Imagine:
Helping Stella
Request: Yes or No
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
CW/TW: Typical Winx warnings, mentions/implied abusive parent(s)
I couldn't for the life of me find a second gif that could fit lmao
~~~
There was an insistent pounding in her temple, coupled with the prickling, stinging pain spreading across her back. Stella could hardly see her reflection through the pools of tears in her eyes, only the muddled blur of her golden hair and the stark, crimson red against her skin. Fresh and dried blood caked her fingers, smearing further against her back and hand each time she lost her grip on the gem.
It was futile, she realized in horror fairly quickly. The angle would never allow her to get a firm grip without making her arm ache or fingers slip, and the claws of the gem were dug too far into the muscle of her back for her to do it alone. She couldn't let anyone see her like this, no matter how close she'd gotten to her roommates since Bloom's arrival.
A sob tore through her throat, echoing softly in the small dressing room. She couldn't risk being caught in the bathroom or her dorm room, and she wasn't sure how she'd ever explain why the gem had been embedded in her to begin with.
It was humiliating, and would be humiliating for her family if word got out that their daughter was so rebellious they had to take such extreme measures. Salty tears ran down the apples of her cheeks, and her nose crinkled in a wince each time her shoulders shook with the sobs and hiccups.
Stella wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never come back out. She wanted to run into Sky's arms and find safety in them, as she once had, but he barely spoke to her most days, with all his attention and affections consumed by Bloom. Pathetically, in some corners of her mind, she wanted her mother. Stupid, childish hope that the day would come when her mother would extend a comforting hand toward her and speak soft, gentle comforts.
"You shouldn't mess with it."
Stella shrieked and then groaned lowly, the flinch that vibrated through her body only making the throbbing pain in her back worse. She squeezed her eyes shut and took long, deep breaths until the pain became manageable, before she opened them and spun around on the stool to face the figure lingering in the dressing room's doorway. (Y/N) stared back at her, his face neutral, devoid of its usual condescending smirk that always made her blood boil when they crossed paths.
Stella's face burned with embarrassment. Her mother's teachings echoed in her head, reminding her to never ever allow herself to be perceived as weak. There was no use hiding it now. Not with his eyes floating down the trail of blood dripping down her back and soaking into her bra. She'd bet good money Rosalind or Beatrix told him all about it, too. Her eyes narrowed.
"Why do you care? Shouldn't you be off doing Rosalind's dirty work or getting your ass kissed by Beatrix?" She questioned with a sneer, though she knew she was hardly intimidating with her flushed cheeks, runny nose, and trembling hands. She didn't have to take a glance in the mirror to know she looked like a downright mess.
(Y/N) rolled his eyes and kicked the door shut behind him, reaching around to lock it and making Stella's gut jump with unease. "You say that like she's my girlfriend. She's not." His eyes jumped away then, the corner of his mouth twitching and uttering the unspoken word for him. They weren't together anymore.
"I'd hope so," Stella muttered, reaching for the Kleenex box on the vanity to dab at her nose with the last of her fleeting grace. "She spent half her time here sticking her tongue down Riven's throat. I know she's a bitch, but I don't take her for a cheater."
"She's a lot of things." (Y/N) exhaled quietly, longingly, and pointedly avoided looking at her in favor of studying the cluttered dressing room. "And contrary to what you and your friends believe, she and I aren't heartless monsters incapable of feeling things." His head cocked to the side, his half-grin almost mocking when he finally met her eyes. "For example, I feel a whole lot of pity for you right now."
"Go to hell." Stella huffed, too exhausted to conjure up one of her witty, ego-crushing comebacks. Her icy blue eyes dropped onto the floor, and she uncomfortably watched the shadows shift as if they were reaching for him, as if they were alive. "What do you even want, (Y/N)? Do you absorb power through misery or something, too?"
"I wish." He laughed, sharp and humorless, and twisted his wrist around until a smoky tendril extended from her shadow to wrap around his hand. "That'd be a nifty ability to have."
Stella rolled her eyes this time, her lip curling up in distaste and her head lifting to ensure her feeling was conveyed. (Y/N)'s lips pursed in contemplation, his chest rising and falling with a heavy exhale before he thumbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it.
Stella's eyes widened, and she quickly looked away, a biting remark about the ordeal forming on her tongue until she noticed him twist around to show off his back. Her gaze jumped up to the reflection, a gasp getting stuck in her throat at the sight of the lapis blue gem in his back just over his right shoulder.
Her head whirled around, her hair momentarily smacking against her face from the swift movement, before she shot up from the stool and nearly knocked it over. Tentatively, she lifted her hand, her fingers still faintly tremoring as she touched the cool gem and traced it with her fingertip. There were scars, faded and new, littered around the gem, as if he'd taken a blade to it in a fruitless effort to be rid of it. Her fingers traced them, too, but (Y/N) shoved his shirt back down before she could continue.
"I'm starting to think carving it out is the only way to get it off." He told her, a hint of defeat in his tone.
"Why would Rosalind do that to you?" Stella asked, feeling breathless and horrified at the possibility of having to take a knife to her own flesh just to get the gem out. "Aren't you basically her son? Her- Her most trusted little minion?"
"I'm sure you've noticed, but I have a real talent for getting under people's skin." (Y/N) raised his brows, playful but in a dulled way. His hands cupped her elbows, the feeling sending goosebumps up Stella's arms from the unexpected coldness of them, before he spun her around and forced her to sit back down. "She knew my parents. They were former students of hers, and they died when a plan of hers went sideways. I guess she feels responsible for me, but I'm too... me, for her liking. The gem limits my abilities, and if I go too far from her, she knows, somehow."
(Y/N) tugged a few tissues free and dragged one of the folded-up chairs over, plopping down on it and folding the napkin over his finger so he could begin wiping the blood along her back. "I was raised some miles from here, as far as the gem will let me go. She says my abilities are too chaotic. That they could ruin things if she doesn't keep a good eye on them. I think she's just paranoid she won't be able to keep me on a leash forever."
Stella fiddled with her fingers, her thumb running over the drying blood on her hands. "Is that why you do everything she says? Because.. Because you have to?" She felt guilty, all of a sudden, for all the insults and harsh whispers she'd exchanged with the others behind his back after his arrival.
"I don't really have a life outside of Rosalind." (Y/N) shrugged casually. "She makes such a fuss over what I can do, and then ignores me for some chick with common fire powers who can barely control them without throwing a tantrum."
Her brows furrowed. "Are you jealous of Bloom?" She stifled a laugh.
(Y/N) clicked his tongue. "Funny, considering I hear you hated her guts for stealing your boyfriend right from under your nose."
"Sky and I were already broken up, actually. She didn't steal anything from me." Stella turned her head to peer at him over her shoulder, but he grabbed her jaw and turned her head forward again.. She swatted lightly at his wrist. "Saying she stole Sky is like saying Riven stole Beatrix."
"What is your obsession with me and Bea?" (Y/N) tossed the bloodied tissue paper into the small trash can tucked beneath the vanity and folded another over his finger, this time using his abilities to lift the water jug meant for bottle refills between practices and getting it wet in order to clean off the blood that'd dried.
"She acts like a kicked puppy whenever you ignore her and mopes after every single conversation you two have. I have eyes, (Y/N). I can spot a fizzled romance from a mile away."
(Y/N)'s mouth curled into a smirk. "I never realized how intently you watch me, Stells."
Her face warmed. "Don't call me that."
"Whatever you want, Your Highness."
