there’s a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that this is an entirely bad idea. who is he, however, to challenge the will of grown-ups? (he is someone to challenge the will of grown-ups, especially with so much in the balance. he doesn’t know why he’s doing this.)
he moves quickly enough, a shadow around the corners of her vision. he shouldn’t be doing this. raven sits at her desk, reading something, and he prays to himself that she doesn’t attack him on sigh. he wouldn’t blame her-- he’s in the tower!-- but also, he would appreciate not being toasted. for his supposed dedication to stealth, he breaks it rather unceremoniously by tapping her on the shoulder, and then steps away quickly, out of arm’s reach.
she’d been in her head too long. it’d started to pull her in, convince her that the things around her were twisted, wrong.
apparently, only something twisted and wrong looked right. it makes sense, really, that someone who hears whispers, prayers, shouts and screams would be able to reach into raven’s mind and rip away the one that was unwelcome.
the titans didn’t understand, didn’t know what to do when raven hadn’t been responsive, hadn’t listened to them and panicked when they stepped too close. when dio showed up, unprompted and uncalled, they all gasped and cried out when dio lifted her into their arms and disappeared entirely.
her thrashing and aimless throwing of magic only lasted for a few moments, as dio did their work and murmured in a language that can only be described as wind blowing, leaves rustling and river water flowing into her ear.
‘ raven, ‘ her name’s almost a soft command, an even quieter plea. they know how vehemently she doesn’t want them reaching into her mind at any point in time, how badly it terrifies her. they don’t want to keep having to. ‘ c’mon, raven. ‘
the shuttered breath that sets a monsoon of shaking limbs is felt in dio’s entire body, as well as her own, as they sit in a smooth motion, gathering raven more fully into their arms, not saying a word while she shivers.
‘ it wasn’t real. ‘ it never helps, hearing it. they know it. they know, more than she does. but the reminder needs to be said.
‘ it was real for me. ‘
‘ i know. ‘ they shift her in their arms, tucking her face against their neck and leaning their head against hers. ‘ it’s not real anymore. i’m real. we’re real. focus on that. it helps, sometimes. ‘
she doesn’t say anything. they both know that there’s very little that helps but hard liquor, drugs, or any other negative actions. but for now, she has to make do. dio doesn’t say anything, or even think about the fact that they know, in this moment, what raven needs is what dio’s already provided. won’t say anything about part of what raven needed was dio.
i. maybe it’s cruel dio spends time alone with her. maybe it’s because they both know that the will - they - won’t - they game is rapidly coming to an end. or maybe it’s because raven doesn’t know entirely what dio is, to the fullest degree. she’s seen them maim, kill, but only vaguely, when it was to defend her, when she was dying. she’s never seen the animal that kills for fun.
she will, eventually. then she’ll have to make a number of choices that’ll only weigh her shoulders.
maybe it’s unfair, not showing her what dio is, what dio can be. but dionysus isn’t the god of fairness. madness doesn’t care if something’s fair.
the kiss that dio allows to happen isn’t fair, either. raven takes the risk, when they’re silently standing across from each other in one of dio’s kitchens, holding mugs of tea.
she steps forward, searching their eyes for several seconds, and when she finds only a feline ease, she kisses him.
it only lasts a few moments, a kind of kiss that says neither of us know if this is supposed to happen, but it’s happening until it stops.
dio, draining their mug, comes to the conclusion that it’s not fair. it doesn’t change anything.
ii. most nights, dio sleeps in terra’s room, a different kind of cat for whatever their mood is. spending time with terra in general is simpler. the trauma that still bleeds within her is soothed by madness, no, dio, no, madness, no —- and that trauma keeps the unkind part of their mind at ease. an easy give and take, made even easier than other friendships people have because whenever one of them tackles the other, it’s not an offense.
some nights, they sleep in raven’s room.
they’re asleep long before raven arrives, sprawled out in a straight line with a blanket unevenly covering them. it’s obvious from the mess of blankets and sheets that dio didn’t fall asleep like that, and hasn’t slept in one spot.
they don’t wake up when raven freezes in her doorway. they don’t wake up when she changes quietly, hiding as best as she can behind her closet door, even though it’s unnecessary. they don’t wake when she carefully sets one knee on the bed, watching dio closely.
they don’t even stir when she moves the blankets around them, lifts and smooths them only slightly, adjusting them before slowly (agonizingly, for her – dio stays asleep) settling next to them, looking at a temporary face for a long minute before leaving a kiss to the side of their head. they both sleep deeply, silently through the night, spines pressed together and breathing synced together.
iii. ‘ this isn’t a negotiation. ‘
‘ what’s wrong with my clothes? ‘
‘ you cannot keep wearing the same seven leotards. you guys aren’t seven anymore, you have to change clothes. ‘
‘ we change clothes! our uniforms are a different story. ‘
‘ all of you wear your uniforms more than you wear any actual clothing. ‘
well. she can’t argue with that.
‘ my point exactly. ‘
a pile of clothes is thrown at her from the mouth of the closet, raven’s muffled sound of protest and surprise ignored in favor of diving back into the closet that never ends.
‘ what is this? it looks — dio! what the fuck! i am not wearing this! ‘
a head pops out of the closet to look, make a yikes face, and dart over to take said… clothing.
‘ y’know, not everything in my closet is mine, but i think this might be mine. ‘ they hold it up to their current body, which is ridiculously too big to even begin to fit said article.
‘ burn it. ‘
‘ you can burn it. there’s worse, hiding in here, ‘ they’re already bouncing back into the closet, throwing the Thing at raven, who sidesteps it before it hits her, scowling.
‘ here, put this on. ‘
this is a long black sweater that is light enough to still wear with the hot weather. a black, cropped t-shirt is followed, a pair of leggings, and dio accompanies the simple pair of sneakers of the same color.
raven stares at the clothes for several seconds before she concedes, sighing while she takes the clothes, falling into step with dio as they go back into the closet.
‘ i told you i was good at this. ‘
‘ shut up. ‘
a laugh echoes in the large room before dio presses a kiss to her cheek, scampering off to find more clothes for her.
iv. they know raven’s having a nightmare, even with the tower silent. none of the others are awake, and dio shot up from the chair they’d fallen asleep in upon hearing sounds of distress that came from her room.
‘ raven. raven. ‘ they’re one of the few people who could grab her by the shoulders and shake her awake without getting injured in any way. their eyes are hard when hers finally snap open, wide, wild and terrified.
the tears that fill her eyes immediately after are something even fewer have seen.
when raven starts whimpering, small, pathetic and terrified sounds, she’s wrapped up in warm limbs and madness, pulling the anxiety and fear from her with physical contact and quiet breathing. she shakes violently for only a minute, falling still when dio presses their lips to her forehead, a shuddering exhale indicating the end of her panic.
‘ please don’t leave. ‘
‘ i won’t. ‘
this time, at least.
v. it’s not a good night. the kind of darkness that makes streetlamps inefficient, suffocating any light, pushing against anything that isn’t a dark, deep black.
dionysus practically glows. this is their time. this is prime hunting. this is the time of night parents warn children about, the time that curfew is strictly enforced. it’s never been because of what trouble could be stirred up in the dark of the night, what crimes someone might be able to get away with.
oh, no. curfew is set for the youth to be safely set aside while monsters like dionysus are on the prowl.
even darker beings like raven aren’t safe. someone should have told her to stay home. to stay away. to not follow the path that she knows will lead her to dionysus.
there’s blood on their hands. running their tongue against the back of their hand to remove some of it while tasting it. something else – maybe liquor, with a touch of glass that catches on their sleeve as dio wipes the rest of their mouth on the back of their sleeve.
raven does the worst possible thing one can do when faced with an animal. a monster. something not good. she freezes.
they stare at each other several seconds before dio moves.
blood stained hands lift her off the ground to push her against the nearest wall, a wide grin on their face as they look down at her. bodies pressed together, neither of them breathing steadily, dionysus gives her several moments to decide if she wants to pull away, leaning purposefully slowly closer to her, waiting.
she doesn’t move.
a laugh spills into her mouth as dio smashes their mouth against hers. her gasp is devoured instantly, lifting her against the wall by her knees, higher, higher until she’s bent over to keep her mouth on theirs, holding dio’s cheeks in her hands, raven doesn’t seem to notice that dio’s hands still have blood on them, that they’re leaving drying hand prints on her legs, her thighs, her waist.
the alcohol that was on dio’s tongue and lips transfers into her mouth, a touch of metal and vodka mixing into the kiss.
all teeth and bruising lips, it’d be obvious to anyone, ( maybe even the two involved, but they’re both caught in it to be fully aware of what’s occurring outside of the kiss ) that this isn’t a kind exchange, that whoever began this isn’t a kind lover. lover might even be a stretch.
in many ways, it’s a promise. a promise that if, when, raven crosses a certain line, this is what she’ll be tangling with.
it’s only later, when raven’s alone in her bathroom, that she realizes she’s been marked with blood, that her swollen mouth has a touch of red to it that isn’t from any natural causes.
