This beautiful art, “3 Years” by Marie inspired an 8k reunion story I’ve titled “Three Years” in its honour. It is a loving story where things went quite differently than what we know. The way I would have liked to see. Sharing today because I really need something to smile about. I’m tagging some people who might like to give it a try.
And what an amazing one it is. This is the reunion we all hoped for. This is how it should have been. Made me constantly switch between a heart bursting of happiness and crying ugly tears because of all the feels…
Go read if you haven’t yet. Give your Reichenbach-bruised heart some healing.
Celebrating the 2nd anniversary of the Schitt’s Creek finale:
“What I wanted for our series finale was just a great [expletive] episode of TV,” he said. “I think that’s all people want. They don’t need a huge fireworks display. They just want to know that the characters are going to be O.K.”
Posted last night as part of @whiteleyfoster’s Write This In Your Style challenge! There’s quite a number of fics there, so browse them all!
Across the centuries, Crowley comes to his favorite chateau, to watch his favorite angel at work and listen to his favorite poetry…
A centuries-long tale of devotion, pining, and love that is at once illicit and elevating, passionate and disciplined, human and transcendent… courtly love.
Crowley’s eyes stayed locked on the trobairitz and the crowd of men hanging on her every word. “What can I say? With entertainment like this, I barely need to lift a finger.”
A mildly annoyed tsk. “I hardly think a little flirtation even counts as wickedness.”
“Does if they’re already married.” She thought over the angel’s statement again, then snapped her head around, eyes wide, to study him. “Hang on, are you saying—”
“I’msaying that I expected you to be here because you always lurk in this corner when we come to Soifort.” The hall had changed very little in two hundred years. The tapestries were more numerous and complex, the stained-glass windows brighter, and the guests more vivacious. Aziraphale had changed even less, though his tunic hung longer and now incorporated a great deal more silk, particularly in the long flowing sleeves, and his cloak was now pinned on the right. But the most startling change was the look in his eyes. They shone merrily in the dim hall, and cast a light, a heat Crowley had only glimpsed a few times before. “Don’t expect me to do your work for you again.”
“Already done. Just taking a well-deserved break.” Crowley pushed away from the wall, circling Aziraphale, the dark train of her bliaut trailing behind her. “Or didn’t you notice this entire region has fallen to heresy?”
“Oh? And I’m to believe this was yourdoing?” He laughed, a delightful sound echoing through the room. “My dear lady, I doubt you could even tell me what Catharism is.”
Sum’:Once again trouble fall upon the peaceful coven, spreading its darkness on each Hook. Only this time only one will remain and with the help of the Savior, will decide the fate of the rest of their secret family…
Note:Oh dear. That’s it, that’s the last chapter! What a ride my friends, it has been an amazing journey to write but also by reading all your reactions. I know I haven’t answered to all of them but know that every words, tag or “!!” got me smiling ♥ So I hope you enjoyed that story and on that I will let your read another small view of the coven..(that might come in visual one day ;)) Again, a hell of a thanks to @hookaroo for her amazing beta and reactions
——————————–
The place in front of him was peaceful, almost heaven-like, smelling of home. The big house proudly standing in the middle of the clearing, emitting a welcoming warmth. A gentle breeze blowing through the tall trees surrounding the coven. Killian took the time to enjoy the familiar view, inhaling each scent the wind was carrying.
“i don’t feel the same way, charmer.” his voice was barely a whisper.
sole felt a lump grow in their throat as they tried to fight back the tears that threatened to escape. they tried to let out a simple, “okay, i understand,” but only silence filled the air.
deacon knows. he catches the tears building up in their eyes and knows their voice is silently attempting to scratch its way out.
he desperately wants to stop their pain, wipe their tears and remind them that he thinks no differently of their relationship, but something in his heart tugs as sole fights back to hide their vulnerability from him. “i’m sorry.” is all he truly lets out because in reality, his words are just as lost as soles own.
to sole, his words become a blur. their knees become weak as their vision becomes clouded with tears they refuse to let out.
‘i’ll give them time,’ he thinks but his feet struggle to find movement as he continues to stare down at sole, speechless for the first time in a long while.
before he could make a move, sole rushes out of the room, not sparing him a second glance. the sound of the door shutting behind him breaks deacon out of his trance, grounding him back to reality.
a tinge of regret pokes at his heart and he silently pushes it away, knowing that this was for the best. he didn’t have feelings for them and it was nothing but the truth.
or so he thought.
-
the next few weeks are almost a blur for him as his partner goes mia from the commonwealth. the first two weeks, he tries to let it be, convincing himself that sole might’ve needed some time to themselves to sort their feelings out, so he lets them. seeing them might be the last thing they need, so he tries to fight the urge to do so.
yet, as time goes by, the worry in his heart rapidly grows when they’re announced as missing by the minutemen. he grows unnaturally quiet upon hearing their words and feels himself grow weak at the possibilities of what could’ve happened to his partner.
searching far and wide did almost nothing for him and only flared his concern. there was little to no clues of their disappearance and the hope that he would find them sooner or later began to slowly deteriorate.
deacon takes in a deep breath, trying to soothe his mind of all the concern and regret. how could he let it get this bad? why couldn’t he at least check up on them day to day instead of running away?
deep down, he knew the truth of it all. it screamed volumes to him and no matter how much he tried to silence it, it grew louder with every passing second. he avoided sole as much as they avoided him because deacon refused to confront the truth between them both. he never provided closure because he never knew how to.
and the more he refused to face the reality of the situation, the longer the days stretched. he found himself pushing everyone away, spending countless nights with tears streaming down his face, hoping someday sole would just turn up on the railroads doorstep. he didn’t care if they forgave him or not— he just wanted to see them safe.
tonight, he found himself with a bottle in his hand, hunching over the counter as he drank the night. he silently thanked lady luck for landing him in an almost empty bar for no one to catch the state he put himself in. unbeknownst to him, a certain mercenary watched his back from the minute he’s entered the bar till the very last drop of his nth bottle.
“you know, i don’t think that’s a very healthy thing to do.” deacon looked over his shoulder, and though his vision continued to spin, he automatically recognized the annoying face that pestered him.
“let a man ‘ave fun, asshole.” he slurred, trying to push out a grin. maccready rolled his eyes and occupied the seat near deacon, folding his arms.
“i’m serious.” mac pulled the bottle away from his hands, tossing it to the bin nearby.
“hey, i was-!” before he could finish, the mercenary cut him off, not wanting to listen to a word that left his mouth. “do you wanna talk about it?”
his words cut through the facade he tried to pull off and deacon immediately fell silent upon his words. “i know we don’t meet eye to eye all that much, but i hate to see you like this.”
as much as he wanted to lie to his face, continue his said facade, he wasn’t physically able to upkeep that image anymore. it was extremely tiring, especially with everything going on. he let out a sigh and allowed his head to fall on his arms that rested on the table. “you wouldn’ understan’.”
theres a pregnant pause, but he eventually responds. “i don’t, but i could try.”
it takes him a few moments to decide whether or not to confide in someone, especially maccready of all people. to his dismay, the words leave his mouth before he could stop himself from letting it out.
“you won’t tell?” it’s a point of no return— he knows — but for some reason, he doesn’t take it back. was the consequences of actions finally getting to him? probably. he didn’t have time to think as maccready let out a small, but shocked, “of course.”
and so he lets it out— not everything — but enough for maccready to get the message. how it all lead up this point and how it contributed to their disappearance.
“i think i made a mistake.” he says, voice barely a whisper. “i made a huge fucking mistake and i don’t know what to do.”
mac looks down at agent with sympathy, detecting the pain trapped in his voice and sighs, “we all do. it’s just the human in us.”
the rest of his words grow obscured as his eyes droop, the alcohol and sleepless nights finally catching up to him. slowly, but surely, the world blacks out.
-
it’s almost dreamlike— the feeling of his hair being brushed softly and the way a familiar voice lulls him awake. he lets out a small groan as his head pounds violently from what he hoped was the night before. he thinks it’s all in his head; the soft touches and the soft voice that continued to fall upon his ears. it’s so painfully familiar, yet it couldn’t be but he felt his heart jump at the possibility of it.
“sole?” his eyes shoot open but close back in an instant as the gentle light illuminating from the window cracks filled his vision. his head dips on what seems to be their lap, trying to block it out desperately. he felt the same hand that brushed his locks rest on top of his eyes to protect it from the sunlight that only made his head throb more.
“morning sleepyhead.” upon hearing that sweet sound, tears began to form in his eyes once more. the one person he’s yearned to see for what seemed like centuries was finally within arms reach. just like that, his tears fell effortlessly, collecting in soles hand as it streamed down his cheeks.
“deacon?” before they could remove their hand to reveal the tears spilling from his eyes, he quickly places his hand on top of theirs as a silent request to keep his eyes hidden.
“i’m sorry.” he chokes out, voice cracking through each word that left his lips, “i’m fucking sorry. i-“ he gently squeezed the same hand that rested on top of theirs. sole remained silent, watching as he spoke through ragged breaths. he tried his best to muster out his apologies, thoughts — feelings — through the pounding of his mind.
“everything i said, it was a lie. it was all a fucking lie just to avoid having some kind of attachment in my life. i hurt you because i was scared of facing my fears.”
“lie? scared? deacon, what-,” their words drifted into nothingness as deacon continued on.
“no matter how much i tried to run away from it, i knew i couldn’t. i had feelings for you. feelings more than this partnership that we both agreed to do, more than the best friends we claimed to be.” at this point, his feelings poured through the cracks of his heart and he knew that he would fix it this time, even if sole no longer felt the same way. “i fell for you hard. i was in love with you and i still am, sole.”
after a deep breath, he continued on. “you don’t have to forgive me. you don’t even have to give me the chance to love you properly, i just want you to know i’m sorry. i’m sorry it had to take you to leave from my life for me realize how much this meant to me. how much you meant to me.”
for a moment, it’s still; the air seems tense at first and time seems to freeze. there’s this sense of fear that overtakes his mind for a mere second.
soon enough, time seems to continue on as sole places a soft kiss on his forehead, allowing it to linger for a few seconds. “we’ll talk about this more when you wake up, okay?” they whisper and as reassuring as it sounds, he’s still terrified. terrified that he’ll wake up alone.
“will you be here when i wake up?” he tries to let it out calmly, but there is a hint of panic and unsureness in his voice he couldn’t push away any longer. all of that seems to melt away as sole lets out a small chuckle, his heart swelling with a mix of pain and relief.
“yes.” they reassure, “i’ll be here for as long as you need me.”
he let out a relieved sigh, keeping his hand on top of the one that covered his eyes. for the first time in weeks, everything finally felt right.
“love you, charmer.” before he could hear their reply, he felt himself being pulled into slumber that quietly called his name.
1. i can’t believe there are people in the world who haven’t heard this
2. go check out mika he’s great - important to note is that he’s mlm (he’s come out alternately as being gay, bisexual and ‘not interested in labels’ for a while) and a huge amount of his songs are about being mlm so in particular if ya need good mlm artists check him out
Seriously Mika is a gift and sunshine unto this sick sad world
mika is wildly popular in europe but his north american fanbase is like, six people and a napkin, and it’s killing me.
please listen to Mika’s entire discography because there are a LOT of classics that i’m 100% sure you’ve heard at some point in your life, all the love songs are implicitly gay, it’s great, but ESPECIALLY listen to No Place In Heaven (2015).
it always surprises me to remember that mika isn’t actually a part of the global populace’s general consciousness
because his debut album, life in cartoon motion, was such a huge part of my generation’s tween and teen years
like, i guarantee you, you can walk up to any swedish millennial, and they will still know every single line of his song lollipop
it was just a part of our upbringing;
become a crippling anxious mess
develop an attitude problem
and memorize all of mika’s lollipop
This is the song of his I remember being popular here in Ireland, Love Today!
I LOVE MIKA
Grace Kelly was such a big song for me… It’s hard for me to believe it’s considered an older song now. Bless, Mika. He’s just a wonderful person.
A reimagining of the end credit scene in the Disney+ Loki series. A bit of a happy ending if you will for @justapinchzine.
A little behind the scenes. I don’t think I’ve ever made clay characters before. It was so fun, and so satisfying to be able to hold them after they had baked. I will keep my little friends on my desk forever
It took two years and almost a half for Raven to finally wake up from her coma. When she woke up her first reaction was to freak out. She jumped off her bed thinking that she had to go somewhere.
But Raven didn’t recall where she ought to go and what it was she had to do.
She knocked over a vase of flowers when her feet gave way and she was confused as to why her legs felt like jelly.
She knew however that she had to check her surroundings and her current state. She was fortunate enough to not have injured herself with the shards of porcelain on the floor. She held onto her bed weakly, knowing that she had to go somewhere– but where?
“Raven!” A man had called out as he burst into the room banging the door loudly. She looked up at him with no recognition but the name he uttered was familiar to Raven however she couldn’t figure out why.
The tone in his voice was filled with so much worry that she could not help but feel anxious too.
She observed him quickly scan the room until his eyes finally met hers. She was mesmerized by his green eyes and a strong sense of familiarity hit her.
His uneasy state was greatly calmed when he saw her. When he sighed, she did too, and she shared the relief he felt too. He slowly approached her with a gentle expression as she remained on her spot, greatly leaning on her bed for support.
“Raven.” He whispered when he was two feet away and she realized that she was Raven– that was why the name was familiar.
It was her name.
He picked her up and carried her in his arms and even though she did not know him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was at peace in his embrace– in his presence, she felt safe. And she did not make a fuss even when she didn’t know the identity of this man.
The strong sense of need then engulfed her, there was a name at the tip of her tongue that she felt she had to call out.
She struggled to form the word and then, “Damian.” She whispered as she squeezed him and sighed in relief. He had not corrected her so he must be Damian and she felt at peace knowing this.
She rested her forehead on his shoulder, as he carried her back to her bed. He set her down gently as he pulled away. She grabbed his right hand as she sat up as she studied their hands.
“It feels so perfect.” She gently told him, and Damian was startled by her words. A smile slowly formed on his lips and he found himself chuckling. And she found herself enamored by his soft laughter as a faint flutter settled in her chest. A strong sense of knowing came to her: that this man rarely smiled or laughed.
“I’ve been here almost every day, holding your hand. Maybe your hand molded into mine—” He shook his head in disbelief. “Or maybe the other way around.” Hearing his words ignited her anxiousness.
What did that mean? How long has she been unconscious? And more importantly, who was he to her?
It occurred to her that there was nothing but blankness in her mind. These questions she couldn’t answer. She didn’t even know anything about herself.
Why couldn’t she remember anything about anything?
Even so, Raven knew she had to at least try and stay calm.
“I—my memory is kind of fuzzy,” Raven said as she laid back in bed as she tried to calm her nerves simultaneously, but the realization that she didn’t recall anything bothered her. However, this man, named Damian, gave her a calmness that was indescribable.
She knew him somehow. She trusted him without a doubt, even when she wasn’t sure of her name a moment ago– she knew she could trust him.
“But I know you, I remember you.” Raven continued on as she connected the dots that were vaguely on her mind. “I heard you so often, it became so scary when you weren’t there.” She knew him, she finally recalled, his voice that haunted her and the fear she felt when he said he would let her go.
She did not want him to let her go, she recalled her dread and she clenched his hand.
Aside from him, she was uncertain about everything else, and she was afraid to know the reasons and the hows or what, but she found herself drifting into sleep.
Raven wanted to fight the drowsiness because she was so aware that she had just woken up, but there was a part of her that wanted to go back to sleep. If she woke up and he wasn’t there at least she can pretend that this encounter was just a dream, at least then it would hurt less. She held his hand tightly until she fully fell into slumber, to which her grip finally loosened.
Damian took the opportunity of Raven falling asleep to call the doctors and scientists to inform them of her recent development.
When Raven awoke again, she was afraid, even more than when she had awoken earlier that day. She was afraid that the one she called Damian would have really left her like he had said before. Those words that haunted her dreams for who knew how long she was asleep.
“I have decided. I am moving on– I am letting you go.” Those were the words that kept ringing in her head. The fear that came felt like an assault on her soul. It was unwelcomed and it hurt, but she did not know where to find solace.
When the thought of Damian not being there with her crossed her mind, the fear felt like it was about to burst out of her. Even Raven, with her non-existent memory, could tell that her fear was more than just hearing him tell her that he can’t wait for her any longer. It was like she couldn’t breathe even though the air was just there. She could feel that the fear was very deeply rooted into her and she wondered why it is so, why or what could have caused this suffocating feeling.
What caused this fear to be this strong that it felt like he was life itself?
She jolted up on her bed, ready to jump out to look for him, but then she saw Damian and a tear slipped down her right cheek as a loud exhale escaped her lips. She found herself breathing again, as if the fear of losing him never attacked her in the first place.
It was like air was given back to her lungs, and life was given meaning.
Damian was talking to a doctor and a scientist, but to Raven she thought that he was talking to two doctors in a lab coat. Seeing strangers made her nervous. She started to breathe heavily and with Damian’s sharp hearing, he turned to her instantly and with long strides was already by her side.
“I’m right here.” He told her as he touched her shaking hand and she grabbed his hand with strength she didn’t know she possessed.
“Who are they? What do they want?” She asked giving him a death grip. Damian was surprised by her reaction and tried to soothe her in a gentle tone.
“Raven,” He looked at the doctor and scientist. “They are the head of their department that helped me keep you safe.” He continued on but he noticed the confused look she had on her face when he said head of their departments.
Raven opened her lips but Damian cut her off, “It’s best if I don’t explain to you your medical history, it would only cause you stress.” He cupped her cheek and caressed her face gently, wiping the stray tear away.
“I– I understand.” She replied as she glanced at the two people in their lab coats. They looked at her like she was some kind of miracle but mostly like a specimen. It was another question added to her list: Why did they look at her like that?
“You two may leave, I will contact you later.” Damian ordered in a soft manner as he glanced at the two in lab coats. His tone was controlled to not freak Raven out.
The pair look at one another for a moment and then, “We understand.” One said and they left quietly.
“See, those people are completely harmless.” Damian said, turning around to look at Raven like coaxing a child, but he was surprised to see her teary eyes. He couldn’t help but suck his bottom lip inside his mouth as he tried to look as neutral as he could, but he was suddenly wrapped in her embrace, her small back shaking.
“Everything is fine.” He told her as he slowly wrapped his arms around her. Raven suddenly burst into sobs.
“I thought you were gone!” She wept, hugging him as tightly as she could in terror as she caved in. Hearing this, Damian felt his heart ache and the next second he was convincing himself not to keep his hopes up.
“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” He comforted her in a low voice and she froze. She pulled away to look at him, staring directly into his green eyes as if seeing right through him.
“You said that too, I heard you. But– but–” A tear slipped down her eyes as she blinked. “You then said you were going to leave me.” The words barely got out of her mouth, as her lower lip quivered. Raven found that she could not hug him again, instead she buried her face into her hands as she wept. “You promised.”
He was frozen hearing this, he heard her? How long had she heard him? Did she hear everything?
“I–” He shakily said but Raven cut him off.
“Don’t lie to me!” She glanced up quickly at him and then sobbed back into her hands.
“No. I wasn’t going to lie.” He said and she stopped crying and looked up at him with doubtful eyes. He cupped her face in a solemn expression. “I just– I couldn’t see you like that anymore.”
She wondered if he was lying, and he wondered the same too. Raven silently gave him another hug as she silently cried. After minutes passed, Raven finally stopped crying, but he continued to hold her for a few more minutes before pulling away.
“You need to gather strength, you need to eat a lot, and train your legs.” He told her in his best soothing voice while wiping away her tears and caressing her face. He wondered if this would be the first and only time he could hold her and touch her in such a manner.
She nodded profusely in response. “Okay.” She agreed instantly.
“Okay,” He said as he stood up and she looked at him with slight fear. “I’m going to get a damp washcloth to put over your eyes.” He said in the same tone he had been using this whole time– gentle, tender, caring and perhaps even loving.
“Alright.” She said with a small nod and pressed lips as she slowly lay down in bed. He nodded at her and slowly left the room. She kept her eyes on him until he was out of sight and kept her gaze by the door waiting for his return. She patiently waited even though her anxiousness was growing louder as his absence grew longer.
When Damian finally returned she sighed at the instance she saw him. He had a bowl with water and a face towel inside soaking in the water.
A thought crossed her mind, Raven felt like she was the cloth and Damian was the water, she couldn’t but absorb him into her and want to keep him with her, the basin ensuring that the two will always be together.
“Relax, I’ll be here unless you tell me to leave.” He sat down on the chair beside her bed and she frowned at what he said. “I’m sorry, I’ll be here, always.” He corrected himself and she nodded firmly, closing her eyes. Damian takes that as a gesture that he may place the cloth over her eyes. He twisted the cloth in order for the excess water to leave it, and she placed the damp cloth over her eyes.
He looked at her with grief, certain this time would pass as she was merely just confused. She didn’t actually need him, Raven will surely find Garfield again.
The next day came and when Damian went inside her room Raven was already awake on her bed. Her head turned towards the door and their eyes instantly met.
“You’re already awake.” Damian was surprised as it was still quite early in the morning. In fact, the sun had just risen a few minutes ago.
When she saw him, her eyes watered and he came running to her side.
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Should I–” He turned around ready to call a nurse, but a cold hand over his hand stopped him. His head spun to look at Raven with an ashen expression and Raven wiped away her stray tears with her free hand.
“I just wanted you here.” She confessed in what was barely a whisper. Hearing that made Damian kneel before her as he clenched her hand and brought it to his forehead which was lowered. This had been a habit he had developed over the years he spent waiting for Raven to awaken.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized as a tear slipped away from his eye. “I–”
“You’re not going to leave me, right?” Raven’s voice broke as she asked but she still held onto her resolve to look strong. He looked up at her with green eyes that held terror at the thought. She thought that this was an image she never knew he would show, and yet she was uncertain why she thought so.
“I swear Raven, I will be here throughout your recovery. No matter what.” Damian swore tears pooling in his eyes. She withdrew the hand against his forehead and reached out to his temple, he closed his eyes as she brushed her thumb gently under his eye.
“I will hold you to that.” She replied, pulling her hand away.
“I can’t tell you how you got this way– I can tell you your medical condition– granted not in full, in order not to add stress to you.” He said his tone back to a gentleness she was certain wasn’t his norm.
Raven placed her hand over his again and nodded in understanding. Even if something was telling her this wasn’t how he normally acted, she still embraced it, maybe only because it was only for her that he was acting like this and no one else. And she kind of hoped that this version of him was indeed only for her, even if it was a selfish thought.
“Okay, so good news is: because of your magical origin you didn’t really lose weight. In fact, because of your magic you were able to survive.” Damian noticed the confused look on her face, and he found himself rather alarmed.
“What is your latest memory Raven?” His tone on edge, she just looked at him blankly and then eventually frowned.
“I don’t– I don’t recall anything.” She replied and Damian inhaled a sharp breath.
“Yesterday was the same?” Damian tried to confirm even though he did not want to know the answer and she nodded in reply.
“It’s just a blank haze.” Raven mumbled with a frown.
“Okay, okay– no it is fine, okay?” Damian mumbled although his eyes were shifty. Raven squeezed his hand to try and calm him and reassure him. It was odd how she naturally wanted to comfort him over anything else– over the fact that she has known since she had awaken– that she knew nothing at all.
“I’m in no rush to get my memories– as long as– that is, you are here.” Raven looked at him with calm ease. But his expression did not look pleasant, and a blanket of fear settled over her heart. “I realize– I don’t know how we are related– you must have someone–” The tension in her voice was stifling and Damian immediately cupped both her cheeks forcing her to look at him, making her forget her unreasonable fears.
But were they really unreasonable?
“There is no one else I’d rather be with than with you.” Damian said, leaning his forehead against hers, and she sighed as she closed her eyes, cupping his cheeks in return. She didn’t want to break the silence, and she felt– she was certain he felt the exact same way. Raven couldn’t explain why she knew that but they bask at the silence and their warmth for as long as time would allow.
He told her that she was special and in an almost round-about manner that she was related to a powerful being, whose name and identity shall be omitted to ensure she will not be overwhelmed. And because of this entity, she was born with magic which then aided her rather impossible recovery. If she wasn’t this special, he feared the worst, and Raven knew what that meant.
She could have died.
~.~.~.~.~
Almost two weeks had passed and Raven was utterly frustrated. She wanted to remember something– anything. She wanted so desperately to know him.She couldn’t sleep because of it.
“I know you are having a hard time remembering, so I understand why you are restless in an unfamiliar place, but you need to get some rest.” Damian urged Raven quietly with arms crossed. She looked at him with furrowed brows, she was on her hospital bed that was elevated for her to sit.
“Haven’t I rested enough?” She wondered aloud and he shook his head.
“You know that is not what I mean.” He replied to her.
“I just can’t sleep.” Raven confessed in a quiet voice as her eyes dodge around the white walls anxiously.
Damian took a step closer to her, “Why?” He asked in a gentle manner and her eyes fell on him. The gentleness in his voice is almost associating to his default tone– almost.
“I’m afraid.” She replied with watery eyes, and her hands started to shake a little. He couldn’t help but press his lips, he did not know what to say. He was supposed to show her how firm he could be but he could see that she had become weary because of exhaustion.
“Why?” He simply asked as if talking to a child, and she suddenly held onto his wrists.
“What if, when I wake you’re not here?” She said nervously, her eyes darting to the door momentarily. In fact, she would refuse to eat some meals if she had not seen him for the day.
“I already don’t know much about you.” Raven looked back at him, her eyes visibly shaking. “What if– what if–” Her stare seemed to unfocus behind him which worried Damian.
“What if I wake up and I don’t remember what little I know about you?” Her violet eyes suddenly looked at his green eyes which startled him. The fear and the distant gaze made his heart ache and made him equally worry. “I already don’t know anything about you.” Her breathing became ragged and he felt guilty.
“But what if you remember?” He asked simply in a soft voice as he looked down, he did not want to acknowledge it, but it had to be said.
Suddenly Raven held his shoulders and was so close to his face that he was left startled again. Her eyes filled with terror that Damian almost mirrored the same thing.
“What if I don’t like what I remember?” She asked as she exhaled in an almost wheezing manner. Damian’s heart sank hearing her words.
“But– what if you do?” He heard himself barely whisper. He was certain that the first thing she would remember was Garfield and all the happy memories they shared. He had not thought of Garfield in the past weeks, but it made him realize how he had to tell Garfield that Raven was now awake.
Damian looked at her with the most indifferent expression he could muster, and cupped her cheek and sighed. But the indifference in his face made her scared. He had told Dick not to tell anyone she was awake for now, as to not have any visitors that could overwhelm Raven, but it is probably time to introduce her to other people.
“You know, I think if I introduce you to people you knew before the accident, it can help you.” Damian said slowly, not even looking at her face. Raven’s eyes widened in sheer terror, and her shaking hand reached out to Damian’s jaw to make him look at her. She couldn’t even make him turn his head to her because she had no strength in her body left at his suggestion.
“Please, don’t make me.” Tears fell down her cheeks as her voice broke. Looking at her like this made Damian feel a different kind of guilt that stayed heavy on his heart.
“Okay, okay, okay.” Damian scooped her up into his arms. “I won’t force you.” He comforted her as he rubbed her back. She wept for a few more minutes and then pulled away.
“But you have to promise me that you will try and get proper rest.” Damian added gently and she pouted.
“If you sleep with me.” She replied in a serious tone, but the words shocked Damian to his core, he almost wavered and gave in to her request. Damian knew he shouldn’t.
He sat there frozen, which made Raven frown. “I can’t do that.” He said standing up, his tone uninviting as he turned his back against her. Raven pressed her lips but did not try to persuade him. She laid back down on her bed, and stared at his back.
“Fine.” She agreed silently. “I don’t want visitors yet.” She added in a slightly louder tone as she observed Damian nod his head.
“Let’s just focus on your recovery first then.” Damian turned around to look at her again, but this time with a smile and Raven felt that she had no choice but to pretend to not be hurt at that moment.
~.~.~.~.~
The days passed which then turned to weeks, the doctors and the scientists were surprised with her incredible recovery.
In less than two weeks Raven had already found strength in her legs to hold her body. She was still frail, but she could walk a couple steps, albeit with trouble. However, they attributed her speedy recovery from her origins, her magic that she must have been unconsciously using all this time.
Damian had once mentioned to Raven that she could heal herself and be back to normal in a matter of seconds. But her response, which also frightened him, put a stop to any attempts of convincing her to heal herself– Raven simply said she didn’t know how to.
Damian’s heart ached at the implication of Raven not knowing how to do something she was currently unconsciously doing. It could mean she was never using her magic to heal herself, and surviving or waking up was sheer luck. Or perhaps she won in the gene lottery because of her father. If it wasn’t magic that got her this far, perhaps the different composition of her father’s blood in her had helped her somehow. And if that was the case, it would still boil down to sheer luck for Raven to live this long.
The implication was something that he hated.
Luck was intangible and as untrustworthy as his own mother. If luck was the reason Raven was still here, then he was so close to losing her for all eternity. This was something he could not accept.
“I don’t understand why she can’t recall anything.” Damian asked from outside Raven’s room. Raven was leaning against the wall by her bedroom door. She had initially wanted to go out to meet him, but his worried voice from outside just made her pressed her lips instead.
Raven felt bad that she couldn’t remember anything, but she also liked the pace she and Damian had. There was a fondness in the fact that their moments together were completely theirs and no one else’s, Raven purely enjoyed this.
“We theorize she doesn’t want to remember.” A voice replied which she recognized as the head scientist.
“Well, aside from obvious trauma.” The doctor added and she pressed her lips again. Raven decided she did not need to hear what they had to say next, as she slowly walked across the room, lost in her thoughts.
“I can’t make these kinds of decisions for her.” Damian had said in a faintly pained voice.
The door to Raven’s room is eventually opened by Damian as he walks in quietly. Raven was standing by her window as she gazed at the lawn outside.
“Raven, when did you wake up?” He asked her, the pain in his voice gone and was replaced with a stifling gentleness that she recognized as unfamiliar and yet that was how he had been talking to her since she woke up– gentle, tender, caring and almost so very, very loving.
“It’s odd…” She mumbled, looking out the window and then glanced at the windowsill. “ I am certain you normally don’t talk in such a manner.” She brushed her fingers on the windowsill as she heard footsteps go to her. He stopped a little behind her, and she shifted her gaze out the window again.
“And yet, I have no memory to supplement–” She raised her hands and gazed at her palms. “This knowledge.” Damian looked down on the ground unsure on how to comfort her or reassure her without having to lie.
“I just know… you’re not this gentle– but–” She turned to look at him. “I also feel that you are only ever gentle with me.” Raven noted his fluttering eyes which then quickly avoided her, she cupped his cheek making him look at her.
“You still refuse to tell me what we really are to each other.” She said, and she noted how he closed his eyes.
He sighed, “I don’t think you’d want to know.” Was his reply as he slowly opened his eyes to look at her. “We are–”
“I believe you.” She cut him off in a firm but gentle tone. She didn’t want to know, but she wanted to live in this moment. “I believe you’re right when you say that I don’t want to know.”
Raven’s gaze at him was patient and unhurried, she didn’t want to know especially when he said she wouldn’t want to. She smiled at him softly and he stared back at her, hiding the pain he felt.
Damian concluded that he couldn’t get lost in this moment because when the bubble burst– when she recalls, he knew who she would run to first and it was obviously– it couldn’t be– him. No matter the small hints dropped, Damian had to believe it was unintended because she was merely confused with the missing memories.
He will endure this pain until she chooses Garfield all over again. It was always Garfield– it was never him.
~.~.~.~.~
A few weeks passed by and Raven was finally walking without a problem, she had ventured through the villa and knew every room as if it was her home. Damian had just convinced Raven to take walks outside the villa and she begged him that he had to be there whenever she did go for a walk outside the building.
They went down the stairs, but being self-aware that she was expected to walk out of the building scared her. She knew she wasn’t ready and she squeezed the hand that held hers firmly. Damian’s green eyes looked at her trying to hide the worry, but she saw through it.
Raven knew that she had to be strong for him at least, that alone was enough to bring her to the end of the staircase. She knew he asked this of her for her own good. She knew he was worried how she had locked herself inside the villa. She knew these even when there were no words that were said directly to her.
Raven knew and she did not know why, but she knew all of these.
Damian would ask her if she wanted to know more about her, but she would just shake her head, rejecting his offer. Raven then would tell him that she was content with what little she knew of herself. And she knew and could feel his turmoil as if it was hers, but she would not delve into the matter any further.
She didn’t want to know more about herself. Raven simply wanted to know more about Damian.
Damian guided her to the main entrance, a door she would more often than not pass by as if it did not exist. There were a couple of times she would glance at it and rarely stare for more than two minutes and then proceed to ignore it. She found she had no interest in the outside world, she liked it here, inside this huge mansion with Damian. That was more than she needed. She wanted to be with him– the man holding her hand.
Raven squeezed his hand again as they stopped in front of the door.
Damian had reached out for the doorknob with his free hand but feeling her squeeze his hand again made him turn to her.
“Do you want to do this?” He asked sympathetically, and she tried to smile to comfort him but her uncertainty had become bigger than her. She squeezed his hand again as she forced herself to nod.
Damian took a deep breath and opened the door and as it swung open and revealed the green grass, Raven’s legs buckled. An image in her head overlapped with the green grass. And she no longer saw the tranquil lawn outside– instead she saw destruction.
Raven’s breathing became heavy as the image remained in her sight. Cars littered everywhere, smoke and flames, and then there was–
Raven screamed as her palms covered her face. She had fallen on her knees screaming as she wept.
“Raven!” Damian yelled as he dropped to his knees to hold her in his arms. She screamed as she held onto him.
“No, no, no!” She repeated as she held onto his shirt as if she’d ripped it from how strong her grip was. “Damian!” She screamed his name in so much terror his heart dropped to his stomach and he hugged her tightly.
“I’m here, I’m here.” He repeated but her repeating words of no was louder. He called her name but she didn’t respond, just sobbed and called his name in a broken whisper. He forcefully pulled her away from his chest, and she struggled in his arms not wanting to let go.
“I’m here Raven, I’m here.” He forced himself to say as he kept her at a distance so she could see his face. She continued to scuffle at him, her eyes unfocused as tears streamed down her face. “Raven!” He called her name as loudly as he could so his voice would not be drowned out by her voice. He sounded like he was about to burst into tears and his chest ached even more seeing her tremble in place at the sudden sound– at his sudden burst.
Raven’s eyes found his, her hands quivering, “Damian.” She hugged him and wept in silence.
“There, there.” He patted her back and they remained that way for a moment, he adjusted his hands so that he could carry her back to her room. “Let’s go back, let’s try again some other day.” He coaxed her quietly. He felt her nod against his collar bone.
Damian squeezed her one more time and then found his footing in order to stand up. Raven continued to cry as he climbed back up to her bedroom.
When they arrived in her room and he settled her on her bed, she confessed to him how afraid she was that night of the accident. She was afraid she wouldn’t get to experience a life with him by her side.
Raven initiated their first kiss, and in the confusion he kissed her back with the passion he held onto and had for her for years. Raven kissed back, slipping her tongue inside his mouth and she recognized his inexperience because of it and he confirmed it when he pulled away.
Damian couldn’t help but mention she had dated before, couldn’t help but say Garfield’s name and thus had to see her expression shift right before his own eyes.
She longed for him– Garfield.
Raven was confused because she didn’t have any memories of Garfield, but her heart beats loudly upon hearing his name. Her expression could not help but mold into longing, and Damian saw all of this. She could vaguely feel his pain behind the turmoil that was brought about when Damian said Garfield’s name.
She still wanted to choose Damian even if her heart and body remembered this man named Garfield, even if she reacted in such an extreme manner. But the turmoil inside of her made her tired, she wanted to rest and yet she still wanted Damian.
Raven asked if they could try walking outside again tomorrow and he quietly obliged. She knew she had to tell him before her feelings got lost in translation– lost in words that were never said.
Raven had to define what she wanted with him. What she wanted with Damian and no one else.
“I would like to date you, Damian.” Her words were sincere and certain even when she was clearly reacting towards that name– Garfield.
But Damian quickly shot her down by saying, “Your memory isn’t like what it was, Raven. I think it’s too early to say that.” She pressed her lips, she hated how he replied. She hated how he shot her down so quickly. But then, she also hated herself, what could she have done to someone this good to her, to reply that easily? To reply in such a manner?
Garfield, even though the name sparked a reaction to her physically, she didn’t remember her love for him. If someone told her that her heart was beating because of the love she had for Garfield, she’d tell them instantly: that isn’t the case.
This beating was more akin to fear, she didn’t want to know anything about Garfield because to a degree she was aware it would affect her relationship with Damian.
Now that was something she did not want at all.
But Raven will be patient, she had to be.
If Damian wasn’t ready now, she will wait, and she will not have someone who she didn’t remember obstruct her. She knew she chose Damian on her dying breath and that meant something stronger than this person she didn’t remember, named Garfield.
~.~.~.~.~
Raven had stopped keeping track of the days but a week ago she was finally able to step out of the mansion. Previously they would stand in front of the entrance ranging from a panic stricken melt-down to a staring contest that could last a few minutes to hours and yet she could never step out of the building.
The first time Raven struggled to go outside helped her remember something though– her accident. She had an inkling why she was afraid of going outside and now she knew her accident took place in an open space.
Raven found this out the first time she attempted to step out and saw the fast field. Her legs gave in as she so vaguely recalled a scene that overlapped the green grass. It was an unpleasant memory which she had not informed Damian she recalled, even if so very faint. Even when he carried her up to her room and comforted her, she didn’t tell him the details of what she had seen and felt but now it was different.
Raven knew for certain that it involved the man who was always there as she recovered– Damian.
She tried to calm her mind in order to find peace to try and put the pieces together. And that was how she knew, just a week ago, why she held Damian so tightly every time, why she had to see him, why it had to be him that accompanied her.
Today Damian promised he would go out and join her for a walk. If he wasn’t by her side she would refuse to even attempt stepping out of the safety of the building he provided for her. They stood in front the main entrance of his villa, Raven holding his wrist with both hands in a tight grip. Even though they have gone out over a couple of times, it still wasn’t an easy feat for Raven.
Damian rested his free hand over her cold hands that were tightly wrapped around his wrist. Even when she was evidently shaking he never forced her out. But there were so many times where she would just faint out of pure fear which then would make him wonder: if Raven knew how painful it is to catch her like that, would she refuse to leave the villa?
Did he even have the right to be hurt when he is someone she didn’t love in that way?
“Damian?” Raven called in a small voice, her eyes worried as she looked up at him. He smiled at her faintly.
“I’m sorry, I was lost in my thoughts.” He admitted, no matter what, he cannot be delusional. It might have seemed like she held her hand out for him twice, but it could be that it wasn’t– no it isn’t the case. She could have been confused and thought he was Garfield. He sighed and closed his eyes tightly.
He recalled what happened weeks ago, where they had shared their first kiss, she said doesn’t remember Garfield but when she does recall her old flame, Damian knew he’d be left with a broken heart. She didn’t know any better, and he tried his hardest to pretend it never happened. He knew Raven could see through him and did not cause any trouble, instead she played along with his unspoken wish.
Pretend like she didn’t tell him that she was scared to not experience a love with him, pretend she didn’t kiss him and he didn’t kiss back.
“Damian.” She called his name again, her voice sounding like she was at the verge of tears and he looked at her worriedly. “Do you know why I’m scared of going outside?” She thought that even if she just knew a few days ago of the reason why she found it hard to step outside, she had to tell him, even if– when her memories return, it might not be the truth anymore.
Even when he was clearly pushing her away.
Damian didn’t look at her, he only looked down on the floor. He did not want her to continue.
And it made her heart ache, it made her wonder why he would act like this. When her memories return, she would know why he is like this, she must have hurt him a lot before. And there was a part of her that hoped she wouldn’t have those memories back, because there was one thing she knew for a long time– she wanted to build a future with him.
She wasn’t sure she could if she really did something awful to him.
Was she an awful person?
Raven pressed her lips together, but she still had to take a chance, “Whenever I get to hold your hand.” She pulled one of her hands off of his wrist and laced her hand with his. “It feels so perfect, when I get to hold you like this, it makes me feel so safe. Like I would never get lost, and I would never lose you.” She leaned against his shoulder as he remained quiet.
“Please don’t tell me that I will regret this when I have my memories back.” She softly added as a tear slipped her eye which she hid from him. And they remained silent as she found the strength to open the door and step out.
And for the first time, it was her who guided him out, not the other way around.
~.~.~.~.~
Then the day she finally met Garfield came, Garfield called her name out and it made her freeze. The beating in her chest wasn’t out of fear, it was love and Raven hated it. She hated how she recognized his voice and when she turned to look at him– she remembered him. She recalled their happy memories. She instantly knew something about him and it scared her.
Raven had been so happy these past months because of the man beside her– Damian. And yet, this person– Garfield, decided to barge into their pleasant conversation. She still didn’t remember much about Damian other than being so terrified when she thought she was dying and couldn’t spend time with him.
But with Garfield it was like her life with him was flashing through her eyes, and she was feeling everything as if it was still happening.
It was overwhelming her, she knew she loved him. She loved Garfield so much.
Raven could feel Damian’s turmoil– his pain. She could feel Garfield’s joy at her being awake and his anger at Damian for not telling him. She could even feel the guilt of the man behind Garfield, whom Damian called Greyson. And she can feel the love she had for Garfield for nine long years.
Damian confirmed what he knew– in her eyes Garfield will always surpass him. But this moment also made Damian realize just how much he had allowed himself to sink into this make-believe life they built within the mansion. He wasn’t her boyfriend, and she didn’t have a space for him in her heart.
The unexpected guest that Greyson brought was a much needed wake-up call.
“Get out.” Raven said firmly and as mean as she could but her words came out gentle and tired. Damian was surprised by this and turned to her instantly, but she turned around and looked out the window. “All of you.”
Raven was combing the memories that felt more than an assault than anything else. It was her happy memories with Gar, she was sure of it, but she hated it so much. She crossed her arms over her chest refusing to talk to anyone and they left one by one, Damian being the last to leave.
When the hours passed by she felt better with more control over her emotions. Raven sat down by the windowsill thinking of what she could or would do with these new found memories. She knew firmly how she did not want to pursue Garfield even when her memories were playing tricks on her.
Yes, tricks that is what these memories are– tricks.
Raven knew who she wanted to be with Damian, it doesn’t matter how her memories of Garfield made her so desperately want to run to said person. She had made her choice, the night of her accident, that she wanted her future to be with Damian.
And yet, why was it that she was convincing herself over and over again of that choice?
When the door opened and she heard footsteps come her way, even when her back was facing the intruder, she knew it was Damian.
“He hasn’t left has he?” She asked even if she did not have confirmation that it was Damian, but the voice that responded was the one who had been with her since she woke up– no since she was in a coma. His voice always followed her.
Damian told her how Garfield refused to leave until he talked to her, but Damian didn’t come here to convince her to talk to Garfield, he came because she had to eat dinner.
Raven agreed to eat dinner only if Damian joined her and Damian did not complain. He was rather surprised that she would want his company, perhaps this would just be like how they have been living so far, another stolen moment– a temporary happy memory. And yet, he still could not complain, he was still rather glad, even if it was temporary he was still being chosen– for this moment, for this hour, for this day.
Damian brought the food up for the two of them and they sat across from each other in silence. Raven was picking on her food and he remained quiet and patient.
Raven sighed and then said, “It’s odd, when I saw him, it felt like I just realized the world was a puzzle with missing pieces, and his presence just made all the missing pieces appear on it’s designated places. He was familiar, he was someone I knew— love , maybe even… but something didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to approach him and I didn’t want him to approach me.”
There could have been more said after what Raven confessed and yet the pair knew there was nothing that needed to be said or done. They were completely fine with each other’s company. She recognized his pain and his suffering for all these years, and he recognized how upset and angry she was at how Garfield made her react the way she did.
But they said nothing to rely on what they already knew about each other and instead remained in silence which was a comforting embrace for them both.
~.~.~.~.~
Three days passed when Raven finally decided she could meet Garfield. She had to face him sooner or later and she was mostly thankful for his unexpected visit as it became the firestarter for her memories to really come back to her.
It hurt and it was overwhelming, she knew she loved Garfield, but that was a version of her who has always known nothing but loving him. She saw clearly how bad they were together and yet the love she had for Garfield was like looking at the scorching sun directly in the eyes. No matter how bright the sun was, staring at it directly would pain one’s eyes.
It did leave her so utterly confused. But her decision hasn’t changed, it was still Damian whom she wanted to be with.
The day Raven saw Garfield was the last day she had seen Damian. She grew so very anxious, she had lost her appetite to eat or go out of her bedroom. She wondered if her refusal to eat would at least prompt Damian to visit her again.
Why had he not visited her for days? Had he seen her with Garfield that day– out on his lawn?
She had to explain herself to Damian and then she would find herself standing by her bedroom door thinking of leaving, to look for Damian herself. But her body couldn’t, it refused to go out, she would find herself puking into her toilet instead.
Her days without Damian passed like that, she couldn’t go out of her bedroom without him. But she wanted so badly to see him and talk to him because the fear in her chest was so heavy it felt like it was crushing her ribs. She didn’t realize until now how dependent on him she had become.
Raven was currently laying on her bed, looking at the ceiling as she tried to control her emotions. She didn’t count the days that she hadn’t seen Damian after the third day because she was afraid that he might never come and being that aware of how many days she hadn’t seen him pained her too much.
She wanted to cry, she was so scared, but she couldn’t even find her voice to express her fear and pain.
Raven got up and faced the door when she felt another wave of panic assault her. She covered her face as she caved in on her emotions. The memory of the night when she was attacked flashing before her eyes.
Was it too late to tell him? Will he never come?
She wanted so badly to be with him, the fear of not being able to– was choking her.
The door suddenly opened and she shot up on her feet, hoping it was him– she catched the familiar black hair and green eyes and that beautiful tan skin of Damian Wayne. Her feet moved fast with a sob as the distance between them only felt like two steps as she gave him a tight embrace.
Raven was scared, she was terrified that maybe she was manifesting a fake Damian because of her desire to see him. But holding the warm body and familiar aura of the man who had patiently waited for her for years– she knew, it was undoubtedly him.
Damian was confused, but when she felt his strong arms gently returning her hug, Raven held onto him even tighter as she placed her eyes against his shoulder as she wept, refusing to let him go.
“I thought you wouldn’t come back. I was so scared.” Her pleading voice made his heart ache.
He didn’t know what to say, “I’m sorry for worrying you.” A soft reply as he tightened his hold on her and held her down so her feet would touch the floor. But she did not let him go and he did not either and so they held each other tightly for a bit longer.
Eventually Raven pulled away as she tried to collect herself. She wiped her tears as she looked at those emerald eyes. She instantly saw the confusion in his eyes and her heart skipped a beat in fear. She reached for his hands, afraid he’d suddenly turn around– deciding to leave her for good.
So she told him all the things that were running through her head.
“When Gar came and guided me outside, I couldn’t find the strength to step through the door. All I could think about was that I need you. I need you to hold my hand as I step outside. While that night kept flashing through my mind. But he held my hand– and it felt so familiar. And all my fears just vanished.” Raven looked down on her feet, she could remember vividly how that day went. And if Damian had seen them at the lawn, how it must have felt for him to see such a scene.
“And I found myself outside– with him.” She added, sounding distressed, but she hadn’t finished and she found herself holding onto Damian’s hand tightly as if looking for strength to continue on. A broken smile was on her lips as the tears on her eyes slipped and fell onto the floor. She didn’t want to continue, but she had to.
“I forgot the time I was injured, till the time before he held my hands. It felt like I could breathe again.” Her eyes suddenly met his green gaze and Damian was startled, he had to admit: he hated this conversation. “He will always be someone that matters to me, we will always have history. I have loved him for nine years, we shared so many memories– so many firsts. But I do not want to be with him. I want to be with you. And I know I am asking a lot, but if all these don’t bother you– I would love it, if you would date me.” She said as quickly and calmly as she could. Raven felt like she was just ranting and making a fool of herself now. And it was worse when there was only silence that greeted her.
“I want you. I want to be with you.” She softly added, thinking that maybe it would make a difference. But the silence continued and her confidence shrank even more.
“I don’t mind.” Was his soft reply that she didn’t hear, because Raven was convinced that he did not feel the same way for her.
She indeed was such a fool.
“If that is an issue for you, then I completely understand.” She mumbled.
“I don’t mind.” He repeated, a bit louder this time.
“I know it’s been two years, and that there must have been someone you became interested in. Or maybe you’ve even dated a bit. I know we don’t talk about it, but I get that–” She tried to rationalize because it made sense. Damian wouldn’t wait for someone who broke his heart over and over again. And yet, it hurt so much, she squeezed her eyes trying not to cry at the truth.
He didn’t want her.
But Raven’s tone gave her away, she was so close to sobbing. She was so scared of losing him.
“Raven,” Came Damian’s steady voice that echoed into the room, she found her eyes looking straight at him. His strong hand against her cheek, his green eyes steadily gazing at her in a tender manner. “I want to be with you.” She couldn’t find the strength to believe him.
“I’ve always wanted to be with you– I waited for you.” His words finally reached Raven’s soul, she felt his relief and her tears washed away her distrust over his confession. “I almost gave up, I admit that.” He looked away and she cupped his cheeks.
“If I were in your place, even I would waver.” She admitted as she tried to catch his gaze.
When their eyes were finally locked at one another she added in a gentle tone, “Garfield will always have some meaning to me– his all I have known for nine years, even before sleeping for two years– my history with him is half my life. I was afraid. I thought he was the only one who could possibly love someone like me– I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. I want my next memories and moments– with you. And slowly those memories I had, and my history with him, will just be a fraction of my life. I want you. I want every possible milestone with you, Damian.” She felt that she had to explain herself, had to make him fully aware that being with her would be a challenge, that it wasn’t going to be easy because of her ex. But God– Azar, this was all she wanted since she woke up.
It was difficult to hold to the desire of wanting to be with Damian when her memories made her feel her love for someone else. It hurt so much and it was draining her, but she had to hold on because she had to see if she had a chance with him– with Damian.
He nodded and she wanted to cry in disbelief and happiness. He really chose her, despite everything and the challenges that had faced and they will face. She knows very well, first hand, how hard it is to hold onto the thought of a future with Damian.
“I never thought this day would happen.” A gentle confession from Damian as he leaned against her, resting his forehead on hers. The contact made her smile softly and they remained like that in silence.
It was Damian who would break the silence, “I was afraid to ask, or open up about this, especially since you were still recuperating– and your memories are fuzzy. But who would have thought you would catch me by surprise and open up the topic yourself?”
Raven didn’t want to hear him talk anymore because to her ears, it was Damian confirming how closely she evaded not having him in her life. And Raven took another chance– she kissed him and she was surprised when he kissed her back shyly.
Raven deepened the kiss, wanting to taste more of him. Her worries about losing sight of wanting to be with him are lost at the back of her mind. The kiss seemingly a symbol that anchored her to him.
She pulled away when she recalled the last time they shared a kiss, his inexperience– the same kind that was now awkwardly against her lips.
“We will take it step by step. I might still remember more about Garfield, and I might get a little confused. But remind me that I chose you since that night.” Raven stood on her tippy toes and rested her forehead against his head. Their eyes locked at one another and she caught the surprise that flashed in his eyes for a moment and then he brushed his thumb against her cheek.
“I finally caught up to you.” He whispered and Raven couldn’t help the small laughter that she tried to hide from coming out.
Raven felt that it was truly the other way around. It was her who finally caught him.
~.~.~.~.~.~
Damian was asleep with Raven in her king sized bed and he awoke when he noticed the familiar frame that was usually resting on his chest turned to her side, away from him. His green eyes slowly opened, aware of the missing weight and warmth of his girlfriend. His eyes were still half open when he heard the shallow breathing of Raven.
“Raven.” He called out as he turned her to lay on her back, she did not respond but he noticed the sweat forming on her forehead.
“Gar…” She whispered between wheezes. Damian froze hearing her call for Garfield.
“Gar– Please.” He heard her stifle. “Don’t– please.” She turned her head from left to right. “Don’t leave me please.” She begged as tears streamed down her.
“I love you.” She whispered and then wept, Damian felt like his heart was ripped away from him, but looking at her like that all sweaty and in tears– he couldn’t let his pain get ahead of himself. With shaking hands he wiped her tears with one hand and wiped her sweat with the other.
Raven suddenly jolted awake from the touch. “Gar?” Was the name that she called out first as she sat up and placed her hands on Damian’s chest. Damian’s expression remained as stoic as possible, but he couldn’t hide the slight widening of his green eyes.
“Gar– I thought– I thought–” Raven’s voice sounded desperate and Damian hated it. Her violet eyes were also filled with the same kind of desperation.
Raven’s shaky eyes stared at Damian’s emerald eyes, but he could see and understand that his girlfriend was not seeing him. He saw how Raven’s gaze of despair slowly turned to pure confusion then fear.
To Raven she had seen Garfield’s green skin, but once she gazed at his eyes, she found that it was not the same shade or shape as Garfield’s eyes. And then suddenly the image of Garfield was replaced by Damian Wayne.
“Damian?” She asked in confusion, almost chokingly. “What are you doing in my bed? In my room?” She glanced around and realized she did not recognize where she was. “Where am I?” Her tone was pure fear and Damian could only press his lips in silence.
Raven stumbled as she got off the bed in her confusion, “Where– where am I?” she mumbled as she gazed at her surroundings again and she tripped backwards. Raven felt extremely hopeless, she placed her hands over her eyes as she wept.
“I don’t- I don’t.” She mumbled as she heard rustling from the bed. Damian got up and slowly approached her and knelt by her side. He was hurt, he was so hurt that she was still looking for Garfield. This wasn’t the first time he would wake up to her hysterics, but it did not make every single one after the first episode any easier.
This started happening a few weeks after they got together and the intervals became closer as the time progressed.
He reached her hand and she heard her loud gasp as she looked up with wide amethyst eyes that showed both her confusion and fear. She felt guilty at how loud her own breath was.
“Damian?” She asked as she sniffed, there was recognition in her eyes and she hugged him as she wept. “I did it again, didn’t I? Oh my gosh, I am so, so sorry.” She cried and he hugged her tightly.
“It hurts, I admit that much.” He whispered as he put his face against the nook of her shoulder and neck and there was silence from Raven as she held in her sobs by sucking in her lips. “But you are not going to get rid of me that easily. You made me promise, remember? To remind you that you chose me since that night.”
Raven pulled away to look at him and cupped his face, the tears pooling in her eyes and she nodded as she tried to smile.
“Yes, that’s right, I chose you. You– Damian Wayne.” She whispered her eyes searching for his pain. His thumb neared Raven’s left eye and she closed both her eyes as he wiped her tears.
“You choose me, and I will fight whatever fucking monster I have to– to remind you that you chose me– until you don’t want me anymore.” Damian spoke gently as he rested his forehead against hers.
“Me? Not wanting you?” She repeated back, a concept she could not understand and she shook her head. “All I’ve ever wanted in my coma was you.”
Damian felt a warmth in his chest and he found a small hand rubbing against his sternum gently. Her eyes glanced at his chest for a second.
“May this warmth bloom and grow bigger, I am not letting you go ever.” Raven then suddenly gazed at his eyes. Damian was startled by the firmness in her eyes.
“Okay.” He couldn’t help but reply. He was more than alright with that. He smiled at her affectionately.
Damian was always taken aback by her skills as an empath, especially on times like this; when Raven would reaffirm his affection for her by reminding her in small gestures that she can feel his love for her, and he never needed her to say that she loved him back because it was clear in her eyes, in her touch, in her voice– she loves him back wholeheartedly.
It wasn’t something they questioned when their minds were in this kind of tranquility.
~.~.~.~.~
They had been officially dating for a couple of months and Damian could clearly see how positively this fact has affected Raven. She was laughing with him so much and she would look at him with such an endearing gaze; which was rather suffocating for Damian, only because he still couldn’t believe it himself– that they are finally together.
Raven would run around with him through the villa like kids, and they would steal kisses from one another. Whenever he was here, the two would have so much fun. It was unbelievable that the two had been pining for someone for nine years.
When Damian would have to leave, and when his absence would be longer due to missions, he could see the fear and worry in her eyes and face. And it made him want to stay by her side, but he couldn’t do that, he was a hero, this was his job. The guilt and pain Damian felt when he had to leave Raven for long missions was worse now that they are dating.
The feeling of not wanting to leave was so strong that it made it hard for Damian to part from Raven with a tranquil mind. In fact every parting since they started dating had made the feeling even more stuffier; for a moment or two, he had considered leaving the team and Batman entirely.
The couple were in Raven’s bedroom, they were sitting on a new bed that the two had gotten to replace her hospital bed a long time ago. They even spent so much time renovating her entire space. When Damian would step into the room, he could now tell it was hers. She had a space in a house he had asked from his father for her. There was a level of permanency that could not be replaced and could not be described with this fact. He had finally grown and nurtured such an intimate relationship with someone.
However, Damian has to leave for two weeks and he can see it in his girlfriend’s violet eyes that she does not want him to be away from her.
“When you’re gone, now that we are together, your absence feels longer than it actually is.” Raven confessed, she was finally no longer lying on the hospital bed that she had slept on for years, it was oddly comforting.
Damian was sitting across from her on her bed and he looked at her gently as he brushed her cheek, hoping he could brush off her sad expression.
“I will be careful.” He whispered, the moonlight being their only light within the room.
“I know, it’s what you always say every time.” Raven answered back, and they stared at each other.
But this time it was different.
Those were the words that the couple didn’t say aloud but knew was in each other’s minds and it was clear on their faces.
But this time it was different. It is true, this time, it was different.
To Damian this would be the first time he would leave her as her boyfriend for two whole weeks. To Raven, when he leaves she could no longer ease her mind by exploring the villa anymore, just so she would not think of the perils he would be in. She wished that she could do more, but she couldn’t remember how to use her magic or more like it wasn’t cooperating– working, even though she really wished it would.
“I need to go now.” Damian said with a heavy heart and they looked at one another.
When Damian moved, Raven grabbed his shirt and he looked at her with a broken expression. He held her hands, squeezed them and urged her to let go by pulling her hand off of him.
It was clear to Raven that he did not want to leave, but they both understood that he had to.
“Be safe.” She said, conceding to his wishes but he pressed his lips and Raven’s eyelid twitches.
“I will try my best.” Was his reply, and she closed her eyes, his hands no longer holding hers as he stood up. Raven stood up too and he looked at her one last time. She leaned closer to him and kissed him on his lips.
“Be safe.” She said again and for a second he rested his head against hers and then planted a gentle kiss on her lips and left her room.
Damian refused to steal another glance; it never made leaving easy. He couldn’t be tempted into staying any longer. He knows his duties and she knows it clearly too.
Raven couldn’t lead him out of the villa, she was scared of seeing his figure out in the open at night. So she stayed in her room quietly, refusing to even take a peek outside the window to seek out his figure.
The thought that maybe this time would be the last time she would see him would overtake her thoughts often, tonight was worse. Now that they are together, she couldn’t exactly not think of him on missions, she couldn’t distract herself by roaming around the mansion he got for her because all she would see was him and her now.
They had accumulated so many memories within the mansion that it would be too difficult not to think about him at all.
What kind of dangers would he be facing? How close would he be to death’s door? What decision would save his life?
These thoughts often would haunt her mind when Damian left for missions.
Raven gazed at her palms, wishing and hoping she would remember how to work her magic at that very moment.
She wanted to protect him. But all she remembered were things about Garfield, Damian leading them as a team– some instances with her team members and– that was all.
When she tries to remember the night of her injury, she only recalled the fear of losing him. She recalle
Summary: Lan Wangji tried to look around, but found that he was immobilized. Not panicking, because he was a powerful cultivator who did not need to panic, Lan Wangji attempted to break the immobilization with his golden core.
Only to realize that his core, while intact, was blocked.
He attempted to move his fingers.
Nothing.
No matter what part of himself Lan Wangji attempted to move or wiggle, he received no response from his body.
Still not panicking, really not at all, Lan Wangji tried to parse what he could see in front of him, without moving his eyes.
There was a shelf that appeared to be almost half the size of Koi Tower in front of him, but before he began not panicking about that, he realized that no. The shelf was not a gigantic piece of furniture. It was Lan Wangji who was abnormally sized.
He had, in fact, gone from standing over two bu high, to measuring perhaps a single chi in length.
He was tiny .
…
Lan Wangji began to panic. ** In which Lan Wangji is cursed to be marionette puppet and transported to a different universe, where he is picked up by an alluring and kind puppeteer with a mysterious past…
My comments: This was a gift for me ❤️!@therealfailwhale was my author for MDZS RBB @mdzsrbb this year, and look what they produced!!!
This one is a hoot from the very first sentence. It is fluffy and fun, and features a thirsty Lan Wangji who is so. FRUSTRATED. that his teeny size is preventing him from acting on his thoughts. Heh heh heh.
Lan Wangji is just happy he’s no longer wooden, okay; Wei Wuxian is entirely smitten; Jiang Cheng is shouty and confused; Nie Huaisang has secrets; and I am just along for the ride. Two world collide, herein, and the mashup is greater than the sum of its parts. (And. AND! This charming story was written for my art, for the MDZS RBB, and I’m so honored and delighted and happy about that. I want to share it with everyone.)
Excerpt: Wei Wuxian pulled Lan Wangji away from his chest and held him up to look into his tiny face.
“You hear that, you beautiful man? You’re coming home with me!” Wei Wuxian grinned widely, and glanced up at Jiang Cheng. “Didi! Meet my husband!”
“You can’t marry a puppet!” shouted Jiang Cheng, as Lan Wangji felt a desire to hide his face.
modern au, wingfic, tiny lan wangji, puppet lan wangji, POV lan wangji, parallel universes, curses, the power of consent and autonomy, Schrodinger’s nielan, sangcheng, size difference, so many innuendos about size differences, getting to know each other, falling in love, puppets, developing relationship, slow burn, crack taken seriously, angry grape jiang cheng, different first meeting, domestic, suppportive wei wuxian, protective wei wuxian, orphans jiang cheng & wei wuxian, thirsty lan wangji, family reunion, getting together, first kiss, fluff, happy ending, favorite
This story is part of the MDZS RBB 2022 which is currently posting over on AO3. Y'all go read and love!
Summary:Someone tried to set up Jiang Wanyin. Wei Wuxian took the fall - and key players took the chance to send him to prison to get too-smart-for-his-own-good Wei Ying out of the way. Thirteen years into his sentence, he’s released from prison and disappears. Three years after that: Lan Wangji finds him by chance. Unfortunately, he’s brought a fresh round of trouble with him. The two of them have to fix their friendship, fix a sabotaged airplane, and then fix everything else as it happens.
My comments: Starts with a bang, wwx running away and lwj tackling him into an undignified fight that goes all over the yard. There is A Past - a reason why wwx has been away for so long and is no longer a part of the aerial firefighting community, but rather a struggling mechanic and paroled felon.
While wangxian figure themselves out, sabotage and a continuation of a 20-year-old plot come to light. The climax moves fast and involves lqr being a dick, another plot, wwx being stupidly sacrificial, a wildfire and an aerial attack. Exciting stuff!
modern au, pilot au, aerial firefighters, angst, caretaking, doting lan wangji, self-worth issues, communication, sabotage, myster, case fic, affection, non-sexual intimacy, first kiss, love confessions, ouyang zizhen being a duckling, jiang sibling feels, xuanli lives, protective lan wangji, protective wei wuxian, attempted murder, supportive lan wangji, happy ending, @silvarbelle
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Summary:Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are disgustingly in love and happily cohabitating six months after the events of “Pearls for a Funeral”. But a vindictive power will not let them rest. Trouble is brewing at work for Detective Jiang Cheng, and just in time to create all kinds of problems for his sister’s wedding (not to mention the invitation list!). A mysterious letter starts off a non-stop, wild, noir ride which takes our heroes from the foggy climes of San Francisco to the verdant hills of Napa Valley. Can Wangxian once again prevail over the powers of darkness and save their love as well as each other? I don’t know, I don’t know, I really don’t know.
My comment: Ah, a very satisfying sequel to Pearls For a Funeral(here’s mypost). In which the bad guys from the first story just won’t stop making trouble, prison and looming execution notwithstanding. POV alternates, and it’s a ride through a visceral 1940s landscape with loads of angst and kidnapping and perilous situations (both physical and emotional). Fun time!
Excerpt:One would have thought once you’ve lived through one abduction, the second one would be a walk in the park, and yet, Lan Wangji was discovering, one would have been entirely incorrect. What was even more beneath his dignity was being held hostage by the man who used to wash his car. Oh no, if Uncle found out, he would be absolutely livid. This assassin, this Xue Yang personage, who had dared beat Wei Ying into a bloody pulp and trespass against his clavicles (a sin for which Lan Wangji had already damned the man to the ninth circle of hell), was barely worthy of so much as being in Lan Wangji’s presence. Unfortunately, he was hovering extremely uncomfortably close to his presence, and leering in such a way that made Lan Wangji pull at his restraints despite his valiant attempts at keeping his considerable cool.
noir au, case fic, 1940s san francisco, established relationship, mystery, intrigue, private detective wei wuxian, rich socialite lan wangji, background nielan, shameless lan wangji, gumshoe wei wuxian,kidnapping, light torture, BAMF lan wangji, hurt wei wuxian, hurt lan wangji, misunderstandings, angst, POV alternating, lack of communication, feels, hostage situations, grief/mourning, happy ending, @jadedbirch
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T, 15k, lan sizhui & lan wangji, lan wangji & lan xichen, lan wangji & madam lan, wangxian
Summary:Banished from the Lan Sect after Wei Wuxian’s death, an unexpected revelation sets Lan Wangji on a new path.
My comments: Lovely peek into what an exiled lan wangji would do (it’s still waaaay better than the 33 lashes!). He takes a-yuan and wanders for a while, but has a tip that his mother might still be alive, so heads towards the general area she might be found. Meanwhile, he strengthens his bond with his new son and learns a new way to be in the world. Mom, when he finds her, is pretty great.
lan wangji is banished, lan wangji nopes out of the lan sect, 13 years, cut hair, shorn hair, grief/mourning, parent-child relationship, healing, feels, character study, rogue cultivator lan wangji, madam lan, lan wangji’s mother, rogue cultivator madam lan, family feels, exiled lan wangji, POV lan wangji, canon divergence, madam lan lives, happy ending, @ahlaishepherd
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Summary:Shapeshifter Lan Wangji is caught off guard when he turns into a rabbit while doing his weekly errands. Fortunately, he runs into a kind young man who seems very eager to have a pet rabbit. Soon, Lan Wangji finds himself delaying his return to human form and struggling to spend a little more time with his new ‘owner’.
(In which Lan Wangji is Bunji, a strong-willed yet surprisingly affectionate rabbit.)
My comments: Ohmygod. This is the DORKIEST thing. I love it.
Excerpt:“Wangji! You cannot always escape difficult situations by changing your form!”
But he laughs as he says it, so Bunji chooses to ignore his reproach.
Anyway, this tactic has always worked very well. As a child, he often coped with his troubles by reverting to rabbit form. Rabbits could do things that little boys couldn’t, like hide underneath the furniture. Bunji also had the option of creeping into family members’ laps for comfort. He liked that.
Perhaps it wasn’t the most courageous way of resolving problems. But it was highly effective.
It’s effective now, too. Lan Xichen sighs loudly, but he still scratches Bunji’s back.
“Shall we talk about the kind gentleman who found you?” he wonders.
Bunji shakes his head. He cannot talk in this form. It’s the greatest benefit of being a rabbit: conversation is entirely impossible.
modern au, shapeshifting, bunny lan wangji, bunji, POV lan wangji, lack of communication, getting to know each other, fluff, domestic, crack treated seriously, humor, confessions, brotherly feels, happy ending, @cicerfics
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G (maybe a very soft T for making out), 82k, wangxian, marked as incomplete, but it feels wrapped up tight, so ignore that
Summary: Alternate Universe - Jiang Fengmian never adopts Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan meets Wei Ying as a beggar on the street and convinces Lan Qiren to allow him to come live in the Cloud Recesses.
Lan Zhan and Wei Ying grow up together as best friends. Nothing has really changed, but everything is different.
My comments: A soft story wherein the Lans take in homeless wei ying and he and his lan zhan grow up together, tightly entwined. We get glimpses of their earlier childhood, pass through the cloud recesses study arc (look at lan wangji making friends! and being stoically amused by intimidating nie huaisang, who had the audacity to sneak liquor into his cup). There is light angst and pining, before they figure themselves out, but the wen attack and sunshot campaign bring them to a new understanding.
child wei wuxian, child lan wangji, in which wwx goes to gusu as a child, adopted by the Lans, non-yunmeng wei wuxian, friendship, different first meeting, POV multiple, growing up together, light angst, pining, students at cloud recesses, lan wangji has friends, oblivious wei wuxian, feelings realization, getting together, love confessions, attack on cloud recesses, sunshot campaign, fix it, soft, fluff, first time, fade to black
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Title: Marked for Retirement Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/34273351 Platform: Ao3 Creator: DreamingPagan Work Type: Fanfic Fandom:James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Teen and Up Pairing: James Bond/Vesper Lynd Word count: 1568 Warnings: Canon-typical violence Number of comments: 4 Completion Status: Complete Short summary/description: James and Vesper are supposed to be changing clothing, not discovering soulmate marks that change the mission and their entire lives. Too bad no one told the universe that.
Inspired by This Workby@fangirltothefullest because it was so beautiful and the expressions were so great I had to do something for it.
Logan gets caught by the Dragon Witch. Roman comes to his rescue.
…
To be honest, Logan couldn’t quite remember how they’d gotten into this situation. At the moment, he couldn’t remember much of anything. His head was in a different place, numb and scrambled, and at some level he knew this was all very illogical, and if he could just think clearly, just for a moment, he would be able to break out of this nonsense fantasy.
A spike of numbing pain, as more roots coiled up his legs, wrapping around his chest and up his neck, dislodging his glasses, which caught on a branch lower down. He hated this. Hated not being able to see through the fallacies of the situation, he hated being so helpless, he hated that despite his heart telling him Roman would come for him, his mind was telling him that he wasn’t worth the trouble, that the risk in rescuing him wasn’t countered by any kind of reward.
Because surely, if Roman was coming for him, he would already have been here by now. It felt like hours, had passed. He didn’t know the last time he was able to take a breath unhindered by twisting vines and rough bark squeezing his chest, the last time he could move his arms freely, think clearly, everything was so muddled and all he could do was stupidly, foolishly pray that Roman would come for him.
“Aw, what’s the matter, little logic? Afraid your prince in shining armor won’t show?” He winced at the sweetly simpering voice, the harsh tug of his hair, followed by a sharply nailed caress of his face, that left red lined scratches across his cheek. He wanted to glare at her, to shoot back of course he was coming, and once he got here, he was going to rip her to shreds. But he couldn’t find the words.
So instead, he simply looked away, eyes on the ground, refusing to meet her piercing silver eyed stare. She laughed, a far too bright and bubbly sound, that sent shivers down his spine, because it sounded so much like Patton’s, but so much colder. A vine climbed up the branches, wrapping around his neck, too tight to be comfortable, making it harder to breath, harder still to speak. And once again, he was so sick of his words being taken. Of being left voiceless, and he hated himself even more for his weakness as he felt tears slip from his eyes, dark spots forming as they landed on the dry dirt below him. He was too numb to even pull away as she tsked, wiping away his tears, her dragon tail wrapped around the base of the tree, wings casting a shadow as she loomed over him possessively.
“Logan!” The voice was like a shockwave through his system, a brief wash of warmth that brought a flicker of clarity through the clawing despair, and for a brief moment, he managed to raise his head, to meet Roman’s eyes, before he couldn’t hold it up anymore, and it fell back against his chest. “Unhand him, you fiend! You will release Logan THIS INSTANT!” Roman roared, a fiery rage in his voice that Logan had never heard before, tinted by a dark undertone of fear. She laughed darkly, ruffling his hair as she turned, sharp teeth grinning at Roman.
“Now, now, little prince. You are in no position to make demands. You will give me what I want, or I will let the curse run its course. Your little boyfriend will make a very pretty tree, don’t you think? Cherry blossom, maybe, or perhaps lilac.” He gasped, a strange, aching pain gathering in his chest. He coughed violently, feeling blood on his lips, spitting petals out of his mouth. He could feel the gaps in the branches woven around his body closing up, squeezing tighter. No, not tighter. Assimilating him. Bark was growing over his legs, encasing them, and he let out a strangled whimper as the vine around his neck tightened, forcing his head up, forcing his gaze to meet Roman’s.
“Stop! I’ll do… I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.” Roman uttered, defeat in his voice as his shoulders slumped, his grip on his katana going from white knuckled to loose as he lowered it, embedding it into the ground and backing away. He winced as the dragon witch sauntered forwards, pulling the sword out of the ground, balancing it on the palms of her hands appraisingly.
“Such a pretty little thing. How many times, have you bested me with this weapon, I wonder?” Roman flinched as she snapped it in two, feeling as if a part of himself had broken with it. But nothing was as important as Logan, as getting Logan out of here in one piece.
As it was, he looked on the edge of passing out. His face was pale, the red of his lips standing out, the speckles of blood against them vibrant crimson. His eyes were dark and deadened, pain and fear clouding them, and he wanted nothing more than to pull him close and reassure him that everything would be fine.
“What do you want?” He bit out, anger tempered by worry and fear, as Logan struggled to breath.
“What do I want? You made me, little prince. Surely you should know already my purpose. I want to make you suffer.” She grinned, eyes flashing silver, and he raced forwards, uncaring of her laughter as she vanished, focused instead on Logan’s strangled scream.
He could feel it. He could feel his skin turning to rough bark, could feel roots wrapping around his feet, not growing up from the ground, but growing through him, tangling around his arteries and veins, clogging his bloodstream and blooming around his airway. He coughed, choking, spitting up more blood and petals, feeling it infecting his lungs, wrapping around his heart and constricting, the world spinning and blurred.
“LOGAN!” He managed to look up, to look at Roman, though he was just a blur of white and red. “Logan, hold on, I’m going to fix this, starlight, I’m getting you out.” Roman was scrabbling at the bark, trying to claw him out, but it was too late for that, Logan knew. It was inside him, it was in his blood, it was becoming a part of him, and already he was fading, shaking, he heard Roman’s sharp inhale as the bark climbed his neck, the spaces between the branches nearly all closed up, only his face still visible through the tree he was becoming.
“r-roman…” He managed, voice weak and shaking. Instantly, Roman’s hands were on his face, cupping his cheeks, stroking gentle circles against his skin.
“I’m here, starlight.”
“sorry… I…m sorry.”
“Shh, no, my love, it’s not your fault. You’re perfect, sweet pea. You’re going to be ok.” Roman murmured against his face, forehead pressing against his, until he felt the gap getting smaller, forcing Roman back. He felt the numbness creep across his face, and he took in one last shaking breath, before it covered him completely, before darkness encased him, before all light and noise and sound from the outside world was cut off.
He could hear his pulse slowing in his ears. He could feel his breath wheezing and stuttering. His mind was hazing over, his usually always turning thoughts were scattered and half formed as he felt himself melding into the branches twisted around him, felt his being becoming absorbed, one, with the tree around him, and he couldn’t even cry anymore, he was so far gone.
Distantly, he heard echoing thumps, screams, Roman no doubt beating at the tree, trying to reach him. He wished he could still see him, wished he could give him one last kiss, tell him it was alright, it wasn’t his fault, he wanted to say goodbye properly, but there was nothing for it, now. He couldn’t fight it anymore. His eyes were forced shut by the bark, glazed over with it, and he was dizzy, as the last air escaped his lungs, the tree melding into his arms, his legs, his body, until there was no separating him from the branches.
…
No.
Nononono
She’d gone too far, this time, surely she was bluffing, surely the curse would reverse itself any second, surely Logan wouldn’t… couldn’t be…
Gone.
He fell to his knees, crumpled against the dirt ground, hands curled into his hair as he howled, keening, screamed, because this hurt, this hurt more than any mere wound, this hurt more than being rent in two, this hurt a thousand times more than any other pain he had ever experienced.
It was his fault. He had unwittingly led Logan into danger, let him get snatched from right under his nose, he’d arrived too late to save him, and now he was gone.
His starlight, his moon, his galaxy, his swirling cosmos, his Logan.
He felt his fury rise, morphing his grief and pain into white hot rage, into sparking ire and an almost feral determination as he thought of Logan’s brilliant eyes, always glowing with new information, dazzling whenever anyone deigned to listen to him, debating theater and lyrics and poetry with him, they sparkled like the night sky. He remembered nights laying in the grass of the imagination, Logan carefully guiding his hand, placing the stars one by one to match Logan’s descriptions of constellations, to make it as accurate as possible, fascinated as Logan regaled him with every legend, every meaning, behind each one. He remembered Logan coming to his room, gently divorcing him from his work, ignoring his pleading for one last page, one last line, one last word, carding a hand through his hair as they curled together in bed, Logan’s soothing voice easing his mind to a standstill, calming the swirling, tenuous thoughts that clouded it, until he drifted off to sleep. He remembered going to Logan’s room and doing the same, ignoring his pleading of needing to adjust the schedule, to plot out Thomas’s day, to figure out when his meetings and appointments should be, easing the pen out of his hand, softly bringing it to his lips instead, murmuring sweet things to him until he was blushing and trying to argue against their validity, until Roman kissed him, promised him he meant every word, that he loved him, to the moon and back. Then Logan would start speaking about how far that actually was, and Roman would have him put it into more and more ridiculous units, how many busses, how many trains, how many bikes, how many pigeons, until Logan’s own mind had slowed from the focus of calculating, and they were both laughing.
Logan was his light, his world, his sun, his stars. He. Would. Not. Lose. Him.
He grabbed the snapped shards of his katana, pressing the broken pieces together, fusing them back into one with a blinding flash of golden light. He forced himself to his feet, feeling all the surging power of Thomas’s mind behind him, all the shaking, wild, untamable force of Creativity flowing through him, and shoved it all into a single thought, a single command, a single singing desire, a single, unchangeable truth, as he raised his sword, leaping into the air, aiming straight for the bark of the tree.
He was not too late. If cut open, it would free Logan. Logan would be alive.
He screamed, the sword coming down, cutting through the bark like butter, glowing with power, his eyes sparking with crimson sparks, his war cry echoing through the imagination, as he cleaved the tree in two.
It took a moment, for the dust to clear. For his senses to return to normal. He was shaking like a leaf, exhausted and drained, shaky with adrenaline, but he rushed forwards, unable to hear anything but the pounding of his own heart, as his gaze frantically swept the scene.
It was a few long moments before he placed Logan. He was held upright in place, against the inside of the tree, blending in perfectly with it. Bark covered his entire body, pinning him in place, consuming him completely. He gasped, rushing to his side, hesitantly careful as he reached out, relieved slightly as the bark easily brushed off of Logan’s face, the inch thick coating having lost all it’s life and magic when he struck it with his sword, crumbling to dust at the slightest touch.
Quickly, he tore the rest of the bark off of Logan, catching him as he fell forwards, the last of the bark keeping him upright crumbling away. He carefully brushed away the dusty remains from Logan’s face, his eyes, praying it wasn’t coating his insides as well. He couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. He thought he could feel a weak pulse against his chest, but he wasn’t sure, and he gasped out a sob, cradling Logan tighter.
“Logan. Logan, please, please, wake up, please, sweet pea, please…” He whispered, tears tracking down his face at how still his love was, how lifeless he seemed, limp body cradled in his arms. He held his breath as Logan let out a hoarse, rasping cough, eyes barely fluttering open for a moment, before slipping shut again.
“R-ro…” Logan managed, though it was clear the effort cost him, sending him into another fit of hacking coughs. Roman pressed their foreheads together, gently adjusting him in his arms so he was a little more upright, hoping that would help.
“I’ve got you, starlight. I’ve got you. I’m taking you home, okay? Don’t worry about a thing, you just get some rest for me. I’ve got you.” He pressed a soft, gentle kiss against Logan’s lips, smiling briefly as Logan leaned into the touch, before falling completely limp once more, unconscious.
He would come back and rain down hell on the dragon witch later, possibly destroy her once and for all for this, but for now, his entire focus was on Logan, as he summoned the exit to the imagination, crossing over quickly to his room, locking the portal tightly behind him.
…
He couldn’t breathe.
It felt like his chest was too tight, like there wasn’t enough space in his lungs to inhale and exhale, and it hurt, it terribly, awfully, hurt.
He was coughing, hacking, really, a deep chested, body wracking cough, and he heaved as he felt someone support him into a sitting position, shaking from the force of the air being expelled from him, finally feeling something dislodge, spitting a mouthful of petals and wet plant innards into the bucket held before him, collapsing back against the warmth cradling him close, recognizing that scent of aspen and ink anywhere.
“roman…” He wheezed, throat raw and sore, that simple word almost sending him into another round of hacking. He could taste copper in his throat, could feel it against his lips, and he shivered, realizing he was lightly feverish, folding tighter against Roman’s embrace as he encircled him in his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry, starlight. I never, never would have brought you with if I thought it would put you in danger, I won’t ever forgive myself for this, I swear, I swear nothing will ever hurt you, not ever again.” Roman murmured, voice shaking as he pressed his lips against Logan’s forehead. When he finally pulled back, Logan’s soft, exhausted eyes were looking up at him, hazed with pain and a breaking, tentative relief.
“you came. I thought you weren’t coming. I thought… I thought I’m not worth the trouble. Why would anyone risk themselves for me, why would anyone… why would you…”
“Logan, oh my Logan, my love. I will always find you. I would search for eons, I would travel to the ends of the earth, if that’s what it took to find you. I would never stop searching, not even the end of time would stop me, until I had you safely back in my arms. I love you, starlight. I love you, so incredibly much, sweet pea. I will always come for you.” He replied softly, tilting Logan’s chin up, tenderly meeting his lips for a long, endless moment.
“I thought I lost you, Logan. You nearly… and it’s all my fault. You’re hurt, and sick, and it’s all my fault.” His voice broke, tears slipping down his face as he gently cupped Logan’s cheek, rubbing softly over the bandaged scratches. “I was so scared. I was terrified, Logan, I’ve never been more afraid in my life. I would have done anything, anything she asked of me. I would have taken your place in a heartbeat, starlight, I would have let her have my crown, have my kingdom, have my life, I would have let her torture me, curse me, use me, however she pleased, as long as she let you go. I would give anything, darling dearest. I would give everything. Whatever little voice in your head that tells you otherwise is lying, and if you don’t believe me, Janus will confirm it for you.
You’re brilliant, starlight, brilliant and clever and you amaze me, every day, with how smart you are, how much you know about the world, the universe, your smile lights up the world, your laugh still makes my heart skip a beat, you are such a beautiful, kind, loving, person, Logan, and I love you. I. Love. You.” He uttered with complete conviction, lost in Logan’s beautiful eyes, surprised as Logan wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face against his chest, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Roman didn’t say anything, simply tucked his head over Logan’s shoulder, holding him close, rubbing his back gently, only drawing back when Logan began hacking again, concern flaring at the deep, bone shaking sound, Logan upheaving more plant matter.
“thank you.” Logan whispered, curled against his chest, eyes closed, trembling, small coughs still escaping his lips every few seconds. “thank you for loving me. For b-being so patient. I know I’m not… easy… to manage. But you’re so good, to me, Roman. I haven’t earned it.” Roman brushed a hand through Logan’s hair, pressing a kiss to his head.
“you don’t have to earn my love, starlight. You have it always, freely given. Just being who you are is more than enough, Logan. There’s nothing you could do, that would make me stop loving you with all my heart. You’re not a chore for me to manage, you’re my boyfriend, and there’s nothing I would rather do, than spend time with you, be with you, argue with you, make up with you. I love you.” He pressed soft kisses to Logan’s eyelids, the tip of his nose, finally brushing his lips, each action melting Logan further into his arms, nuzzling against his chest.
“I think I may pass out once more.” Logan mumbled, feeling Roman laugh softly at his slurred confession.
“You need the rest, darling dearest. It’s alright. The effects of a curse are exhausting, especially one like that. It should fully wear off within the day, Logan, and I’ll be right here, sweet pea. I’ve got you.”
“you always do. Love you, Ro.” He managed, through a deep yawn, slipping back into darkness as he felt Roman’s arms hold him closer, knowing with absolute certainty that he was safe.
He was sore. God, he was sore. Not that it was unusual for him to be sore. He got into all kinds of mischief and life-threatening scenarios every day. His imagination wasn’t nearly as tame as Roman’s usually was, blood and guts and death, oh my!
It wasn’t an uncommon sight, him bloodied and staggering down the hall to Janus’s room, or the living room, grin wide through red stained teeth, needing help patching himself up. Janus always grumbled and made a fuss about it, but with his extra arms he was fast, and always tenderly gentle, scolding him good naturedly the whole time.
Once Virgil would have helped as well. He was almost better at it than Janus, his fight or flight making him eerily good at assessing injuries, which ones were serious, which ones needed cleaning, which ones needed tending to first. But more than that, he often stopped Remus before he went that far to begin with, appearing in the shadows of the imagination and dragging him home, or teaming up with him to defeat the day’s monster, making sure they both stayed relatively safe.
Once he might have had Roman, watching his back, moving together as one, not needing to speak to understand the other’s movements. It was a well-rehearsed dance, one that was more familiar than breathing, one that brought to the surface a strange sort of quiet, in his mind, a soft silence reigning for a few precious hours, afterwards.
But they had left. And he was used to pain. Pain of dislocated limbs, the sting of disinfecting wipes, the bubble of iodine, the wheeze of cracked ribs. Once Roman would have healed him with a snap of his fingers. Once Virgil would have stopped him from getting hurt in the first place. But now there was only Janus, to piece him back together after.
And then the wedding happened.
And Thomas, more importantly, Patton, admitted that Janus was right. That their thinking was too black and white, that deception wasn’t everything Janus was, that his advice and opinions mattered. He would have loved to lurk behind the television and watch, but he had other business to attend to.
That business being Virgil.
He’d slowly creaked open the door, knocking softly on the door frame to alert Virgil to his presence. Now was not the time to scare the storm cloud. Virgil was already scared enough as it was.
“go away.” Came the muffled response, tempest tongue tinging it dark and growling, the shadows of the room darker than ever, and if he were anyone else, standing in there for more than a minute would have him corrupted beyond repair.
But he was Remus, intrusive thoughts, dark creativity, and anything the room could show him he’d already imagined himself, and though it was unpleasant, he knew they didn’t matter. Because Virgil was curled up under a pile of blankets, his shaking visible even from the doorway, the fear strong and visceral.
“Easy, storm cloud. It’s just me.” He murmured, stepping inside and letting the door close shut behind him.
“Oh goodie. All my worries are soothed.” Virgil snarked, voice trembling, and Remus let out a small huff, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, out there with Thomas, but he could feel the negativity roiling out from the living room, and knew Virgil was overwhelmed, trying to process it all, absorb it all, disperse it all. They were overwhelming him, and no one had even deigned to check on him, choosing to ignore him.
Thomas had chosen to ignore him. Remus knew that was hurting Virgil the most. That he hadn’t been called. That they hadn’t wanted him up there. That he had told the truth, bared his soul, and now Thomas wouldn’t even look towards his spot on the stairs. Carefully, Remus laid a hand atop the lump under the blankets, stroking his thumb in small, grounding circles, nothing more than a light touch. Virgil shuddered, but didn’t shift away.
“why are you here? Shouldn’t you be using this time to wreak havoc, or something?” He laughed again, a soft, warm sound, not his usual cackle. The kind of laugh only Janus and, once, Virgil, were privy to.
“I could. But even I know that would only make everything worse, and you’re already dealing with enough bullshit right now. I don’t need to add to the pancake pile of misery.” He stilled as the blankets shifted slightly, Virgil’s dark eyes peeking up at him, eyeshadow streaking down his face, more raccoon like than ever. “Let me help, kit?” He asked softly, Virgil’s eyes searching his for a long moment, before he nodded minutely, shifting to make room for Remus.
He didn’t hesitate. He slipped under the covers, Virgil squeaking as he slid in behind him, pulling Virgil onto him, his head resting on Remus’s chest, their legs tangled around each other, Remus’s head resting atop Virgil’s as he gently ran his hands up and down Virgil’s arms to ground him, humming softly, slowly absorbing and siphoning some of the anxiety and fear and negativity from Virgil, into himself. Virgil let out a soft sound, halfway between a whimper and a sigh, and he shushed him, pressing a kiss to his head.
“Y’know you don’t hav ‘t Rem.” Virgil slurred, eyelids drooping closed as the stress leaked out of him, his anxiety returning to normal levels as Remus took the extra.
“It’s ok, kit. I can handle it. You’ve already done enough, for today. Later I’ll go up there and give them a piece of my mind, for making you so miserable.” He smiled at Virgil’s small laugh, the emo pressing closer to him, and Remus wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him carefully close. “Get some sleep, Vee. I’ve got you.”
“m’kay. Ree? ‘M sorry. I… missed you.”
…
That was when it had started. It was small, at first, and he attributed it to his usual bumps and bruises, a sore back was rather tame compared to what he usually dealt with, of course. Still, he took it slow that day, choosing to rabbit hole down youtube, instead of wreak his usual havoc. He was still coming down from the effects of all the anxiety he’d absorbed in Virgil’s room, after all, and he didn’t want his creations getting away from him and doing actual harm elsewhere.
But the pain only grew.
Soon, his whole back was sensitive and tender to the touch. It hurt to bend, to stand, to move, to stretch. Even resting against the couch was a no go, any kind of pressure on it hurt like hell, made him bite his lip to contain the hiss trying to escape his lips.
But he suffered through it in silence. Sometimes, he thought Janus knew something was wrong, his gaze lingered on Remus for a moment too long, he watched a little too closely as he shifted so his back wasn’t against the back of his chair, a small wince when he laughed, a forced smile here and there, Janus could see through them all, but he didn’t ask.
Virgil was almost as bad. He’d lived with them, after all, and he was almost as sharp as Janus. After the wedding, he’d been visiting more often, which meant at all, really, but once a week turned into near daily, as Remus made sure to make him feel welcome, and Janus started warming back up to Virgil, started to close the icy abyss between them.
It was Virgil who apologized first, to Janus. It was stuttering and slow, and a bit rambling and incoherent, but that didn’t matter. Janus knew what he was trying to say, could feel the sincerity of it, and before Virgil had even finished, he’d swept him up into a hug, using all of his arms, Virgil melting against him with a quiet sob, repeating the same soft words he’d said to Remus after the wedding for Janus.
“I missed you.”
…
Objectively, Remus knew the others had wings. The light sides, that is. They didn’t appear in the videos, of course, only actually manifesting in the mindscape itself. He knew Roman’s were delicate monarch butterfly wings that he usually kept folded carefully against his back like a cape, and that he loved their look but hated how fragile they were, always having to be careful not to rip the paper-thin membranes. A hint towards the fact that Roman wasn’t as strong as he said he was, that he was, in fact, easily broken. He’d been allowed to feel them, once, it was like touching a cloud, soft dust coming away on his fingers in oranges and blacks, and no matter how much they had fought and scuffled in the imagination he had never once even dreamed of going after Roman’s wings, though they were his obvious weak spot. One clean shot of an arrow, one stab of a spear, one slash of a sword, would be all it took, but despite what they all thought, he did have some morals, and he would rather kill himself than steal flight from Roman. So, wings? Off. Limits.
Patton’s wings were the incredibly soft looking, the fluffy wings of a mourning dove. Soft tan and black speckled, with a smooth cream underside, he roosted the most of all of them, fluffing up and resettling his feathers frequently, a self-soothing habit that made the moral side even more adorable than he already looked.
Logan’s were the smooth, almost blue black and white speckled sharp wings of a peregrine falcon. He usually kept his primly tucked against his back, though if you sat near him, sooner or later they would stretch out, resting against whoever was near. He’d never admit it, but he loved it when the others stroked his feathers, preened them, while he read or studied or planned out a schedule. It helped focus him, and he found that touch easier to reach out and ask for than hugs or other kinds of touch.
And Virgil. Virgil, whom had switched sides, had grown so much, had started letting them back into his life, had earned his wings through his hard work, his steady determination, through his acceptance. And they were beautiful.
He complained about them, of course, more often than not, but Remus could see through the grumbling protests, to the pride underneath. Because he’d gained the magnificent wings of a Scarlet Macaw. They were a brilliant red, green, yellow, blue rainbow, and spread the widest of any of the side’s wings, the most powerful in flight, though Logan’s were, of course, the fastest.
He’d been so self-conscious of them, at first. They’d grown in after the accepting anxiety videos, making Logan theorize that they were earned when a side was truly accepted. He’d avoided their calls for three days, after they came in, terrified out of his mind, before he couldn’t resist the pull of the summons anymore. But they’d all fawned over them, asking if he knew how to care for them, patiently teaching him how to groom them, broaching the topic of letting someone else help. It took a lot of time before he let that happen, before he trusted any of them enough to even come near his wings, to stop flinching whenever anyone reached towards him, pressing them tighter than was healthy against his back more often than not, cramping them painfully. But he got there.
He wasn’t all that surprised, even, when Janus came out of his room, not long after the whole wedding debacle part two, electric boogaloo, swearing up a storm, furious as all hell, dark black wings in disarray, just a splash of vibrant yellow marking the top of his coverts.
“Yellow headed blackbird. Nice.” He commented idly, Janus simply giving him a withering stare, before pulling on his gloves and heading upstairs, no doubt to rip into the light sides, not that they could change it back. It was the mindscape’s decision, and there was no going back. At least Virgil would commiserate. “At least they go with your theme!” He called, laughing as he heard the door slam.
…
In retrospect, he was an idiot.
To be fair, he was always an idiot. He was sure the others would argue against that statement, which made a soft, fuzzy feeling grow in his chest, that nearly numbed some of the excruciating agony wracking his body.
He’d been laying on his stomach, chin propped up on his hands, idly playing with some new software on his laptop. It used the camera on the computer to register where your eyes were looking at the screen, and used his eyes as the pen to draw. It was a good way to keep himself distracted, it took a lot of focus, but he’d gotten sucked in pretty quickly, excited at the prospect of trying out new styles and techniques.
So, he didn’t notice, at first, the now normal ache that had been going on for the better part of two months, starting to consolidate into lines of pain on his back. He gasped at a sudden shock of fiery heat, momentarily breathless. He moved to sit up, to try and grab a heating pack, or the heated blanket he’d snatched from Janus, which had seemed to help, but the movement sent another shock of heart rending agony through his chest, and he fell back to his stomach on the bed, hands fisting the blankets as wave after wave of piercing, soul shattering, mind numbing torment wrenched through his marrow.
It was fine, it was fine, it was manageable, he could handle this, he’d had worse, he could deal with this, figure out the rest later.
It felt like his back was aflame. He could feel sticky wetness soaking his shirt. He could feel his muscles pulsing and pounding, could taste copper in his throat, could hear his pulse in his ears, and he realized distantly he was screaming, unable to stop, tears leaking down his face, all he was aware of, all he could feel, was the lightning tracing itself down his back, burning brands into his shoulders, like he’d been mauled by a dragon, like burning, breaking, pulsing, pounding, rushing, breaking, desperate agony.
With one final pulse of flaming excruciation, he felt his back split open, the pain recedes slightly, gasping in air as his scream died on his lips, shaking from the force of his desperate, gasping sobs.
He heard footsteps pounding down the hall. Heard his door slam open, but he couldn’t look up, his knuckles white against the blanket, his teeth grinding so hard he was surprised they hadn’t already turned to nubs, and he let out a sharp, short yowling gasp as someone touched his back, trying to flinch away, the movement sending black spots across his vision. He felt a soft touch against his forehead, cupping his cheek, and he managed to blink his vision clear, surprised to see Patton’s pale face, eyes huge behind his glasses.
“hey… da…d” He managed weakly, closing his eyes against a sudden muscle contraction, barely stifling his scream to a whimper, unable to even joke as he normally would.
“Remus. We are going to help. What happened?” Logan asked, and he gasped in another breath to try and steady himself.
“Dunno know, f-or once. W-was just… dr-awing. Been s-ore, two m-onths.” He answered, unable to stifle a cry as Logan attempted to move his shirt. “Pl-ease. Hurts, please…” He didn’t know what he was asking, exactly, just that he needed it to stop, he couldn’t think, it just had to stop!
“Hey. It’s gonna be ok, ok? Just… Logan’s gonna take care of you. It’s gonna hurt, but he’s helping, ok?” Virgil, kneeling on the bed before him, covering his clenched fists with his hands, gently rubbing circles on them, pressing their foreheads together. “it’ll be ok.” Then Logan pulled up his shirt, and he screamed, blacking out.
…
“Oh. Oh Remus.” Roman gasped, face paling as he took in the red that covered his back, the two deep, pulsing slits on either side of his back, running from his shoulder blades to the base of his back.
“what… what is this?” Janus asked quietly, eyes wide, Remus’s scream still ringing in his ears. He’d never, never heard Remus sound like that, scream like that, a true, piercing, pained scream.
“two months… that was… that was the wedding. When… when Thomas accepted the dark parts of the mind.” Virgil said softly, not moving from his place close to Remus, not willing to let go.
“it’s his wings. Lo, it’s his wings! They didn’t… they must not have formed right. They’re stuck.” Patton, voice shaking and horrified. “they’re trying to get out.” Logan inhaled sharply. He could see it now, the new muscles moving and shifting underneath the skin, the wing joints struggling to free the new appendages, pulling at the rest of his skin, making the slits wider.
“I need to manually free them, or there may be permanent damage to both his wings and his spine. It’s not going to be pleasant. Patton, can you go heat up some water and bring me some soft towels? Roman, go get the first aid kit from under the sink. We’ll need the bandages.” They both complied with a lingering look back at Remus, who was trembling, moaning softly in his uneasy unconsciousness.
“What do you need from me, Logan?” Janus asked, eyes meeting Logan’s, who adjusted his glasses.
“Help hold him down? I don’t know if he has the strength for it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to thrash or lash out. I certainly wouldn’t underestimate it from him.”
“I’ve got his arms.” Virgil said, startling them both. They hadn’t realized he was paying attention. Logan nodded sharply, and Janus climbed onto the bed, pinning down Remus’s legs. Logan pulled on latex gloves, taking a large breath, before carefully reaching into the leftmost slit.
Remus did thrash weakly, falling still after only a moment, though soft whimpers escaped his lips, breath gasping and stuttering, Virgil ceaselessly murmuring to him, trying to convey safety. Slowly, Logan navigated the crumpled wing out into the open, feathers matted and sticky with blood. The other was a bit trickier, it seemed to be caught on something, and he winced as he had to painfully wrench it to get it out, concern growing as Remus didn’t react to the movement, even his whimpers ceasing.
“Good. That went well.” Logan mumbled, looking up as Roman and Patton reappeared in the doorway, faces paling at the bloodied wings. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I hope.” Only Janus and Virgil caught those two mumbled words, as Logan ushered the two over.
“Each of you take a wing. We need to stretch them out to their full length to try and get circulation going. Cleaning them thoroughly with the warm washcloths and water should also help in that department. Once we get all the viscera off, we can work on grooming. I’m going to attempt to clean his back and asses the total damage to it, I expect he’ll need stiches up and down his back, once we get the bleeding staunched.” Logan explained, already dabbing at Remus’s back with the cloth, relieved to find most of the bleeding had already stopped, it was mostly dried blood coating his back.
“Virgil. You don’t have to keep going.” Janus said softly, catching Roman’s attention, who was working on Remus’s right wing.
“I do. I… all the times, he’s helped me, I have to at least do this.” Virgil answered, eyes closed, a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead.
“what do you mean? What are you doing?” Patton asked, not looking up from his work.
“He’s absorbing Remus’s pain. Taking it on himself so Remus doesn’t feel it. Remus can do the same, and often did, helping when Virgil’s anxiety was at unsustainable levels.” Janus explained, pushing back his hair before replacing his hat.
“Virgil-“
“I’m fine, ok? He’s the one who needs help right now.” He snapped, the room falling into a tense, focused silence as they all worked, carefully dabbing, sewing, straightening, trying to get his wings into any semblance of normalcy.
Virgil just prayed that they’d still be usable. Two months. Two months, it must have hurt like a son of a bitch, and Remus hadn’t said anything! He was supposed to be the observant one, the worry wart, he was supposed to expect things to go wrong and keep an eye out for when they did. He should have known, should have realized, after Janus got his, that of course Remus wouldn’t be far behind. Especially after he’d helped him, when no one else had and he knew, knew, in his soul, that Remus helping him that day was what shifted everything. It was his fault, Remus was like this because of him.
“It isn’t your fault, Vee.” Janus murmured, sitting down beside him, setting his gloves aside. “I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t think it was this severe. He hid it well.”
“He always does. He’s an actor, remember?” Virgil mumbled back, letting himself lean back into Janus’s embrace, letting the silent tears slip down his face.
“We’re finished.” Logan said, wiping sweat away from his brow, cleaning up the washcloths and repacking the first aid kit, leaving it tucked under Remus’s bed. “I’ve sutured and bandaged his back, and it should heal up nicely, given time. His wings will need daily stretching, it may be hard for him to flex them to their full length on his own, given their extensive cramping, so we may need to help him hold them there. But the overall condition of the wings themselves is encouraging. Given time, he should be able to fly and they should have no lasting permanent damage.” Patton let out a deep sigh, sinking to the floor in relief, arms wrapped around his knees. Roman sunk down beside him, pulling him into a hug, Patton wrapping his wings around the both of them.
“Thank you, Logan.” Janus said softly, teasing his fingers through Virgil’s rainbowed feathers, feeling him melt against him with a shudder.
“Of course. I would suggest we all go get some rest. I would expect him to stay sleeping for quite a while, given the amount his body needs to heal. I’ll check on him this evening, to change his bandages, but he should be alright. Virgil, you can stop, now. He should be in a relatively minimal amount of pain, now.” Logan added, shooting a quick look at Virgil that held an entire lecture, and Virgil sighed, letting go, slumping further against Janus at the exhaustion washing over him.
“alright. Let’s go, Pat. I’ll keep you company.” Roman helped Patton to his feet, hesitating a moment, stroking Remus’s new wings gently. “Get well soon, Rem. I can’t wait to fly with you.” He murmured, smiling once at the others as he departed with Patton in tow.
“I’ll be going as well. I know there’s no use in trying to convince either of you to leave, though I would encourage you both to try and get some sleep as well, especially you, Virgil.” Logan said, nodding sharply once in farewell, closing the door behind him.
“They are stunning. I expect he’ll be pleasantly surprised, at how they turned out.” Janus mumbled against Virgil’s back.
“We match, kinda. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.” Virgil replied, smiling as he felt Janus’s laugh against his back.
They were beautiful. They shimmered like gemstones, sparkling and shifting iridescence. They started off a sparkling amber, before fading into a soft yellow, then glimmering green, which shifted into vibrant reds, bright oranges, deep blues, at the slightest shift of the light. They were relatively small, compared to the other’s wings, but that was natural. They were easily recognizable as hummingbird wings, rather fitting for the ever-energetic chaotic side. Logan had carefully shifted them so they were tucked against Remus’s back, in the position that would cause as little discomfort as possible, though no matter what he did, they were going to ache a bit.
“He’s going to be ok, Vee.” Janus murmured, wrapping his wings around Virgil, cocooning him in dark softness and warmth, something that never failed to put Virgil at ease, and soon enough, he was drifting off. Janus yawned himself, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, knowing he’d regret falling asleep like this in the morning, but he couldn’t help it as his eyes drifted shut.
…
He was sore. But less sore than he’d been in weeks. He shifted, wincing at the dull ache that came with it, before realizing he felt something soft and light against his back, against his skin. He knew, before even opening his eyes, he knew.
He should have figured it out sooner. Should have realized, and maybe he had, but he’d hoped he was wrong, been in denial, because why would he have gained wings? He hadn’t done a thing to earn them, he didn’t deserve them, maybe he should just cut them off himself, before the others saw them and started asking questions.
“Remus.” Well shit. There went that plan. He managed to crack his eyes open, looking up at the slightly blurry face of Janus. “You do deserve them. You have earned them. Everyone was worried about you.” He winced, Janus always could tell just what he was thinking. “only when you’re lying, to yourself or to others. Which you are doing now.”
“I’m not. I don’t deserve them, they’re probably horrible anyway, ugly and twisted and unusable and good for nothing, just like me.” He mumbled, looking away as he felt Virgil take his hand.
“They’re beautiful, Ree. I promise, they’re none of those things. Logan said you’ll need to stretch them and build up strength, but you’ll be flying in no time. Take a look, yeah?” He agreed grumblingly, letting them help him to sit up, legs dangling off the side of the bed. Carefully, Virgil grabbed hold of one of the wings and stretched it out to its full length, Remus’s breath catching as he stared, incredulous. Slowly, he reached out, running a hand through them, marveling at their softness.
“I’m gonna let go. Try and hold it here, okay?” Virgil asked, and he nodded. Virgil let go, and for a moment, it stayed extended, before it slowly curled against his back. With a small shake, Remus ruffled and resettled them, wincing at the tug moving them caused.
“That’s good, Ree. That’s really good.”
“I… I’m really gonna be able to fly?” Remus asked, voice small and almost afraid, and instantly, Virgil wrapped him in a hug, letting Remus tuck his head against his shoulder.
“Yes. We’re all going to help teach you, help take care of them, help take care of you, and we’re all going to be there for your first flight. I promise.” Janus joined in, hugging Remus from behind, careful of his wings, a steady weight against his back.
“You’re going to be a magnificent terror of the skies, Remus.” He let out a small laugh at that, hiccupping on a sob that escaped his lips instead, as he pressed tight into his best friends’ arms, both of them murmuring reassurances and encouragements and compliments, and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere, anywhere else.
Many people believe that if someone likes to get spanked, it is all sexual. That is not the case all the time. Even though getting spanked has some sexual effects or enhances sexual arousal, there are many non-sexual benefits from getting spanked. What can spankings do for you?
1. Getting spanked relieves stress.
2. Getting spanked is calming.
3. Getting spanked generates endorphins and puts you in a euphoric state.
4. Getting spanked generates adrenaline and gives an adrenaline rush, especially if you are anticipating getting a very harsh one.
5. Getting spanked lifts moods. Russian psychiatrists have found success in treating depression with bare butt whippings.
6. The marks left from getting spanked is like an art of its own.
7. For some, it can restore feelings of youth.
Don’t be ashamed of getting spanked, enjoy it! For those who never tried it in your adult years, give it a try. You never know, you may like it.
the most amazing part of that finale was Moira officiating the wedding. What an incredible talent Catherine O’Hara is to pull off the comedy and the emotion of that scene. I am going to miss this show so, so, soooooooo much.
