There Is Nothing To Forgive a Braime soulmates one shot
This fic is a twist on the “shared dreams” soulmate trope, where, in my version, the God’s let your soulmate appear in dreams.
Jaime Lannister had never been good with words. All his life they had evaded him, from the time when he was a child and he couldn’t read without a heafty struggle, to his adolescence when he’d attempt to express to Cersei his feelings.
She didn’t care of course. She didn’t want his love, his admiration, and she didn’t care about his words, or lack thereof. All she wanted was his body and the pleasure it could bring her, all she sought was the security of knowing he was hers, under her spell, forever.
So the appearance of anyone speaking to him in dreams was odd. He was visual, and his dreams often came as a bombardment of images, some cruel, some lovely, all powerful, without a word to be gleaned from any of them.
But this night was different.
The dream was simple really, he was there, in the throne room, watching from above like a raven in the rafters, Aerys on the throne, his own white cloak shining. He watched as the mad king laughed, and he could hear the innocent scream as the king shook with wicked, mad laughter. He tightened the grip on his hilt and stepped closer. He could not hear what Aerys was saying, nor could he hear any other words, but he could smell the sickly chemical scent of wildfire and could feel the heat that would surely come from it.
He watched his own hands shake as he took another step up behind the king, all the fear he had felt in that moment evident on his terrified face.
But suddenly, he was not alone as he raised the sword to strike true. A girl, tall and strong, with long blonde hair hanging down her back. She was younger than him, but her eyes glowed like saphires and as she pressed herself against him, she took his hand on the swords hilt in her own, wrapping a warm hand around his, and helping guide the blade.
I understand. Her words materialized in his mind, and she smiled sadly before helping him guide the word into its sheath through Aery’s back.
Forgive me. Never before had he spoken in a dream. Nor had he cared to.
There is nothing to forgive.
She faded before he could get a true glimpse at her face, leaving him alone to claw at the air, before waking bolt upright, alone in the summer night.
—
Actions spoke louder than words, and yet words were what Brienne put stock in. Honor was her pillar of principle, and she believed in any man’s word as she expected them to do in hers.
And so, when a young man’s begging voice pierced the foggy clouds of her dreams one night, begging for help, for forgiveness, and justifying why he killed.
For the innocent. For those he would slaughter. Because if I do not do it, who can?
She felt a strange sense of longing for that voice, for the man who must wield its mighty tone. She let herself drift towards it, it’s words becoming more and more earnest, panicked, even.
Please, mother, father, someone, guide me.
She searched the crevasses of her dream for its source, but as always found no images, only fragments of words. But then, just as she was about to give up, heappeared.
Forgive me.
The boy was behind the mad king, drawing his sword, tears gathered in his eyes. And suddenly, Brienne was there too. One look at the boy and she knew what he needed. She wrapped her hand around his, and pressed herself gently beside him, taking on the burden of the blade and the sentence it was about to deal. She knew how this story would end.
The sword pierced.
There is nothing to forgive.
All was warm and light was everywhere for a moment, and then it became too much and she awoke, sweating and panting in the summer night air.
Soul dreams are a thing of the distant past. I am no fool. She repeated the sentiment over and over, across years as she travelled lands and seas, and came to the service of Renly Baratheon. Finally, she had stopped thinking about the boy, the Kingslayer, with whom she had shared a dream unlike any other.
Until the night she dreamt of the shadow.
Though she could not see it, she could feel the cool air sweep through the tent, and could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She felt her heart hammer in her chest, and her blood run frozen.
No. No. Please no. Do not make me watch this again.
Renly was dead a week, and yet she could not sleep without watching it play out, over and over again. Perhaps I am the Kingslayer.
You are not.
Suddenly she could see again, and there he was. Older now, but without mistake: Jaime Lannister.
It takes one to know one, and it is not you.
It was his phantom turn to come closer, to warm her against the chill.
How can I ever forgive myself? She wept as Renly before her died once again, and her heart felt as if it were frozen to ice.
There is nothing to forgive.
Her heart beat fast and she turned to see his face.
But he was gone. And she left alone in her bedroll in Catelyn Starks tent.
—
There is nothing to forgive.
Jaime repeated the words his golden haired maiden had once offered him so many years ago. He prayed it would bring her the same solace it brought him.
He had heard of soul dreams, of the most ancient and purest loves, ones which the gods themselves were invested in. Ones for whom the soul was so tightly bound that they could, when direly necessary, appear in dreams.
But he didn’t believe it. Rather, he believed that as comfort had been offered to him, so would he offer it. For some reason. He couldn’t quite place why, but something had compelled him to speak to her, to comfort her, despite not even knowing if she was real, or just a figment of his imagination.
He thought about it a lot on the road to Kingslanding, as him and Brienne walked in silence. There was something in the way she looked at him, this odd familiarity, overshadowed by anger and confusion. It made him wonder a great deal about what she knew of him. It was not an expression he was used to being on the receiving end of.
—
To Brienne’s chagrin, Jaime did not appear in her dreams after the night he lost his hand. Despite the fact that she so sincerely blamed herself for it.
But as they stared at one another at the bathhouse, and he suddenly, inexplicably began to speak, something in her chest thrummed.
“I know, Ser Jaime.” She said, before he had fully begun the explanation of why he killed Aerys. “You did it for the people, for the innocents. If you didn’t, who could?”
His face went slack and his jaw hung loose, eyes fixed on hers as they simultaneously put the pieces together. In unison they spoke their next words carefully.
“There is nothing forgive.”
~~~~~
Thank you so much for reading!!!! I am so happy to be back, and I hope to write a lot more in the coming weeks. Pleaaaaaaaaase send me any suggestions or promps you might have, or if you’d like to see more continuations of any of my work lmk!!!! As always, PM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list :) Love you all xx, Bea
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.”
O Tumblr, sweet Tumblr, what am I to do? Am I to mourn and pine over the lack of you? Do I lie here and weep, like the cloudy-grey skies That so bittersweetly remind me of your inquisitive eyes?
But what else can I do, for the rest of the day– “Honestly, it’s pathetic,” someone rational would say, As they stare at me lying prone on the bathroom floor, Without the energy to ask you to leave, and don’t forget the door.
And so, here I am, staring off into space, Wishing I was not such a romantic disgrace.
Honestly let’s lose this rhyming style so limiting, it’s frustrating and inhibiting.
What if Keith had feelings for Pidge that were so bad, he poured his heart out to the green lion?
Keith: *sitting in front of the green lion* Hey, Green? Do you know what kind of guys Pidge likes?
Green Lion:
Keith: I-I just wanna know.. for Lance! *lies*
Green Lion:
Keith: *sighs in defeat* Okay, fine; you caught me. It’s for me.
Green Lion: *eyes light up*
Keith: Well yeah, of course I like her! She’s smart, pretty, nice, funny, sarcastic- she’s perfect for me! I just- *fiddles with his hands nervously* I want to know if I’m perfect for her too…
Pidge: *heard the last things Keith said and is now hardcore blushing* Y-You do?
Keith: *turns to look at Pidge while his face is also red and terrified* Ah fuck.
Rating:E 18+ (scenes of a sexual nature ~ canon typical violence ~ rated E for latter chapters)
Pairings:Simon Lewis x Jace (insert chosen last name here) / minor Alex Lightwood x Magnus Bane
Chapter summary: Jace doesn’t regret his actions but he does feel a little guilty and he definitely isn’t sulking because Simon ditched him for his nerdy band practice yet again.
The meeting had lasted just over an hour, everyone going over reports and sharing information from the last week. It had been boring but Jace had forced himself to pay attention, taking everything in and forcing Simon from his mind. Concentrating on work had helped, Simon the last thing on his mind as he gave his own reports but as soon as the meeting was over and there was nothing to keep him occupied his mind had instantly gone back to Simon and before he knew what he was doing Jace had his phone in his hands, having already sent a text to Simon demanding to know if he had finished with his nerd thing as Jace was bored and wanted entertaining.
Simon had been quick to reply, shooting Jace down and informing him that he would probably be busy all night but promising to swing by the next day with lunch and a mango smoothie to make it up to him. Jace had only been slightly mollified with the gesture, sulking off to his room to go wash the hours of sweat off and ignoring Izzy’s knowing smirk and teasing comment about being abandoned by his not boyfriend. That had left a sour taste in Jace’s mouth and he couldn’t understand why. Simon wasn’t his boyfriend, nor had he been abandoned like some sort of unwanted animal. Simon was allowed to have plans outside of Jace. They weren’t exclusive or anything, they had other friends, Simon apparently more so than Jace.
He tried not to think about it as he headed to the shower, trying to ignore the bitter taste and swirling in his gut as he pulled off his workout clothes and leaving a trail behind him into the bathroom. Almost as soon as he’s under the hot spray though his mind begins to wander once more. Jace knew that he and Simon spent a lot of time together, more than was probably strictly necessary but it wasn’t Jace’s fault they got along so well now that they were actively not hating on each other. Things were easy with Simon, simple even. Jace knew where he stood with the vampire and Simon never expected anything from Jace other than for him to just be himself, flaws and all. So yeah, Jace liked to spend time with Simon because he enjoyed the vampires company and the fact he was pretty to look at made it even less of a hardship to be around him.
With his thoughts already occupied with Simon it didn’t take long for Jace to go back to that day’s training, remembering vividly how Simon had looked and felt under his hands. Having Simon on top of him seemed to be the thing his mind stuck on the most, Jace almost perfectly able to imagine what he would look like bouncing up and down with his head thrown back and eyes closed, his mouth hanging open on a moan and his razor sharp fangs almost glinting in the light.
Simon was always so loud in his fantasy’s, Jace unable to imagine him not making some form of noise even if it was a loud moan or a desperate cry of Jace’s name. Everything he knew of Simon fed into it, including all the times he had seen him shirtless and hair tussled, how cold he would be under his hands as Jace gripped at his waist and pulled him down against him. Reality overlapped with fantasy, Simon all bright eyes and wide smiles as he looked down at Jace like he was heaven incarnate even as his nails dug into Jace’s chest and drew blood. It was enough for Jace, finding his release embarrassingly quickly and having to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning Simon’s name. He had stood under the shower, breathing heavily and letting the hot water run over his neck and shoulders, the last faint echo of Simon calling his name taunting Jace with what he couldn’t have.
He felt guilty afterwards, always did but just like every other time before he stomped down on the feeling, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be enough to stop him from doing it again. It was a vicious circle of want and guilt that he just couldn’t seem to get out off but he wasn’t sure he wanted to, not really. He deserved to feel that heavy feeling in his chest, like something was pressing down on him, almost suffocating him. He deserves to feel ashamed every time his eyes drop to Simon’s ass or he spent to long trying to imagine what Simon’s skin would taste like on his lips. They were supposed to be friends and Jace was treating Simon like some sort of sex object and that was something he never would have imagined liking Simon to, especially considering how much of a walking disaster the other man had been when they first met.
Feeling sufficiently guilty and a little disgusted with himself Jace had flopped back onto his bed, naked and wet and just staring up at the ceiling as he wondered what to do with his free evening. It was stupid that he had just automatically assumed he would have been spending it with Simon, not even taking it into consideration that he would have had plans of his own. That assumption had left him alone with nothing with his own mind for company and that never ended well, the silence making it to easy for Jace to get lost in his memories to the point he felt like he was drowning.
He could try Alec, it had been a few weeks since he had seen his parabatai but he was loathe to disturb his and Magnus’ wedded bliss and he really didn’t want to play the third wheel yet again. Izzy wouldn’t allow him anywhere near her, not tonight anyway considering she was on duty and had been the one to force this night off on Jace so if he so much as tried to slip back into the ops room she would kick his ass all the way back out again. With Simon off at his band practice that left Jace with very few options and he really didn’t want to spend the night alone.
Sighing he turned his head to the side, staring at his abandoned phone and trying to will it to do something that would make the choice for him. Even if it was just to cover a patrol or something equally as routine Jace would take it, just for something to do. He hated nights off, never really knowing what to do with himself unless he had someone to spend the time with. That was normally Simon, Jace having spent every day off he had had in the last two months with the vampire doing everything from going out for drinks to shopping or even just crashing at Simon’s and playing video games and watching those mundane movies that the nerd was so obsessed with.
He wasn’t sure when it had become a thing, Jace practically demanding Simon’s attention even when he was working as well as when he wasn’t but it had and Simon was always so accommodating, allowing Jace into his space and his life without so much as batting an eyelid. It had never been a problem, until now that was because now it just felt weird to have free time and Simon not being there, Jace not knowing what to do with himself without the other mans presence. The whole situation was tragic, just highlighting how pathetic he had become.
Feeling frustrated and annoyed with his own stupidity Jace shoved up off the bed and started to angrily pull on his clothes. So what if Simon wasn’t around? Jace didn’t need the vampire there constantly to function. He had survived before the idiot came stumbling into his life, all nervous chatter with an uncanny knack for getting into trouble and Jace would be fine now. He could handle one night on his own, he just needed something to do.
It shouldn’t be that hard to keep himself occupied. He could head down to the library and read, he still had a book on modern mundane history to finish that Simon had given him when he found out how much of a history buff Jace was. He could go play for a while, though he wasn’t feeling it right now he was sure once he was sat down in front of the piano something would come to him and he would be able to lose a few hours to the gentle melodies. Failing that he was sure he would be able to find someone to spar with. Sure it may be overkill considering how long he had already spent training with Simon but at least it would keep his mind occupied and he wouldn’t be distracted by his chosen victim like he always seemed to be with Simon.
There were plenty of things for him to do that didn’t include Simon. They weren’t attached at the hip, they could do things on their own, should do more things without the other hanging around. Maybe if they spent some time apart Jace would be able to look at the brunette without thinking about him naked and his family would stop badgering him to ask Simon out when he really didn’t want to.
Mind made up Jace shoved his boots on. He would start spending less time with Simon and now was a good as time as any to start. So what if it was because Simon had other plans? It was still time apart. Jace was a fully functioning adult as well as a highly capable shadowhunter. He had fought monsters that legends were made off and gone through horrors that would leave a lesser man insane. Putting some distance between him and Simon should be easy, all things considered. They would spend less time together, Jace would get his own life back and he would be able to look at Simon for longer than two minutes without thinking about him naked. It was simple really, easy even and he would start tonight by proving he didn’t need the vampire around to have a good time.
Now he just needed to decide what the actual hell he was going to do.
“I’m jealous of Naru!” She snapped out, falling back on herself immediately, surprised with herself. Over time, Mai had seemed to have that effect on her quite a lot. It was infuriating. Masako was used to having a handle on her emotions. Used to the calm, detached look she kept. From their first job together Mai seemed effective in smashing through that. Annoyingly, Mai just blinked at her. Discomfort settled over her skin. “Well, are you just going to sit there or will you say something?” She asked with as much calm as she could muster.
“I…” Mai looked genuinely confused. Her head tilted to the side like a cocker spaniel. “Why would you be jealous of Naru?”
Masako… could not believe this. Just how stupid was Mai? No wonder Naru felt he had to keep an eye on her. Not only was Mai endearingly kind, she was also infuriatingly dense. This was one of the main reasons Masako hadn’t liked her to begin with. And then she had to go and… Be everything else. Everything she couldn’t always be. Kind. Emotive. Passionate. So, so passionate over everything. Like it just burst out of her because there was so much it had no other choice. “Because I’m in love with you.”
Mai froze and for the longest moment, Masako was terrified. It wasn’t the first time she felt fear. Actually, she has felt fear quite often. Both her own and others. But never like this. Mentally, she knew whatever happened ultimately didn’t affect her seriously. A rejection wouldn’t kill her or give her an irreparable injury. It felt like it could, though. It felt like everything in her life was riding on Mai’s next words and it was terrifying . Then Mai shook her head, eyes down. Masako’s heart plummeted.
“You're… in love? With me ?” Mai asked hesitantly. It felt like Masako was on a roller coaster. Or, she thought it felt like she was on a roller coaster. She’d never been on one before, but this felt like how she’d heard people describe it. Her heart flipped at the tone of Mai’s voice.
“Yes,” Masako said quietly. It felt like if she spoke any louder the moment would shatter and she’d be left behind in pieces. She didn’t think she’d be able to confess again, if this wasn’t real.
For a moment Mai gaped at her. Like a fish. And then her mouth closed and her eyes sparkled. “I love you, too, Masako.” The words were quiet, but full. Full in a way Masako didn’t really know words could be. Hope and joy and love and all the positive emotions Masako felt she could think of as well as a shyness that she’d rarely seen against Mai’s passion. But then… She smiled. And it was small, but determined, and Masako could see that addicting- and yes, infuriating - passion spark in her eyes. When Mai smiled, Masako smiled back. Smaller but no less brightly.
In a sterile white room devoid of any color and of any indication of ownership or personalization, laid a single figure on top of a white medical bed, white sheets tucked over her sternum. The room felt bright because of the color, it was also rather lonely and rather very empty—except for the pale woman with long purple hair that laid on the bed. An empty chair on her right side and bedside tables with nothing on top, on either side of her bed. Her hands laid on her sides and her eyes closed. There was no indication of movement except for her quiet breathing.
The door opened to reveal Damian Wayne in a white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slacks and black dress shoes. Despite his neat outfit, his hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot with eyebags underneath. He looked as though he had not slept well at all—which was likely the case.
Afterall, he had not slept well since the day Raven got stabbed. There were good days and bad, now—today was a better day. He walked to the empty chair beside Raven’s right hand, his back facing the door. He sat on the chair and gazed longingly at the figure on the bed.
And he recalled what had transpired that night—the night that caused Raven’s current medical condition.
Raven had fallen and her eyes slowly fluttered close. He could tell that she was trying not to lose consciousness. Raven lifted a hand towards Damian and Garfield’s general direction making Damian wonder if she was trying to reach out to him or Garfield.
‘It had to be Garfield.’, He thought because it would not make sense if Raven was trying to reach out to him. Damian couldn’t help but feel very bitter inside. She would never choose him. She would unlikely want to hold him with her dying breath.
At this moment the creature was distracted by Tim who was on the other side, seeing this—Damian took the opportunity to run to Raven. He took note of the footsteps that followed behind him, Garfield was right behind him as they ran toward Raven.
Her raised hand was faltering and Damian felt as though his heart was about to jump out of his throat– out of fear.
No. You cannot close your eyes. I will not allow it!
Damian ran faster towards Raven and as her hand fell to the ground, he finally reached her side. But her eyes had also closed, and Damian held his breath as he– so very gently, held her in his arms.
“Raven! Raven!” He called to her frantically. “No. No. No. Don’t close your eyes, please come back, stay conscious!” His breathing was ragged, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Damian bit his lip and held his breath in a conscious manner, as he tried to calm himself, and think. He had to think.
“Raven! Oh god no.” Garfield stood hovering above Raven, and the next second he was reaching out to Raven. But Damian pulled her closer to him and gave Garfield the darkest and cruelest glare Garfield had ever seen. And Garfield froze, he took a deep breath and gulped down his fear.
“Gar…” Terra came running towards Garfield, and her eyes laid on Raven. “No, if-if she didn’t try to protect me—” Damian gave Terra the same glare Garfield received, making her unable to finish her thought. She froze in fear too.
“We have to stop her bleeding.” Damian absent-mindedly said, his voice cold, and as he scanned Raven’s wound, his eye twitched. Raven had a gaping hole on her chest, Damian did not want to think about it—but the situation was truly grim.
“How are you going to—” Garfield received another glare from Damian.
Damian was not asking or seeking their help to stop Raven’s bleeding, he had said what he had said to inform them only. He will deal with Raven’s injury, no one else is suitable.
Damian reached for something in his utility belt, and he pulled out three silver balls. His facial expression seemingly frozen in a cold and uncaring manner as he placed the one-inch sized ball strategically on her gaping wound. He placed one on top and two at the bottom, forming a triangle. It beeped and glowed a faint blue and from it came out a purple like foam.
Damian’s right eye twitched, his lips pressed together so much that his lips became pale and his brows drawn so closely together, that he looked like he would punch the next person who would touch him.
He had no choice. This was the only way to ‘plug’ Raven’s gaping hole. She was losing too much blood because of it.
Damian clenched his teeth even more, if that was even possible. He leaned Raven on his right arm as his hands clenched tightly. If he had not had gloves on, then anyone would be able to see how white his fist had become. His brows still tightly knit together, it looked painful to watch his brows like that.
And to Garfield and Terra, he looked like the scariest man on earth. They seemed to fear Damian more than the unbeatable monster that had stabbed Raven into this state.
Damian hated what he had to do. He hated that he had to plug Raven like this. He hated that he knew he had to put her down now. Now.
There was a moment of hesitance, but Damian bit his lip till it bled to keep his focus.
“We need to put Raven in a safe spot,” He said in a clipped manner as he picked Raven up in his arms in a princess carry, “Distract that thing and keep him far away from her.” He continued absent-mindedly as his eyes quickly analyzed the best spot to hide her away.
And at the same time, he recalled her injury. There were no organs that were damaged, that at least is a good thing. And he hoped and prayed– at that same moment– that Raven can survive this.
With Damian standing on his full length, Garfield snapped out from his frozen state and had begun to reach out for Raven once again.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” Damian snarled in such an unsightly manner that Garfield remembered the initial fear Damian gave him. Terra did not feel the fear again because she was looking at Garfield with worry and realization. Terra missed to see Damian’s expression and his words did not register in her mind because she knew at that moment while looking at Garfield—that Raven and Garfield will always have history.
Of course, she knew of Raven and Garfield’s relationship and didn’t mind it. Raven was simply his past. Garfield told her that he loves her, and that he would never go back to Raven—if that was something Terra worried about. And he must have kept his word. But the years Raven and him shared was something that could never be erased. And emotions built up throughout those years was something that couldn’t be replaced so easily. To realize such a thing now of all places—
Damian had accidentally hit Terra as he started moving, cutting Terra’s thoughts. For a second her eyes laid on the boy wonder—and to her, she did not see a hero protecting or saving someone. She saw a man holding someone in a way that showed he was too afraid to hold any tighter in fear of losing her. A man refusing to blink, too afraid that it would be his last sight of her and that she would turn into dust any moment now. He held her in such a cautious manner—that it hurt to see him so forlorn like that.
That was something she thought she would never see in Damian Wayne. His body—every cell seemed to radiate a want to not let go of the woman in his arms. A conflict of holding her so tightly so he can remember how it feels to hold her and yet—still, he was a man of responsibility. Despite his desire to just be with her—he knew where he stands—the monster was still there.
Terra quickly turned, refusing to see Garfield’s expression—it was something she did not want to see right now.
“I will cover for you, Damian.” She told him firmly not waiting for a response and simply initiated her suggestion.
Damian sighed loudly in the white room, his forehead resting on his hands that was propped up on the bed beside Raven’s right hand. When they finally got to neutralize the enemy, the first thing Damian did was run to where Raven was. He was so afraid that when he got there, she would be cold and blue.
But she held on.
She held on.
He sighed again, as he turned his head that was resting on his right hand towards Raven.
He begged his father to help him keep her alive, and the first few months—God those were awful. When they arrived to have her healed, nothing was working. Whatever that creature was and what he did, messed with her. He begged his father to do anything—anything. Somehow, they found a way to stabilize her and close the gaping hole in her chest—of course every step was a struggle.
Seeing her with so many tubes and monitors, some advanced tech and some actual alien tech, hurt Damian in a way that a bullet shot could not compare. And he felt so helpless. It was probably the helplessness that hit him even worse than a bullet wound.
Damian Wayne—son of Batman, son of Bruce Wayne, a robin—a boy wonder—an assassin at some point, still a man seen as the heir of the Demon’s Head—felt so powerless despite all the titles and honor and glory those titles held. He still felt powerless.
He held the woman he had loved for years in his arms, and had to leave her in her injured state to defend the world of the very same creature that injured her in the first place. He left her all alone in a corner—not even knowing if she would be alive when he returned. He knew that having someone guard her would be a waste of manpower. He had to think of the bigger picture—because it is his responsibility, he couldn’t put her over that. And a small part of him hates himself for it.
He had seen her struggle to survive day after day, and night after night since then. The rejection her body faced—and his selfishness, thinking—hoping that she would survive it.
And she did.
She survived everything. And most of the tubes and monitors were finally taken away. Of course, she still had an IV drip and a monitor checking her vitals, just in case. Still, it was fifteen less tubes and monitors—and doctors and scientists.
Damian reached out for Raven’s right hand with his left, his palm resting on the back of her hand. He had gotten so used to all the tubes and monitors, that the first week without them was so unfamiliar to him.
Every time he visited her, he expected the tubes and monitors to multiply and revert back to when they couldn’t seem to cure her. Up until just a few weeks ago, he expected that they would return because she would become unstable again. But it never happened. He was so thankful it never happened. He slipped his right hand under hers, his worries just seemed like paranoia.
“Raven, won’t you wake up already?” He muttered as he had gotten used to talking to himself whenever he visited her.
“I still planned to confess to you,” He chuckled emptily “Won’t you at least let me do that?” He brought her hand to his forehead. “Let me be selfish…”
~.~.~.~.~
The door to Raven’s personal room opened, revealing Damian in his robin uniform, his mask off. He walked to her in a slightly slump manner and he took her hands on his and sighed.
“I’m sorry Raven, it appears that I can’t visit you for the unforeseeable future. Something came up.” He looked at her sleeping face sadly.
“Don’t be angry, I try to visit you every day after all, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes, but I never missed a day since you got injured.” He paused a vacant look on his face. “If you ask me, I’m pretty sure they were lenient on my lack of participation in missions recently because I looked as if I had lost a lover.” He laughed in a broken manner.
“It’s funny– how I am reacting as if I had lost a lover—when we never really got to be together. It would be nice if you wake up—at least let me confess to you clearly. And you can put a rest to my pining.” He didn’t know why, but he felt that he had to rearrange her hair before he left and so he did.
“I will come back, I promise you.” He said as he reluctantly let go of her hand. He refused to look back as he left the room, and took his mask from his utility belt and puts it on.
~.~.~.~.~
The door opened gently again as Damian Wayne in an all-black outfit walked in. He was in his signature black turtleneck. He had on a thin black framed eyeglass on his nose and held a book on his left hand. He had gotten used to opening the door slowly and gently, out of the fear that when he opened the door she wouldn’t be there anymore.
At first, he thought that it was an unreasonable fear, but clearly it was not. He was afraid that the time he wasn’t with her, she would have long been gone. And when he comes to visit, he would be greeted with an empty bed. And he would not be able to even say his farewells.
He closed the door even more gently—because when the door is closed this time was theirs—well his. Because she was still unconscious—still very unaware of his presence.
“Hey Raven, I brought the book I last read to you—I have enough time today to read to you just a few chapters.” He said as he walked to his position beside her. He took a seat on the chair and held her right hand with his right hand. “It would be nice if you woke up soon.” He smiled grimly, the words have started becoming something he said out of habit.
Damian gave her a little recap of what he had read to her before as he held her hand. After that, he continued where he left off, holding her hand when he wasn’t flipping through pages. He read in a slow manner; his mind more aware of the fact that her hand felt so very right against his, instead of the words he was saying aloud.
~.~.~.~.~
Raven was still lying unconscious in the white room, on her white bed. Everything was quiet inside.
“Damian it’s been almost eight months!” Came a voice from outside the room.
“So, what Grayson!” Yelled back the voice of Damian Wayne. He was in an argument right outside of Raven’s room with Dick Grayson, his adopted brother—also known as Nightwing.
“Are you serious Dami?” A pause. “At least let others see her!”
“By others you mean Garfield, right?” A loud bang was heard from inside the room.
“Well—shit, yes! Why won’t you let Gar see her? He has been asking about her or where she is.”
“Don’t you dare bring Garfield to see her—don’t you dare!” A furious reply from Damian as shuffling footsteps were heard.
“Look man, I get it. I really do. But Damian, you can’t just hide her away from her teammates.” Dick said in a tone of anxiousness.
“You see her too.” Was Damian’s quiet response.
“You know that’s not what I mean.” A louder bang entered Raven’s room ending Dick’s words.
“She planned to leave anyway.” Damian said defensively. There was silence for a few seconds and a frustrated humph could be heard from outside the room.
“I—I didn’t think anyone would be able to deal with seeing her in that way—I” Damian paused. “I don’t think they’d want to see her in a coma—I thought it was for the best. I—I’m sorry Grayson, I will let them see her—but—just not Garfield, Grayson. That is all I am asking from you, just not him. He caused her enough pain.” And the door to Raven’s room opened. She still laid there asleep. Damian did not wait for Dick’s reply and he slowly closed the door behind him.
He was in a black button up polo shirt tucked into his black slacks, that was held into place by a black belt with a silver metal piece and he wore his black leather shoes. He looked tired but there was no hint of anger from what had transpired outside Raven’s bedroom.
“You must have heard our little argument, huh?” He said approaching the familiar chair he always sat on when visiting her. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your sleep.” He continued as he sat down on the chair and took her hand in his again. “Of course, I didn’t disturb your sleep, after all you’re still unconscious.” A hollow chuckle soon followed.
Damian placed the back of Raven’s hand against his forehead. “You can wake up now. Scold me for being so selfish. For not allowing Garfield to visit you. In fact, for not letting anyone else visit you aside from a select few. But—mostly Garfield. I will not allow him in here too— in this space– so why don’t you wake up and just tell me how selfish I am.” He tilted his head to look at Raven while her hand was still pressed on the temple of his head.
But as usual there was no response, he was so used to talking to himself by now. At this point, Damian was very convinced that Raven had tried to reach out for Garfield, one last time, before she fainted. And the thought was something that caused him bitterness.
Even in her near-death, Garfield was the last in her mind.
~.~.~.~.~
Damian was sitting on the same chair holding Raven’s hand. Three months have passed since Damian and Dick’s heated argument outside of Raven’s bedroom. He wore a red hoodie with black pants and black shoes. This time around, for the first time, he looked less tired since this whole ordeal happened.
“It looks like you had a lot of visitors this month too.” He glanced at the flowers on both bedside tables, pictures in frames of Raven with the team and other things. Now the room seemed to have a little bit of a personality.
“I think it’s great that you have some visitors. Though I admit, I think that eventually they will come to visit less and less, so I think you should wake up soon. Everyone misses you a lot. I think the longer you stay asleep people would forget about you. Everyone you know is a hero Raven, and even though you stay asleep—we still have to defend the people. Everyone’s priorities will shift and they would have less time to see you. And because they have started settling with your absence, for sure the visits will lessen. But I promise, I will visit you every day until you wake up.” Damian placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand and he froze.
His lips hovering over her hand. He wiped the spot he kissed her at, with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, I should be asking permission. I didn’t—” He stared at the back of her hand. “I’m sorry I don’t know since when I started doing that, but I’m sorry. I overstepped.” He gently placed her hand back on the bed and stood up. “Let’s see what’s in the drawers, shall we?” He muttered to himself and surveyed every nook and cranny and objects in her room, keeping a mental inventory.
“We will be starting a new book soon. I no longer keep track of the books we’ve read.” He said after finishing his inspection of the room and went to sit back on the chair and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Well—I mean I keep track of the titles but no longer itemize them…” He added quietly, he used to count them but stopped at around the fifth book because it seemed like the list would continue to grow. And seeing the number rise would just be another reminder of the fact that the days waiting for Raven to wake was stretching to impossibility.
~.~.~.~.~
It was a little over a year since Raven has been in her comatose state. The room felt heavy and she stirred because of it. Her breathing a little louder—a little labored. Her eyes fluttered open—her vision a blur. She saw two figures at the foot of her bed. The taller one looking at the shorter man. The shorter one was looking at her startled—he seemed to have an odd skin color. She could almost swear it was green. Raven’s eyes started to roll back to unconsciousness.
“Dick, she’s awake!” It was a familiar voice; Raven couldn’t help but think.
“What?” Dick turned to look at Raven, her eyelids slowly closing, her labored breathing slowly quieting down.
“I saw her eyes open; I swear it!” She recognized the voice as Garfield, but knowing who it was did not give her any extra motivation to fight her sleepiness.
“What the fuck is going on here!” Another familiar voice furiously entered Raven’s faltering consciousness. She wanted to wake up—to fight the tiredness she was feeling. But it was simply too late now.
The door had banged open when Damian entered. Damian was still wearing his black outer coat, his shoes dirty as he had just arrived from outside. He had no time to freshen up to visit Raven because he found out what Dick was up to.
When his eyes laid on Garfield who was looking at Raven, he wanted to rip Garfield’s head off. Damian Wayne looked like he was going to pop a vein on his neck. He glared at Dick with such open hostility that Dick was taken aback, and Garfield beside him recalled the fear Damian instilled in him that night Raven got injured.
“Her eyes opened; I saw it!” Garfield said frantically, hoping that would ease Damian’s anger. Damian stole a glance at Raven—but she was at the same state he had last seen her in.
Comatose.
“I asked you one thing, Grayson!” He growled as he slowly stomped his way to Dick whose hands were up in a ‘I surrender’ way. Damian grabbed Dick’s coat collar and pulled him close. “One thing Grayson!” He shoved Dick and pointed at Garfield.
“Look—you can’t continue denying someone who wants to visit a friend.” Dick tried to calm his brother down as he straightened his coat.
“Friend?” Damian snorted in response.
“Look, Damian I begged Dick to bring me to her.” Garfield said and he received Damian’s angry glare.
“Get. Out.” Damian simply said, he looked as though he would kill either of them any second now. For some weird reason Garfield got a little more courage at that moment, he began to open his mouth. Dick seeing Garfield’s lips open—quickly intercepted by pulling Garfield by the arm and pulling him towards the door.
“I’m sorry little D, we will talk about it outside.” Dick said as he draggedGarfield out, giving Garfield a stern look to ensure Garfield’s silence. Garfield wasn’t happy but he understood that Dick was looking out for him.
Damian stood where he was, glaring at Raven as he waited for the door to close behind Dick and Garfield. He was stiff in his spot and his fists clenched so tightly. He was still very much angry. He stood like that for five more minutes before he tried to calm himself down. His fist unclenched and his brows unfurrow.
“So—well, stop pretending then—he’s gone now—so wake up.” He demanded in a low voice as he hovered beside Raven near the chair. She did not move. And Damian laughed brokenly as he fell on his knees. He reached out for her right hand absentmindedly and rested his nose on the back of her palm.
“So, it turns out you just needed him to visit you to wake up?” Damian whispered as tears fell on her hand. “So why aren’t you awake already?” He sobbed.
It was never him—she never chose him.
~.~.~.~.~
It had been four months since Garfield had been regularly visiting Raven, and at times he would also bring Terra with him. Damian had conceded Garfield’s wish to allow him visitation rights to see Raven. Damian could not stay angry at Dick for over two weeks, and the pair reconciled, despite Dick undermining Damian’s wishes. Damian understood that Dick was looking out for him.
Damian’s family was very much worried over him since Raven’s fall. He acted more detached and unapproachable. He wasn’t sleeping well and every second he could spare he was always hovering over Raven. In fact, he slept well hunched by Raven’s bedside with Raven’s hand against his hands and forehead. Damian was even unwilling to celebrate his twenty-second birthday with Raven still unconscious. And they could see the toll it was taking on Damian.
His family knew he needed a little push to try and let Raven’s state go and pushing Damian to allow Garfield entry was the way to do it. Damian needed to move on.
But here he was again, in the white room he specifically prepared for her. Her accommodations are all arranged by him, and his visits are always a constant. But the past four months were difficult, as he was also actively avoiding having to meet Garfield when Garfield was visiting Raven.
When Damian was able to take a step back from his anger at what Dick did—he knew that his family did it to distract Damian—to keep him away from lurking around Raven. He understood it was made of good intentions. Damian reached out for Raven’s hand, a habit he has come to develop long ago.
He wore a plain white shirt with jeans. His hair was not as neat as it usually was, and there were eyebags under his eyes yet again.
“But I guess I am a man who will only love one person in their lifetime.” He muttered, placing Raven’s hand against his right cheek. “I’ve come to wonder sometimes if I am unfortunate to be such a man—or to fall for you—” he studied her face; he has memorized every detail about her. How could he not when he was here, beside her so frequently.
“I’ve come to learn that loving you is not something to be regretful about. In fact, I am rather thankful for it. But you really got me pining over you, Raven.” He sighed, his eyes not capturing even the smallest of movement from Raven. “I love you.” He whispered and brushed his lips against the skin on the back of her hand.
A week and a half after, Damian paced at the foot of Raven’s bed, very much frustrated. He paused and glared at Raven, running his hands through his head, a sign of his developing anger. He stomped towards his spot as he glared at Raven again.
His hair was a mess, his eyebags had gotten darker. His clothes that was a plain black shirt with jeans had creases, very uncharacteristic of him.
“I don’t get it!” He said, containing most of his anger. “You obviously woke up the first time Garfield visited you! Tsk, as it turns out, all you need was for him to visit you– for you to wake up. So why did you go back to sleep!” His tone louder now and he sighed to try and dispel a little of his anger. His hand at his side clenched into balls.
Damian was seething in anger, and he exhaled and inhaled in air as if he was palpitating. Finally, the anger he had dissipated. But it was replaced by raw hopelessness, anyone who would see him in such a state, would feel their hearts knot.
“You really—really got me pining over you.” Damian said as he knelt on the floor with a hunched back as he took her right hand in between his palms. “It’s funny how you pined over someone else as I pined over you—it seems that you’re making me pine over you just as long as you pined over him.”
The chair he usually sat on was across the room, toppled down. A droplet of water falls in front of Damian’s right knee.
~.~.~.~.~
Two months passed just like that. Raven’s friends had long since stopped visiting her as frequently as they did the first three months. Asking them to take so much time off of their busy hero life was too much to ask for. But Damian always made time for her, and at almost a year and a half the toll of doing so had fully manifested.
He looked so tired, his eye bags are in the darkest shade it had been since the accident. He looked thinner, not scarily thin, but it was obvious he had lost some weight. His clothes were as neat as it could be. His white button up shirt crisp and so is his black slacks. His black leather shoes are very shiny. He placed a lot of effort in his appearance because even he could tell that his health has waned, and he was compensating with his clothes.
When Raven was in ICU for the first three months, he was in such a bad state. When she finally got relatively cured but was in comatose, he looked better– more relaxed. Then a little after, he had to continue with his responsibilities, particularly as a hero and somehow, he managed. The weight he had initially lost, he had regained and now he had shed perhaps even more than he did at that time.
But now at almost a year and a half of juggling hero life, personal and family life. Being with Raven almost every day since the night she got hurt. To actively avoid Garfield while Garfield was visiting and arranging his own visits to go around Garfield’s visitation, but also keeping to his schedule and preference of seeing Raven on a very regular basis. And Raven still not waking up—Damian was quite spent.
He was sitting on his chair facing Raven’s right hand. His head propped onto his hands which were propped up on his knees. He was looking at Raven’s face blankly, dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.
Raven’s state was always at the forefront of his mind. And when he was on a mission, he tried to put it as a lesser priority. But when he is near to death his first thought is: If I die who will look after Raven? And so, he fights with every screaming fiber he had, even when he was in such excruciating pain. After all, he still had to see her wake up.
One would think a year and a half wasn’t really a long time—but it did not feel like it has been just over a year for Damian—it felt like he has been waiting for her to wake up for five years.
He had just realized quite recently, just exactly how much stress he had gotten due to all this. And it was taking a major toll on him. He now completely understood why his family was worried about it—about him. Hindsight after all is 20/20 and he now clearly saw exactly how concerning his state was.
There was only one solution. His eyes flickered to Raven—he had not noticed that his gaze had drifted off of her and was surprised when his eyes laid on her again. He sighed and suddenly stood up, and picked up a lock of her hair.
“Raven, your hair has grown quite a bit—it’s already at waist length. I thought of having it cut—but I think that should be your decision.” He placed it back down. “If you don’t wake up any time soon—I’m afraid I would have to let you go.” He mumbled to himself as he turned around to lean on the bed and gaze at the ceiling blankly.
Two weeks after, Damian was back in her room, looking even worse. This time he was just standing beside Raven with a very empty gaze. He had been standing there in his black slacks, black dress shoes and a green button up polo shirt for fifteen minutes already.
“I give up Rae.” He looked down on the ground. His words were so soft because he was very much afraid of the implications himself. He knew he had to let her go.
“I—I don’t think I can visit you like this.” He fought the tears as he said his words a little louder. And there was nothing left to say, he just softly touched her hand for a second and pulled away and then looked at her blankly.
A month after Damian’s decision to let Raven go, he realized getting to the conclusion and acknowledging what had to be done and executing his decisions were two completely different things. He was still visiting her in the same consistency that he always had. And he knew he had to fight to break the habit that he had already formed. Seeing her was second nature to him, and he simply had to break it.
~.~.~.~.~
Two months after, Damian was finally able to decrease his visits. And had even met Garfield a few times and actually didn’t mind it. His visit reduction was not really significant but the fact he was able to decrease it at all, was a win for him.
He was in jeans and a red shirt, looking very casual and he looked more unbothered and not so tired. His hands in his pockets as he just stood. For the first time, he looked genuinely relaxed. His gaze at her was soft and the eyebags he had been sporting in different shades, for almost two years, were significantly less dark this time.
“I know I don’t visit often anymore—and you probably can’t tell—aside from the obvious,” A small twinkle in his eyes at the little joke. The fact that he could make a joke like that, spoke volumes of how far he had come. “You really made me pine over you for the duration you pined over Garfield. Nine years—you really made this whole thing come into full circle. You pined for him for nine years and decided to move on completely—but this happens.” He gestured at her generally.
“Now I have pined for you for the same duration, and I have decided to move on too.” He said grimly and the hint of playfulness he had prior was gone. “It really came full circle.”
He just stood to her right with a small smile. He tried his best not to stay so long to visit her nowadays. Damian found that standing was the best option in order for him not to stay longer than he intended.
Damian puts his hand atop Raven’s, he has also avoided holding her hand properly or else he’d find himself sitting on his spot and just holding her hand. He would then talk to her and the intended short visit would become like his regular visits from before.
“I have decided. I am moving on—I am letting you go.” And he pulled his hand away a little too quickly, afraid of the temptation that was the familiarity of her hand against his—or maybe it was his hand against hers. After all, it was always him holding onto her.
His head had looked away to look at the flowers on her bedside tables. He has been talking to her about visiting her less, and letting her go for a few months now. At first it was just a passing thought. But the last two months, it seemed Damian had to tell her every time he visited. He was unaware of how frequent he was telling her that. But in retrospect, he could tell now that he had been dropping hints.
It started from hints, to telling her absentmindedly, to repeatedly telling her every time he visits—until finally he was able to visit less. And because Damian turned his head, he missed the small twitch of Raven’s hand when he pulled his hand away, to look at her bedside tables.
There was silence, as he looked down and closed his eyes. He squeezed his eyes for a moment then sighed as he looked at Raven, a faint smile on his lips. He took a step back, feeling as though he was leaving his heart on this spot. He then turned feeling lonely yet strong and regretful at the same time.
When he was gone, Raven’s eyebrow twitched.
The next day when Damian decided to check on Raven’s condition, he was frozen in fear to see the scientist and doctors hovering over Raven who was attached to so many monitors and tubes.
It was like he had stepped into the time she was brought in to close up her wound. He was unfrozen when she saw her spasming. He ran towards her, as her chest lifted and she was choking, black almost slime like blood came out from her mouth and spilled from her oxygen mask.
“Sir—we need you out of the way.” A doctor pulled Damian away. “Who let this one in!” The doctor added and a nurse took Damian away, trying to console him.
“This is odd—there seems to be no traces of the compound we found last time. But her body is rejecting something.” Damian heard the doctor say, at that moment Raven’s eyes opened and her line of sight fell on Damian’s instantly. Her hand lifted slowly to his direction; her eyes wet as her face slowly turned red from the lack of oxygen. A doctor had already punctured her lungs to assist her in breathing, but black blood was oozing out from it.
“Let me, the fuck go!” Damian yelled as he strongly shoved the nurse off of him. He was normally someone who didn’t do this, but seeing Raven’s face slowly contort to fear and resignation, he actually went against the nurse. He remembered when she was in ICU for the first few months he observed quietly from the distance, but he couldn’t now.
“Raven!” He called out as he knelt on the floor and held her right hand that she had stretched out. “I promise, I will not leave you. So, you have to fight this!”
She squeezed his hand in hers as best as she could as her eyes closed and a tear slipped from her eye.
“Sir—I’m sorry but you are being a distraction.” A bulky man approached Damian, giving him no choice but to let go of Raven’s hand and put his hands up as he slowly left the room.
“She’s—I heard the subject has powers—” A person in a lab gown said, perhaps a scientist.
“Patient.” A doctor cuts off the scientist.
Before Damian was shoved out of the room, he stole a glance of Raven, her hand was glowing a faint purple black hue. And it seemed that she could breathe.
“Sir—there seems to be something appearing—” And that was the last thing Damian heard before the door was shut close in front of him.
Two weeks later Raven was finally stable but still in a coma. They were fighting with her condition for those two weeks—cross referencing and analyzing data, finding and testing out new information. And everything has now calmed down. He was only allowed entry today after the stunt that he pulled.
Damian was sitting on his chair, holding her hand. He wore a white t-shirt with many creases. His hair is a slightly better case compared to his shirt. And the outfit was complete with a plain pair of jeans and casual shoes. And to top it all off, his eyebags had become darker again.
”You really scared me. God, I forgot how afraid I was of losing you recently—you really know how to make someone remember, huh?” He muttered as he put her hand against his forehead, he was shaking a bit, as he fought his tears. And he felt her hand twitch against his—and he choked as he looked at her face.
Her eyes were still close but for the first time, he actually felt her react. In two years, she finally moved. He smiled tightly and nodded his head. He brought her hand against his lips and softly kissed her hand.
“You reached out to me that night, didn’t you?” He put her hand against his cheek as he turned his head towards her again. “You have to wake up and clarify that to me.” And he heard her loudly inhale.
For the first time in months, he finally had hope that she would wake up. “I promise you; I will wait for you to wake up. This time, I will not break this promise.”
~.~.~.~.~
The door suddenly opened with a panic stricken Damian. He was unable to take off his outer coat and change into cleaner shoes because he heard a crash from generally where Raven’s room was located, on the second floor, when he had just entered the building.
“Raven!” He called out his fear practically at the base of his throat.
When he heard the loud crash, he feared for the worst. His eyes at first saw an empty bed, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest. The vase on her right bedside table with flowers had shattered on the floor. He quickly searched for Raven, and exhaled deeply when he spotted her at the foot of her bed. She was holding onto her bed with great difficulty. Her eyes observed Damian wearily.
He approached her, thinking that maybe this was a dream.
“Raven.” He whispered when he was two feet away, her violet eyes did not show any recognition at seeing Damian. He picked her up and carried her in his arms, and despite not recognizing him at first, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Damian.” She whispered and he squeezed him back. 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.
“It feels so perfect.” She gently told him, and Damian was startled by her words. A smile slowly formed and he found himself chuckling.
“I’ve been here almost every day, holding your hand. Maybe your hand molded into mine—” He shook his head. “Or maybe the other way around.”
“I—my memory is kind of fuzzy,” Raven said as she laid back in bed. “But I know you, I remember you. I heard you so often. It became scary when you weren’t there.” Her eyes started to flutter, she seemed a little bit too tired. But she continued to hold his hand until she fully fell into slumber, to which her grip loosened.
Damian took the opportunity to call the doctors and scientist to inform them of her condition.
When she awoke again the doctors, scientists and Damian were talking.
~.~.~.~.~
A month after, Raven was already walking by herself inside her room. She started walking around the villa quite recently. But she has not been able to walk outside yet. She found that once the door to go outside the villa was opened, her knees would buckle. So, for the past month she was mostly roaming indoors.
She had found out that this was one of Bruce Wayne’s properties, and Damian had asked for the property. Damian was someone who would never ask anything of anyone if he could do it himself, so it was surprising to everyone that Damian had asked for this villa. And because of that Bruce granted Damian the property, if not for that, in the very least to give Damian some peace of mind. At least then Damian would know Raven had a place to stay and would not be kicked out if he so much as vanished.
She also found out that Damian did not spare any expense in her recuperation and that her situation was quite odd. The creature’s origin could not be quite narrowed down, thus its effects on her were up on the air. But that was where the doctors and scientists and all the tech was for, alien tech included. With the collective resources provided, they were able to make something to assist Raven’s condition.
“Raven, I think you should really try to get out.” Damian said as he walked in. He looked so happy seeing her, just standing by the window gazing out. She turned her head to smile at him.
He looked better—in fact the happiest and relaxed he had ever been in two years. His clothes were pressed well, it was a casual attire, and he had no hint of any kind of weariness. No more eyebags, and his eyes no longer looked so dead.
“If you go with me, I can try.” She responded, she had not seen him in two weeks due to his busy schedule, with the team and talking to her doctors and scientists. Him learning and relearning everything about her condition since she got attacked, and he also had family matters, he didn’t really have time to be with Raven recently and she understood.
She kept herself busy by building her physical strength through walking within the walls of Damian’s villa. She also used the time to comb through her thoughts.
“Okay.” He agreed as he offered her his right hand and she accepted it with both her hands. Until now he couldn’t believe that she was awake.
“I really thought I was dreaming when you woke up a month ago.” He confessed again as he sighed and led her to the door.
“I’m here. Everything is still a bit fuzzy. But I know you—I trust you. Your Damian.” Raven responded unhurriedly as she placed a hand on his arm.
Fifteen minutes later, Damian came in with Raven in his arms weeping.
“I—I can’t… it—it…” And she wept.
“I’m sorry, we will take it step by step. I will be here if you ever want to try and go outside.” He comforted her as he placed her on her bed. She nodded as he wiped away her tears.
“I thought I was going to die—” She sobbed. “There was something I wanted to do… I don’t—” Another sob, “I don’t recall what.”
He held her hands and then she suddenly froze on the spot. She looked at him in the eyes, and she blinked as the tears fell. “I didn’t want to leave you.”
And this time it was his time to freeze on the spot. Raven pulled her hands away from his, and she placed her fingertips on either side of his face.
“I was afraid that I didn’t have enough time with you. I wanted to know you more.” Her vision seemed to go back to that night. “I wanted to be with you.” She absent-mindedly brushed her lips against his. And when the pressure registered in her brain, she pulled away, an apology at the tip of her tongue.
Raven was surprised to feel an even heavier pressure against her lips. And she returned the kiss as well as deepened it. She noted how she was reacting very naturally over the situation, and how inexperienced Damian was. And she pulled away.
“Is this your first kiss?” She asked him. And he looked away with a small blush on his face.
“It’s—I’m very inexperienced with dating…” He admitted, and she observed him as she wiped her tears.
“I’m assuming, I have dated before.” She replied impartially.
“Yes, Garfield.” He responded blankly, and when the name came off Damian’s mouth, he saw her expression soften. His eye twitched as he looked away. He suddenly felt her hands against his, making him turn to look at her again.
“Gar… field…” She muttered, his hand clenching at the way she called his name. “Was he the only one I dated?” Damian nodded in response.
“I see…” She said with furrowed brows. “My head is aching a bit. I think I should rest…” Raven lets go of Damian’s hands.
“Can we try going outside again tomorrow?” Damian was pulled out from his reverie with the inquiry, surprise in his eyes.
“Of course, I would love that.” She smiled at his response.
“Can you—” She looked at him hesitatingly. “Can you hold my hand when we do?”
He was even more shocked to hear those words, and he smiled as he placed a hand on her cheek. “Of course, Raven.”
“I would like to date you, Damian.” Raven stared at Damian, who just pulled his hand away from her cheek and straightened his posture as he looked away.
“Your memory isn’t like what it was Raven, I think it’s too early to say that.” His response wasn’t something she enjoyed but Raven pressed her lips together and did not push him.
She didn’t recall her love for Garfield at the moment and assuming she would choose Damian when she does recall, would be too much of wishful thinking on Damian’s part.
~.~.~.~.~
The sun was setting and the white room was filled with an orange hue from the setting sun outside. Raven and Damian had just arrived from walking outside. This time around she was able to stay outside longer without having flashbacks of the night she got stabbed. It was great progress. But she always held Damian as if he was the only remaining lifeboat in an open, turbulent ocean.
Damian and Raven were continuing a pleasant conversation they had outside in her bedroom, when suddenly the door opened.
“Raven!” Garfield came in with such a relieved look on his face, his eyes expectant as he searched for her. Damian and Raven’s happy conversation grew stale as they turned their head to the door.
“Raven!” He called out again when his eyes landed on her but Raven remained in place. “Of course, you wouldn’t tell me she is awake!” Garfield added with a glare to Damian, whose head was casted down.
“Tsk, Greyson.” He muttered, Greyson right behind Garfield but was hidden from Damian’s line of sight. Despite Damian’s head casted down, he took note of Raven’s reaction.
She was still, she stood in place, but Damian could tell, she was so close to running to Garfield and hugging him. And all Damian could do was squeeze his eyes shut, as he inhaled softly while clenching his fists.
Seeing Garfield, Raven felt like her soul from inside her was vibrating with excitement. And yet, at the same time it felt as though a thin layer of frost blanketed her entire body, and it was enough to render her frozen. Despite her deep desire to hug Garfield, her feet were so heavily planted on the floor, that she didn’t even move an inch. Her breathing was shallow and unhurriedly soft, and she just focused on that.
The days had passed so pleasantly after Raven woke up that Damian had thought that he had a place in her heart. But seeing her like this, he knew—Garfield still outweighs him.
“Get out.” Raven said, to which Damian snapped his head to Raven’s direction, who had simply turned her back and walked to the window. “All of you.”
Damian wanted to say something, his fists curling and uncurling by his sides, but he saw her stiff figure with crossed arms as she stubbornly looked outside. He was the last to leave.
He came back a few hours later, to see Raven sitting by the windowsill looking outside.
“He hasn’t left has he?” She whispered hoarsely not looking at who entered. Damian shook his head as he replied, even though she would not see it.
“His downstairs, hoping you’d at least see him.” He got no response, but she tilted her head.
“I didn’t see him leave.” She muttered vacantly.
“I’m here to convince you to eat dinner.” And Raven turned to look at him, a frown on her face.
“Okay,” She sighed. “But you are eating with me.”
Damian was startled at hearing this, a second passed before the words sunk in.
“Alright.” He blinked at her.
“Here.” She added and he told her that he would be back, as he left for a moment to get them their dinner.
When he arrived with food, they sat on a pub table that was added a little after Raven woke up. It could only sit two people, and it was made of some nice honey brown wood. The cushions of the chair are red and its frame is made of the same wood as the table. It was rather small for two people, but they made do.
Raven was vacantly playing with her food while Damian observed her with a frown. He had not yet scolded her for not eating, as he was giving her just a little more time.
With a sigh she 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.” Damian just listened as she said her piece.
The two were enveloped in a tranquility that evidently belonged to them, and them alone. They felt secured in each other’s presence and there was no response needed.
~.~.~.~.~
It took Raven three days to be able to even meet Garfield. The sun was setting, and from Raven’s window, one could see Raven talking with Garfield. They were sitting on a bench facing the sunset, their backs facing the window in Raven’s room.
So, it was a given that the two did not see Damian observing them from the window. He did not look upset nor joyful with the scene he was seeing. But once Garfield placed a hand on Raven’s hand, and she tilted her head a bit towards Garfield, you could see Damian’s face slowly turn into unpleasantness.
When the minutes passed, and Garfield nor Raven had not pulled away from one another, his face contorted to wanting to storm out from Raven’s room to standing still and just holding his breath—just hoping and wishing—that she had not chosen Garfield.
But the minutes continued to pass, and Garfield’s hand continued to rest on Raven’s hand. And Raven glanced at him with a smile forming on her lips. And Damian couldn’t help but think that despite Raven having difficulties in leaving the building with him, if it was Garfield with her—of course it would be easier for her to be outside with him– with Garfield.
And Raven started closing in on the space between her and Garfield, and Damian did not want to see that. So, he turned around quickly, and he stood with his back against them, as he flexed his fists, and sighed. He had hurried to see her; he had gone through the garage so he was unable to see them in the yard. Once he got into her room, and she wasn’t there, Damian absentmindedly walked to the window. That was when he saw her and Garfield together on a bench, looking like lovers.
He wondered how long he stood by the window looking at them. He closed his eyes and sighed again, by the end of the day it was never him. He walked to the door without looking back.
A few days later, Raven is pacing her room anxiously. She had not seen Damian in days, she worried he saw her and Garfield the other day and that was why he was nowhere to be seen. But she wanted to explain to him what he had seen wasn’t what he thought. She had to tell him.
And she could feel the panic go up onto her throat. She sat on her bed, facing the door. She had refused to step out of her room after she talked to Garfield—not without Damian. She could not find the strength to go out of her room after her chat with Garfield.
Raven buried her hands on her face as the tears started to stream from her eyes. All she could see under her closed eyes, was the time—that night, when she reached out for Damian. The pain when that black spike hit her sternum.
She recalled her desire to be with Damian, but right now she felt it so very intensely that she was afraid. She was so afraid that she had lost that chance. And the door opened, and in an instant she was up on her feet with wide eyes. Seeing that it was Damian, she sobbed as she ran towards Damian and tackled him with a hug.
He was startled and it took a moment for him to realize that she was hugging him so tightly. He gently returned her hug.
“I thought you wouldn’t come back. I was so scared.” She wept on the nook of his shoulder, her feet not even touching the floor.
“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He replied softly, and tightened his hold on her as he set her down a bit so that she could touch the floor. They stood like that for a moment.
Raven eventually pulled away and tried to collect her bearings. She wiped her tears and looked at Damian in the eyes. On the other hand, he was wishing she hadn’t pulled away– maybe that was the only time he could hold her like that. And she reached for his hands and it felt so right.
“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.” She looked down on their feet. “And I found myself outside—with him.” There was guilt in her face and on the tone of her voice. And Damian honestly did not want to hear what she had to say next. But she held his hands tighter, making him decide to just keep quiet. A small smile formed on her lips as tears fell and splatter on the floor.
“I forgot the time I was injured, till the time before he held my hands. It felt like I could breathe again.” Damian’s right eye twitched, he wondered what was her point. She suddenly flicked her head to look at him, and he was startled.
“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.” But she was greeted with silence. “I want you. I want to be with you.” She softly added, her confidence fading.
“I don’t mind.” He said so softly, but Raven didn’t hear it.
“If that is an issue for you, then I completely understand.” She continued on.
“I don’t mind.” He repeated.
“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 squeezed her eyes, her tone ready to break in a sob.
“Raven, I want to be with you.” He cupped her cheek and tilted her head towards him. She looked at him with the slightest hint of distrust. “I’ve always wanted to be with you—I waited for you.” He said, being able to say those words felt like such a relief to Damian. And the tears started falling from Raven’s eyes as the distrust was washed away.
“I almost gave up, I admit that.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her anymore. She cupped both of his cheeks.
“If I were in your place, even I would waver.” She told him, trying to catch his dodging eyes. When she finally was able to lock her eyes with his, she added. “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 of 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.”
He slowly nodded, and when Raven’s eyes registered the nod, he couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. But she looked like she was going to cry out of happiness and disbelieve. This time she has chosen him.
“I never thought this day would happen.” He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, and a soft smile formed on her lips. And they shared the moment in silence. After a while, Damian talks.
“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 took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips, and he conservatively kissed back to which she deepened the kiss. And she pulled away recalling Damian’s inexperience last time.
“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.” She leaned her forehead against his, eyes locked with one another. Damian’s eyes flickered with surprise and the confirmation that she chose him that night, made his eyes soften with the acknowledgement. He caressed her face with his thumb.
“I finally caught up to you.” He whispered, a giggle bubbling up on the base of Raven’s throat.
~.~.~.~.~
A few months later, the white sterile room was no longer white nor empty. Raven had flipped the room with Damian’s help and approval. Its walls were now a soft lilac color. The room’s furniture was either accented with white, glass or silver metals. And the ceiling was littered with little crystals, that once the lights were off, would illuminate like stars in different colors. The medical bed swapped for a king sized bed. Her sheets were navy blue and white.
“Raven, are you ready?” Damian’s voice came from outside her open door. She turned in her white fitted dress with the thinnest spaghetti straps. Her long hair that passed her waist was tied into a fishtail braid.
“Of course!” She replied happily, as she ran towards the door, and tackled Damian with a hug and giggled.
“Excited for our brunch?” He teased.
“Absolutely!” She replied without missing a second.
Later that night they were in her bedroom. Damian sat on her bed and she was kneeling over his lap. Raven’s hair slowly unravelling from its braid. Their lips have been intertwined with one another for minutes now. He had one hand on her waist and the other on her thigh, a bit too afraid to rest it on her bum. While her hands were on his neck and on his chest.
Raven broke off the kiss, and started kissing his neck.
“If we’re going too fast, you can tell me.” She muttered in between kisses. But when she did not hear any response, she pulled away to look at him.
“I know Garfield and I had a lot of firsts together, if that bothers you…” Damian broke away from his dazed state and looked at her questioningly.
“I admit, at first it did,” His eyes followed his hand as it traveled from her thigh to her waist which he caressed. “Thinking of how he knows how to please you…” He looked back at her conflicted eyes. “But that just means I have to learn how to please you my way. You two were together for so long—it would be a given that I’m not your first. That is alright. But you are mine.” He admitted a small blush on his face. And she smiled as she kissed his eye and trailed kisses to his jawline. He was being brought back to his dazed state.
“I feel honored.” She whispered in between her kisses. And she playfully bit his ear after. Damian was startled and grabbed her butt and she gasped.
“Then I will take the lead then.” She whispered alluringly by his ear, as her hands travelled under his shirt. Her braid was completely undone at this point, soft black wavy waist length hair cascading down her head.
FIN.
Bonus Scene:
Garfield and Raven were outside on the yard and they had been talking for hours that the sun had finally begun to set.
“You know, when I woke up, I couldn’t find myself to walk out of my room. Eventually, I was able to overcome it. But I found that it was so difficult to step outside the villa. All I could see was that night and being stabbed, and the last person I saw.” Raven confessed and Garfield placed a hand on hers to comfort her.
“But Damian was there, he guided me and stayed with me as we walked outside.” A small smile on her lips. “I always held him like I was in open water and he was the lifeboat. I was afraid of losing him. I mean, I still am. I still hold him so tightly, because I’m afraid that it would be my last chance with him. I thought I was going to die that night, Gar.”
“But when you offered your hand and held me, after you said you knew of my condition—my fear outside.” She glanced at the open area. “I forgot how afraid I was of going outside. It was like my fears these few months were nothing but a phantom. You were always associated with love and happy memories for me. But you and I both know, Gar, we were imperfect. We were destructive. We had become unhappy together for a very long time.” And she glanced at him fully.
“I want to say goodbye.” She finally said, and Garfield looked at her gently as Raven extended her arms to hug him. “I want to start a new romance—with Damian.” She whispered as they embraced one another.
“I wish you two happiness.” Garfield said as he pulled away.
“Yes, thank you.” She looked back at Damian’s villa. “I was so afraid I would lose him, I still do now, it’s why I always hold him tightly whenever we go outside.” She looked back at the sunset that was facing them.
“I held on because of him—I’m sure it was him, I could feel his hand and hear him every now and then, until all I knew was his presence.” She mumbled mostly to herself.
Alternate (timeline) Ending:
Damian was asleep on the table, and had woken up with a jolt, all teary eyed.
“Damian, what’s wrong?” Raven said as she approached the table.
“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied. And he tells her what happened in his dream.
“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied as Raven sat down beside him. She gently places a hand on his, as she smiles softly.
“Damian, that did happen.” She replied unhurriedly.
Summary:When Sizhui, Jingyi, and Zizhen are captured with Jin Ling at the Guanyin Temple, they’re sure that Hanguang Jun and Wei Wuxian will fix everything - until Su She stabs Lan Wangji through the stomach, and everything falls apart around them. In a last, frantic attempt to undo the damage Jin Guangyao has done, Wei Wuxian activates a deadly array to send the four juniors back in time, sending them to the morning of Jin Ling’s one-month celebration. With the fate of everyone and everything they love in their hands, Sizhui, Jin Ling, Zizhen and Jingyi race to prevent the ambush at Qiongqi Pass and the subsequent fallout, but Jin Guangyao has returned from the future as well, and he has no intention of letting what he wants fall through his hands a second time.
My comments: Okay, wow, this was so epic, it’s hard to break down. The gist of it is that the four juniors get sent back in time from a moment of utter tragedy and overwhelming loss to fix the future. So they’re all pretty fucking traumatized from the get-go. (Future Jin Guangyao is a complete and terrifying psychopath.)
If I had to pick 3 tags to describe the story it’d be WHUMP, H/C and BONDING. So, author doesn’t hold back on the violence, which I fully endorse and devour. (I might have rated this one an M, actually, just for graphic violence and stressful situations.)Everyone gets a turn to be utterly beat up if not straight up tortured. POV is multiple, and that includes everyone (I never expected to admire and empathize with Jin Zixuan so much!). BUT, before you run away screaming, know that there is soooo much comfort and healing and bonding going on, throughout whatever the current trauma is (there are many) as well as after. I did a quick search, and there are 102 uses of “I love you”, and it’s not limited to wangxian. wwx says it to jiang cheng and a-yuan and all the poor time-travelling teens who have just lost everything and everyone in their entire worlds and suddenly are only a few years younger than their ‘fathers’. The juniors say it to each other and their dads. jyl says it to everyone. the lan bros say it, the nie brothers say it. Everybody is just so fucking supportive and trying so hard and they just have faced what a world could be like if they DON’T communicate, and so by god, they’re not gonna go that route, and also, no one’s gonna let them forget it.
I really, really loved how all the time travelers latched onto their 'parents’ and the relationships that they grew: with them, with their families and with their itty bitty counterparts. It highlighted the Juniors’ innocence (and trauma) to be compared to people only a few years older and yet so much more mature and experienced because of having been through the war.
So. An epic, plotty, TASTY time travel fix it that features everyone and the way they all fit into each other’s lives, getting into situations that are truly terrifying that have NO EXIT, being hurt and watching it happen to people you love, and lots of escapes-by-the-skin-of-their-teeth-and-please-god-are-they-still-breathing. It’s an excellent and satisfying balance.
time travel, fix it, angst, whump, captivity, hostage situations, threat of torture, hurt everybody, temporary character death, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, tearjerker, feels, you will cry, self-sacrifice, POV multiple, adorable juniors, traumatized juniors, adorable a-yuan, qiongqi path ambush canon divergence, family feels, future reveal, jin zixuan lives, jiang yanli lives, wen remnants live, golden core reveal, found family, jiang sibling feels, pining, idiots in love, love confessions, first kiss, cuddling & snuggling, platonic cuddling, qi deviation, golden core surgery, baby golden core, wei wuxian is a good dad, lan wangji is a good dad, communication, nightmares, PTSD, panic attacks, wedding, adoption, cynophobia, wei wuxian’s fear of dogs, puppy therapy, healing, recovery, fix it, epic, parent-child relationship, father-son relationship, happy ending, favorite
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Summary:Lan Sizhui meets a servant on a night hunt at Mo Manor. Though this servant has a rather plain-looking, forgettable face, Lan Sizhui quickly learns why one should never judge a book by its cover. –or– After being resurrected by the rather plain-looking, gap-toothed Li Wenxiao, Wei Wuxian has to contend with constant dismissals of his skill and intelligence. Luckily for him, Hanguang-Jun is willing to stand by his side no matter what. If only Wei Wuxian could figure out why…
My comments: ❤️This was written for my art-prompt and I love it SO. MUCH. The idea of wwx resurrecting as a homely woman has haunted me for years, because there’s such fertile ground there to explore. And Eudoxia did it with verve. This fic has everything: unexpectedly-female wwx, humor, adorable juniors, utterly smitten and thirsty lwj, philosophy on gender, shameless wangxian…. And more coming up in the series! (Which is great, because I cannot get enough!)
Excerpt 1:“So polite, Lan-gongzi. This one is called Li Wenxiao. Just call me whatever, I don’t mind. In fact, most people I meet call me gongzi or xiansheng, on account of my face!” She laughs, pointing a finger at her bright smile.
Lan Sizhui frowns, studying her face for a moment. It’s a very plain, boring face; round cheeks, a bit of a second chin when she smiles, thick eyebrows, peach blossom eyes. There’s a small but noticeable gap between her two front teeth when she smiles. Overall, a rather forgettable face. Lan Sizhui can’t help but think it’s a little tragic that a young woman—perhaps only ten years his senior—would be unlucky enough to have such a face.
Excerpt 2:Lan Jingyi grabs his arm, shaking him as he hisses, “What do you mean you don’t know? Look at how familiar they are! Hanguang-jun is guiding Li Wenxiao’s donkey! He may as well be,”—Lan Jingyi struggles for words, waving his arms in the air like he’s juggling, before he finally says—“caressing her face! I don’t know! Who isshe?”
canon divergence, resurrected as a girl, wei wuxian comes back as a girl, POV multiple, female wei wuxian, adorable juniors, teacher wei wuxian, (not officially but he is SUCH a teacher), lan sizhui is the best boy, gender and philosophy, oblivious wei wuxian, genderqueer wei wuxian, shameless lan wangji, demisexual lan wangji, some very light and well-earned lan xichen bashing, light angst, thirsty lan wangji, pining, love confessions, getting together, idiots in love, doting lan wangji, het smut, favorite, @eudoxiav @mdzsrbb
Summary:When Jiang Yanli joins Jiang Cheng in visiting Wei Wuxian at the Burial Grounds, the two brothers are on the verge of cutting ties forever — until Jiang Yanli has a better idea. Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to leave the sect. He needs to get married, and she has the perfect Sect Leader in mind.
When Lan Wangji is invited to come along on Wei Wuxian’s visit to the Unclean Realm to spend time with his new betrothed, Nie Mingjue, he agrees — even though his heart is breaking. How else is he ever going to see Wei Wuxian again?
When Nie Mingjue welcomes Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into his home, he realizes two things very quickly: 1.) They clearly want each other so badly they can barely stand it, and 2.) Nie Mingjue is Into That.
(In which arranged marriage to Nie Mingjue solves just about everyone’s problems)
My comments: Aahhh, this was a ship I never realized I needed in my life, but here we are. Author does it so well: in the context of the story, not only is it robust and believable, but it’s honest and loving and fun for all three of them. And if, in the process, the course of canon is changed such that everyone lives and the world is a brighter, happier place, than so be it. (Of course, there’s some angst and intrigue and machinations to get through first, but that’s requisite seasoning, imho.)
(Seriously. I’m very jealous and protective of my OTP wangxian, so it has to be a pretty special story if I’m willing and happy to share them with someone else. However, remember that your mileage may vary.)
canon divergence, OT3, niewangxian, raiarranged marriage, angst, pining, jealousy, but only briefly, POV multiple, courting, nie mingjue just says I’ll marry both of ‘em, flirting, golden core reveal, first kiss, first time, top nie mingjue, bottom wei wuxian, poor lan wangji has to wait a few months, fix it, domestic, friends to lovers, polyamory, fluff, xiyao, sect politics, jiggy being morally gray, sooo much threesome smut, light dom/sub, dom nie mingjue, dom lan wangji, sub wei wuxian, nie sect qi deviation issues, tenderness, joy, everybody lives, jin guangyao redemption, he’s a really interesting character, wen qing doing all the arcane and impossible medical procedures, happy ending, epic, podfic available, @giraffeter
(You may wish to REBLOG as a signal boost for this author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
Summary: You thought he didn’t see you. That’s just when he started to notice you.
Notes: fem!Reader, shy!kind!Reader, Fluff, like a smidge of angst, happy ending
You weren’t quite sure when it started… or why. It was your hyper-awareness for the one and only Bakugou Katsuki. He was, at first glance, just an overconfident jerk who couldn’t control his temper. But, that wasn’t truly him. Or at least you thought so.
He was kind. Not in the conventional kind of way— nothing about him was conventional. But you watched as he would leave a cup of coffee in the morning for Kaminari, claiming he had made too much. Or how he would place a blanket over Mina when she fell asleep in the common room. Or how he would stay up late just to play video games with Kirishima and Sero, even though he just complained the whole time.
Each little action just proved to you that he was different from what others thought.
Not only was he kind, but he was funny. You loved the little nicknames he gave everyone, laughing every time they came from his mouth. You never interacted with Bakugou, so sadly you didn’t have one. You often wondered what it would be.
And don’t forget that he was attractive! You couldn’t understand how people forgot this little fact. Yes he had a temper, but goddamn was he was fine. His soft blond spikes, his volcanic red eyes, and his taunt yet lean muscles. Everything just screamed ‘Greek God’ right at you.
Still, you knew he would never really see you. You might as well as have Hagakure’s quirk. You were quiet, always keeping to yourself. Quite like Todoroki, in a way. Although you smiled more, always trying to make each class member feel worthy of themselves. Some called you the “class therapist” which you thought was hilarious. It was derived from the fact that you always listened to what your comrades had to say, letting them rant about their problems and often giving reassuring advice.
“Stop! You’re going to make me have to have a therapy session with (Y/L/N)-chan.” Kaminari pouted from across the common room. You were observing Bakugou, as usual, hiding behind a thick book and a wool blanket on the couch. You knew that it would probably be seen as creepy, but you didn’t think it was like that. It was kind of like reading a book, how you spectate over the character and the story, becoming apart of the adventure— whether you were in the book or not.
Your head popped up at the mention at your name, having spaced out. It was a bad habit of your’s.
“Who the fuck is that?” Bakugou yelled, smacking the back of the electric boy’s head. A small huff of amusement escaped you. You knew he didn’t see you.
“Dude! She’s right there.” Kaminari hissed, digging an elbow into Bakugou’s side. Vermillion eyes darted to yours, and your heart skipped a beat. A soft smile adorned your face as you gave him a gentle wave. A small blush brushed over your cheekbones, not liking being the center of attention. You glanced back down at your book, curling your fingers tightly around the edges.
“See! She’s cute, right?” Denki shouted excitedly, quickly followed by an ‘oof’ noise. You assumed that he got punched.
~~~~
You pulled your hand back under the roof, pouting lightly. It was raining… and it didn’t seem that it was going to stop very soon.
It was the end of the school day and class had ended a couple of hours ago. You were scouring the library shelves for a new book, staying longer that you intended. And now you were stuck here, unless you wanted to get soaked getting to the dorms.
You decided to walk around a bit, exploring the empty halls of the school. Wandering aimlessly, you had found that the school had a swimming pool, an anime club, and even an indoor tennis court. You peered out the window and huffed. It was still pouring.
Sighing, you peeked your head into another door, looking for a nice place to curl up and read your newest book. Your breath caught in your throat as your froze in the frame of the double doors. A massive gym greeted you, as well as one completely unaware Bakugou Katsuki.
The explosive blond was going to town on a worn punching bag, drops of sweat rolling down his tanned neck. You watched in some sort of flustered awe as the muscles of his arms tensed and contracted while his eyebrows furrowed in determination. This boy was truly gorgeous.
Not wanting to be caught, you slowly took a step back, yet squeaked as your hip bumped the frame of the door. As if that wasn’t enough, two of the theee book you had clutched to your chest slipped from your grasp, thudding loudly against the floor.
You dropped to your knees immediately— hoping, praying that by some miracle Bakugou hadn’t heard you. Maybe his music was loud enough…
“What the fuck are you doing here?” A sudden shout rang out, causing your head to snap up.
“Oh… hi, Bakugou-kun.” You stated shyly from your spot on the floor. You refused to look at him, keeping your eyes solely on the books you had just gathered. Bakugou fell silent, and you used that opportunity to get back to your feet.
You glanced back up to him, a light blush on your face. You weren’t the only one. Bakugou’s face had a slight flush— his hand gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly, right over his chest.
“Um, I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to bother you. I was, uh, just wandering around, because— you know, the rain, and….” You rambled on, gesturing softly towards the windows. A grunt of understanding interrupted you, making you look back at the blond. The blond that you had a crush on.
“You don’t have an umbrella.” Bakugou stated, staring out towards the pouring rain. He ran a hand through his hair roughly, turning away to hide the heat in his cheeks.
You watched in confusion as Bakugou ruffled though a plain black duffel bag.
“Catch.”
You yelped as you shot a hand towards the flying object, hoping not to drop it.
It was a little red umbrella. Your heart skipped a beat.
“But what about you?” You looked up in concern, keeping eye contact for the first time since your meeting. You didn’t want Bakugou to be out in the rain, especially if he could catch a cold.
“I’ll be fine.” He answered gruffly, placing his earbuds back where they belong. You sighed, knowing that it wasn’t up for debate.
“Thank you.” You whispered with a red face and a pounding heart, even though you knew he wouldn’t hear you.
~~~
Something felt off.
Since the moment you stepped into that classroom, it felt like you were being watched. It wasn’t uncomfortable— or anything like that… just… off. You shrugged it off as you just being crazy.
You had left the umbrella at Bakugou’s door last night, as well as a little ‘thank you’ note. You hoped the hearts weren’t too much.
Pulling a book out on your desk, you jumped into your latest story. It was about a prince of magic, lost in a pre-quirk Earth. The prince had just landed when a small nudge to your shoulder startled you.
Your eyes were quick to find Yaoyorozu and Hagakure in front of you, small giggles errupting from the latter.
“Oh, hello girls!” You smiled, not at all displeased from being pulled from your book. You brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, curious of the sudden interruption.
“Don’t look now, (Y/L/N)-chan, but—”
“Bakugou has been staring at you for the past ten minutes!” Hagakure squealed, interupping Yaoyorozu.
“I just wanted to warn you, in case you did something to make him mad—”
“Momo-Chan! Are you blind? Those are eyes of love!” Hagakure sang. You watched in confusion as the two continued to argue, wondering what in the world they were talking about.
Your eyes drifted over to the said blond, freezing as a vermillion stare immediately pinned you down. The girls were correct— you were being stared at. Bakugou’s eyes were shamelessly boring into your’s, making a deep flush crawl up your neck. He didn’t look angry perhaps— but confused, calculating. What threw you off, however, was the light blush kissing the top of his tanned cheeks.
Your eyes immediately flashed back down to your book, heart beating a million miles per minute. What was going on? Oh, how you wished your quirk was telepathy.
“I’m telling you! It’s looooovvve!”
~~~
A light breeze ruffled your jacket, making you pull it closer to your body. It was a Saturday evening, and you were just grateful for the break in training. Aizawa-sensei had been tougher than usual, and you were sure your muscles were about to give out.
You decided that a light walk around the town would be nice, reveling in the perfectly cool weather. A slight rumble emitted from your stomach, making you let out a small laugh. A small stop wouldn’t hurt.
Aoki’s. You heard of that place! It was Bakugou’s favorite place to get spicy curry. You distinctly remember, because it was one of your first times truly seeing him. Your only thought at the time was ‘of course Bakugou likes spicy food.’
Still, your mind had cataloged that moment, and here you were walking straight up to the counter.
Walking out with two spicy curries in hand (one with extra peppers), your brain hit a snag. You had ordered Bakugou some without even thinking about it. How would you give it to him? You weren’t even considered friends. What if he already ate? Would he think you were stalking him?
These meddling thoughts brought you all the way back to the dorm, still devoid of any solution. It’s not like you never surprised your friends with little gifts. Just last week you had given Midoriya a little All Might keychain. But this was different. Bakugou was your crush. Plus, you only spoke to him once!
At this point, you were thinking of just throwing the extra box in the fridge, maybe put a note with his name on it. Sighing, you opened the door, a sour expression on your face. It sucked having social anxiety.
“Hey, (Y/L/N)-chan!”
You yelped at the sudden greeting, confronted with a cheeky Ashido.
“Oh, hello.” You smiled, a bit surprised.
“Whatcha doing?” Mina questioned, dragging you in by your free arm. You yelped at the sudden tug, being pulled all the way over to the pair of couches in the common room.
“Ah, well— nothing important. Do you need anything, Ashido-chan?” You stuttered as you were dragged along. Mina had always been a bit…. enthusiastic, but you didn’t mind.
“Well, we were wondering—” Mina gestured over to the seats, and that’s when you took notice of your classmates. “—if you’ll hang out with us?”
The Bakusquad were all spread out, snack and sodas littered amongst the floor. You heart skipped a beat as you caught sight of the object of your affections grumbling angrliy to Kaminari.
“I’d—”
“Can’t your raccoon eyes see that she was going to eat?” Bakugou suddenly cut you off, glaring hastily at the girl beside you. You watched in confusion as Kirishima and Sero shared knowing looks.
“Ah, it’s okay, Bakugou-kun! Well… I— mean, unless you don’t want me to, then I—”
“OI, WHEN THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT?” The blond sneered, avoiding eye contact with you. You looked down at your shoes, a small smile engraved on your lips. He was such a tsundere.
“Oooo, (Y/N)-chan! Is that two takeout boxes? You don’t have a secret boyfriend, do you?” Sero drew out mischievously. You watched in confusion as Bakugou suddenly tensed.
“Wha— no I don’t!” You vigorously denied, a deep blush on your face.
“Oh, she so does!” Kaminari yelled, throwing an elbow into Bakugou’s side. “Who is it? Tokoyami? Ojiro?”
“Oh, maybe Todoroki?” Mina chimed in. You sputtered noncoherently, desperately trying to clear up the misunderstanding. One, it was embarrassing. Two, you didn’t see your classmates (besides Bakugou) that way. Three, you didn’t want your crush to be thinking that you already had a significant other.
“Hey guys, I don’t think it’s very manly to—”
“Midoriya?” Sero yelled, adding to the chaos. You were feverently throwing your hands around, desperately trying to get them to stop. Also, you didn’t think Bakugou liked how loud they were being, judging by the silent, murderous glare.
“Ah shit, it must a girlfriend then!” Kaminari exclaimed, eliciting a laugh from the other three of the squad.
“No! It’s for Bakugou!” You suddenly exclaimed, tired of their teasing. The room immediately went silent as your word vomit sunk in. Crap.
If your face wasn’t on fire before… it was now.
“…What?”
The question came from the blond himself, his eyebrows up to his hairline. You shyly pulled the box marked ‘extra peppers’ out, sliding it gently across the coffee table.
“I, uh, saw Aoki’s, and I know it’s your favorite, and spicy curry is your favorite— always with extra peppers— with a side of rice,” You were talking and you couldn’t stop. Everything you said just stared to sound worse and worse— plainly laying your infactuation out in the open for all to see. “So, I got you some— but you don’t have to eat it! I should have asked— sorry.”
You reached to grab the box back, but it was snatched away before you could. Your eyes immediately flashed up to vermillion ones, surprised when you noted the flush along Bakugou’s tanned skin.
“Did I say I didn’t want it?” He scoffed, face a dark red.
“No.” You said softly, looking down at your fumbling fingers.
“Then I’ll take it!”
~~~
It’s been about a week since the little curry inscident, but no one said anything. You were suddenly so glad for your smart, yet extremely dense classmates. Or well, you hoped so. Everyday, scarlet eyes bore holes into your back… and everyday, your heart would beat a little faster.
Not only that, but the Bakusquad hung around you a lot more than usual. You were friends with about everyone in the class, but you weren’t really close with that friend group. For some ever reason, they decided to change that.
You walked down the halls, bag clutched in hand. Mina had told you that Kirishima had wanted to talk to you in the classroom. You weren’t sure what for, but you’d always listen if someone needed an ear. Her and Sero’s mischievous giggles were a little off putting, to be honest.
“Come on, dude! Just admit it! You are so whipped!” You heard a familiar cheery voice yell.
“Yeah, man! Confessing would be so manly! I can see it now.” Another person said, followed by a dramatic sniffle. You were hella confused now. Mina said Kirishima needed to talk to you? And now there was Kirishima, Kaminari, and another person.
“FUCK NO!” Oh, so the other person was Bakugou.
Wait… was Bakugou going to confess to someone?
You felt your heart immediately shatter, pulling your bag up to your chest. So he did have someone he liked. You could only bet how amazing they were. They would have to be the best. As soon as your crush had developed, you knew that your heart would end up in two. This was Bakugou you’re talking about. He was only focused on being number one. And if there was an off chance he developed a crush, it would have to be someone absolutely incredible.
Someone who wasn’t you.
Still, you forced a smile. You weren’t going to hold him back. You never would.
“Come on, man! I’m tired of see you googling (Y/L/N)-chan and grumbling about her all the time. Just ask her out already!”
You froze. The person Bakugou liked… was you?
Your face suddenly lit up, your heart beating faster than it ever had before.
Bakugou liked you.
Bakugoulikedyou.
Bakugou liked you.
Your face was million different shades of red, your fingers curled tight around your bag. What do you say? What do you do? Do you just… walk in there? Confess?
“SHUT UP, DUNCE-FACE! Even if I did confess— WHICH I WON’T, she wouldn’t even like me anyways….. she is her, and I’m, well, me.” Bakugou trailed off. Your heart broke. Never once had you ever heard Bakugou sound so… defeated. He sounded so unsure of himself. You hated it.
“Aw man, don’t be like that. We’re sure (Y/L/N)-chan likes you.” Kirishima said soothingly. You heard Bakugou scoff.
“Ah, the beast fell in love with the beauty. Poor (Y/L/N).” You heard Kaminari say, followed by a loud smack. “Dude! That hurt!”
You couldn’t help the small giggle that erupted from your lips. You loved your friends and their crazy antics.
Crap.
The three within the classroom went silent, having definitely heard your giggle. You yelped as the door was suddenly pulled open to reveal a smirking Kirishima, a smug-looking Kaminari, and an absolutely furious Bakugou Katsuki.
Your face burned at the sudden reveal, but you gave a gentle wave anyway.
“Well, we’re just gonna head out…” Kaminari trailed off, giving you a wink as he squeezed past you. Kirishima followed him, flashing you a blinding smile and a thumbs up. This left you all alone… with your crush… that likes you back.
“Hello, Bakugou-kun.” You mumbled shyly, eyes locked on his. His entire face was red and he kept clenching his fists over and over again. He was no doubt planning the murders of his friends for their little set-up.
“How long… How long were you just fucking standing there?” Bakugou snarled, doing everything to avoid eye-contact. Of course he had chosen to become angry. It was easier for him, than the molten embarrassment— that was no doubt bubbling in his chest.
You pulled at the strings of your bag, suddenly feeling embarrassed for him. “Um… since you started talking about your crush.”
“Of fucking course.” He growled, running a shaky hand threw his hair. “Of fucking course you heard it all… Look, just forget that shit, okay? I won’t be fucking weird or anything to you.”
You frowned and put your bag down, slowly walking up to him. He had his eyes on the floor, not seeing you approach.
“Hey…” You mumbled as you placed gentle hands on his cheeks. He jumped at the sudden sensation, his vermillion eyes darting to yours.
“Wha—”
“I like you, Bakugou. A lot. I have for awhile now.” You weren’t exactly sure why, but you felt confident. Maybe because you knew he liked you back, or maybe it was because he just seemed so shy in the moment. Whatever it was, you were grateful for it.
“You… you like me?” A small smile bloomed on the boy’s face, and your heart stuttered. You had never seen such a look on Bakugou’s face. It was gorgeous. “You like me!” He laughed.
Muscled arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, picking you up. You yelped at the suddenly lift, but it soon turned into a large laugh. Bakugou began spinning you around, a large crooked smile on his face.
“She fucking likes me!” He kept chanting as he twirled you around. You placed your hands lightly on the nape of his neck, smiling as you looked down at his face. Bakugou slowed to a stop, and gently lowered you back to the ground.
“You like me.” He grinned, all toothy and crooked. It was perfect.
“Yeah, I do.” You smiled, hands unmoving from his neck. Bakugou placed large hands on your waist, making sure to hold you flush against his chest.
“Of course you fucking do, I’m amazing.” He snorted.
You laughed at the sudden change of tone, looking deep into his entrancing, vermillion eyes. You gently curled your fingers into the soft blond at the nape of his neck, smiling brightly.
“You know seeing you, [hero], tied up like this is a change of pace I’d love to get used to”
Villain purred, running a finger gently underneath hero’s chin, making them turn their head aggressively away as much as they wanted to get more of it.
“In your fucking dreams, asshole”
Hero barked, turning their head to glare hatefully at villain. Villain only continued to smile, their eyes going up and down on the sight of hero on their knees, panting with a glare that looks more hooded, a need rather than the intended masked hatred.
“I’d watch your tone around me [hero], as lovely as you are - your words and actions do have consequences”
Being flatmates with Malfoy was nothing like Harry expected. They were friends already, so the soft conversations over tea at three in the morning were no surprise, and neither was the grumbling over coffee not enough hours later. The quips, and Malfoy’s smell on every jumper he owned, the excessive eye-rolls and funny little squeals of excitement, all of that was familiar enough. Things he could handle. It was when he went to the kitchen one morning to find the cupboards chock-full of the biscuits he liked, that he raised an eyebrow. (“What? They were on sale” his arse.)
There was more. When he came back from Ron’s stag do to discover his bedsheets changed and his room tidied (“Merlin’s sake, I just had some free time” is apparently an explanation?). The following week, when Harry had been complaining, and suddenly the busiest black barber in town just happened to have a free appointment. (“I suppose you do get lucky after all” – yeah, not really.)
It didn’t end there. Harry’s bed was always made (“It’s called magic, look it up”) and his shirts were always ironed (“Can’t have you looking like that in front of Mother”) and his glasses always cleaned (“Just say ta and shut up, Potter”). Harry had no idea what it all meant. If it was some sort of delayed guilt reaction, or Malfoy’s way of self-fulfillment, or worse, self-punishment. Or if it was nothing at all, meant nothing. The most devastating part was how deeply ingrained Malfoy had already made himself in Harry’s life—how much he already needed him, wanted him, cared for him. Was driven absolutely mental by him—
It took a random encounter and two hours online before Harry understood the term ‘love language’. By that evening he’d cleaned up the flat, washed and hung all of Malfoy’s clothes, and restocked the fridge full of his fancy oat drink.
Then messed up the perfectly-starched bedsheets in Malfoy’s room by lying in them, bare to his boxers with his heart rampant in his throat—but when Malfoy got back from work, he didn’t seem to care. He kissed him just as fervently as he’d washed the dishes the day before: deeply, full of intent.
Being flatmates with Malfoy wasn’t quite what Harry expected; this went so wildly beyond what he could ever have hoped for. Love language, then. He couldn’t wait to become fluent.
Being flatmates with Malfoy was nothing like Harry expected. They were friends already, so the soft conversations over tea at three in the morning were no surprise, and neither was the grumbling over coffee not enough hours later. The quips, and Malfoy’s smell on every jumper he owned, the excessive eye-rolls and funny little squeals of excitement, all of that was familiar enough. Things he could handle. It was when he went to the kitchen one morning to find the cupboards chock-full of the biscuits he liked, that he raised an eyebrow. (“What? They were on sale” his arse.)
There was more. When he came back from Ron’s stag do to discover his bedsheets changed and his room tidied (“Merlin’s sake, I just had some free time” is apparently an explanation?). The following week, when Harry had been complaining, and suddenly the busiest black barber in town just happened to have a free appointment. (“I suppose you do get lucky after all” – yeah, not really.)
It didn’t end there. Harry’s bed was always made (“It’s called magic, look it up”) and his shirts were always ironed (“Can’t have you looking like that in front of Mother”) and his glasses always cleaned (“Just say ta and shut up, Potter”). Harry had no idea what it all meant. If it was some sort of delayed guilt reaction, or Malfoy’s way of self-fulfillment, or worse, self-punishment. Or if it was nothing at all, meant nothing. The most devastating part was how deeply ingrained Malfoy had already made himself in Harry’s life—how much he already needed him, wanted him, cared for him. Was driven absolutely mental by him—
It took a random encounter and two hours online before Harry understood the term ‘love language’. By that evening he’d cleaned up the flat, washed and hung all of Malfoy’s clothes, and restocked the fridge full of his fancy oat drink.
Then messed up the perfectly-starched bedsheets in Malfoy’s room by lying in them, bare to his boxers with his heart rampant in his throat—but when Malfoy got back from work, he didn’t seem to care. He kissed him just as fervently as he’d washed the dishes the day before: deeply, full of intent.
Being flatmates with Malfoy wasn’t quite what Harry expected; this went so wildly beyond what he could ever have hoped for. Love language, then. He couldn’t wait to become fluent.
you are my escape my saviour from this nonsense world i see your face i forget about the pain i hear your laugh i forget about my fear i feel your touch i forget about my unaccepting mother
The fallout of the cult of Grimm-worshippers finding a Crater full of liquid Grimm and some insight into just who the leader of this group is. (Also Velvet being iconic in the background and some cute moments thrown in)
In all pasts and presents and futures and other lives: Sherlock loves John, even when John does not love him back.
Oh wow. Some fanfics are more like gorgeous pieces of tangibly visible artwork than simple writings. This would be one such pieces of work. But don’t be fooled by its immense beauty. It’s a tragic piece. The best way I can describe it is if you take a shard of glass, jam it into your chest, and just make a rough incision across your sternum. Because that’s what I feel like at this moment. Sherlock comes back to find John doesn’t remember him, but this is not like other fics with amnesia. I’ll say no more on that and instead move on to the writing itself, because that is what makes this fic utterly unique. It’s written from Sherlock’s perspective, giving a look into his mind as he comes to terms with what has happened. It makes the reader see everything through his eyes and feel right alongside him and it hurts. There are vivid descriptions of his inner thoughts, ones that only Sherlock would have and wouldn’t be terrifying, because it’s Sherlock. His emotions are as raw and as jagged as the wound left into your chest. Definitely one for super angst lovers and fans of jellyfish. A special thanks to Rachel for the suggestion. A warning of brief sexual content and mentions of gore.
Sherlock Masturbates the night before John’s wedding.
Now don’t get too excited, this may be about masturbation but you’re not going to feel much like masturbating after this one! This was good, I truly felt the shame and regret rolling off Sherlock here. It made sense that Sherlock would have a background where he felt sex and masturbation was a dirty, shameful thing. I think it fits in well with the shows characterization but doesn’t get tropey. I love love love the addition of Irene and Mary in this (no spoilers) which is a very rare thing to find in a Johnlock fic but fits Sherlock so well. Obviously this work is explicit, however I wouldn’t describe it as raunchy. If very intense sexual themes aren’t for you, you may still like this one. This isn’t a happy story, it’s pretty sad and lonely to be honest, but if you have a weak spot for pining Sherlock you’ll hate to love it.
Sherlock spends exactly nineteen seconds zoned out after John asks him to be best man. He retreats to his mind palace in the desperate hope of figuring out what he wants, unfortunately for him his mind palace is full of people who keep trying to give him advice.
I haven’t read fanfic in a very long time (as our lack of updates suggests) but a link to this was on my dash and I thought ‘what the hell’, expecting to close out of it right away (no offense, that’s just my relationship with fanfic these days) and it’s honestly really good. Like because of this I might actually start to read fic again, I know I’ll check out this author’s other works. The characterization, pacing, and expressions are spot on. It’s engaging and humorous, but pulls on your heart strings as well. This story exists only in Sherlock’s mind palace, and it’s amazing how the different elements from the show and the author combined. This is exactly how I want Sherlock’s mind palace to be, especially with the memories. Honestly well done, this is a great fic for people who love unrequited love fics and pining Sherlock!
If you’ve followed me since Multiverse of Madness hit the big screen, then you’ll know I’ve developed quite a passion for the Stephen Strange Variants. Defender Strange is my favorite, and he’s lodged himself in my noggin, demanding to be fic’d. I finally came up with a concept, and I have no idea if I’ll continue, but please indulge my little flight of fancy—won’t you?
summary: You had a hard day of training, honing your fighting skills, as you have finally been placed on permanent rotation to assist the Sorcerer Supreme himself, in his constant battles to keep Earth and our Universe safe from merciless Evil. You admire Stephen Strange, and set him as a high example of the sort of Sorcerer you hope to someday become—while you heart harbors a secret, unfulfillable crush. This evening, you’ve proceeded to the sauna, to help you relax and work out the knots and muscle strain from the training session you subjected your self to. You are gobsmacked to find yourself in the company of Strange himself, seeking the same sort of relief.
rating: general audience (except for one naughty word)
word count:2.5k
A long, intense session of hand-to-hand combat training had pushed you nearly to your physical limit, but evening brought the chance for some much-needed relief. You had headed directly to the red cedar sauna at the far end of the compound, knowing that the heat and steam would be the best balm for the muscle strain and exhaustion that seemed to infuse every cell of you body. Grateful to find you had the place to yourself, you doused the coals—enchanted to burn continuously with no need for replacement—with water enough to swiftly fill the narrow room with a cloud of steam, and then took a seat on one of the lower benches that lined the walls.
You bowed your head, kneading the back of your neck a bit, while ruminating on the trials that lay before you, as you were nearing the tests that would at last determine if you were finally qualified to earn the rank of Master. You felt confident and well-prepared—and surprisingly happy in the vocation that you had stumbled upon in the wake of the sudden loss of the future you had planned with your late fiancé. Though your heart would forever mourn him and the hopes that you had shared, it now seemed to you that Fate itself had guided your course to Kamar-Taj for the healing of your forlorn soul and the repurposing of your life.
Your training in the Mystic Arts had gifted you with heightened awareness and keener senses. A whisper of cool air prickled across your skin, telling you the curtain separating the sauna room from the antechamber had been silently pushed aside. The slight creak of the floorboards confirmed that someone had joined you. You felt a powerful yet restrained presence loom over you—and looked up to meet the unwavering gaze of the man upon whom you heart now secretly rested. Stephen Strange.
Stephen Strange, bare-chested, and scantily clad as was appropriate for the setting. The strong breadth of his shoulders—always obvious, even beneath the several layers of his usual tunic and robes—took your breath away. You could hear you pulse pound in your brain, from a mix of surprise and unquenchable desire.
“Ah, Scientist! How’s experiment number 387 doing?” - the villain asked, strolling into the lab. Said scientist jumped in surprise before turning to their boss.
“V-Villain, sir! Uh- Everything’s going smoothly so far.” - Scientist replied, checking something on their tablet as Villain walked over to the giant tube in the middle of the room.
The criminal ran their hand down the glass, admiring the creature growing inside it. “Marvelous~. Once this beauty is finished, we’ll be unstoppable.”
There was a long pause as the villain basked. It was a good bask. They were having fun. Until the scientist cleared their throat nervously.
The villain sighed. “What?”
Their scientist wrung their hands nervously. “Well, uh. I know it might be above my pay grade but uh…”
“Spit it out, Scientist!” Villain pulled a potato chip from their jacket pocket and bit in. “I pay you to think, let’s hear those thoughts.”
“You, uh,” the scientist stammered, staring at the villain’s snack, “technically don’t pay me. But that’s not the point! You do keep saying things like we’ll be unstoppable and all shall bow before me, and I would remiss not to point out we have no idea what kind of traits or personality we’re going to get when our chimera decants.”
“An excellent point!” The villain crammed in another potato chip, chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Two questions then. One, what do you know about animal handling? And two, what do you mean I’m not paying you?”
“You, uh, technically kidnapped me?” the scientist said with a nervous laugh, hugging their tablet to their chest. “But I have been doing some reading in zoology and aquarium journals-”
“Great initiative. Now shut up,” interrupted the villain, looking less amused, more confused. “I kidnapped you?”
“Well, yeah.” The scientist looked a little hurt. “The International Biochem conference in Berlin? I was presenting a paper, it wasn’t going well. But then you - you suddenly stormed the stage yelling that I was a genius and my talents were wasted on them and then you, um,” the scientist blushed bright red, “you sorta tossed me over your shoulder and you had these kinda rocket powered skates-”
“Mm.” The villain nodded thoughtfully. “The Jet Set Rockets, yes. This is ringing a bell. Go on.”
“And then you brought me here. But no big deal!” the scientist hurriedly said. “Everyone just sort of forgot I was a prisoner after a few days. I was able to go home, pack my stuff, let the landlord know I was breaking my lease because I’d been kidnapped. But to get back to Beastica -”
"Beastica?”
“Oh, sorry! I mean…” The scientist ducked their head, running a hand gently along the glass. “That’s just what I’ve been calling her in my head. I didn’t mean to presume.”
“Beastica,” the villain hummed. They placed their hand next to the scientist’s on the glass. “I dig it.”
“Oh wow,” the scientist breathed. “But, uh, I am short on cash and some of that zoology literature is behind paywall, so can I get that expensed? Subscription to the Annual Review of Animal Biosciences and the Journal of Experimental Biology should do it.”
“Sure, sure! Tell Accounting Deirdre I authorized it and she’ll order it for you. Now.” The villain grabbed the tablet out of the scientist’s hand and flung it away.
“Hey!” the scientist yelped - and then shut up as the villain advanced on them, eyes glinting with intent.
“We need to sort this out,” the criminal purred, backing the scientist across the lab. “You can’t be ‘kinda’ kidnapped. That effects things, like your PTO accrual and whether you get invited to the holiday party.“ The scientist gasped as they hit the wall. The villain was there in a flash, hands bracketing them against the cement. "So what’ll it be, genius?” they grinned, running a finger down the scientist’s lab coat lapel. “Are you kidnapped, or do you maybe kinda wanna be here?”
“Oh, um…” the scientist stammered, eyes perfectly round aa they watched villain’s hand trace across their chest. “I mean, maybe… I don’t know! Can’t we do something in the middle?”
“Independent contractor! Got it!” The villain abruptly stepped back and started tapping things into their phone. “Go tell HR Deirdre you need a W9. That’s a good choice,” the villain went on, with a sly glass up through their lashes. “I have a strict no fraternization policy with my employees, but I don’t see any reason I can’t throw a contractor over my shoulder every now and again. If they ask nicely.”
“Okay,” whispered the scientist again, melting slowly into a puddle.
The criminal gave them a wink and handed them a pretzel stick from their shirt pocket. “I wanna see that behavioral plan by Thursday! Keep up the good work and you shall be rewarded in my day of victory!”
“Will do, sir,” the scientist whispered and hurried back to building their villain the world’s most beautiful marauding monster.
