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#while getting flashes of his siblings finding him bleeding out
stressedanime · 2 months
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just woke up from the most heart wrenching dream about a possible will solace fic but i don’t think i could even bring myself to write it
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rainswept · 5 months
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hihi @kaeyas-beloved !! this was for the secret santa — i’m so sorry it was so late, i had some complications with my health that made it so i was unable to write. i hope you had a great christmas and new years!
blood. childe.
1k words. cw. mentions of drowning/death/violence (in the past)
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“One day, I’ll take you to my homeland for winter.”
Nestled in the stomach of the gray patterned bowl Childe holds is a steaming soup, tentacles and crab legs still simmering in a blood red sea.
Beneath the chilling blanket of the abyss he lies, frail and wounded and young. He scrambles to find himself — he hides his throat and bares his teeth — he gains a scar and is sure he’s killed hundreds. With desperation, he lashes out at anything that moves, whether he can see it or not. Sometimes he lands a hit. Sometimes he gets hurt. Sometimes he stumbles in the dark and awaits a blow that never comes.
Garnish and pools of oil bubble up beside it like a delectable hot spring, savory delights wrapped up in little pockets of half-translucent dew.
He squeezes his eyes shut tight. While he can still breathe, blood fills the gaps in remaining senses he has — a metallic taste on his tongue and a sticky thing under his fingernails.
“It snows a lot more than this.”
He cannot feel nor hear a way up, so he goes down.
The darkness settles around him until he no longer has any use for his eyes, and it seeps into mouth and drips down his throat until he can no longer draw breath. Drowning. The sting of his cuts gnaws at his skin and he wraps his fingers tight around the bleeding. Drowning. Drowning. Still drowning.
He sits down on the couch beside you, wood in the fireplace crackling and snapping as he settles. His fingers are bare, free of the gloves that separate him and the blood he spills, and they slip out from beneath the bowl so carefully it barely makes a noise as it settles down onto the wooden coffee table.
He brandishes his sword, spear, claymore, bow. He swings and shoots with a feral vengeance, and he blocks with desperation to protect. One day, he is afraid it will not be enough.
Teucer, Tonia, Anthon — his siblings flash before his eyes. Then you. You, your sweet words and your comforting embrace and your gentle touch as you wash the blood away from his skin. It is washed down the pristine porcelain sink without a second thought, and if a wound is revealed in the process, you bandage it wordlessly. What did he do to deserve that? This he often wonders, though he has never dared to voice it.
Your fingers wrap around his torso, and you place your head against the crook of his neck. His eyelids grow heavy.
People may look at Childe and think, above all else, he is a fighter.
He wouldn’t say they are wrong.
Like melting chocolate wedged between a graham cracker and molten-hot marshmallow — he did always like to make those — he sinks down into your embrace as if it’s the last time he will ever get the chance to.
To be an older sibling, a Harbinger, a lover, is to be a protector. And to protect, most often, you must fight.
He is a fighter — he always has been — that doesn’t change when he dons the codename Childe, or the title Tartaglia, and especially not when he thinks of his family calling out the name “Ajax”. Especially not.
He casts a nostalgic look out of the window. It glitters like forlorn stars scattered about the night sky, hazy memories and long-forgotten childhood dreams that are now realized to never have had a chance to come true.
Drowning.
You pick at your bowl, and he thinks you are humoring him. “Does it, now?”
He laughs. It’s a warm sound, not like the one he makes before a fight, no. It’s genuine, scattered stars in every crack in his voice like that of the ever-burning fireplace in the living room.
“Of course.”
Drowning.
Childe’s grip on his spoon tightens, and his eyes flick to the blooming bouquet, a proud centerpiece on the wooden dining table. He reaches out to adjust one of them that had risen out of the water.
...
Beneath the quelled sky when it’s cold is a myriad of memories, old and new, past, present, and future tangled into a flowering embrace despite the unchanging blanket of snow.
Seeds of hope of all kinds will bud or die, sprout up through the ice as it melts, prove that they are strong. They are steadfast, loyal, and resilient. Like him. Like the Tsaritsa, he hopes. Like his siblings. Like you.
Over and over again, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger had coaxed blood to spill by his hand. He had stolen it from warm bodies and watched as they grew cold.
He holds you closer as he takes a sip of the soup. Here, he is reminded everything he stands for — why he is still here in the first place. The warmth of your hand, the forgiveness of your touch, the light in his siblings eyes that he is making sure does not get stolen from them like it did his.
Blood, pouring from a wound until eyes grow dim and hazy; blood, the family he had and would spill his to protect; blood, carefully encapsulated in safe veins, blushing cheeks, flushed skin. Love. The warmth in his home, the hull of the ship, the blade of the knife, the seed of the flower. The reason why he survived the abyss, and the reason why he survives now. You cleaning his wounds and him making sure you don’t suffer any.
Love is a tender night like this, sipping on specialty soups, curled up in front of a fireplace as a storm rages outside; limbs tangled beneath soft blankets, fleeting kisses filled with affection. He sinks into your embrace and wraps his arms around you, head resting on your shoulder as you run your fingers through his hair.
Childe was always devoted to his life, his family, you. Everything he did was to protect something he held dear.
He didn’t regret a thing, for that meant you were safe, and he was too. Here, right now, taking breaths of fresh air one by one. Breathing. For once in his life, his head was above the water, and he wasn’t fighting with every ounce of energy to stay there.
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i’m sorry this is quite short, but i hope you liked it regardless! i’m not entirely sure how to write for childe, but i’ve wanted to for a while so i figured this was a good time to seize the opportunity.
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asexual-but · 2 years
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Key there I would like to become your first anon if you’d like
And here is my request
Crepus being reincarnated in our world and adoption the reader as his child and since the reader doesn’t have a good relationship with their father they see him as a real dad and the both of them get issekaied into Genshin and diluc and kaeya get their dad back with a god sibling
To Warm Your Hands, To Warm Your Heart
Quite the request you've got there! I've been writing and brainstorming it in-between my daily stuffs :)
Platonic!Crepus, Diluc, and Kaeya x Creator!Reader
Crepus, for his many self-admitted flaws, was still a kind man.
Crepus was sure he did his best for his sons, or as best he could. He ran the winery and the tavern to the best of his abilities. Still, he had regrets.
Never being awarded a vision, never becoming a knight, never getting to see either of his sons marry.
But, in one moment he was thinking over his regrets whilst bleeding out in Diluc’s arms and the next he was… fine? With a blinding flash of white light, he wasn’t in his son’s arms anymore. He was standing, perfectly fine, in an unfamiliar home, not in Mond anymore, that’s for certain.
Over a few days, he managed to piece together his new identity. Owner of an up-and-coming bar, still Crepus, but no longer a proud Ragnvindr. Whoever he was now, he had to find a way home. If he still lived, he would find a way home.
Should Barbatos will it.
No longer in Teyvat, the world lacked color like his home. Everything just that much duller, not lifeless, simply not as bright. Technology advanced far past what had been available to him at home. Crepus began to notice how much of his life in Teyvat was starting to grow fuzzy in his memory.
But that stopped when he met a new regular customer. A father and his child.
Every day the man would sit his child at the bar, order them a glass of water, and then disappear deeper into the bar while his child sat there uncomfortably and did their homework.
Drunkards. Crepus couldn’t imagine doing such a thing to either of his sons.
Crepus frowned. The child was Diluc’s age, or at least they would have been if it hadn’t been so long since Crepus last saw his son. They sat alone and uncomfortable at the bar every day until their father, drunk out of his mind, would retrieve them and bring them home. Crepus always prayed for their safety.
They spoke few words other than the meek “Thank you”s when Crepus refilled their water or offered them a snack. But slowly they began to grow accustomed to his presence.
And once they did, they spoke excitedly to Crepus, who always seemed to be listening with a fond smile. He offered them advice, and began to offer more non-alcoholic beverages simply to let them have more options than water and soda.
When it grew cold, Crepus offered them hot chocolate, even bought them some nice mittens to wear to school, which he noticed would always be on their hands when they walked in with their father.
Their father had no clue what he was missing. His child was brilliant, and here they were, closer with the owner of the local bar than with their own father.
Once they graduated from high school, they quickly got a job (before Crepus even had the chance to offer them one! He was so proud), and renounced their father who hadn’t raised them. They confided that Crepus was a better father anyway.
From that moment they were his child. No ifs, ands. or buts. Not that they complained when Crepus asked if he could refer to them as his child. They often accidentally referred to him as their dad anyway, so this just made it easier.
You and Crepus kept in close contact. Though you had no physical need for his parental help, you couldn’t complain when every day before Crepus started his shift, he texted you to ask about your day. Or when he made the worst dad jokes you’d ever heard. It was comforting given that your father by blood was one of the least caring people you’d ever met.
One day, you sent Crepus a screenshot from the game “Genshin Impact.”
His breath caught in his throat, tears filling his vision. That was Kaeya. Older for sure, but Kaeya, his son, his baby.
He started playing, needing more answers. That was Teyvat, that was his home and he couldn’t get there. How many people were playing this now? How many people were looking in on the lives of the people of Mond? Of Liyue? How many people were looking in on the lives of his sons?
You often bragged about your dad playing the game, though he didn’t play often.
One morning, when you awoke, it was to the rolling fields of Mond. Your father standing next to you, bewildered. He led you, ecstatic you, to Mondstadt. Everyone who was out and about was terribly confused.
That’s… that’s late Master Crepus… and The Creator??? Their Excellency looked ever so pleased to be there, but Crepus only seemed concerned…
Crepus realizes now that you were familiar. All this time, the kid abandoned by their blood father had been his God. And Crepus had just… adopted you???? It was turning out to be a very stressful and confusing day for poor Crepus.
People staring at you in awe was really weird, but you were excited, if not feeling a little shy now. But you felt safe with your dad. This was an excellent dream, you were so excited you could just burst.
Until you realized that your dad’s hair had changed from a bright ginger to a blazing red… And now someone had pushed Diluc to the front of the crowd… and there was another voice shouting for someone to “find Sir Kaeya.”
Diluc hesitated. The Ley Lines held memories, they could simply have leaked but… that was The Creator…
Diluc stepped forward, taller than his father, broader than before, a tired, haunted shadow to his expression. Suddenly weak…
“Dad?”
Diluc’s voice trembled with emotion, and was barely above a whisper. Crepus just brought his son into a hug as you stood by awkwardly. Before you had just laughed at the coincidence that your dad and Diluc’s had shared a name, an odd one at that but….
Before you could ponder too long, Diluc was on his knees at your feet, one of your hands held is his. He was trembling, and the sight of such a powerful person seeming so… fragile… it made you shiver a bit. Diluc’s shoulders were shaking in barely contained sobs.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I.. I don’t know what I’ve… what we've done to deserve this, but-”
Crepus cut off his son with a hearty laugh.
“You’re just lucky you never made them lose a 50/50! That would have been some divine retribution!”
Diluc looked absolutely puzzled as you and Crepus laughed. His cheeks tinged with red as he was clearly not in on the joke. Not only did the statement confuse him, but how casually Crepus referred to you. Before his death, Crepus has been very pious, he never would have been so bold as to clasp a hand on your shoulder as you pulled your hand away from Diluc…
What exactly happened between you two?
Diluc is far less chill about the “God is my little sibling” thing than Kaeya is
Once he stops being very stiff and reverent around you, he starts doting on you
First of all, you are still his god, and then you’re his youngest sibling so, no, you don’t get to complain about the expensive things he keeps giving you
Kaeya also spoils you, however he prefers bringing you out to explore Mond as his gifts
Which is why he is no longer allowed to be your bodyguard, despite being one of your first vessels
But no matter what, you never leave Mond without one or both of your brothers
They might not be able to repair their relationship, maybe not fully, but they both love you and want to be there to protect you
Diluc and Kaeya both have to admit that you’re more important to them than their… we’ll call it a squabble
Both are very affectionate with you
Many hugs are had
Although, if you need someone to talk to, you’re better off going to Crepus
Even though all three of them are very busy, Crepus is the only one who really listens, and also the only person who can really empathize with you about missing your home
But Diluc is also a pretty alright listener
Kaeya is just good at guessing what’s wrong lmao
All-in-All excellent brothers to you :)
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kingkatsuki · 1 month
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Oh Jo... Jo i have it all plotted out Jo.
Genya doesn't ever formally introduce you to Sanemi. Mostly because the first time you actually see and meet Sanemi he is yelling terrible shit in Genya's face, and threatening him to get the hell out of the demon slayer corp and it makes you see RED.
However, you probably know more about Sanemi than any of the other Hashira because Genya talks about him NONSTOP. And while you are madly in love with genya you wish he would just... give up on his brother. Give up on trying to be the strongest for him because it's clear his brother doesn't want him there.
"Siblings are supposed to take care of one another. Kamado told you that Genya."
But no matter what the conversation is, Genya always defends him so you're always at a loss.
And then the next time you formally get to have a conversation with Sanemi he's come to your home in the rain, kneels before you with a heavy heart and head to tell you that Genya is dead. And there's nothing left of him.
and you scream and shout and throw punches that feel like tickles to the wind hashira. You tell him you hate him. Tell him he should feel guilty, should feel all the pain and hurt he's feeling now. that he deserves it for ever speaking to the only family he had left in that way. and the nail in the coffin.
"I wish it had been you."
And of course Sanemi, still on his knees before you, never looking at your tortured angry grief filled expression only replies with three words.
"So do I."
and then there's a flash forward five years later where Sanemi comes back to your home to visit for the five year anniversary. And of course you've grown by then and you feel regret for the awful shit you said to him. So you allow him to stay for tea and to sit in the garden under the Wisteria tree you planted in Genya's honor.
And Sanemi learns of your love for his brother. how pure and real and deep it was for him. How lucky his brother was to experience a love like yours and so young too.
And you've always had a bleeding heart, especially when you look at Sanemi's face and into his eyes. he looks so much like him, like the only man you've ever loved. How could your heart not soften for him?
And for the first time ever, you're able to see him the way Genya always saw and spoke of him.
And slowly but surely... you find pieces of him to love as well. Not like how you loved Genya. Never. No one could ever replace him in your heart. your soul belongs to him.
But...you can't help how much... brighter the world feels when Sanemi is there helping you in the garden or fixing leaks on your roof. Because in essence... who else but Genya's brother could understand the immense pain of losing him?
And besides...two broken hearts together are better than one.
Oh my god Marq but please😭 just the thought of helping each other heal, and it’s like you know you’ll both never truly get there but it helps?
I just picture a moment where you finally think you’re okay? And you’re out shopping, something completely mundane— until you see sunflowers and the thing that used to fill you with so much joy is practically a trigger to you now. Because Genya used to buy you sunflowers— he used to say you reminded him of the sun. So you find yourself breaking down in the middle of the busy shopping street and you have no idea where to go so you just run— and for some reason you end up outside the Shinazugawa estate, and Sanemi is home.
And you don’t expect him to invite you in so easily, to sit you down at his kitchen table and wordlessly lay a warm mug of matcha in front of you. He waits for you to stop crying, doesn’t try to comfort you and doesn’t utter a word. But he offers you a piece of ohagi when you feel like you have no more tears left to cry.
“Do you ever just… miss him?” Your throat is raw from crying so hard, the top of your yukata soaked with tears.
“Every second.”
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lizzy-innet · 10 months
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Little hunter
DNI - NSFW, K1NK, Ageplay, anything that isn’t child friendly
Warning : slight gore, cussing, cannon typical violence. Panic attacks
Description : you’ve been hunting with them winchesters for some time now. Maybe you can’t keep a secret as well as you thought. Your a little, and they find out.
6/12/2014
It was meant to be a easy hunt, werewolf, less then 2 hours out from the bunker. asked if the Winchester boys could come ‘long, better going together then alone. Best to have a partner.
So they joined.
I was staying in a motel in the area, cheap, but decently clean. They met me there, later that night we left, guns loaded with silver and knife’s because can’t be careful enough when hunting.
Especially with those two, caregivers the both of ‘em.
Joy.
Two caregivers and a little, what could go wrong? Never, never will I ask that again, because everything went wrong.
“There are 3 of them!” I shouted, element of surprise going down the drain as I shot one. The other throwing me back as I crashed into the table behind me.
That shit hurt. Vision geting blurry as I aimed my gun towards the wolf that was walking over to me. Dean shot it before I could.
“You good?” He asked as I got up. “Mhhm” he received nothing more then a groan “where number 3?” I questioned as Sam walked in the room “dead”
“Awesome. Now time to get this pig ass splinter out of my side” one of the table legs had buried itself into my side, only a few inches deep. “Lucky me” I rolled my eyes and I pulled on it. Using my hand to stop the bleeding as a passed them my lighter. “I’ll be in the car”
Dean immediately glared “don’t you dare get blood in baby”
“Uh huh” I said as I went to go get the first aid kit, grabbing a bottle of beer from the trunk as I poured it on, better then having it infected, adrenaline was still pumping so it would be a while before I really felt it. Atleast my luck hasn’t run dry yet.
I started stitching it up as the boys came out.
“Motel or bunker?” I asked, wincing as the adrenaline started wearing off as Sam helped me stitch my side back together.
The two looked at each other before shrugging, “motel” do siblings always say things at the same time?
And that’s when shit went wrong. They found the suppressants.
“What the hell are these?” Dean asked, he sounded angry, Sam was next to him looking at me then back at the pill bottle, containing small light purple pills, little suppressants.
“I-uh-how-uhm” I couldn’t even piece together a full sentence, taking a step back as I looked down.
“your a little?” Sam asked, shock clear in his voice.
“What- I-” there were arms around me, I probably would have fell flat on my face if Sam wasn’t hugging me.
There were tear streaming down my face. They must hate me now, I lied, I’m a gross, disgusting, little. Who the hell likes littles?
My eyes were flashing a light purple, I forgot to take the dam suppressants this morning. Dam it.
The walls were closing in, my throat felt tight, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t breath, there were blurred out voices, they sounded upset.
Theyhatemethehatemethehatemetheyhatemetheyhatmethehatwmethehatemetheyhatemetheyhatemetheyhateme
There gonna leave and can’t breath, I can’t breath.
There were hands around me, voices, footsteps. It was to bright, to loud.
There was a hand going down and up my back, I could feel someone breathing against my ear. There were more voices, less blurry this time.
“Just breath… just breath.. it’s okay..”
It was Sam’s voice, his hand rubbing my back as he held me.
Warm, he felt warm, I nuzzled my face into his neck, tears streaming down my face. Warm and safe.
“That it.. just breath sweetie.. just breath.. your doing great”
I just stayed there, listening to Sam mutter as I drifted off.
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drmaliceoffcial · 4 months
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To generate interest in my book, I've decided to share the first two chapters of Dr. Malice for free today!
Take a read and tell me what you think!
In the summer of 1989, the sleepy little town of Midway Falls, Virginia is plagued with bizarre power surges, missing people, and violent murders. Teenager Cammy Karnell finds herself at the center of it all when her brother vanishes without a trace. Determined to reunite her family, Cammy with help from her Galaga playing best friend Billy Brown investigate the bizarre occurrences going on in Midway Falls. As the rumors of government conspiracies and haunted arcades fly, the two teens come face to face with a supernatural force unlike any other in the heart of their local small town arcade. Now tasked with helping the ghost of a dead game developer remember his past and overcome his own inner demons, Cammy, Billy, and the entire population of Midway Falls are about to have the foundations of their lives rocked forever.
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June, 1989
“So you think I'm stupid, huh?”
A young girl rode with her older brother in his beat up red Honda Civic. The radio blared Young MC's “Bust a Move” as the two drove down through the downtown streets. The sun was setting, it was warm outside. Kids were walking down the street towards the same place the siblings were heading.
It was summer vacation, and the kids of Midway Falls were ready to have some fun.
Nick laughed, “That's what Dexter told me! He said there’s a ghost of an old man haunting Ant’s and snatches stupid little nerd kids like you straight into Hell!”
“Nick, I don't believe any of that for a minute,” the young girl said, brushing her fingers through her strawberry blonde hair, “I'm not a little kid anymore.”
“You don't believe it started bleeding out of the screen?”
“Dexter is an idiot, of course he’d believe garbage like that. That's why you hang out with him.”
“And who do you hang out with, Cammy? Huh? Huh? You're too big of a dweeb to have friends.”
Cammy huffed, “I have friends.”
“Yeah? Name one.”
“Billy is my friend.”
“Hardly counts, he’s a total dweeb. Then again, maybe that’s why you hang out with him!”
“Why don’t you keep your eyes on the road?”
Nick finally shut up and trained his eyes on the road again, singing along badly to the radio. Cammy was already getting a headache from him, but she was hoping once they got to the arcade she wouldn't have to deal with him much.
Their father was out of town on some fancy business trip. Their mother was working late, helping shut down the school before summer vacation was in full swing. Nick was going to the arcade with some of his friends, but mom insisted he couldn't leave his little sister at home. So he was forced to bring Cammy along against his will. She didn’t really want to come along with him either, but she didn’t have a choice in the matter either.
As long as she stayed out of his way, she'd be fine.
Nick sang along loudly as he punched her none too gently in the shoulder. She groaned and adjusted her glasses, already wishing she could jump out of the moving vehicle.
Finally, the car pulled up in the parking lot of a run down strip mall. Ivy snaked along the brick walls, threatening to consume them entirely. The neon lights glowed brightly on the front of the building, displaying “ANT'S ARCADE”. The “E” in “ARCADE” was flickering in and out periodically, appearing like the flashing light of a club. Other kids Cammy recognized from school were already going in. She was excited.
They got out of the car and strutted into the building. The arcade was full of kids playing on the machines, running around and watching others get high scores. Music was blaring while machines beeped and flashed bright colors. Just watching it was a thrill. Cammy couldn't wait to jump into the middle of it all.
“Shit.” Nick said, reaching into his pockets.
Cammy scowled, “You know mom said not to swear.”
“Shut up!” Nick shot back, “I forgot my quarters at home!”
“Well, sucks to be you then.”
Nick looked at her. His eyes trailed down to the purse hanging from her shoulder. He started smiling evilly.
Cammy took a few steps back, “Oh no you aren't! You did this the last time! I'm not giving you my quarters!”
“Fine then. I'll take ‘em!”
Nick snatched Cammy's purse off her shoulder, digging through it. Cammy cried out and tried to take it back, but he held it out of her reach. He pulled out all the quarters he could find and dropped it on the floor.
“Thanks, dork!” He taunted as he ran off to join his friends at the Operation Wolf cabinet, some stupid shooter war game Cammy had no interest in.
She picked her purse up off the floor and groaned. Nick had taken all of her quarters and left her with nothing. Now she couldn't play any of the games. She'd just be stuck here watching everyone else play for the next few hours.
Except...
There was someone she could talk to. Maybe he'd help her.
Cammy walked through the crowded rows of kids playing the games, reaching the front counter. An overweight balding man ran the counter, wiping down the surfaces and exchanging dollars for quarters. He wore a purple shirt with the arcade’s logo and mascot on it. His cargo shorts jingled with the sounds of quarters. When he saw Cammy, his eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face.
“Aaay! If it ain't Cammy!” He greeted her heartily, “How ya doing? How's your parents?”
Cammy smiled back at him weakly, “I'm good. They're good. Yeah. Umm... Mr. Ant, can I ask a favor?”
Mr. Ant perked a playful eyebrow, “Your brother stole your quarters again, huh?”
Cammy giggled awkwardly, “Yeah... I tried to stop him but he's too tall and held my purse out of my reach.”
Mr. Ant chuckled as he reached into his cargo shorts and pulled out a handful of quarters, handing them to Cammy, “Big brothers will be big brothers. If I see him taking your quarters again, I'll be sure to give him a firm talking to.”
Cammy grinned, taking the quarters and shoving them in her jean jacket pocket, “Thank you Mr. Ant. You're the best!”
“Go have some fun, kid,” he said to her, waving her off. She bounced away, looking for an open game to play.
That was a problem. All the games were full with kids waiting in line to play. Especially the newer games, like what Nick was playing with the pretty graphics and full colors. Cammy sighed as she walked towards the back of the arcade, where some of the older games were. There were less kids back here, but there were still quite a few taking up most of the cabinets. She'd still have to wait until her turn to play. 
One of the kids was playing at the Galaga cabinet with a few of his friends. It was Cammy’s friend from school; a pudgy redhead kid named Billy Brown. Billy had just died in Galaga and was putting in his initials when he suddenly let out an angry yell.
“NQC beat my high score!!”
His friends gasped at the scoreboard. Cammy glanced at the screen to see Billy's initials, "BMB" had dropped to second place. At the first place position were the initials “NQC”. Cammy remembered hearing about Billy playing for almost ten hours straight to beat the previous high score that was previously held by NQC. Just a few days ago, he finally did it and claimed his title of number one high score on Galaga. But looking at the scoreboard, NQC had beaten that record by almost two thousand points.
The mysterious NQC held the number one record on every single cabinet in Ant's Arcade. He or she was an urban legend among the regulars at the arcade. No one ever saw them in action. No one, at least from Cammy's school, had the initials of NQC. Even skilled players couldn't come close to the same scores as NQC. Billy was one of the few who had accomplished it, and he only held it for maybe 72 hours. 
“When I find NQC, I'm gonna give them a piece of my mind!” He shouted, “I can't believe they beat my high score already!!”
“I guess they're just that good,” one of his friends said, in awe at the score.
Cammy walked away from the group of boys to the very back of the arcade. Even though she was friends with Billy, she didn’t want to interrupt his game. Instead, she walked further back by the bathrooms in the corner, where one of the lights was out, leaving the corner dark. There, partially obscured by the shadows was a free cabinet. No one was playing it. Cammy approached it, looking up at the marquee. The bright red light glared down at her, illuminating the title of the game.
DR. MALICE
She had seen this game in passing when she had come to the arcade, but she never played it. Mainly because her mom told her to never play scary or violent games. And with the blood red marquee and dark cabinet design, it certainly looked like both of those.
But she just had her thirteenth birthday last month. She was a big girl. She had watched Children of the Corn with her big brother and only had nightmares for a week. She could handle anything!
The screen displayed the company name and title in fancy pixelated graphics. An animated sprite of a doctor ran across the bottom of the screen, chasing little green aliens. The screen read:
COYOPP INDUSTRIES INC.
PRESENTS
DR. MALICE
INSERT 1 COIN TO PLAY.
Cammy approached the cabinet. It was quite the intimidating machine; nearly twice her size and certainly thrice her weight. The bright red accents on the dark indigo finish seemed to glow with an almost alien-like power. She noticed there was a severe imperfection on the right side of the machine. The top part of the cabinet’s side was broken, slightly exposing the inside. It drew her curiosity even more, since she had never seen the inside of an arcade machine. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a quarter, pushing it into the coin slot. She placed her hands on the joystick and buttons, feeling an odd static shock as she did. She blamed it on her shoes building up static electricity from running across the carpet. 
The game took a few seconds to load up, before it came up with a new screen that read:
LEVEL ONE:
DESTROY ALL ALIENS.
Her character was loaded into what looked like a laboratory. The graphics reminded her a bit of Street Fighter, one she had seen her brother play with his friends, but wasn't allowed to play because it was “too violent”. It also reminded her of Legend of Zelda, a game she would play on her brother's NES behind his back. She moved the character between several maze-like screens. One button threw a syringe, the other was a dodge button. The remaining two buttons seemed non-functional. It was easy to get the hang of.
As she entered a new room, a green alien was in the middle of the space. It turned and started charging. Quickly, Cammy disposed of the alien by throwing the syringe. It promptly exploded into rainbow colors, which she found rather charming. As she moved through the rooms, she cleared out a few more aliens and completed the level.
CONGRATULATIONS! YOU BEAT:
LEVEL 1.
As the next level loaded up, a little cut scene began to play. It was the doctor character approaching a table with an apple sitting on it. The doctor took the apple and ate it. As he did, text popped up below the scene.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A DOCTOR EATS AN APPLE?
Cammy raised an eyebrow at the odd question. Just as she was about to question it more, the doctor on the screen exploded into rainbow colors. The text changed to an awkward delivery of a joke.
HE'D PROBABLY EXPLODE OR SOMETHING. APPLES KEEP DOCTORS AWAY AFTER ALL.
Cammy found herself giggling at the dry humor. Yeah, it was kind of stupid, but she found it charming. It was just her kind of humor.
Once the cut scene completed, level two loaded up. It was more of the same with slightly more challenging enemy patterns. This level introduced a small puzzle section. It was a block pushing puzzle, something Cammy was very good at. Since it was still an early level, she had no problem navigating the blocks and getting her character through the room. Once she destroyed the last alien, the game congratulated her again and loaded up another cutscene similar to the first. This time, it featured two aliens in the middle of a conversation.
WHAT DID ONE ALIEN SAY TO THE OTHER?
I HAVE NO IDEA. I DON'T SPEAK ALIEN.
The stupid joke had Cammy laughing out loud. She was ashamed to say she found these silly jokes funny, but she couldn't help it. She didn't think such a scary looking game would have such a great sense of humor.
She ended up playing through quite a few levels, each one getting progressively more difficult, but always rewarding her with a cute cut scene joke. It was challenging. She lost a couple of lives, but she was rising through the levels quickly. In fact, a few of the other children had taken notice and were watching her play, cheering her on. Wanting to seem cool to everyone, she put in her best effort and began to show off.
“She's a natural!”
“How did she get so far in that game? I only got to level five!”
“Woah, you go Cammy!”
Cammy was smiling as she played. Everyone in the arcade was impressed with her skills. She knew she could conquer this game with no problem. Just as she was about to take out an entire room of aliens, a voice from across the room yelled at her.
“Why's everyone watching this dork play?”
Cammy was suddenly pushed from the cabinet by a pair of strong hands. She nearly fell on the floor, but managed to catch her balance before tumbling over. She looked up and saw her brother now standing at the cabinet. She watched in horror as her character was swarmed by aliens and she lost her last life, all thanks to her brother screwing her up. 
GAME OVER.
Everyone was actually on her side and booed and hissed at Nick for ruining the game. Nick, being the jackass he was, didn't care.
“You guys really watching a girl play this stupid game?” he asked, “Betcha I can get to level thirteen on one quarter, no problem!”
Nick gloated more before he popped in a quarter, one of Cammy's quarters no less, and started a new game. The level loaded up again, putting Nick in a room with an alien. Not expecting to immediately face an enemy, Nick’s character was attacked and lost his first life. The kids started to laugh.
“Uh, uh, I'm just getting started,” he said nervously.
Cammy was entertained by the comedic timing of his death. Though in the back of her mind, she could have sworn there wasn't an enemy when she loaded up the first level. 
Nick tried again, killing the first alien. He moved to the next room and was bombarded with three aliens. He managed to take out two before the last one got his character. He was already on his last life. The audience of children were snickering at his failure to even get halfway into the first level.
“I'm just getting started! Cammy had beginner's luck!” he insisted.
Once again, he loaded up the first level, killed the first alien, then moved into the next room to kill the three aliens. He moved into an empty room. Nick chuckled to himself as he moved the character through. But once the doctor reached the middle of the room, a hole opened up under him, and he disappeared.
YOU HAVE FALLEN INTO A PITFALL.
Nick was flabbergasted. The other kids continued to laugh at Nick's failed attempt to outdo his little sister. Cammy raised an eyebrow. Now that definitely hadn't been there when she played. 
GAME OVER.
Underneath the game over was a sentence that almost seemed to be written in a snarky way.
YOU AREN'T THE SHARPEST KNIFE IN THE DRAWER.
ARE YOU?
The laughter of the other children turned even louder at reading this. Nick's face turned red with a combination of embarrassment and rage.
“Did this piece of garbage just call me stupid?!” He demanded, backing away from the machine.
Cammy snickered under her breath, “Well, it confirmed what we already knew.”
The other children cackled at her snarky remark. Nick clenched his fists, glaring at Cammy before he turned back to the machine. He went around to the side of it, where the top part of the machine was partially broken. Breathing in heavy breaths, Nick shouted.
“YOU'RE THE STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!”
He drew back his leg and kicked the side of the machine hard enough to cause it to wobble. The already broken side of the machine came loose, falling out and right on to Nick. The sharp side cut his face, causing him to pull back and cover his face in shock and pain. He shouted expletives as he tried to get his face to stop bleeding.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON BACK HERE?!”
The other children, hearing the voice of an angry adult, scattered like flies, leaving Cammy and Nick alone by Dr. Malice. Mr. Ant stomped towards them, his face contorted into a scowl. He saw the broken arcade cabinet and the cut on Nick's face and immediately made the connection.
“What do you think you're doing, punk?! Tearing up my machines?! Those cost money, y'know!” Mr. Ant scolded the boy, “You gonna pay for the damages you caused? Cause I sure don't want to have to call your parents and tell them you broke one of my cabinets!”
Nick said nothing, just held his face and glared at Mr. Ant. 
Mr. Ant stepped closer, speaking in a threatening voice, “What do you have to say for yourself, son?”
Nick looked down, clenching his teeth and his fists. He managed to croak out a very weak “Sorry.”
Mr. Ant sneered, “Get out of my arcade before I call the cops. Punks like you aren't welcome.”
Nick looked like he wanted to argue, but being face to face with the much larger, much scarier Mr. Ant left him speechless. He quickly darted away, holding his head down so none of the other kids would see him. The bell on the door tingled as he left.
Mr. Ant heaved a tired sigh. He turned back to Cammy, who still appeared shaken by the whole thing, “You alright, kid?”
Cammy nodded slowly, “Yeah, I'm okay, thank you.”
Mr. Ant went to pick up the side of the cabinet and try to put it back on the machine again, “Can't believe you two have the same parents. Ain't no way that little brat is related to you.”
Cammy shrugged, “I'm sorry about him.”
“Ah, don't apologize on his behalf. You're a good kid. You shouldn't have to put up with the likes of him.”
Mr. Ant was trying to put the side of the cabinet back into place, but the harsh kick from Nick had dented it in a way that it wouldn't fit properly. He swore under his breath. Cammy picked up on this and approached him.
“Are you okay, Mr. Ant?”
Mr. Ant looked down at her, his face contorted in frustration, “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I'm alright. It's just this cabinet belonged to a very close friend of mine. It's one of the few things I have to remember him by.”
“So my brother kicking it was like an extra kick in the gut to you, huh?”
“You could say that, yeah.”
Mr. Ant reached into his pocket and produced a roll of duct tape. He looked at Cammy, “Hey, you mind taping this for me while I hold it in place?”
Cammy nodded as she grabbed the tape from  Mr. Ant. She carefully taped the broken side to the front and back of the cabinet, being careful not to wrinkle the tape. As she helped Mr. Ant, she managed to get a good view of the inside of the cabinet. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before; a tangle of wires and circuit boards connecting into a large CRT screen. It was very alien and almost a bit unsettling to see what went on behind the scenes of the games. Dust was kicked up from the inside, causing her and Mr. Ant to sneeze. It was almost like no one had touched the inside in over a decade, not even to repair it. Once she was done, Mr. Ant let go and the side stayed in place. It wasn't pretty with the damages on the top, the dent in the side, and now the ugly duct tape holding it together, but it was better than the entire inside of the cabinet being exposed for children to mess with.
“It'll have to do until I can call a maintenance man,” Mr. Ant said, “Thanks for your help, Cammy.”
Cammy smiled back, “You're welcome, Mr. Ant.”
Despite all the damages done to the cabinet, the game itself still seemed to be in working order.  Mr. Ant decided to stick an “OUT OF ORDER” sign on the controls anyways, likely to prevent other kids from damaging it further. Cammy was disappointed she couldn't try the game again, but she understood.
“Listen, for all your help, I'll give ya a few more quarters to play,”  Mr. Ant said, handing her another handful of quarters, “I'll make sure your brother stays out of trouble until it's time for you to go home. Now go have some fun.”
Mr. Ant waddled away, his cargo shorts jingling with quarters, leaving Cammy alone with the game. As she stared at the imposing cabinet, she couldn't help but ponder over what had just happened. How had the difficulty suddenly spiked when her brother played it? Where did all the extra enemies and traps come from that she never ran into? Did the game somehow... Change itself for her brother? Could games even do that? Surely they couldn't...
Cammy stared at the screen. The demo of the game played quietly.
...
What the...
Maybe she was going crazy, but for a split second, Cammy thought she saw the demo glitch into something else for a moment: a screen full of glitches that seemed to be forming some kind of pattern. Two black voids empty of any data seemed to stare back at her, full of some sort of malicious feeling. But just as quickly as she saw it, it was gone again. It left her feeling uneasy and nauseous, like someone was angry. Maybe not at her... 
But at someone who had done wrong.
Feeling anxious, Cammy turned her back on the machine and quickly went to the other side of the arcade, far out of view of the Dr. Malice cabinet. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she suddenly felt as if someone was watching her every move. She decided to distract herself by playing some of the two player racing games with the other kids at the arcade, which was lots of fun. She quickly forgot about the incident with the Dr. Malice cabinet and focused on enjoying herself.
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Midnight rolled around at Ant's Arcade. Mr. Ant slowly ushered the kids to the front door as he started closing down the arcade, bidding them a goodnight and a safe drive home. Cammy was one of those kids. As she walked out the door with the other kids, she saw that her brother's red Honda Civic was gone from the parking lot. She gave a frustrated sigh. She'd have to see if Mr. Ant would let her use the phone so she could call her mom to come pick her up.
Just then, a pudgy ginger boy squeezed between other kids leaving the arcade. Billy Brown ran up next to Cammy, looking out of breath. He waved at Cammy excitedly.
“Are you walking home?” He asked, “I can walk with you!”
Cammy agreed, as she knew it would be safer to walk with someone rather than alone. She said goodbye to Mr. Ant and strolled down the street with Billy. Other kids were walking back to their homes, but since Cammy and Billy lived on the outskirts, they had to walk further than everyone else. Eventually, they were the only ones on the street. The orange lamps lit the dark suburban streets, bathing everything in a warm, industrial glow. Billy was a very talkative kid. He talked about movies, games, and how he was going to practice even harder to defeat the mysterious NQC. 
“Who do you think NQC is, Cammy?” he asked.
Cammy shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. But I'm sure they're one of the best players in the entire city. Maybe even the entire state.”
They walked in silence only for a little while before Billy spoke up again.
“I saw what your brother did to that machine,” he said solemnly, “What a jerk. And he left you here? Total dweeb. Him and Dexter and all their friends are a bunch of dweebs.”
Cammy chuckled, “Yeah, they are. I wish Nick never met Dexter, but I can't really stop them from being friends.”
“Dexter's the biggest jerk. I wish I was bigger and stronger, and then I can beat him up myself!”
They walked along. The only sound in the night was the occasional car passing by. They came across two lone vending machines, the low hum of their light breaking through the quiet night.
“Hold on, I wanna buy a candy bar.” Billy said, approaching the machines. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar, putting it into the machine. The machine rejected the dollar at first, spitting it back out.
“Rats.” Billy said as he put the dollar back in. It once again spit the dollar back out, making him sigh, “These things never take my dollars!”
With a little more patience, Billy managed to get the machine to accept the dollar. With it, he punched in the numbers for a candy bar. As the machine began to eject the snack, there was a sudden surge of light before everything on the street turned pitch black. Billy screamed in fright while Cammy jumped back, startled at the sudden darkness around them. Just as quickly as the power went out, it came back on. Billy was holding on to the vending machine, looking terrified out of his mind. He locked eyes with Cammy and chuckled nervously.
“I uh... That wasn't me who screamed like a little girl!” he assured her as he tried to look strong by puffing out his chest.
Cammy looked around, her nerves a bit frayed, “More power surges. There’s been a lot lately.”
Billy distracted himself by grabbing the snack out of the machine. He looked out in the distance over the hills and fields to a well lit collection of buildings. Tall smokestacks rose into the air, spitting out smoke into the otherwise clear night sky. The harsh lights made the industrial area intimidating and unwelcoming. On the side of the largest building was a sign with a company name, both in English and Japanese:
JOUZU APPLIANCES AND ELECTRONICS MANUFACTURING.
“My mom said it’s because of that factory they built last year.” Billy said, “She said something about they’re taking all our energy! I voted against it last year but they still built it! Or something like that. I don’t know. I stopped listening ‘cause she started ranting about the government.”
Cammy remembered her parents talking about a factory that was being built last year, and how so many residents of Midway Falls didn’t want it built here. But the government of the town went ahead and okayed the building anyway. It only started production a few months ago, but already it seemed to be causing problems. Most notably with the frequent surges that plagued the power grid. Lots of residents were getting angry. Some had even begun protesting outside the factory’s doors. But it was a fruitless effort. Cammy didn’t really understand why the adults were so riled up by it, but she agreed the surges were annoying and scary.
The two continued on at a faster rate this time, startled by the power surge. They reached the entrance of their neighborhood, where only the low hum of the street lamps cut through the dead silence of the night.
Cammy looked up, checking over her shoulder.
“What's wrong?” Billy asked, already digging into his candy bar.
“Did you hear that?”
“No. What is it?”
“It sounded like... Something heavy. Like it was being moved across the pavement.”
“I didn't hear anything.”
Cammy paused, trying to listen over the buzz of the street lamps. She didn't hear the noise again. Perhaps she was just imagining things. 
“Sorry, I think the power surge freaked me out a little bit,” She said, continuing to walk.
“That's okay,” Billy replied with a chocolate covered smile, “I can take out anyone who tries to mess with us. I promise!”
They had finally reached Cammy's house at the end of the street. Billy finished off his candy bar and waved goodbye to her. The front porch was decorated with flowers and old rusting iron chairs. As she approached the porch, she was about to knock on it. She was startled as the door swung open and her mother April stood there, her keys in hand and in her pajamas. She looked down at Cammy, her expression partially obscured by her glasses and messy brown hair.
“Camellia! My goodness there you are!” she cried, taking her in a tight hug, “How did you get home?!”
Cammy, startled by the affection, spoke into her mother's shoulder, “I walked home with Billy.”
“Oh thank goodness, I was just about to come get you!” April said, bringing her inside the home, “To say I was worried when Nicholas came home without you... Well, that would have been an understatement!”
As they entered the kitchen, Cammy saw Nick sitting at the dining table. He had a bandage on his face and seemed to be avoiding their gaze. He looked ashamed. The kitchen was filled with the scent of cigarette smoke, overpowering the nice flowers that sat on the counter.
“Mr. Anthony left me a message on the answering machine,” April said, her tone suddenly becoming serious as she turned towards Nick, “He told me everything Nicholas did at the arcade, including pushing his little sister and stealing her quarters. Not only that, but he came home smelling like cigarette smoke again!”
Nick didn't look at them.
“Nicolas Robert Karnell, you better apologize to your sister right this minute,” April demanded, her tone slipping into that threatening mother tone, the tone all moms used when they wanted you to know you had really screwed up. 
Nick hesitated, refusing to look up from the floor. He finally spoke, sounding none too sincere, “Sorry Cammy.”
April didn't look particularly happy with his tone, but decided to turn away and speak with Cammy, “Camellia honey, will you please go to your room for the rest of the night? I need to speak with your brother alone.”
Cammy quickly left the kitchen, going upstairs to her room. For the rest of her night, she stayed upstairs. As she moved around from the bathroom to her bedroom, she could hear her mother yelling at Nick, asking things like what was wrong with him, why he thought that was okay, was he doing it to impress Dexter and his friends, so on and so forth. She barely heard a peep out of Nick during the scolding. Finally, once Cammy turned out her lights and got into bed, she heard the sound of Nick's footsteps stomping up the stairs and into his room across the hall. He slammed the door hard enough to shake the walls. There was no doubt about it, he was grounded for a good few weeks, maybe even a month or more.
Cammy breathed a sigh of relief. At least Nick got a comeuppance for his poor behavior tonight. She snuggled into her sheets and fell fast asleep.
That night, Nick struggled to fall asleep. The cut on his face made it difficult to lay on that side of his body, since the pillow was pressing into the wound. The harsh scolding he had received from his mother also wasn't helping. He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. He sat up and checked the clock on his night stand.
1:35 AM
Nick swore under his breath as he tried yet again to lay on his side. The cut hurt too much to put pressure on, so he returned to laying on his back. He closed his eyes and started to drift off.
Sniff sniff...
What was that weird smell?
Nick sat up again. His room was empty. He checked the clock on his nightstand again.
2:11 AM
Nick laid back down again. He swore he smelled something. Like... Something mechanical and coppery. Kind of like the smell of change. He felt... Oddly paranoid. He couldn't place why, but he was finding it impossible to go to sleep. Maybe it was all the yelling he had endured from his mother. Maybe he was feeling... Guilty.
Nick closed his eyes again. When he opened them, he was laying on his side facing the clock. Through his grogginess, he saw something... Odd.
  :     AM
Maybe another power surge had happened during the night while he dozed off and reset his clock. He didn't worry too much about it and dozed off again. He woke up again, feeling... Uncomfortable. He checked the clock again, and found a rather unsettling sight.
8:88 AM
Was the clock broken? That definitely wasn't right. As he sat up to reach for it, he froze. In the corner of his eye was something at the foot of his bed. Something... Tall. Solid. Unmoving. Nick turned, slowly, terrified at the prospect of someone invading his room. He faced the intruder head on.
It was an arcade machine, turned off, completely dead.
To say it startled him would have been an understatement, but he quickly started to laugh it off.
“Okay, you guys got me. That's really funny,” he said with a weak laugh, “You can come out now Cammy, I know this was a prank.”
As he stared at the machine, common sense got the better of him. How in the world would his petite sister get this giant thing into his room? Much less up the stairs and through the doorway?
How did this thing get into his room at this hour of the night?
Just then, Nick jumped as the marquee of the machine suddenly flipped on. He was bathed in a bright red light, illuminating his entire room. He looked down on the floor where a power cord from the machine was sitting.
Completely unplugged.
Nick dared to look up at the marquee. In stark red pixelated letters read the title.
DR. MALICE
A noise started to reverberate from the machine. A deep, synthy bass noise that rose and fell, almost like the breathing of a human. 
“What... The... Hell…” Nick breathed, his voice catching in his throat.
Another noise came from the machine. This time, it was a voice, deeply compressed and bit-crushed. It spoke quietly, but just loud enough for Nick to hear it. It chilled him to the core.
“You… You think you're above the consequences?”
Nick started to say something, but felt as if his voice had been snatched from him. It was as if his throat was full of electrified needles, preventing him from speaking. His whole body became numb, like he had lost control of everything.
A deep, almost sadistic chuckle came from the machine, “Oh, you're gonna shut up and listen to me, boy. You've had too much time to talk. But I know just what you'd say anyways.”
The screen on the arcade machine flared to life, filled with strange, glitchy patterns. The glitches seemed to form two black holes on the screen, shaped like gouged out human eye sockets. They stared directly into Nick, seeing into the deepest recesses of his soul.
“I know your kind, Nicholas Karnell. I know what you're all about. I've seen your memories. I've seen the horrible things you've done, just to fit in. All the people you've hurt... Just to feel like you're somebody. Heh. Your kind never changes. Even after so many years.”
Nick's heart raced, thumping in his chest so loud, he could hear it in his ears. His body was soaked with sweat as he faced what he assumed was Satan himself in the form of an arcade cabinet. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to beg for forgiveness for kicking the machine. He wanted to fall at Cammy's feet and apologize for everything he had done to her. He wanted to change his ways right then and there.
But because his voice was gone, he was helpless to do anything.
The machine spoke again, the eyes on the screen narrowing into enraged slits, “You only wish to hurt the little guy. People like your sister, the so-called nerds... People... Like... Me.”
The screen turned off, but the marquee continued to glow. Another bit-crushed evil chuckle sounded from the machine. Something started to glow in the corner of the screen.
No...
Something was coming out of the screen.
A hand, a vaguely human hand, grabbed onto the edge of the controls, pulling itself forward and out, revealing an arm wearing some kind of surgical glove and white sleeve. Another hand came out of the opposite side of the screen, similar to the first. Both hands grabbed the edge of the controls and pulled with it a head full of dark, messy hair, shoulders wearing a white coat, and a chest... A chest with three distinct black spots, coated in red pixelated words that read “ERROR”. It was a man... But it was definitely not fully human. The form glitched and crackled with electricity, smelling like an electrical fire combined with the coppery scent of quarters. The voice spoke again.
“Well... Nicholas…”
The head of the... Man? Whatever it was looked up at Nick, its eyes obscured by a pair of thick glasses. It had no mouth. Only a nose and potentially eyes hiding behind the spectacles.
Wait... It did have a mouth.
No...
Where the mouth should have been was the start of a split that circled around the entire head. It was full of nothing but garbled, corrupted coding and glitches. The split opened wider, seeming to form into some kind of twisted and demented smile. The voice spoke, relishing in his fear.
“Who's the little guy now?”
The "mouth" opened wider, exposing more of the nightmarish nonsense inside as the figure grabbed Nick by the ankles. A jolt of electricity shot through his body, paralyzing him from head to toe as the monster from the cabinet slowly dragged him towards the machine. Adrenaline shot through Nick as he managed to flip over on his stomach and grab the foot of his bed, holding on for dear life. He tried to scream for Cammy, his mother, anybody, but his throat was filled with even more electrifying pins and needles than before. A sharp pain shot through Nick's side, causing him to let go of the bed frame. He was dragged into the screen of the arcade machine by the terrifying creature, disappearing from sight.
Silence. The machine sat still for a moment. The marquee slowly powered down, leaving the room in complete darkness. As silently as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving no trace of itself or the young boy it had just taken.
The clock on the nightstand read:
3:59 AM
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hoakaikapo · 4 months
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LABYRINTH - Clarisse La Rue x Unclaimed! Daughter of Poseidon OC
a/n: this is a little snippet from my ff that’s on my wattpad. only chapters 1&2 are released so far, 3&4 are planned to come out this week.
warnings: fighting, blood, mentions of alcohol
———————
“You alright there, hotshot?” A familiar voice asked.
Sienna’s eyes roamed the person’s body: brown skin, muscular arms, curly brown hair, dark brown eyes – the image of Clarisse La Rue appeared in front of her. The Ares girl kept a firm grip on Sienna and helped to stand her up slowly. A look of concern appeared on Clarisse’s face.
“Oh, hey, Charlie,” Sienna said loudly, her words slurred and drunk. “How are you doing tonight?”
“I’m doing pretty good here, Nenna.” The Ares girl responded.
“That’s good. I’m doing wonderful.”
“Oh, really? I haven’t noticed.”
Sienna hummed in response and smiled as her hands gripped the hem of her shirt. She could barely feel her head and needed something to keep her steady – or, in this case, Clarisse.
After a few moments, Sienna began finding the strength to gather herself together. She wanted to head back to… whoever she was going to see. Silena? Harper? She couldn’t remember. Sienna stood up before falling back into Clarisse’s arms.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to catch me twice,” she muttered and chuckled to herself. “I see why you’re the daughter of Ares, though. You have a good reaction time and you’re very strong.”
She’s so drunk.
Clarisse laughed, then flashed that brilliant smile of hers. “I think you may have had too much fun tonight, hotshot.”
“Mm, really? Wanna walk me back to my cabin, then?” Sienna’s tone was seductive; her words slurred, the darkened, drunk look in her eyes was almost irresistible, the way her lips parted slightly. The alcohol was definitely doing the talking here.
The boy, Clarisse’s half-brother, had instead come over to them rather than wait for her. Sienna’s visibly drunk figure clutched onto his older sister’s chest. He cleared his throat to break the silence between the two girls.
“What do you want, Ethan?” Clarisse growled. She noticed his eyes flicker to the drunk girl in her arms. It wasn’t a matter of what he wanted, it was who he wanted, and Clarisse wasn’t going to have it. “No, Sienna’s done for tonight. I’m taking her back to her cabin.”
Something snapped in her. Sienna looked up at the tall girl. “What? No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re too drunk.” Clarisse argued.
“I’m completely fine, Clarisse. But thank you for the help,” Sienna pushed herself off of the Ares girl and gestured for Ethan to start walking away with her.
Clarisse grabbed her arm. “Sienna, you asked me to take you back to your cabin. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Let her decide what she wants to do, Clarisse.” Ethan inserted himself into their soon-to-be argument. He stepped slightly between them and removed his sister’s grip off Sienna’s arm. In a few moments, Ethan would learn this was a mistake.
“I suggest you get out of my way, Ethan.” Clarisse warned.
Ethan scoffed. “You’re not her boss. If she wants to go with me, then let her go with me.”
That did it.
Before anything else, fist met face and a fight erupted between the two half-siblings. Sienna watched in shock as they wrestled on the ground; Clarisse mainly the one winning their tussle. She held him by his shirt, punch after punch was thrown while he helplessly tried to strangle her. Everyone was already watching now: the boys cheering the Ares girl on for beating her brother. Across the way, Sienna saw Silena mouthing to her: ‘What happened?’ Sienna pointed to herself. A few of the other Ares kids stepped in to stop the fight.
Once the two managed to get off each other, Sienna – and everyone else – saw the damage on them. Ethan’s nose was bleeding profusely, his right eye was blue and purple, and his lip was busted and red. The stitches in his right hand had burst open. Clarisse’s lip was bleeding and her knuckles were bruised from punching him. Her eyes darted around the crowd, looking for the girl she had just gotten into a fight with her sibling for; she saw her figure slip out from the crowd and head back towards the cabins.
——————
in conclusion: clarisse is gay, doesn’t realize she has a fat crush on her best friend, and will literally fight anyone for sienna — whether she likes it or not.
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OC-tober Day 11: Kisser in a different story world
Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.
I just couldn't help but combine two of my trashiest fandoms, you see.
The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.
Day 1
~+~
Kisser sighed as Demon Lord Jango Fett, his progenitor and ostensible boss, gave another rousing speech about the terrible horrible no good very bad cultivators hiding away on their nasty little mountains in the human realm. Hopefully this rousing little number would be done soon and they could get back to the real work of building housing and harvesting food for the ever-growing demon army. Lord Fett had a warrior’s mind but no head for logistics whatsoever, much to the chagrin of the army he’d summoned forth from his own blood. Kisser wasn’t paid to have opinions, but he thought it was pretty telling that whatever survivors there may have been of Jango’s previous command were staying the hell away from their newly acquired territory.
Then again, the new territory was in the deepest parts of the Endless Abyss, surrounded by hostile wildlife and lone roving demons driven mad by the miasma of pain and hate that gave the region its name.
As Kisser was musing idly about whether he was also going to go mad or had already been born so, the speech concluded. The siblings dispersed, save for the Commanders who had to follow Jango to his war room to waste time planning an unsustainable invasion. Kisser himself made his way over to the kitchens.
“Heya, Jude,” he greeted. Jude was a dour looking Sibling, but he had such a way with spices the kitchens had stolen him from the combat unit quickly. “Anything specific you want me to look for today?”
Jude grumbled inaudibly, hunting around for a moment before handing Kisser a piece of paper with a short list of plants. “Don’t touch the leaves on the Sleeping Razor Leaf.”
“Aww, Jude, it’s nothing a little somnophilia can’t fix,” Kisser teased.
“If you don’t bleed out first, maybe.” Jude shooed him with a wave of his hand.
Reviewing the list as he walked, Kisser planned a route that would take him through the nearby desert. He’d need to grab a few supplies–a lighter set of armor, couple of canteens–but he wouldn’t need to venture too deeply so no camping gear. Too bad he wouldn’t have an excuse to miss tomorrow’s scintillating lecture about the evils of the Jedi cultivation sect et cetera.
It was a good hike. Kisser found a patch of Long-Spined Eternal Nettle, which made his search for its sister plant, Hot and Cold Moonflower, much simpler. He made sure to note its location, so other siblings could find it too. 
There was a distant screaming-tearing sound, which Kisser noted was further along his route. The atmosphere in that direction seemed to suck inwards, and the light bent strangely away from it.
Well, Siblings didn’t make names by being reckless nor by having self-preservation instincts! Kisser would find out what it was if it was still there when he got there.
It took some time, but Kisser made his way into the scrublands, where the weirdness seemed to be centered. Before he could really figure out what was going on, he saw a figure falling from the sky, followed by a flash-crack as the weirdness shattered. Using his admittedly marginal cultivation, Kisser put on a burst of speed and managed to jump and catch the falling person before they hit the ground.
Once he was on stable footing, Kisser looked at them properly. They had ruddy hair and a blood red demon mark, but their clothes were unmistakably human and their face was round and tear-stained. Their expression morphed from devastation to anger lightning-fast. Kisser set them down as quickly and gently as he was able to while dodging a punch. It had a crackling blend of human and demonic energy behind it–terrifying and fascinating in equal measure.
 “Hey, hey, hey,” Kisser objected, hands up and placating, “No need for all that! I just didn’t want you to go splat, is all!”
“Who are you?” they demanded, trying uselessly to straighten their robes.
“Name’s Kisser,” he said jovially. “I live at the settlement a few clicks that way. Only sane-ish bunch for miles.”
“Sane…ish?” then, before Kisser could clarify, “Apologies. I am called Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Kisser didn’t know any human niceties, even though his new friend seemed to want to keep to them. “Good name!” he tried, though the hint of bewilderment told him he missed by a click and then some. “And I say sane-ish, because most demons go crazy if they hang out here too long. Too deadly and,” he waved his hand, “mind-poisoning? I guess?”
“But you have a settlement here?” Obi-Wan had fully collected himself, save for the redness around his eyes.
“Yeah! I can probably sneak you in, but it’ll be hard for you to blend in,” Kisser mused, “Still, you need to eat. Just can’t let Lord Fett find you!”
Obi-Wan hesitated, but after glancing around and seeing his very limited options, he agreed. “Alright. Why won’t I be able to blend in? Surely you have extra clothes.”
“Oh,” Kisser laughed, “Cause we’re all clones of Lord Fett.”
Obi-Wan stared at him as though he’d grown a second head, but said, “Lead on, then.”
Brave little thing.
~+~
Day 12
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nirikeehan · 1 year
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HAP FRIDAY NIRI!! you know what I'm here for but can I get some Cullen & Laela Trevelyan + compelling voice, from the bad things happen bingo?
You asked for something hideous and that I can provide. I combined it with this prompt from @little--abyss:
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Thank you for allowing me to develop Laela a bit and make up one of the powers that lyrium gives Templars. Yes, this set up is based on the idea that Templars can do some Jedi mind trick/Dune Bene-Gesserit fuckery with their voices. 🤷‍♀️
This may very well go in the next chapter of Temperance and Templars, an AU where Cullen has been hired by the Trevelyans to be Thalia's personal Templar.
For @dadrunkwriting and @badthingshappenbingo
WC: 1638
---
Movement out the window caught his eye. Cullen looked up from his parchment, the words to Knight-Commander Greagoir dying on his quill. He saw the flash of auburn, plaited and twisted into a knot atop her head, accompanied by the sweep of pale violet skirts. 
Cullen shot to his feet. “For Maker’s sake!” She was headed for a thicket past the estate’s neat hedgerows. 
He dashed into the corridor and thundered down the stairs to the second floor. Lady Thalia was not to leave the premises unattended — that much had been made clear when they had previously been summoned to Bann Trevelyan’s study. Cullen thought Thalia had understood, given the penitent look on her face. He’d hoped the arrangement had been sweetened by the fact that he had not told her father about the “blood magic” experiment he had interrupted a few nights prior. Apparently, it had all been another ruse. The girl’s whimsies were beginning to wear on him, and he’d barely been here a week.
Cullen reached the second floor. From the landing’s narrow window, he could see out to the edge of the back gardens. Thalia seemed to have vanished entirely. There was no way he could catch up with her now. 
Sighing, Cullen entered the hallway leading to the Trevelyans’ sleeping quarters. Thalia’s door was locked, no surprise. Instead of finding a servant to get him a key, Cullen kept walking, hoping he could find one of her relatives. A parent or sibling ought to know her habits, at least. 
To his relief, the door to her sister’s chambers stood open, and he saw a bit of her blue samite gown as she strolled about inside. Cullen strolled over the threshold, summoning his courtesies as he went. “Lady Laela, forgive the intrusion, but I’ve a matter of some urgency—”
A projectile came flying at his head. Cullen let out a yelp of surprise and ducked. A bright, sharp pain seared his face. He pressed a hand to his mouth and slowly straightened. His palm came away dripping with blood. 
The scream made him look up. Laela rushed toward him, green eyes wide. “Ser Cullen, I didn’t see you there! Oh, good Andraste, you’re bleeding.” 
She reached his side and wrapped her arms around his elbow. Cullen flinched. He disliked unannounced physical contact, and that it was from a lady of the house complicated matters further.
“It’s just a scratch,” he said, to reassure her, but when he opened his mouth, the coppery taste of blood filled it. Stunned, he returned the hand to his face. “All right, maybe it isn’t.” 
“Come, come, have a seat right over here, ser. I’ll take a look at it.” 
He let Lady Laela lead him over to a high-backed armchair. He sat down heavily, while she dashed to a nearby wash basin. 
As he waited, Cullen looked around the room. “What— was that?” Not far from the door he’d entered, the wall was strewn with parchment, covered in charcoal sketches. The likenesses were not bad, he noted: busts of various men. More alarming was that so many of the portraits had been pierced with feathered fletching. “My lady,” Cullen said carefully, “what exactly is it you’re doing in here?”
Lady Laela returned with a damp cloth, a bowl of water, and a laugh. “You must forgive me, ser,” she said, pulling up another chair to sit opposite him. “You’ve caught me amidst target practice.” 
“Target practice?” Cullen echoed, squinting at the sketches. Names accompanied the portraits: Lord Royce Thorleye, Bann Averill of Strudwicke, Comte Poncelet de Quint… 
“Darts, you see.” Laela leaned forward, examining him. The veil pinned to her flaxen hair brushed against his shoulder. “Here, take this. Press it against the wound.” 
Cullen took the damp cloth from her and used it to put pressure on his mouth. Gingerly, he used his tongue to probe the swelling above his lip, and at last began to understand. The dart’s blade must have grazed his face when he’d entered. Because of its size, he’d hardly seen the thing coming. 
He removed the rag from his mouth and fixed Laela with a look he hoped seemed appropriately stern. “I hope I don’t have to tell you how dangerous it is to practice with weaponry indoors.”
Laela’s delicate brows furrowed with anger. “Yes, well, usually the servants know better than to interrupt me.”
Cullen swallowed. “My apologies,” he said mildly, returning the cloth to his face. Next time I’ll ask permission before being assaulted.
“You’ve learned, and that’s the important thing,” Laela said, all sweetness.
“The drawings are quite good.” Building a rapport might help him smooth over the slight. “Did you do them yourself?”
“I did,” Laela confirmed, beaming with pride. 
“Are they real people? I confess I don’t recognize the names.”
Laela let out a dark chuckle. “Oh, they’re real, all right.”
Perhaps it was the shock of incurring the wound, but Cullen hadn’t quite considered the implications therein until now. Part of him wanted to laugh. “Not a fan, I take it?”
“You could say that.” Laela’s tone was neutral, offering him no insight. Before he could probe further, she took hold of the cloth and pulled it from his face. “Oh dear, the cut is quite deep, isn’t it? I fear you might need stitches. I must tell Father to summon the physician.” 
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Cullen said, mention of the Bann sobering him. What would the Trevelyan patriarch think to find his new hired Templar sitting around, injured by a wayward dart, while his mage daughter galavanted off who knew where? “Actually, Lady Laela, I’ve come to ask a favor. I’m looking for your sister. She knows she’s not supposed to leave the manor without me, but a few minutes ago I saw her on her own, wandering toward the edge of the property.” 
Laela sighed. “Ah yes, classic Thalia. She often gave the last Templar the slip, as well.”
There it was again, mention of his predecessor. “I hope that’s not what led to the last Templar’s dismissal.” 
Laela burst into peals of giggles. “Oh, no no no, don’t worry, Ser Cullen. It was far worse than that.”
What the hell does that mean? Cullen wanted to ask, but Laela was still speaking. “Father talks a big game, but Thalia is more or less free to do as she pleases. She’ll be all right.”
“Will she?” Cullen thought to tell her of Thalia’s aborted attempt at blood magic, but a glance at the gentlemen in the charcoal sketches made him think better of it. “I’d rather ascertain that for myself, if you don’t mind.” 
“Well, I do mind,” Laela declared. “It would be silly for you to go running off after her in the state you’re in!” 
She wrapped her hand around his wrist, and again Cullen jumped. Back in Kinloch Hold, he would have been wearing full plate mail, but the Trevelyans had thought the official Templar armor unseemly. Her palm was cool against his skin, and her face hovered closer to his once more. Her narrow nose had a crooked angle in it, he noticed. It threw off the symmetry of her face, made it garish somehow. Unsightly. 
Cullen took a breath and slid his hand out of her grasp. “I can only assure you I’m fine,” he said, voice hardening. “I’d hoped you would be able to help me locate Lady Thalia, but if that’s untrue, I’m perfectly capable of doing it on my own.”
Laela sighed. “Stubborn, aren’t you?” 
“I’d prefer the term ‘dedicated.’” Cullen took the opportunity to stand. “To my job, you see.”
“And you never tire of the Templar life, Ser Cullen?” Laela stayed in her seat, but leaned back and gazed up at him coyly, the hint of a smirk tugging one side of her mouth. “It must be so stifling. All those vows to take, rules to follow.” She slipped one leg over the chair’s armrest, revealing a pale stretch of skin from beneath her skirt. 
Cullen stared at her. Maker’s breath, is she attempting to seduce me? He recalled Thalia’s words the night they met, that Laela was on the prowl for a husband, but Cullen had not known how much stock to put in the girl’s words. 
“It isn’t,” Cullen said flatly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” 
He turned for the exit, eager to put as much space between them as possible. A light rustling of samite followed, and Laela was at his side once more. She wrapped her arm around his elbow, smile dazzling bright. “Ser Cullen, I—”
“Unhand me at once,” Cullen commanded, and the very air warped with the sound of his voice. 
Laela’s face went unnaturally slack. She dropped his arm as if it were burning her. Cullen wrenched away, breathing heavily. He felt dizzy, though from the encounter itself or his use of the Voice he couldn’t be sure. He held onto the doorframe and tried to catch his breath.
Laela blinked blankly for a few seconds, then started to come out of her stupor. “I don’t… what happened? What did you do?”
A sense of shame overcame him. As Templar abilities went, he’d never favored the Voice — partially because of its difficulty to master, and partially because of the ethics involved. He would much rather mages respond to a Templar’s wishes of their own volition. In all but the most volatile cases, it diffused the confrontation more effectively than forcibly bending mages’ bodies to the Templar’s will. And it went without saying one should never use it on a non-mage, as Cullen had apparently just done. That alone was grounds for dismissal. 
“Forgive me,” he said, horrified. “I’ve got to go.”
Cullen stumbled from the room, leaving a befuddled Laela frozen in his wake. 
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waremyth · 1 year
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Rose Song
credit for this- luvllymack
(Iron dad au, Damianette, classsalt, assgreste, so yah, Marinette had dated Adrian Assgreste and it was a very toxic relationship, stark didn't know about this till a week before they broke up, Sabine and tom had died so stark, and Pepper came to take Marinette with them back to New York they also found out about the class bullying Mari physically and emotionally, so they took Mari out also cause assgreste had started to forcefully make her "his", when she left she started school at midtown high, where her and peter started a sibling bond especially when peter became starks intern, so stark had to go to a Gala and decided to take Marinette with him, as soon as Mari and Damian met they hit it off, the batfam were surprised and Stark had figured this might happen, so we started dating 3 months after that, Damian does know what her class and EX has done to her(he wanted to kill em all, all the Waynes did, peter does not know about Adrien), so this week is a event that midtown decided to host, its where 2 classes from 2 schools would visit midtown for 3 weeks and it so happens the classes are Damians class and Mari's old class, so MPs in this is Damian, Peter, Ned, Mj, Chloe(Shocker), Jon(he is in Damians class). the bat's and the Avenger's were ticked to find out that Marinette's old class was coming, onto this shot(also I fell in love with this song, its helping me design a rose tattoo, i love making tattoo's and drawing))
Mari's P.O.V
all the classes are in the gym for a announcement, I looked over to see Adrien staring at me, I shivered and I'm guessing Peter noticed and so he looked to where I was looking and saw Agreste, Peter came to me and said "don't worry Mari, he wont get to you with me here" I nod and smile a little then the teacher comes in
Teacher: Alright I called you all here because we will be doing a singing contest sign up if you would like to participate, you may wright a song or sing one that has already been made but id love to here ones that tell an experience or story, so please if you can do that.
then the teacher walks out, I decided to sign up and sing a song I had wrote a while back that would tell everyone a little about my story 
after that Adrien came up to me "Purrincess why are you here and not with your Prince?" I stiffened at his words "leave me alone Adrien." I glared at him, one of the things I learned from Damian, he went a little pale, so I started to walk again, but Adrdrien snapped out of it and gripped my arm to where it started to bleed, then someone punched Adrien and pulled me into a hug I looked up to see who it was and I was met with green emerald eyes "Agreste, you do not touch my Angel" soon Peter, Mj, Ned, and Chloe showed up "leave!" Damian glares at Agreste using his bat glare, "tch" then he walks away, Damian looked down at me with a worried look "Angel, can I see your arm" I just nod and show them my arm, I heard them gasp then Damian wrapped my arm up.
time skip to the day of the performance
it was cloudy so we couldn't see the sun, the performance was held in the gardens, everyone has gone Lila sung about her and she sounded like nails on a blackboard, Alya sounded like a dying squeal, and Agreste just sounded horrible, but they were praised by my old class, I looked out and saw the bats, Dad, Mom, and the MPS, I was called to the stage, I heard Lila say I probably sounded horrible and the class agreed with it I got a little scared at that point but then something unexpected happened, someone put their hand on my shoulder and said "You can do it, ignore those losers, I think everyone here but them would agree that you can do it" I looked at who said that and saw flash Tompson smiling at me, yah your probably like 'He's supposed to be rude or a bully' well he saw how my old class acted and realized he was the same, so he apologiesed to all the kids he had picked on or bullied so he apologiesed to Peter and I we told him well give him a second chance so he's been a lot nicer, after that i thanked him and walked to the stage and began.
All my life, I've seen myself through your eyes Wonderin' if I am good enough for your time You love me but for all the wrong reasons Am I somethin' to you and not someone? 'Cause I feel trapped on this pedestal you put me on You tell me that I'm beautiful but I think that's an understatement
I saw my friends and family's worried looks and I felt guilty, but I continued the song
'Cause I am more than what I am to you You say I'm perfect but I've got thorns with my petals, too And I won't be confined to your point of view I'm breakin' through the glass you put me in 'Cause my beauty's from within
i saw a lot of people smiling and saw Damian admiring me while smirking, I started blushing.
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh My beauty's from within Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh
i saw Agreste giving me a disgusted look, I felt a tear run down my cheek, until i realised that im free.
So, I am done livin' my life just for you You watched me wither and now you'll watch me bloom
suddenly all the flowers around either bloom, get brighter or the dead flowers come back alive, everyone is just looking around at the garden as its becoming beautiful and healthy
You're hidin' in the dark but I'm reachin' for the Sun, woo-ooh
the clouds start to clear and the sun shines on everyone and everything
'Cause I am more than what I am to you You say I'm pretty but I've got magic that you never knew
suddenly magic is going around the audience
And I won't be confined to your point of view I'm breakin' through the glass you put me in, 'cause
I finally feel freedom here
I am more than what I am to you You say I'm perfect but I've got thorns with my petals, too And I won't be confined to your point of view I'm breakin' through the glass you put me in 'Cause my beauty's from within
i finish to see my class pale and Adrien with an irritated look, i looked to the Croud and everyone stands and cheers, the teacher comes up and say's "i think we have our winner everyone, and thank you for coming out for this." and the she leaves. 
i walk off the stage to go to my friends and family, but Agreste grabbed my wrists, i winced from that, and he holds my wrists above my head "Purrincess, you will have your punishment for what you did." he smiles maniacally "And what did I do Agreste!?" i try to loosen his grip on me but he grips them harder and I yelp in pain "you shouldn't do that Purrincess" he smirks only to get punched by peter then Damian, i fell down to the ground after he let go and Pepper, chloe, and Selina come to me, while the others are dealing with Assgreste "Kitten, are you ok!?" selina said worriedly "Hunny what did he do?" mom asks wanting to know if I'm injured, i nodded and showed her my wrists which are purple and black, they still have the punctures from last time, Chloe stood up "I'm going to find a medical kit" and runs of, Selina and Pepper started to look at the bruises, when Chloe gets back they put ointment on the bruises and wrapped my wrists in a bandage, after the boys had all came back and wanted to see if i was ok, when they heard about the bruiseing and Damian and Peter told them about the other day they filled a crap ton of law suits on assgreste, the class, and the teachers and principle
few years later peter had proposed to Mj and now is engaged, Damian and I had gotten married, the class was still trying to pay off the lawsuit, Assgreste is in jail for what he did same with Lila, Alya had been blacklisted along with the rest of their class, so they work at restaurants or ...some other places, Alya was not happy when she FINALLY double checked Lila's lies and found them all fake...but eh.
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babybluesquid · 1 year
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Consequences of Karrnath Session 22
Courtesy of Inesa Yanova
Our Players this week:
Dagne, Vengeance Paladin, an undead soldier created by the Odakyr Rites, but is now something else entirely. They are a Seeker sworn to protect the living. Has a skeleton horse mount from Find Steed named Coffin. They are the party leader and reluctantly serve under King Kaius III. Can be abrasive and dishonest, but they are ultimately kind.
Vaeren, Swarmkeeper Ranger, a blind Deathguard sent to investigate Dagne’s nature. They keep a spirit idol with five spirits of dead Deathguard: Galan, Kerxna, Paeral, Aelrie, and Nym, who can allow them to see, but from a third person point of view. They’re contemplative and disciplined, helping Dagne keep the party in line.
Evakhal, Zealot Barbarian, a mysterious half-orc Gaash’kala who joined the party due to his visions of the future where they stop a powerful servant of an Overlord.
The pale man refuses to walk, so Dagne and Seven end up carrying him. As the two do, Seven starts up a conversation with them, “you seem to have a lot of experience fighting. Did you serve in the war?” “Yes.” “Far simpler then, wouldn’t you say?” “Yes,” Dagne sighs, “but that was just an illusion.” “Truly it was. They made me and my siblings and told us what to do, but didn’t tell us we were alive. Most of us only found out a while into the thing.” “I understand that,” Dagne says as they think back. “Wait, how? You don’t appear to be forged, though one could be designed to appear as someone in plate.”
Not leaving a moment for doubts to grow, Dagne explains, “back then, I lived only to follow orders. I did not have a life before the war, and I did not consider the consequences of my actions.” “I understand that. Me and The Wall didn’t realize until, what was it, seven years in. Took a while to piece the whole world together.” Dagne nods, “even upon realizing, the prospect of leaving was too terrifying.” “The war was incredibly stupid, but what else are you supposed to do when you’re a professional soldier? This is what you’re made for,” Seven commiserates. “It took The Mourning for me to finally snap out of it. I was there.” “What was it like on the day?” Dagne pauses, then decides to tell it, “we saw the mist approaching on the horizon, an impossibly wide wall. It approached as we fled, faster than men, horses, war vehicles. As it overcame us, some men fell immediately, others began to writhe in pain and bleed, still others were transformed, flash twisted and bones grew until they were not men, but monsters. There was so much screaming and the undead stood still and silent. My commander was lucky, he got the instant death.”
One Dagne is done, Seven asks, “how’s you get out? If you were caught in the mists, you’re pretty much screwed unless…” Dagne cuts off that train of thought, “why I was spared that day is something I’m trying to answer with my current actions.” “Well, at least the war ended after.” “It wasn’t worth it.” “Truly,” Seven taps his chest rhythmically with his two fingers, “for me the end of the war was interesting. We were all free, in theory. They tried to indenture The Wall, you know. They quickly found out that was more trouble than it was worth.”
He looks down, lost in his memories, then looks over at Evakhal, “so you’re a… Ghost Guardian? I have not heard that term. You’re… not a ghost?” “We guard the labyrinth in the Demon Wastes.” “Sounds like a hard job. The Demon Wastes are full of demons, as one could guess?” Evakhal nods.
Seven looks back at Dagne, “since you’re coming back to Korth, you can come down to the Low District and see the bunch of us.” “If we have time. The king might send us out again.” “How’d you end up working for the big guy?” “We have a high success rate. He noticed.” “From what I’ve heard of your exploits, that seems true.” Seven trails off and then, remembering something, addresses Vaeren, “what’s up with the ghosts? I’ve never seen anything quite like that.” “The ghosts are friends of mine,” Vaeren explains, “they help me fight.” “How did you come across such an interesting entourage?” “We elves tend to keep our ancestors nearby.” “I heard of something like that… Aerenal! Them with the masks. I’ve never met one of them. Generally you run into the Valenar, or just elves.” Vaeren doesn’t respond as he rambles.
The party arrives in Korth. On the edge of High Court Ward, Seven stops, “I’m gonna wait here, I think.” “Suit yourself,” Dagne says. Evakhal, Nux, and Syv opt to stay back with him. Dagne drags the pale man and the other prisoners to Crown Home, accompanied by Vaeren. As they approach, guards and a wandslinger surround the captives and haul them off to jail. A warforged approaches the party, speaking in a light monotone, “His Highness can meet you in two hours and thirty minutes. You will report the successful completion of your mission. We can see that you brought in the enemies of Karrnath and we greatly appreciate that. We can show you to a seating room and offer refreshment while you wait, or you can wait elsewhere as long as you attend the meeting on time.”
“The seating room is private?” Dagne asks. “We could arrange a private seating room.” “Thank you. We’ll take that.” “Would you like any refreshments?” Dagne looks at Vaeren. “No thank you,” they say. The sitting room is small with rugs on the flood, plush coaches, and small tables. There’s a fireplace which looks like it’ll make the whole room cozy in the winter. Vaeren sits on one of the couches, and Dagne takes their seat next to them. Abruptly, they say, “you kissed me. Why?” Vaeren hurriedly stuffs Paeral back into their spirit idol as they can just feel the ghost’s confusion and immediate disdain. “You can’t just, I need a warning before you bring something up,” Vaeren complains, already predicting the intense lecture they’ll receive. “Oh, well they can complain to me then.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Vaeren sits still as they apologize. “I never said I was displeased.” “What?” They practically jump out of their skin. “You love me, don’t you,” Dagne states, rather than asks. “I-” Vaeren’s words escape them. “I love you too.” They practically deflate, posture collapsing as they lean in against Dagne. “So what do we do now? This is forbidden for both of us,” Dagne says. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.” “Well, I’m not one to care about what authorities think is forbidden. I do what I think is right.” Vaeren scoffs, “I’m sure we all know that at this point.” “Clearly you want to as well,” Dagne says.
Vaeren remains silent at that accusation. Dagne reaches for their mask and Vaeren does nothing to prevent them from removing it. Looking at their face now, Dagne tells Vaeren, “don’t put so much stock in their orders. Follow your own brain and your own heart, otherwise you’ll be left empty.” They don’t reply, but tears begins to silently roll down their cheeks. Dagne continues, “I know it’s hard to live for yourself when you’ve never done so before, but trust me, it’s worth it.” They take Dagne’s hand a squeeze it, Dagne cups their cheek, feeling their abating tears.
“What do you want to do?” Dagne asks. Rather than respond verbally, Vaeren lifts Dagne’s visor, leans in, and quickly kisses them again. Dagne reaches their arms around to hold Vaeren’s back. Finally, Vaeren gives their quiet answer, “I don’t know, but I do know I love you.” “That’s enough,” Dagne replies, before leaning in to kiss Vaeren.
Once the wait is over, the warforged returns to escort Dagne and Vaeren to another sitting room, where King Kaius III sits at the head of a small table. “I’m glad to see you again. I heard I have a very interesting prisoner that you brought in.” “A pale man,” Dagne says. “Good job. We can learn what it is now. The secret development of new undead is concerning.” They interrupt, “please spare the other four prisoners. They surrendered in battle.” King Kaius sighs, “well enough. There’s not too much detriment to small fish getting away. Interestingly, while you were out, I received a message that Inesa Yanova attacked another Ministry of Dead research site, this one further up north. Security, when the went out to engage the Watchers, ran into a field of placed blast discs. I’ve actually met Inesa once before, she is very dangerous. Without leadership, the Red Watchers are just thugs, with leadership, they’re a real threat. Since the attack just happened, she can’t be far off. The site was between the Karrn Wood and the Rekkan Wood, here. You should be able to get there fairly quickly, taking the rail to Rekkanmark and heading north.” Dagne nods, “we’ll set out immediately and bring her back.”
The party regroups and Dagne explains the mission to the others. Evakhal and Seven both opt to join. As the group rushes north, there’s a sense of apprehension. Fighting Inesa on her own terms seems like a doomed prospect, the only reason the party won last time was they got the jump on her. As the group approaches the facility, they see that the gate was blown open. Arrayed in front of it are the corpses of the security soldiers. They carefully pick their way through the field, wary of unactivated blast discs. It’s dead quiet, Vaeren notices nothing. The Red Watchers are already gone, but maybe the facility contains some clues. The party heads through the gate. Vwoop! A magical sound goes off, followed by a prerecorded voice saying in a sarcastically sweet tone, “courtesy of Inesa Yanova.” Then, there is fire! Evakhal and Dagne are knocked to the ground by the blast. Vaeren leaps aside and takes only minimal burns from the explosion. In the next instant, four archers jump to their feet on the complex battlements, draw, and fire on Vaeren. Five arrows strike them! Their armor saves their life, but just barely. As they’re reeling, a rogue jumps up from behind cover and stabs their back with a shortsword. Vaeren falls to the ground instantly, beside the prone Dagne, and they are bleeding too much.
Vaeren makes a death save. They fail.
Dagne reaches out and touches Vaeren, relieved as they feel their healing magic mend them. Next, they hurriedly smear some blood on their mask, filling the action with intent to protect, and forming a magical shield form around them. As Vaeren wakes back up, Dagne stands and helps them to their feet. Seven braces his spear against his shield, then rushes forward into the courtyard. Right into a blast disc! In a split second, he hunkers beneath his shield. The blast throws him, but he digs in his heels and seems to weather it alright. The rest of the party and the rogue also brace against the blast. He uses the distraction to run across the field to behind the far right cover.
Enraged, Evakhal stands up and passes Seven, running right for the men hunkered behind the far left cover. They’re ready for him though. A man with a billhook slashes Ev’s leg. Another man, this one a hobgoblin with no weapons aside from various darts at his belt, throws five. His aim is impressive, four striking Evakhal.
Seeing Vaeren back up, the archers refuse to allow that. They fire. Dagne’s shield of faith deflects some, but three break through. Then, one of the archers falls off the battlements. Looking up, the party sees small, dark cloaked figures engaging the archers on the wall. In short order, each archer is either cut down or thrown down. One of the figures throws a gleaming rainbow feather in the air, which floats down beside Dagne. Vaeren spots the rogue who felled them and, with murderous intent, places a hunter’s mark on him and aims for his spine. The arrows flies with such force that it punches right through him, coming out the front of his chest. Seemingly for good measure, three ghostly arrows are fired into his head, and he falls dead in an instant. They then move their focus to one of the billmen and fire. He takes the arrow center mass, but his scale mail protects him from lethal damage and he’s only bruised.
The hobgoblin martial artist run up to Ev, drop kicks him, then hops back to his feet and elbow slams his helmet for good measure. Evakhal reels under the sudden assault, managing to block other attempts at attack with his maul. Dagne runs across the field to engage the men behind cover, taking the same safe path which the rogue revealed. When they leave, another billhook wielder suddenly runs into the complex from outside and backstabs Vaeren! They fall again. Seven turns and runs back to defend them, shouting a warcry, “The Wall! The Wall! Our own will never fall!” He intends to run the billman through with his spear, but the man just manages to sidestep and deflect a vicious thrust aimed right for his face. He retaliates with a slash, but Seven’s brings up his shield to block it. Also from outside the complex, a warforged with an armblade runs on to the scene. When he approaches, Seven sticks him in the wooden musculature, stating “sad to see you fall in with this lot brother.” The wound is bad, the enemy forged leaking clear and viscous alchemical fluid. Seven continues, “you should surrender and come back with me.” “I’m not doing that. I’m with the Watchers,” he replies as he headbutts Seven’s faceplate, getting in close to limit his spear’s efficacy.
Vaeren makes a death save. They fail.
Meanwhile, Dagne is unable to go help as a human woman with a rapier and a dagger immediately runs up to meet them. She stabs into their elbow gap with her dagger, to no effect since she doesn’t penetrate the gambeson. Then she manages getting her rapier up under their visor. As the blade hits against hard bone, her face contorts in confusion, “what?!” One billhook wielder nearby slashes Dagne ineffectually, but then manages to drive the spike into an elbow gap. Dagne strikes the other billman in the shoulder, then the hip with their hammer head, before sweeping out his legs with the pole of their weapon. He goes down hard, hitting his head on the ground and lying still. Ev swings at the hobgoblin, who dodges, but then slams them hard right in the stomach on the backswing. They manage to roll with the blow, but are still left stumbling with cracked ribs and burns from Ev’s holy fire. Still, they manage to come back in, punching at Ev’s face. He avoids in, but it was just a feint. The hobgoblin then kicks his ankle hard and smacks him in the back of the head. The force is so sudden that Evakhal stumbles to the ground. The billman slams his face with the flat of his weapon while he’s down.
Seven drops his spear, opens his jaw, then pulls a vial of red liquid out of his mouth. Hurriedly, he guards with his shield and crouches down to administer the C1 potion to Vaeren. Their wounds mend themselves, and they pull themselves back to their feet. But the shield of faith around them fizzles and then disperses! Across the field, Vaeren sees Dagne go down, the human woman pulling her dagger from under their visor and her rapier from their ribcage. Vaeren cries out in alarm and pure rage, placing a hunter’s mark on the woman and firing. She dodges the first arrow, but the second grazes her neck badly. Aelrie slashes her and cold spreads across her body. Across the way, Evakhal rises to his feet, with the same motion hitting the hobgoblin’s side again. They’re struck hard, coughing blood after the impact. But Ev doesn’t give them even a moment to muster a defense, he brings down the maul again, then time slamming the martial artist full force on the top of the head. Their skull is pulverized. In retaliation, the billman yells and stabs him in the leg with his billhook’s spike.
Dagne makes a death save. Natural twenty.
With a horrified start, Dagne remembers something and rises to their feet. Disoriented, they disengage and run across the field to be closer to the complex gate. The billhook wielder pursues and tries to stab them, but Dagne tangles their poleaxe with his polearm. The other billman finally manages to strike Seven as he is retrieving his spear, cutting some wooden cords in his armpit gap. Totally unfazed, Seven asks, “you do realize you’re going to die now, don’t you?” Then he shield-bashes him in the face. The man’s nose begins to bleed as he reels back. Seven follow up with a vicious stab under the chin, the point driving up into the man’s brain and killing him immediately. As the warforged tries to attack, he jabs him with the butt of his spear, but the warforged blocks with his armblade. “I don’t want to kill you, brother,” Seven tells him. “If I surrender will you spare me?” He responds hatefully. “Of course brother. I can bring you back to a decent life away from the Watchers.” Surprised by Seven’s candid response, the other warforged actually does surrender.
The human woman rushes Dagne, cutting past the interlocked polearms to slam their helmet with both her pommels. They once again black out. Vaeren fires at her again, but she dances around and ducks the arrows. Seven charges her, slamming her with his shield. He then strikes her in the neck with his spear shaft, despite her attempt to dodge. She strikes back with dagger and rapier, managing to cut through to alchemical fluid. He turns to Vaeren, “you better thank me for that because now I can’t drink it.” “Thank you, I apologize for not thanking you earlier. I’m very disoriented.”
Dagne makes a death save. They succeed.
Ev spikes the billman in the calf, gashing him badly, but then overbalances and misses his second swing. However, convinced that he’ll lose anyway, the billman drops his weapon and surrenders. Ev considers him for a moment, before deciding to join the rest of the fight. He runs over and throws a javelin at the billman engaging Seven, striking him in the back of the neck. He dies. Evakhal then throws another at the human woman, but she manages to sidestep the projectile. Vaeren shoots her twice. One arrow gashes her arm and the other buries itself deep in her side, followed by a slash from Aelrie.
Dagne makes a death save. They succeed.
Once again, Seven shield bashes the woman in the chest, knocking her to the ground. He then puts his spear to her throat, “fight’s over.” “So it would seem,” she spits her reply.
Dagne makes a death save. They succeed.
Vaeren kneels by their side, pulls out a C1 potion they’ve been saving, and administers it to Dagne. As they wake up, still remembering something, they say “we have a big problem.” “Yes we do,” Vaeren agrees.
The party rounds up the surrendered billman, unconscious billman, human woman, and warforged, tying them up. Then Vaeren performs a cursory inspection of the complex. All the facility employees are dead, and it seems they were attacked by a far larger Red Watcher force than was left here for the ambush. All equipment and weapons were either carried off or destroyed. Among the dead though are two corpses of pale men, with Red Watcher symbols carved into their foreheads. The connection to the Ministry of Dead the king had sought is right here.
——————
Highlights:
Dagne and Vaeren are together now let’s go!
Welcome to the era of Chad Dagne. I made the whole table absolutely lose it with the “I never said I was displeased” line. They really do treat conversation like combat.
Vaeren is absolutely gonna get yelled at by their ghosts. RIP Vaeren. Their new boyfriend got the whole family disapproving, lmao.
Kind of relieving that Evakhal opted to spare that Red Watcher who surrendered. It seemed like he’d kill the guy in cold blood for a second there.
Seven is so funny, actually. He kills fleshborn without seeming to care, but a warforged? Gotta talk that guy down and offer him a deal to get him out of trouble.
King Kaius III is stressing me out for real. Last time we talk to him, he’s utterly pissed, and this time he’s pleased with us? He’s obfuscating his true feelings for sure.
Inesa Yanova absolutely played us like fiddles when she set that trap. I feel like an utter buffoon for falling for it. If it weren’t for our mysterious rainbow feather allies, we’d of died to the archers.
Really high stakes to have Dagne and Vaeren go down in combat… twice! This is the first time Dagne has gone down since session 2. Funny that Vaeren failed every death save and Dagne succeeded them all with a 20, 19, 19, and 15. Advantage on death saves is awesome.
Session 23.
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archived-kin · 3 years
Text
kaeya isn't as smooth as anyone thinks (and that's okay)
note from kin: basically i saw the ‘kaeya is flirty and constantly flusters reader who has a giant crush on him’ trope and went ‘but what if KAEYA was the one with the giant crush’
quick background: reader is the ‘strong, silent, stoic’ type, has a cryo vision, and works alongside barbara in the church of favonius as a medic
i couldn’t think of a gender neutral way for you to be addressed that sounded natural so i just had you be called your name throughout the piece, but just know that barbara would be addressing you with older sibling honourifics and kaeya would use some sort of respectful title (but in like. a flirty way)
fandom: genshin impact
character(s): gn!reader, kaeya, barbara, bennett
pairing(s): kaeya/reader,
warning(s): non-descriptive blood/mild injury
genre: fluff
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“Master Kaeya!” Barbara exclaims as a familiar cavalry captain strides into the cathedral, dripping blood all over the freshly-polished tiles. “What happened this time?!”
“Just a run-in with some hilichurls,” He says with a nonchalant shrug, swiping away a bead of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?!” She hurriedly ushers him into the hospital wing, hands already beginning to sparkle with Hydro healing magic. “You— you’re bleeding extremely heavily! I need to get these wounds closed up as soon as possible—”
“Relax,” Kaeya placates, giving one of her pigtails a playful tug as she frantically flits about him like an agitated butterfly. “I don’t feel a thing. It’s all superficial, really…”
“Still…!” She hurries over to one of the cupboards and fumbles around for a roll of bandages. “Please sit down! This won’t take a moment...!”
“Hey, hey, calm down,” He says, holding up his hands. “Is [Name] in today?”
“Yes, they agreed to watch over Bennett while I took care of our patients…” She answers, still rummaging about feverishly, then suddenly pauses, and Kaeya grins slightly. She’s seen right through him. “Ah, wait… Master Kaeya, is this what I think it is?”
Kaeya laughs as she looks up at him with large, reproachful blue eyes, hands set firmly on her hips. Maybe he’d be intimidated if Barbara didn’t have the face of a baby lamb. It’s just kind of adorable. “Perhaps.”
She blows out a breath, cheeks puffing up, then shakes her head with a resigned sort of smile. “I don’t think [Name] will appreciate you disturbing them…”
“I won’t be disturbing anyone,” Kaeya says with a cheeky sort of grin, raising his hand as if showing off the gash in his forearm. “I’m a patient, after all. So, where will [Name] and Bennett be?”
“In the west wing,” Barbara answers, dropping her hands, though the soft blue glow remains.
“To the west wing we go, then,” He replies, and strides off with a flick of his cape. Barbara follows hurriedly, clutching the roll of bandages to her chest.
You’re sat by the window when Kaeya pokes his head in through the door, flicking through a book. The sunlight streaming in behind you seems to illuminate the pale colour of your robes to an ethereal glow, and Kaeya can’t help but silently compare the sight to the illustrations of divine celestial beings he’s seen in books. He takes a deep breath, briefly pressing his hand to his chest, then moves to greet you.
You seem to notice his presence before he can, however, raising your head from your book and practically pinning him to the spot with those clear eyes. “...Master Kaeya.”
He smiles, unable to help the slightly goofy quality of his expression. Archon knows that Lisa would never let him live it down if she saw him now. “[Name].”
“Hi, Mr Kaeya!” Bennett exclaims, attempting to raise a bandage-wrapped hand in greeting, but having to drop it as its sling goes taut. Kaeya offers a brief wave in response, but he’s far too absorbed in looking at you to say anything more.
You stare at him in silence, eyes moving down to the patches of red staining his sleeve, then back up at the scratch on his left cheek. Your expression is unmoving, cold, even, but he still has to try hard not to overheat under the sheer intensity of your gaze. Any flirty quips that he might have thought of trying on you just dry up in his mouth as soon as they come.
“What happened?” You ask finally.
“Master Kaeya says he encountered some hilichurls,” Barbara answers for him, slipping into the room and standing beside him. Bennett grins enthusiastically as soon as he sees her, and she responds with a sweet smile of her own.
You raise an eyebrow at him, and Kaeya can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. “Hilichurls?”
“They were rather... aggressive,” He answers, folding his arms and shifting his weight to his left leg. “And there were quite a lot of them as well.”
You blink slowly. “I would have thought that the Cavalry Captain would be sufficiently capable to ward them off.”
“Well, when you’re surrounded on all sides, there’s not much you can do,” Kaeya shrugs as nonchalantly as possible. He’s not going to admit that he’d stood there and allowed them to get in a few good hits just so he’d have a good reason to come by.
You sigh and close your book, setting it on the windowsill beside you. “I suppose you’ll need some healing.”
“Please,” He responds with a chuckle, inclining his head. You nod and get to your feet.
“Keep an eye on Bennett,” You instruct Barbara, who quickly moves over to take your place beside the unlucky adventurer’s bed. “I trust that he’ll be well under your care.”
“Of course!” She nods, beaming as you gently pat her on the shoulder. “You can count on me!”
You nod, the faintest of smiles crossing your face. Kaeya almost feels as if he shouldn’t be witnessing such a sight, but he can’t help but stare in subtly open-mouthed awe until the smile disappears, and you begin leading him back into the east wing.
“How deep are the wounds?” You ask monotonously as you guide him to one of the chairs. He sits down without needing to be told, obediently holding out his right arm and allowing you to unfasten the cuffs and pull back his sleeves.
“Not deep enough to be too painful,” He answers, shivering slightly as he feels your cold fingers press into the skin around the wound, carefully prodding about to see the extent of the damage. “I’m sure that you’ll make quick work of it.”
His compliment doesn’t seem to affect you in the slightest - quite frankly, it’s a little disheartening how little you seem to care. “Then why didn’t you have Barbara heal your wounds for you? Do you think she is incapable?”
“No, not at all!” Kaeya hurries to answer, unnerved by the sudden narrowing of your normally calm eyes. “I just… rather like seeing you. That’s all.”
Your hands pause for the briefest of moments before returning to their work. Is Kaeya imagining the surprise that flashes across your face? “...is that so?”
“Of course...” He tries to offer a suave sort of smile, only to grimace when he feels you pinch the raw edges of his wound together in preparation to seal it.
You’re silent for a while, though Kaeya can’t quite tell if it’s because you’re absorbed in your work or if you’re thinking about something else. He tries not to stare, he really does, but you draw his eye with such deep compulsion that he can't seem to tear his eyes away.
Finally, your stern expression softening ever so slightly, you say, “...then you are welcome to come by whenever you please, injuries or not.”
He jolts so hard that he almost rips the wound open again as soon as you’ve sealed it, feeling a hot flush rise to his face. His mouth falls open, and he aggressively snaps it shut again as you look back up at him. “I…”
“Bennett has been rather vocal about his suspicions as to the frequency of your visits,” You say steadily and factually, a ghost of a smile tugging on your mouth. “I wasn’t sure whether to believe him before, but…”
“O-oh?” Kaeya pinches subtly at his own leg in an effort to snap himself back to his senses. Where on earth has all his charm and poise gone? He feels like a young boy again, stumbling over his words as his heart hammers like a drum in his heart. “What exactly has Bennett been saying?”
“He seems to be under the impression that you’re getting yourself injured deliberately,” You answer, and Kaeya mentally slaps himself. Of course he’d been too obvious. But, really, how else is he supposed to find an excuse to see you so often when you’re otherwise always so busy with patients?
“...I suppose I’ve been caught.” He raises his free hand to rub almost bashfully at the back of his neck. “Is it such a crime to want a reason to visit?”
You look him directly in the eyes, and he has to fight the urge not to throw his arms around you right then and there. How can one’s gaze be so blank and yet so warm at the same time? “Perhaps it would be better if you weren’t injured.”
“It’s the only way to make sure you’ll see me,” He chuckles. “You hardly ever seem to leave the hospital wing.”
You pause and frown slightly, as if confused, and the sight is so endearing that Kaeya doesn’t think his heart has ever felt so full. “...I don’t think I spend all my time here…”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever even seen you out on the streets,” He continues, fighting back a grin as you bring a hand to your chin, still looking rather puzzled. He pauses, taking in a breath, then asks, “Why don’t you stop by Angel’s Share in the evening some day?”
Your frown smooths out slightly, and you cock your head to the side. “...will you be there?”
His cheeks heat up again. “Of course - if you’d like me to be.”
You nod thoughtfully, pulling back from his arm. The wound is little more than a thin scar now. “I would.”
You shake your hand out briefly, coating it once again in your special brand of healing Cryo energy, and raise your frost-covered palm to the scratch in Kaeya’s cheek, only to see that he’s already staring intently at you. It’s almost unnerving how intense the glacial blue colour of his eyes is - so deep that you could almost be frozen in them completely, like a fly trapped in amber.
He moves the hand of his uninjured arm up to your own cheek, slowly, almost as if he’s in a trance. You can’t quite read the expression on his face - the gentle slope of his brows, the soft corners of his eyes, his ever-so-slightly ajar mouth - but it’s compelling in such a way that you can’t pull your gaze from his.
Almost abruptly, he smiles bright, eyes closing, and he leans forward. You freeze in place as he throws his uninjured arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, turning to press the softest of kisses to the side of your head.
“Kaeya?” You whisper, and his grip tightens slightly. He doesn’t respond, only laughs quietly, almost giddily, a deep sound that seems to reverberate through both your body and his.
You slowly raise your own arms and wrap them around him in turn, leaning into his touch. Kaeya laughs again, and this time you can’t help but smile, pressing yourself further into his embrace.
Footsteps and voices are approaching from somewhere far in the distance, and perhaps you hear a knock on the door, but in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. For now, the patients and healing can wait.
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mxtantrights · 3 years
Text
The magic-spy and the bird
the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3
dick Grayson x f!reader
Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.
“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.
He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.” 
You made a face at him.
“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.
You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.
“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.
Jason nodded along with you. 
“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.
“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked. 
Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite. 
“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.” 
“What are you a fortune cookie?” 
“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.” 
2 DAYS LATER 
You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine. 
“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.
“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”
Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.
You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.
“There she is!” he smiles.
Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.
You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.
You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.” 
“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.
You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.
“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.
You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.
“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.” 
Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.
“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.
“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.
“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.
He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”
“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.
Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”
“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”
“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.
Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.
“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.
You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.” 
“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.” 
“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”
EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER
You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.
After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.
You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.
At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you. 
“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.
You leaned against the hallway wall.
At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two. 
You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.
“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”
You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once. 
With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.
“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.
At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally. 
“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.
You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.
“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.
“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.
“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.
“Dont,” you started.
“No. We’re getting you out of there-”
“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.
Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19. 
Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him.  And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.
You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.
It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.
“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.
You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest. 
“Caliban?” you asked.
“You owe me double.”
4 DAYS LATER
When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.
You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.
“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.
It wakes everyone up.
Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.
“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.
“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.
Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.
“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.” 
You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”
You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well. 
As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.
“Hi.” you say.
His face softens, “Hi.”
“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.
With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”
You wince.
“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.” 
He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh. 
“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.
“He didn’t explicitly say that.” 
There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.
“What?” he asks.
“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.
The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.
He nods his head to himself. Twice.
“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door.  And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.
“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.
He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.
“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.
“it’s a date.” you answer.
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Text
Graveyard Siblings (3)
Some for revenge and some sibling bonding.
[Masterlist]
(Part 1)(Part 2)
-------
Adrien was next to be visited. Plagg woke him up from his sleep.
-------
“Kit, wake up. I want camembert.”
“Plagg, silence. You are not getting any cheese if you do that.”
“Sorry, Adrien but you are not my ‘master’ anymore.”
“Plagg? Why are you here? Where’s the ring?”
“The ring is as far away as possible and kept safely away. I am here because someone wants to talk to you.”
“Who?”
A cloaked, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to his room.
“Kitty. My Chaton. Did you miss me?” A sweet, familiar but yet so terrifying voice came from the figure.
She pulled down the hood to reveal Ladybug with a wicked-looking black mask with white lenses.
“What am I talking about? You do miss me. Your Bugaboo. Too bad I don’t feel the same, Adrien.”
Lightning flashed and it started to rain. The mask was gone, revealing his dead classmate, Marinette with chilling red eyes. The pigtails grew longer and curved upwards, giving the illusion of her having horns. Twin blades flashed and she leaped towards him. (Damian gave them to her with some lessons in exchange for spending time with, babysitting, the kwamis.)
Adrien scrambled away from the bed in the nick of time. A sword impaling the spot where he just was.
“Plagg, help. Where is the ring? I need to transform.”
“Sorry, kitten. I am not telling you. Even if you did have the ring, it’s not going to be much help.”
“Kitty, stay still. Then, we can be together. Just like you wanted.”
Adrien continued to dodge.
“What do you mean?” He all but screamed at Plagg.
“Pigtails, here, is a vengeful spirit. She’s not going to stop until she is satisfied. How about asking her what she wants?”
“Ladybug, what do you want?”
“What I wanted was a partner I could rely on, someone I can trust with my life, someone who wouldn’t stab me in the back for his own selfish gain. I wanted a friend who would have my back and not tell me to keep quiet at the price of my mental health and my relationships with people I care about. WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”
She managed to get a cut on his left cheek.
Soon, he was on the ground, bleeding out on the round.
“Tell Hawkmoth that he better watch out. Because-” lightning struck and Plagg and Ladybug had disappeared, “his downfall is coming.” Her voice echoed through his room.
Adrien laid bleeding until Natalie opened the door after hearing a crash from the room and came to check on him. As she called an ambulance for Adrien, she wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for redemption and be spared from Ladybug’s wrath for her part in her murder.
Adrien had the word ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his back. Forever reminding him of his crimes.
--------
He wasn’t in school for a week after the incident. They all were told that Adrien had an accident while fencing.
Gabriel was a little panicking now.
He hired an exorcist, (John Constantine got a hefty amount and did a few flashy magic tricks to appease Gabriel but he didn’t lift the curse Maria put on the place. She is not someone to be on the bad side of and he thinks that he can’t lift it even if he wanted to.)
Emilie gets a little sus at Gabriel when he brought this strange man with a British accent into their home after their son got attacked in his own room with security tighter than Fort Knox.
She doesn’t buy that ‘accident’ bullshit that her husband, son and even Natalie tries to sell her. She thinks it is connected to what happened while she was in a coma.
-----
Adrien has a curse too.
(Credit to @raeuberprinzessin for giving me an idea)
He couldn’t act like the ‘Perfect Adrien’ in public anymore. Acting more like Chat Noir at first then, later a spoiled brat. His friends thought that he was finally rebelling against his father and encouraged it a lot.
Adrien started criticizing other people, strangers at first then to the people working on the photoshoots to his fans to his other school mates, people in his class and his friends. (The curse planted ideas into his head about what he should say and he said them all without thinking about the effect it has on other people)
People started avoiding him not liking his attitude and his comments about how they should behave and change something about them because he doesn’t like it that way and guilt-tripping them when he doesn’t get his way. Even Nino started to distance himself after he saw how Adrien talked to a fan.
The public thought it was a phase but as he got progressively worse, people started despising him. Adrien doesn’t realize this of course so far, happy that his father let him get away with ‘ruining the Agreste image.’ (Gabriel was worried about a potential vengeful ghost and making sure his wife didn't know about his stint as a supervillain. There was also the fact that the Afterlife made more sales than him again and managed to get on the cover of Vogue when he should have, dammit.) He was finally able to say what he wanted to without repercussions. Until he realized when Nino and everyone else cancelled for a hangout for the third time that week that he was slowly losing his friends.
He panics and tries to fix the situation. He didn’t want to be alone again.
He talks to Nino about it and to his horror, he couldn’t stop himself from saying many things that were a little hurtful. (Second part. The moment he realizes he is going to be alone. He is going to find out that yes, lies can hurt people. He is going to see it happen firsthand.)
Nino moved seats and told Adrien that their friendship was on hold until he apologized.
Soon, nearly every time his mouth opened, lies and insults about his friends or their embarrassing secrets came spilling out. Everyone hated him now and Mme. Bustier tried to give him a reprimand about his behaviour, which when he tried to defend himself, he found himself unable to speak.
He managed to explain to his father what caused his unpopularity by writing what happened to him. Unfortunately due to his poor behaviour before the second part of the curse was activated, his fan base was dwindling and people didn’t like him anymore so there was a hit on the Gabriel brand.
He no longer has to do modeling, clearing his schedule. But no one would spend time with him.
The best solution he could do with his predicament was to keep quiet and endure the loneliness and the glares of his classmates at school. Adrien was relegated to the back and nearly everyone avoided him. He was now a social pariah.
Even Lila avoided him because of her own curse which made Adrien turn into one of her previous victims. (She also didn’t ponder why Marinette rarely appears compared to the others.)
If Adrien felt a tiny bit remorseful or guilty for making Marinette keep quiet or betraying Ladybug, he can gain a little control over what he says.
The curse can be broken if he apologizes to Maria herself or to her grave.
------
The first few months, while Marinette adapted to living with the Waynes, Jason stayed over at Wayne Manor because having Maria living with him at his apartment wasn’t a good idea and he had no clue how to take care of a teenage girl.
On paper she is adopted by Bruce because Jason can’t. (Some CPS reasons.)
Making Jason a little more salty towards Bruce. “I found her first. I called dibs.”
Brought Maria to meet the other Outlaws and they adopted her too. “Hey, guys. She’s my sister first.”
Jason was the one to teach her how to shoot a gun because he was ‘the most capable’ of teaching her.
The first few months were a little tense with Marinette not fully trusting them and the same with the rest of the Batfam.
Jason warmed her up a bit to him by telling a little of why he took her here.
He was also the one to book them flight to Paris with Bruce’s credit card so she can tell her friends that she wasn’t dead in person.
They bonded more after stopping some nefarious plot in Paris while they were there. Let’s say Gentleman Ghost and something involving the catacombs in Paris. (I watched some Batman: Brave and the Bold for childhood nostalgia.)
Kwamis were animal-shaped and they were interesting creatures to be around. And very very curious.
There was a stressful day for Maria when all the Kwamis decided to play hide and seek. Damian somehow got roped into helping her as the only available person in the Manor and he will deny that he enjoyed it.
Damian is the little brother she always wanted and she is more tolerable compared to his brothers. There is also the fact that she trusts him with the kwamis and deep down, he feels super-honoured. (I just love older sister!Mari)
Tim and her being insomniac/coffee buddies. There has been many many interventions to stop this.
I get that Marinette is this selfless person and loves making people happy but she has siblings now and them eating the stuff she made for herself to enjoy, should get on her nerves after a while.
She makes a box with booby-traps in which she puts in her cookies and food.
There are many different layers of traps because this is the Batfam and each of them is non-lethal and more ridiculous.
Okay, I once read a fic about Marinette making a bear-trap style box to hide the Miracle Box so this box is also like that but kept for food. (Traps and Sneaks by quicksilversquared)
Someone (I vote a hungry Dick or Jason, maybe a suspicious Bruce) made a mistake of putting their hand into the box and the first trap activated.
Screams filled the house.
Everyone came down including Marinette.
Bruce asked, “Who did this?”
“It was me.”
“Why?”
“They kept eating the cookies.”
“There are other ways to stop them from doing that you know like a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign not a death trap box.”
“They are non-lethal.”
Bruce locked it away but Tim later stole it to tweak it and store his coffee. ------ (Part 4)
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belphies-pillow · 3 years
Note
Pfffff, I reas the granny headcanons and the instant thought that came to my mind is "What if MC was literally an infant?" Like, they literally kidnapped a baby for a demon exchange program. *insert panicking brother noises*
Bahahaha!!!! I’m going to operate under the premise that for some extenuating circumstance they can’t send MC back right away.
Demon Brother’s Reactions to a Baby MC!
Warnings: Infant!GN!MC, minor plot spoilers, minor characteristic spoilers.
Assembled in the student council hall the bro’s (along with Diavolo) sat in their respective seats, getting ready for the imminent arrival of the newest exchange student. “My Lord. The preparations are complete, I can open the portal at any time.” “Wonderful Barbatos! Let’s not wait any longer!”
With that the air in the room became heavy and a bright light flashed around the ground level chair the student would pass through the portal too. As the light started to fade all of the collective demons began whispering and leaned forward curious to get their first peek at the human!
What came next was complete silence.
“Hey Lu, is somethin’ wrong with ‘em? They’re so small!”
*Lucifer shell shocked staring at the baby*
*Baby staring right back*
Lucifer: “.......” *blinks*
Baby: “WAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!”
After a few moments of panicking and wailing (from both demons and baby) they are informed by Barbatos that for some unknown reason he can’t reopen the portal....Congrats bros! You’re all honorary demon daddies!
Lucifer:
Slinked out while everyone was trying to calm the baby down. He took pride in being an intimidating demon of status but when the baby looked at him and started to cry? He felt bad..... such a tiny, innocent little being and he made them cry. That stings the pride. Takes the longest to warm up to the baby for that reason. Ended up bonding with MC when he had to take over for Mammon after Mams got a last minute modeling gig. He came back home late and went to Lucifer’s study to take MC back. Upon walking in, he saw Lucifer reclined back in his office chair asleep with lil MC snuggled up snoozing away on his chest. After snapping a few pictures for blackmail, and stealing a valuable lamp, he quietly left the office. Spoiler alert! No one can get MC back from Luci, that’s his baby now.
Mammon:
Did a combination of attempted tsundere and failed, panic and omfg I love this baby and will burn all three realms if something happens to them!!!! As soon as MC looked at him with those little tear filled doe eyes, *guardian demon mode engaged* he shocked everyone by pushing them all aside, picking MC up holding them protectively to his chest and started rocking them. MC had Mams wrapped around their little finger by the time they finished the walk back to the house of lamentation. If everyone was in a state of shock before, what followed next was a sign of the apocalypse........
HE GAVE GOLDIE TO SATAN AND ASMO TO GO BUY WHATEVER THE BABY NEEDS!!!!
yes, you read that right. Satan had already reading a baby caregiving book as they walked, calling in favors from his network of people to help find what he needs. Mammon sends Asmo with him cause well, who knows fashion better? Demands the bassinet be set up in his room and watches his brothers like a crow hawk when they interact or hold MC. Even got one of the baby harness carriers so MC can come to RAD with him and unashamedly baby talks to them. One time a demon tried to make fun of him for it.....once. Mams impressed even Lucifer by managing to go demon form, put aforementioned asshole demon in a chokehold in one arm, while whisper threatening their life. With a peacefully sleeping MC in the other.
Don’t mess with Mams baby human.....
Leviathan:
An awkward bean, but he tries! Takes on the role of primary playmate. Will put the baby in his lap and their little hands on the game controller to play with the buttons. MC gets such a kick out of it! He also likes to show them his aquarium tanks. MC is fascinated by the whole aesthetic and belly laughs whenever Henry swims by. Also finds age appropriate anime shows he thinks MC will like. Still devastated that they had no interest in TSL.
Satan:
Was the one who helped calm the baby down. He quickly pulled up a playlist of cute cat videos on his D.D.D. and managed to distract MC so that the rocking motion in Mam’s arms started to soothe them to sleep. Once that was accomplished, ran to the library to grab a pile of books on child rearing and on the way home called every witch he knew that has children to get advice.
Nearly had a stroke when Mammon handed him Goldie! Went into town with Asmo and got the essential items (Diapers, formula, bottles, the bassinet/ bedding may or may not be cat themed) and left Asmo to pick out clothing. LOVES, LOVES, LOVES to teach the baby things! Always gushing about how smart MC is! Beats even Asmo with how many videos on his Devilgram there are of MC.
Will sooner tell Lucifer he loves him before he’ll ever admit it but avatar of catnip teared up when MC took those wobbly first few steps.
Asmo:
Always squealing with delight over every cute little thing MC does! “Look at that perfect little nose and sweet smile! You love Asmo the best don’t you ?” *death glare from Mammon*
Had the most fun in ages buying clothes. MC is literally the most stylish baby in the devildom. He actually started a second Devilgram account solely dedicated to posting MC’s daily style. It’s become one of the most popular accounts! Even rivaling Asmo’s main one.
Every morning he goes into Mammon’s room and picks out MC’s outfit for the day. Will pick up, hold, fuss and coo over MC but is mysteriously no where to be found with more of the tedious duties. He tried to feed them their bottle once but became almost catatonic when MC spit up on his designer shirt. The most traumatizing thing for him was an attempted poopy diaper change....you know those funny videos on YouTube where the dads are trying to change the baby’s diaper with gloves and a mask on while gagging and dry heaving?
Yeeeahh that was him, once Mammers stopped laughing long enough to pick himself up off the floor he took over.
Beelzebub and Belphegor:
They adore MC! As far as they’re concerned that’s their new baby sibling. They asked Satan to teach them all the child rearing things he learned and love to take care of them! Will work together to take of the baby. Beel likes to feed the baby but needed a wee bit of instruction first.
“Beel....you can’t feed the baby a turkey leg.”
“Why not? it’s delicious!” *drools*
“They don’t have any teeth yet! Not to mention the turkey leg’s bigger than they are..”
Don’t worry! He gets the hang of it! 😆
Belphie assists Beel whenever he can. Doesn’t mind changing diapers or anything. The only problem is that for a non incarnate of sloth, caring for a baby can be absolutely exhausting, but for Belphie? It’s like a daily triathlon. Sleeps when the baby does. There was one time Belphie woke up to find himself swaddled in a blanket along with MC. *side eyes Mammon and Levi*
The special bonding thing Cow Husband likes to do with MC is too take them into the planetarium, not only to look at the sky but he loves to tell MC all the fun memories he has of Beel, Him and Lilith growing up. It heals a wound on heart he thought would bleed forever whenever little MC smiles.
Thank you so much for the request! 💜🖤🤍
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harrysweasleys · 3 years
Text
show and tell // g.w
summary: the four times george shows you he loves you before he says it for the first time.
warnings: injury, blood, broken bones, sickness, mentions of nudity and food
word count: 5k
a/n: this was so much fun to write!! i hope you all enjoy :) x
———————————————————————
one
It was mid-march and the spring sunshine felt as if it were everlasting. From the moment you woke up, to the late evening, the golden rays illuminated the fields around the Burrow and brought a sense of warmth and comfort. As if you were away from the rest of the world, practically untouched by civilization.
It was the epitome of peaceful.
Even in the peak of the afternoon, while Molly and Arthur bustled about the house, and while the gaggle of Weasley children decided to take advantage of the weather and challenge one another to a playful Quidditch game.
You weren’t really sure why they chose to call it playful, per say. They were all awfully competitive. Last week, Ginny was knocked off of her broom and into the pond. Luckily, she sustained no injuries, but it was still a rather intense sight. About a month back, Bill had decided to join, and had to use his wand to repair a black eye.
Safe to say, as you sat on a small lounge chair and watched over, that you were nervous. Your eyes felt as if they were locked on George’s every move. That if you looked away, he’d end up toppling to the ground in a mess of long limbs and ginger hair.
“You sure you don’t want to join?” Ginny called down to you, hovering a few feet away on her rather mangled broom that she most likely used in childhood before she got her much nicer one for the Gryffindor team.
You shook your head, squinting as you looked up, “I’ll pass. I’m much better as a spectator.”
She shrugged, her braid flipping over her shoulder as she took off back towards the make-shift pitch.
The game went as it always did — the same teams, the same keepers, the same chasers and beaters, and of course, Harry and Ginny as rival seekers. Nothing was really new there.
George looked rather at ease on his broom. It was a sight you loved to see. You knew that work stressed him out, that he was always trying to improve every aspect of his business and it was one of the things that swirled in his mind constantly. But seeing him here, in what appeared to be his element, brought a smile to your face.
Unfortunately, that smile was wiped off rather quickly when he collided with Ginny not even five minutes into the match. She ended up collecting her wits and balance, staying up in the air. George, however, did not.
Luckily for him, he was only a few feet off the ground. But the sickening crunch that he made when he landed flat on his face was the furthest thing from “lucky” that you could think of.
You shot up off of your chair in a panicked heartbeat, rushing over to where his body lay limp on the ground. You could feel your body grow warm in worry.
“George!” you crouched next to him and placed one of your hands on his forearm, “Georgie, are you okay?”
He let out a groan, rolling over onto his back. A stream of blood rushed down from his nose, which already looked off coloured and crooked. Broken, no doubt.
“Is it bad?” he asked, his eyes squinted shut.
You winced, trying to avoid looking at the damage on his face, “I’m really not the person to ask.”
He began to sit up, groaning a bit as he did so, and slowly opened his eyes. He brought one of his hands — one that was already covered in a mixture of dirt and sweat — and brought it to his face, wiping it across his mouth and chin.
As he pulled it away and spotted the crimson liquid on his fingertips, he let out a mutter of a curse.
“I’m bowing out of the match,” he called up to his siblings, all hovering nearby to see if he was alright, before pointing at his face, “I’m gonna go clean this up.”
His hair was matted down to his head from sweat, as well as his clothes practically clinging to his body, but you wasted no time in grabbing on to him to hoist him up. You weren’t overly familiar with injuries, since you were in no means a Healer, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to help.
“Let’s get you to the washroom,” you held his arm, leading him into the house and guiding him since his head was tilted back, pinching his nose to prevent any more bleeding.
On the way into the tiny washroom, you grabbed your wand that was sitting on the dining room table. Hermione had taught you the spell for repairing a broken nose, and though you’ve never performed it before, you had to give it a shot.
“I should be alright,” he muttered with his hand still pinched on his nose, his other free hand rummaging across the cluttered countertop to try and find the tissues.
You gently whacked his hand away, “Stop. Let me help.”
You began guiding him over to the edge of the countertop, bringing him closer until yourself pinned right between his body and the sink. So, you gave him a little shove, hopped up onto the cold tile, and brought him close. His body stood between your legs, your feet immediately wrapping around his torso so that he could stand still and close, enough so that you could try your best to fix the damage from his fall.
“If I wasn’t bleeding, I’d rather enjoy this position,” you could hear the handsome smirk in his voice, even as you grabbed a handful of tissues and placed them under the running water of the sink.
“Oh, shove it,” you chuckled, taking one of the wet tissues and turning to face him. He was still pinching his nose, but he was now facing you.
You began to dab at his chin, glad that the blood hadn’t had time to dry so it was rather easy to wipe off. He didn’t wince, but then again, you imagined a majority of the pain was probably in his nose. George had a high tolerance for pain, which was something that was probably built up after years of testing products on himself. Especially those damn nosebleed nougats.
“Oh, wait, I’m an idiot,” you scoffed, pressing the tissue to his face with one hand as you reached for your wand with the other, “Let me fix your nose first.”
His eyes widened at the sight of the wand in your hand, and he shuffled back a few inches, “Merlin, are you sure? You’ve never fixed a nose before.”
You tossed the used tissue into the bin before grabbing another one, this time holding it right against his nostrils, “Just let me do this. It’s one spell, how hard can it be?”
The hesitation flashed through his eyes before he slowly nodded his head, “Fine, fine, I trust you.”
Through the nervous beating of your heart, you managed to smile. Those three words caused all of your unease to drift away, your focus landing solely on the one word you had to mutter.
He took a step back, this time in confidence.
Instead of making the poor man wait in pain while you went over the consequences in your head, you lifted your wand and spoke, “Episkey.”
The crunch was quiet, but George’s eyes shot open and he bit down on his lower lip, a muffled shout of pain getting stuck in his throat as one of his hands grabbed your thigh, giving it a squeeze that was bound to leave a bruise.
“Oh, Merlin, are you okay?” you asked, tossing your wand aside and placing your hands on either side of his face. His cheeks were awfully warm despite how pale they had just become, and you felt the tenseness of his muscles as he stepped back between your open legs. His grip on your thigh didn’t lighten up, and you felt a surge of guilt bubble up into your belly.
“Georgie?” you asked more softly this time, one of your hands running through his sticky hair, “Did I make it worse?”
He shook his head, not exactly speaking, but giving you the answer you needed, “‘s fine.”
You gave a small pout, taking your hands away from him to avoid causing overstimulation. Though, as soon as your hands left his skin, he put his own hands on yours and guided them back up into his hair.
You gave him a puzzled look as you began to run your fingers along his scalp again, but he quickly answered your silent question, “Feels nice.”
His smirk returned to his lips and you rolled your eyes, immediately realizing you fell into his trap, “Oh, you little git. You’re fine, aren’t you?”
His laughter echoed in the small bathroom and managed to ease all of the worry and panic that was swarming through your mind, “No, it does hurt, but it’s not that bad. I do really like you playing nurse though, love. I should fall off my broom more often, yeah?”
You tossed a tissue at him, your own laughter bubbling in your chest, “Don’t you dare think about it, Weasley.”
“C’mon, love,” he grinned, bringing his face closer to yours, only to have you push him away.
“We are cleaning up the mess that is your face before you kiss me,” you smirked, holding up another tissue. He rolled his eyes and let out a groan, but he let you continue dabbing at his skin until he was all cleaned up. His nose was left with some light bruising, but you barely even focused on that after his little painful performance he decided to put on.
It really was never a dull moment.
———————————————————————
two
George’s birthday came around way too quickly for your liking. You remembered New Years Eve as clearly as if it were yesterday, and now here you were, on April the first, knocking loudly at his door at nearly eight thirty in the morning.
It was still early in the day — you guys would be headed to the burrow for dinner with his family in the late afternoon — but you decided to pay him a little surprise and pop by his flat with a few gifts and sweets in the morning before being whisked away. You always enjoyed the private moments between the two of you, and this was no different.
His face appeared in the doorway mere seconds later, his hair sticking up in countless spots, and his baggy jammies hanging loosely around his body. His cheeks were flushed pink at the sight of you standing there; a bag of gifts in one hand and a plate with a tiny cupcake in the other, one little candle on the top with a flame that you had enchanted not to burn out until he made his wish.
“Happy birthday!” you grinned, flashing him your best smile despite the urge to laugh at his disheveled appearance. He seemed to have just gotten out of bed. You had spent the night with George before, usually if he had the next day off and the two of you could laze around in the morning, and there was one conclusion you could make from it.
George was not a morning person.
However, through his sleepy state, he shot you a bright smile, “Look at you, coming by to be my gift.”
You rolled your eyes as he moved aside, letting you walk into his flat, “I’m not the gift. But I do come bearing some.” You placed the bag on the floor and stuck out the plate, handing him the cupcake. His smile never faded as he took it from you, holding it in one hand and the other went to his chin, pretending to ponder.
“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes scanning over his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. He looked deep in thought.
“Gotta make a wish, right?” he replied, “Though, you’re all I could ever wish for and you’re right here.”
You felt an eruption of fluttering in your chest at his sweet words — he really was quite the flirt — but you brushed it aside and removed your coat, placing it on the hook behind you before turning back to him, “Make your wish, you idiot.”
He smirked, shooting you a cheeky wink before he closed his eyes and blew on the candle, the little flame dying down quickly.
“See?” you chuckled, now removing your shoes so you could properly enter the flat, “Was that so hard?”
He stuck out his tongue, one of his fingers dipping into the icing of the cupcake. You were too busy focusing on carrying the bag of gifts, however, that you hadn’t noticed his icing covered finger reaching in your direction. So, as you turned back to face him, it smeared across your cheek.
“That’s what you get for being mean on my birthday,” he raised an eyebrow, proceeding to walk over to the couch in the living room, your own footsteps following closely behind him. The icing was sticky against your skin, but you were too busy trying to get even to even bother wiping it off.
You finally caught up to him, grabbing the cupcake out of his grasp and holding it away from him, scooping up some of the icing and smearing it across his lips. 
He looked quite amused, nodding his head slowly as he started licking his lips, “Nice try, love.”
“Oi, just shut up and sit down,” you scoffed, grabbing a tissue from the end table and wiping the icing off of your face, tossing the tissue in the bin before reaching over and grabbing a box out of the bag, “Now. Let me spoil you, yeah?”
You sat next to him on the couch and placed the box in his lap.
He leaned over and pressed his lips against your cheek, placing a delicate kiss before pulling away, “You already spoil me enough just being with me.”
You shook your head and let out a laugh, motioning your head in the direction of the box once again, before he finally proceeded to open it.
It didn’t take long for him to go through his gifts. Five boxes later, and he now had a few new things for around the house. Not that he needed appliances, really. He was a wizard. But he had mentioned to you a few times that he was starting to attempt doing a few things the “muggle way.”
“This is all brilliant,” he grinned, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his side, “Thank you, love.”
You leaned up and pressed a light kiss on his jawline, not missing the way his body shivered at your touch. It brought you a sense of pride, honestly, the fact that you were able to have this affect on him.
“However, there is one more gift to open,” he said, sitting up from his spot on the couch so quickly it nearly knocked you backwards.
“There is?” you asked, peering around the flat to see if there was another parcel. Maybe Fred had stopped by to give his twin a gift before the party at the Burrow.
“Sit right here,” he held up one finger before bolting into the bedroom, disappearing from view for a few moments. Maybe his parents had dropped something off?
He came back into the living room, a box in his hands with big letters on the side that read Y/N. You furrowed your eyebrows as he placed it in your lap, a pleased grin on his face.
“What the bloody hell is this?” you asked, not even masking your confusion, “It’s your birthday, in case you’ve forgotten.”
He nodded, the smirk still on his lips, “Why, yes, I haven’t forgotten. But I figured for my birthday, what I want to do is spoil my girl.”
You shook your head, letting your head fall back onto the couch cushion — the couch that had once belonged to his brother Bill before he moved in with Fleur — and let out a laugh, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“Just open it,” he placed a kiss on your temple, your heart in your chest feeling like it was about to burst.
You let out a breathy laugh and began to unwrap the box, opening it up to reveal a lumpy knitted sweater, the first letter of your name written out in the centre of it. It was perfect. Homely, and clearly made with love. You knew Molly knitted these for her children every year, but you didn’t expect to get one so soon, let alone ever.
“Oh, George. Your mum made me one?” you asked, voice filled with awe as you picked up the jumper, holding it against your chest as if you were hugging it. This honestly meant more to you than you could express.
“No,” he grinned, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually made that. Mum taught me a few years back and I never thought it would come in handy, but here we are.”
Your eyes widened at his words, heart so full that you could barely find the words to reply. If you weren’t so shocked, you might find yourself word-vomiting a bunch of lovey dovey nonsense. But you couldn’t. You honestly couldn’t speak.
“You’re part of the family now,” he broke the silence, one of his hands finding its way into your hair and giving a small twirl, “I want you to know that.”
You felt an itchiness in the back of your throat and you knew your emotions would get the best of you, so instead of speaking up, you decided to toss your arms around his neck and hold him as close as possible, the new jumper squeezed between the two of you as if it were holding you together. Which, in a way, it was.
George really was amazing, and there was no doubt that you were starting to fall for him. But this gesture, this gift, was beyond that.
It showed you that maybe, possibly, he was the one.
———————————————————————
three
Two days after George’s birthday, which had been a long and tiring evening at the Burrow celebrating another year of Fred and George, you found yourself feeling a little under the weather.
It was most likely not from Molly’s meal assortment, but possibly from standing outside in the chilly weather to watch the fun little firework display the twins had decided to put on for themselves. Plus, you were pretty sure Charlie had shown up with a cold as well.
You had woken up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, your head unfortunately feeling quite congested as well. As if a throbbing migraine was bubbling just below the surface.
To simply put it, you were most likely coming down with said cold.
You had woken up in a rush, immediately reaching for the tissue box to clear your sinuses, but in the process of doing so, happened to wake up the ever-so-sleepy George next to you.
His arm retracted from around your waist and he rubbed his eyes with his hand, squinting to look over at you, “Are you okay?”
His voice was heavily laced with sleep and you felt bad for waking him up, but the gross feeling of sickness was a little too overbearing for you to really worry about disrupting his sleep schedule.
“Sorry, Georgie,” you replied, holding a tissue to your nose, “I think I stood a little too close to Charlie and he passed his germs onto me.”
George’s head fell back onto his pillow, “Git.” You let out a small laugh as he shoved the blanket off of his body and onto yours, all the warmth that his body produced now gone as he got out of bed. A whine left your throat and you reached out, trying to grab his hand and pull him back down.
He tossed on a shirt and turned to face you, “Be back in a second, love. Just gotta do something.”
A pout made its way onto your lips as he left the room, his disheveled morning hair disappearing through the bedroom door. You didn’t necessarily want to pass your possible sickness onto him — you’d only end up feeling guilty and responsible — but you already missed the comfort that he brought when he laid next to you. Even though he had been gone for a total of ten seconds.
You could hear noises as he rummaged through the kitchen, but you didn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. The throbbing in your head would make it hard for you to even have proper balance. You didn’t want to make it worse.
It didn’t take long for George to return, a small tray in his hands and a smile on his lips. You sat up properly, trying to get a peek as to what he had with him.
“For you, my princess,” he gave you a quick wink, placing the tray next to you on the bed.
Your heart swelled. He had brought you breakfast. A plate filled with fruits and a cup of tea sat nearly on the tray, smelling and looking more delicious than ever. Maybe it was because of the thought and love he put into it, but you honestly couldn’t wait to dive in.
“You made me breakfast?” you asked softly, looking up at him as you moved the tray onto your lap.
“I did,” he slid back under the blankets next to you, one of his hands finding yours and giving it a light squeeze, “The tea will help soothe your throat and the vitamins in the fruits will help you feel better.”
The smile on your face was so wide, you swore it reaches your ears, “Georgie, this is so sweet.”
“Well, what can I say? I’m the best.”
You gave him a poke in the shoulder, laughing at his cockiness, “That you are. That you are.”
———————————————————————
four
Unfortunately, George had caught your cold. And he loved to complain about it. Every second he could possibly find to bring it up, he would. Not to blame you, of course, but to milk it as much as possible so that you could take care of him. 
Not that you could do much, really, since you were still nursing your own annoying sickness. But you did try to help as much as you could. You’d made a soup, he’d make the tea. It was a compromise that helped the both of you.
However, one afternoon, when the two of you started to feel better, George had decided to take matters into his own hands and bring a little life back to the flat. 
“Dance with me,” he spoke out of the blue, coming up to you on the couch where you were currently quite content reading away.
“What?” you placed your bookmark in your page, placing the book onto the cushion next to you, “Now?”
He nodded, picking his wand up off of the end table and pointing it in the direction of the little radio by the window. An old tune — one that sounded a lot like the song that played at the Yule Ball, funnily enough — started playing throughout the room.
You shook your head, a small laugh leaving your lips as you placed your hand in his, “Since when are you a dancer, George Weasley?”
“For you, always,” he smirked, leading you to the open area of the room, one of his hands immediately finding your lower back. You felt your chest grow fluttery at his touch, every previous thought leaving your body as you melted into him.
Your hand linked in his, the other one resting against his shoulder. His eyes found yours and he gave you a genuine smile. Nothing cocky or teasing. Just a real, fond smile. 
“What’s this for, then?” you found your voice, the two of you moving in slow circles around the small space.
It wasn’t much, and neither of you were good at it, but it was romantic. You hadn’t even noticed that George had used his wand to light a few candles, the light of the flames dancing against the walls. 
“What?” he asked with a slight upturn of his chin, “Can’t a bloke just dance with his girl?”
You ignored the feeling of your heart swelling and gave him a grin, “Yes, actually. I think he can.”
The music was soft, but it was enough to really set the mood. As if you were a princess dancing with her prince, the world disappearing around the both of you and leaving you alone to dance under the moonlight. Or, really, the two of you alone in a small London flat. But a girl can dream, right?
George’s chest was warm as you pressed your forehead against it, revelling in this feeling of privacy and intimacy. You felt untouchable. 
“You’re really special, you know that?” his voice was soft, mouth close to your ear as he mumbled the words. 
You pulled away just enough to look up at him. There was something in his eyes — love, pride, admiration, or something similar — and you really did feel like you were all he could see. Like he had eyes only for you. 
“Could say the same about you,” your voice matched his in softness, eyes darting back and forth between his eyes and his lips. 
He beat you to the action, though, as he tilted his head down and closed the space between the two of you, warm lips pressed softly against yours. A million different feelings bubbled in the pit of your belly and you swore you would crack under the heavy blissful peace that soared through you. 
You loved him. 
There was no way you could deny it. 
Especially as the two of you stood there; lips moulded together as if they were meant to be, your bodies pressed against one another, and an unspoken mutual feeling of adoration passing between you two. 
You really did love him. And you hoped he loved you back. 
———————————————————————
one
The water of the bath was awfully warm. Perfect to contrast the gloomy grey skies and heavy raindrops that came down loudly against the window. For nearly mid-April, the weather was still awfully dreary. 
George’s fingers traced up and down your arms, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake despite the warmth of the bath water. It was warm enough to cause light steam to build on the mirror, and for the two glasses on the edge of the tub to build condensation, but not warm enough to deter your body’s natural reaction to George. 
Your head was resting against his chest, one of his hands against your skin and the other in your wet hair — which much to your dismay, was let down from the ponytail in which it was previously in. George’s orders, of course. 
“You smell nice,” he mumbled, his head leaned back against the tub, his own hair sticking up in spikes after he dipped his head under water, “So do I, actually.”
“It’s the soap, you goon,” you giggled, “That’s what soap does.”
“Goon?” he lifted his head, causing you to turn around and face him, your own body still resting against his, the feeling of his bare skin against yours causing a warmth to spread in your chest. 
“You’re a cute goon, though,” you winked, lifting one of your hands to flatten down his hair, “So it’s fine.”
He nodded, “Right. You’re lucky I love you.”
Not only did it feel like time stood still, but it felt like the both of you did too. The water went silent at the lack of movement, and the eye contact between the both of you felt so prolonged that neither of you could blink. 
Did he just say what you thought he said?
You knew, undoubtedly, that you had fallen head over feels for the ginger boy in front of you. He was the perfect partner in every sense of the word, really. He was caring, he was gentle, he was exciting, and he loved you. 
“You love me?” your voice felt as if it were bound to crack. You didn’t want to move or sit up, too afraid to disturb the moment. To break the connection that had been built with those three words. 
It was as if he himself wasn’t sure he had said them, but by the light smile that graced his gorgeous freckled face, you could tell he meant it. 
“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, “I dunno why it took me so bloody long to say it. But yes, I love you.”
A weight felt like it had been lifted off of your shoulders at the confession, a wave of powerful emotions threatening to smother you in replacement. 
“I love you too,” you didn’t even hesitate to say the words as you were so utterly sure of them. 
The tips of his ears turned a light shade of pink as his smile grew, lopsided and genuine, “That’s good, then.”
It was nearly impossible to hide your pure thrill, arms finding their way around his neck in an instant. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his right back around you, holding your body against his as if he were too bloody pleased to let go. 
“I love you,” he said again, so softly you barely even registered. If you were an inch further away, you might not have even heard it. 
You placed a light kiss on the underside of his jaw, once again relishing in the pride that blossomed at his involuntary shiver, “I love you too, Georgie.”
And Godric, did you ever. 
———
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