,” said Thea. “You don’t think she could be from Gotham?”

“Probably not, considering there are no known labs in Gotham where our shooter could’ve made these band-aids.”

Oliver nodded, a few different theories racing through his head. He stood up from his seat, groaning as his leg almost gave out. Felicity rushed to help him, but he shook her off, telling her he was okay.

“Why don’t we contact STAR Labs, and ask---”

“I already did,” said Felicity, holding up her phone. “They said they would be happy to help.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

#arrow x reader #arrowverse imagines #the flash #arrow #barry allen x reader #oliver queen #thea queen #felicity smoak #john diggle #the flash x reader #the flash imagines #arrow imagines

45 notes · View notes

ladyartemesia · 4 years

Text

▨ Lady Artemesia’s Milestone Message and Milestone Fic Preview ▨

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

Dear Mutuals and Followers,

When I started this blog nearly six months ago(ish?) I never expected to fall so in love with the lovely people in this community. You have been wonderful and supportive and I have truly enjoyed getting to know you, and talking to you, and loving BTS proudly alongside of you. Thank you for every moment, I have so many truly incredible moots - ALL of whom are SIGNIFICANTLY cooler than I am - and if I attempted to list you all, my perpetually scattered brain would no doubt forget someone and I’d have to fall apart dramatically about it. So...to all of you - thank you for following me. I am so bloomin thrilled that you do. To my amazing mutuals - each and every one of you are brilliant creators and supportive members of our community and I benefit every day from the art and positive energy you bring to my dash. Thank you so much...

to my hearts...

There are a few of you who have been much closer than others and you I must recognize with only these inadequate words...

I utterly adore you. Thank you for being my friend.

▨ Amazing Ana @xjoonchildx ▨ Wonderful Lindy @ppersonna ▨ Sweet Sunshine Donna @taetaewonderland ▨ My First Friend and Angel Jahni @glossyfever ▨ Fabulous Lemon @lemonjoonah ▨ and my fellow Thirst Queen Reese (there is a line in this fic I wrote just for you - you’ll prolly know right away) @luxekook ▨

Honestly there are many more names I could put on this list, Many more people I have grown close to and I will continue to grow close too - believe me when I say - I luv and appreciate you all, but there are 7 members of BTS and these 6 ladies are - in many ways - my “other 6.” The roles they have played in my growth as a writer and a creator have been significant. They read my work, encourage me, hype me up, share my finished products, and - most importantly - share their friendship. I am blessed to be a part of their world.

Thank You All... My Lovlies...

- Viola

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

Heart of the Storm

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

• FIC PREVIEW •

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

Genre: Fluff • Smut • Hint of Angst • Secret Feelings/Strangers to Lovers

Word Count: 4kish (preview 1kish)

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort • Hints of Classism • JK is Soft and Strong (full fic has more warnings)

Rating: Explicit/18+ (for the full fic)

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the handsome RA that you could never quite bring yourself to talk to, and you are the ice princess whose status kept you far out of his reach... But a selfless act of kindness in the midst of a terrible storm forges an unexpected bond between you - one that could break your guarded heart... or finally set it free.

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

This is the song JK sings...

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

You’re afraid of storms.

Born to privilege (at least so you’ve been told), but money could not buy the love of absent parents, nor could it purchase any sort of freedom from the kind of fear that gripped you now.

You shouldn’t even be here...

Alone in a dorm while everyone around you caught planes and trains and buses back to their diverse points of origin.

The girl who usually slept in the bed across from yours is your roommate and best friend since sophomore year of high school. She was a scholarship case at the elite private prep where the obscenely wealthy dynasties of Southern California sent their entitled spawn.

A lone pair of Chuck Taylors in a sea of Jimmy Choos.

And a breath of fresh air.

Her father worked in stores; your father owned them. Yet you had become sisters in the truest sense of the word.

When the storms came, she climbed into your bed and held you till the thunder died down.

But she and the comfort of her familiar embrace were 30,000 feet above you now; well on the way to celebrate the spring holidays with her chaotic tribe.

You could have escaped for the week - like the majority of your peers - but your father was on vacation with his new wife (who graduated from high school a mere four years before you did) and the dorms were infinitely more inviting than the sterile halls of your family’s real estate holdings.

So here you were.

Alone in a storm.

Or so you thought...

Being an RA looked good on resumes and paid better than most work study jobs, but for Jeon Jungkook, the obligation to stay in the dorms over spring break (when he could be chasing music festivals along the California coast) was a definite downside.

He heard the sobs on his way up from the laundry and dropped the basket of clean clothes on the stairs.

Only one person signed up to stay over the holidays - the only person who managed to spark shivers down his spine without effort or awareness.

The princess.

That’s what they called you when they thought you weren’t listening - an unoriginal label laced with jealousy and petty bitterness.

But it fit you, nonetheless.

Elegant even when you were clumsy. Distant even in a crowd. Reserved in ways that spoke of intensive social training and endless expectations.

And you were screaming.

His hand wrapped around your doorknob in a matter of seconds, but you could not hear him calling out to you over the thunder and the ringing in your ears.

You did not hear the lock splinter when he slammed his body against the frame like his father taught him to do in case of a fire or an emergency.

Jungkook saw you often in and out of the dorms - yet you never really spoke to him, never offered him more than the occasional pleasantry or disinterested smile.

He was out of your orbit and you were out of his league.

But the princess was nowhere in sight now...

Now you were just a terrified girl curled up on her bed and Jungkook felt his heart wrench painfully at the sight of you so untethered.

You could not see him - even though he stood right in front of you. It wasn’t till his hands connected with your shoulders that you finally registered the presence of another human being and slowly brought your eyes up to meet his.

There was a moment of silence as your gazes melded together in a strange intimate haze unlike anything either of you had encountered before.

Then you reached out - curling your hand into the loose fabric of his shirt as you yanked him down on top of you.

“Please,” you whispered into the firm plane of his chest, “please hold me.”

Strong muscled arms wrapped around you.

And for the first time in so very long...

You felt safe.

He smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of vanilla.

But oh...

He felt like home.

Not the many houses you grew up in - but a home. The kind you only ever heard of.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, lips pressed intimately to the sweet softness of your hair, “I’ve got you.”

Thunder shook the room again and you burrowed impossibly closer to him, too frightened to notice that you wore only a t-shirt and nothing else, too terrified to care that the haven you sought was the beautiful man you passed by countless times in last few months, but could never quite work up the courage to speak to.

Now your body tangled desperately with his, drawing immeasurable comfort from his solid warmth and the soothing circles he traced over your back.

Jungkook was profoundly aware of both your state of undress and the soft curves of your body pressed insistently against his own, but that awareness paled in comparison to the fierce wave of protectiveness swelling up within him.

You were no damsel in distress. You were brilliant, beautiful, and president of the self-defense club. He’d seen you flip a linebacker over your shoulder like a pancake during a demonstration once (which had given him an immediate boner for reasons he deliberately never explored).

But right now - right here - in this moment - you needed him... and holding you close - keeping you safe was the only thing on his mind.

The tremors came and went sporadically as the storm raged on around you. His arms were an anchor each time the fear threatened to sweep you away.

It took a few minutes for your scattered senses to identify the new sound braiding hypnotically in between the rolls of thunder and the rhythmic cadence of your own breathing.

Jeon Jungkook was singing to you.

Another time it might have amused you to consider that a man whose face and form bordered on sinful possessed a voice that was utterly angelic. The notes he sang curled through the air, piercing effortlessly past the fog to wrap over your heart like a warm blanket.

“I see you getting sad... I see it running through your blood...”

Your muscles began to relax. The pounding in your chest began to slow.

“Let it run like water out of mud...”

Your breathing gradually evened out.

“Yell the sadness loud... Throw it up against the wall...”

Sensation crept back into your limbs. Awareness returned.

“See what stays then go and put it on... It keeps you warm…”

And suddenly you were in his arms - truly in his arms for the first time that night.

“I will love you anyway with all your demons in the way… Nothing can keep us apart...I walk through walls into your heart…”

His warmth was everywhere. The gentle comfort he brushed over your skin swirled around you till the sound of the storm faded away.

Till there was only him.

“I don’t mind… I don’t mind… I don’t ...mind…”

He felt the change in you, the incremental return from disconnected terror to tentative presence of mind, but you made no move to disentangle yourself, content to let his touch and his voice chase away the last trace of your nightmare.

You would stay in this moment - safe and surrounded and so unexpectedly content - forever if you could.

Jeon Jungkook had found you adrift and pulled you back from the edge. He’d done what no one else could..

What no one else (save your best friend) had even bothered to try.

And he’d done it selflessly.

As a corporate princess, you were worth millions in assets, but so often left begging for pittance when it came to genuine care.

You would have paid millions to be held like this just once.

The adrenaline raging through your body finally began to dissipate, and in its immediate wake, exhaustion crashed over you heavy and hard.

Sleep tugged insistently at the corners of your mind, but one last coherent urge burned so brightly that it could not be ignored or overtaken.

Your fingers twisted into the thick curls at the nape of his neck, drawing him down till you felt the soft press of his lips against your own.

You had never kissed like this; intimately - languidly - as if the brush of his mouth against yours was familiar across worlds and lifetimes. The small intake breath before he gave in to your gentle exploration was the loveliest sound you had ever heard.

He was the song that drew you - not like a siren to your doom - but like a lighthouse to the shore.

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

FULL FIC POSTING TUESDAY 6/30

COMMENT ON THIS POST IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

Ask My Muse: Have a question for the characters in this work? Send it to my ask box and hear their side of the story.

Endnote: Please let me know what you think so far? Theories? Ideas? Anything really... Feedback is really the only compensation I will ever receive for producing this content. I swear I treasure each word like the gold.

Masterlist: I got more where that came from...

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #ficswithluv #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #milestone fic

140 notes · View notes

aprillikesthings · 3 months

Text

Can I squeeze in one more tonight let's find out

(and then it's time for an edible, a shower, and the last chapter of that kinky Adora/Huntara fic that I mentioned in this post)

s3 ep3 Once Upon a Time in the Waste

First, Catra's little self-indulgent pity party for herself at Scorpia

angy kitty!!

But yeah Catra's acting all nihilist as fuck in this episode just all "I don't give a shit about anything" in that way that makes it painfully obvious she in fact gives many shits about many things and is trying to convince herself as much as anyone else

Anyway at the end of the bar Huntara's previous friend are like UGH THAT SHE-RA BITCH and Catra literally says, "Are you kidding me?"

"not that like, I care, or anything, but where'd they go"

Scorpia: uhhhh why are we asking about them when that's not what we're here for???

to be fair to Catra this is in fact correct

her little emo speech here is so cringey

that said I am in fact amused that they did a close up on her butt

(lol I was LITERALLY just talking to @corpseauthority about the scene in Steven Universe where Peridot pulls the little alien shorts over her butt while giggling, and I found the post I made about it at the time)

Adora, Huntara, Bow, and Glimmer are poking around Mara's abandoned old ship, which has had most of its guts stolen for parts, but you can still hear Mara's voice saying "She-Ra. Etheria. Gone." It's spooky

every time Catra gets a new jacket I get gayer

Scorpia: this is fun :) Catra: ha ha yeah

And then they get ambushed

Meanwhile they find Mara! or a hologram of her anyway. It is unfortunately just a recording on a loop.

Adora has another understandable breakdown of sorts, and bangs on a dead console, and voila:

"Oh I have one of those, I guess I just stick it in"

-and another recording starts up

"if you're seeing this, it means you wield the sword. You're the new She-Ra. It means I failed. I was supposed to be the last. And I am so, so sorry."

Back to Catra etc., and both me and Catra laughed the first time someone said Tung Lashor

(I assume this is a character name they were stuck with from the original series, and I've noticed they mostly avoid lampshading the goofy names but sometimes you just have to)

CLAW HIS FACE

(she throws sand in his eyes instead, and then falls into the quicksand, and she takes the whip)

fangie!!! I was just thinking about how it's been a while lol. Anyway now all the random fighters in the Crimson Waste are chanting her name.

AAAAAND back to Mara

Side note: Mara definitely looks older than Adora

"We were the first ones to settle Etheria, to really study this planet's magic. How could it go so wrong?"

but then it starts breaking up--

"Light Hope use the --can't--weapon--the weapon--weapon"

"I opened a portal to a completely empty dimension and pulled Etheria in. I hid us from the rest of the universe to keep everyone safe. This is the one place they'll never find us. I saw what they would do. The deaths that would follow. I couldn't stop them before but I can now. Hiding is our only option. Maybe it's been a week. Maybe it's been thousands of years. I never wanted to be a hero. I won't be remembered as one.

"With it, you can activate a portal. So I'm begging you. Don't do it. Leave us here. If you open a portal death and destruction will follow.

"If not, everyone will--"

and the message cuts out and the room goes dark again.

AND THEN, TRANQ DARTS but we know who has those now don't we

But also bc of that kinky fic I'm reading this screenshot is v entertaining

I will never stop screenshotting the way their expressions change when they unexpectedly hear the other's voice

Catra's "hey Adora" is one of the better ones ngl

the minions take down Huntara (with two blowdarts), Adora grabs the sword, Catra grabs that with the whip, Scorpia has Adora held in a pose that is Not Suggestive At All, Actually

Huntara gets up, grabs Bow and Glimmer and runs, and Scorpia knocks out Catra with her tail venom

whomever storyboarded this episode draws unreasonably sexy Catras.

Anyway Catra gives a toast to Scorpia which is very nice of her but to be fair she is an excellent mood. We get to hear Catra's genuine happy laugh for the first time in like a whole fucking SEASON

poor Scorpia. Catra is only encouraging her :(

"Hey, this is fun, and it's called a 'party!'"

Catra gives a little speech about how YAY SHE HAS THE SWORD it's the key to the whole PLANET and NOW Hordak will have to respect her!!!

Scorpia: orrrr since you literally hate your life back there, we could just stay here?

the way she's hugging the sword tho

Me: I'm reading too much into things Scorpia: pssht forget Adora Catra: *ears visibly droop* Scorpia: anyway let's rule the Crimson Waste!!! Catra: uhhhh, I'm gonna go check on Ad--uh our prisoner Scorpia: *saddest face ever*

🎵more cartoon bondage🎶

whyyyyy is she so hot

Adora: did u know Hordak is trying to open a portal that allows a huge Horde army from space to find Etheria and murder us all Catra: duh I'm in the Horde I'm cool with that >:3 Adora: did I mention the part where they MURDER ALL OF US, THAT INCLUDES YOU

Adora's face tho

Catra: also pfft how do you know Hordak's plans anyway Adora: oh our evil mom Shadow Weaver told me, did I not mention she's at my place Catra: UGGGH

(now hate-fuck!)

Catra: so you're saying the reason Shadow Weaver ran off from the Fright Zone and got my ass sentenced to death in the Crimson Waste is because she wanted to hang out with you instead???? this is ALL YOUR FAULT??

(yeah this would in fact hit all of Catra's angriest/saddest buttons, and yeah of course she'd blame Adora and not Shadow Weaver)

Catra is lookin' a little deranged at this information but also

ahahaha

but yeah the party was still going on

The list of people that consistently make Catra visibly cry: Adora Shadow Weaver

"We are going to open a portal. And we are going to crush them all."

EPISODE OVER and in retrospect I should've given up and posted it and reblogged it bc I had to delete like ten images so I could post some really good ones near the end there

and this episode only took *checks clock* forty minutes longer than I was hoping. sigh.

#april rewatches spop #once upon a time in the waste

4 notes · View notes

shipmistress9 · 4 years

Text

The Perks Of Your Boyfriend Being A Ghost - 2

You know how it is when authors say "This is definitely just a one-shot!". In many cases, they don't actually mean it. xD So, as announced... part 2 of this self-indulgent fic.

AO3

Today had been a good day.

Zephyr and Nuffink only had one small fight right before lunch that thankfully had been easy to solve – Zephyr's 'stolen' notebook had actually just been in the wrong drawer of her desk. Aside from that, the two had taken turns playing with Brianna for a while so that Astrid actually had had the time to do some dearly-needed chores around the house. Both bathrooms and the kitchen were clean again, the lamp in Nuffink's room was repaired, and the leg of Zephyr's favourite cuddly dragon sewed back on. She'd even found the time to do some baking in-between, rewarding herself and her children with a bunch of fresh cookies for tea.

All in all, Astrid felt remarkably good after this day. Accomplished. Successful. Happy. She was even humming along with the music on the radio as she tidied up the toys and clothes and kitchenware from all over the living room. A good day indeed.

She perked up when the song ended and the first beats of the next one followed, smiling to herself. It was an older song, one of her favourites from when she'd been young. Feeling giddy, she danced around the room, singing along with every line. She still knew them by heart.

"Mum? Are you okay?"

Astrid glanced up when she heard Zephyr's puzzled voice and couldn't suppress a grin. All three children were standing in the doorway, undoubtedly drawn by her terribly off-tune singing, and staring at her with varying degrees of bewilderment.

Once, the thought of someone seeing her like that would have been embarrassing. But Astrid was long past that point and just enjoyed feeling good for once.

"Yep, fine as a flower in spring." She made a sloppy pirouette, giggling as she nearly lost her balance. She was just too giddy to care.

"Mummy dancy!" Brianna came toddling over to her, her tiny arms reaching for her.

Astrid happily lifted her up, whirling around some more with Brianna in her arms, and chuckled when the little girl squealed in delight.

It didn't take long, only a few more seconds, before Nuffink joined them, goofing around with the beat of the music. Zephyr watched them a little longer, but then, with a shrug and a roll of her eyes, started to dance as well. Astrid shifted Brianna to sit on her hip and used the other one to help Zephyr and Nuffink pirouetting until they could barely stand straight anymore.

Before long, they were all laughing giddily and eventually fell onto the old sofa, everyone on top of everyone else. Cooing happily, Astrid closed her arms around her children, cuddling them tight and basking in their laughter.

Moments like this were what made all the hardship worth it.

. o O o .

Later that day, Astrid stood at the window in her bedroom and watched the sun setting behind the forest. For once, bedtime had gone by without any drama; Nuffink had fallen asleep while Astrid had read them a bedtime story, with Brianna already asleep on her arm, and Zephyr hadn't protested against turning the lights off in time either.

And now, for the first time in what felt like forever, Astrid had the chance to just enjoy the pretty view outside. She'd thought about putting the time to good use, maybe prepare food for some other more hectic day or sort through more laundry. But then she'd decided that she'd done enough that day. She'd earned herself a calm evening, hadn't she?

Content like she hadn't felt in a long time, she watched as the glowing light dipped behind the trees. They seemed to be on fire, the sky above them painted beautifully in orange and pink.

The moment the last ray of sunshine left the house, she felt his touch again. It was as if he stood behind her for real, his chest against her back, his hands loosely on her hips, and his mouth on her neck. Her instincts told her to lean back against him, but she knew better than to give in. She’d tried that once, and instead of cuddling into his embrace had stumbled right through him. Remembering his remorseful look was enough to make her hold still and just enjoy his closeness instead.

You looked happy. So beautiful.

His words in her mind were accompanied by a memory that wasn’t her own. She saw herself as she danced with her kids, saw her own smile through Hiccup’s eyes. It made her smile again, feeling his adoration through his mental touch.

“I am happy,” she replied in a quiet whisper. She turned around to look up into his pale face. “Our life might be difficult but that doesn’t mean it’s not good. Even if I had a fairy’s three free wishes, there’s only one thing I’d want to change.”

Oh? And what’s that?

He sounded amused, a small smile tugging at his pale lips.

She lifted her hand and let the tips of her fingers glide along the outline of his cheek and jaw. There was a tangible resistance, almost as solid as skin, and she could swear that she could also feel his stubble. How did he do that?

“I wish I could live with you,” she breathed, fighting to keep the sudden surge of sadness out of her eyes. “I wish we could have more than just these shared hours at night. Don’t get me wrong, I’d never want to miss them. But… but I wish I could live with you. Does that make sense?”

Hiccup’s gaze dropped away from her eyes, his smile turning into something more sombre as he leaned his head into her touch and laid his ghostly hand over hers.

I know what you mean. My life was not unhappy, but now that I know you it seems to have been rather pointless.

There it was again, the underlying sadness that so often lay like a shadow over him. A part of Astrid wanted to curse herself for bringing the topic up in the first place, but she couldn’t help it now. And it had been the truth anyway, not something she wanted to hide. It wasn’t just the way he took care of her sometimes she enjoyed. It was all of it, all of him.

Carefully to not move right through him, she nudged his head up so he would look at her again. "I love you."

That brought the smile back to his face. He cradled her cheek with his large hand and kissed her, with more firmness than she was used to but she certainly wasn't complaining. It felt good to have their lips slide together, to have his tongue move with her own.

I love you, too.

Astrid hummed against his mouth, overwhelmed by the sincerity she felt in his words. She still wasn't used to hearing these words and actually believing them. Her marriage had left her heart bruised and aching, but with Hiccup it was healing a little more with every passing day.

"Come here." She pulled him along to her bed. Her tugging at his hand surprised him, and for a moment, they were both startled. Usually, Hiccup had to concentrate to not resolve into thin air, so her catching him by surprise like that was new.

But it was good, too. It meant that he was getting stronger still, as became evident as well as they settled on her bed. This time, she could feel him. He lay above her, but instead of just hovering in the air, she felt his weight pressing down on her – not as heavy as a grown man should be but he was there. She felt him move with her as his kisses and touches left her restless, felt him grind against her in the sweetest ways. His mouth nipping at her neck, one of his hands in her hair and the other caressing her side – it was all just wonderful.

She chuckled when his hand slipped beneath her shirt, pushing the hem up to reveal the naked skin of her belly.

"Since when do you bother with clothes?"

Hiccup's lips twitched.

I thought it would feel more… real to you that way.

He sounded hesitant, a little embarrassed even, and hid his face against her neck.

"Mmh, very thoughtful of you." She placed her hands to his shoulders and gently nudged him upwards.

He took a moment to react, just long enough for Astrid to notice– when had the appearance of his shirt disappeared? She blinked, taken by surprise, but held back any comments. She didn't want him to feel self-conscious and actually really liked the impression of ghostly skin beneath her fingers. She shifted a little, luxuriating in feeling his body against her own – or something close to that – and beamed up at him. "You're amazing."

Hiccup smiled sadly and shook his head.

I'm just trying to make you happy. You do so much, I want to give some of it back to you.

Astrid closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. They’d had this conversation before. Just like his bar for what accounted for a good mother was rather low, the same seemed to be true for what she accounted for as a good man, a good lover. Her former husband certainly had never treated her like Hiccup did now.

But she didn’t want to talk or even think about that anymore. All she wanted was to enjoy her time with Hiccup as best she could.

Leaning up, she brought her mouth back to his and resumed kissing him. Hiccup followed happily, once again treated her with knowing hands all over her body. Unable to resist, Astrid even splayed her hands over his chest and shoulders, relishing in what little she could explore of him. Sometimes, her fingers only found thin air, when she moved too quickly or with too much pressure, but this was still so much more than only weeks before, so wonderful.

But then she felt something new and paused. She hadn’t expected that.

“Is… is that a supernatural erection?” she giggled, unable to help herself.

Hiccup stilled, and when she heard his voice in her head, it was filled with laughter, too.

Ha! You could call it that, I guess.

They laugh together for a moment until, testingly and to assure Hiccup that she wasn’t laughing at him, Astrid ground herself against him and hummed. “Mmh, feels good.”

Hiccup beamed down at her, even as his cheeks appeared to be a little darker as if he was embarrassed.

More to make it more real for you. If… well, if that’s what you want?

Astrid bit her lip and shuddered as a pleasant shiver ran down her spine. So far, Hiccup had only used his hands and mouth(s) to please her. This though... “Yes, I do want that,” she breathed.

He kissed her again, hungrily, then relieved her of her shirt and kept grinding into her, his forehead resting against her own. It left her head spinning and let a deep moan sound from deep within her, her body so hungry for this kind of intimacy. In her mind, she heard him groan.

“Do you feel it, too?” she asked, a little breathlessly.

A shadow crossed Hiccup’s face and he averted his gaze, shrugging non-committedly.

No… But I remember what it feels like. The longing. The desire. And watching you… listening to you… You make it easy to call these memories back.

His words made her blush and biting her lip, she, too, looked away. She was used to getting teased for the noises she made during sex. Hiccup had assured her many times that he didn’t mind and even liked them… but it was still difficult for her to accept.

After a few more minutes of making out like this, she fought to get her legs out of her trousers. She struggled a little but it was so worth it when he settled between her legs, now just as naked as she was.

Hiccup leaned over her again and resumed kissing her. The movements of his phantom body became more intense, grinding against her and making her gasp through their kiss. Oh, it had been so long since she’d felt anything like this, the intensity, the desire, it was real.

Perfection…

The word vibrated in her head and all but made her glow from the inside. His mental voice was so full of sincerity, of love and adoration. With a little effort, she opened her eyes to look at him, wanted to convey the same feelings to him.

“I could say the same about you,” she whispered, a little breathlessly as her hands fluttered along the outline of his chest.

He chuckled, his translucent body vibrating against her own, and it left her mewling. She needed more.

Stomping down on her embarrassment and insecurities, she let her hand glide down between their legs. When her hand closed around his cock, she let out a needy groan. He felt big. Big and hard and even throbbing a little against her palm. How much concentration did that cost him?

She looked up at him, biting her lip as she searched for his consent. He nodded ever so slightly, his smile glowing with love as she guided him inside her.

Hiccup didn’t move fast, no mindless thrusting or anything like that, but the intrusion still stung. Enough for her to wince at the unexpected pain and for Hiccup to halt immediately.

What’s wrong?

A little embarrassed, Astrid chuckled. “Nothing, just… go slowly? I might be a bit out of practice. It’s been a while since...”

Since before Brianna’s birth, to be precise. But those were more memories she didn’t want to think about now.

Well, it’s been a while for me, too.

There was again humour in is voice but also wistfulness, and Astrid kissed him again to wipe it away. Hiccup gave in and with her encouragement slowly pressed into her again. This time, it felt better, the stretch not as bad and just enough for her to feel him. As if…

She pulled back to look up at him, incredulous. “Did… did you make your cock smaller?”

Once again, Hiccup averted his face in embarrassment and shrugged.

Yes? Perks of no solid body, remember? And my ego is not so big that I can’t accept such an alteration. I want this to feel good for you. ”

She hummed, touched by this gesture, and let herself enjoy his attention. She couldn’t say whether the perks of his ghostly body gave him that much of an advantage or whether he was just naturally good at this, but she could definitely say that she’d never had sex as good as this before. Hiccup started at a slow pace, just sliding in and out of her while he kept distracting her with his kisses. For all she could guess, he tried different angles until he’d found the one that made her moan the loudest, and only when she was mewling for more did his thrusts became harder and faster.

Beautiful!

Hiccup’s voice was like humming in the back of her mind, a string of praises and little groans that made her feel wanted like never before.

Piece by piece he took her apart, Astrid barely able to even think. He felt so good, so amazing, his cock inside her, his lips and hands roaming her skin. It left her shaking, trembling, helpless against the onslaught of sensations. Out of reflex, she grasped at his shoulders, whimpering when he couldn’t withstand her strength, and she had to clutch at the sheets beneath her instead.

With precision, he pushed her closer and closer toward the edge, and then right over it. Stars exploded behind her eyes as she spasmed between her sheets, her body clenching hungrily around Hiccup’s cock, and her mind was going entirely blank, except for Hiccup’s voice in her thoughts. There was a deep groan, so full of longing that it made her heart burst – and two words.

So… warm!

When Astrid came to it again, still breathless and with bones that felt like jelly, Hiccup was still above her. He was cuddled close to her, his face against her neck, and if she hadn’t known better she would have said that he was trembling.

“Hiccup? Is everything okay?”

He grunted, not really an answer but at least he’d heard her.

She waited, for him to say something or for her mind to start working again, whatever happened first, when she realised what he’d said.

“Wait! You said warm. Did… did you feel that after all?”

Again, he shook, his hands tightening on her arms as if he needed to hold on to her.

I… I did.

The admission was accompanied by a sense of overwhelming confusion.

What… what is happening to me?

To Astrid’s relief, he didn’t sound scared, but she could understand his restlessness. And after he always took care of her, now it was her turn to take care of him. She made to look at him, wanted to reassure him that, surely, everything was okay. But when she looked up at him, the words got stuck in her throat, her mouth falling open.

For the eyes that looked back at her were of a bright green.

-----

So, what's this? More control, certainly. But...?

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

#Hiccstrid #fanafiction #httyd #Astrid Hofferson #Hiccup Haddock #Ghost Boyfriend AU #lemon #not for children #modern AU

46 notes · View notes

baticorngirl · 2 years

Text

Title: "And They All Lived Happily Ever After" (Dedicated to@mac-attack5 so she'll cry while reading, details in 1st A/N)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Batman/DC Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationship(s): Ra's al Ghul & Talia al Ghul, Talia al Ghul & Melisande, (Heavily Mentioned) Ra's al Ghul/Sora, Characters: Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul, Melisande (Talia's mother),

Summary: When she was small, Talia al Ghul's favorite bedtime story used to be her father's own origin story. It had excitement, twists, revenge, and a moral that Ra's urged her to follow constantly, but that was not the reason she liked it. She liked it because of the beginning. The part where her father was kind, anti-murder, anti-death, and pro-humanity. Perhaps it was a guilty pleasure of hers, to imagine that time. Her father would be very upset to think of her enjoying these thoughts, she knew. Perhaps rightfully. Perhaps she needed to learn better with maturity, or needed to stop being so naive.

Or perhaps, those thoughts were the most beautiful thing she had.

Chapter 6 of 6

Author's Note:

I just want to say, before you even begin to read, that the dialogue and whatnot for this entire fic realistically would probably not be in English, and I am aware of that (but I am also monolingual). There's a line in this chapter that talks about a "relatively commonly known language" but there are plenty of well-known languages other than English, obviously lol. I just wanted to clarify that, now please enjoy the final chapter!

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

Three years passed.

In that time, Talia, through a mix of excuses and avoidance, managed to kill only around five more people. As much as she hated to admit it, it was getting easier– slightly. Her most recent kill, she hadn't even had nightmares after, and had only cried for a minute, at most. In some ways, it was undoubtedly relieving to not deal with the overwhelming sorrow of her first kill, but in other ways, it was even more bothersome. Her mind was adapting, just as Ra's had promised. He'd been right about killing; Murder comes much more naturally with experience.

That meant, of course, that Talia's mind was twisting into the one of not just a murderer, but a multi-murderer. A serial killer, even.

Even at fourteen years old, it was a terrifying thought. She understood why a person might wish to kill, and she understood why her father did. But she didn't currently wish to, at least not on those spontaneous Ra's chose for her, so to think that she was starting to be alright with killing random people, some even more innocent than others, made her feel powerful. Not in a good way, though– Talia felt, in all of the word's disturbing glory, sadistic.

It wasn't a comforting feeling, to say the least. But, for now, blood did still bother her in similar ways to her words at four-years-old; "The person was alive, and then they're not, and that's gross and bad."

Ra's had noticed even the smaller changes, though, and it pleased him. Those grins were probably what bothered Talia most. Although in some ways they were a normal, proud father's light-hearted smile, in other ways, with the context, at least, his eyes were gleaming murderously. It was the smirk of a killer, and, parent or not, pleasing a killer had its drawbacks. Mostly, the quiet yet persistence wonders of what, exactly, it said about her. Killers pleased killers when it came to those kinds of smiles, not innocent children– unless they were in the process of being slaughtered, that was.

But, today was not a day to think about that. Talia was finally getting a day off to enjoy the area they were currently visiting. It was certainly a nice, eye-catching city, but regardless, they didn't visit often. That, mixed with the increasing rarity of a completely training-less day, only made it more exciting.

Talia had left early that morning to make the most of the day. So early, in fact, that the sun was only now starting to peek up and light up the previously dark sky. A gorgeous, shimmering sunrise to begin a gorgeous, shimmering day.

First, Talia had decided that, since her undeniably rich father gave a more than recent allowance despite her hardly ever having time to use, she'd go shopping.

Her feet pranced over the sidewalks happily as she looked around at all the passing buildings. They were tall, most being skyscrapers, and her eyes widened at seeing so many store signs inside. Many choices unfolded before her eyes, all seeming nice in their own ways. She walked a couple more blocks, only to run into several more stores, all of which looked just as appealing.

Eventually, Talia did choose, though. The first store she'd waltzed into was a smaller shop, looking tiny compared to all the nearby department stores. Although Talia had considered shopping for clothes or shoes, something very stereotypically average for a teen of her age, this shop had small little souvenirs instead that looked just as appealing.

Talia ended up getting a few trinkets, but then moved on to her next store quickly to save as much time as possible. There, she finally did get some clothes. Talia indeed had enough clothes already, most of which were made custom and of the finest materials around, not to mention absolutely gorgeous in fashion, but it wasn't really about that. It was much more for simply the experience of shopping for her own clothes normally, instead of giving a request or two to a specific tailor. It may have been ungrateful of her to prefer the less expensive way, in some eyes, but it felt much more interactive when everything was right there for her gaping eyes to see.

She picked out a few dresses, first of all, but then moved on to some other clothes, like normal pants. At first, there were a few decent looking pairs, but nothing better than what Talia already had, so she almost simply moved on from that section without anything. Yet, the more she looked, the more Talia discovered more and more modern types of attire, including jeans.

Ra's, being your average immortal old man, hadn't ever considered the idea of even putting those kinds of pants in the question for Talia, especially due to their original use –manual labor, which Ra's conservatively still viewed them as for– being something Talia didn't ever really do. Although, unsurprisingly, they were not her style in the slightest and would clash with the majority of her old-fashioned wardrobe, Talia grabbed a pair out of pure curiosity.

As she went through a few more sections, Talia moved on from clothing shopping.

At this point, she'd gotten tired, as well as hungry. Her stomach growled loudly, so Talia went off to have lunch. She almost always ate lunch with Ra's, on his huge, elegantly long table, experiencing the taste of nothing less than her family's personal specialized chefs' premium food for each meal. Talia, feeling experimental, decided she wanted lunch to be as far from that, despite being able to afford quite literally anything in the area.

When Talia had chosen a fast food restaurant, out of all places, the assassin alongside her (which Ra's had unfortunately made Talia bring along) certainly raised some eyebrows.

Talia, too, had raised some eyebrows when she actually tasted the food. It was much saltier, yet overall blander and more basic than the expensive cuisine she was used to, but in some ways, there was something satisfying about the lack of healthy ingredients.

The difference, at least, was not a disappointment– Talia had possibly eaten fast food once in her life before this, if that. Her surprise was so obvious that even some other customer's gave her a look.

Nonetheless, Talia went straight back to shopping immediately after. She picked up some more small trinkets, along with a few books and even a small card game. Eventually, in mid-afternoon, Talia decided that spending her entire day shopping was quite a waste, so she did some other activities. The place was even next to a large lake, which she spent a couple hours kayaking in leisurely.

Unfortunately, her fun was quickly cut short when she checked her League of Assassins communicator. It was a walkie talkie, albeit an extremely high-tech one, so it made a sharp, rigid crackle of static as Ra's attempted to contact her. Talia instantly checked the time, only to discover it was nowhere near curfew. Her eyebrows furrowed as she picked it up.

"Father?" Talia's voice was quiet and slightly timid with confusion. She bit her lip, considering the lack of warning to such a call. It was concerning, to say the least. "Is everything alright? It's nowhere near time for me to head back yet, if I remember correctly, so what's your reason for contacting me so early?"

Ra's, on the other hand, was much louder. He exclaimed his each and every word into the microphone, seeming to get louder and louder each second. The tone was harsh and quick, emphasizing each consonant with a clicking of his tongue. He was certainly upset. Angry, even. It startled Talia as he first began to speak back to her.

"Talia, you must return home immediately. No dawdling in the slightest. I want you here, standing right in front of me, as soon as possible," He threatened. Talia's smile was immediately wide off her face, as was her entire happy manner. Her shoulders constricted. "We have a lot to talk about, and you have a lot to answer for, Miss. I hope you understand that the punishments will not be minor for your nearly traitorous behavior."

"But–" Talia swallowed down harshly, "What are you talking about? I didn't betray you! I promise! You're my family, I wouldn't ever…" Stutters riddled her words as she tried to defend herself. Her entire body language got shaky in the matters of a single second.

"Hello?" Talia called, now even more puzzled.

There wasn't a single answer.

She ran back to the vehicle as fast she could, leaping from one foot to the other and a rapid sprint. The other assassin followed behind, barely keeping up with her. When she finally got to the car, Talia neatly slid straight into her seat. Her lungs pushed in and out, panting for air after her speedy run, not to mention all the stressed thoughts running through her head that only made it harder to breathe.

Ignoring this struggle, Talia grabbed the seatbelt, throwing it over her body in the same swift, quick action as the run. The assassin took another second to get in after her, but they threw their own seatbelt on just as quickly, sensing her panicking urgency. They immediately turned the car on and began to back out.

It took half the entire drive back for Talia's breathing to turn back to normal, and that entire time, her face felt burning hot with shame.

She didn't even remember what she'd done that sparked her father to throw out the word 'traitorous', but the thought of betraying her own family made her stomach hurt. Talia nearly got carsick, sitting there, with warm cheeks and an uneasy stomach. Her throat gulped down more and more saliva in some futile attempt to keep her nerves in control, but the feeling hardly got better at all.

In fact, once they could see a little glimpse of the top of the League of Assassins headquarters in the distance, the knot in her stomach got a thousand times worse. Talia just barely resisted the urge to throw up.

Despite her initial instinctual speed, when the car truly did stop in front of that large building, Talia found herself frozen. She held her breath, letting the second of silent air give her the slightest moment of peace. Her eyes flapped shut, only to pop right back open again, this time wide with subtle terror. Her nose twitched nervously as her mind spun in chaos, attempting to sort out what she'd even done. It couldn't have been that bad, because otherwise, Talia would recognize it as such. He'd even used the word nearly, not truly, so it was fine… or perhaps not. Talia knew hardly anything.

Plunk! Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by an assassin politely opening up the door for her. But even then, a second longer of shock reigned her brain. Talia slowly scooched to the door, gently reaching a single foot out to get out of the car. Yet, she held that foot in the air for another moment before reluctantly stepping out and heading in to face Ra's.

Talia's eyes stared straight ahead, not daring to do so much as blink, as she plodded along through the entrance hallway. Each foot made no sound at all as they were carefully rolled to the floor.

A sitting room –one of many, actually– was placed as the first room after the hallway. It had a grand entrance, with an opening much larger than a door, that displayed several large, comfortable couches and seats with embroidered fabrics, all wrapping around an even bigger coffee table in the middle. Behind them, a large fireplace was glowing with a soft fire. It looked cozy, to say the least, and Talia might have even stopped there for a moment to calm down before facing her father if it wasn't for one thing.

Ra's was already sitting in the middle of the scene, with his legs crossed and his fingers folded together neatly, waiting for her.

Talia stared at her father, scanning his position up and down. He was calmer by body language than he'd sounded over the communicator, at least mostly. His back was leaned up against a pillow nonchalantly, and his legs and arms were in a quite normal, passive position. But, underneath his arms, was tucked a small array of papers. Even from the hallways, Talia could see wrinkles on the surface of them.

Her eyebrows furrowed again. Traitorous papers seemed a small matter, but at the same time, there were many things it could be.

She forced her feet to walk a couple of small, timid steps forward to get a better view, but to Talia's dismay, she still couldn't make out what those papers were about, and Ra's had not spoken a single word to her yet to clue her in. His eyelids hung relaxed, but with every step, Talia could see his chest heaving up and down a lot bit more. That calmness would not last long. She could feel it in the eerily quiet atmosphere.

"Father…" Talia whispered into that uncomfortable air, slow and uncertain. She took a few more steps into the room, still painfully sluggish in her pace. She watched carefully as Ra's' eyes opened fully, and he opened his mouth to address her.

"Talia," He whispered back in the same slow, uncomfortable tone– but not nearly as uncertain. He was confident as could be, with those little papers tucked so securely against his torso and lap. Suddenly, his voice got quicker. "Could you please hurry up and join me so we can begin with our little discussion?"

Despite her continuous hesitance, Talia was quick to nodd. She began to walk much quicker now, yet her feet still dragged across the floor with dwindling nerves. Her lower lip, as much as she tried to control it, was quivering. Ra's, still relatively calm, patted the seat next to him gently. Talia quickened even more, ending up right in that seat in a matter of a few seconds. Even then, though, she stared down at her lap.

"Now, I would say I was sorry to interrupt such a special day," Ra's stated. His voice was starting to get louder, with a growing tint of agitation lying in the mostly calm tone. "But this was more than necessary to speak about immediately, and with what this conversation is about, I don't exactly think you deserve to be rewarded for your actions, don't you think?" The agitation continued to become more and more present.

Talia gently shook her head, but then raised a single eyebrow, "Speaking of which… what, again, is this conversation about?" Her eyes looked left and right like a bouncing ball nervously. She fidgeted around with her hands, rubbing them against each other. "What are those… papers for?" Her eyes went straight back down to her lap after she spoke.

"Oh, you're not a foolish child. I'm sure you can figure it out." Ra's shrugged, but still did not lift his hands off the papers. Talia subtly leaned closer to him, attempting to see around his arms. Unfortunately, she couldn't make out any of the writing at all, simply that it was not printed, but handwritten. It did not make her eyebrows furrow any less. Ra's' eyes narrowed down on her. "Act innocent as you please, but I'm sure you've seen them before."

"Well… could you at least tell me where you got them?" Talia leaned back to her default position, giving up on the peeking. Her voice was still relatively quiet, at least back-to-back with Ra's' booming one, but it was getting slightly louder with each sentence. "Are they some kind of note spilling a secret about me, or a letter that happened to have my name as the address, or some kind of test result—?"

"Oh, Talia. You really seem to think this has much less to do with you than it does, don't you?" Ra's rolled his eyes, glancing down at the papers himself. His frown deepened, severely. "Well, you see, with how long I knew you would be gone today, I took the opportunity to take a quick check around your room. You're a teenager, after all, and adolescence can bring all kinds of dangers, both to you and the others surrounding. You're much more rebellious at this stage, often to your own downfall. It was a safety measure, and I wasn't planning on staying long. Just giving an innocent peek to your storage furniture and moving on."

Talia's eyes quickly widened, and her mouth gaped open. Her breathing, which was already so uncontrollable, managed to speed up in that mere second. She gulped as hard as her throat can handle, anticipating every one of his next words. She had things hidden in her room. With one more look at those papers, a specific one of those things immediately took her mind.

"But, unfortunately, upon looking in one of your drawers, I spotted this… writing piece of yours. At first it seems inconspicuous, but upon reading further… I see it clearly is much more than I originally suspected."

"You– You can't do that!" Suddenly, Talia's eyes stopped widening to become sharp in the corners, an abrupt tint of anger shining through. Her head stuck forward, throwing her hands, which were now fists, backwards. "I have the right to privacy! Those are my drawers to put what I want in, and you already knew I kept some very personal belongings in them. You could've at least warned me! I… I didn't expect you to…"

"As I already stated, it was for your own safety." Ra's' eyes were still more angry than hers as they glared downward. He curled his fingers backwards, pressing them against the papers to secure it down even more firmly. "Besides, it wouldn't have been a big deal at all if you were behaving as expected. You wouldn't be upset if you didn't have anything to hide, but… clearly, that was not the case."

Talia gulped again. Her eyes went back to being wide open in startle, with all her facial muscles relaxing from their anger. She wrapped her arms around herself softly, not daring to say another word, lest it trigger Ra's into even more anger than he already portrayed. Another gulp caught in her throat.

"I must say… You're quite the writer, Talia." Ra's patted the papers, making a small ruffling sound with them. His tongue clicked the roof of his mouth, making a noticeably tapping sound in the otherwise quiet environment.

"...I– I assume you read the whole thing, then?" Talia's head drooped, staring back at her lap, but she eyed Ra's from her peripheral vision. Her eyes drifted out of focus, passive in movement. "It was just a story, Father. I hope you didn't take…. Too much offense to it."

Ra's scoffed, "Oh, Daughter… you still don't get it, do you?"

Talia's head managed to lean downward even further, now not even daring to glance at Ra's from the corner of her eyes at all. Her hands had flopped down onto her lap, as well. They shook as she rested them on top of each other casually. The previous stomach ache was still very much present, tingling at every inch of her endless nerves. Gently, Talia shook her head.

Ra's scoffed again, this time even louder, "Have you ever even heard of basic family etiquette? Frankly, I'm starting to get concerned I completely failed as your parent. I thought I remembered teaching you to have some respect." He finally picked up his arms, throwing them into the air in an aggravated gesture. He picked up one of the papers and looked at it closely, reading a couple sentences. "Or at least, I was certain I taught you basic intelligence and self-awareness."

"Father, please," Talia muttered. She still didn't move her eyes a millimeter, "I didn't mean any harm."

Ra's pulled the piece of paper even closer to his eyes, "If that is of full truth, then why, exactly, would you write the story in the first place?" He shoved the piece of paper back down, looking back at Talia with the same rage-filled eyes. "Perhaps you don't understand exactly to what extent, but considering your behavior, I do believe you understand that it is not an acceptable story to be writing."

Talia's pupils went back to bouncing around the scope of her eyes, nervous and fidgety again. She wiggled her tongue, pushing around the water in her mouth to distract herself. The mild uneasy feeling in her stomach felt as if it were tripling with every one of Ra's' words, so she gently moved her hands to be around her stomach instead of on her lap, swallowing down the dull pains. She didn't even attempt to respond to Ra's in the slightest.

Suddenly, in a harsh movement, Ra's pulled all the papers up in a messy clump, "Talia, listen to me! This is not a small or insignificant matter, for several reasons that you should really be able to detect." He threw the story in her face, shoving her head back so she could see it for herself. His mouth snarled aggressively. "Just look at this! Twisting my own story so it was unrealistically happy. Happy for you, most of all, because your self-centered childish mind cannot comprehend the idea that perhaps, it was meant to be this way. Perhaps, even if it was a tragedy that Sora had to be a victim of my own ignorance, the lesson had to be taught to me one way or another!"

Talia's strong blows of breaths shot at the paper, fumbling it around in the air. Her eyes had widened from the sudden movement, leaning her neck as far back into the chair's backrest behind her as she could. The papers laid across her neck, only a few inches away, almost resembling a gentler version of a threat. Talia shuddered.

"It… it was just for my own amusement. It was just a concept. Sora just seemed like she… like she deserved better." Talia mumbled. Her father and her pressed at each other with strong, sharp eye contact. Talia's hands slowly rose in a gesture of desperate innocence. "I just wanted to utilize my imagination. I was bored, and I was only six when I wrote it, and–"

"This is such an awful story that even a six-year-old, if raised correctly, should understand better than to create it!" Ra's yelled. He pulled the papers away, though, throwing them on to the table– but only to lean closer to her himself. He screamed each word directly in her face, making Talia's breaths faster and faster by the second. "Six-year-olds are not given excuses to be downright terrible for their youth, are they?"

"I'm– I'm sorry!" Talia cried. The words were suddenly louder than her previous whispered, almost to the volume of a quiet shriek. At this point, her whole body was flat against the cushion, backing away from Ra's.

Fortunately, Ra's gradually took a couple steps away from her, "As you should be,"

He swiftly pivoted on his foot, turning away from Talia. In the same motion, he grabbed the story up from the coffee table before Talia had a second more to think of stealing it herself. He crossed his arms, crunching the papers extra in the process. Behind him, tears began to well up in the bottoms of Talia's eyes. Ever so slowly, the water seeped out and slowly began to roll down her cheeks, making their way down to her trembling pout.

A moment of silence fell over them, abruptly interrupting the loud, chaotic shouts. Ra's arms were folded behind his back, twitching slightly. Talia was twitching the whole time, as well, but in a much more uncomfortable way. Her head had returned to drooping like a sunflower. Eventually, Ra's spoke another time, this time much quieter. The sound lifted Talia up from the drooping, ever so slightly.

"You should be very disappointed in yourself, Talia."

Talia sucked in a big breath and blew it out, loud enough that even Ra's, from several feet away, could hear the gushing sounds. A few more tears dripped over, getting a bit faster. A quiet whimper cascaded from her lungs.

"I– I know," Her words were barely audible, and undeniably hesitant.

"Good," Ra's took another step forward, drifting slightly further from his daughter.

He paced around in a circle, but with a surprisingly slow pace. It was one foot at a time, no jumps, and even those steps were painfully exaggerated. The entire time, the silence had returned for, surrounding them in a mix of emptiness and fullness at the exact same time. Ra's glanced around the room as he walked. The fireplace, specifically, he eyed quite often.

As Ra's finished the circle, he found himself back facing Talia, "You understand why the story is wrong, don't you? Surely, you understand why it is invalidating and harmful to the entirety of my true, and very meaningful story, and how it's doing so. It's not exactly hard to figure out." He tapped his foot on to the floor, and then did it again, but this time as a much more firm stomp.

"Well, I…" Talia bit her lip, stuck in thought. A few tears managed to slip into her mouth as it hung open in the stutter, which she gulped down anxiously. "I… I don't completely… I kind of…. Well, I know it's naive to have written it, for sure. You referenced it as self-centered, as well. But I suppose I… I figured that could be boiled down to my young age, although obviously, it's much more than that."

Originally, after turning back, Ra's' eyes had faded back into the forced calmness that he'd shown when she'd first entered, but now, that quickly broke. Ra's' eyebrows narrowed immensely, glaring as he stared at her. His teeth gritted again, and his fists clenched with heated anger.

"I cannot believe you, Talia. You still don't understand the full scope of it?"

Talia's lips began to quiver again, almost vibrating with fear this time. She squeezed her own body as her mind quickly scrambled for the response Ra's was looking for. She glanced upwards. "No, I… I do. I just can't describe–"

"If you don't understand it, just admit it!" Ra's snapped. He leapt a few feet towards her, letting his cape fly into the air in the process. "As disappointing as it is that you don't, lying only makes it even more pitiful than it has to be… But regardless, I guess I'll have to explain it to you now, won't I?"

Talia shifted her hips, positioning her body so it faced him less. Her hair flew over her face, providing a thin layer between them. The dark strands cast clumpy shadows over the places they weren't already covered, effectively shielding Ra's from seeing her. But nonetheless, Talia's head lurched upwards in a small, timid nod.

"Fine then!" Ra's leapt another foot. His arms, already crossed tightly, pushed against each other even harder as his eyebrows tilted down at her. "First of all, you have disrespected Sora, out of all people, by treating the actions she died due to as a matter of meaningless luck! Do you wish to not learn from history? Do you wish to have your own mistakes result in someone else dying a similar, completely unnecessary death?... Most of all, do you wish I had taught you it was right?" He let out a quiet, exasperated grumble as Talia hesitated to answer.

"I— No," Talia stuttered out defensively. She leaned her head even farther from Ra's than it already was. Her feet spun around each other in a restless motion. "You're… You're interrupting it the wrong way, Father. It was… a cautionary tale, just like the real one! I only wanted to pay Sora the greatest of respects, I promise."

A distinct huff popped from Ra's mouth, "Lying to me again now, are we?" Ra's' eyebrows rose in faux amusement. He leaned right into Talia's face again, upholding an uncomfortably close eye contact. His voice had lowered in its aggression, to Talia's delight, but it didn't last long. "If it's a cautionary tale, then why didn't anything happen to the people who were –continuously, may I add– making those mistakes? They got perfect, moral-less happy endings! I'm not an idiot, Talia, for god's sake!"

Talia's feet fidgeted even faster now, but she didn't even dare open her mouth, as she already knew nothing good or sensical would come out of her messy excuses. After a moment of this, Ra's continued talking, now with a subtle smirk.

"That's what I thought. It appears you've finally chosen to quit lying. Thank you." He pulled his face back from Talia with this newly found confidence. But, regardless, his smirk quickly bounced back to a frown. "You have disrespected this whole family, and this whole league for that matter. This story shows all kinds of disloyalty to everything we stand for. Do you understand that, Talia?"

Talia solemnly nodded.

"This story, in itself, projects and encourages terrible beliefs. But, there is another thing that bothers me just as much, Talia. The original story, as I have told you many times before, is to be kept secret." Ra's' eyebrows narrowed to the point where they hardly looked open at all. His words weren't yelling, not currently, but Talia could see they were about to cross to that. "For Sora's own vengeance of killing the city, for privacy reasons… for so many more reasons, I made you promise that you would not spread the story, which already had at least one dreaded copy out there!...and you, My Dear, immediately agreed."

Talia flopped over even more, hardly holding herself up at all. She stared at the ground underneath her feet, with her eyes watery and blurry. The shame her father was urging to come out of her was pounding down on her chest. It only made her more exhausted and sick-feeling than she already was.

"Yet, apparently, since you wrote an important chunk of the story right down here, not even in the non-existent language but in a relatively commonly known one, you cannot keep a promise… can you?" Ra's whispered into her ear angrily.

For a moment, Talia continued to cry quietly. She looked back at the papers from the corner of her eye. They were terribly damaged, somehow even worse than last time she'd seen them, but they were still there. Her face was hidden from Ra's enough that he wouldn't see, so she softly smiled at the papers. From odd angles, she could even read parts of it, which only made her smile more.

"I have raised a girl of much less than honor, haven't I? Breaking promises to her very own flesh and blood?" Ra's growled, quiet yet aggressive in every definition of the word. He scoffed one more time, and stomped again, making a loud thump that echoed on the floor eerily.

Upon glancing back at her father, Talia's smiles vanished immediately, replaced with that guilt yet again. Her influx of emotions was rapid, sparking random drastic changes, as she tried to sort out her feelings on the story. In Ra's' opinion, at least, it was absolutely shameful, and she couldn't help but feel the shame. Yet, at the same time, the story was important. In the bottom of her heart, she could never truthfully tell him she regretted her decision– not on her life.

But, interrupting the consideration was a sudden realization. This realization made her expression transform to something else entirely. Pure, utter, frustration. The muscles surrounding her eyes all abruptly tensed, returning Ra's' angry glares.

"As if you've never broken a promise to me before, Father." Talia muttered bitterly, so low that Ra's heard only incoherent sounds, "So many, in fact. So many that meant so much more than this."

Ra's' eyes widened slightly, "What was that?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, losing most of his anger from the pure puzzlement of such inaudible speaking. He took a few steps around Talia, until he was standing directly in front of her, around three feet away. A much more normal position to speak to her, surely, as he waited for her to explain. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Talia quickly waved it off. The frustration had worn off in less than 20 seconds, with her sheepishness covering her expression once again. Her cheeks grew to have a dark red tint from embarrassment, and her eyes went back to being solemnly relaxed. She hung her head again, letting the shame come back a bit.

With that short, evading answer, they paused their conversation. Ra's immediately looked down at the story, which he still grasped in his hands. His eyes squinted to read the messy, wrinkly words, and his nose scrunched up with it. The movement was partially from just the fine print, but also partially from utter disgust. His frown had only grown throughout their arguments, stretching his lips uncomfortably.

Ra's grumbled at the writing, infuriated by every single word of it. His teeth rubbed against each other with a small shisking sound in pure rage. For the second time, he threw the stack onto the coffee table with a harsh throw. Talia's mouth opened wide, gasping at the sudden movement. He turned to her, still rubbing his teeth together.

"Now, of course, although it was useful for example through this discussion, it's really about time I get rid of this horrifying thing." He thought aloud, abruptly breaking their silence.

Although Ra's was currently in the midst of a strict, careless shrug, Talia's mouth opened even wider. It was obvious that he would do this. It was obvious that he would not want evidence, or broken promises, or disrespectful beliefs to continue to exist in his household, but it had all come so fast. Her tears were thickening, even as she desperately tried to hold the startle in, and, if her body wasn't already shaking, it certainly was now. Large, visible shakes.

In the heat of the moment, Talia found herself thrusting herself up from the seat and ripping every single one of those traitorous pages from her father's hands.

"What's wrong with you, Child!?" Ra's exclaimed. He instantly reached over to her clingy yet incredibly shaky hands and tugged the object back into his own. He began to march over to the fireplace, and with the bright lights of the fire reflecting and lighting up his eyes, he unlatched the fireplace's protective screening. "You should be grateful for me burning the evidence of your shameful actions!"

"I don't know…." Talia whispered weakly. She followed Ra's, much slower and gentler with her steps, and watched the glowing fire light up the backs of the papers. Suddenly, the previously cozy, innocent-looking fire appeared menacing to her peering eyes. Nonetheless, Talia quickly wiped away the tears covering her face, and held her arms behind her back.

Ra's held the papers close to the flame, grinning with guilty pleasure. The tips of them came closer and closer, only for him to be stopped, yet again.

"I'm sorry, Father, I just– I can't let you destroy it!" Talia screamed as she dove over and began to wrestle the story back out of Ra's hands. Ra's' eyes opened wide in startle, but quickly narrowed down at her again, fuming with anger. Talia didn't even notice as tears absolutely blinded for a split second. "I need that story!" She cried.

"Need? I believe you can live without a few papers, Talia!" He screamed back. His fingers grasped the papers as firmly as he could, pulling them towards his upper arms. Talia, of course, did the exact same thing back to him. Ra's groaned with anger, only pulling harder. "I said it once and I'll say it again, Talia– What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Well, I said this once and I'll now say it again, as well– I. Don't. Know!" Talia shrieked, pulling the papers further towards her. Her nose had become sniffly from crying, and her voice started to become scratchy from it, as well. Sobs were continuing to fly out of her endlessly. "I'm sorry, Father…"

Ra's finally managed to fully rip the papers away from her, flying backwards from the momentum.

"...So, so sorry."

For a second, they both stood, now several feet apart, gazing at each other in silence. Neither made another move, simply stumbling away from each other in shock as loud, frantic breathing became the only thing to be heard. Both of them were leaning over, panting towards the ground as they attempted to recover.

Ra's pushed himself back up, ceasing his puffs, "If you're really sorry, Talia, you'll let me do this." He slowly began to walk back over to the fireplace, with Talia watching from the side passively. She was still extremely shaken-up, with tears dripping down to her shoulders, but she attempted to gulp it all down as much as possible. Ra's' hands got closer and closer again, and Talia's breath seemed to get faster and faster in unison.

Yet again, Talia dove. Ra's grunted in aggravation at the sight, jumping away just in time before she managed to get hold of the papers again.

"Give them back! They're mine, not yours to eliminate!" Talia's voice had reached his peak, screeching each word as loud as she could in pure desperation. Her mind was spinning like a rollercoaster rather than exactly thinking, and thus, when her opportunity fell out of sight, she immediately got recklessly impulsive.

With nothing to grab out, Talia ended up hitting the floor instead. She still didn't truly fall, though, as she perfectly caught herself and slid on to her knees, pushing herself back up immediately as if it hadn't even happened. Her hands thrusted towards the papers again, only to, unsurprisingly, have them pulled too far away. This was the point where she really got out of control.

Talia threw a punch towards Ra's' guts as hard as she could, gritting her teeth as she did so.

Ra's blinked rapidly, in pure amazement of her violent actions. He pulled away just in time, so he hardly received any of the impact, and Talia found her arm likely felt sorer from simply shoving it that hard than his stomach felt hurt. Regardless, she threw another punch, reaching up towards the bottom of his chin to throw his head upwards, but that one was simply dodged by one of his hands. This meant the story was less well-grasped, then, though– Talia reached for it again.

"First of all, you're a fool to even attempt to physically fight someone of so much more experience." Ra's stated. His tone was loud and raged, yet not exactly to the extent of yelling, but a more quiet anger. "Second of all, you are the single worst-behaved child I've ever encountered in my life, Talia, and you're lucky I'm taking pity on you enough to hold back in my defenses. But, going along with that, I heavily suggest you quit right now and get started with your apologies, for you're going to need everything you can get after this one."

"I'm a well-trained teenager, so at least I stand more of a chance that I did at seven!" Talia protested, "Believe me, I certainly don't enjoy having to hit you, but I also just…I can't let you take away that story, okay!?" Talia pulled as hard as she could, squeezing her eyes tight in the strain of the tiring effort. Her arms felt numb from all these punches and pulls.

"It's all I have left," She added under her breath faintly.

"A particularly unintelligent teenager, perhaps," Ra's muttered snarkily. He let out several more grunts, getting louder and louder with exaggerated frustration. His eyebrows furrowed intensely, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a smile appeared. It was very much a smirk filled with intimidation, not light-hearted joy, but it still contrasted his anger noticeably. "Did I ever tell you about the last time someone, as courageous and impulsive as yourself, attempted to stop me from getting rid of their little 'story' that included my own life story, which I've made everyone I tell it to swear to never tell or create evidence of? Did I tell you about what happened to him, Talia?"

Talia's eyes flew wide open, "You– You did,"

Ra's' smirk only grew upon hearing her uncertain, fear-riddled words. He pushed his face closer to hers, getting a direct look inside her eyes as he spoke his next sentence, watching her reaction only get more and more upset by the second. Her grip shook from even the first sentence, so his next lines did no better.

"Ah, and what happened to him, Talia?" Ra's questioned. He made his voice seem ever so slightly higher in tone, posing an odd kind of innocence to what he was asking. "Surely you remember, with it being so… memorable, and all."

"You…. killed him," Talia's voice got quiet quickly as she mentally sorted out the meaning behind these sudden questions.

"I did," Ra's nodded slowly. He pulled the paper, abrupt and hard, nearly completely yanking out of Talia's grip, which was gradually getting weaker with the questions. Fortunately, Talia bent her fingers more, catching it just in time, but her grip was still weaker than it was originally. Ra's' eyebrows lowered. "Such a beloved friend and everything. It's a shame, don't get me wrong… but, at the same time, there are situations where even murder can become a pure neccesity. Isn't there, Talia?"

Talia's eyebrows immediately furrowed. Her mouth dropped open, "Is that a… Are you… Are you threatening my life?" Her voice got high-pitched at the end in another burst of disbelief.

Ra's considered the question for a moment. His eyes bounced to the side, deep in thought while simultaneously continuing to play tug-o-war with Talia. He bit his tongue, holding it there as he thought. Talia swallowed a few more rushing tears as she watched him genuinely consider the possibility, but fortunately he shook his head.

"No, perhaps not truly… not in a way I am sincere on," Ra's said. His eyebrows were now furrowed, but quickly relaxed the more he spoke, shrugging the question off altogether. "Well, not if you listen to the warning and start behaving immediately, at least. Just take your hands off the evidence if you wish to keep your full safety, Daughter!"

Suddenly, Ra's violently kicked Talia to the ground as hard as he could, immediately turning back to the raging fire. Without a moment of hesitance, he threw the whole bundle in. The fire only grew, reaching up to the top of the bricks for a second as it devoured the contents with ease. Ra's' smirk had returned as he dusted his hands off and trotted away.

Talia got up just a moment too late, looking back to see her precious writing being burned to nothing.

"Father?" Her cheek ached from the kick, feeling all rough on the skin from the way his shoes had scraped against it even harder than she had punched him. Talia's eyes darted around, searching for her father to simply speak to. Apologize, scream at, or ask pitiful questions– Talia wasn't sure. But it didn't really matter, as Talia's eyes only darted back to the fire and the small, rapidly-roasting scraps of papers that were left inside it.

Suddenly, Talia's heartbeat began to pound again, and her impulses flipped on like a light switch. She frantically reached into the burning hot fireplace, attempting to grab any pieces she could spare right out of it, only to, unsurprisingly, pull her fingers back out of instinct once they felt the fuming heat coming from it. She hung her head for what must've been the hundredth time that evening, and simply watched as her work faded away. She could still read a few of the bits that were taking longer to burn, so she whispered them in her mind.

'And they all lived happily ever after'

Talia watched, tears rolling down her face, as those beautiful words were burned to dust.

Tiny, brittle, empty dust.

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

Ending Note:

If I have any readers at all (almost no likes rn but we vibin'), I know what you're thinking-- this is the end? Really? You're just gonna make the poor girl loose all hope and then just leave it to be dreary?

Well, I have good news! This isn't the end. Maybe.

Obviously, I don't have any more chapters written, and l said "out of 6", not to mention the fact that as depressing an ending as it is, this chapter, I would say, does certainly give some kind of conclusion. Perhaps not a satisfying one, but a conclusion nonetheless. Therefore, it's not like I can't leave it here. In fact, I may.

But at the same time, I feel like writing 6 chapters to say goodbye to a good backstory before it even gets ruined out of simple expectations isn't quite enough, in the case that it truly DOES get ruined. I mean, it probably is enough, but I want to be able to spin the ruining into something good. Either way, this fic will not cease to exist, as it was made before the comic even came out. Therefore, I have decided that I shall make this fic even longer if it does get ruined, in direct spite of it.

I have two more chapter ideas I could add on to this, therefore, we'll say at most it could get two more chapters. At the end of those chapters, the ending would likely be much more hopeful. I also have ideas for ways to do a single more chapter and make the ending more hopeful as well, but in a different way, so I've decided to make it a scale. If it's an actually pretty decent issue, then no more chapters. If it's extremely bad and absolutely ruins the story, I'll do the two chapters. If it's kinda bad but could be worse, one more chapter.

I'll need time to write those chapters, though, so before then, I can let you guys know what the plan is by editing the "out of" in these posts so it says whatever the full number will eventually be. Or, you could probably also just check my blog in general, because if it's really bad, I'll be ranting about it here. If it IS decent/good though, then a simple lack of change after the next couple days should prove it. Not that you guys probably care enough to check it, but just in case, that's how you could.

Well, I guess we'll just see what happens tomorrow with the new Robin issue!

3 notes · View notes

hellofromthe-otter-slide · 4 years

Text

everything stays (but it still changes)

*Shows up to the party four months late with Starbucks* Hello, She-Ra fandom. Is anyone still here?

Alright, now that I got my joke out of the way, I can get into it. I wrote this fic based on artwork that I saw from @alexryzhy. They drew a wonderful picture about Catra and her need to be strong, and I couldn’t help myself. You can find their artwork here.

As well, I need to thank my friend @icameasahoplite for reading through this fic and telling me it isn’t shit! They’re wonderful, and an excellent writer and I love them very much.

Alright, I think that’s everything. Enjoy the fic!

Read on AO3.

Catra trails after Adora, Bow, and Glimmer, the three of them talking as they make their way through the Crystal Castle. She’s not exactly sure why they’re here or what they need, but Adora seemed so sure, and Catra refused to let her come back to this place on her own.

Adora, Bow, and Glimmer don’t seem to be affected by the dead panels and muted colors of the castle, but everything about it has Catra’s tail puffed and her hair standing on end.

As a rule, she doesn’t like this place. When Catra was still with the Horde, it represented the Rebellion and everyone who took Adora away from her, and the castle almost mocked her as it showed her snippets of her and Adora’s childhood to tear them apart. After, after Catra fought against mind control and helped the people she swore she never would, Catra almost lost Adora deep within the walls of the Crystal Castle.

She wonders for just a moment if the castle will spring back to life, every muted panel snapping to attention as Adora passes through, but even with the presence of She-Ra, the castle stays dark.

They pass by the AI that guards the entrance to the Heart, and she flickers as she says, “State your query.”

Glimmer sticks her tongue out at it, and Bow admonishes her, reaching across Adora to gently hit Glimmer’s shoulder with a stern, “We do not antagonize innocent AIs, Glimmer,” Adora hiding a laugh behind her hand.

Catra pauses for one moment, looking up at the AI, and she feels a chill run up her spine.

Her and Shadow Weaver didn’t interact with the hologram. Shadow Weaver’s magic got them as close to Adora as it possibly could, but she still feels a flood of memories at the sight of the panel that she knows leads through a long corridor to the Heart.

She shakes her head to try and expel the memories taking root as she catches up to the others, but it doesn’t work. She can’t stop the onslaught.

All she can think about is the last time she was here, watching Shadow Weaver burn, readying herself to die as Horde Prime flooded the Heart with corruption, holding Adora to her chest and begging her to stay, for once just stay.

Catra’s hand goes to the back of her neck, an old habit, and she fights against the surge of memories of green liquid and electricity and a hold on her mind that was never supposed to be there. She feels her claws sink in, not quite breaking skin but enough that it reminds her that the chip isn’t there anymore, and it hasn’t been for a long time.

Bow’s voice interrupts the memories, his hands going up around him as he mimics an explosion, some overdramatisation of his and Sea Hawk’s last Boys’ Night, and Glimmer is quick to comment that Sea Hawk is lucky that Mermista tolerates him with the amount of money Sealineas probably spends on new ships, and Catra can see her winding up to make a dirty joke before Bow launches himself across Adora to clamp a hand over Glimmer’s mouth.

Adora is knocked back, laughing as Bow’s cheeks flush so dark that Catra is convinced every drop of blood rushed to his face. She’s still laughing as she looks over her shoulder to Catra like she couldn’t imagine a moment like this without including Catra in it, but her eyebrows pull together when she realizes how far back Catra has fallen from the group.

She stops, letting Bow and Glimmer pull ahead, and tilts her head with a soft smile that Catra has loved since they were kids.

“You coming?” Adora asks, offering her hand to Catra.

Just as Catra is about to take it, the floor opens up underneath her, and Catra falls through, her claws scraping against panels as she tries to catch herself. She hears Adora shout her name, but it fades the further she falls.

She lands on her back in a pitch-black room, no beginning or end in sight, and Catra is reminded of her first time in the ruins. She wonders if the castle is even alive enough to dig into her memories and play them for her.

She knows it did for Adora, but Adora is She-Ra. She has a connection to this place and the people who built it.

Catra is just Catra. She’s no mythical warrior princess or First One, so she expects that she’ll just be trapped here until the rest of the Best Friend Squad can find her.

The darkness doesn’t seem to let up, so Catra pulls herself up and tries to see if there’s any sign of a door.

“Adora!” she calls, hoping that maybe her girlfriend already found where the castle sent her, but she didn’t get any response.

“Adora!” she tries again, and again, there’s nothing.

There’s a soft glow forming at the horizon of the room, and Catra wonders if she should go towards it.

She figures it’s her only option.

As Catra gets closer, she notices the room glitching, and she’s afraid the floor is going to open up again, but then she sees it.

Amongst the black is one of the bunkbeds from the barracks Catra and Adora grew up in. There’s something small curled up on the bottom bunk, and Catra knows who it is even before a young Adora comes in and pulls the blankets from around young Catra’s wild mane.

It’s the same memory that the Crystal Castle showed Catra the first time she was here, the same one that strengthened her resolve to stop trying to get Adora to come back and to cut the only thing keeping Adora from falling into the abyss the castle created.

Just like last time, the younger version of herself stops and stares up at Catra, and this time, Catra smiles.

“Adora will hold onto that promise,” Catra tells her younger self, “And she’ll always come back for you, no matter what.”

Little Catra doesn’t respond. She just smiles and runs off to follow Adora into the black of the room.

It must be picking up on Adora’s memories, Catra thinks, looking around for the light she seems to have lost.

There’s a crash behind her, and Catra turns, claws coming up ready for a fight, but they fall to her side when she sees what caused the noise.

There are a few crates used to hold armor and weapons, and beside them, a young Catra flopped on top of a young Adora. She can see the scratches across Adora’s cheek, and she winces when Catra gets up and jumps on Adora’s stomach.

They run past her giggling and laughing, pulling at each other and play-wrestling.

Instead of running off into the pale green corridors of the Fright Zone, they disappear into the darkness, and Catra is left on her own again.

“Why is it playing these memories?” Catra wonders aloud.

Nothing answers her.

“And why can’t I get out of here?” Catra yells, frustration starting to build.

She listens for something, anything, that will point her to an exit or Adora, Bow, and Glimmer coming to her rescue, but the room is eerily quiet.

“Why did this even happen?” Catra asks the room, knowing she isn’t going to get an answer, but it’s the only way she can think to dim the anger building, “Do you just like fucking with me?”

Catra’s starting to wish she didn’t leave Melog back at Bright Moon, because not only could she really use them to find her way out of here, she misses the calming presence Melog always seem to carry with them.

Melog would tell her to take deep breaths and find something in the room to focus on, but Catra is the only one here and the only thing making any noise.

I sure hope Melog is having fun with Scorpia and Perfuma, Catra thinks, crossing her arms and tapping her shoe against the dead panels impatiently, because this is the last time I’m going out on a mission without them.

She flops onto her back and looks up at what she assumes is the ceiling, but with the Crystal Castle, she can never be sure. Everything about this place is so outside of the realm of normal that Catra wonders if she’s actually just suspended in midair.

The memories seem to play out on the same plane she’s on, though, and whatever is underneath her feels solid enough to be a floor.

The black ceiling reminds her of the night sky in Etheria before they were pulled from Despondos, and Catra wonders if she can manifest the stars if she thinks about them hard enough.

She thinks of the first time she saw the stars their first night back on Etheria. She remembers sneaking out of their hideout and looking up, expecting the same blank sky she had looked up at for years, and instead finding a million little dots of light.

She had seen stars from Horde Prime’s ship while she watched the planets he conquered go up in flames, but seeing them like this, on her home planet after being gone for so long, it felt different.

It was that same feeling of watching Adora become She-Ra on Mara’s ship, the light engulfing her and magic making her blue eyes shine. Catra isn’t exactly sure what the feeling is, and she can’t put a name to it, but it was something like hope and awe mixed together.

Thinking of the memory doesn’t seem to manifest it, and that just strengthens Catra’s theory that the castle is projecting Adora’s memories, not hers.

Every memory she’s seen so far can be attributed to Adora’s presence within the castle, and she’s sure that the first memory was just some data remnants from her first time here.

That last memory, though, Catra isn’t sure that that one holds as much significance for Adora as it does for her.

For Catra, that memory was the tipping point. Adora’s promise that she would always be Catra’s friend gave her the push she needed to save Glimmer and keep Adora from getting captured.

She was willing to die on Horde Prime’s ship in order to keep Adora safe. She didn’t expect to be saved, and yet, Adora came back for her.

Adora risked everything for Catra.

She hears whispering, and when she turns her head, she sees her and Adora lying down a few feet away from her, Adora pointing up at nothing.

It’s a few nights after the defeat of Horde Prime. Catra remembers Adora pulling her from their comfy bed in Bright Moon with a, “It’ll be worth it, Catra. I promise.” She led Catra through the quiet, pristine corridors and out to the gardens, and when they laid down on the soft grass, Adora pulled her close and taught her the First Ones’ constellations.

Glimmer found them early the next morning, curled up and fast asleep under the dim morning glow.

Catra sits up and watches the two. Adora’s hair is up in what was her usual ponytail at the time, and she’s pointing up at a sky that Catra can’t see. The younger version of herself, her hair still so short after Horde Prime cut it, hums along, but she’s not looking up at the sky. She’s looking at Adora, a soft smile on her lips.

Adora seems to notice that Catra isn’t listening, because she stops mid-sentence and turns to see Catra watching her.

“Catra,” Adora says through a laugh, “Are you even paying attention?”

Catra knows what’s coming before her younger self even says it. The younger Catra looks at Adora, everything about her so soft, and with every emotion she convinced herself would never be reciprocated, she says, “I love you, Adora.”

It was only the second time Catra ever said it, the first time without Adora dying in her arms, and Adora’s eyes go wide, but she recovers quickly, her fingers going into Catra’s hair and pulling her into a kiss.

Catra watches herself sink into it, her hand resting on Adora’s stomach.

“I love you too, Catra,” Adora whispers, resting her forehead against Catra’s.

They fade into the darkness, and Catra stands, moving further into the room.

So far, that hasn’t gotten her anywhere, but she can’t just sit here and do nothing. She’s hoping that the Crystal Castle might take pity on her and a door will magically appear, but she just keeps walking and walking without running into anything.

“Adora!” she tries again, looking around herself, “Adora!”

Nothing.

“Sparkles!” Catra calls out, “Bow!”

Complete silence.

“This is useless,” Catra growls, “I should just face the facts. I’m trapped here forever. They’re going to find my body centuries from now in this awful place.”

“Catra.”

She turns quickly at the sound of Adora’s voice, but it’s not Adora, not really.

This Adora catches herself on the ground, the old Sword of Protection holding her up, and she’s bruised and beaten from the fight.

She looks up at Catra with sadness and regret, and Catra turns around to see herself, betrayal written so obviously across her features.

Adora fades when Catra turns to run away from the destruction of Thaymor, and Catra follows the younger version of herself.

She interacted with the Catra from the first memory, and when Adora and her were here all those years ago, they glitched between themselves and the version of themselves in the memories, so Catra chases until her younger self stops, falling to her knees and tearing into the ground.

Catra remembers every second of this. She remembers the heartbreak and sadness and anger of watching Adora leave her, the way it felt like Adora had reached into her chest and ripped her heart in half.

“She didn’t leave you,” Catra says gently, and the younger version of herself freezes, “Not really.”

Catra doesn’t expect the memory to respond, but her younger self, hair wild and eyes filled with tears, says, “I wasn’t enough to make her stay.”

“The Horde was a toxic place,” Catra responds, “It tried killing every good part of you, and eventually, it would’ve done that to Adora too.”

“She chose them over me,” younger Catra hisses, “I’m her best friend, and they’re just some princesses who kidnapped her.”

“I know it hurts,” Catra crouches down so that they’re at the same height, “It’ll hurt for a really long time, but even when you’re at your lowest, when you think you don’t deserve to be saved, Adora will choose you, and she will keep choosing you.”

Catra knows this is pointless. She knows that talking to this version of herself won’t change anything, but it feels cathartic to tell herself everything she wished someone had told her.

Perfuma would probably refer to it as Catra getting closure, and maybe she’s right, but Catra also knows there’s something deeper to it, the healthier parts of herself that she’s spent years nurturing finally finding an outlet.

This Catra, right on the precipice of every awful thing she’ll do to get back at Adora, she’s still so scared and lonely. The only important thing to her was Adora and keeping Adora safe, and when Adora left, Catra took that as Adora telling her that she wasn’t good enough, so she climbed the ranks and fought ruthlessly to prove she was.

“Shadow Weaver would’ve torn us apart eventually,” Catra says, “Adora would’ve gone on to be Hordak’s second-in-command, and even though she would insist on bringing you with her, Shadow Weaver would’ve never allowed it. We would’ve been completely broken with no way to fix ourselves. You would’ve lost her for good.”

A few tears track through short fur, and her younger self brushes them away with the heel of her hand, the action harsh and angry.

“Everything after this moment gets messy, and we do some horrible things as a way of coping, but we’ll find ourselves again,” Catra says, smiling sadly, “We’ll have a lot of apologizing to do, and a lot of broken relationships to try and fix, but we’ll get better. We’ll be better.”

With that, the memory fades, and Catra is alone again, but the growing frustration at the Crystal Castle’s antics settles just a bit.

So, Catra thinks, It has to be pulling from my memories. There’s no way Adora knew what happened when I disappeared in the smoke after Thaymor.

Catra isn’t sure how the castle is pulling her memories, though. She didn’t think the Crystal Castle would maintain that ability years after Adora broke the sword and released Light Hope from the First Ones’ programming.

Then again, Catra pulls herself up and runs her hands over her pants to smooth out any wrinkles, The programming was still strong enough that Prime could manipulate it into believing Adora was a threat.

She turns, and, like spotlights on a stage, three memories play out before her.

The first is the Battle of Bright Moon, Catra facing off against She-Ra among the cliffs and in the shallow water outside the castle. The memory captures the moment just as Catra drags her claws down She-Ra’s back.

The second is Catra and Adora is Hordak’s sanctum, Catra with her hand on the lever that opened the portal. She can’t hear Adora begging her to stop, but that memory is one of many that’s permanently seared into Catra’s brain forever.

With a chilling smile, Catra pulls the lever.

The third memory is Catra right after Double Trouble left her in the burning debris of her fight with Hordak. She looks defeated and angry, and she knows that this is only moments before Glimmer finds her.

When Glimmer pointed her staff at Catra, Catra told her to do it, to end it.

She thought she was at her strongest in that moment, but she knew, even then, all of this power and destruction was never what she wanted.

Catra walks past the first two memories and looks down at herself, her clothes singed and her hair pushing past the mask she used to wear.

“I thought I could be strong,” this version of Catra says, her voice low and defeated, “But everyone was right. I’m weak, and I always will be.”

“No,” Catra says, determined, “You are not weak. You were always strong, and you will get stronger.”

“All I ever do is mess up,” her younger self, her lowest point, doesn’t meet her eyes, “And everyone always leaves.”

“You made mistakes,” Catra admits, “And some of those mistakes led to people leaving, but it’s what was best for them and best for you.”

The tattered version of herself looks up at her in disbelief.

Catra smiles.

“You are so loved,” Catra says, and she’s unsure if she’s saying it to the memory or to herself, “And at this moment, you never learned how to be loved by anyone unconditionally, but you will. You’ll learn how to let people in and be there for them in return, and that love will make you stronger than you can ever imagine.”

The memory fades, and Catra takes a deep breath.

This entire thing, from the floor opening up beneath her to all of the memories that the Crystal Castle has shown her, has been unnerving, but Catra feels lighter than she has in a while.

Off in the distance, Catra sees a light, and she chooses not to go towards it.

If it’s Adora, Bow, and Glimmer, they’ll find her without any problem.

If it’s another memory, Catra has had enough reliving to last her a lifetime.

She turns from the light for just a moment, and the castle gives her one last memory.

It’s their first kiss, Adora glowing as she becomes She-Ra. They pull away, and Adora smiles the dopiest smile Catra has ever seen before whispering out a soft, “Wow,” through her giggles.

Catra remembers marveling at the fact that Adora could be She-Ra, powerful and strong enough to take down Horde Prime when no one else could, and still be the idiot she fell in love with.

“Don’t ruin it,” younger Catra deadpans, gently shoving at Adora’s face.

“Catra!”

When she turns around, it’s Adora, her Adora, that’s running towards her, Bow and Glimmer not far behind.

Adora pulls her into a tight hug, and Catra’s hands fist into Adora’s jacket so tight she’s sure her claws are cutting through fabric.

“I was so worried,” Adora says quickly as Bow and Glimmer join the hug, “I didn’t even know where to start looking.”

“How did you find me then?”

“Teleporting, mostly,” Glimmer answers, and Catra looks at Bow to see him rolling his eyes.

“Which was incredibly ineffective,” Bow adds on, “But nobody listened to me when I said we should find another way.”

“Well, we found her eventually,” Glimmer argues.

“Because a random door popped up and Adora heard Catra through it.”

“Okay!” Catra shoves Bow and Glimmer away from her and Adora, “As fun as it is listening to you two bicker, can we please get out of here? I’ve been trapped in a pitch-black room for too long and I want to be anywhere but here.”

Glimmer gives Catra a look that Catra definitely doesn’t like before pulling everyone closer to her and teleporting them out of the Crystal Castle.

Catra collapses onto the grass, holding in dry heaves, and she can feel Adora’s gentle hand on her back.

Glimmer is barely holding in her laughter, and Catra looks up with a glare before pouncing, taking Glimmer down easily, but Glimmer is quick to retaliate, pushing a fist full of sparkles right into Catra’s face.

“Guys,” Catra can hear Bow’s exasperation in his voice, “Can you maybe not do that?”

“She started it,” Catra argues, turning her head over her shoulder to make her point, and Glimmer uses that to push Catra off of her.

“It’s been years,” Glimmer gets up, brushing dirt and grass off of her clothes, “I don’t understand how you haven’t gotten used to teleporting.”

Catra goes to get up, and Adora offers her a hand.

She takes it, letting Adora pull her up, and Adora doesn’t let go, so Catra brushes herself off with her one free hand.

“I’ve asked for warning about a million times,” Catra hisses at Glimmer, “You’re the one who insists on doing that just to mess with me.”

“Well yeah,” Glimmer goes and grabs Bow’s hand, pulling him into the Whispering Woods, “It’s just so fun.”

Catra lets out an angry growl, and just as she pulls on Adora’s hand to follow Bow and Glimmer, Adora pulls her back, pulling her in close. The hand that isn’t holding Catra’s comes up to Catra’s cheek, and Catra rests hers on Adora’s waist.

“I’m going to murder your friends,” Catra says, but it doesn’t have any of the bite she usually says it with.

“They’re your friends too, you know.”

“Against my will and better judgement.”

Adora rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling, and her thumb starts running along the short fur of Catra’s cheek.

“You like them.”

“I like Bow,” Catra corrects, “And in my defense, Bow is impossible not to like, but I do not like Sparkles.”

“You two hang out all the time.”

“Just because I hang out with someone does not mean I like them.”

Adora levels Catra with a knowing look.

“For example,” Catra says, ignoring the look, “I’m around you all the time, and I can’t stand to be around you.”

“Catra—”

“I mean, imagine you had to be around the great and powerful She-Ra all the time,” Catra smirks, watching Adora try and hold in laughter at her antics, “Insufferable, truly.”

“You can’t fool me, Catra,” Adora says, the hand on Catra’s cheek pushing through the hair pulling out of Catra’s ponytail, “You’ve already shown your hand. I know you love me.”

Catra scoffs, but instead of pushing Adora away like she usually does, she pulls Adora in closer. “You have no proof.”

“You’ve told me,” Adora argues, “Multiple times.”

“That would never stand up in a trial.”

“We share a room.”

“We shared a room with about fifteen other kids in the Horde.”

“You traveled through space with me.”

“Because it’s space,” Catra gives her counterpoint, “You don’t need to be Entrapta to be excited about that. We met people from different planets!”

Instead of giving another argument, Adora pulls Catra in, kissing her gently and slowly like they had all the time in the world.

Catra figures they do, now that Etheria is in an era of peace and the other planets that were under Horde Prime’s control are working on rebuilding. They spent years returning the magic that the First Ones took and reversing the environmental effects of the Fright Zone’s extreme pollution. This is the first moment in their lives that nobody is demanding their attention.

In Catra’s opinion, her and Adora deserve this quiet moment all to themselves. After everything, after abuse and heartbreak and fighting on opposite sides of a war, after almost losing each other to mind control and First Ones’ poison, Catra is almost certain they deserve this moment outside the Crystal Castle and every one that follows it.

Adora pulls back from the kiss and rests her forehead against Catra’s.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Catra asks, brushing her nose against Adora’s.

Adora nods her head no. “I was a bit busy looking for you.”

“You’re going to force me to come back here, aren’t you?”

Adora breathes out a laugh, “I think I can manage on my own the next time I come.”

“I’m still going to come with,” Catra promises, “Melog is coming next time, though.”

“I’m surprised that you left them at Bright Moon this time.”

“They just looked so comfortable with Scorpia, and she loves them so much,” Catra admits, “I also didn’t think the Crystal Castle had enough leftover energy to make this mission possibly dangerous.”

“I would hardly say that this mission was dangerous,” Adora says, pulling away from Catra and starting to pull her through the Whispering Woods to Bright Moon, “It is weird that the ruins did that, though.”

“I didn’t think it would be able to without Light Hope,” Catra admits.

“The First Ones connected Light Hope to the castle, so a lot of its capabilities left with her, but the Heart still powers a lot of the technology in there,” Adora explains, “It’s not enough for the castle to run like it did before I broke the sword, but it kept a lot of its base programming and allows for the AI that guards the Heart to remain functional.”

Catra looks back over her shoulder at the castle, the once-bright stone dull and ivy growing up the sides after years of little use.

“I wonder why it chose me,” Catra says softly.

“I don’t know,” Adora stops them, turning to look at Catra while Catra looks at the ruins, “I would try and explain it, but the Crystal Castle has always had a mind of its own, even when it was fully functional.”

Catra thinks of the memories the ruins showed her, the different versions of herself that it allowed her to interact with. She would’ve assumed the castle chose her at random if the memories didn’t feel like they were directed at her, like the castle wanted Catra to confront her past and gain some closure.

Maybe it’s her connection to Adora. Maybe the castle recognized her from the last time she was there as Horde Prime overwhelmed the Heart and almost destroyed Etheria.

Maybe it really was just random, and the castle responded to her presence in the only way it knew how.

“I guess we’ll never know,” Catra says, turning back and smiling at Adora.

“Come on,” Adora says, mirroring Catra’s smile, “Let’s go home.”

“If Glimmer even thinks of teleporting back here, I’m throwing her off of Bright Moon Castle and no one can stop me.”

Adora laughs. “I think Bow might stop you.”

“Then the future king of Bright Moon will die alongside his bride,” Catra says, drama filling her voice in a way that would make Double Trouble proud.

“Still trying to off Bright Moon’s royalty, I see,” Adora jokes, “I thought you grew out of that.”

Catra smirks, “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Adora looks over her shoulder, looking for any sign of Bow and Glimmer in the shade of the trees. “I think they went on without us.”

“Thank god,” Catra breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief, “We can have a nice, peaceful walk home without Sparkles ruining it.”

Adora smiles, “I wouldn’t mind taking our time.”

Catra smiles too, and she takes a few steps ahead of Adora before offering her hand. “Well, come on then, dummy,” she says, the insult coming out affectionate, “Let’s get out of here.”

34 notes · View notes