#simply bc she’s willing to ask him what he thinks when his mother does or says certain things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shoichee · 3 years

Note

teiko manager anon back ~ my juicy part 2 will disappoint bc guess what: we're skipping two years into the future. akashi never found out what happened, and by third year the gom were the epitome of cruelty. so reader picks a fight with them after meiko game, only to collapse out of stress after. they graduate, she follows kuroko to seirin and they train to defeat gom. but why is she so insecure and easily sad when gom is mentioned? they get their answer when they catch her overworking

oh teiko anon, so so bold.... really out here stirring the pot of chaos with this part 2 huh KEK alright folks BUCKLE IN YOUR SEATBELTS IT”S TIME FOR PART 2 and part 1 is right here ! part 3 will be here ! update: part 4 is here !

Akashi x Reader

Part 2

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

remember how I said in part 1 how Akashi would find out sooner or later? this would normally be the case, but in this exception…

you came back to school pretty quickly and restored, only to be in shock when Akashi himself confronts you about where you’ve been… like hello? YOUR CRUSH?? is? talking? to you? about your wellbeing?

here’s the thing, Akashi can easily detect lies through body language because he has an extraordinary sense of kinetic vision and critical thinking, but he’s still a human, not to mention… a middle schooler, and he’s not a true mind reader as some teammates would wholeheartedly believe

still, after some easy sleuthing he easily drew out confessions from some teammates who badmouthed you, although every single one were some type of half-truths and inconsistent testimonies that didn’t really make sense in painting a big picture

instead of incorrectly assuming things, he wanted to hear what’s been going on from your own mouth (keep in mind, this is still Oreshi, the guy who’s still cordial and wants to confirm this with you out of respect)

when he asks you some questions, he doesn’t detect any physical signs of lying from you, which only makes him believe that there wasn’t anything wrong to begin with other than you being under the weather and the other teammates saying utter nonsense either out of fear in his presence or using you as a scapegoat to cover up other delinquencies that he may have yet to discover

“(l/n)-san, I take it that you’ve been resting well? I heard from Kuroko that you were absent due to the seasonal flu.”

“Ah, y-yes! I’ve actually gotten plenty of rest and proper meals, so I’m back on my feet quicker than expected.”

“I actually also wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind?”

“What is it?”

“Has anything odd happening to you lately? Anyone who has given you trouble or has been uncooperative with you as head manager as of late?”

at the question, you only frown in genuine confusion before you answer no; you genuinely believed that these teammates weren’t in the wrong for “speaking their mind” and if anything, you felt like you were the problem in not being capable enough in managing your own job and your health in the process (despite being knowledgeable in health yourself)

because Akashi saw that you weren’t lying, he dropped it completely out of respect and asked you that if there was anything troubling you that you could reach out to him

oh how he was so, so close to finding out the truth

this wouldn’t be brought up ever again because you and Akashi only continued to grow busier and busier with your own duties; eventually, your fears came true when the Generation of Miracles had in fact “left” you behind when their talents blossomed too fast and left unchecked

honestly, you developed a horrible habit of overworking despite Kuroko’s and Kise’s constant checks on you

what do you know? of course the coaches and faculty members would ignore your opposition against putting the GoMs in every game; after all some of them had been quite dismissive of you already

it’s kind of ironic because if Bokukashi was the one interrogating you back then, he would’ve either easily (correctly) assume based off of the teammates’ testimonies alone, or he’d be a lot more insistent in discerning the truth of the situation and nipping it right in the bud to stop the “nonsense”

but at the same time, Bokukashi has a lot more pressing priorities than a few poor-attitude teammates when he has the entire reputation of Tekio’s legacy on his shoulders; anything pertaining to you never crossed his mind ever since his domineering side emerged

you were really excited for Kuroko since he was gushing about playing against his old friend, since his friend couldn’t make it to finals the first time // needless to say, you were also Kuroko’s mental support when he felt really down at that time

after Kuroko sustained an injury in the game before Meiko, you immediately accompanied him to the infirmary

there, Kuroko requests you to go watch the game and you only reluctantly agree because you wanted to see the game just to relay back to Kuroko just in case if he couldn’t make it, and you were still a manager with a job to fulfill; you’d figure leaving Momoi to watch over was sufficient enough

when you walk out the door though… you bump into Akashi, which is the first time in a while where you two were face-to-face like this; your heart sank when you realize that you had to accept the fact that he’s changed and allowed the distance to grow between you two

but a small part of denial makes you quickly turn and flee out the hallway, but you really begin to evaluate your crush on him as you scurry away; Akashi just stares at you for a moment before he enters into the infirmary where Kuroko is

you’ve distanced yourself from other people (GoMs in particular) in basketball out of denial of the fact you were really left behind (plus, you already dread attending to their games because it’s always a cruel reminder that you’re not working hard enough to achieve results of the same level), which is why reality slapped you in the face after the aftermath of the Meiko game… when you witnessed the full extent of their cruelty on the court

you were really hurt—in fact, you looked more distraught than the Meiko teammates themselves

especially, since the fact that Kise himself, who you thought of him as someone you can trust in, partook in this as well (this is actually your first time in seeing his cruel side in action, since he’s always been very sweet and helpful to you because he respects you)

you first confronted Kise when he was alone for a bit, sounding absolutely heartbroken and on the verge of tears; you shocked him out of his cold side and he immediately becomes a mother hen and asking if you needed water or a seat to calm down before you overexert yourself

after telling him your feelings about the game and your growing distance in the friendship, he sincerely apologizes for making you feel in such an awful way and tells you to let him know next time before a game, so that he wouldn’t suggest this type of entertainment for the game again.

you were in complete disbelief… the fact that your best friend suggested this himself? You dumbly asked for his reason, and he only says that you wouldn’t understand it because no one ever gives the GoM a proper challenge

even though he didn’t intend anything bad when he said this, it just made you feel worse, but you still accepted the apology to get it over with

the other GoMs come and you immediately become angry again and tension just skyrockets; Midorima simply looks away and says nothing, and Murasakibara and Aomine do most of the talking back/arguing… and Akashi only impassively stares at you

later, when Kuroko himself confronts them while everyone was walking in the hallway, you completely lagged behind on the group, tearfully staring at the backs of the GoMs and how you felt really alienated and unmotivated to continue being a manager for a team you don’t even recognize anymore

you grew dizzy again, and you knew your body was dealing with too much at once but you willed your body to at least last the trip

at least you gave a warning when you assumed that you were away from the GoMs at Teiko before you went unconscious; Kise happens to catch you before he brings you to the school infirmary

he does stay with you the entire time, knowing the reason for your collapse was all the extreme emotional and mental toll accumulated in such a short time; he feels absolutely guilty, and when you were about to stir awake, he simply leaves a lighthearted note and a cutely shaped bread before he leaves, knowing that you’d be stressed again if you saw him (around this time is when Kuroko confronts Akashi to quit the team, which is why he was nowhere near you at the time of your collapse/rest)

you felt better that at least Kise still sees you as a close friend when you see what he left behind

you still feel awful, to say the least

it felt wrong of you to quit mid-season, since you felt that you were simply giving up and further perpetuating the fact that you weren’t doing the most that you could

but you didn’t feel like staying for the rest of the season, so you decided to overwork yourself again to get the rest of the paperwork and training plans out of the way for the remainder of the games; you even left detailed instructions to Momoi in how to relieve certain pressure points and muscles for instant relief in case someone hurts themselves

a little timeskip where you decided to tag along Kuroko in attending Seirin High, but you were more reluctant in joining basketball again because you didn’t want to re-experience the stress and burdens in Teiko

well, until you made friends with Riko, and her story in how she was skeptical about basketball at first too inspires you to give it a try again

Kuroko feels really happy that you’re at ease again for the first time, but he definitely notices how you grow gloomy when the Seirin teammates praise the GoMs

you slowly relapse into the habit of overworking to “compensate” for your lack of contributions to Seirin’s team, but this time, every member DROPKICKS you to stop working and relax sometimes (Riko and Hyuuga are the main culprits)

even though you never tell them the reason for your poor habits, the Seirin team members just SENSE and KNOW what to say to make you feel like you’re doing more than enough to support the team in their own unique ways (Mitobe giving really cute shoulder pats and thumbs-ups… Koganei giving you slaps on the back and high-fives… Riko bluntly telling you to relax and giving you encouraging winks… Hyuuga being a roundabout in his praises… Teppei openly praising you… and Kagami telling you that you were doing too much LOL)

Kuroko gives you the SOFTEST SMILES (everyone freaks out every time he does that, it’s hilarious)

however, wounds slowly reopen more once again every time Seirin goes against schools that the respective GoM plays for

after every win Seirin achieves against the GoM’s respective school, each GoM would eventually learn a little tidbits here and there about your tendency to overwork and collapse and possible speculations of why, but you never confirm anything with them

even though you easily forgive Kise after the Seirin vs. Kaijo match (seeing how he interacted with Kagami and Kuroko in the park), for the others… you weren’t so ready to confront…

… particularly with Akashi

#knb #knb x reader #knb headcanon #knb headcanons #teiko #knb teiko #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #kuroko tetsuya #kise ryota #kise ryouta #aomine daiki #midorima shintarou #midorima shintaro #murasakibara atsushi #teiko middle school

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vrisrezis · 3 years

Note

the matsunos reaction to knowing their s/o have a kid and meeting them?

YES PLS

Also if u want I can do hcs for these specific kids and the matsus bc god . I have ideas

Gender neutral reader

“Wait.. you have a kid?! How?!” Osomatsu asks, bewildered. How hasn’t he known about this? Why hasn’t he met the kid yet? He’s a bit disappointed at first, not that he hates kids he just.. it means there’s another parent in the equation right? So he kinda asks you about that whole thing, are they just dead? Or like were they a dick? Or? Is your kid just adopted?

However, he’s very excited to meet your kid! He wishes you told him about your little girl sooner. He’s not worried he’ll mess up at all, (he probably should be). He doesn’t even ask any questions, he just wants to meet the kid.

You were a bit worried.. and for good reason. Your daughter didn’t exactly .. like people. She was anti social. Besides.. things had been kinda difficult for the both of you upon having to take care of her on her own. She’s been waiting for you to introduce her to Osomatsu, the man you’ve been dating for months now.

Your daughter tended to be a bit judgmental, especially when it came to your relationships. D/n may only be twelve, but she has a knack for being able to sniff out unsuitable future dads/moms/parents. The thing about your daughter was.. she was Osomatsus complete opposite. She’s serious, hardworking, an over achiever type of gal. She knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. Point is, you were a little worried about how she would take you dating a literal neet.

As you walked into your house, your daughter was reading on the floor. As per usual. She looked up, he eyes widening a little to see the male next to you. Red hoodie. She stood up, walking up to osomatsu, and he smiled, taking his hand out for her to shake wordlessly, and she takes it, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Osomatsu!” “So I’ve heard. My name is d/n.” She said, her face more deadpan, in contrast to his smile. He didn’t seem to mind though, like he didn’t care, which made her raise a brow. Your past lovers tended to be intimidated by her seriousness.

Seeing how well behaved your kid was, how serious she was. He didn’t even think she was real, she’s literally the perfect child. Seeing how sweet you were being with her as well. God you were a great parent that raised such a well behaved child and he couldn’t help but sigh out of pure love..

Maybe that’s what won her over, and actually be willing to be nice and have a conversation with him.

“Wait so you’re a neet?” “Yes.” “Are you looking for a job?” “Nope.” She lets out a loud sigh as he smirks. “

They talked for a bit, and honestly? Your daughter couldn’t help but sigh at some of the things he said, only making him laugh more. You are surprised she hasn’t blown up in his face yet.. but.. is she… laughing? At a joke he made? That’s so… unlike her..

You can’t help but smile at the two.

Karamatsu is extremely surprised, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t ask about the other parent, it’s personal and he understands if you don’t wanna talk about it. Very excited about meeting the child as well honestly. Tries to keep that cool guy act and pretend he’s not overly excited but it couldn’t be more obvious, he always brings it up whenever you see eachother as well. “So.. heh.. how are s/n and d/n.. hm??” Trying to act cool about it. You simply deadpan, “do you want to meet them karamatsu?” “YES!” He then coughs suddenly, “ahem, yes..”

You wondered if he was excited because they were identical twins. Yes, you had two kids. A son and a daughter, absolute monsters. They’re teens though, so it’s to be expected. Being age fifteen was not easy! But.. you often found yourself scolding the two of them for something new.

You weren’t too nervous about him meeting them, it would certainly be an… interesting night. He seemed rather nervous though. You gave him a reassuring smile before walking in…

Only to find a mess before you, as you expected. You sigh, “d/n!! s/n!! Get down here and clean your mess!!” You yell in a tone karamatsu has never heard you yell. Such a motherly tone with strictness to it. He heard loud stomping, only to see the two rush down the stairs. They originally would just rush, and get back upstairs but the two of them stop upon seeing a man beside you.

“Who is that?” s/n cocks a brow, and before you could answer, your daughter interrupts, hitting his arm. “Ow!” “It’s the new daddy right?! Right? I’m right! Right..?” She smiled excitedly, and he couldn’t help but blush a bit. Dad..dy.. maybe one day? You couldn’t help but blush yourself, “this is my boyfriend karamatsu. Karamatsu this is s/n and d/n. Okay you two, clean up and make it quick.” You say as they both quickly nod, yelling a “nice to meet you!” Before cleaning up all the chip bags, clothes, and wires on the floor.

Karamatsu was having a trouble time acting cool in front of these teens. They were oozing with confidence, and that is intimidating. No matter HOW young they are. They are definitely your kids. They have your confidence, your talkative and mischievous personality, your teasing, everything. “Wait so what’s your job?” “Do you live by yourself?” “Do you have any siblings?”

“Kids..!” You looked at them with that stern look, and they quickly shut up. “Sorry!” S/n grins, “maybe we’re being a bit much..” he laughs sheepishly, as so does his sister. “We’re just excited!” She whines, and karamatsu only chuckles, saying that it was fine.. “I understand you have a lot of questions about dear old me..” he adjusts his shades, “I am a sextuplet.. I love with my brothers..” “woaaah!!” “Seriously?! You love them that much?”

“What about the job?” D/n pressed, and he sweats. “As for a job.. heh.. I..” he pauses. Oh god here it comes.

“I have no plans..!”

“Jeez you paused just for that?!” Your daughter says in annoyance, as your son laughs. “Hahahah! This guy is awesome!”

“Really? Awesome?” He asks, trying not to sound hopeful.

“Yeah!” They both say at the same time, smiling.

He had to stop himself from letting out a loud sigh of relief.

Choromatsu spits out his drink, gaping at you. “You have a WHAT?!” He just can’t believe it to be honest, but at least he won’t ever have to have a talk with you about having kids with you (a talk he was terrified of having) so he’s actually thankful you have children already. He was a bit nervous about meeting the two little girls, they were age 10 but they were little demons.

As you walked in the house, you yelled, “girls! I’m home!” and he saw two little girls run up to hug you “mommy/daddy!” You hugged them back, “hey girls.. you gonna say hi?” You gesture to the man behind you, and they back up from the both of you and they wave “hello!” “Hi!” The twins say at the same time. For some reason, he felt like he was in the same room as Todomatsu. Fake cuteness and kindness to it.. god you were so right, these two were gonna be absolute monsters weren’t they?

He was a lot more scared now rather than just plain nervous, however your girls were good at conversing with him despite their younger age, asking him what he likes to watch and stuff. Not really the .. adult stuff. Which he was thankful for, it’s not like they need to know he does nothing… right?

Well, that was until the younger twin said something. It’s always the youngest isn’t it?

“Oh… I… uhm… I don’t really have a job” he rubs the back of his neck, “oh! Why?” She asks, “uhm… because I.. don’t want to..?” He says honestly, and she looks to you “can I not work because I don’t feel like it?” she looks innocently, but you know her better than that, shaking your head no. “Awww!” She pouts, but smiles. “Well, that’s okay! You can just work at home or something, like .. uhm..” she thinks for a moment, the elder twin pops in “like a malewife!”

He felt his face grow red, malewife?

“Okay girls go set up the table for dinner!” You butt in, smiling.

“Okay!” They say in unison, running off, and you notice them giggling mischievously. You roll your eyes.

These two were gonna be a lot, he knew it. But instead of feeling scared, he felt happy, relieved even.

He was a part of a new family now.

Ichimatsu is surprised as well, a kid? Well it’s not like he minds it exactly, he secretly likes kids a lot.. besides this means he can technically have one of his own if he plays his cards right with you. Which hes much more determined to do. A young 12 year old boy, a 16 year old girl. He can’t wait to meet the two of them.

The younger one was… much more energetic, mischievous even. However, he will hand it to him for digging the color purple, as it was obvious from his dyed purple hair, black and purple striped skirt, (yes, your young boy was wearing a cute skirt), a stylish young boy full of confidence. Despite his smirk though, something about him had a similar aura to his own. Then there’s your daughter, complete opposite. Pink clothing to contrast her brother. With a permanent grumpy frown on her face, he assumed that was normal for her, which he wasn’t wrong about.

As he conversed with them for a bit, it seemed like he had a lot in common with the little boy. “Hehe~ I love cats! Big sis likes em too.. she likes to act all tough and like she doesn’t tho!” He said in a teasing tone as for once looks up from her phone and stops texting. “Not true!” She blushes a bit, and he laughs.

He can’t help but smile himself, making your son smirk with a bit of pride at making your intimidating boyfriend smile. He’s definitely been trying to show a good impression this whole time. Unlike your daughter who doesn’t care either way, she’s definitely like Ichimatsu in many ways.

Though by the end of the day, when he didn’t try conversing with her as much as your son she started putting in effort.

“I didn’t take you for an anime nerd.” Ichimatsu admits, “maybe you should meet my brother.” He says, referring to Choromatsu in particular. “Oh shit you have a brother?” “Yeah. Your mother/father didn’t tell you? I have like five brothers.” “Holy shit that’s horrible” your sister looks in disgust, as her younger brother just laughs at her dramatics.

Your daughter showed much more of her true personality upon the shock of him being a sextuplet, and he ended up chuckling at her ridiculousness.

He already loved the hell outta your kids.

“Cool! When do I get to meet them?!” Jyushimatsu asks rather excitedly, and it’s hard for you to be too surprised by that kinda reaction. Of course he didn’t care you had kids.. three, to be exact. Triplets, all three girls. Yeah.. all three. Originally, you had two girls and one boy, but things have changed, and that was just fine by you, who was once your eldest child and only son, was now your eldest daughter.

Jyushimatsu was eager to meet all three, they’re all 16 years old. The eldest, was the “chill” one of the three. She often likes to just relax and can be seen as overly patient and calm. The second, often with a bored or deadpan look, she reminded Jyushimatsu of Ichimatsu. And the third, who honestly was a spoiled brat, she was grumpy at times and she always got what she wanted.

He ended up talking to the girls a lot, talking about being a sextuplet, being a neet, and of course baseball. Your eldest listened, “oh that’s cool! I love baseball!” She went to get a picture showing him pictures she’s taken with famous baseball players, as the youngest rolls her eyes. The second eldest was as quiet as ever as your boyfriend and your eldest conversed about their similar interests, the youngest complaining, Jyushimatsu laughing it off.

He had lots in common with the youngest too, and was able to eventually gain her approval. He eventually talked with the second daughter about things, which was also nice. She seemed to like him. Your second eldest tended to be the shyer nervous type despite the cold exterior that she puts on, so she really liked such a friendly dude.

He seemed to really like them. And he was really good with them. You couldn’t help but think how sweet he was being, he’s always sweet but it’s different. He’s being different with them. It’s nice.. it’s good. He would be such a good dad.

You smile at the thought.

Todomatsu is certainly surprised that you have children. He’s curious to learn more about them too. “So when do I get to meet em!” He’ll excitedly ask, “whenever you wanna totty” you smile, “though, I must admit.. they can be a bit much sometimes” you rub the back of your neck and he gives you a deadpan look. “Have you met my brothers?”

Good point.

And that’s why he’s here now, talking to the three of your kids. Three identical twins!

Technically your son is the eldest, he’s a grumpy guy though. Always yelling or cursing at something, you think to yourself that maybe it’ll go away, he’s only 16. The other twin, your daughter, is much more outgoing and hyper, his complete opposite. And finally your youngest child. They were more of the silent, mysterious type, even shy.

The eldest was nonchalant with him and honestly you could tell your boyfriend was a bit nervous with him. You smack your son at the back of his head whenever he gave a backhanded comment. He didn’t like your boyfriend at first, but he kinda gave in. Only reason was when he noticed how he looked at you when you were helping your youngest with something, it was like that stupid I’m in love with my s/o look.

He got along with the second the most, she’s easy to get along with given her friendly personality. Besides, she is always in on the newest internet drama, she was bound to get along with him the most. She adores him. And of course, the youngest. The youngest got along with him quickly, actually thinking he was pretty cool. They liked his style, his being more pastel and pink, a huge contrast to their emo style. They weren’t as kept with drama but they definitely were in on clothing trends which they both conversed about. They warmed up to him and got out of their shell, even calling him totty by the end of the night along with your daughter, your son refusing to do that.

Seeing how each one of your kids interacted with totty, it was obvious they all liked him.

He was gonna fit in great with this family.

#choromatsu x reader #ichimatsu x reader #jyushimatsu x reader #karamatsu x reader #osomatsu x reader #todomatsu x reader #osomatsu san x reader #osomatsusan x reader

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

Text

[OM!] Mother!MC with Demon Brothers + Luke Headcanons

Scenario: Instead of a younger human, the Devildom welcomes a mother (with a 3-year old son in tow) into the exchange program.

intro + headcanons about how the brothers would interact with her

no romance… just uwu

bonus how the brothers would treat the son (why son? Perhaps because I too want a son)

Female reader!! (MC is referred to as she in this post)

bonus character: Luke :3c

I JUST WANT THEM TO FEEL LOVED OK

Lucifer wasn’t prone to believe in fate-- and the beginnings of the exchange program was just another reason why he did not. He let the breeze-- the wind pick a human applicant for him; and if he had gone through every application (though he wasn't completely sure he'd be sane by the end of it all) maybe this situation wouldn't have happened.

"What do you mean you can't be one of our exchange students?" Diavolo inquired, more curious than anything, an amused smile gracing his lips.

"I have a son," she said hesitantly. And there he was, peering around at the assembly room in his mother's arms that were wrapped protectively around him.

A mother and her human child, Lucifer thought blearily. One could only imagine what would happen if both of them remained here. (Which is why he never cut corners in anything he ever did ever because the one time he does, things go to shit. Damn Diavolo for enabling him.)

Lucifer

disgruntled by the adjustments made to accommodate a human child and his mother; mf will he ever rest

probably has to worry about babysitting duties delegated to his brothers

however, pleasantly surprised by MC's calm demeanor and reliable personality; finally another competent person in the house he doesn't have to really pick up after

...actually adores her and her son

accidentally does things to please her without really realizing it and hates the slight disappointment or worry he sees when he goes through sleepless nights or lashes out from anger

doesn't remember the last time he's been chastised, but he's as embarrassed as he can be when she fusses over him

the hell coffee she makes for him every morning and the snacks she brings during his breaks makes him lowkey wanna cry-- he doesn’t know how to deal with a selfless, unconditional love

is used to being a single parent ngl so taking care of her son is kinda… easy especially if the son is compliant

finds himself pressing a kiss to his forehead absently and catches himself only after he's done it (bonus points if Barbatos takes a pic of it and sends it into their trio gc)

“Barbatos, please delete this picture.”

“Oh, are you sure about that?”

“................”

ah he's attached, and so are his brothers, which kind of perturbed him a little but he’s kind of in the same boat after a short week or so

(if there was one brother who had a chance of harboring feelings for a mother mc, it’d be Luciiiiiiii uwuwuwuuwuuw; what can I say? He can’t resist the milf)

eventually, he opens up to her about the war-- because if there was any human he’d trust with his secrets, it would be MC

Mammon

he's crying

he doesn't think anyone has ever talked or held him as gently as MC

similar to the game, absolutely adores her and can't even lie about it

ok jk he's still a tsundere, but blushes every time MC looks at him with a knowing look because he can't lie convincingly enough that no, the head pats dont feel nice and no, he's just eating the lunch she made because it'll be a waste otherwise, ok?!

Her son definitely thinks he’s related to Mammon

Definitely the first one to accidentally call her “mom”

But hey don’t blame him-- he’s weak to how MC looks at him endearingly as she brushes hair out of his face motherly, like he can do no wrong

Nothing can compare to how Mammon feels when MC tells him she’s proud of him

feels legit guilty when she calls him out on his habits of stealing things to the point he remembers her voice when he tries to do it again-- basically his conscience ngl

she's like a cold hand to his feverish forehead, a cooling balm to the burn on his hand

when she defends him from his brother's insults, swears he'll protect her and her son

on that note, adores her son too and her son adores mammon!

surprisingly (or not) good with kids and treats them well; plays with them, very lively and dynamic

takes babysitting pretty seriously-- makes him consider the fact that he might actually want to be a father in the future if possible

not that he doesn’t have reckless endeavors with her son... they just end up okay so no one is none the wiser until it shows up on someone’s devilgram or spoken about through Barbatos/Diavolo

Leviathan

Honestly doesn’t know how to to react

A little miffed tbh that he finds it so easy to talk to her about…. Everything???

When he enlisted her (and her son) to get his money back from Mammon, did he expect to rant to her about all his animes and gush about his figurines to her because that was one of the first time someone’s allowed him to indulge in his hobbies and listen patiently?

No, and now he’s crying

And the fact she gently addresses his self-deprecating comments and urges him to see how she sees him (smart, witty, forgiving)---

Will probably do anything for MC and anything she says at this point; the pact is just a formality LOL

Listens to her and genuinely thinks the things she does for him is in his best interest

Had a hard time knowing how to deal with her son for a while, simply because he doesn’t know what he could do to actually entertain the child

Then finds out he could literally put up TSL or any of his favorite animes and the kid will watch it-- and ABSORB

Levi might as well be the kid’s best friend at this point-- dubbs him ‘Henry’-- which is really the greatest compliment MC thinks her son can get from him

Honestly volunteers to babysit him and proceeds to spoil him rotten

Satan

Slightly annoyed at how motherly she is at the beginning-- he takes her care and actions as if she treats him like a child

Finds it frightening how soothed he feels when he’s around her

There’s something about an older, calming presence that saps the anger from him and makes him feel like he can be himself around MC

Surprisingly the second person to accidentally call MC by “mom” probably an hour after he makes fun of Mammon for doing it (lol karma)

isn't one to seek out her attention like with levi, mammon, or asmo but is pleased whenever he does have time to spend with her because she always seems to have insight on everything and a strange wisdom that all mothers apparently do

has a lot of late night talks with her about her life, her career, what it's like having a child

often finds himself asking her for advice, and even if she doesn't have the answer, he always comes out of it thoughtful and clear minded

always willing to take care of her son; delights in reading him his favorite books and enacting the exciting scenes

always treats him like an adult to the point that their conversations are really funny to listen to

"So would you say the author's intent of the blue door was to convey the agony of grief?"

"I like the color blue."

"As did the protagonist; hm, you bring up a good point."

the son is Satan's partner in crime against Lucifer

"It's better if we do this, isn't that right?"

"Yeah!" MC’s child says, happily chewing on his favorite snack that Satan always gives to him and honestly not caring about the conversation at hand at all

"See? He agrees with me!”

And Lucifer just sighs bc he always loses in these arguments and Satan is unbearably smug

Asmodeus

similar to Satan, finds her presence in Devildom to be very pleasant and calming

she never seems to be disapproving of his past times, and Asmo is endeared by the way she never fails to say "stay safe" or "have fun!" or even "do you want me to leave the front lights for when you come back?"

the little motherly ways in which she shows she cares makes Asmo adore her

loves taking her shopping; always has a good time just gossiping, trying new clothes, or having a girls night out with self careeeee

when her son tags along, loves to have him dress up too or try on make up and it's too adorable NOT to post on devilgram

pretty sure MC's son has trended on devilgram before-- but that was the first and last time because Lucifer yelled at him for advertising the fact there was a human child in Devildom

which Asmo thinks is silly because he's pretty sure the caption under the selfie of the three of them ("So adorbs! I've only had MC's son for a day, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in Devildom and then myself. Teehee!") would have deterred any demon from laying a finger on him

When Asmo has him for babysitting duties, always loves to bathe him and play with bubbles, morphing his hair into an afro or an equally fashionable hairdo

actually very attentive to the child!!

Beelzebub

Not much changes from how Beel treats MC, but does view her actions in a more motherly manner

I think one thing that would change is that-- considering MC is a mother of her own child, is actually very protective of the brothers and sensitive to their changes in moods

When Lucifer gets angry at Beel and Luke, MC is furious and furiously protective, not yielding one bit or hesitating to put herself in front of them because of her instincts-- Beel has never admired her more

Physical strength has always something he can easily understand, but it is the strength of wills and of bravery that surprises him every time

After Mammon and Satan accidentally calls you “mom” Beelzebub has no qualms with calling you by mom either-- I mean, what’s the shame in that? Everyone already thinks of you as their mother-figure anyways

MC helps him deal with the loss of his sister

With MC’s child… You know that one meme with the two ways dad deals with kids: one is softly kissing his child on the forehead as he sleeps and the other is carrying his kid by the leg with one arm

Both of them is Beel

carries the kid around in the weirdest ways sometimes, including on his head, in one hand like he's holding a trophy, upside down (dw the kid thinks it's funny)

main transport is on his shoulders though; thinks it's kinda cute how the kid puts his arms around his head

wouldn't love anything more but to nap with him, but Beel is afraid of hurting him when he sleeps

Is the softest with MC’s son--- he’s not used to being the older brother, so he takes this responsibility kind of seriously

Always makes sure the food that MC’s son eats is appropriate so he tastes/tries it first… and sometimes ends up eating all of it, but he always manages to succeed in feeding the kid so it’s all good

Belphegor

Wants to hate MC so badly the first time they meet when he’s in the attic

He’s supposed to HATE humans, damn it-- why the hell is MC trying to be so motherly and understanding, huh?? How dare she make him guilty after he lied to her like wlkjaflksjfkjasdlfj

Out of all of them, seeks MC the least; whether it’s from guilt or the fact that her presence reminds him of the things and resentment he used to hold against her

Takes a little more cajoling from MC to talk to her and explain how he’s feeling so they can move past it

He’d rather die than let anyone else know that he teared up when they talked about Lilith and how he felt about everything; urges Belphie to talk to Lucifer and seek reconciliation with him individually (because it may be a family problem, but the feud was between the two of them, don’t you think?)

Finally gets the redemption arc he deserves and feels a lot lighter knowing that everything that has happened is now in the open and he’s ready to start healing

In avoiding MC after the whole debacle, Belphie ends up spending more time with her son because he thinks Belphie is fascinating and Belphie has no clue why

Similarly to Satan, treats the kid like he would anyone else but does find it amusing if the kid chases after his tail like a cat

Always ends up napping with him whenever MC’s son takes a nap-- after all, what’s easier than looking after a kid if you’re BOTH asleep?

Keeps an eye on him by putting a hand on his torso as they nap together

Uses MC’s son as an excuse to not do something, especially when Lucifer tells him to do something he doesn’t like to do

Honestly the son is a part of his arsenal-- he knows how weak everyone is for this kid (and so is he tbh but more lowkey) so cute pics of him is like… currency (Mammon WISHES he thought of this first)

Bonus:

Luke

MC practically adopts him the moment she lays eyes on him-- how could she not? Luke may as well be her other son

Luke can’t say no, especially after she saves him from Lucifer

Definitely calls her mom by accident and the brothers tease him-- only for him to retort back that “don’t you ALL call her by mom?” and they shut up lol

Simeon still gets to tease Luke though heheh

Really really really tries hard not to refer to MC as mom, but it slips out sometimes and no one even bats an eye

Baking together is such a family bonding moment

Treats MC’s son most like his younger brother almost automatically and makes sure he doesn’t get into any trouble while he’s taking care of him (though he does anyways)

Kind of likes the responsibility of babysitting MC’s son; makes him feel trusted

(MC takes the cutest pics of them together when they fall asleep; starts thinking about maybe having another child wouldn’t be so bad)

#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me luke #shall we date? obey me!

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amelia · 3 years

Note

related to that last ask but now i actually have a question! what are your favourite episodes for amy as a character? (sorry if i’m pestering you btw you don’t have to answer right away ❣️)

it is absolutely never a bother for me to talk about amy pond!! gosh though this is a Question. okay. i did interpret this as episodes that are my favorite for the lens of My Understanding Of Amy instead of favorite pond era episodes as a whole if that makes sense? under the cut bc i got long as i tend to do

i think my number 1 has to be the big bang, because it really is just like. okay, pond era absolutely runs into the problem of frequently making stories/episodes that should be centered around amy's emotional journey actually about somebody else — but the big bang is all hers. it is all on her! she's leading the show SHE'S the one in the pandorica SHE'S the one who remembers the doctor into existence it is HER choice to say goodbye to leadworth and continue to travel completely without remorse SHE IS THE HERO. it goes from "time can be rewritten, he'll find a way" to AMY being the one who finds the way. rory and river and the doctor all of course get their Moments but it's unquestionably amy's spotlight moment the whole way through

i have also ALWAYSSS been obsessed with starless universe amelia and the way that she still believes in stars in a world where they DON'T EXIST the power of her mind and the conviction of her beliefs is a CORE TENET of amy's character, the doctor has NOTHING to do with it!!! it's just who she is !!! best character of all time <3

other things about the amy's writing in this episode i love: the line "the universe pouring into her dreams every night," space florida outfit <3, ok i obviously do not love this but i think so much about amy talking about the doctor at her wedding and her mother is still like "NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN… i thought the psychiatrists FIXED her" like once again !!! a UNIVERSAL CONSTANT that amy is the one who believes in things nobody else does and is LOUD about it and is RIGHT !!! (let's kill hitler tried to retcon this but it simply won't work on me ❤️ just like anything else about the let's kill hitler flashbacks ❤️❤️❤️), OKAY DOCTOR DID I SURPRISE YOU THIS TIME? <3

number 2, i think, is the eleventh hour itself? like it's just… i've rewatched it so many times and it's still the most captivating character introduction i have ever seen. i know i'm biased but i love it so much. her introduction as a clearly neglected seven year old girl (constantly think about the deleted line that has her talking to aunt sharon and saying "you're not supposed to leave me, i'm seven!" WOOF) who's not afraid of anything except for the crack in her wall… she has drawings up all over her house of burning houses, she draws smiley faces into her apples bc her mom used to do that, she can cook for herself way better than i could at seven, and she desperately just wants to leave. but when the doctor tells her he'll be back in five minutes, amy is already so used to adults leaving her and breaking their promises that she doesn't believe him. but he makes her believe anyway. and he doesn't come back.

and all of the rest of her character hinges on that introduction — of course she has to believe him, he was REAL, nobody can take his realness away from her even if she is the only one who believes. but he also left her all alone for so long, just like everyone else who was supposed to be there for her did, so what good does that to her? so yeah of course she grows up angry and bitter and hiding those layers of hurt deeply under the surface, scorning all attachment and serious relationships because she knows she can't trust them. she outwardly distances herself from her childhood self by changing her name but she IS still just such a child inside.

she's not ready to settle, to grow up, to become what everyone in her tiny village wants her to be, thinks that she should be — so when she gets the chance to GO, of course she takes it. but she's also not just going to let the doctor off the hook for [gestures] her entire life, you know? the exchanges "people always say that" "i'm not people, do i even look like people?" | "people always have a reason" "do i look like people?" "Yes." always just GUT ME. she may trust him but it's NOT a blind trust, it can't be.

number 3 has to be the beast below it just makes me SCREAM how good that episode is at really developing amy through her compassion for other people — right from the start she sees that kid crying and she thinks the doctor must ignore stuff like this all the time, and she says that she could never do that. she's learning and intuiting leaps and bounds about the doctor with everything he says to her — which is another one of my favorite amy character traits, the way she is SO quick to pick up on things about other people and analyze them. everything that she picks up about the doctor allows her to KNOW what to do to save the star whale, allows her to be confident in the fact that the star whale wanted to help the whole time. the choice is IN HER HANDS she IS THE HERO <3 as she always should be. you couldn't just stand there and watch people cry! all that pain and misery and loneliness and it MADE IT KIND. i don't care how overused that quote is it still HITS !!!

um. number 4 is the girl who waited but my very specific headcanon-ridden interpretation and cutting out all that garbage "rory's the most beautiful man i've ever met" "defying destiny causality the nexus of time itself for a boy" bullshit. idk there's so many terrible things about this episode but it also gave me so much to think about when it comes to amy it's on my mind a LOT. one thing i think about is the way it parallels amy's first abandonment by the doctor — not just in the obvious sense but in the way that she's actively fighting for her life in a hostile atmosphere, but nobody else SEES it as a hostile atmosphere. the two streams facility is leadworth like it really is. and what adds a more chilling component is the way the handbots signature line is "do not be alarmed, this is a kindness" — like all the people who were trying to convince amy she was crazy throughout her entire childhood really thought they were doing her a kindness. they thought they were helping her. but they were killing her. because she wasn't made for that environment.

beyond that i am just obsessed with 36-years-later amy she is an icon she is a legend she is the moment i don't care! every mean thing she said about the doctor and rory was absolutely deserved and in fact she should have been so much meaner! she is SO SMART she makes her own SONIC PROBES OUT OF CAMERA PHONES the fact that she even was able to SURVIVE THAT LONG and in COMPLETE isolation and still retain her own mental faculties is just insane to me it speaks so much about her insane mental strength oh my god it makes me sooo emotional i am tearing up a little typing this right now.

i just am always THINKING about the line "there he is, the voice of god. number one lesson: survive, because no one's coming for you. you taught me that" it says SO MUCH about her. oh my god older amy didn't want to die she'll be kicking and screaming and fighting til the end… i fucking hate this show and picking and choosing when paradoxes should apply OLDER AMY DESERVED TO LIVE

number 5 is probably the power of three but my own very headcanon infused interpretation of it. because it's like. the ultimate miscommunication/misunderstanding that exists between amy and the doctor coming to a head. where amy in 7.02 is like "i can't not wait for you, even now. (…) we think you're weaning us off you" (that line always makes me slow exhale … the phrasing of the doctor as a drug) and the doctor keeps insisting that's not true, "you'll be there until the end of me" "or vice versa" (and they have that loaded held stare and you know they're both thinking about what he said to her before he left in the god complex…)

but it's not until this episode where amy starts to actually believe he means it. at the same time she's spent so much TIME preparing for the inevitable moment where the doctor says goodbye and doesn't say hello ever again that she's not willing to fully hope that the doctor really means it when he says that he would never leave her permanently on purpose. and i love that this episode gives amy a lot of space to verbally communicate her emotions because the later pond episodes SORELY LACK THAT. and amy tells him, don't be nice to me, don't stop coming around just because you think that's the kind thing to do. even though she says herself that she doesn't know if she can have "both" — she knows that she can tell the doctor to stay, in her own way, and that he'll listen.

ideally they would have just gone off traveling together forever after that and the angels take manhattan did not happen but unlike what the doctor says about amy, i don't ever get what i want 🙃

also, this episode gave amy friends that weren't rory or the doctor or river so i love it for that on principal <3 i know amy had fun being the bridesmaid at laura's lesbian wedding. and kate!!

( i do hate that this episode ends with that conversation between brian and the doctor. i hate brian as a character and i will forever. won't get into this right now but OUGH )

honestly this list is kind of wobbly and might change if you asked me in a month so i'll just rattle off other favorite episodes / moments real quickly: the good night minisode (it counts!), RIVER SONG DIDN'T GET IT ALL FROM YOU SWEETIE (timeline frozen amy my beloved!), "i remember it so it happened so i did it," vincent and the doctor specifically when vincent tells amy that he hears the song of her sadness…. ow, i could write a whole other essay about amy's choice and how it is so much more complex than people give it credit for but this post is already so goddamn long

#i literally do apologize for how long this got but you have to understand i was holding myself back .#she is…. everything. to me. i could keep going for so long #amy pond #ask #jonismitchell

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choerrypuffs · 4 years

Text

enchanted.

pairing: prince!jungwoo x witch!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 9.4k

synopsis: the prince has always been a little unconventional, but no one ever expected him to fall in love with a witch.

author’s note: no one asked for this but it came to me in a fever dream and you can really tell bc my writing abilities match that (p.s. i am not knowledgeable on actual witches and witchcraft, and this is not meant to offend anyone! i just winged it and created my own version of a witch for this fic)

It’s way too early for this kind of tomfoolery.

You have your head buried under your pillow, trying to block out the extremely loud and quite irritating rapping on your door. Whoever’s knocking is using so much force that your humble little cottage is trembling with every strike. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and praying that they’ll go away soon. Or at least come back at a more decent time.

It’s so early that the sun has barely peeked over the horizon, and the birds haven’t even begun chirping yet. You were up all night making potions to sell to the apothecary, so you’ve only gotten about three hours of sleep.

After letting them knock for a couple minutes longer, you realize that they’re not going to leave any time soon. You feel your temper boil over as you throw the covers off your body. Draping your shawl over your shoulders, you tie your unruly hair back and smooth out your nightgown before stomping over to the door and flinging it open.

“What do you want?” you snap loudly, crossing your arms across your chest.

The man in front of you blinks in surprise, fist still raised to knock again. He’s dashingly handsome, even in his state of shock. His hair looks like spun gold, managing to reflect beautifully even with the lack of sunlight. He has a snow white complexion with full, cherry-red lips.

You can tell by his attire that he’s royalty, or rather, a prince. The Prince. He’s wearing a black blazer embellished with golden brass buttons and detailed embroidery. There are two epaulettes on his shoulders, signifying his high status. He’s wearing a white cloak over it all, and you know from a simple glance that it’s made out of the finest linens in the kingdom.

“Are you the Witch of the Forest?” he finally asks, smiling jovially.

“You need not ask. Unless you’re aware of someone else who lives in the forest,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

He isn’t fazed by your sarcastic remark. “My apologies, my lady. I just wanted to make sure.”

“You should know best of all, Your Highness. Your father was the one who banished me here,” you smirk, tilting your head.

One of the guards standing behind him grips the hilt of his sword. “Why, you insolent—”

“Stand down,” The Prince orders, holding out an arm. The guard does as he’s told, albeit reluctantly.

“So, what brings you here at this godforsaken hour, Your Highness?” you ask, unbothered.

“Please, call me Jungwoo.”

“I’d rather not have my tongue cut off by your mutts,” you snort, nodding toward the guards.

“I insist,” Jungwoo says, shaking his head. “And what is your name?”

“You may call me Y/N,” you begin, eyeing the guards and grinning when you see the pure rage in their eyes. “Jungwoo.”

He’s oblivious to the contention, instead beaming happily. You can’t help but smile at his naiveté. Crossing your arms, you lean against the doorframe. “What can I help you with, Jungwoo?”

His expression turns solemn, and he reaches down to grip your hands between his. “Please help me, Y/N. My mother, the Queen, is severely ill.”

You’re taken aback by his casual touch. You’re so used to people treating you like you’re evil incarnate. Doing your best to control your expression, you clear your throat and try to continue looking elusive.

“You have my condolences, but I don’t see what that has to do with me,” you say, shrugging.

“How dare you!” The annoying guard pipes up again. “She is your queen!”

“No, she is your queen. I am not a subject of your kingdom,” you correct. “Therefore, I have no obligation to help you.”

Jungwoo releases your hands and steps back before lowering himself to his knees in front of you. Both you and the guards stare in stunned silence.

“Please. I am begging you,” he whispers with his head bowed, voice cracking. “I understand that you hate my father. I would too. But please, my mother is innocent in all of this.”

“Your Highness! Please get up immediately!” The guards say in a frenzy, all talking over each other.

He ignores the chaos and continues to stare determinedly at you. There’s something about his unrelenting gaze that makes you feel vulnerable. When was the last time someone looked you directly in the eyes like this? It scares you because it’s been so long, and you feel like he can see right through you.

You break eye contact first, turning away sharply. You grab him by the shoulders and pull him to his feet. Jungwoo also looks surprised when you touch him, but he doesn’t seem repulsed like you expect him to be. In fact, he looks a little crestfallen when your hands fall back to your sides.

“Have some dignity,” you chide, “how can a prince kneel before a witch?”

“I am willing to go to any length to save my mother,” he says without hesitation.

You sigh. After all these years and everything you’ve been through, you still can’t seem to harden your heart to situations like these. You can already hear your fellow witches taunting you in your head. They would never let you hear the end of it if they found out you were going to save the life of the wife of the man who exiled you.

Jungwoo picks up on your hesitancy, grasping your hand again. “Please.”

The desperation and panic in his voice shatters the remainder of fight you have left in you.

“Alright,” you finally relent, “I will help you.”

Now it’s his turn to be shocked. “R-Really?”

“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for handsome men,” you say, patting his cheek. “Stop looking so surprised. Aren’t you the one who be—”

You can barely contain your surprised yelp when Jungwoo wraps his arms around your waist and twirls you around in a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaims as he sets you back down.

You’re so frazzled that all you can do is nod. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. You thought you were going to fluster him by calling him handsome and touching his face, but he somehow managed to fluster you instead.

“We’ll give you some time to get changed and prepare what you need,” Jungwoo continues, completely unaware. “My carriage is right over there, so you will know where to go when you’re done.”

You stupidly nod again, stiffly shutting your door. Your face feels like it’ll set on fire at any moment. Just how deprived of touch are you for your body to react like this over a simple hug?

Pull yourself together, you tell yourself, don’t forget who he is.

The carriage ride is horrendously suffocating. The Annoying Guard, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, insists on riding with the two of you to ensure Jungwoo’s safety—in case you decide to hex him or something. The guard keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword the entire time, glaring daggers at you. Every time you even slightly shift, he jumps.

You’re starting to think that these palace guards are severely overestimating your powers—actually, they aren’t. They’re severely overestimating your ability to care enough to even go through the trouble of hexing Jungwoo.

Jungwoo keeps shooting you apologetic glances, attempting in vain to try and make conversation. The long stretches of silence are deafening, and all you can do is stare out of the window. Your mind keeps wandering to things you don’t want to think about, so you begin to map out all the chores you have to do when you return to your cottage.

You can feel Jungwoo’s stare on you the entire time. He clearly wants to talk to you, but he can’t because of the hawk-like watch of the Annoying Guard. You suppose you’re grateful for that. You’re not really sure if you want to converse with Jungwoo. He’s far too unpredictable for your comfort. You can’t read him like the others, and that intimidates you. He isn’t afraid of you, and it makes you feel...exposed.

Fortunately, you can see the palace from the window, which means this hell of a ride is finally over.

Unfortunately, when you step out of the carriage, the memories that you’ve spent your entire life trying to bury flood through your mind.

The last time you were at the palace was when the decree of your banishment was announced. You remember the palace guards dragging you and your mother out as she pleaded for mercy. She had asked the king to spare you. Of course, he merely scoffed at her and turned away without a second glance. To him, you two were just some of the many witches that he would go on to banish or simply just execute. He was lucky that the witches were a peaceful kind.

You watched as your mother pretended like everything was alright, like she was alright, as the two of you lived in that tiny cottage she managed to build with what little powers she had left. In return, you pretended that you didn’t hear her weep every night. Eventually, she simply just wilted away—a shell of the beautiful flower she once was.

“Oh, my poor child,” she had said with her final breath.

You dig your nails into your palm, hoping the pain will pull you out of the spiral you’re starting to go down. In an attempt to distract yourself, you try to focus on what’s in front of you. However, it’s not something you want to see.

The palace is, without a doubt, the most beautiful piece of architecture you’ve ever seen. Made out of pure ivory marble and adorned with ornate detailing that’s crafted from the most opulent of gold, it’s stunning in every way.

But it makes you sick to your stomach.

This was a mistake. You can’t even look at the palace. What makes you think that you can go in there and face the King? You’re still a weak little girl, and you always will be. Mother would be so ashamed of what a coward you’ve become.

Your inner voice continues to berate you, and you feel like you’ll vomit at any moment.

“Hey,” Jungwoo says gently. His naturally soft-spoken voice can’t be any louder than a whisper, yet it’s powerful enough to pierce through the myriad of unwanted thoughts going through your head.

He pries your hand open, running his thumb across the red, crescent-shaped indents in your palm. You don’t realize how hard you’ve been pressing your nails into your skin until you feel the stinging. Jungwoo’s hand is warm, and it manages to quell your uneasiness significantly.

“You’re alright,” he tells you, lacing his fingers through yours.

It unnerves you how easily he calms you down. It terrifies you to your very core how much power he seemingly has over your emotions. Jungwoo is an enigma, and you must stay far, far away. Everything about him screams trouble.

Pulling your hand away, you grip your skirt instead and take a small step back. He looks, dare you say, hurt by the way you recoil. Nonetheless, he doesn’t acknowledge it and simply clears his throat.

“My father is waiting for us,” Jungwoo says warily.

You tense, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“He isn’t thrilled about your presence, but I swear on my life that he will not harm you,” Jungwoo promises. “I will protect you, no matter what.”

“No,” you interject, “there’s no need. Your father will not lay a finger on me. He has always feared my mother and I, which is why he banished us.”

“You’re trembling, Y/N,” he whispers.

“It doesn’t matter,” you snap, “I have a duty to fulfill, and so I will. My personal feelings will be put aside, just as your father should be doing as well.”

You hate how he looks at you like he understands. Like he knows exactly what you’re feeling. Like he can see into the deepest, most hidden parts of you.

“Very well,” he sighs.

Jungwoo holds out his arm for you to hold. Inhaling deeply, you square your shoulders and straighten your back before taking it. You wore the fanciest dress you owned and made sure your hair was styled to the best of your ability for today. You want to show the King that you are doing just fine, that you still stand strong despite everything he did to you.

The doors to the throne room open, and the two of you are welcomed with a trumpet call that announces the arrival of the Prince. The King is waiting for you, sitting tall on his throne. Despite his commendable posture, his body is weak and feeble. He’s been worn down by age, and his robes hang off of him like they would a skeleton.

“Your Majesty,” Jungwoo greets, bowing.

You don’t follow suit, crossing your arms instead. The King doesn’t even glance at his son, focusing his beady stare at you. You glare back defiantly.

“You’ve gotten old,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

“It seems even vermin like you can survive after all this time,” the King responds gruffly.

“I could say the same for you,” you shoot back.

“You will heal my wife,” he orders, ignoring your insult. “Or else I will make sure you join your mother in Hell.”

The mention of your mother flares up your temper immediately. Clenching your fists, you begin to consider hexing him (maybe Jungwoo’s guards were onto something). You have never really used your powers out of malice, but you’re starting to think it may not be such a bad idea.

“Father,” Jungwoo warns.

“Your words are merely making me want to do the exact opposite, Your Majesty. You should thank every star in the sky that I have already given your son my word,” you say calmly, even though you’re anything but.

“Foolish boy,” the King spits. He says it with so much anger and hatred in his voice that it’s hard to tell that he’s speaking to his own son. “Why do you insist on defying me? Now, you’ve gone and made a deal with a witch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you sigh, “there was no deal.”

“You expect me to believe your lies? You could have easily tricked him into signing away his soul,” the King accuses.

You can’t help but laugh at his absurd claims, shaking your head. “Enough of this. We are simply wasting time.”

You turn to Jungwoo so you can tell him to lead you to his mother, but you’re surprised by the look on his face. His expression is stormy—a mix of anger, guilt, and shame. He’s biting down on his lip so hard that you’re sure that he will draw blood. His fists are tightly balled up by his sides as he stares down at his feet.

It’s clear how much Jungwoo is despises his father, but it’s also obvious how terrified he is of his own bloodline. The same blood that courses through the King also runs through Jungwoo’s veins.

Without thinking, you reach forward and slip your hand into his. He looks up at you with wide eyes, but he no longer seems as upset as he did before. You smile at him, giving his hand a small, comforting squeeze.

“Come on,” you say quietly, “let’s go see your mother.”

Jungwoo nods and grips your hand tightly before the two of you leave the throne room, not sparing the King another glance. You can feel his beady stare follow you as you exit, but you pay him no mind. Jungwoo continues to hold your hand as he leads you down the palace halls, and for some strange reason, you don’t feel the need to pull away.

When you arrive at the Queen’s chamber, only then does Jungwoo let go of your hand. He’s by his mother’s side in an instant, taking a knee by her bedside. You trail behind him, gingerly taking a step closer.

The Queen is a beautiful woman, even when she’s asleep. Her arms are folded across her stomach, and her hair is spilled across her silk pillow. She looks like she just came out of a storybook. However, her beauty is marred by the gray pallor of her skin. Beads of sweat dot her hairline, and her face is fixed in a grimace.

You frown. The grayness of her skin is not natural for a human, and you can sense a strange, familiar, energy flowing from within her.

“It seems your mother has been afflicted by a witch,” you say, examining her state carefully.

“What? How is that possible?” Jungwoo whirls around to face you.

“Either someone in her entourage is a witch or they are simply practicing witchcraft,” you explain, placing the back of your hand on the Queen’s forehead. Her skin is cool to the touch, despite sweating, which concerns you ever further.

Jungwoo still looks like he doesn’t really understand, but he doesn’t linger on the topic. “Will she be alright?”

“Yes,” you reassure him, “it’s a simple spell. I just need to make an antidote.”

“What do you need? I’ll have the maids gather them immediately,” he says, hurriedly standing to his feet.

“That will not be necessary. All the ingredients I need are at my cottage,” you say, already halfway out of the Queen’s chambers, “However, I will ask that you lend me a horse so I can go back and fetch them quickly.”

“I’ll go with you,” he offers, following behind you.

“Afraid that I’ll run off, Your Highness?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the hall and raising an eyebrow. He skids to a halt when you turn to look at him, nearly running into you.

“Jungwoo,” he corrects, “and no. I’m afraid you might run into trouble along the way.”

“You have my gratitude for your concern. However, I am certain that I will be able to handle it,” you respond curtly.

Jungwoo sighs, looking down and smiling to himself. You watch him deadpan before glancing back up at you. “Can’t you leave me just a shred of my dignity?”

“Pardon?”

He takes a step closer to you, leaning his head down so he can meet your eyes. You suck in a breath through your nose sharply, only able to match his gaze for a second before having to avert your eyes. His stare is stronger than any magic or spell, and you are no match for it.

“How many times are you going to make me beg?” Jungwoo asks softly, tilting his head.

“I—I don’t understand,” you stammer, focusing your gaze on the tip of his nose.

“I am quite aware you can handle it. I want to go with you because I would like to spend time with you,” he says, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

“O-Oh,” you say, dumbfounded.

From the short amount of time you’ve known him, Jungwoo has always been extremely forward in everything he approaches. But, surely, this is too forward.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he asks, smirking.

“Doing what?”

“Acting oblivious so I will embarrass myself.”

“No, I—”

“I am only joking, Y/N,” Jungwoo says, laughing.

You blink, staring at him in a daze, before you finally realize that he’s just been teasing you this entire time. Huffing loudly, you whirl around on your heel and begin walking again. Jungwoo easily keeps up with you because of his long strides, no matter how much you quicken your pace.

“Don’t be angry,” he tells you, barely able to hide his grin.

“I have been meaning to say this, but you are much cleverer than you make yourself out to be,” you say in an accusatory tone, glaring at him. “And judging by your behavior now, it seems to be intentional.”

“Is that a bad thing, my lady?”

“Of course it is. It means you’re dangerous,” you snap.

“Then, that would mean you would have to pay more attention to me,” Jungwoo replies smoothly.

You give him a look of disbelief, wondering where the endearing man who had knocked on your door this morning went.

“Come. I’ll show you to the stables,” he says cheerfully.

“I don’t recall saying that I wanted you to go with me,” you remind him.

“Hmm?” he hums, pretending not to hear you.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh a little yourself. It’s difficult not to get swept up in the phenomenon that is Prince Jungwoo. If you were smart, you would put an end to whatever was forming between the two of you. He is simply intrigued by you and wants to joke around, nothing more. Even if it is something romantic, the two of you could never be together. It’s better to draw a line before personal feelings become involved, especially on your end.

It would be so easy to let yourself fall in love with Jungwoo. So easy to let him tear down the walls surrounding your heart. So easy to let yourself need his presence, to crave his touch. So easy to let yourself be happy, even if it’s brief.

But it would be so easy for Jungwoo to destroy you, to trample all over you—and you’re not sure if you could withstand it.

For now, you try not to think about it.

“Have you ridden a horse before?”

You shake your head. “I don’t travel distances in which I will need a horse.”

“And you were planning on going alone, despite having no experience on horseback?” Jungwoo asks, raising an eyebrow.

“How difficult can it be?” you shrug.

He laughs; a bright, clear laugh that sounds like a bell. You’re so mesmerized by it that you almost don’t notice him step closer and place his hands on your waist. You look at him with bewilderment, and he simply smiles at you.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jungwoo chirps. Without warning, he lifts you up and sets you onto the saddle of his horse as if you’re some sort of child. His hands linger on your waist just for a moment before he pulls them back.

You let out an embarrassing squeak, automatically gripping his shoulders for support. Once you stabilize yourself, you reflexively hit him in the chest before realizing that you just punched the Prince. Luckily, he doesn’t seem that hurt or angry. In fact, it’s the exact opposite.

Jungwoo is grinning so hard that the corners of his eyes have crinkled. He’s looks at you as if you’re the warm breeze during spring, sunshine on a beautiful day, a flower in full bloom—like you’re something wonderful.

“Do not ever do that again,” you warn. You mean to sound authoritative, but your voice teeters between octaves and it comes out as more of a question than a command. You feel like your heart is doing somersaults.

Jungwoo just smiles again and climbs up, situating himself behind you. His arms encase you as he reaches around to grip the reins of the horse. Your back is pressed up against him, and you’re glad you’re turned away from him so he can’t see the bright flush on your cheeks.

“Must we ride together?” you grumble.

“While I admire your confidence, I do not think it would be safe for you to ride on your own,” he explains. He flicks the reins, and the horse begins to trot at an extremely brisk pace.

“You are underestimating me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my lady.”

“Now you’re being patronizing.”

Jungwoo laughs, and you feel it rustle your hair. Is he really that close to you? What if your hair smells bad? You had washed it with your favorite lavender soap yesterday, but what if—

“I apologize, Y/N. That was not my intention. Once my mother recovers, you are more than welcome to return to the palace, so you can ride a horse by yourself under much safer parameters,” he suggests.

You pause. That sounds like an invitation, and you know that can’t be right. Surely, Jungwoo is not crazy enough to ask you to come back. Right?

You have a sinking feeling that he is genuinely is that crazy, but you won’t allow yourself to even entertain the idea.

Unable to think of a response, you simply keep your mouth shut. The two of you ride in silence for a long stretch of time, but it’s not as awkward as you expect it to be. There’s something about being with Jungwoo that feels natural, comfortable.

“So,” you finally say, “how are you going to find the person who hurt your mother?”

Jungwoo’s face darkens and his expression turns solemn. You suddenly feel guilty. “Truthfully, I haven’t even thought about that yet. I want to make sure that my mother is going to be alright before I worry about anything else.”

“Replace everyone that is close to her, unless you know they are truly trustworthy,” you advise. “Whoever it is has managed to hide their tracks all this time, so you cannot risk it.”

He nods. “Thank you again for helping me once again. I know it was difficult because of my father—”

A loud clap of thunder makes you and Jungwoo jolt, and it’s like a dam in the sky has been opened. Instead of its normal blue, the sky has become a dark, ominous gray in a matter of seconds. The wind howls and the rain comes down with the force of an angry god. Within seconds, the two of you are soaked to the bone. The raindrops feel like you’re being pelted by small, freezing shards of glass.

Jungwoo shifts behind you before you feel the thick material of his cloak drape around your shoulders. He pulls the hood over your head and shields you from the rain with his body.

“Take your cloak back,” you holler over the wind, twisting your body so you can see him. “you’ll get sick!”

You don’t realize how close his face is to your own until he’s right there. Mere inches separate the two of you. You can see the raindrops in his eyelashes and the beads of water on his lips. How could someone look this beautiful in the middle of a thunderstorm?

He smiles softly at you, tugging the hood over your eyes before turning you back around so you can face forward. “I’ll be fine, Y/N.”

Jungwoo only slightly raises his voice, yet his words cut through the chaos. His calm demeanor and the way he’s cradling you against him makes you feel warm and safe. Like you have always belonged in his arms.

“We’re here,” he announces after a few minutes, breathing a sigh of relief. You see your cottage just up a little bit further. “Luckily, we were already close.”

After you arrive, he swings his leg over the horse and climbs down with grace. He holds his arms out to help you, and for once, you let him without any resistance. After finding shelter for his horse, the two of you dash into your cottage. Once you’re inside, you immediately begin to toss wood into your fireplace. With a snap of your fingers, you get a fire started instantly.

You both stand there in silence for a moment, watching the flames crackle as you shiver. However, you’re quickly snapped out of your haze when Jungwoo sneezes. You grab the quilt from your bed and swaddle him in it.

“Sit in front of the fire until you’re warmed up,” you order before going to your bathroom to retrieve some towels.

When you come back, you take a seat beside Jungwoo. Your soaked, ten-pounds-heavier dress, makes a gross squelch as you do. Cringing at the sound, you rise to your knees and begin to dry his hair.

“Don’t worry about me,” he protests, “dry yourself off first.”

“If something happens to you, your father will lop my head off,” you reply. “So, I will most certainly be worrying—”

One his hands reaches up to gently grasp your wrist, and all of your words die inside your throat. His fingertips are cold, yet your entire body feels so hot. He cranes his neck so that he can look up at you. You can see the reflection of the fire in his eyes, literally drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

“Really, Y/N. I’m alright,” he whispers, gaze transfixed on your lips.

You swallow. “I—”

Jungwoo slightly tugs you forward, tilting his head up even further and parting his lips as if he’s going to kiss you. You let out a small gasp, squeezing your eyes shut.

But nothing happens.

You crack open one eye. He releases your wrist and turns away, clearing his throat. His ears are red, and you can see that his cheeks are flushed too. You’re surprised, having never seen him lose his composure like this before.

“Here,” Jungwoo says hoarsely, removing the quilt from around him and handing it to you. “I am plenty warm.”

He takes the towel and begins drying his hair on his own. You stare dumbfoundedly at him with the quilt in your hand. You are certain that he was going to kiss you, so why didn’t he? The confident and headstrong Jungwoo losing his nerve? Impossible.

What’s even worse is that you closed your eyes. You expected it. You wanted it.

The two of you fall quiet, both staring at the fire once again. You can’t tell if the heat on your face is coming from the fire or from within yourself.

“So, you’ve spent almost your entire life in this cottage?” Jungwoo finally asks, turning to look at you.

“Yes,” you simply say as you take another towel and begin drying yourself off. You don’t meet his eye. Frankly speaking, you’re not sure if you can look at him right now without feeling like your heart will burst.

“Do you ever leave? Say, travel for the holidays?”

You laugh. “And where would I go?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I sometimes go to the neighboring town to buy supplies,” you continue. “Though I have to hide my face so the villagers don’t know who I am. Why do you ask?”

“You mentioned before that you don’t go distances in which you’ll need a horse, and that led me to believe that you must not stray far from your cottage,” he answers.

Jungwoo has the same expression on his face that he had when the two of you were in the throne room with the King. There’s a deep crease between his brows, and he’s biting his quivering lip. He looks down at his hands, the towel on his head slipping off and landing on the floor with a pitiful thump. His broad shoulders are drooped, which makes him look smaller.

“Why do you seem so forlorn, Jungwoo?” you ask, carding a hand through his wet hair so you can see him more clearly.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything,” he says, voice cracking. “My father was the one who drove your mother to death and ruined your life. You’ve been trapped here for the past decade, and it’s all because of us.”

“Jungwoo—”

“I swear to you that your banishment will be lifted,” he promises, placing his hand over your hand that is still in his hair. “I will ascend the throne in a month, and I won’t let you rot away in this cottage. You should be able to see the world. To be free. I—I will not be like my father.”

His words sound more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than you, and you finally understand.

“Going against your father, seeking my help, bringing me to the palace—all of it. Was it because you wanted to differentiate yourself from the King? To prove to yourself that you aren’t following in your father’s footsteps?” you ask quietly.

Jungwoo looks at you with wide eyes. You can see tears glistening in them, and you know you’re right. Sighing, your other hand comes up to rest on his cheek. You lean in, unabashedly staring him in the eyes for the first time since you’ve met him.

“You are not your father. I, of all people, should know best. There is no need to take such drastic measures to convince yourself of it. Just be yourself, Jungwoo. You will be a kind and benevolent king,” you assure him.

“How are you so sure?” he whispers. His voice trembles. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know that you’re selfless and compassionate, even to someone like me,” you answer immediately. “You chose to throw away personal bias and even your own dignity to beg for my help. You are willing to do whatever it takes to help the people you care about. You have more kindness in the tip of your pinky finger than your father has had in his entire lifetime. Your subjects will revere you when you become king.”

Jungwoo is quiet, but you can tell that you’ve hit a chord with him. There’s no longer fear and pain in his expression, but rather, hope. He is still firmly holding your hand to his hair, as if it’s his lifeline. You gently slip your hand out of his grip so you can cup his face with both your hands, lightly pinching his cheeks.

“However, refrain from knocking on witches’ doors willy-nilly from now on. Not many witches are as generous and willing to help like I am. Like your father said, you could very well be tricked into signing your soul away with some,” you warn.

“Signing my soul away to you doesn’t seem so terrible,” Jungwoo muses.

“You must be feeling better if you’re able to make your ridiculous jokes,” you sigh, beginning to pull your hands away.

He catches one of your hands, placing it on his chest and over his heart. You can feel its steady rhythm, versus your own erratic one. You wonder if he’s aware of how effortlessly he’s able to fluster you.

“I’m glad it was you who answered the door, Y/N,” Jungwoo says sincerely. “Truly.”

There he goes again—smiling at you sweetly, as if honey is dripping from his eyes. He gazes at you like you’re his dream, the only thing he wants. It’s almost as if he’s fallen in love with you.

And then the reality of it all crashes down on you.

You yank your hand away from him, scrambling up to your feet. Jungwoo looks up at you with a mix of surprise and concern on his face.

“You’re smitten with me!” you exclaim, pointing an accusatory finger at him. You may have lived most of your life in isolation, but even you can see it now.

“Are you only just now noticing that? I thought I was being quite obvious.” He raises an eyebrow, standing up as well.

“Stop being smitten with me this instant!” you order vehemently.

“If it were only that simple. Besides, I don’t want to,” he replies breezily.

“No, no, no. This cannot happen,” you mutter, beginning to pace.

“Why not?” he asks as he watches you go back and forth.

“We can’t,” you insist.

“Says who?” he shoots back.

“Everyone! Can’t you see? You are the soon-to-be-King, and I am a witch. The witch your father banished. Think about the debacle that would take place if we became lov—er, involved with each other. Your reputation will be ruined,” you explain, frustrated that he doesn’t understand.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks, except for you.” Jungwoo states.

“Don’t you wish to have any respect from your subjects and allies?” you hiss.

“None of that matters. What do you feel, Y/N?”

“It—it doesn’t matter what I feel,” you say, turning away. “We can never be together anyway.”

He stares at you, long and hard. “You’re afraid.”

“No, I’m realistic.”

“You’re using the fact that you’re a witch as a shield. You don’t allow yourself to feel anything simply because others see you as lesser, and you believe them. You’ve become comfortable like this, blockading off any sort of emotion and using the fear that others have of you as a buffer so you won’t get hurt. Your heart is trapped, just like you are inside this cottage. You’re afraid that if you leave, you might genuinely feel something,” Jungwoo continues, “—No, you’re afraid because you’re already starting to.”

He’s right, of course. Somehow, he’s always right when it comes to you. It’s so easy for him to unravel the feelings you’ve been suppressing. From the moment he laid eyes on you, Jungwoo has always been looking at you. Not the Witch of the Forest, not the fearsome creature that his father banished, not a tool that solely exists to achieve what he needs, but you. He’s found the real you, no matter how hard you try to hide.

But it doesn’t mean you won’t try.

“You talk as if you know everything about me,” you snap, “In reality, we’re nothing but strangers. The heart is a fickle thing, Jungwoo. You may think you’re in love with me today, but what about three days from now? A month? A year? You will be able throw me away without a second thought, but what will be left of me? I don’t have the luxury to act impulsively on my feelings like you. I only have myself, and I can’t afford to be hurt.”

“Do you truly think so lowly of me, Y/N? I would never hurt you,” he promises.

“You cannot predict the future,” you say quietly.

“Exactly! Are you going to live based off sheer possibilities alone?”

You don’t respond.

“What will you do then? Force yourself to never feel anything for anyone and stay in this cottage for the rest of your life?” Jungwoo asks.

“And what if I do?” you retort.

“You may have magic, but no enchantment can overpower your heart,” he says, shaking his head. “It is indeed be fickle at times, but you’ll be surprised to see how resolute and painful it can be.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say again.

Jungwoo takes a minuscule step closer, gently putting his hands on your arms. He touches you as if you’re made of glass, a pained expression his face. “It does matter. Why do you keep dismissing your feelings like this? Why must you insist on hurting yourself?”

“Because it hurts one hundred times less if I do it, rather than someone else,” you whisper.

A tear falls from your left eye, and Jungwoo’s thumb swipes it away. His hands dwarf your face as they come up to cradle it. He holds your face like your eyes are made up of diamonds and your lips rubies. Pulling you close, his arms envelop your shoulders and your face is buried in his chest. Both of your clothes are still wet, yet it feels like you’ve been embraced by a ray of sunshine.

Your hands remain by your side as Jungwoo hugs you tightly. You’re to afraid to move, fearing that you’ll shatter the moment. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to remember this moment in perfect detail. You tell yourself that this, too, is fleeting.

“You are strong, Y/N. Stronger than any person I’ve ever known,” he mutters against the crown of your head, “but it’s okay now. You are no longer alone. Let yourself cry, get angry, be happy. There’s no need to bottle it up any longer.”

You feel yourself let out a sob, a sob that racks through your entire body. Trembling violently, your hands slowly reach up to place themselves on his back, curling your fists tightly into the fabric of his shirt. Hot tears flow freely from your eyes as you press your face farther into his chest.

You hate yourself for succumbing to your emotions, and you hate yourself even more for doing it in front of Jungwoo. However, it also makes you feel liberated. Jungwoo’s arms are a safe haven, and it makes you want to forget everything and run away with him. It makes you want to be reckless and impulsive, just like him.

“—Your Highness!”

The door to your cottage is suddenly kicked down, and a swarm of palace guards barge in, with the Annoying Guard leading the pack. You try to pull away from Jungwoo, but he holds onto you tighter before moving you behind him. His arm is protectively in front of you, as he shields you with his body once again.

“What have you done to him, witch?” the Annoying Guard demands, pointing his sword at you.

“Nothing,” Jungwoo responds, glaring at him. “What on Earth are you doing? Stand down.”

“You’ve cast a dark spell on the Prince!”

“She has not! I will say it one more time, stand down,” Jungwoo orders.

Seeing Jungwoo’s expression, the Annoying Guard slowly sheathes his sword. “Y-Your Highness? Is it really you?”

“Who else would it be?” Jungwoo huffs with annoyance.

“Why are you protecting the witch?”

“Because you’re trespassing and also threatening her. Why did you come anyway?” Jungwoo asks, gritting his teeth.

“His Majesty told us to make sure you were alright, since it’s storming,” the Annoying Guard ducks his head meekly. “We have a carriage for you.”

Jungwoo tells them all to get out before turning to check on you. By this point, you’ve already collected yourself. You’ve wiped away your tears and regained your composure. You look back at him coolly, refusing to let yourself break down like that again.

“Y/N—”

“Wait for me outside. I just need a second to collect all of the ingredients for the antidote, and then I will be out shortly,” you say curtly.

He looks like he wants to argue at first but obediently retreats a moment later. When he’s out of an earshot, you harshly slap your cheeks. The stinging rings through your entire body, like a wake up call from the gods themselves. You had let yourself pretend for a moment when Jungwoo hugged you, but the cold, sobering truth of it all is more apparent than ever.

If Jungwoo were to truly stay with you, his sanity would be questioned by his peers at every moment. Eventually, he too would begin to wonder if his feelings were conjured by your magic. The happiness the two of you would have will only last for a moment, and you can’t allow yourself to have a taste of it.

Because you know you won’t be able to walk away from him.

The carriage ride back is just as awful as the first time, perhaps even more so. The cloak that Jungwoo lent you has been snatched away by the Annoying Guard, so you’re left to shiver in your half-wet dress. Jungwoo is being swathed in towels and even provided a thick jacket, but all you get is a rag that looks like it’s been used to wipe the floor. Jungwoo tries to give you his jacket, but you ignore him and keep your gaze trained on the window.

When you arrive at the palace, the two of you are immediately ushered up to the Queen’s chambers by a frantic maid. Her condition worsened during the storm, and you can feel her life force fading. The King is there too, but he doesn’t say a word. His lips are in a thin line and his face is somber. You can see in his eyes that he’s pleading with you to save his wife.

You manage to whip up the antidote in record time, carefully pouring it into the Queen’s mouth with a spoon. Within minutes, the color returns to her face and her breathing becomes normal. You place a hand on her forehead, breathing a sigh of relief when you feel warmth return to her skin.

The Queen’s eyes begin to flutter, and you quickly withdraw your hand. You turn to Jungwoo. “She should be alright now. Let her recuperate for a couple of days just to make sure.”

“You have my eternal gratitude, Y/N. I—”

“Jungwoo?” The Queen’s feeble voice whispers. She’s slowly coming to, blindly reaching out for her son. The King perks up too, but he doesn’t move towards her.

“Mother,” he responds immediately, “I’m here.”

You watch him kneel by her bedside, taking her hand. They speak to each other in hushed tones, and you realize that Jungwoo must get his soft-spoken voice from his mother. The tenderness between them warms your heart, but it also wrenches it because it’s even more proof that you don’t belong here.

Taking advantage of the fact that Jungwoo is distracted, you easily manage to slip out of the room. It doesn’t occur to you until you walk out of the palace and pass by the stables that you don’t have any means of transportation. There’s no way any palace guard will agree to take you back by carriage, and you can’t just borrow a horse because you will have to return it.

You’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice a maid walking toward you and crash right into her. She’s carrying a bale of hay and it goes flying, straws of hay exploding into the air. You stagger backwards, trying to avoid it. The maid lets out a squeal and falls onto her rear pretty hard.

“I’m so sorry,” you say hurriedly, stretching out your hand to help her up. “I was distracted and did not see you.”

“It’s alright, I did not see you either,” the maid winces, grabbing your hand and letting you pull her to her feet. “I will sweep this up in a moment. I apologize for the mess, my lady.”

Her words are lost to you. Instead, you’re focused on the immense amount of magic you felt flowing through her when she touched your hand. It’s the strongest magic you’ve felt in a very long time.

“So it was you,” you realize, narrowing your eyes. “Hiding in plain sight.”

The maid blinks before her lips curl into an evil smirk. “Well, well, you’ve finally caught me. Honestly, I’m disappointed. I thought you’d find me much sooner. Surely, finding a measly witch like me should have been child’s play for the Witch of the Forest.”

“I’ve been preoccupied,” you answer, gritting your teeth. “What is your name?”

“Joohyun,” she says. Joohyun flicks her wrist, and the hay is suddenly rearranged into the perfect block it was before. “Are you going to tell Prince Jungwoo, my lady?”

“I will not betray one of my kind so easily. However, I want to know why you chose to harm the Queen.”

“That old geezer, the King, really loves her. Even though he doesn’t act like it. I figured the only way to truly make him suffer the way he made us is to target his family,” Joohyun says breezily, shrugging.

“The Queen and Prince Jungwoo are innocent in all of this. Do not drag them into our affairs,” you chastise, though you understand where she is coming from.

Joohyun raises an eyebrow before she smiles knowingly. “I had been curious as to why you agreed to help the Queen, but I see now. You’re fond of Prince Jungwoo.”

Were you that easy to read?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snap.

“Whatever you say,” Joohyun replies nonchalantly, a glint in her eye. “Then, I suppose you won’t mind if Prince Jungwoo is my next target?”

You scowl, your eyes flashing dangerously at her. “Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not, my lady,” she backs down. She still has a smirk on her face, but you can tell she’s nervous now. “It was a joke.”

“It would do you well to watch your tongue. I am warning you now to not lay a finger on the King’s family. Incurring my anger will make you wish that I had turned you over to the Prince,” you say calmly.

“I apologize, my lady.” Joohyun bows her head.

“Go,” you order.

She obediently picks up the bale of hay before scurrying off. You watch her disappear behind the palace doors, releasing the breath you had been holding. You know Joohyun will tread more carefully now, which is a solace to you only slightly. A part of you wants to run back inside and immediately tell Jungwoo, but you force yourself to turn on your heel and begin walking away.

The two of us have nothing to do with each other now, you tell yourself.

As if on cue, you hear a distant voice calling out to you.

“Y/N!”

You know who it is, and you know you should keep walking. But your feet drag to an eventual stop, refusing to listen to your brain. Stiffly, you turn.

Jungwoo is running up to you, bridging the gap between you and the palace easily. When he’s in front of you, he reaches down and grabs the sleeve of your dress with two fingers, as if he’s afraid you’ll run away. For now, you allow him to.

“If you’re leaving, I’ll escort you,” he says, slightly breathless.

“No,” you respond, “I will walk.”

“Y/N—”

“This is not up for negotiation, Your Highness,” you cut him off, harshly tugging your sleeve away. “I did what you requested, so our business is finished. Therefore, there is no need to involve ourselves with each other anymore.”

You can tell you’re hurting him. Jungwoo takes a step closer, and you take one back. His outstretched hand falls limply at his sides. His eyes have lost their usual mischievous sparkle, flickering like a dying ember. You feel like there’s a knife being twisted into your side. How did you manage to connect so deeply to him that you can’t stand to see him upset, despite only meeting him today?

“In two weeks time,” he starts quietly, “my coronation ball will be held. Would you accompany me?”

You let out a small laugh. Even though you’re trying your hardest to hurt him, Jungwoo remains persistent like he always is.

“You know that I will not,” you say, shaking your head. “Ask someone else.”

“I want to go with you.”

You sigh, and against your better judgement, you place a hand on his cheek. He leans into your touch, clutching your wrist. “You will forget about me soon enough, Your Highness.”

“I won’t.”

“Once you’re king, I’ll be nothing more than a bad dream,” you continue. “Don’t let a temporary feeling ruin your future.”

“Why do you keep discounting the way I feel?” he asks furiously. “You keep saying that I’ll throw you away, hurt you, forget about you—it’s cruel, Y/N.”

“It’s the truth, Your Highness. You’ll see.”

“Jungwoo,” he finally corrects again, frustrated. “Please, call me Jungwoo.”

“Joohyun,” you suddenly blurt out, ignoring him. You couldn’t help yourself. If you are truly never going to see him again, you had to tell him.

“What?”

“The maid,” you clarify. “She’s the one who cursed your mother.”

“I—thank you,” he says dumbfoundedly, confused at the sudden change in topic.

“Don’t punish her too harshly,” you request.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same thing if I were in her position,” you answer honestly.

He doesn’t respond, looking at you with a wistful expression. The two of you fall into a brief moment of silence, staring into each other’s eyes. You don’t have as much trouble holding his gaze anymore, but it still makes your mind go blank. Your eyes travel over every inch of his face, committing it to your memory. You wish you could remember the sensation of his skin against your fingertips.

“Stay,” he pleads.

The hand on his face travels to the back of his neck, so you can bring him down to your level. You step on your tip-toes, placing a feather-light kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you rest your forehead against his.

“Goodbye, Jungwoo.”

And so, the two weeks pass in what seems like a matter of seconds.

You’ve managed to somewhat return to your routine, but all of your efforts are shattered when the night of Jungwoo’s coronation ball arrives. During the day, you had been aimlessly pacing around in your cottage and doing the same chores over and over again. It was like you were in a trance.

Now, you’re laying in bed—wide awake. You kick the covers off, suddenly feeling extremely hot, before tossing and turning in an attempt to tire yourself out. It is useless; your mind always seems to come back to him.

You wonder if he’ll meet a beautiful princess from a neighboring country at the ball and instantly fall in love with her. The two of them would be perfect for each other. They would be the subject of envy throughout the kingdom. Their reign would be a prosperous one, and they would bear such lovely children. Jungwoo would be so happy, and that hurts you so more than you would like to admit. You know you’re being selfish now, but you—

You nearly scream when you hear a frantic knocking on your door. Instantly sitting up, you listen to the knocking for a little longer. Your heart is racing, and you can’t fight the hope building up in your chest. Getting out of your bed, you slowly approach your door and crack it open.

Jungwoo is standing there, in full royal regalia. He’s panting, shoulders heaving up and down with effort. His collar is popped, and you can see a bead of sweat roll down his neck. His hair is mussed and stuck to his forehead. He’s clutching a piece of paper in one hand.

At first, you think he’s a hallucination but then he speaks.

“By my royal decree, your banishment has officially been lifted,” he declares, still out of breath. He smooths out the crumpled piece of paper and shows it to you. It looks like it was written by a child. There are ink splatters everywhere, the writing is barely legible, and the signature looks like chicken scratch. Most people would not believe it was an official document if it were not for the royal seal stamped at the bottom.

“Wha—”

“You were wrong,” Jungwoo interrupts, “I didn’t forget about you. And trust me, I tried. I tried so damn hard because you were so cruel. You’ve only ever diminished my feelings for you, and you were the one that threw me away when I begged for you to stay. You walked all over my heart like it was your personal doormat, yet I missed you. I wanted to see you again, even if it would hurt. So, I wrote a decree on a piece of parchment paper without consulting or informing any of my advisors and then came to find you during the middle of my coronation ball. And here I am again, pouring my heart out in front of you like a fool—”

You throw yourself at him, and he just barely manages to catch you. His arms are tightly wrapped around you as you grab his collar and crush your lips against his. Jungwoo makes a small noise of surprise before he eventually reciprocates. He kisses you like you’ll disappear at any moment, and he holds you like it too. Even when you pull away, he presses you firmly against him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” you mumble against his lips. “You are much too good for me, Jungwoo. But I selfishly missed you too. So much.”

“If it means you’ll be by my side, hurt me as much you’d like,” Jungwoo says, his fingers entangling themselves in your hair.

The two of you share another kiss under the glow of the moonlight, whispering promises to each other that you know you shouldn’t keep.

Yet, you aren’t afraid anymore.

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #ncitynetwork #neocaratnet #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jungwoo fluff #jungwoo angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct 127 imagines #nct u fluff #nct u angst #nct u imagines #jungwoo #nct #choerrypuffs

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raffinit · 4 years

Note

for ur sylvaina prompt ask if ur still doing it: as a sign of good faith during peace negotiations, jaina invents a few spells (w/ her brother as a willing test subject) for sylvanas and the forsaken. spells to help improve taste, for example. little things to help an undead get through the day a little easier, things that only the forsaken or those who lived with them would know about. basically jaina helps with forsaken accessibility and sylvanas not knowing what to do with that

thank you to everyone who bought me ko-fis

bc of you i can actually put a read more cut on this with my VERY OWN COMPUTER SOBS

back to regular updates soon i promise, i just have all these beautiful prompts

-------

It began, like most things, curiously. Or rather — with curiosity. It was a trait of hers that drew mixed results at times; more in her vibrant youth than in her middle age. Her mother once told her that she had enough curiosity to kill ten cats, and Jaina had worn it then with pride.

She learned, with time, to contain her curiosities. To apply them scientifically; because science allowed for more curiosity than she knew what to do with. Science was her excuse for setting the curtains on fire when she was nine.

Science was her excuse for portalling abruptly into the war room and landing on the table during a council meeting.

Science was why she stared so intently at Sylvanas Windrunner.

Or perhaps, more accurately — it was purely curiosity at that point. The Banshee Queen was an unreadable figure, an inscrutable force that left Jaina all but reeling with each passing day the Horde and Alliance drew closer and closer to sealing a peace treaty.

She never thought she'd live to see the day.

What she still couldn't quite put her finger on was — ironically — Sylvanas.

The Warchief did many things that were incomprehensible for one reason or another. But to Raise Derek — what could Sylvanas have possibly gained, short of perhaps tormenting them with the knowledge that she simply could?

Her reunion with Derek had been a tearful one; rife with things that neither of them could fully comprehend. Clutching her brother close, clinging to him tight, she caught the figure of the Warchief in her periphery; caught the strange melancholy on Sylvanas' face.

It was there for only an instant. Sylvanas' ear flicked, then her burning eyes flashed to meet Jaina's.

Jaina blinked and the Warchief was gone.

Reconnecting with her brother came in stages. Baby steps. They had become vastly different people — too changed to reminisce without sorrow in its wake.

Still, beneath it all, beneath his Undeath — Derek was still Derek.

Derek, who teased her fondly about all that he could. He who boldly tested the limitations of his Undead form in ways that brought back memories of a childhood spent clambering over tree branches and diving off cliffs.

"What does it feel like?" she asked one day, when her curiosity became too much.

Derek paused, lifting his head to stare off into the horizon. “It feels like…living behind a curtain, honestly,” he confessed. “I feel present…but my presence feels…” he shrugged. “Muted, almost. As if I exist on only a fragment of this plane. I’m stronger than I ever was; I can do things I couldn’t even imagine.”

Jaina ducked her head to meet his eyes encouragingly. It was still unsettling, in some way, to look into her brother’s face and see the burning unnatural shade of his gaze. “But…?”

“But I do miss it,” he sighed, a wistful look on his face. “Eating, drinking. Sleeping. I’m never tired, but sleeping’s never just been about being tired, has it? I’d like the privilege of choosing whether or not I want to rest.”

Jaina felt that deeply.

She blinked then, head tilting curiously. “Do you not taste things anymore? I’ve read some things about that, but I thought Forsaken could eat. And sleep. There were inns in the Undercity.”

“I understand about as much as you. Perhaps even less so,” he said, reaching out and squeezing her hand. He gave her a soft, self-deprecating little smile. “But here I am, lamenting the things I’ve lost when I should be grateful to even be here to begin with.”

She smiled at him faintly, though her mind was already reeling with thought. With the myriad of ways that she could — that she should — help.

“…what if you could do those things again?” she asked.

Derek paused and turned to stare at her curiously. Whatever it was that he saw there on her face made a knowing smile spread across his lips. “I know that look,” he said. “That’s a science look.”

Jaina smiled slowly. “Are you up for an experiment?”

“Always,” he said gamely. “Anything for science.”

-----

They tried spells first. Little experiments of magic that Jaina imbued her brother with in slow, gentle touches. The Light burned, but too much arcane made Derek sway like a sailor drowning in his cups. Some spells rekindled too much of Derek’s living form; made him inescapably aware of the damage his body had borne.

The agony on her brother’s face made for many sleepless nights and haunted dreams.

“This one makes everything smell,” he said one today.

Jaina brightened hopefully. “Good smells?”

“Like eggs.”

“Eggs?”

“Farty eggs. Like kippers in the morning.”

Jaina huffed and waved her hands briskly to recall the spell. “Maybe a potion instead.”

It took her another few weeks to pull together a functioning elixir. Nights spent hunched over her desk, sleeping with her cheek pressed to page after page of notes from ancient tomes and books helpfully “borrowed” from the vast library of Stormwind City.

Derek watched her some days, peering over her shoulder like a curious child at the window of a bakery. She indulged him as much as her patience would allow; until eventually his persistent questions and hovering made her all too aware of the cramped space of her temporary rooms in the Keep.

“How about you sit,” she said, jerking her chin at the plush armchair by the fireplace. “Tell me about what it’s been like since you’ve...Risen.”

Derek peered at her wordlessly but obliged, settling himself comfortably into the armchair. “What exactly do you want to know?”

Jaina shrugged. “Anything, I suppose. Everything? The Forsaken are an enigma to us. The Warchief most of all.”

“I don’t have anything to report,” he drawled. “She never spoke of plans to double-cross the Alliance, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I just meant as a person,” she replied in exasperation. “What was the Warchief like...up close?”

Derek blinked and sat back into the armchair, staring for a few thoughtful moments into the fireplace. At length, he said, “She’s a lot kinder than you would think. When I first...Awoke...she was there. She wouldn’t leave me until she was sure I could manage it on my own.”

“Manage what?”

“Existing, I suppose.” He twisted around in the armchair and peered at her over the back. “Did you know; she said I led her to my body?”

Jaina blinked. “What?”

“My soul, that is. She said she could hear it. She could hear all of us.” Derek’s voice softened with thought, and something like pity. “All of the souls lost at sea. The ones who never made peace with it. The ones who refused to rest.”

Incredulous, she asked, “She can do that?”

Derek nodded sagely. “So it seems.”

“Hmm.”

Eventually, she held out a vial of something that looked like it was made of something between the aether and sewage water. “Here.”

He took it in hand, tilting the vial this way and that and swirling it gently. “Couldn’t it have looked like a pint of mead or something? Why do all potions have to look like bog water?”

“Derek.”

“Fine, fine,” he huffed, bringing the vial to his lips —

“Just a sip, first,” she warned, eyes wide with apprehension. “Hold it on your tongue for a moment and let it coat your mouth before you swallow.”

He complied with a slight nod and Jaina watched as Derek’s jaw moved in a slow flex; as if he were considering a particular vintage of port. His glowing eyes blinked in surprise and he pulled the vial away to stare down at it thoughtfully. “Doesn’t taste as awful as it looks.”

Jaina’s eyes lit up eagerly. “So you can taste?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply, then winced hard. “Yes,” he croaked, glaring down at the vial in betrayal. “Farty eggs and kippers.” He stuck out his tongue and tried to scrape the taste off it with his teeth.

“Are you sure you’re not just confused with the smell of the sea?”

He gave her an exasperated look and corked the vial. “I think I’d know what the sea smells like.”

Jaina sighed, reaching up to run a hand through the already-tousled mess of her hair. “Back to the drawing board.”

Their success plateaued for a time; there was nothing more that Jaina could do that yielded any further result, and the frustration was building. She took to wandering the stress of Stormwind, watching the Forsaken as they bustled about. They were wary still — all of them, but the Forsaken moved with darting glances over their shoulders and the reflexive flinch of beings long-accustomed to violence.

Some mornings, she dared to test her tongue at Gutterspeak; pulling what little Derek had managed to teach her. They stared at her at first, eyeing her with open distrust and hostility that made her wonder if the words her brother had taught her weren’t inflammatory somehow.

Still, she persevered, walking among the Horde by herself when she could. Most meetings between the Alliance and Horde ran long, and there were some evenings when she would catch the glimpse of rich purple and feathered armour around the bend when she walked.

Sometimes, she would catch the Warchief’s eye as she passed. Sylvanas’ eyes gleamed at her brightly, watching as a cat would at a passing flicker of light before nodding once in greeting.

For how distant she was from the Banshee Queen, Derek seemed to have no qualms with approaching Sylvanas.

At times, she saw them talking — in quiet asides that halted abruptly the moment any other individual came within earshot, and it prodded at Jaina’s curiosity once more.

“I never thought I’d see you so friendly with the Warchief,” she remarked one day.

Derek shrugged. “She brought me back. For whatever reason. And despite what anyone might think...she...cares.”

“Cares?”

“Ask her yourself,” he replied, nudging her in the shoulder.

She didn’t, only kept her efforts of mingling with the Forsaken. Most were wary of her still, barely acknowledging her words or pointedly ignoring them.

Then one day, a Forsaken replied. His words were guttural and harsh in tone, but the words were almost...friendly. “Good morning. You must use your throat more.”

Jaina obliged readily and welcomed any and all criticism that came. Some were malicious and stung, but a majority of those who engaged her seemed...bewildered at her willingness to learn. “Haven’t others tried to learn Gutterspeak?” she asked.

The Forsaken shook his head. “Gutterspeak is beneath the Alliance, isn’t it? ‘Tis the language of us Forsaken.”

Pursing her lips, Jaina said, “All peoples should have a right to their own language.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, eyeing her with something less than hate.

Though most were wary but polite, not all members of the Horde were as accommodating. She dared to approach a warlock troll one day, blinking in surprise when he curled his lip and sneered at her.

“Why would I be sharin’ de secrets of da Horde wit’ ya?”

“Because I want to understand more about your people,” she replied staunchly. “I’m only trying to help —”

He barked out a laugh, the sound calling the attention of the nearby folk. Orc and goblin and trolls watched on, murmuring among themselves as Jaina fought back the embarrassment building in her belly.

“Leave her alone, Zaejin,” an orc said. “You’re not stupid enough to challenge the Lord Admiral.”

“Mebbe it be time someone did,” Zaejin growled back. In his hands, a dark, swirling ball of energy formed.

Jaina backed slowly away from them, smothering the prickle of arcane itching at her fingertips as more of the Horde began to gather. Something solid and cold bumped against her back and she helped softly, spinning around in alarm —

“Lady Proudmoore.”

She stiffened, staring up at burning red eyes.

Sylvanas peered down into her face impassively. A hand reached out and grasped her arm, steadying her in place. Those blazing eyes flashed back to the crowd.

Before Jaina could speak — to explain, or perhaps protest — Sylvanas insinuated herself between them, all but looming over the warlock. “Have you any qualms with the Lord Admiral that I have not heard, Zaejin?”

The gathered Horde froze, darting nervous looks between them as they shuffled back. Zaejin bowed at the hip, refusing to lift his gaze from the ground. “Warchief. How are we ta trust de Lord Admiral’s intentions —”

“Has she given you cause for concern?” Sylvanas drawled. “Has she trod on your toes? Planned a military coup to usurp power while we are in peace talks with the Alliance?”

“Who knows with de likes o’ her,” Zaejin grumbled, casting a resentful look at Jaina.

“Then this peace treaty is a waste of time,” Sylvanas said. “If you’d like us to return to war, only say so, Zaejin. I shall leave the Lord Admiral to deal with your insubordination herself.”

At last, Jaina found her voice. “It’s alright,” she croaked, darting a slightly bewildered look between Sylvanas and Zaejin. “It’s understandable that he would be...wary still. There is too much between our factions to expect everyone to be content with peace talks.”

Sylvanas’ ear flicked, her burning eyes flashing with amusement as she inclined her head. “That much is true. Regardless.” She reached out and laid a hand on Jaina’s shoulder, squeezing just so to leave the woman gaping wordlessly at her grip. Setting her eyes to the crowd, she said, “Let it be known; so long as we remain in Stormwind, the Lord Admiral is free to walk among the Horde with my blessing.”

A rich plume of power began to bleed from her shoulders effortlessly and Jaina fought back a shiver at the raw strength of it. “Have you any protests, warlock?”

Zaejin said nothing further, only glared. Boldly, Jaina reached out and touched Sylvanas’ elbow, casting a speaking look up at the Banshee Queen. “I think your point’s been made, Warchief. Let us do as you say and lay our animosities to rest.”

Wordlessly, and strangely, Sylvanas complied. “I shall escort you to your quarters, Lady Proudmoore.”

Jaina blinked. It didn’t exactly sound like an offer so much as a command, but she quelled the instinct to bristle and nodded mutely.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, when they were a fair distance away. “That was...unnecessary, but thank you.”

Sylvanas inclined her head; the weight of her hand lingered at the small of Jaina’s back. “If these peace talks are to bear fruit, we can’t have the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras assaulted in the streets. And we can’t have you levelling half the street in retaliation.” Her eyes slid sidelong knowingly.

Jaina huffed. “I could have managed with a little more tact than that.”

“I have no doubt,” Sylvanas said. They walked on for a time in a stilted sort of silence, until the Warchief folded her arms behind her back and remarked idly, “How have your experiments been going?”

Jaina paused in her step and stared.

Shrugging, Sylvanas said, “Derek likes to talk.” It was strange to hear her brother’s name on such a foreign tongue. “I understand the desire to...process the state your brother returned to you in. Not many of the living had such a kind reception to their Undead loved ones.”

“...He told me you gave him the choice to come back. Despite everything.” Jaina’s gaze was hard and searching, but not unkind.

Sylvanas’ ears swivelled and flicked, but there was nothing in her face that gave away the Warchief’s thoughts. She shrugged. “...I do not Raise those who do not wish to be raised. Not without purpose."

“And what was your purpose here?”

Sylvanas peered at her thoughtfully before turning back forward. “I did not Raise him with the intention of misusing him. I know the stories the Alliance tells about my powers. My goals and aims.”

Her burning eyes slid sidelong to Jaina for a moment. Quietly, she said, “I will not lie and say that the possibility never crossed my mind. But the Forsaken have never been mine to use. They are my kin, not my servants.”

The weight of Sylvanas’ words stunned Jaina; brought every story about the Dark Lady and her relationship with the Forsaken into question. Many thought her a tyrant — and she was, in many ways — but this was not one of them, it seemed.

Jaina ducked her head almost in shame before nodding once, meeting Sylvanas’ gaze steadily. “I believe you.”

Sylvanas made a noise in her throat, tilting her head curiously at Jaina. “...Does he regret it? Some do.”

“No,” Jaina replied, and the honesty of her response surprised even herself. “I don’t think he does. I think he’s...trying to adjust. And I want to help.”

Sylvanas nodded slowly. “Do let me know, should you require another test subject. I would be curious to see what you could achieve,” she said.

“Wh—?”

“If you require information from the High Necromancer, I shall provide it,” Sylvanas continued, pausing as they reached the tower. Glancing up at the spire, she turned to Jaina. “It is my duty as their leader, is it not? To ease their burdens. I would like to help, if I can.”

Jaina blinked rapidly, then found herself nodding. It was the only thing she could think to do. “Y-yes, alright — I — thank you??”

A slow, curling smile spread across Sylvanas’ face. “You’re welcome. Until another time, Lady Proudmoore.”

#this got away from me YET AGAIN #anon #ask #fic drabble #sylvaina #sylvanas windrunner #jaina proudmoore #derek proudmoore #magic and vague lore things #can sylvanas really hear all the souls? who knows #i say she can #it's weird typing on my laptop again sobs #why are the keys so soft now #Anonymous

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dyketectivecomics · 4 years

Note

wait i wanna hear the conversation about how cass processes her anger

(its been so long since i made the original tag, but i hope you like this verifiable essay zaed lmao) (and uh, LONG POST warning for everyone else. this is a good 3k of Cited/Summed-Up Issues and Meta about Cass’ Batgirl run)

The reason why Cass processes differently from Bruce is because their traumas have different origin points and therefore have manifested differently. While Bruce’s vigilante drive is in avenging those who have been wronged and bringing villains to justice (bc of his perceived ‘failure’ to save his parents/bring Chill to justice), Cass’ drive is all about her absolution (bc of her continuous guilt for taking a life & later for any other person she feels she ‘failed’ along the way). That being said, while Cass herself is not a typically angry character, the anger that she displays throughout Batgirl (2000) usually has one of three origin points; the vindictiveness towards criminals that she’s learned from Bruce, her unresolved anger towards her father & mother, or the special cases, often where her inhibitions have been selectively lowered due to outside forces. Given that Cass is never given many healthy options to channel this anger, however, is how she ends up emulating Bruce, and is what makes exploring her anger so fascinating.

With that, let’s dive through the canon & Cass’ journey in Batgirl (2000).

I - Learning Vindictiveness

Again, all things considered, Cass isn’t an angry character at the start of her series! In issue #1, wordless as most of it is, there is a very telling moment when both she and Bruce are fighting together, and when she chases a goon into an alley. She watches while Bruce is a little overzealous in taking said goon out. For first-time Cass readers who may not have read NML, this can be a very telling moment. Cass has seen Bruce work. More than that, she’s seen him work in what’s likely one of the most stressful disasters to plague Gotham. But this is one of the first times that she’s really seeing him, and starting to pick up on how and why Bruce operates the way that he does. Admittedly, this is an undertone that I didn’t quite pick up on, during my first readthrough! But I mention it here bc I think it’s something to keep in mind. Because in #4, when Bruce makes his infamous “she’s perfect” speech, he specifically mentions how she ‘holds back’ even for criminals who he wouldn’t care if she was a little harsher with. I think that this is a big moment for Bruce, realizing how he excuses vindictiveness. However, he quickly backtracks on this when in #6, when Cass becomes so incensed (one of the first times we really see full-fledged anger from her) by seeing a criminal shooting arbitrarily that she stops his heart for a few seconds. And Bruce, hypocrite that he is, berates her for taking things a Step Too Far there.

Okay, might be getting a little harsh on Bruce, so in his defense, he doesn’t like the road he sees her heading down. At this point, he’s in denial of the Evidence that Cain has sent him so far that Cass has killed in the past. He’s fearful for what it might mean that he’s putting faith and trust in a potential killer (or rather is in flatout denial that Cass The Perfect Fighter could Ever Have Possibly Killed when she CLEARLY exhibits so much control. Killers must be all or nothing things, after all, right? Once one, aways one? (you’re absolutely wrong bruce but OKAY))

The point still remains, that Cass didn’t show vindictiveness on this level prior to issue #6. And more importantly, prior to Bruce showing her his own vengeful side. And the wildest thing about this… is that he continues to nurture and reward that vengefulness.

Issue #14 is a follow-up to a story where Cass had saved a man while out of costume, and Bruce learns that he had been killed regardless. Hoping to intercede before she finds out on her own, he leads Cass directly to the killers and allows her to punish (read: beat the crap out of) them for the man they killed. Now, there was some significant lead-up to this issue, the biggest shake-up also being that Cass is officially moved out of the Clocktower and into her own Cave. (Promotion or Isolation, it’s tough to speculate which exactly Bruce had in mind, given Cass’ behavior leading to this moment. None of it, I would label as quite angry, however. More... moderately rebellious.) So this can be seen as a kind of turning point where Bruce is explicitly putting faith in her again.

From here we begin to see more and more instances of children being put in danger & Cass being more vindictive in turn. Most especially in #16 (when Cass realizes the mastermind behind a heist is the father of the boy who sent her after them & she’s harsher with him than with many of the other crooks), and #18 (where she and Tim team up and she breaks a kidnapper’s hands when he threatened to kill the girl he had hostage). By this point in the series, Cass has also been working more consistently with others, and it’s easy to see how this has become a learned behavior, and a poor outlet for her growing anger towards the criminal element.

Cass, for all of her heart and training that she’s poured into her vigilantism, at this point in the series had been working towards one goal, to be ready to die by Shiva’s hands. Now, I want to put a pin in Shiva since she comes more into play in Part II, but just know that their fight in #25 was a turning point for Cass’ character, where she begins to care much more about the work Bruce does outside of simply fighting criminals, she begins to care about truly helping victims and for solving cases.

#34, specifically, opens with Cass and Bruce investigating a crime scene, where Cass can tell that a child was hurt. She asks Bruce to allow her to help solve it, but he benches her, telling her she’s ‘not ready’ for detective work. The rest of the issue is interspersed with Cass training until her knuckles are bleeding, and does end with her helping Bruce take down the group responsible! When Bruce asks at the end, however, if putting away One Killer is enough for her, she responds ‘No’, and Bruce expresses his pride in that declaration.

For a long time by this point in the run and for quite a time after, Bruce has absolutely been molding Cass more and more into the same type of vigilante that he is. And Cass is perfectly fine with that! She sees Batman as something to aspire to, the symbol as something transformative and redemptive. And as long as she is channeling the anger that she feels at those who so clearly deserve that punishment, then she must be doing something right.

Because there certainly aren’t other outlets or alternatives that could be productive… could there?

II - Dad/Mom Issues

Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive is an extremely notable story arc, not only for the crossover event that it became, but for the impact and repercussions that it would have for Cass. While not expressing anger, per se, during this arc, Cass does show a lot of frustration towards both Dick and Barbara whenever they suggest theories of how/why Bruce may have actually committed the murder (which, spoiler, he was indeed framed for! By Cain, no less!). This is important to note because this arc highlights a few things; the faith and trust that Cass has put into Bruce that she’s willing to go to bat for him, the jealousy & proprietary nature that Cain displays over Cass, and finally the consequences that are had when that jealousy comes to light.

Another case opens up after this arc, and Cass is forced to confront Cain in #33 in an effort to gather intel on the criminal known as Alpha. When she goes in under the guise of a reporter and tries to interrogate him, she’s overcome with unresolved anger towards Cain, yelling “Who do you think you are?” and even breaking through the glass to get to him. This isn’t the first, nor the last time that Cass’ anger towards Cain is on display, but it’s certainly a prominent one, as while she makes physically aggressive moves towards him (and yeah, initially kicks him when breaking through the glass), she never outright lays a hand on him otherwise in this one. Threatens him, sure, but shows remarkable restraint given the high emotions.

Cass’ feelings about Cain and about the events of Murderer/Fugitive aren’t ever fully articulated, but given #37, I think we can draw some more definitive conclusions. This issue follows the thread given previously in #33, opening with Cain sending Cass a knife for her birthday. With it, she finally connects the dots that Cain is indeed her biological father, something that was speculated, but not fully confirmed before now. In her anger against everything he’s done to her, they close this issue with a rather dramatic shot of her doing everything possible to destroy the knife, leaving it unclear if she’s truly successful, however.

In later issues when Cass reminisces on her past and on those who have influenced her, Cain is always one of the shadows included. Unfortunate as it is, Cain will always be part of who Cass was, but from this point on in her series, she starts to let some of that anger go. Cain doesn’t decide her future. She does.

Juxtapose this idea, however, much later in #65, when Cass begins to suspect who her mother might be, but wants confirmation. This is what kicks off the final arc of her series, and effectively brings one of the longer running storylines to a close. Cass goes to Gotham to ask Bruce, who also has had his suspicions, but can’t confirm that Shiva is her mom. Since Cass is in town, she goes to train with Onyx (another former assassin-turned vigilante), and whether she’s doing it on purpose or because Shiva is on her mind, she begins to incorporate Shiva’s moves into her fighting, which Onyx points out. All this comes to a head when she confronts Cain for an answer, which he refuses (and we finally see her fully beat his ass lmao). Once again, she doesn’t express anger with Bruce or take out her frustrations on Onyx, but instead levels the blame entirely on Cain, and uses him as an outlet once she’s reached a breaking point.

Another moment to point out is in #67, when the Birds of Prey help Cass along in tracking down Shiva, and when Cass and Dinah train in the meantime. Dinah shows off her new moves (Shiva’s moves) to Cass, and Cass reacts badly, nearly choking Dinah out as she demands to know how Dinah learned those moves. She learns that Shiva’s been looking for a student/heir, and later on that she’s been working with the League of Assassins to help her to that end. I feel this moment highlights a growing trend, that feelings left bottled up will eventually spill over if they’re not properly acknowledged. Would Cass have otherwise reacted so poorly to Dinah showing her ‘new moves’ otherwise? But I digress.

Given that their first confrontation was in this same vein, of Shiva looking for one to either end her reign or take over her legacy, it’s kind of poetic for them to end on this note. The series concludes with Cass facing off against Shiva for the last time, Cass the unmitigated victor, with nothing left to prove to either of her parents or to herself. She’s finally at peace with her past, and that leaves her present a wide open mystery.

This, however, brings us to a topic that still bears exploration...

III - The Edge™

Because no matter how much Cass is able to hold back, even in her quest for justice. No matter the anger that she feels towards her parents. I would be remiss if I didn’t bring up the times that Cass has been pushed back to the worst possible edges.

The first, and most prominent of which, occurs in #15, when Cass is hit by a machine that causes her to hallucinate the Joker killing Bruce. The entire purpose of the machine was to push people into ‘deciding’ to kill others, and for most it would knock them out for a few minutes/hour before they would wake up and be compelled to commit a killing spree. For Cass, it was a matter of seconds that she ran through the scenario presented by her subconscious, and to make that ‘decision’. Cass is introspective at the end of the issue, and her concern for Bruce is made very clear. Her emotions towards that ‘decision’ however… is a lot less understood.

Now another issue I want to bring up is #19, a lot less for it being an issue where Cass’ outright anger is employed, but as another extreme case with high emotions. Cass hears that a man has been sentenced to die, and, believing that all life should be spared, actually goes to the trouble of breaking through the chamber where he’s being held and stops the process in its tracks. She truly does want to believe that anyone can be redeemed, and it’s an admirable part of her character. Ultimately, her efforts are for naught, the man is still sentenced to die and Cass is now forced to contend with a system she does not agree with. It’s an interesting idea to explore and highlights her idealism, but ultimately it’s not as fully understood or even really acknowledged, in my opinion, by the fandom at large. (Which is why I wish I had highlighted it in my previous meta, but I’m getting off topic again.)

Recalling that her ‘Perfect Year’ occurs during this next example, in #21 she almost kills the villain Shadowthief in her preparation for her first deathmatch with Shiva, and immediately regrets the lapse in judgement when she realizes what she had done. Stephanie was luckily nearby to help her resuscitate him, but it was nonetheless a very telling moment and lapse. It’s a harrowing reminder of what Cass IS capable of. Though she’s been preparing and training for a fight to the death, she’s still absolutely abhorred by the thought of taking another life. She’s not angry during this battle, she’s more playful than she’s been in a lot of issues leading up to this, actually. But the point remains, Cass will always be capable of taking another life, what she lacks is the willingness to knowingly do so, and now will always have a fear of the possibility.

With that we circle back around to two of the drug-induced cases, first in #46 where Cass accidentally ingests Soul. The stream of consciousness that materializes on the pages, shows that she HAS picked up on everything that everyone around her feels/sees in her, and that she’s internalized it to some degree. Cass does manage to fight through most of it and held her own against the drug runners she was fighting. Something to note, though, is that this incident is preceded by Cass learning that Babs and Dick are once again at odds, so once Babs sends Dick to check up on Cass, she responds (still in that drug-induced state mind you) by kicking Dick out a window on Babs’ behalf. Given that Cass has no previous history of turning on allies, (& won’t again until the incident with Dinah much later) even when frustrated or in disagreement with them, this moment certainly needs to be kept very carefully in context.

Following this issue, we see a slight personality change from Cass, where she’s becoming more reckless and frustrated. In #48 this culminates in her ignoring both Babs and Bruce’s calls, she ends up comprising his human trafficking investigation, and Bruce grounds her from being Batgirl in the meantime. #49 shows her going against Bruce’s wishes and operating in Babs’ old suit, something that angers Bruce when he discovers this.

This story arc finds its conclusion in #50, where both Cass and Bruce are gassed with Soul and they fight a pretty brutal battle while under its effects. They have their famous heart to heart after, where Bruce asks ‘once and for all’ where Cassandra’s loyalties lie. Bruce later posits that this fight was the ‘therapy’ that Cass needed bc “what other therapy will she understand?”.

While his heart may have been in the right place, this idea, that Cass can only respond to fighting and express herself through violence, is ultimately not a very healthy one. Cass’ default is already training and fighting, so any further strain that she puts on herself becomes something more akin to self-flagellation than anything near to a proper coping mechanism.

IV - Conclusion

And that’s where the parallel between Cass and Bruce really reaches an uncanny similarity for me. Because they pour everything they can into the mission, often to the detriment of their mental and emotional health. While Bruce’s degrees of self-awareness for his anger may vary by writer, Cass’ is fairly consistent across her Batgirl run. The outlets given to her were so few to begin with, and any effort to examine her emotions or to express herself through other outlets is… simply not given to her for all too long over the course of her series. It’s a rather tragic, and ultimately heartbreaking thing, because so soon after her series ends… DC seemed to decide the best thing to do with her, was to turn her into a villain.

I said at the beginning that Cass is not a naturally angry character, but it does need to be acknowledged that she’s absolutely capable of anger, and that that anger is often not expressed in the healthiest of ways. Whether this development is seen and acknowledged by the fandom at large, however, well… while that’s looking less and less likely by mainstream batfam stans, I am hopeful that Cass fans continue to highlight this aspect of her character in the content they create. And that I, too, can remember to acknowledge this in future fan content that I make as well.

#cassandra cain #randywritesmeta #asked and answered #jaccsonhyde #zaed tag #bruce wayne #*jazz hands* ITS AN ESSAY SOOO YKNOW #keep that in mind!!#hope yall like this ahhh #long post #(JUST in case tunglr acts weird!!)

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thejamesoldier · 4 years

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Every Tomorrow

AO3 Link

a/n: Did I write this fic bc I slammed face first back into the inuyasha fandom after the premiere of yashahime? Absolutely. Did I write this fic so I could get those g o o d domestic inukag feels? Absolutely. Did I write this fic as a way to come to terms with the fact that one of my first crushes as a kid happened to be an animated dog man? Absolutely. Enjoy yall xxx

(this goregous gif isn’t mine!)

rating: explicit

pairing: inuyasha x kagome

tags: protective inuyasha, jealous inuyasha, emotionally constipated inuyasha, honestly whats new, youkai mates, soulmates, youkai culture, mate bonds, mate rituals, touch-starved inuyasha, shippo is kagome’s son dont talk to me, mirsan as parents, sesshoumaru is still kinda a prick but we like him now, angst and smut and fluff, domestic bliss, srsly this shit is so soft i should be arrested, non-canon compliant with yashahime, shit ton of inukag being cute tbh

summary: 'Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.'

my excuse to write some indulgent domestic inukag and explore their happy ending

Chapter 1 - mizpah

The day is grey.

Clouds rumble low and thick over the skyline, swallowing the tops of buildings in the distance and casting deep shadows across the shrine grounds. Kagome is supposed to go out today, a few friends asked her to grab lunch at some new bistro that's opened up near campus. She'd been contemplating how to work the impending downpour into an excuse to stay home, never really having the energy for much these days. Parsing out when to expend the limited energy she did have had become a constant chore since being cut off from --

A familiar pain twangs through her chest, the ache almost welcome. It's all she has left of him.

Maybe it's the rain, maybe its the gloom of the day pulling out the worst of her longing, but regardless she finds herself pushing silently out of her room, walking downstairs, slipping outside, and standing before the closed doors of the Bone Eater's well. Drawn back once again to what was stolen from her. Kagome had promised herself she'd stop doing this, stop torturing herself -- stop giving in to the inexplicable sorrow of living a life without him. But just like the other times, the temptation to let the true weight of her loss pour into the gaping hole in her soul and fill her to the brim, make her so heavy with it that she's brought to her knees, is a poison she's unable to resist. She does this more regularly than she knows is healthy, but its the only way Kagome feels whole anymore. If she's not drowning in loss then she's empty, and Kagome isn't sure which is worse. Without a word she shoulders the doors open and descends the rotting stairs.

The familiar musty smell of earth and something not quite alive but not quite dead hits her. Kagome's eyes water at the memories the scent yields. Before she can stop herself her fingers come up to caress the splintering lip of the ancient well. It feels...empty, same as it always does when she comes in here. The sensation is akin to a sense of hollowness, that the shaft of negative space that runs down the well's center is truly all that's left of the magic that used to come alive for her. A silent sob wrenches down her throat, rendering her vulnerable to the torrent of emotion that swells in her. She let's each gasping breath tear her open, tear out all that's left of her. A sick relief floods her as the sorrow emerges fully and, as always, she crumbles to her knees under the burden of it.

Inuyasha...

Just saying his name, even in the privacy of her own mind, tares something vital out of Kagome's core. She hopes he knows, hopes that despite it all he knows that she is still his in every way a person could be. Disassembled and broken as she is, Kagome offers her anguish to the well praying that if it wouldn't return her to him, then it could at least take her devotion instead.

Carry it to him, remind him he's loved...

For a moment she considers descending the well and curling up at the bottom of it, willing her feelings to reach him, but the thought of her mother finding her like that again...she couldn't bare it. Her mom had been so heartbroken, so overwhelmed with worry when she found Kagome lying at the bottom of the well, cheek pressed to the dirt and eyes seeping tears that wouldn't stop. She wouldn't do that to her again. With that thought Kagome tries to rally herself, to yank her heart away from the addicting agony of missing him and prepares to push her mind into the nothingness she utilizes to numb the pain. She had allowed herself this much and it had to be enough for now, anymore and she'd send herself into a deeply harmful depressive state.

Kagome closes her eyes and uses the well to help heave herself to stand, movements slow and body sore, feeling like her limbs are made of lead. Before she turns to leave, Kagome grips the well as fiercely as she can with both hands. A feeling of intensity overtakes her in that moment and she's unable to think of anything but:

Inuyasha, Kagome declares to the emptiness of the well, I want to see you.

What happens next astounds her. Fate smiles in glee as -- finally -- the threads of time align and pull taught. A gentle breeze smelling of sunshine and wildflowers drifts up to Kagome, it's warm fingers brushing tenderly through the hair that hangs in her face. Kagome's eyes open with an audible gasp. Her heart blossoms because there, lying at the bottom of the well, is a cerulean sky -- a few wispy clouds floating lazily by. The sound of birds singing echoes up to her and suddenly, the Bone Eater's well bursts to life. Kagome is embraced by the energy of the well like an old friend as it resurrects in silent sparkling splendor around her. It soaks into her skin, her soul, filling her with hope instead of sorrow. It's pure life, and it beckons to her with such surety that it breaks Kagome's heart.

"Kagome?"

Her mother's voice forces a sharp exhale out of Kagome, she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. Kagome can't look away from the impossible sky below her though, she's frozen in shock and wrestles with the possibility that this isn't a dream. She's had so many that happened just like this. Kagome...Kagome doesn't dare to hope...

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Higurashi asks as she makes her way down the stairs and comes to a stop behind Kagome, concern strangling the usual softness of her tone into an unsure waver.

"Mom," Is all Kagome is capable of saying, and it comes out in a hoarse terrified whisper.

Kagome hears her mother give a small gasp of disbelief, before Mrs. Higurashi steps up close beside her daughter and peers down the well too.

"The sky," Kagome hushes, still unable to fully accept what's happening but slowly becoming afraid that this will all be ripped from her. Again.

A gentle hand wraps around her shoulders and pulls Kagome back from the ledge. Kagome lets her mother do this, lets herself lean into her mother's warmth in the face of all this crushing possibility.

"Mom I," Are the shaky words Kagome tries to preface her departure with, not sure what to even say -- lost in how she's meant to articulate the avalanche of emotion she's feeling. Because even if this is a dream she can't bare to wait any longer, she needs to know if...if maybe the well heard her and is by some miracle answering her prayers.

Mrs. Higurashi turns Kagome around to face her, hands soft as they frame her daughter's shoulders.

"Kagome," Her mother says her name and it holds all the world in it, Kagome looks up and is immediately swept away by the love in her mom's eyes. Mrs. Higurashi smiles at her then -- kind eyes closing on tears that are beginning to fall, and Kagome nearly collapses, "I understand."

With a sob Kagome embraces her mother for the last time.

"Tell Sota and Grandpa that I love them," Kagome murmurs in a rush.

Her mother only squeezes her tighter and nods. They shake in each other's arms for another breath before both pulling away.

"I am so proud of you Kagome," Mrs. Higurashi says, voice trembling with emotion but warm, always so warm.

"I love you Mama," Kagome responds as tears begin to swell in her eyes.

"Give this to him for me," Her mother requests as she takes Kagome's face in her hands, and leans in close to press a searing kiss to her forehead.

"Oh Mama," Kagome weeps as her mother's love wraps around her heart and fills her with a kind of joy she hasn't felt in years.

Mrs. Higurashi leans back a little and uses her thumbs to wipe the wetness off of Kagome's cheeks.

"Tell him that I love him, that I've always seen him as a son, and that I am proud to have him be apart of our family."

Kagome deteriorates into a watery mess as the sentiments her mother just shared wash over her. Wordlessly, Mrs. Higurashi helps her daughter climb up onto the lip of the well before they simply stare for a moment, taking each other in one more time. Then her mother bestows her one last parting gift.

"Live Kagome," Her mom hushes, fierce happiness triumphant in her voice, as she releases her daughter's hands and watches as she turns to leap down the well, body disappearing from sight moments later.

Goodbye Mama, Kagome calls back as she sinks into time.

Kagome relishes the sensations traveling through the well give her -- a fierce nostalgia gripping her chest at the bursts of cobalt light, the galactic vastness watching her fall past, the light at the bottom of the well welcoming her home...

When she lands on solid ground a part of her fears so intensely that she's still in her time, that she refuses to open her eyes. What if she were to look up and see her mother staring down at her? Kagome hesitates for a moment, eyes closed, standing so still, terrified that this isn't real, and then something throbs in her chest --

She feels him, feels his youki hurtling towards her and suddenly, Kagome is no longer afraid.

Inuyasha!

Kagome opens her eyes and squints at the sky above her, the breeze she felt earlier encouraging her towards her future. She makes it about three fourths of the way up the well when she hears him. The pounding of his feet against the earth as he races closer, his aura a brilliant thriving thing that feels like the sun against her skin. Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.

"Inuyasha," She says his name, says it just for him, and he inhales, "I'm so sorry, were you waiting here for me?"

Inuyasha's expression shifts and Kagome gasps softly at the chaos he's trying to contain, but then he says her name. Says it just for her.

"Kagome."

A wet laugh escapes her lips at the sound of his voice, at how she used to long to hear him say her name, just like that.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmurs again just because she can as her fingers play with the ends of his forelocks, eyes jumping all over his face trying to take in every part of him at once.

Unable to help herself, Kagome wraps both arms around his neck, relishing in the feel of his hair threading through her fingers, and presses her lips to his with a sigh. Inuyasha remains still for a moment, like his brain is one beat behind, before he clutches her to him so hard her lungs squeeze in her chest. Kagome doesn't care, in fact she doesn't feel like they're close enough. She wants to crawl her way into him and stay there forever, never to be separated again. The kiss feels like coming home, and it makes the part of her that sat empty for the past three years steadily fill. Inuyasha's lips are slightly chapped, she notes, and he kisses her like she's the only kind of devastation he'd willingly submit to. Impossibly, her love for him deepens further. Kagome pulls back with a gasp, trying to catch her breath as Inuyasha carefully sets her down on the ground, their lips brushing while the two of them tremble in the wake of such sweeping passion.

"Kagome," Inuyasha whispers her name again, like its the only word he knows, and dives back down to reclaim her lips.

She lets a soft noise shake loose from her chest when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his claws snagging on the material of her cardigan as he holds her close. Kagome feels a fang nip at her lower lip and, smiling into the kiss, she happily opens up for him. When their tongues meet, Inuyasha's hands raise to cup both sides of her jaw, mindful of his claws near such delicate skin. With something between a groan and a growl, he breaks their kiss to turn her head to the side, smoothing one reverent hand down the exposed length of her neck. Her heart beat picks up when in one long inhale, Inuyasha traces his nose in a steady line from her collarbone up to the patch of skin just below her ear. He makes a tender noise then, nearly a whine, and without preamble presses his face firmly into the arch of her neck, taking deep unhurried breaths through his nose. Kagome leaves one hand wrapped around the bulk of his shoulders, but brings the other one up to hold the back of his head in place against her. One of his ears flicks against her cheek and in a moment of raw delight, a giggle bubbles up from her throat as does a fresh wave of tears. Inuyasha flattens the offending ear against his skull but Kagome remains undeterred and drops a sweet kiss on to the delicate appendage, the soft fur tickling her lips a little. She holds him even closer as he melts against her at the intimate display of affection.

Oh kami she'd missed him so much.

"Kagome!"

It takes a second for the two of them to come back down to earth, but the call of Shippo's voice encourages Kagome to turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. Inuyasha makes a firm noise against the skin of her neck -- a warning, like he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He tenses when she ignores him and stiffens even further as Shippo continues to barrel closer. In the span of a heartbeat Inuyasha has Kagome behind him and lets a true growl rip from his throat. Kagome startles against his back, realizing belatedly that he'd just threatened Shippo.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome's words come out sounding like an odd mix of admonishment and worry.

Shippo looks genuinely shocked at being challenged with such a territorial threat display, having slid to an abrupt halt at Inuyasha's feet. Inuyasha comes back to himself after a few beats, brain catching up with his instincts, and his aggression falters.

"Slowly," Inuyasha grinds out as he steps to the side to allow Kagome to come forward, working furiously to relax his muscles.

Respecting Inuyasha's warning, Shippo moves very carefully towards Kagome, though he only manages to take two steps before Kagome is crashing to her knees and hauling him into her arms.

"Shippo!" She cries and Shippo immediately starts bawling.

The young kitsune grabs tuffs of her hair in his tiny fists and smashes his face into her neck, repeating her name over and over again unable to help himself. Inuyasha stiffens again at this, but grits his teeth against the instinct to tear the runt clean out of Kagome's arms. She wouldn't like that, and honestly neither would Inuyasha, he knows how much Kagome means to Shippo.

What's wrong with me?

"You, you made it back!" Sango bursts as her and Miroku catch up and come to a stop a few feet in front of them, kids in tow.

"It's been much too long Kagome!" Miroku calls in absolute astonishment.

"Miroku, Sango!" Kagome all but weeps as she rises from the ground, Shippo still held tight in her arms, and rushes to embrace them.

Inuyasha feels that angry tug in his gut again at the idea of so many scents polluting Kagome's skin so soon after getting her back, but the larger part of him can only smile as he watches his woman hug Sango then Miroku -- mindful of the kids in their arms and murmuring little 'hello's to them as well. He can smell the depth of their rapture as they all rejoice Kagome's return. It puts Inuyasha's heart into a state of profound contentment, and he realizes then that he's never felt this way before. Who knew anticipation could be a good feeling? Because damn was he ready to experience every single tomorrow with Kagome by his side.

The rest of the afternoon is spent celebrating. Kagome reunites with Kaede, the elder priestess nearly speechless with elation at seeing Kagome push aside the noren of her hut. To Kagome's surprise Rin is also there, the young girl delighted by Kagome's return as well, and hadn't hesitated to gush about how lonely Inuyasha was without her. Inuyasha had only shrugged at this, not denying it but still sent a betrayed glare Rin's way as color rose high on his cheeks. Kagome is welcomed back by the people of the village too, townsfolk she'd gotten to know during her time collecting jewel shards being especially pleased to see her, though they knew not where she'd gone. Kagome and Inuyasha stuck to each other like glue through it all, unwilling to part for even a moment. No one blamed them.

At one point Kagome started to panic because she had to pee of all things, and the thought of loosing sight of her hanyou if only for a minute terrified her. The fear that this was a dream kept gnawing at her, and the possibility that this could all be taken away at any moment made Kagome feel physically ill. She'd held it in as long as she could before walking nearly knock-kneed to relieve herself. It turned out Kagome needn't have worried at all because without a word Inuyasha had followed her, giving her true privacy for only as long as it took to empty her bladder before he was within her sights again. Kagome had blushed furiously when it occurred to her that him being so close while she used the bathroom probably meant that he could...smell it. When she tried to shoo him away he only stared at her, firmly shaking his head no once, and waited. After Kagome had finished she'd made her way back over to Inuyasha, feeling incredibly sheepish about the whole situation. The moment she was close enough though he'd pulled her into a desperate hug and whispered,

"Please bare with me Kagome, I-I can't..." He'd trailed off but Kagome was already hugging him back, refusing to let go. She understood.

They shared a grand feast with Sango and Miroku that evening, Kagome using the time to properly acquaint herself with their children. Shippo sat in her lap for most of the meal, and its as she stared at her friends -- her family, that Kagome realized that she'd been given something truly precious and everything in her vowed to never let it go. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, and the fear that this was temporary strangled her multiple times throughout the reunion. But Inuyasha was always right there beside her, and having him close ended up being the only way to ease the worst of her anxiety. After everyone finished their food and caught up on each other's lives as much as they could in one sitting (the serious questions being left for tomorrow), the pair said their goodbyes for the night. Shippo had fought to retire with Inuyasha and Kagome, but was stilled by Miroku's hand on his small shoulder. Kagome embraced Shippo before delivering a soft peck to his cheek, letting him nuzzle back for a beat or two more before promising to come back first thing in the morning.

Now Kagome and her hanyou are getting settled in a hut the villagers had built for Inuyasha that's set on the outskirts of the village. It's quite obvious to Kagome from the state of the place that Inuyasha hardly uses it, though she knows how lonely he gets by himself and she figures he probably spends most of his time with Sango and Miroku who live more centrally to the village. Inuyasha's hut is mounted at the peak of a sloping hill, the tallest in the surrounding area besides the shrine itself. At first she wondered if the villagers meant to ostracize Inuyasha by putting his hut so far from everyone else's, but as they reach the hill's zenith, she realizes it isn't a sign of disrespect but quite the opposite. The vista from his home has views of the entire village and even overlooks a decent portion of the forest. On the opposite side of the hut, miles of stunning countryside sprawls under the hazy light of the setting sun all the way to the horizon. Inuyasha would be able to spot danger days before it arrived, or gain minutes to whole hours of advantage if the threat was a youkai. The villagers aren't keeping him at a distance, they're treating him like their Lord, giving him the highest ground, the most control over the land -- trusting that he will use it to protect them. It makes Kagome's heart clench with raging pride.

"It's beautiful," Kagome finds herself murmuring as they stand side by side overlooking the village together, the wind shifting their hair about their shoulders.

"Yeah," Inuyasha says, sounding distracted.

His tone makes Kagome shift her gaze over to him but she finds that he's already staring at her. Before he would have turned away with a blush and started spouting some blistering nonsense in order to cover up the fact that he'd been caught, but now he lets himself look. It makes something in Kagome's lower stomach go tight. They take each other in for what feels like a bracketed infinity, the moment sacred somehow, and neither of them are willing to break it. Inuyasha takes a step closer and reaches his clawed hands down to gently collect her smaller ones. He brings her hands up to his chest, cradling them there, not once looking away from Kagome's eyes.

"I promise I'll protect you with my life." Inuyasha declares, his voice low and quiet and meant only for her.

Kagome takes an uneven inhale and her heart skips a beat as she realizes he's repeating the same vow he gave to her in her room the night her family was away at the hot springs all those years ago. It hits her then how utterly hers Inuyasha is, how devoted to her he was in the past and how he has remained that way since. It's his way of telling her nothing has changed. Inuyasha watches this epiphany play out on Kagome's face and his expression softens around the steadiness of his gaze.

"I will allow nothing to take you from me again, and I will never leave your side."

Shuddering in the wake of his oath, Kagome shuffles closer to him and finally says what she's always regretted never telling him directly.

"I love you Inuyasha," She watches as his pupils drag wide at her confession, "You will always have me, and I will happily spend the rest of my life with you to prove that."

Inuyasha slowly lowers his head until their foreheads touch through the hair of their bangs, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. Kagome feels a wave of peace come over her then that she finds she's quite content to drown in. She stays like that with him for another moment before pulling away just enough to catch his eye.

"My mother," Kagome hushes and Inuyasha instantly stills, "She asked me to give this to you."

Exactly as her mom did, Kagome extracts her hands from Inuyasha's and reaches for his face, fingers tender as they slide against the warm skin of his jaw. Panic flits across Inuyasha's features then, startled at being handled like he was something precious, and realizing he's horrifically unprepared for whatever is about to come next. Kagome's smile is nothing but fond as she tilts his head down enough so that she's able to lean in and deliver her mother's kiss to his forehead. Inuyasha's hands come up to wrap around her forearms, not to move her away but, Kagome suspects, just to have something to hold on to. His ears flatten under the gravity of the gesture. Kagome closes her eyes and remains there for another beat, before pulling away and lifting his face back up only to touch the tip of her nose to his.

"She also wanted me to tell you that she loves you," She murmurs.

Inuyasha releases a wet sounding exhale and attempts to move away -- overwhelmed by the rawness of all of this, but Kagome holds his face firm and presses on, wanting desperately for him to hear the rest because he deserves to know.

"She said she has always seen you as a son, and is proud to consider you family."

"Kagome," Inuyasha begs, his voice a wobbling mess as he nuzzles closer in defeat, unable to stand the depth of Mrs. Higurashi's gift to him.

After a long moment of them just breathing, he shifts his head and quietly slots their lips together. He releases his grip on her forearms so he can snake his arms around her middle, hands wrapping as far across her back as possible, before pulling her flush against him. Inuyasha keeps the kiss chaste -- utterly humbled. Kagome can only imagine what this must mean to him, and she hazards her mother must have known too.

They stay joined under the warm evening sky as the stars begin to shine through dusk's heavy golden canopy. The sun finally sinks all the way under the horizon, having delayed itself in order to cast as much light as possible onto the pair standing atop the hill -- presenting fate's masterful work to the heavens. A sudden gust of wind picks up around them, and it causes the two to sway a little. Hands clutching tight, lips molding softly, and hair floating around their heads as if submerged in deep water, they know nothing in that moment except each other.

Somewhere far beyond this world, a priestess -- no, an ordinary woman, looks down on Inuyasha and Kagome and smiles.

Kagome arranges the light summer quilt Sango lent her over the futon set in the back corner of Inuyasha's hut. She would have to do something (many somethings) in order to make this place livable. A shy glee erupts in her chest at the thought of decorating it, organizing a home for both her and Inuyasha to live in felt surreal to consider even in her own head. She used to daydream about this kind of thing, the fact that she finally gets to fulfill her fantasy -- that it's her life now, takes her breath away.

"Inuyasha?" She calls once she's finished fussing with the quilt, folding one corner down, ready to get into bed.

The hut is dark, the night outside is still, and the fireplace remains unlit so they don't overheat. Kagome tries to swallow the fear cloying up her throat. Ever since she spent a small eternity trapped in endless darkness with the Jewel of Four Souls, she finds she can no longer stand to be alone in the dark. Back in her time, it had to be either her mom, Sota, or Buyo sleeping beside her each night or she wouldn't be able to get any rest at best, and at worst she would descend into an anxiety attack. It wasn't until her grandfather had suggested installing a night light that she was finally able to brave the long nights alone, though she still prefers to have a warm body to cuddle. It was in moments like those that she'd longed for Shippo the most. Once she'd been able to sleep on her own she had the nightmares to contend with, and those always left her feeling as close to true panic as she'd felt when facing Naraku. There are no night lights in the Feudal Era, but Kagome figures she'll be okay as long as she has Inuyasha with her.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome says again, this time unable to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.

In an instant she feels a rush of air hit her as he drops to a crouch beside her, like he'd bolted to her from across the room.

"Kagome? What's wrong?"

She melts into him and he accepts her weight against his chest easily, strong arms shifting forward to box her in.

"Where were you?" Kagome hopes she doesn't sound as small as she feels.

Inuyasha stills against her for a beat before wrapping his arms around her completely, securing her in his embrace. Kagome accepts this improvement with a grateful sigh.

"Just checking the window." He pauses, then very carefully, asks, "Is...are you alright?"

He sounds worried, crap.

Kagome feels a stab of guilt for freaking him out.

"I'm fine," Kagome assures quickly, "Just, um, I-I'm ready for bed."

Cringing internally, Kagome wonders if that was convincing enough. With that sharp nose of his, she hopes he doesn't pick up on her lingering (but quickly diminishing) fear. How on earth could she convince him to sleep on the futon with her? Surely he won't object? Not after everything that happened between them today?

"Okay, well, I'll uh see you in the morning then," Inuyasha stutters as he begins to untangle himself from her and pull away --

Kagome's panic skyrockets, and before she can say or do anything, Inuyasha must smell the spike in her fear because he immediately winds himself back around her body.

"Woah hey," He hushes, becoming even more alarmed as Kagome all but crawls into his lap.

"I-I can't be alone, at night," Kagome struggles to explain as she takes shelter in his renewed embrace, "The darkness it --,"

She cuts herself off when she feels Inuyasha pillow his cheek against the soft hair at the top of her head.

"I'll hold you till you fall asleep then," He promises in a soft voice, as soft as she's ever heard him speak.

She can feel his words vibrate through his chest, and it calms her nerves some. Kagome wants to argue, wants to push for more -- sleep beside me, hold me all night -- but she doesn't. He doesn't seem to want that, even after promising her he'd never leave her side. Kagome's anxiety gets the better of her and it seals her lips shut. She settles in the circle of his arms and is resolved to be satisfied with this, at least for now, knowing she's much too shaken to negotiate with him tonight. Kagome knows without a shadow of a doubt that she'll wake up the moment he sets her down on the futon, but she doesn't tell him that. Hopefully she can fake being asleep well enough to fool his hanyou senses, and hopefully the knowledge that he's nearby will be enough to stop her from having a full blown episode. If she can hang on till the early hours of the morning, maybe the fragile rays of first light will be enough to cling to. Kagome can admit to herself that she won't be able to maintain this routine for long, but she hopes it lasts until she's plucked up the courage to ask Inuyasha, point blank and without room for misinterpretation, to share her bed.

Inuyasha knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, no way would he risk making Kagome vulnerable to any kind of attack so soon after getting her back. His instincts wouldn't have allowed for any other course of action, and on this front Inuyasha is in rare agreement with his youkai half. But he doesn't expect Kagome to share the same determination. He'd panicked earlier when he smelled how fast and how sharply her fear had spiked. Inuyasha vowed to himself at that moment to never allow her to feel that way in his presence again, not if he could help it. She had held on to him so fiercely, and still is even after hours of being in the safety of his arms. Its like she's afraid he'll leave again. This knowledge makes something in his chest shatter and his gut ache. Unable to stop himself, he rubs his cheek where it rests against the top of her head and takes a deep inhale, letting her scent soothe him. Each time he hears her heartbeat slow and she starts to drift off, he waits a few minutes before trying to lay her down on the futon. Without fail though she's yanked back from sleep every time, as if his touch is vital in order for her to rest. A part of him relishes in this level of dependency on him, his youkai half preening at the fact that his mate --

Inuyasha grunts and stands, unwilling to entertain any thoughts about that, and makes his way swiftly out of the hut and into the mild night. He's careful not to jostle Kagome in his arms too much as he lowers into a measured crouch, and launches himself into the air towards the roof. Landing effortlessly on the balls of his feet, Inuyasha pauses as Kagome sighs in her sleep and twists her fists tighter into the material of his han-juban. Inuyasha blushes to himself thinking about how he had all but tripped out of the hut earlier when Kagome started changing out of her day clothes and into a yukata Sango had lent her in front of him.

With a firm shake of his head he banishes that particular train of thought from his mind, and lowers himself down to sit on the angled roof. After a minute of cautious shifting, he gives up and lies flat on his back, arranging Kagome's sleep-pliant body so she's tucked snuggly between his arm and his side. He tells himself this is different than sleeping on the futon with her, that this isn't breaking any 'rules of propriety' Kagome used to always yell at him about.

Screw it, he thinks, if I get sat for this in the morning it will have been worth it.

Inuyasha tries not to think about how much he sounded like Miroku just now, and grumbles under his breath about stupid delinquent monks and confusing female sensibilities.

The stars are a dizzying pattern above him, the moon is a sliver in the sky, and Kagome is curled safely into his side with her cheek squished against his chest while one of her leanly muscled arms has thrown itself securely across his waist -- Inuyasha couldn't feel more at peace if he tried. Everything is as it should be. He hasn't felt rightness like this since...well, since Kagome left three years ago. A cool evening breeze floats over them then, shooing away the insistent press of the summer heat, and kisses their temples before moving on. Inuyasha lazily picks apart the different scents the wind carried -- sap from the trees in the forest, ash from the chimneys in the village, wet earth from the banks of the nearby river...he lets it all wash over him, one sensation at a time. He remembers Kagome caught him doing this once years ago, and when she'd asked him about it he'd told her it was kind of like how humans count sheep when trying to fall asleep. A self-soothing exercise is what she concluded it was similar too. Inuyasha didn't elaborate that the habit was an old one he'd developed during his childhood. Back when he was too weak to fight any of the youkai that hunted him, he'd find somewhere to hide and rock himself in time with his breaths, carefully combing through the scents in the air until he was sure the threat had passed. There had been a brief pause before Kagome asked what he could smell, no judgment or disgust, just innocent curiosity and a hint of fascination simmering in the umber of her eyes. No one had ever asked him about his sense of smell like that before. Inuyasha's heart had clenched in his chest, and it does so now as the memory unfolds before him only this time without the promise of pain. Reliving cherished moments of his time with Kagome used to only bring him anguish, but now...

Inuyasha turns his face into Kagome's hairline that's level with his nose, flares his nostrils, and proceeds to take a sleepy inhale. Her scent shoots straight up into his head and a sensation that feels bizarrely like dizziness makes his skull feel light, and his mind feel like its floating. Inuyasha attempts to turn away once the moment passes, but his body refuses to comply. Instead, before he really knows what he's doing, Inuyasha finds himself nosing down her forehead, over the bridge of her nose, past her slightly parted lips, and under her jaw. Kagome mutters something unintelligible in her sleep in response to all of his tender nudging (Inuyasha resolutely ignores the way it makes all of his insides go soft), but ultimately allows her chin to be directed up, exposing her neck to him. Something in Inuyasha flares hot at the action, and he's instantly compelled to guide his nose into the notch of skin between her neck and her jaw. This is what he'd been searching for.

Safe, something inhuman in his head rumbles, only here is safe.

Inuyasha couldn't agree more, Kagome had always been ineffable to him. He had known Kagome by her scent before he'd known her by her features, it's what first caught his attention when Kikyo's spell keeping him pinned to Goshinboku started to falter. Inuyasha hadn't realized it then, but he'd belonged to Kagome the moment she'd told him her name. Inuyasha smiles like a complete love-struck idiot as he remembers the way she had puffed out her chest and demanded that he say her name right.

Ka - Go - Me!

He allows himself to continue grinning like a fool against the skin of her neck because no one's around to mock him for it, and because it feels good to be happy. He's happy --

"Inuyasha..." Kagome suddenly hums, his name on her lips the sweetest thing he'll ever hear.

Inuyasha pulls his face back just far enough to take in her expression, and something glorious surges in him when he finds that she's smiling in her sleep.

Phew that was hella soft lol, lemme know what you thought down in the comments below if you'd like! I embellished certain moments a little bit to make them more dramatic bc i couldn't help myself, i hope you didn't mind! Tbh it felt so good to write inukag, like im not gonna lie, I grew up watching the show and it feels a little like coming home to get into these characters' heads. Ok I'm gonna go continue my re-watch of the show now xxx

Masterlist

#Every Tomorrow #thejamesoldier #my writing #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #inukag fluff #inukag smut #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #domestic bliss #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic

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duketectivecomics · 4 years

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Hey I was wondering if you know the official order of bruce gaining all the kids including harper, Barbara, and stephanie? I know its Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian but where does the other 3 and duke and cass fall in? Tia!!

So I’m gonna assume that you mean the order in which they get adopted, since finding First Appearances is one of the easier things to google for any character. (Getting First Appearance issues afterall is part of the reason some comics retain their value, so it’s usually well documented when a character first shows up. Side note: DCUguide is an excellent resource if you’re looking to comb through appearances for characters, although I’d also recommend asking for reading lists from other fans, since usually those have been curated down to essential storylines only)

I tried to provide actual issue #s where I could, but a lot of the time in comics, it’s usually something that’s dropped or hinted around or casually mentioned rather than outright boldly stated.

Also some of these characters span DECADES and their histories change depending on continuity. So I tried to account for that where I could.

But also canon is fake and everyone in fandom cherry-picks anyways so yknow. Keep THAT in mind too.

Before we dive into this, I wanna have a quick convo on what Legal Guardianship vs Adoption is.

While guardianship includes some of the same responsibilities as adoption, it also comes with a few key differences, such as allowing any living parents (also possibly any living relatives) to contest the guardianship. Adoption would make the child fully and solely the potential parent’s responsibility, and would nullify any legal ‘say’ that the biological parents may have. Also of note, is that guardianship does not allow the child in question a claim to inheritance unless the guardian specifically wills it to them, as there is again, a bit more of distance that is placed between the child and guardian, as more of a mentorship is expected to take hold. One way to look at it is that adoption is permanent (& usually a longer drawn out process bc of that), while guardianship can be more legally flexible.

With that out of the way, let’s start~

Dick: pre-flashpoint/52, it’s stated often that Dick was actually Bruce’s ward, that Bruce has legal guardianship over Dick. I know this is a nitpick and doesn’t matter bc it’s usually retconned/ignored in favor of Dick being adopted. But I think it’s a fascinating point of potential contention nonetheless. especially given the historical reason, that it was absolutely unheard of at the time for a single man to adopt a child, but no one would bat at eye if he was taking Dick in out of a sense of altruism & duty. Contract this with decades later, when he DOES appear to adopt Jason outright, which puts some friction in place between Dick & Bruce. and well, you’ve got a whole story & conflict to explore right there.

Barbara: Usually dons the Batgirl cowl after Dick becomes Robin (the only exception to that was The Batman (2004) cartoon and it was absolutely galaxy brain of them honestly) She has her own Dad though (idk if y’all know him? Jim Gordon? Yknow? The Commissioner?) so she doesn’t get adopted. She’s considered a core batfam member mostly in the sense that she’s been there so long and esp as she makes herself absolutely essential when she becomes Oracle. She has never, and will likely never be adopted by Bruce (bc again. W h e n is that gonna come up? When Jim dies? L m f a o)

Jason: pre-crisis it’s assumed from the go I guess? I could only find slight confirmation and ended up finding more info that there was a custody battle and that Bruce would won Jason back officially in Detective Comics #548. post-crisis, Jason’s history is redone, though & I remember his adoption being touched on, but could not for the life of me find a particular issue. N52/Rebirth it’s simply assumed from the go as far as I’m aware.

Tim: Batman #654. This was after his father died, though he’d been Robin at this point for at least a decade. For n52/Rebirth as far as I can tell he’s also been outright adopted by Bruce (though I think he’s parents were still alive but in Witness Protection? Idk. I haven’t read at all for Tim’s history there so take that with a heavy grain of salt)

Steph: another one who is not adopted (Crystal Brown is very much alive and taking care of Steph (barring the time Leslie Thompkins squirreled her away after faking Stephs death BUT)) She does show up pretty soon on Tim’s tail when he starts as Robin. Again, she’s considered a staple of the family because of how long she’s been involved with them. I like to think of her like Kimmy in Full House. She’s a Good Friend who’s Constantly Showing Up and is one of the family through mutual agreement on everyone’s part.

Cass: Batgirl (2008) #6, though like Tim, Cass had been Batgirl for nearly a decade at that point in continuity. She’s shown and stated many times that she considers Bruce a father/father figure and likewise that Babs, who had been mentoring her, was the closest she has to a mother. In n52/Rebirth, I have yet to see or hear about official adoption for her, but again. We usually ignore canon on that part anyways. I mean they made her into Orphan so uhhhh. Not super great yknow?

Damian: since he is biologically Bruce’s, it’s never really addressed as far as I’m aware (I have yet to read Damian’s appearances Altho he’s next on my Robin list). I personally think it’d be interesting to explore the fact that he was likely born outside of the country and what that means for Bruce gaining legal custody & whether or not Talia would contest that? I’m sure there’s probably SOME thinkpieces about it out there, but I’ll search for them on my own time eventually

And now we’re getting to *drum roll* Harper and Duke!

Harper: her appearances are mostly kept to the n52 runs, though with Tynion returning to Detective, it’s likely she’s coming back into Rebirth soon. She’s a unique case where, due to her abusive home life, she emancipated herself and took her brother, Cullen, with her. Neither she nor her brother were adopted by Bruce, and as far as I’m aware/understand, they’re fine with it that way. I know Stephanie was living with them at some point (it’s dropped in Batman & Robin: Eternal at least?), so I certainly think it would have been nice if DC also brought them into the fold like Steph. Just a couple of kids who are Really Good Friends with the family and continue to insert themselves in batfam business lmao

Duke: I actually addressed this fairly recently here! Duke’s guardianship (bc like Dick, Duke is not outright adopted by Bruce, likely to afford Duke’s parents the opportunity to regain custody should they recover from Joker’s toxin) its a little more up in the air at this point in Batman & The Outsiders. Since Bruce is very clearly taking both him and Cass away on globetrotting adventures. It would make things EASIER ofc if he is under Bruce’s guardianship. But given that it’s not really addressed, it’s led most of fandom to simply assume it instead. And really? Considering that DC themselves probably doesn’t realize that they’ve written themselves into this corner, it probably won’t be fully addressed or recognized anyways.

So to answer your first question actually: Babs, Steph, and Harper? Not adopted, likely never will be, but they ARE interspersed fairly regularly in the line-up. Everyone else? Varying degrees of being under Bruce’s guardianship if not outright adopted.

We’re all happy that they’re here, though!!! And we love and appreciate them ALL.

#batfamily #fandom stuff #asked and answered #silencespeaks10 #randywrites #today on: randy googles it!#ive read quite a bit of batfam stuff but there were some things i did have to google again to confirm #and as always i highly recommend reading for urself when you can!#but here's the best tl;dr that i can give for the time being!#long post #<- for mobile users OOOOF its long

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himbo-buckley · 4 years

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what are your thoughts on what maddie says about her and buck's parents, that they were "good people, bad parents"? bc idk if it's just me but I can't get my head around that lmao, I can't understand how they can still be good people if they're bad parents, the two just can't go together for me, so another perspective would be interesting!

Hello friend 🥰

Oh, that is quite a question, isn’t it? Damn I just got out of work but you’re making me think deep thoughts here…

I think that is actually a question were we cannot find a unifying answer to - because like you said for you being a good person and a bad parent aren’t compatible, but for me they are. And I think we’d first have to define what everyone thinks constituents a good person and what constitutes bad parents!

For me a good example of that is Shannon Diaz who, in my opinion, is a good person. She means well and she tries hard but she is quite frankly an awful mother. Yes, she was put in horrible situation after horrible situation and she broke on that - which is something human and cannot be begrudged - but she left her child for several years and while she did try to reconnect and she was learning, she wouldn’t haven contacted Eddie on her own. She came back because the opportunity arose not because she tried to get back to them. (She could have become a good mother but she never got the chance.)

In the same vain I think Bobby pulled a lot of shit back in Minnesota but he still seemed to be a loving and kind father - so my question to you, friend, would be: do you consider Bobby a good person (the Bobby prior to Season 1 mostly)? Despite being the type of person who went to work drunk and / or high and by this endangering others and himself? Because I don’t think so yet the show frames him as a good person despite his downfalls (and I am not saying being an addict makes someone a bad person but I am saying knowingly endangering others does) - and if you think someone cannot be a good person but a bad parent, can someone who is a bad person also not be a good person?

See, one thing I learned working with children is that some people just aren’t made to be parents, and I am not talking about my time with child services, i am talking as a kindergarten teacher. Some people are very nice and they try hard but damn, parenting does not come natural to them and I worry how this will develop in the future. Like one of my mom’s is severely depressed and she might have Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy which doesn’t make her a bad person - but a bad parent at times.

And now, this is were I make you regret asking me specifically about this topic (or maybe not, who knows what your interests are) because I do have a bit of an expertise in what constitutes good / bad parenting and I will talk about it at random whether I am asked or not (and hopefully my language won’t fail me as most of my theoretical knowledge is in german, so please excuse any mistakes in technical terminology because I have to find the english equivalents and you know all those untranslatable german words? Yeah. Someone finally figure out how to translate the difference between Erziehung and Bildung please because both cannot be education and also it doesn’t really fit either):

So let’s get into it, shall we?

What makes good parents?

First up: parental relationship and parenting capabilities: several years ago the german department of family, seniors, women and youth (BmFSFJ) released a paper on what skills parents need to become good parents. There a four main skills (and I hope I translated everything correctly):

child-corresponding skills (ability to respond to the individual needs and features of the child, be it in terms of recognising potential or setting boundaries or sth else)

context-corresponding skills (ability to recognise developmental opportunities but also hinderances for the child and acting accordingly)

self-corresponding skills (being able to reflect their own behaviour as well as being willing to learn new things; also ability to regulate one’s emotions)

action-corresponding skills (trust in ones own ability and effectiveness; being consistent, both in their own actions as well as in response to others actions)

You might have heard of Kurt Levin or Diana Baumrind or someone else doing research into parenting styles. Generally there are four main ones, which, if we use Baumrind, differentiate on the aspects of control and demand

(here is a graph from wikipedia on this)

(I consider this fairly self explanatory but I will get into it in a bit a little more, soooo)

Now of course parenting isn’t just about the parents and what they do - children also have needs (and yes there is a lot of overlap but I am doing this right, okay?)

To quote my government again (because the paper was actually quite good, okay?) children want autonomy (a chance to do things themselves), expertise (a chance to develop their own skills) and relatedness (that one was very hard to translate but this came the closest; the idea is children strive for social connections, a sense of trust in themselves and reliability)

Also Urs Fuhrer defined 5 basic needs children have which are:

feeling of shelteredness and reliable love (I won’t explain this further except: google Harry Harlow and try not to cry like I do every time I am reminded of this monster of a man)

physical security and intactness (self explanatory, right?)

individual and developmentally suitable experiences (yes, children need to be socialised but it needs to be based on the individual child and how it learns best and all that)

boundaries and structure (CHILDREN WANT BOUNDARIES!!!! ALWAYS!!! CHILDREN WANT YOU TO TELL THEM YES OR NO, they need adults to help them navigate the world! Part of feeling secure is having someone who will tell you no and don’t do this; boundaries protect from danger, they represent support and orientation, they protect someone’s dignity (both the child’s and the parent’s), they give something to chafe against on our way to adulthood (because listen, Erikson wasn’t wrong, a lot of development happens in adversity, we find out who we are in contrast to other people)

a secure attachment (most people have heard about Bowlby and his theory of attachment, right? There are several types, though we are born with certain abilities for attachment and then learn how to attach from our parents, we model relationships on this, attachment determines our feeling of security and our thrive for exploration as children)

And I’ll leave the theoretical at this and go on to talk about the Buckley’s now, okay?

(and try to figure out if any of this has an actual point, uuups)

As for the specific situation of Mr and Mrs Buckley, let’s first see what we know of them, okay? (It’s barely anything) (half of it is assumed)

they are both alive

they are (probably) still married

they warned Maddie about Doug (meaning they somewhat cared)

they weren’t physically abusive and most likely also not emotionally

they probably live on the east coast in Pennsylvania

Buck may still be in contact with them

Maddie considers them good people but bad parents

they accepted losing contact with at least one of their children

Maddie doesn’t want them to know about Doug

That’s it!

Now, I personally think they might be very conservative, possibly unsupportive of their children. They might have had plans for their children’s life Maddie and Buck didn’t agree with, they might have been the types to not listen to their children, maybe they worked a lot. Probably fairly impatient, possibly disinterested in their children. Not good at the parenting capabilities.

Based on their children’s issues I’d say authoritarian or neglectful parenting style (though not abusive because it would be a redcon of Maddie’s background), meaning most definitely unresponsive though I cannot make up my mind whether they were demanding or undemanding, as both these styles - even when not so bad they are abusive and / or endangering to the child - make insecure, dependent and unhappy adults (like the children turn into those once they grow up), which does kinda fit with Buck specifically, right?

Though tbh I don’t think the Buckley parents were that horrible. I know fandom has taken the idea and run with it, mainly because after three seasons we know virtually nothing about them aside from some throwaway lines and all the issues we see in their children.

Now, why do I say this?

One, Maddie is a fairly capable adult despite everything that happened to her and even being as resilient as she is, she still has too few issues for how horrible fandom thinks the Buckley parents are

Two, while Buck has a lot of issues, being cocky and having problems with intimacy and being a bit directionless and still needing a parental figure in your mid-20s doesn’t seem that uncommon to me? Like the only really deep issue I’d say he has (that have to be caused by something deeper) are his abandonment issues (and connected to that intimacy). And it’s been implied they are caused by Maddie leaving to go to College which does paint the picture that he doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents but honestly, that sometimes happens, right?

(Also, and this is where my professional background comes in, I don’t like how everyone jumps to the worst possible conclusions about them, simply because I feel it sends the idea that only if the worst things happened to you, you have certain issues which is wrong. Sometimes small things will trigger something way larger in us and that should not be invalidated.)

And okay, I am getting off topic again (but again, my profession lies here) but what I am trying to say is this:

I do think Mr and Mrs Buckley were bad at parenting because they demanded too much but gave too little (emotionally) and I don’t think Buck is really in contact with them but I also don’t think that makes them necessarily bad people. (just bad parents)

I think Maddie and Buck weren’t as close back when they were children as they are now (at least not after Maddie moved to College) because the Buck we know would not accept a sister he is very close to simply no longer having contact with him for three years without trying to figure out why.

I do think they can’t have been that bad mainly because of how good Maddie and Buck are. Listen, I believe in resilience and already being born with a certain personality and traits which shapes how our environment reacts to us, but which is also influenced and changed by our environment ! (Nature vs. nurture, ya’ll) Now I know I said we find and develop ourselves in adversity but not just. We also need someone to foster and support and reward certain traits or we lose them and this is especially true for being kind and heroic!

Buck especially has shown way to little anger or capability for violence for how the fandom likes to write his parents, which considering his general character and also the way he looks - just doesn’t work! (Because generally especially boys raised in abusive families emulate this behaviour and Buck just - doesn’t! Which considering how “fuck toxic masculinity” Buck is most of the time doesn’t make sense because being tall and buff would make the opposite easier for him and would make it the better strategy for survival, so this would be the behaviour he would have learned)

(unless our writers say fuck being realistic and fuck psychology)

His parents had to have done something right, because Maddie will have left for College by the time he was 12 / 13 probably and we know they consider this her abandoning him meaning they probably weren’t really in contact then and while the first years of your life ARE VERY important for who you become later (urgh, yes, I’ll admit it, Sigmund Freud, the most overrated theorist did get SOME things right) they aren’t everything and you develop for longer and also a young girl like Maddie would have been would have not been self-reliant and stable enough to raise her literal baby brother in a way that made him resilient enough to become the person Buck has become despite her leaving him twice

Not to mention: considering the person we know Maddie is - if their parents really were that horrible she wouldn’t have left Buck with them, she would have taken him with her!

ANYWAYS!

Okay, tbh, I have no idea if any of that answered your question, but I did spend nearly two hours on it so enjoy?

I really don’t have a good answer to your question because we really don’t know enough and what we know doesn’t fully gel with each other and urgh, I don’t know friend despite this being the one thing I actually have some knowledge on!

I’m not even sure any of this makes sense and I am so sorry about that! I was trying, friend, but sadly an answer eludes me

Guess I should have just ended after saying: we cannot find a unifying answer to this because we each have individual definitions of good and bad in regards to people?

(Now, for everyone who read all of this? I love you and thank you and sorry! Please have a great day while I go cry in the shower now because I this ask drained me and also Harry Harlow)

EDIT: I wrote attachment issues when I wanted to say abandonment issues, shit!

#omg someone messaged me am I cool yet #buck meta #maddie meta #buckley meta #911 meta #meta #I honestly think there is a bit more evidence in canon to support Eddie having abusive parents than Buck #911 #911 fox #evan buckley #maddie kendall #the buckley siblings #this ask messed me up a bit because I feel like I should know these answers but I don't #this is what I am supposed to be good at why do I not know this?#textpost #I am so sorry Anon I really tried #my meta

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notquitecanon · 5 years

Text

Clean Break // Marvel/Criminal Minds Crossover (reader insert)

yeah, no one asked for this, it’s entirely self-service bc I’m trash

______________

Early 2010

You slammed your go-bag down in your car, taking a deep breath to compose yourself. Logically, you knew it had been a bad call- physically confronting the unsub by yourself when he had a hostage. Bad Idea. Not to mention some other risky calls you had made lately...

But you pulled it off, getting the kid-safe and subduing the bad guy. Hotch didn’t see it the same way, not only had he pulled you away to scold you in private- but there had also been a yelling matching in front of part of the team.

As soon as the jet had landed, Hotch ordered you on two weeks suspension. You had arguments on the tip of your tongue, but the warning look Derek was sending you from behind Aaron told you to just accept it. This team was like a family, and sometimes families fought.

As you slid into your driver's seat you could still vividly feel the white-hot embarrassment of the entire team staring at you while you collected your things. The awkward “I’m sympathetic but you lowkey deserve it” smile from Spencer. JJ and Garcia promised to get lunch with you soon, and Prentiss offered to meet for drinks as well, which you politely smiled and nodded too knowing they’d be too busy with cases. Rossi had stopped you on your way out and told you to, “Get your head on straight.”

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the steering wheel with one hand and roughly turned the key to start the engine. My head is on straight, they’re just not willing to take risks. You bitterly thought as you drove out of the parking garage. As you merged into the street, you finally got radio signal- the speakers flickering to life with an all too familiar, “I am ironman” before merging to another later interview with the billionaire turned superhero, Tony Stark.

You flipped to the next station, flinching at the terrible techno beats before flipping it again, this station flooding your car with drawling, “he-done-me-wrong” country music. You flipped it back, another irritated sigh, “Iron man it is.”

“I can’t trust the military with my tech, obviously, but it has too much opportunity to just shove in a box. So the responsibility falls to me to use Ironman to save people.” Tony Stark explained you could here the self-righteousness in his voice. The profiler is you couldn’t help but scoff.

“Classic Narcissist with savior complex tendencies.” You remarked as you drove. You turned down the volume as you continued your drive, the suburb of Quantico slowly turning into bigger city D.C.

Finally, you slid into a parallel parking spot across from your apartment building. The drive made the red-hot anger turn into defeated resignment, you knew you made mistakes and Hotch called you on it- he wasn’t singling you out, even if he was a little harsh, in your opinion. You recognized you arguing hadn’t helped your situation, I dug this grave, now I have to lie in it. But I can lie in it with the nice bottle of wine Rossi got me for my birthday.

Resignedly, you started making plans for your two weeks as you rode the elevator up to your floor- you juggled thoughts of visiting your family back home, maybe visiting some old friends, briefly, you thought of starting an online dating profile and going on some dates. I should call and apologize to Hotch, he might have been harsh, but I definitely provoked him. You thought as you unlocked your apartment, quickly turning off your alarm before taking off your gun.

You looked around your apartment, all the lights were off, deathly silent, almost empty. Two weeks of this, I’m going to go crazy.

Four days later, you had officially run of out things to do. You had cleaned, cooked, tried new restaurants, shopped, rented movies, even read books that Spencer’s suggested list. You were going stir crazy- the Team was already on a new case according to Penelope, your old friends were all working, and your family was weirdly busy.

On the fourth day, you went to the movies, returning to your apartment at 9:30. Immediately, you knew something was wrong- as soon as you stepped into the apartment, you noticed the lights, all were off (which you knew you didn’t do) except one light in the living room. I know I unplugged that lamp.

You grabbed your gun off the entryway table, a million possibilities going through your head as you flicked the safety off and began stalking towards the living room. As you rounded the corner, your eyes landed on your intruder.

“That won’t be necessary, Agent.”

His voice was deep, confident. Your intruder was a tall, dark-skinned man, a black eye-patch matched the near floor-length black leather coat. He was wearing a black turtle neck, black slacks, and (shocker) black shoes- and was sitting in your favorite chair, only partially lit by the lamp beside him. Your trained eyes easily picked out the three guns he had hidden on him.

“Who the hell are you and why the hell are you in my house?” You growled, still not lowering your gun.

“My name is Nick Fury, director of SHIELD, and I’m here to offer you a job.”

____________

“So you want me to profile a billionaire, a former Russian spy, a SHIELD agent, and Modern-day Jekyll/Hyde?” You asked sarcastically after Director Fury explained his proposition.

“Possibly more. And then I want you to tell me if my initiative will work.” He nodded, you quirked an eyebrow.

“And will my opinion matter if I tell you something you don’t want to hear?” You inquired, carefully watching him for an answer.

“It will influence my decision, yes.” He nodded. He was a good liar, but you still noticed the subtle ticks. You ignored them.

“Why me? I have a whole team of talented profilers-” You started, thinking of Hotch and Rossi’s experience, Reid’s brilliant mind, Derek’s determination, JJ and Prentiss’s unique methods of profiling...

“No, your team’s first loyalty is to the Bureau, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi will never leave the FBI, we tried to recruit Dr. Reid out of college he turned us down, Jennifer Jareau gets too caught up by her family, Prentiss was a good candidate but not while her mother is still working, political agenda gets very dangerous. Derek Morgan is too headstrong, especially when it becomes to .” He paused, before nodding to you, “Additionally, you’ve got a good bit of experience with the BAU but haven’t been there long enough to be considered a security risk to SHIELD, also with the recent sanction, we’ve determined that you’re willing to take risks that the FBI won’t let you take. That what makes you attractive to SHIELD. The sanction also gives a convenient break to recruit you to SHIELD.”

It was like a combination of Hotch and Spence talking to at you, slightly completely overwhelming. “You don’t have to decide now, but here’s my card.”

And then Director Nick Fury was gone as quickly as he came. And you had some thinking to do.

______

“Hey, Hotch, I know I’m still suspended, but I’m just calling to update you- because well... well you’ll understand soon. I’ve made some personal decisions, and some things are going to happen soon, and I just wanted to let you know that it’s not because of my suspension. I just wanted to let you know that I’m not angry, and this isn’t a spiteful or rash decision.” You explained to the voicemail, almost relieved Hotch didn’t actually pick up. He’d ask questions that you couldn’t answer, but you couldn’t stress enough that you weren’t mad at him or anyone on the team.

Director Fury had officially stopped dealing with you directly, instead sending another supposedly high ranking SHIELD official. Agent Coulson had decided it was best if you didn’t tell your team about your transfer, that he’d handle everything (re: go above Hotch’s head and handle everything at a political level). While most FBI agents knew about SHIELD, Phil had stepped out for a moment allowing you to quickly leave the voicemail, which made you feel better about leaving your team.

“So, uh, yeah, tell the team to be careful. I can’t say anything more, but, uh yeah. Bye, Hotch.”

You clicked off the call, shoving the cell in your pocket. Phil stepped back in, as always followed by three agents. “Well, you are officially an Agent of SHIELD. I’ve sent Agents to your desk to pack it up. Agents will also pack up your apartment, Fury wants you working ASAP.”

You simply nodded, zipping up your go-bag. Ain’t no rest for the wicked.

_______

Meanwhile at the BAU:

Dr. Reid glanced up at Aaron Hotchner’s office. He’d been on the phone for an hour, pacing his office back and forth. “What do you think is going on?”

“No idea, but with that look, it can’t be good.” Prentiss thought aloud, glancing at the young doctor before watching Hotch through the blinds. Derek came up beside her, sipping at his coffee.

“Think it has anything to do with (Y/N)?” He asked, leaning against the desk. JJ, on her way back to her office, stopped by.

“We’ve been fielding so many calls from higher-ups. So I don’t think so, Strauss was pretty indifferent about (Y/N)’s suspension.” She said, lowly. Suddenly, Aaron came out of his office causing everyone to hurriedly go about their business- trying (and failing) to be inconspicuous as they stared after their supervisor who rushed out of the BAU.

“What was that all about?” Prentiss asked, staring after him.

“Uhh, guys?” Garcia called, approaching the other agents as quickly as the ridiculously tall orange heels she was wearing that day would let her.

Derek Morgan quirked an eyebrow, quickly concerned after noting the shock on Garcia’s face. “What is it baby girl?”

“So I was just checking on our absent friend, trying to see what she was up to and whatnot, and when I checked her facebook, (Y/N)’s page was deleted. And I know you’re asking, Garcia, why does this matter? I’ll tell you, because then I checked every other social media page she has- and they’re all gone. Her home phone is cut off and her lease was broken today. So either she’s Gone Girling us, or someone is trying very hard to make sure she doesn’t exist anymore.” Penelope listed off, words flying out of her mouth at a rate that was dizzying. She paused to take a breath, but Rossi had emerged from his office, standing against the railing that separated him from the rest of the bullpen.

“My bets are on them.” He announced motioning to the entrance. The rest of the team snapped their heads that way, all eyes widening at the posse entering. Four agents, two men and two women, were trailing behind a woman who appeared to be in charge. Hotch was hot on the head-woman’s heels lowly hissing something at her with an angry look plastered on his brow.

The entire team jumped up when the four henchmen (for lack of a better word) began rooting apart your old desk while Hotch was still arguing with the woman in charge. “Hey, Hey, you can’t just tear her desk apart, man!”

Derek was the first to argue, but they just ignored him, throwing books, personal items, and office supplies into boxes. Morgan flicked his eyes to Hotch, “What’s going on?”

Hotch didn’t answer Morgan, instead, using his size to try and intimidate the agent, “You can’t barge into my bullpen, and start packing up her desk.”

Spencer watched the tense interaction, but approached the other most experienced person in the room instead, “Who are these guys, Rossi?”

“SHIELD, I’ve dealt with them once or twice- but it never turns out good.”Rossi divulged, his eyes never leaving the SHIELD agents. While almost every FBI agent knew about SHIELD, not many knew that much. Everything about SHIELD was a rumor at best and classified at worst. The doctor’s eyebrows crinkled, remembering the recruiting agent that approached him at his first college graduation as he watched Hotch.

“You can’t pack up her desk and then ask us to pretend like she never existed! That’s one of my agents and this team deserves to know the terms of this transfer!” Hotch demanded, his voice loud and scarily determined. That was the voice that sent killers shaking, but this SHIELD supervisor didn’t waiver.

“She’s not your agent anymore, and contact has been severed at the orders of someone far above both of our heads Agent Hotchner.” She paused, watching her goons put lids on the three boxes they’d packed, “Now, we will be leaving. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.

”It only took them five minutes to erase every shred of evidence that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had ever stepped foot in the BAU. The only proof they had was memories.

Chatter immediately broke out amongst the bullpen, but Hotch stopped it with a simple sentence, “Meet in the briefing room.”

______

“....some things are going to happen soon, and I just wanted you to hear it from me first so I could tell you I didn’t do it because I was mad at you or my suspension... I just wanted to let you know that I’m not angry, and this isn’t a spiteful or rash decision.”

There was a pause in your voice, before you resumed, “So, uh, yeah, tell the team to be careful. Go out, save some people, and put some sickos away for me… I can’t say anything more, but, uh yeah. Bye, guys.”

With that, the voicemail clicked off. The team sat in silence, each person quietly processing the voicemail, every verbal tic, every pause, every quiet chuckle.

Hotch cleared his throat, “I got that voicemail as I walked into the BAU today, immediately thereafter I received calls from both FBI and SHIELD superior officers telling me the (Y/L/N) was being transferred to SHIELD. She has been ordered to maintain zero contact, and, as far as we know, will not be returning to the BAU.”

“Sadly, we don’t have time to argue with the higherups, because we have a case and it’s time-sensitive…”

So with heavy hearts, the BAU kept moving and tried to ignore the empty seat at the round table.

_______

yeah no one asked for this but Imma keep writing it until I’m tired of it

#marvel #avengers #criminal minds #marvel x reader #marvel x criminal minds #crossover #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #steve rogers x reader

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moonb-eam · 4 years

Note

oh nat, i know we've basically made you write the entire p&p au from eliott's pov with our asks but i just can't help myself, esp after seeing the last ask about the telescope scene-so here it goes: have they ever talked about lucas' past- how lonely he must've been losing his parents at a young age? bc he still refers to his aunt/uncle as mr/mrs banet,like they're family but there's a distance. also i love that eliott loves the banets in your au as opposed to the og darcy who hated the bennets.

ahahaha we have managed to cover a lot of ground with the asks but it’s okay darling!! thank you for your question 🧡🧡🧡 (this one also ran away from me a bit, so i’ve but it under the cut)

When Eliott first met the Banet family, he didn’t know what to make of them.

They were loud, that much was true. Bold and indelicate. Simultaneously warm and welcoming but also intimidating. They were clearly close, as evident from their interactions and the way the spoke to one another. Eliott could see shades of himself and Daphné in the way the Banet sisters and Lucas would be arguing one moment, petty and childish, then fiercely defending one another in the next.

Mrs. Banet frightened Eliott the most. Her strong opinions and bouts of cluelessness likened her to his aunt initially, a comparison that made him turn in the opposite direction whenever he saw her approaching. Mr. Banet was more of an an enigma, quiet and withdrawn, but with a shrewd, intelligent gaze.

But these were only glimpses into the Banet family. Impressions that Eliott gathered from balls, when he had nothing to do but observe the guests from a distance.

Then, Lucas agrees to move in with him, and Alexia tells him, You’re already family, darling, and Eliott finds himself in the middle of Beaufort’s kitchen with Mrs. Banet clinging to him and rest of the family watching on in amusement, and it hits him properly, in the midst of it all, that he is a part of this family now.

Their chaos is his chaos. Their ridiculousness and dramatics are his to bear.

The thought makes Eliott so wildly happy that he thinks he might cry all over again. He can see them together: the Banet’s, Lucas, himself, Daphné, Madeleine. One overly large, patchwork family, one that’s made as much as it is born. One that’s real and imperfect and so full of love.

So, when Eliott finds himself alone for a moment at their garden party, which Lucas keeps insisting is not a wedding even though it may as well be, and he spots Mrs. Banet walking towards the food table, he drains the rest of his wine glass, and subtly intercepts her.

“Eliott,” she says happily when she sees him, linking their arms together. “I was wondering when you were going to come to talk to me.”

Not so subtly, then.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Eliott immediately says, and it’s an old habit that makes him wince. He can practically hear Dr. Daucet’s voice in his hear.

Why do you think your instinct is always to apologize, Eliott? What are you apologizing for?

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Banet’s cheeks are pink and her eyes are glassy. She grins, and her smile is that of a woman much younger than her, teasing and girlish. “You are my son now, after all.”

The ease with which she says it stops him short. “Oh.”

She grips tightly onto his bicep. “That is to say that you’re a part of this family, my dear. You’re one of mine.” She inclines her head to where Eliott can see Emma, Manon, Alexia, and Lucas standing in a circle, their heads bent together as though they’re sharing a secret. “And that extends to your lovely sister as well.”

“Thank you,” Eliott says softly. Mrs. Banet pats him on the cheek, and both of their eyes are watery. “That means more than you know.”

“I think I know.” Mrs. Banet says, with a sad tilt to her mouth. “You know, when I first heard the news that my sister and her husband died, all I could think about was Lucas.”

Her gaze drifts to him as she speaks, to Lucas, who is wrestling his crown of flowers away from Alexia, returning it to his head and pouting when Emma says something that makes all of the girls laugh.

“All I could think about was that sweet boy, now left without a family. We never discussed it, she and I, where Lucas would go if anything happened to them, but I knew there was only one possibility. He needed a family. He needed a home.”

Eliott pictures him, his sweet and sensitive and blisteringly smart Lucas as a child, alone and adrift in the world, and his heart grows heavy. His ribs strain under the weight of it. “So you gave him that.”

When he turns to look at her, Mrs. Banet’s smile is melancholic. “I tried,” she says simply. “But I could only ever do so much. I was never a mother to him, nor was my husband ever his father. There’s no replacement for that.” Her fingers touch her mouth, gaze warm as she takes in her children. “But we all tried together, to become something like a family. There’s some of it I would do differently now, for all of them, but I think...I think we’ve done alright.” She rests her head against Eliott’s shoulder. “They’ve turned out wonderfully, haven’t they?”

Eliott pats the hand that still grips tightly to his bicep. “They have,” he agrees. Lucas' head turns, eyes searching in the crowd as though he can hear Eliott thinking about him, and when he sees Eliott with his aunt, his eyes widen, his mouth dropping open.

“Oh,” Mrs. Banet smirks. “He thinks I’m embarrassing him.” She waves at Lucas with her free hand. “Quickly, Eliott: laugh as though I’ve just said something horribly embarrassing about him.”

The thing is, Eliott realizes, Lucas hardly ever talks about his parents.

There was that moment at Montrose, when Eliott’s aunt was badgering Lucas incessantly about his background, and Lucas had mentioned that his parents were poets, and that they had little money. But aside from that, Eliott knows nothing about them.

He understands it, though. Eliott doesn’t speak about his father unless he absolutely has to. It aches to do so, like prodding at an old scar, and Eliott doesn’t want to ask Lucas to tell him anything that he wouldn’t be willing to share.

That doesn’t stop him from thinking about it, though.

He finds himself in the library one afternoon, carefully combing through the Demaury collection of poetry, searching for any volume with the name Lallemant on the spine. His search yields nothing, aside from distracting Eliott from what was supposed to be an afternoon of finally responding to letters that he’s been meaning to respond to for weeks, and it does nothing to satiate his curiosity.

Still, he makes the decision to wait. He will only ask about Lucas’ family if Lucas gives him an opening to do so. Eliott is patient, a quality nurtured in him by his mother, and with Lucas, he’s even more so. There’s no end to how long he’s willing to wait for him. For anything.

But as it happens, Eliott doesn’t even need to ask.

There’s one night in October when it storms: pounding rain and echoing claps of thunder. Forks of lightning that crack the sky.

They spend the evening in the drawing room, Lucas, Eliott and Daphné, gathered around the fireplace with pots of tea and plates of food. They play cards and Daphné wins every hand. Eliott tells ghost stories until Lucas tells him to stop because he’s bored, even though Eliott has a suspicion it’s because he’s scared.

Eventually, Daphné falls asleep, curled up under a wool blanket on the settee, her open book tumbling from her hands down to the floor.

Eliott folds the corner of a page down to save her place, then wraps another blanket around his shoulders, sitting on the floor with his back braced against the the corner of the settee.

Lucas eyes him from his armchair. “Is there room in there for me?”

In response, Eliott holds the blanket open to him.

Lucas sits between Eliott’s legs, leaning back against his chest and letting out a contended sigh when Eliott folds his arms around him, the blanket covering them both.

A cold nose presses into Eliott’s neck and he gasps.

Lucas giggles into his skin.

“You’re annoying,” Eliott grumbles, but he’s smiling, and Lucas must be able to tell without even looking at him because his hand comes out the blanket, flailing around Eliott’s face until it finds his cheek, then poking him.

“You love me,” Lucas says, sounding nothing short of smug, and Eliott bites at the tip of his finger.

But he can’t help saying it, after a moment, ducking his head to kiss Lucas’ cheek, to whisper in his ear just as another fork of lightning casts long shadows across the drawing room floor, “I love you.”

Lucas turns his head to meet him in a kiss, and Eliott can feel it everywhere when he shivers.

“I love you too,” Lucas murmurs when they part. He tucks his face back into Eliott’s neck, and Eliott shifts his hold on him, lifting one arm so he can stroke his fingers through Lucas’ hair.

Lucas lets out a happy noise, and Eliott smiles, pressing his lips to his forehead.

It’s so peaceful there, in the places where their bodies overlap, underneath their warm blanket, that it feels as though they’ve created a world entirely separate from the one they inhabit. The storm may rage and roar, but there, in the Demaury drawing room, exists only warmth and comfort.

Eliott thinks he could fall asleep like this, with Lucas in his arms and Daphné’s soft snores above them, warmed by the crackling fire.

It would be hell for his back, but it would be worth it.

“This is what it is,” Lucas says softly, and his voice almost too quiet to be heard over the rain against the windows, “to speak of longing between souls. We must have fallen from the same star, my dear, for I loved you before I ever knew you.”

Eliott slowly smooths his hand over Lucas’ hair. “That’s beautiful.” His thumb strokes down the shell of Lucas’ ear. “Where is it from?”

“My mother wrote it.”

Eliott lets out a long breath, resting his chin on the top of Lucas’ head. His eyes are fixed on the tall windows across from them, the world beyond them dark and cavernous, lit only by the occasional stark flash of lightning.

“There used to be manuscripts everywhere in the house,” Lucas says eventually. “From both of them. They would read them aloud constantly, and pore over a single line for hours. It’s why I never liked poetry, because it reminded me too much of them. That one in particular...I heard my mother say it so many times, I could never forget it. But I,” Lucas hands fist in Eliott’s shirt, “I don’t think I really understood it until now.”

Eliott's free hand finds Lucas’ under the blanket. He lifts them together, kissing the inside of Lucas’ wrist, nuzzling into his palm.

He closes his eyes, trying to imprint the words onto his heart.

This is what it is, to speak of longing between souls.

“They would have loved you,” Lucas continues, and there’s a subtle fondness to his voice that makes Eliott smile against the delicate bones of his hand. “I’m sure you could have spent hours talking to them about poetry, or about art.” He lets out a soft laugh. “I would have had to fight to get any of your attention.”

Eliott shakes his head. “Never,” he says softly.

Lucas tugs on Eliott’s hand, lowering them back beneath the folds of the blanket to rest on his stomach.

“We didn’t have a lot of money, but I didn’t realize that, at the time. They never acted like it. I don’t remember them ever fighting, or ever speaking about money around me. They were just...happy, I think. They were always happy.”

Lucas falls silent, and Eliott realizes that he’s crying, small tremors rippling through his back that Eliott can feel in his sternum. Immediately, Eliott wants to comfort him. He wants to wipe his tears and tell him everything will be alright, but in this moment, with Lucas picking at the edges of the oldest scar he has, Eliott doesn’t think its his place.

Eliott knows grief, yes, but he doesn’t know grief like this. So he stays silent, pressing his lips to the crown of Lucas’ head.

I’m so sorry, Lucas. A clap of thunder echoes in the distance. The rain continues to beat against the windows. It’s unfair, and that’s all we can say about it. It’s so fucking unfair.

Eliott doesn’t know how long they stay that way for, but it doesn’t matter. He counts time by how many passes his hand has made down Lucas’ spine, by how many shudders he can feel under his palm, by how many times Lucas’ fists unclench from his shirt, only to grip back onto it.

Eventually, Lucas shifts against him, turning his head away from Eliott’s neck, and his voice is a little more solid to say, “I was lucky, you know. There are so many others like me who lost their parents and had to be taken to an orphanage, or to homes with cruel people. The Banet’s, they...they’ve done so much for me. They’ve given me a family, and a home, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t-” He exhales softly. “There’s something missing in me, and it won’t ever be replaced.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Eliott tells him gently.

“I know,” Lucas says, and it sounds a little sad, but it also sounds like something he’s thought about before. Something he carries with him.

When the silence between them stretches out into minutes, Eliott tentatively says, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Lucas leans away from Eliott’s chest, sitting up and turning on the spot so he can face him. The blanket drops from his shoulders, pooling around his waist.

His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, his face is red, but he’s smiling softly as he cups Eliott’s cheeks in his hands, pressing their foreheads together and letting a sigh unfurl between them.

“It’s so easy for me to tell you things,” Lucas says. “Well, not easy necessarily, but it - it feels right.” He kisses Eliott, short and sweet, and it feels like thank you. It feels like you’re the safest place I know.

“It’s the same for me,” Eliott whispers. “I hope you know that.”

Lucas’ smile widens. “I do.”

They fire has died to embers, and with it, the warmth in the room begins to be taken over by the damp cold from the storm, so they make the decision to leave, having to try to wake Daphné a few times before bidding her goodnight, then making their way back to their own room, holding hands while Lucas wears the blanket like a cape.

It’s only when Eliott is sitting on the end of their bed, watching Lucas blow out the final candle on the mantlepiece, that he says, hesitantly, “I wish I could read her work.”

It’s too dark for Eliott to interpret the glance Lucas sends him, and he’s worried he’s overstepped, until Lucas steps towards him and says lightly, “You probably could. My father was only published in journals, but she had a book printed, years ago. I’ve never been able to find a copy, but I’m sure you could, with your,” he pokes Eliott in the forehead, “connections.”

“Would you mind?” Eliott asks, grasping Lucas’ finger and tugging on his hand, placing his palm flat over Eliott’s heart. “If I read it? If you would rather I didn’t, I’d understand.”

“No.” Lucas says softly. “I wouldn’t mind.” His thumb strokes across Eliott’s skin. “But thank you for asking.”

“Of course.”

“Her name was Hélène,” Lucas says. “Hélène Lallemant. But the book was published under the pen name Cezanne Olivier.”

The name gives Eliott pause. It tugs at something in his mind, a thin forest green spine and faded gold lettering, but he can’t be sure, not entirely, so he just nods, and says, “I’ll look for it.”

“Alright.” Lucas drops his hand from Eliott’s chest, kneeing up onto the bed next to him, then crawling under the covers, burrowing himself into the pillows.

“Come on.” His voice is muffled. “I’m cold and exhausted, and I’d like you to hold me, please.”

Without hesitation, Eliott goes.

His suspicion is confirmed the next day, when he ventures back into the library and finds that same thin volume. The lettering is faded, but not too faded so as not to be discerned, and Eliott sets it down carefully on the desk in the library, making a plan to return to it after he finishes his meeting with Maurice to survey any damages to the grounds from the storm.

But, when he returns, soaked from the light rain that continues to fall, covered in mud from walking the tree line, the book isn’t where he left it.

He checks the bookcases, on the chance that Madeleine may have re-shelved it, but cannot find it there. He checks the other tables, the drawing room, the study, and grows increasingly worried that he may have lost it somewhere, until he walks past the open door to the bedroom, and he sees Lucas in there, curled up on the window seat with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and an open book in his hand, one with a deep green cover and faint gold lettering.

Eliott watches him for a moment, the way his eyes slowly travel over each line, the way his fingers caress each page before turning it, before he smiles, then quietly turns back down the hallway.

#asks #anon #p&p au #hope you like it love 🧡🧡🧡

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eltanin-malfoy · 5 years

Text

Cliché

pairing : draco/pureblood-slytherin!y/n (gender neutral again!)

word count : 2.2k

warning(s) : mentions of petrification, (does that warrant a warning? idk. putting it here just bc) some anxiety

requested : yes, by @lespaceboi

a/n : sorry for taking so long w this one lol. school has been keeping me nice n busy. also, just so u know, it is my birthday tomorrow (29th oct), so i’ve been p busy w all sort of other stuff as well lmao. (feat. the slightest bit ooc draco and a bit of a rushed romance) also i didn’t mean to throw shade or anything, i just thought it would be funny to approach a story with this kinda commentary, lmk what you think!

taglist : @accio-taurus @acciodracoo @drawlfoy @war-sword @socontagiousimagines

Everything between the two of you was always as if out of a predictable sitcom. The misfit and the bully, almost immediately enemies. One on the wrong side of a prejudice and the other simply resisting it.

It started off with chiding, with unfriendly confrontation. Drama you couldn’t care less for. Eleven year old you didn’t need this kind of nonsense. You were studying, by the fireplace in the common room. Warm heat radiating onto your sweater covered frame, when cold steely eyes locked onto yours and walked over to you. “So, it’s true, is it?” “What?” “You’re a mudblood? Or at least one of your par-” “No. Are you done now?” “That can’t be.. That’s not what Daph-” “Daphne and everyone else just want to make up reasons as to why I don’t want to spend time with the rest of them.”

“You sure? You’re uh-”

“I’m sure. Just because I don’t believe you and all your.. cronies aren’t better than everyone else just for being pureblooded doesn’t me-” “Okay, I get it, I get it. You don’t have to act all high and mighty for thinking you’re better than us just because you sympathize with mudbloods.” “How dare you!”

And that was how it started. The mother of all cliches. You were rivals, enemies, whatever you want to call it. The animosity between the two of you only grew as time passed.

Your first year passed on in solitude. You tried your best to stay away from the preying Slytherins of your year. However, this was difficult considering each of your housemates were in pretty much all of your classes with you. The general bitterness between you and the rest of your house was clear to the rest of your year and so you managed to remain civil with everyone else. But that was the extent of any of that. Just polite smiles, nods and whispered words. Nothing more. And it was.. unpleasant. But bearable, so you didn’t complain.

Your second year was quite a bit more terrifying. The Chamber of Secrets and the Heir of Slytherin.. Mrs. Norris.. You’d heard the mumbles and whispers about Harry Potter being the guilty party, and you couldn’t help but believe them the slightest bit. The other houses seemed to turn against you the slightest bit but you strung it out, growing wary and hoping that the true culprit would be found sooner than later. But then the petrifications began.. and well.. it was scary, to be very, very concise. Students you’d known the past year or so, perky, bright ones even, were found frozen, basically. What was even scarier was no one knew what or how these attacks were occurring. Of course, the ‘heir of Slytherin’ was behind these attacks, but who even was that? You began to suspect something yourself.

It was too obvious. The person behind them couldn’t possibly as blatant as.. he was being. You were beginning to lose respect for him very steadily. One can only say the ‘m’ word a couple of times before you can’t help but wish to knock the living daylights out of them. Buying his place onto the Quidditch team was one thing, but acting as if it had nothing to do with his father’s money was just stupid. It annoyed you much too much.

And then it happened.

You were making your way back to your dormitory after lunch, taking a bit of a detour to walk alone and clear your head for a while. But then.. you noticed.. them.

The ‘brightest witch of your year’ (or at least that’s what you’d overheard some adults saying.. sigh.) and that one blonde Ravenclaw prefect you’d seen around.. on the floor, frozen as if they were made of stone. A large mirror in the bushy brunette’s hand. Any prejudice you’d held against either of them disappeared in that instant and your feet began scampering off, your hands trembling the slightest bit as you found the nearest teacher (Professor.. Vector, was it?) and told them what you’d just seen.

Of course, other members of the staff arrived in an instant, quickly taking off with the two to the Hospital Wing. You followed after them, this close to hyperventilating and just in general blowing your top off. You stood warily, being handed a bottle of Calming Draught as you took a seat nearby.

McGonagall came in soon enough, followed by Harry Potter himself (he couldn’t possible be the guilty party now..), in his Quidditch robes, gosh, and Ron Weasley. The two walked over to her bed and stared at her, touching her hands and looking shocked. Ron gulped audibly before Madam Pomfrey muttered something to the two of them and they looked over at you, their faces still solemn. Harry looked back at Granger, but Ron mouthed a ‘Thanks’ before doing the same.

You walked over to them and spoke and then... you finally managed to make your first proper alliance at school, or.. most people would simply call it a friendship, I suppose. A few of them, at that. All at once.

Malfoy clearly recognised this. And what used to be occasional shows of aggression turned into.. well.. an everyday thing. His two ‘rivals’ had gotten close and he was very, very annoyed. Very.

And time really did begin to fly. The long days you had turned into quick weeks and months and Harry defeated the ‘Basilisk’ and saved Ron’s sister and everything was alright. And you had good friends.

And an enemy. Ugh. Clichés are clichés for a reason, huh?

Third year began with its.. commotions. You were in the same Care for Magical Creatures class as Harry, Ron and Hermione, which was certainly great, but.. so was Draco (and all of his buddies, gross!).

There was everything with Sirius Black and Draco’s chiding and well… you’d had enough. Draco called Hermione that.. filthy word yet another time and Harry and Hermione had to hold you and Ron back before you actually just knocked his head in and broke his bones and-

Goddammit. You couldn’t take this anymore. Three years had passed and you were still struggling with Draco Malfoy and his pristine blonde hair and his blue blooded gait and his idiotic ego. Obviously, telling Snape wasn’t an option. And so you took it upon yourself. Why did you attempt to change someone so goddamn difficult? Who knows. We all do dumb things sometimes, right?

One night in September in the Slytherin commons, you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to a corner, much to the alarm of all his cronies.

“You need to stop.”

“Stop what?” “Being such a goddamn prat.”

His silvery eyes shimmered in the dim light and he began glaring down at you. “Says you, the friend of slimy Gryffindors, sympathizer of mudbl-”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Merlin!”

“Do all blood traitors think you’re above all of us whom are actually right or is it just the four of you?”

“Draco.. Just.. shut up.”

“What? I’m n-” “You’re just being a prick. You’re the biggest arsehole I know! I swear!”

“You are so-!” “The two of you need to calm down and clear out of here.” A third voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere. You looked up and were met with the piercing gaze of Dendron, the new merciless fifth year Prefect. Goddammit. Oh well, at least you were saved from getting a massive headache.

You walked away and your fourth year continued as it was. And all the foreigners arrived and… Harry.. well..

Trouble really finds him, doesn’t it?

And of course, Draco only grew more pathetic. Seeing him getting turned into a ferret was one of the highlights of your year. Your quarrelling was growing constant. You might have, on occasion, gone around looking to bump into him and get into a bit of a spat. It was a little entertaining, you had to admit, how very irritable he was.

One December morning, when the silvers of wintry frost had made themselves known on your window, you traversed around the castle with three of your closest friends. Harry had successfully completed the first task and there was still a long way to go till the second, but of course, the four of you still had other things to worry about, or not to worry about, I guess. It wasn’t long before you took their leave and headed back to your dormitory for your Transfiguration textbook, Hermione was willing to help you revise for the next test for once, and you weren’t going to miss out on such a great opportunity.

But alas! Someone else had a better idea. You were pulled to the side as you walked into the now empty Slytherin common room. Goddammit, this is another cliché of its own, is it not?

“The Yule Ball. Come with me.” “What? No, I won’t, Malfoy. You can’t ju-” “I’m trying to get Pansy jealous.. She’s-” “So what? I’m no-” “Come on, please!” “No! Why can’t you ask Daphne or Millicent or one of your own other friends?” “Because they all have dates! They’re all busy! Do you really think you were my first option?” You didn’t know why but that one sentence left a bitter taste in your mouth. “So, you’re telling me I’m your last resort?” “No! Come on! You have to come with me to the Yule Ball, I can get you nice dress robes. More exquisite than-” “Oh my god, Draco! Do you really think you can buy me too?”

He glowered down at you and you frowned right back.

“Has anyone else even asked you?” “... It’s none of your business.” “They haven’t, have they?” “It’s none of your business.” “Then why don’t you want to go with me?” “Because you’re a right arse! And I hate you!” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You couldn’t hate me.”

“Oh, please. Yes, I do. I hate you. You’re vile. And I’m surprised you don’t hate me either.” “I do what I have to do for the things I want.” “So going to the ball with me is something you-” “Just.. shut it. I swear. I don’t even know why I’m asking you. You’re so goddamn difficult.” “Why are you asking me then?” “Because Pansy’d get weirdly jealous of you. She didn’t like us talking or anything of that sort.” “Why? I thought she was like that with everyone.” “No.. she was sensible with other people.. but she said we.. had.. way too much chemistry.”

“.. This is some kind of joke, right?” “No.. it’s not. And I can’t help but..” He looked at you in a way which made your knees feel like they couldn’t hold you up much longer. “But believe it.” “But there-” “If you hate me so much.. then why do you keep staring at me all the time? Even try to look for me, don’t you?”

“N-no! I don’t!” Shit. “How would you even know? Doesn’t that mean you-”

He huffed. “Can’t you read between the lines?” “What are you talking about?” “I like you. That’s why she was jealous of you. She… knew.” You weren’t even sure why your stomach felt like it was about to turn over on itself and your cheeks felt so hot you were afraid they’d light up. “What? But-” “Aren’t people mean to those they fancy? Haven’t you heard of that?” “That’s not true! That’s just an excuse for-” “Shut up.” He blinked slowly, grey orbs tracing a path over your face. He took a step forward and closed the gap between the two of you. And then, for some weird reason, he leaned over to press a kiss to your lips. And for some even more absurd reason, you didn’t push him away. It was soft. And nice. And.. it was okay. Whatever this was.

But why was it? He was.. awful. Looking at him was alright.. but..

Maybe he could change?

And you didn’t realise how long the two of you just.. stared at each other. Smiled. You didn’t even register when your friends showed up and.. caught you.

“Y/N..?” Hermione called out, and you looked to the side immediately, snapping out of your gaze and seeing the three of them standing together. How long had they been there? Had they seen everything? Oh, Christ, this is another trope, is it not?

Ron’s freckled cheeks were pinking up furiously and Harry suddenly spoke up. “You were taking a while so we thought we’d check if you got stuck or something.. And I guess we were right.” Ron suddenly scampered forwards but Harry grabbed him by the shoulders again. “You’d best not do a thing to Y/N, Malfoy! I’ll knock your block right off, I swear it! Give you another black eye if that’s what you want!”

You reached down and fiddled with the tip of your tie. “Th-there’s nothing between us like that.. Not..”

“Not yet.” Draco completed for you, and you looked up at him, then back at the three of them.

“I mean.. we saw enough, Y/N.” Hermione took a deep breath. “And.. I’d say.. I was disappointed and all of that stuff.. but I can’t even say I’m surprised.”

Ron let out a sound of surprise. “What are you talking about? I knew Y/N-” “It’s all Y/N can think about doing nowadays, isn’t it? Getting on Malfoy’s nerves?”

The three of them looked at each other in solemn agreement before simply nodding over at you. And that was that. Being caught sharing warm breaths and blushing and everything in between. It was so out of nowhere and yet it was not.

Oh, Merlin. Enemies to lovers stories are so goddamn clichéd.

#draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x male reader #draco x gender neutral reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco #hp #draco malfoy imagine #hp imagine #romance #enemies to lovers

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