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#Cass is loud on purpose
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*thundering steps*
Tim: uhhhh
Cass Cain: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Tim: No No No No. Go away Go away.
Cass: hehehehe
*slap*
Cass, slinking away: :)
Tim: whyyyyy.
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letoasai · 1 month
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Will work for food ~part 3
Part 2 ~ Master Post
Tim was beyond irritated. He could have been on a date. Okay, he wasn’t sure if they were dates but they could have been. Damn it. He’d continued to summon Phantom weekly and they’d gone to lunch every time. Pizza. Barbecue. An amazing ramen place. They went to a music festival and visited all the food vendors. 
Things had been going smoothly. He’d been learning more about the Infinite Realm and about Danny himself and was having a great time despite his meddling siblings trying to butt in at every turn. Dick was a repeat offender but Duke, Cass and even Damien had all attempted to ambush him. It was lucky Danny thought it was hilarious and helped Tim avoid them. 
The last two weeks had been a disaster though. He’d had a four day mission with his own team, and had to deal with his friends poking fun at him while trying not to get shot at. Superboy had vastly exaggerated his interaction with Danny to the others! 
By the time he’d gotten back to Gotham, he’d had a small backlog of cases to get through. It was really cutting into both his CEO work and his freaking lunches with a really cute guy who just so happened to be an immortal king of a realm. 
Just when he thought he’d have a little time in the next day or two, Scarecrow was back on his bullshit with his fear toxins. Hadn’t they just done this recently? How had he gotten out of Arkham so fast? 
Tim was woozy, having taken a breath of the toxins and gotten a swift injury to his leg in the process. He’d say it was luck that he already had an antidote on him to fear toxins, but they all carried one with them at all times. He wasn’t freaking out but he could have done without the lightheadedness. It always briefly had him wondering if he’d gotten a concussion, but it was just a side effect. Usually. 
“You good, babybird?” He heard Nightwings voice through comms. He probably thought he was whispering and had no idea how loud he actually was because of the chaos of the night. 
“Never better.” He grumbled, trying to shake off a chill while limping. There was no one around to see at the moment so it was fine. “I’m headed your way.” 
“Good, Scarecrows around here somewhere. Slippery nut job.” Nightwing said. 
“Pay attention.” Batman’s voice ran through their comms. “He divided us on purpose. This isn’t his usual pattern.” 
There was grumbling across the line, everyone having figured that out already but B wouldn’t be B if he didn’t state the obvious for them some nights. 
Tim grappled from one street to the next, hearing sirens far enough in the distance that they couldn’t have been for this. When he landed safely, he pressed his palms to his masked eyes. The throbbing in his head was so annoying, but the jack hammering of his heart was…something he probably shouldn’t ignore but he was. 
“Not a concussion, Red.” He muttered to himself. “Just a stupid sore leg and Scarecrow’s stupid toxins filtering out.” There was always the option that it was a new strain and his antidote didn’t work as well but he wasn’t hallucinating his worst fears so maybe not. 
Trying to shake off his limp, Tim wandered across a nearly empty parking lot. There were a few abandoned cars, most of them missing their tires and on blocks. He kept an ear out, listening for anything that didn’t belong but it was Gotham, and even in the dead of night there were noises. Traffic, generators, air conditioners, nocturnal animals. There was always ambient noise, the key was ignoring the background hums and focusing on the shuffling goons. The problem he was having now however, was the faint ringing in his ears. 
“Red?” Nightwing's voice drifted across comms again. “I don’t see you yet. Something happen?” 
“No i’m…” Tim swallowed, suddenly parched and feeling overall…bad. He tilted his head back to check his surroundings and realized he’d gone the wrong way. How disoriented was he? “Okay, i might not be okay.” 
“Red Robin?” Batman’s voice was calm but urgent. “Do you need backup.” 
Tim almost stumbled but caught himself. “I feel like shit. I think there was something new in the toxins my antidote didn’t take care of.” 
“Oh, how wonderful. You figured it out so quickly.” 
Tim tensed, whirling around to face Scarecrow. Tim hated to think he’d been snuck up on but the rogue was sitting on one of the ripped apart cars in the lot. 
“I’m coming to you!” Nightwing said firmly. “On my way!” 
Tim waved Scarecrow’s words away cockily and only just noticed the way he trembled. “You’re losing your touch. Not a single, horrifying hallucination.” 
The rogue just chuckled. “Oh no, tonight’s a bit of a tester. Something a little different.” 
“That right?” Fuck. 
“Oh indeed, you don't mind being a guinea pig, do you? This particular batch didn’t have the hallucinogens, no. What it is doing is creeping through your system, forcing your body to activate all too real symptoms of fear.” 
“Seems a little corny for you.” Tim said, knowing the others were listening carefully. 
“And you're shaking.” Scarecrow’s huge grin grew broader. “What else, little bird? Over heating? Or are you freezing? Heart pounding? Knees weak? Feeling a fresh wave of tears building? Do let me know. It’s for science.” 
Tim tsked. He wasn’t about to cry but his throat was tight. It was almost like he was having trouble taking in a breath. 
“Somehow, a gas that makes people sick is so much less impressive than your normal routine.” Tim said, his trembling getting worse, but he was positive he was being tracked by at least some of the others. He just had to stall until Nightwing got there. “A couple of phantom pains the best you could come up with?” 
That wasn’t his best quip but Scarecrow took the bait anyway. “Oh no, it’s very real. Your body might not know why it’s so panicked, but it’s pulling out all the stops. Who knows, maybe your heart could just stop.” 
The problem with a lot of Gotham rogues, was the fact that they were actually intelligent people. The man likely could have gone on and on, but he jumped up and moved onto the offensive. He had a pitchfork tonight, and no one could say the man was original. 
“Now just stay still!” 
Tim dodged, the pitchfork surprisingly leaving quite the hole in the concrete. It should have been a simple dance and disarm kind of fight, but Tim’s shaking just got worse, and his stomach started to hurt, and his heart really was trying to beat out of his chest. It really was like he was terrified, the chills of his body making him sweat. 
“No ever actually stays still when someone’s running at them like a lunatic.” Tim said, but the words were almost hard to get out. He wasn’t choking but his throat was so clogged. 
The sass cost him though, and he was hit in his already wounded leg. It sent him rolling across the parking lot and Scarecrow just laughed. 
“Oh, what fun. It’s a shame though, i really miss the screaming of my patients visually seeing their worst nightmare, i’ll have to combine them.” 
Tim legs nearly gave out from under him when he tried to get up. Injury and the damn shaking leaving him unstable. He’d had to stay crouching, pulling out his staff to dig into the ground in front of him to hold himself up. 
“Regardless of my fears, you’re not one of them.” Tim wheezed, wondering if the hallucinogens were actually kicking in when a mist appeared. It was a frigid kind of cold that left ice crystals on all nearby metals. 
“Oh, we’ll see, little bird. I have plenty for your entire family. In fact, i’d love to see what a second dose would do to you.”
“Nearly there.” Batman said, but there was a hiss to his tone that said he knew it wasn’t going to be a timely arrival. 
“This isn’t good…” Tim whispered, watching Scarecrow pull out a small canister, and he was too wobbling to put more distance between them.
With a laugh, Scarecrow hurled it towards him. “Don’t be afraid to inhale!” 
Tim jerked back using his bo-staff as a crutch to give him some kind of momentum but he watched as the canister exploded midair and…something was strange. The cloud of chemicals had been clear for one second before disappearing. There was no time to worry about how quickly it could have been caught on a breeze when even Scarecrow himself looked confused. 
“So fear is your niche.” 
Tim shuddered, eyes going wide as his head jerked towards the sound of the voice. The gentle reverb of the words slicing through him. His solace was that the ire he heard wasn’t directed at him.
Danny was there. Well, King Phantom was there, having appeared out of thin air. It was the first time Tim had seen that form in a while but his friend was just as hauntingly ethereal as Tim remembered. 
He dropped the canister, and Tim had at least a partial answer. Whatever had gone wrong with the toxins had been Phantom’s doing. 
The king stared down at Scarecrow, but Tim couldn’t see his face from where he now sat. “I know a thing or two about fear.” Danny whispered. 
“Impossible.” Scarecrow spat, puffing up like a cat. None of the Gotham rogues liked their plans being disturbed and by a newcomer no less. “What did you do?! Did you inhale my toxins!? Absorb them!? Fool! You’ll be their next victim! You won’t be so relaxed for long! Even Red Robin’s a terrified mess!” 
“Red Robin! Report!” Batman’s voice was firm in his ear. 
“Relaxed?” Phantom mused, deceivingly calm. He’d stiffened, head turning just a little as if checking on Tim, but he never truly took his attention off the rogue. “No, not relaxed. Angry. As delicious as your parlor tricks were, i take offense to finding you hovering like a predator over my friend.” 
He rose into the air a few feet, and only then did Tim realize that he had been standing instead of floating, well, he was floating now. 
Scarecrow just tsked, unaware of the power in front of him. “Meta? Alien? It doesn’t matter. That combination of chemicals-”
“Was delicious.” Danny repeated. 
Tim scooted away, his leg throbbing. “Phantom.” He muttered, finally answering Batman through strangled breaths. “Phantom’s here.”
“Regardless, the offering was not enough to pacify me.” Danny muttered, the black crown over his head spinning. 
Scarecrow actually began laughing, it started with a chuckle but then it grew into something loud and boisterous. “You’re barely more than a child, are you sure you’re ready for this? The hero game is crowded here in Gotham, and you don’t look like any bird or bat i’ve ever seen.” 
Tim watched the way Danny’s hood swayed to the side as he tilted his head. “I am no bird, nor am i a bat.” 
“I’m sure you’ve impressed your little friends with your meta abilities, but it means nothing in a city like this. Though i see you have your talents. How are you unaffected by my toxins?” 
Ice erupted from the ground, enguling Scarecrow’s legs an inch at a time, creeping up his body without a hint of warning. “You misunderstand.” Danny whispered. “I am not here for a conversation. I’m here for my friend, and to teach you that dabbling in fear is childsplay to a being like myself.” 
Tim couldn’t see… Danny was facing away from him but his galaxy cloak billowed out around him without even the slightest breeze. There were shadows…? Something? Tim couldn’t see though he tried. What he could see was Scarecrow, and even with his face covered, his body language betrayed his growing horror. 
“You can not frighten the dead.” Danny said, but in a voice that was decidedly not his own. 
Scarecrow started screaming, a desperate sound that had him thrashing in place, the ice now well around his chest. Tim didn’t know what the rogue was seeing but if scaring someone to death was really a thing… 
“Phantom.” Tim tried to raise his voice and had to close his eyes to shove away the sudden lightheadedness. He was shivering. “W..we good…?” 
Whatever was going on paused, and Danny seemed to reign himself in. The strange movement of his cloak stopped and Tim briefly made a mental note to ask Danny what kind of other forms he might have. 
Danny turned to him, looking normal, though he hadn’t seen his white hair in a while. “I forget sometimes…” He commented, voice even softer than usual. “The living are so fragile.” 
Scarecrow was still screaming, but his head was lulling back and he looked seconds away from passing out. He was held in place by the ice, and obviously wasn’t going anywhere. 
“Yeah, we’re like that.” Tim muttered, shoulders slumping now that the danger was taken care of, it didn’t stop the way his body twitched. His stomach hurt so bad. 
Danny landed by his side silently, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 
“Yeah. Leg’s a little messed up but it’ll heal. The… the toxins in my system are going to have to run their course, unless i can work out how to s..somehow come up with a new antidote before then. St..stupid…” 
Danny cocked his head to the side, wispy white hairs floating around his face. It was unfair how attractive he was. “Want me to eat it?” 
Tim heard a confused “Wut?” from his comm. Spoiler summing up that comment nicely. 
“I can absorb emotion. Because it can sustain us. I just think of it as a different way to eat.” Danny said. Tim breathed a sigh of relief that that half ghost had been around him long enough to know that he liked explanations when he didn’t understand something. 
“That’s w..why the fear toxins didn’t affect you.” 
“Mhmm.” Danny hummed. “Gotta get that recipe though. That was tasty. Frighty would love it. 
Tim sighed, feeling another wave of nausea and he…was pretty sure he was seeing colors he shouldn’t be. “You always leave m…me with more questions than answers. My s..symptoms aren’t emotional. Chem..chemically induced.” And fuck this was so embarrassing in front of the King of the Infinite Realm. 
Danny hummed, and if Tim wasn’t mistaken, he sounded amused. He leaned closer, fingers touching Tim’s face and all at once, he started to feel better. His shaking stopped almost immediately and he was left to assume that despite the chemicals he’d inhaled, Danny was still able to take them from him. Honestly, scientifically it made no sense whatsoever. 
At least his stomach didn’t hurt anymore. 
“What do i owe you for this one?” Tim asked with a weary smile. Other than a sore leg, the other symptoms seemed to disappear. 
“I got two separate fear meals. I’m good.” Danny chuckled, helping Tim to his feet only seconds before Batman and Nightwing arrived. 
Nightwing made a beeline for Tim, grabbing him in the tightest hug while Batman was instead looking Scarecrow over who had, in fact, passed out at some point. 
“Wing, watch it! Watch it! The leg!” 
“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Nightwing clung anyway. He then held a hand out to Danny. “Thank you so so much, your Majesty! Your timing is to die for!” 
Tim knew he was in trouble when Danny took Nightwings hand to shake, and his eyes lit up. “Wing…” Tim said in a warning tone that went unheard. 
“No big deal. Visiting Red Robin really lifts my spirits.” Danny said with a small grin, fangs a little larger than in his living form. 
Nightwing tipped his head back and laughed. “Yes!” 
“No…” Tim groaned, shoving away from his brother. 
“In all seriousness, i’m glad i came.” Danny said. “I wasn’t sure if you were trying to summon me or not so i thought i’d poke my head in and see.” 
“I…didn’t realize i did?” Tim muttered, checking his utility belt. “I do have the spell circle but…” 
Danny shrugged “Well you said ‘Phantom’ at some point. I thought it sounded a little different but well…i didn’t think it would hurt to double check. I’m glad i was able to help.” 
“We appreciate it, your Majesty.” Batman commented in a gruff tone. He very much did not appreciate it but couldn’t be mad about someone saving Tim when he wouldn’t have gotten there in time.“What exactly did you do? This ice is-” 
“Oh, right.” Phantom waved his hand flippantly and the ice disappeared. Scarecrow dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “He’ll probably suffer nightmares for the next week but he’ll shake it off.” 
“I have… so many questions…” Tim repeated. 
Danny just looked at him fondly. “You always do.” 
“I’ll take him in.” Batman said. “Red Robin, return for medical treatment.” 
“I’m fine, B.” Tim said, but he was getting a look. “Grab whatever he has on him so we can make new antidotes.” 
Batman grunted, and it was possibly lucky that the rogue was already knocked out. 
“Hey, hey, King Phantom-” Nightwing began. 
“Just Phantom is fine.” 
Nightwing was positively giddy. “What do you say to four a.m. waffles? I know you ate the fear or whatever but you deserve a proper thank you meal.” 
There was something so boyishly charming about the way Danny smiled. His constellation freckles even seemed to twinkle. “As long as they don’t bite back. I’d like that.” 
“Concerning.” Tim hummed, testing his weight on his leg. It wasn’t broken but he wouldn’t be grappling anywhere else tonight.
“Great!” Nightwing said, tapping his own comm. “Spoiler will meet us there!” 
Danny glanced at Tim. “Do uh.. You go…” He gestured to them. “Dressed like this?” 
“All the time.” 
“Okay then.” Danny said, and the only adjustment he made was to reach up above him and grab his crown. It disappeared from view. 
“So many questions.” Tim heaved a sigh. “I guess breakfast would be nice. We haven’t done breakfast yet.” 
Danny nodded once. “At least i feel like i earned it this time. You’ve just been treating me so much lately.” He sounded as close to shy as Tim had ever heard and it was killing him. 
Ugh, now he was doing the death puns… 
“You don’t have to earn your food with us.” Tim said softly. 
“RR is right, you know?” Nightwing beamed. “You should totally get him to bring you home one night, Phantom. Best home cooking you’ve ever had.” 
Danny hummed, “It’s a low bar, but that could be…nice.” 
“We’ll discuss it over waffles!” Nightwing just…decided. 
Tim shook his head, not sure how he felt about these two getting along but Danny was smiling and Tim was a sucker for those smiles. 
“Alright.” Tim said, stifling a yawn. “My leg is stiff so one of you is gonna have to help me get there, but let’s go eat.” 
Danny’s green eyes just glowed with mirth. “No problem.”
1K notes · View notes
ellievickstar · 2 months
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Pretty Lies
A/N: THIS THOUGHT STRUCK ME AS I THOUGHT OF THE MEME SO LIKE BEAR WITH ME FOR A MOMENT OKAY??? also i gave up valentine week, i want to write a lot does not mean i want to stick to a schedule.
Summary: Cassian has some questions about you and Azzy's relationship, and because you are both very private people you choose not to answer Cassian truthfully, but what will happen when he decides to test your answer out?
Request: Nope.
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Warnings: Fluff. I'm in my soft era okay??? shush. This is set before even Amarantha so somewhere between the first war and the curse.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
Cassian glanced between you and Azriel, both of you had been speaking through the mating bond, thus it was mostly silent. Truth to be told, your bond was quite new and Cassian had not really heard you both interact with each other since you both confessed your love.
"Hey...I have a question," Cassian spoke up, raising his hand slightly. You cocked your head curiously, waving a hand to encourage him to continue.
"Do you guys use pet names?" Glancing at Azriel, he shrugged.
"No," You said simply.
Narrowing his eyes, Cassian internally scoffed. He did not buy it, not for one moment. Azriel may have been the most quiet among the three of them but he knew for a fact that Azriel was probably the most affectionate behind close doors. Azriel cared in a way that was quiet, a way that did not draw attention. The smallest details that hinted to the fact that the shadow singer cared more than he let on.
Cassian nodded to himself, he would reveal your lies and expose them for what they are, this was his true purpose in life.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
His plan commenced during dinner.
Waiting for the proper moment to strike, he suddenly piped up when you and Rhys were deep in conversation, Azriel was listening to Amren closely as she complained about how boring her life was now.
"Hey, Y/N, what do bees make?" Cassian asked slyly. Hesitating for a second, you gazed at him before answering, "Honey?" It was then that Azriel suddenly said, "Yes, Sweetheart?" Mor exploded into laughter, Amren hummed her amusement and Rhys grinned like a wild cat.
Blushing a deep red, you turned your head to hide your face in Azriel's arm, his hand coming up to stroke your hair while your body shook from trying not to laugh, his lips curling up into a smirk.
"I KNEW IT," Cassian screamed, "YOU LIARS TOLD ME YOU DIDN'T USE PET NAMES, HOW COULD YOU LIE TO ME," Wincing at how loud he was, Azriel shot Cassian a pointed glare in which Cassian quieted down, sulking slightly as he dramatically collapsed back in his chair, clutching his chest from 'heartbreak'.
"I'm sorry Cass, but you're not the most...subtle person," You tried. You were trying to not snicker and be kind about it but he gasped louder. "I can be subtle. I am soooo subtle," He rolled his eyes.
"So if I told you I found my mate would you be calm?" Rhys joked. However, Cass's eyes widened at Rhys, his eye balls seemingly almost popping out. "I'M THE LAST ONE LEFT WITHOUT A MATE????"
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
Bonus:
"Never lie to my face every again," Cass whined, chuckling you nodded, Azriel's wing tucking you closer to his side, ready to scoop you up once you were done talking to Cass so you could retire home for the night.
"I promise I will tell you every detail, even how Az-"
"NEVER MIND!"
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
A/N: hope this was fun to read heheheh see y'all next time <3
Azriel taglist: @chessebookgirl (if you guys want to be tagged in any character fics please tell me and I will happily add you <3)
732 notes · View notes
qcomicsy · 1 year
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The Office but it's the Batfamily.
Bernard (To the camera): I think Bruce hates me.
---
Bruce (to the camera): I am very glad Tim, found himself dating someone. I don't think there's someone who would ever be enough to any of my children.
Bruce: But he is happy. So I am happy as well.
---
Bernard, invited over to dinner: That's. . . Um, A very nice mansion you have here sir. Really big. Big enough to hide an secret passage to clones but–
Tim, gesturing to him to shut the fuck up: HAHAHAHA ISN'T HE FUNNY?! (whispering) ᴮᵉʳⁿᵃʳᵈ ᴵ ˢʷᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵈ.
Bernard: WhichI'mnotimplyingyoudoanyway. But– IT'S NICE. Really nice. Thanks for uh inviting. . . Me.
Bruce, glaring: Hn.
---
Bruce (to the camera): Dick told me to make a "chit-chat". Be sure that our guest felt welcomed.
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Bruce (to Bernard): Did you gave it a thought about your internship yet? When I started medical school I had a great interest on how Gotham's Hospital deals with post mortem patients.
Bernard:
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Bruce (to the camera): I tried to find a common ground to make conversation. We both had similar majors, even though I've drop out
Bruce: I'm glad it was enough for a good starter.
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Bernard (to the camera horrified): He wants me dead.
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Dick (to the camera): HOW WOULD I KNOW HE WOULD PULL UP THE SERIAL KILLER TALK??–
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Steph (to the camera): There's something really uncanny in seen it happen to another person.
Steph: And also really fucking funny too.
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Kory (to the camera): The first time I got there I'm pretty sure was the time he made a contingency plan for me.
Kory: Which is cute. He thinking it would work but– Yeah.
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Barbara (to the camera): Me and Dick? Oh he stopped talking to me for several weeks.
Barbara: When he did, he said "You are making a mistake".
Barbara:
Barbara: Don't you hate when he is right?
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Kon (to the camera): I wasn't aloud to enter the house– I when I dated Cass, so–
Kon: Not that stopped me. But it still hurts.
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Cass (to the camera), shrugging: I liked his piercings.
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Bernard: . . . I didn't– Yet. No sir. I'm just, huh. . . Going with the flow?
Bruce: That's unfortunate. It's really important to always have a plan.
Bernard (gulps): You think?
Bruce: Yes. You never know what might happens next.
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Damian (to the camera): It was the best dinner I've ever attended in this house.
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Tim (to the camera): *Loud sight* I don't know what I was expecting.
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Jason (to the camera): Are we really just going to pass on how his boyfriend looks like a knock off Scooby-doo member?
Jason: Like he is rocking a StarStruck haircut– And we just?– Okay.
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Dick (to the camera): I mean it's not like Bruce is doing on purpose right?
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Bruce, grinning to the camera: Hn.
---
Duke (to the camera): Oh he's absolutely doing on purpose.
3K notes · View notes
clockwayswrites · 6 months
Text
Like Betta Fish Do Part 26
WC 1478, Masterpost CW: Canon typical violence, Aftermath of torture
“It’s Danny. They took Danny,” Babs murmured into the comms.
Dick’s heart skipped a beat.
“Basement or subfloor,” she continued, passing the information along to those of them who had been able to slip away in the chaos.
Dick burst out into the roof, still tugging up one of the hidden zippers on his uniform. He flung himself off the roof without hesitation. “I saw Danny twenty ago. They can’t have taken him far.”
“Twelve,” Cass chimed in.
Twelve was even better.
“Oh God, I just saw the timer,” Babs whispered. “We don’t have—”
“Hey, fish,” Jason’s voice came across the line.
Dick almost missed his grapple as he rushed lower to try and see any suspicious vehicles.
“Tim, city power—”
“Working on it,” Tim ground out, cutting Babs off in a way he normally wouldn’t.
“Forty-five seconds!”
“I can’t do it in that! I’m trying—”
A hitched breath. “I do. I'm sorry.”
Then screaming.
The lights flared and then cut out in one of the smaller office buildings crouched in Wayne Enterprises’ shadow.
Dick twisted and flew towards it. Another black shadow joined him in flight.
The comms were painfully quiet and then filled with a burst of chatter. Dick reached up and brushed his off as he landed on top of a cliché white van with a purposeful thump. Before the blue faced goon had even finished turning towards the noise he was unconscious.
Silently, efficiently, Cass and him worked through henchmen, dodging guns and tasers. That had to be how they took Danny. Dick remembered how the other froze up being shocked with his escrima sticks. Remembered how—
Now Danny had been electrocuted again.
Of all the ways for Danny to die…
Dick left Cass to finish off the room and stalked deeper into the basement. He didn’t try to be quiet. He wanted them to find him. He wanted them to try and stop him. They had killed Danny, the guy who had made Jason so happy, who stood up to Nightwing, who smiled and laughed and tried so hard to live!
Who made his little wing want to live.
Dick wanted them to try and stop him.
He slammed open another door. The room had barely any light from the squat narrow windows.
A chair was in the center of the room.
A body was in it.
Dick choked out a name. “Danny—”
And then Danny moved.
-
“Danny?!” The voice sounded small, choked off, but Danny knew it.
No, villains were involved, that meant it was the one with wings instead.
“Heeey Nightwing,” Danny said. He tried to raise his head to look at the other, but it just lolled back on his weak neck. He was left blinking up at the ceiling. All of him felt like jelly. “I have had… a shockingly bad night. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.”
Nightwing ran across the floor of the warehouse, footsteps loud in the flooded water. “Holy shit Danny, how are you alive?”
“Mmm been killed once by electricity before, ‘m immune now.”
“Yeah, no, Danfish” Nightwing said. His voice and hands both shook as he undid the ropes binding Danny’s wrists. “Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Is with me,” Danny slurred. He tried, desperately, to stay sitting upright when the ropes around his chest were undone, but he was still in that jelly state and slumped forward into Nightwing who, thankfully, caught him. “Hey, think I’m gonna get a new set of Lichtenberg scars out of this?”
The arms around him tightened almost painfully before they relaxed. “Don’t know little fish. Guess we’ll have to see at the hospital.”
“No!” Danny tried to struggle against Nightwing as fear gripped him. “No hospitals.”
“Danny. You were just electrocuted— very publicly electrocuted, we have to get you checked out.”
Danny clung to Nightwing. “Nooo… they’ll know and they’ll want to cut me open and that can’t happen—”
“Danny, hey, it’s okay, we won’t let anyone do that to you,” Nightwing soothed. He held Danny’s face in between his hands, making Danny look at him. “We won’t let anyone else hurt you tonight. How about we call in a doctor we trust to the hospital. Is that okay?”
“They won’t tell?”
“Never. She’s always looked out for us, all of us. She’s patched us all up plenty, even Red Hood. Please? We’ll all worry otherwise and there will be more questions.”
Danny nodded, feebly, in the other’s grip. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go if she’s the one. Get the… the case, the ecto.”
He didn’t want anyone to worry about him. Fuck, had he scared them? He bet he had. He’d been a little scared himself. He didn’t want to be dead dead yet.
Things were just getting good.
“I have him,” Danny heard Nightwing say as the other man scooped him up. He pressed his ear to the chest, relaxing at the rumble of the words. “I have him and he’s alive.”
-
Two Face was saying something. Laughing at him, applauding him. Jason couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything but Danny’s screaming.
The TV was nothing but static.
Jason was aware, distantly, of the bomb being pulled off the hostages. Of Bruce having to hold back Damian from leaping at Two Face. Of the mayor pulling Bruce back from doing the same. Of another window shattering as Red Robin came through and the Bats descended on the henchmen scattered throughout the room.
Jason could still hear Danny screaming.
Screaming and static.
He lunged.
He was on Two Face before anyone could stop him. The man’s head hit the ground with a sickening thunk. Jason didn’t care. He started punching. He felt the delicate bone under that shocked yellow eye give under his fist. He swung again and again. Two Face clawed at Jason, but he didn’t stop— not until Bruce pulled Jason off the rogue and into his arms.
Jason curled into the hold like he was fourteen and small again. He clung to Bruce with cracked and bleeding knuckles and sobbed. He needed to stop, to pull himself together, to…
“…need to find him. Bruce, I need to find him!”
“Maybe we should let the others,” Bruce murmured. He ran a hand through Jason’s hair.
“No, I need to—” Oh. Bruce thought Danny had to be dead. He could be. He might be. But there was a chance that he wasn’t. And Jason’t couldn’t— “I need to.”
Bruce was silent before he sighed, softly. “Alright, Jaylad, let’s—”
The chatter in their comms that Jason hadn’t even been listening to. Hadn’t been able to listen to, went silent.
“Repeat?” It was Cass who asked, her voice small and demanding.
Barbara reached over and passed him her phone, using it as a cover for what they heard next.
“I have Danny,” Dick said. “I have Danny and he’s alive.”
“Damian, stay with Barbara,” Bruce ordered, already running.
Bruce and Jason took off through the aftermath of the hostage situation, dodging the crowd and downed goons, police and reporters.
“Nightwing,” Bruce urged into the comms.
“He’s alive and conscious but very out of it,” Dick said and continued before there could be any more questions. “Agent A, we need the doctor at the hospital. Call her and then head there yourself. You need to bring a case from inside the Cave. It’s in with the old training equipment, behind the dummies. The case is metal with a green ghost drawn on top.”
The ectoshots. Dick had remembered the ectoshots.
“Right away,” Alfred’s cool tone came across the comms.
“Nightwing,” Bruce said again.
“Not now. Just… fuck, B, he’s alive,” Dick said. Jason could hear the near heartbreak in his brother’s voice. The growing sound of ambulance sirens couldn’t cover it. “Just get here. The Jasper building.”
Jason’s slick dress shoes skidded on the damp concrete as they made it out the back door of the building. The flashing lights were already visible. The fog drenched buildings seemed to glow with them. Danny was so close and they still had failed him.
A police officer stepped forward to stop them as they came around a corner. Bruce intercepted the bracing arm and pushed it back; it gave Jason enough room to rush past and towards the ambulance. Paramedics and police were crowded around it. Nightwing was standing guard.
Jason shoved past them all.
Danny.
He slid to his knees and clutched at Danny where the other was sat on the back of the ambulance.
“Danny.”
“Hey, dead boy. I guess… I guess you get to keep your nickname still. Not mine yet,” Danny rasped behind the oxygen mask.
Jason choked out a laugh against his will. He buried face against Danny’s neck and squeezed the other tighter. He didn’t manage to hold back his tears. “Yeah, guess I do, fish.”
---
AN: *jazz hands* See! It's going to be fiiiiiiiiiiine.
I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!
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confused-wanderer · 8 months
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The entire batfamily’s dynamic and trope- no matter the situation of hurt, anger, sadness, love or loathing - can be fit into one single quote:
“I didn’t know where else to go”
Duke sees it barely a month after he moves into the manor. It was a quiet afternoon, he was finishing up some work when the motion sensor lights up. And then three seconds later, he hears the raps on the door. Tight, repressed but purposeful. So it was definitely one of the family.
He opens the door, and Stephanie is there. She looks a bit startled, understandable as Duke was still a recent addition to the family, before she looks down, huffs and goes inside. He feels Jason’s presence behind him, one of those rare but not so rare occasions where Jason was staying at the mansion and having a cooking session with Alfred. Jason sighs, puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder and follows after Steph.
The second time he was witness to it was at Dick’s apartment. The two were hanging out, both laughing and playing games before Duke notices that while ordering dinner Nightwing asks for four large pizzas. And when Duke asks, Dick just shrugs, a look in his eyes that Duke can’t quite place. Later when they return from patrol, Duke almost has a heart attack at the silent figures in the shadows, lounging on the couch and eating the pizza. Tim barely acknowledges them, body tight while Kon, Jason and Harper keep munching with no explanation.
And the more he sees these incidents - be it Jason going to Tim, Barbara coming to Dick, Cass crashing at Stephanie’s’ or all of them coming to Bruce - one of the bats using the mansion as a lighthouse in their darkest hours, or seeking out others in times of need, he swears he can hear their voices in the silence, each time louder than the last.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
Nobody ever said those words out loud. Most times they just sought out company, normalcy or the closest thing they knew to it. But thankfully, in a family of stubborn people in pain, they all were detectives, and always kept an extra plate, an extra chair and console, always open for the other.
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readychilledwine · 7 months
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Surprises
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Summary - Azriel has been itching to touch his High Lady for a long time. (Azriel x Tamlin's sister OC x Rhysand)
Warnings - NSFW - minors DNI, porn with little plot, oral (male and female receiving), shadow play, wing play, over stimulation, anal play, dirty talk, Rhys being a slight pleasure dom.
A/n - so I *may* have forgot there is a character named Briar in the series already, but figured with allowing the Tamlin x Elain crackship (which I'm not overly a fan of but can see Elain so happy in spring and allowed it for this) I might get forgiven. There's potential for this to have a fairly um plot lacking part 2. Just let me know what you think.
✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️
Rhys currently had his head buried in her cunt, eating her like a man starved while she begged and pleaded to cum.
If Briar died now, she'd die happy.
She caught the peonies in the vase out of the corner of her eye. They were blooming rapidly as her pleasure took over.  My little Springling still can't control her flowers when I'm playing with this pretty pussy, can she?
Her only response to her mate was a loud whimper as he sucked and licked her clit, eyes never leaving hers as she leaned up on her elbows to watch.
400 years, and I will never tire of the taste of you on my tongue. He pushed two fingers into her, making her cry out his name. So tight and wet. Is this all for me, Briar?
"Yes, daddy. It's always for you. I'm yours." The high lord moaned around her swollen and abused clit at the words. She'd already came twice for him, but he wanted more. He wanted her begging him to stop. He got off on the tears she'd cry from over stimulation and edging, and he wanted those big tears tonight. He wanted her so far gone she could only cry. Say the word and we stop. 
"Yes daddy," she sighed softly before leaning back down. Moaning loudly as he continued sucking, licking, and finger fucking her to another orgasm. 
This third one was always the hardest to get from her, but once it happened, she'd be putty for him. And that thought alone as he pushed against the spongy part of her core that made her see stars .Rhys got off on Briar's pleasure. He ate her pussy because it pleased HIM to watch her squirm. To watch her beg. To watch her Spring Court magic unleash itself on the flowers he kept in the room for that exact purpose. They bloomed beautifully as she reached her peak, and based on the twitching and clenching of her walls, the sound of his name falling from her lips like a prayer, the way the peonies had fully opened, and her thoughts of nothing but Rhys wrecking her, she was almost there. 
And then a knock came on the door, making them stop and Rhysand growl loudly. The knock was followed by the sound of a deep cold voice, "Rhys, I'm really sorry, but the other high lords are here. In the townhouse. Like right now. They're all here. With their parties. They're all in the great hall you added on. They've agreed to your meeting, but want to do it on their terms. Feyre, Cass, and Lu are doing the best they can to entertain them."
Briar whimpered in frustration due to Rhysand stopping. He shot her a look, Do not whine like a brat, or I will not let you suck my dick for a week. Her lip trembled at the thought. 
He kept his fingers pumping in and out of her, curling and hitting the perfect spot before adding his thumb to circle gently around her clit. He could smell Azriel's arousal when Briar moaned again and smirked slightly.  He knocked gently on Azriel's shields, his brother allowing him in instantly. She's been thinking about it more and more, Azriel. Maybe she just needs the right surprise and motivation.
Rhys watched her arch her back before verbally responding, "When did they get here? Is my wonderful brother in law here as well?"
Azriel was about to undo his belt, and take care of the problem listening to Briar's cries was creating, but stopped himself.  She was his high lady, his best friend. He would not do this, "Lucien's message came to the House of Wind maybe 10 minutes ago. You warded the house so heavily I had to fly in since you did not answer when any of us called. Yes, Tamlin is here."
Rhysand's smile went feral, "Give me 5 minutes, Azriel. The High Lady is almost done. Feel free to come watch." 
Azriel was surprised, but never one one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He opened the door immediately and went to the chair at the desk across from the bed. 
Briar's long blonde curls were around her like a golden halo. Her back arched as Rhys began eating her out again. Her panting was rapid and heavy, her breasts bouncing lightly as she lowered her back to bed. She felt like her skin was on fire under Azriel's watchful gaze. He was memorizing every dip and curve of her, a hand resting under his chin as a soft smirk played on his face.
Do you want him to touch you baby? Briar whined and nodded. She felt Rhys chuckle softly into her clit purposely making her moan again. Call for your spymaster, little mate.
"Azriel," hazel eyes met green as Briar held her hand out to the shadowsinger, "Please. Need you." He blinked a her, a single dark brow arching as if to challenge her. "Az, please. So close. Need you."
He moved slowly at first until Rhys came into his head. She wants you to touch her Azriel. Would you rather taste her or have her taste you?
Cauldron boil me Rhys. You know what I'm going to pick. And the high lord did, he pulled off and out of Briar making her sigh sadly again but not whine as she watched her husband crawl up her body. 
"You're going to get on your hands and knees. You're going to sit that delicious cunt on Azriel's face. And you're going to suck my cock like a good little girl. Am I understood?" 
"Yes daddy." The three of them moved in sync and Azriel growled the second he had Briar in tasting distance. 
She was dripping, new heat hitting her core at how taboo this was. "Sit on my face, Briar." Rhysand gently pushed her shoulders lowering his mate on to Azriel's waiting mouth and tongue. 
The groan of pleasure that left Azriel the second her essence hit his tongue made Briar cry out loudly. Immediately, Azriel had his tongue buried inside of her walls, teeth gently grazing her swollen nerves. Rhys pulled his cock from his boxers and tapped the head on Briar's lips. "Open now." 
She parted her lips, immediately coming to lick off his precum.  We must be quick, my love. We can't have them waiting too long.
If he keeps doing whatever he's doing down there, I'll be done in seconds. Rhys laughed darkly and relayed the message to Azriel as he brought his wife's hair into a make shift ponytail and began slowly fucking her mouth. He groaned softly as shadows began playing with Briar's nipples. "Such a spoiled girl." Rhys thrusted harshly into her mouth making her gag.
Azriel smirked from below her and doubled down on his efforts, Briar was constantly moaning around Rhysand as he forced her to deep throat him, his eyes shutting, head thrown back in pleasure as she gagged and swallowed around him. Azriel began to tease her other puckered hole with his shadows. The second she started grinding her hips, moaning around Rhysand's cock, he asked his brother, Can I? 
Fuck her like a whore, Az. Give her a little taste of what this would be like. Azriel commanded the shadow, it pushed into Briar's ass and began gently fucking her while Azriel continued eating her cunt. It was dripping consistently now, and he was drinking every ounce he could, his tongue licking her inner walls. He undid his leather bottoms, pulling out his own cock and fisting it in time with his tongue in her cunt.
Rhysand looked down at Briar from his long lashed. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, her face red as she choked on his member, lips swollen with saliva falling on her chin. She was moaning around him like a well trained whore, and below her?
Below her was one of his favorite sights in the world, Azriel eyes shut in bliss, cock in his hand, he was practically drowning in Briar's juices. His wings flaring with joy, shadows circling her perfect body. Rhys has wanted to watch the two of them for a century now. But Gods his brother and her moaning together was almost too much. 
He could tell she felt guilty though. Guilty Az was not being stimulated since she couldn't see behind her. Her fingers twitched before slowly reaching down. She found the hard ridge of his massive wings and ran the backs of her fingers on it. Azriel and Rhysand both groaned at the sight. The scarred hands tightening down on her thighs while her husband's pulled her hair tighter.
Is this okay? She knew their wings were precious. She would never want to violate Azriel. 
"He wants you to play with him, my spider lily. Keep going. Show him how good you want him to feel." Rhysand's voice was breathy. She could tell by his twitching cock, the sloppy thrusts, and the vile things leaving his mouth he was close.
And so was she. She continued moan from Azriel's thick tongue and skilled mouth pulling her apart while his shadow fucked her rarely used hole. Dragging deliciously inside of her and making the efforts of Azriel's tongue feel doubled.
Azriel was moaning from her fingers gently massaging the sensitive parts of his wings, and from her pleasure. He was close. He would have came just from getting to watch Rhys and Briar. This was a surprise he had not been expecting, though, and he knew he would not last long.
Rhys moaned, whispering the dirtiest things as he continued roughly fucking the Daughter of Spring's throat. He could have died a happy male, right here, right now. Watching his wife struggle with all three of her holes filled, watching Azriel's hips buck his cock further into his hand as she played with his wing, then she touched Rhysand's wing, and he knew. He knew he was in for the end game. Make daddy cum, Briar. You know the spot.
Briar found the spot she wanted on Azriel first. It was the same spot she was now reaching for on Rhysand's own left wing. The second she tapped it on both of the wings, the males fell over the edge. Rhysand shoved her head fully onto his cock, coming undone deep down her throat. Whispering her name over and over as she swallowed his seed and never broke eye contact with him. Briar moaned, swallowing the salty liquid. She continued giving Rhys soft sucks in time with his hips twitching.
Azriel growled and whimpered from his high into Briar's cunt before latching directly onto his high lady's clit to make her fall over the edge as he came on his hand and leathers.  "Cum for him Briar." It was her high lord, mate, and husband's command that finally gave her the ability to cum on Azriel's waiting tongue. Rhys pulled out of her mouth allowing Azriel to hear her soft cries of his name name he allowed her to grind her hips on his face. 
"Azriel! Fuck! Gods yes!" Rhys caught Briar as her body gave out, finally falling too far over the edge of bliss. Her legs were shaking around Azriel's head as he held her thighs in place and worked her body through her high, allowing her inner walls to twitch on his tongue and greedily lapping each drop of her juices down. Rhys was in her ear, praising her as he held her chin and watched her eyes as she fell into an over stimulated haze.
He finally picked her up, allowing Azriel to sit up. "What do you say, Briar?"
Her cock drunk eyes hit Azriel as she smiled softly, "Thank you."
He nodded, "Anything for my high lady. I'm going to change and let them know you're on the way." With that sentence he was gone, Rhys giving him a scent shield so no one would know what just happened. 
He snapped a true night court dress on Briar. It was a thin black gossamer with hand sewn gems making it look as though she was covered in stars. Her body was mostly exposed. Everyone would see the marks he had already left on her. He fixed her golden crown before snapping clothing on himself.  He leaned down kissing his wife and mate deeply waiting for Azriel to give the okay.
They're all seated and ready whenever you are.
Winnowing now. Rhys pulled Briar to him, smirking at her flushed freckled cheeks, her wide doe eyes pleading for more. The next several hours would have to be mental stimulation, teasing touches. A big built up, he had decided, until the two of them were alone again, hopefully with a spymaster in tow.
He winnowed them directly into the town house and pulled away from her when they hit their destination. He led her into the hall by the small of her back. The inner circle all stood next to two empty chairs. Lucien took one look at Briar and had to school his reaction before sneakily giving Rhys a thumbs up.
"How nice of you all to join us here," Rhys faked the pleasantries as he greeted them all. "I'm sure my mate will forgive all of you for ruining the evening we had planned for our anniversary. Come, Briar Darling." They moved to sit. Taking the long way to their side. 
The room was silent. Tamlin's face had gone red as soon as the scent of his sister and Rhysand hit him, Elain giggled in the seat next to him. Helion was holding back laughter as he looked at the cock dazed high lady. Kallias and Viv had their mouths covered, eyes sparkling with glee. Rhys sat her in the chair meant for her before kneeling down in front of her.
"Briar Darling, are you with us?" Briar just sighed softly and kissed Rhysand making the Lord of Autumn scoff and Eris smirk. "Wonderful. That means my influential cock and I had almost gotten to do my job." A few laughs filled the room as Rhys winked to Beron. 
He tapped into Azriel's mind, And that you did yours wonderfully brother. Come back tonight so we can finish what we started. 
Azriel's wings fluttered in joy as Briar smiled softly at him. To the outside world, it appeared the High Lady was just acknowling her known sworn sword, but Azriel and Rhys knew what she was thinking as Rhysand poured in filthy inner thoughts into Azriel's mind. With pleasure brother. 
Rhysand moved into his own seat, his mate curling her legs into the chair and snaking an arm around his as she leaned into his shoulder. He leaned back, joking behavior gone as he put a hand on Briar's exposed leg, and stroked her outer thigh gently, "Welcome to my townhome, and welcome to Velaris, the City of Starlight. It is the gem of the Night Court. I would have prepared a tour and meal at one of Briar's favorite places to take newcomers had we known you all were coming, but we will make do with what we have." Lucien handed him the paperwork Rhysand had drafted for this meeting.  "Shall we get started?"
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phantom-0-writer · 28 days
Text
regular boy: daniel wayne
masterlist/link to ao3
summary:
“Reporting live from Gotham City!” The reporter spoke “Here at the scene of the crime where Dr. Collin Kilye, renowned geneticist, has shot himself and has been declared dead by the paramedics. Dr. Kilye is suspected to be responsible for the purposeful switching of newborns between families under his care, where an estimated over 500 babies have been swapped in the last 20 years of his employment here. Based on the information provided to the Gotham PD by Nightwing and Batman, the vigilantes investigating the crime, we are led to believe that Nightwing has been investigating this case after an anonymous tipoff of Dr. Kilye’s suspicious activities. After a month and a half of investigating, Nightwing reason to believe the Dr. Kilye of malpractice and came to his office to investigate-” - Dick had learned that people never know a situation as well as they assume they did. Dick had always assumed that he wouldn’t be one of those people. He was a detective, a Bat, the first Robin. The case file in front of him glared tauntingly. Danny Fenton; Birth Parents: Bruce Wayne (father) and Clarissa King (mother). Status: Alive
chapter 01: breaking news
tw/cw: mentions of infant death and fictional medical procedures
dick: 25 jason: 20 danny: 16 tim: 16 steph: 17 cass: 15 duke: 17 damian: 13
Danny sighed, stepping through the front door and into the empty living room not bothering to turn on the lights and tossed his hoodie onto a nearby sofa. Normally Jazz would have berated him for being messy, or maybe Mom would have nagged about Danny being older and needing to clean up after himself. But Jazz was off studying neurology at Harvard. And his parents had gotten an “an amazingly irrefutable offer, Danno” to work at Dalv Co. under their new ecto-technologies sector, that partnered closely with the GIW. So they were usually busy with that. 
Not that Danny wasn’t glad to have time apart from his parents. After what Danny only referred to as The Chicago Incident, he could barely stand being in the same room with them. Danny kept quiet about what happened. He hadn't told anyone, not Sam or Tuck or Val or Wes and especially not Jazz. He couldn’t. He’d only managed to survive thanks to the timely aid of Fright Knight and Firebolt (a ghost friend he made when he was stuck in the Ghost Zone during the GIW’s six-month Martial Law lockdown- but that was a story for another time). 
Leaving his shoes somewhere by the door, Danny made his way into the kitchen, perusing through the remnants of edible material. The equipment in the basement would have been collecting dust if Danny hadn’t taken his liberties with it. Apart from his newfound and unbounded freedom that he regarded with gratitude, Danny even began dabbling in cooking real people food. And it was definitely because he wanted to and not because he was sick of microwavable food, Jazz. 
With Danny’s rendition of chicken alfredo ready, he ate in front of the TV. He flipped through a few channels before just landing back on the news. He half-listened to the anchor telling him about the incoming weather front before the screen abruptly changed, flashing a bright red Breaking News sign for a moment before panning over to a lady in front of what looked like a crime scene. 
“I’m Jenifer Blair, reporting live from West Gotham City with Z News!” The reporter spoke urgently over the loud sounds of police and ambulance sirens in the background. “Here at the scene of the crime where Dr. Collin Kilye, renowned geneticist, and lead researcher at West Gotham General Hospital, has shot himself and has been declared dead by the paramedics. Dr. Kilye is suspected to be responsible for the purposeful switching of newborns of families under his care. It is estimated that over 500 babies have been swapped in the last 20 years of his employment here. Based on the information provided to the Gotham PD by Nightwing and Batman, the vigilantes investigating the crime, we have been told that Nightwing has been investigating this case after an anonymous tipoff of Dr. Kilye’s suspicious activities. After a reported month and a half of investigating, Nightwing had reason to suspect Dr. Kilye of malpractice and came to his office to investigate where--”
The sudden sound of his phone ringing brought Danny back to his living room. “Hey, Tuck,” Danny answered, lowering the volume of the TV. 
“Danny! Dude! Have you seen the news story of Batman and Nightwing’s recent bust?” Tucker asked, his voice radiating fanboy excitement. 
“Wasn’t it mostly just Nightwing?” Danny raised an eyebrow at his friend, even though he couldn’t see it. “Batman showed up later.” 
“Yeah, well, Batman and Nightwing-”
“Nightwing and Batman.”
“Okay, whatever- but isn’t this totally insane? It’s like Parent Trap- but illegal.”
“That’s not what happens in Parent Trap.” Danny pointed out for the sole purpose of being annoying. 
“It’s the essence, Danny!” Tucker groaned. Danny could practically hear him rolling his eyes through the phone. “We’re still on for the new Doom game tonight?” 
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. The others come by yet?” Danny put his plate in the sink. 
“I’m adding them to the call.” 
On the third ring, “‘Sup Fenton ‘n Foley. Ready to get your nonexistent butts handed to you?” Val goaded, already hyped for their game. 
“Hey! I’ll have you know I have a very nice butt. And Danny’s isn’t anything to scoff at either-” Tucker snapped only to be cut off by Danny.
“Okay! Thanks for the defense, Tuck.” Danny stepped in quickly before the conversation took a turn he did not want to witness. 
--- 
Dick was alone in the BatCave, working out the final details of his case before sending it off to be released publicly. In all of Dick’s years as Robin to Nightwing, this case was easily one of the most disastrous to the general public. Given that it was his case, Dick wanted to make sure it went smoothly. Or as smoothly as telling a family their child isn’t biologically theirs can go. 
Sorting through the files and pairing up the families with the correct child was relatively easy, thanks to the incredible details Dr. Kilye stored in his files. If the circumstances were different, Dick would have been amazed at how much data the doctor managed to keep collecting for 568 different subjects of his experiment. Silently praising himself for having already made his way through about half the files, Dick stretched his neck as he clicked the View Next button. 
In his line of work, Dick had learned that people never know a person or situation as well as they thought they did. Dick had been confident he wouldn’t be one of those people. He was a detective, a Bat, the first Robin. He knew better than to assume anything. The file that showed up next was chilling proof that he was wrong. For a Bat, the past never stayed in the past. 
File Number: 6678
Date of Birth: 12 February 20XX
Name: Thomas Wayne Jr 
Assigned Mother: Clarissa King (missing) 
Assigned Father: Bruce Wayne (alive)  
Biological Mother: Madeline Fenton (alive) 
Biological Father: Jack Fenton (alive) 
Medical Conditions: 
Malformations of the heart and lungs
Unidentified chemicals present in blood test
Updates and Notes: 
Deceased on 23 February 20XX (11 days old)
The memories he managed to keep buried for years seized Dick’s senses, and he was back in the hospital waiting room at age 9. None of the others had known about the time Bruce and Thalia had tried to work things out and had given having a family together a try. No LoA business. No Bat or JLA. Just regular(ish) people in a regular(ish) family. 
It had gone well for the months before Talia had become pregnant. Even most of the pregnancy had gone smoothly. Dick got to be in an actual family again after the death of his parents. They had dinner together. Talked about their day. Watched movies together.
But then Talia had gotten sick, and the baby ended up coming out a little early. The doctors had told them it was normal and that the baby would probably still be healthy. So Alfred sat in the waiting room with a nervous Dick, excited to meet his first-ever little brother. He’d always wanted a little brother. Bruce came to the waiting room after making Dick and Alfred wait forever and told them they could come in now. Talia, under the alias Clarissa King, was asleep when they entered. 
Bruce had told them the doctors had taken Thomas to get cleaned and do a few check-ups. Dick remembered the anxious but excited look on Bruce’s face as he kept glancing at the door, ready to pounce the second the doctor would come back with Dick’s new baby brother. 
Except that never happened. 
When the doctor came back into the room, he had a clipboard in his hand, not a baby. The Doctor told them to follow him, and they went inside a room with a bunch of machines in it, and in the middle of the room was Dick’s baby brother.
The baby was mostly bald, but he had little bits of black hair on his head, like Bruce and Talia. Dick wondered what color eyes the baby would have. Talia had green eyes, but Bruce and Dick had blue eyes. Alfred had said the baby needed a lot of rest and that’s why he was sleeping so much. Dick would be a good big brother and wait patiently until his baby brother woke up. 
But the baby had to stay in the hospital for 10 whole days since Bruce had told Dick that his brother was really sick. Dick would check the nursery to make sure it was ready for his brother before Alfred would take him to the hospital to visit. Dick’s baby brother hadn’t been awake any of those days and Dick never got to find out what color his eyes were. 
On the eleventh day, they didn’t go to visit. When Dick asked Alfred why, the butler had walked him to the patch of loose dirt in the backyard marked with a little piece of rock with his brother’s name on it. 
Dick had seen that type of rock with his parent’s name on it before. 
It meant that he was gone, and Dick would never get to see him again. 
When Bruce had introduced Jason Todd and said he would stay with them in the manor, that was the first time Dick had truly ever been betrayed by Bruce. 
Jason wasn’t his brother. Thomas was. But Thomas wasn’t here. Jason may get to say he was Bruce’s son too, but he didn’t get to know about Thomas. 
Not letting his childhood tears deter him from his new goal, Dick quickly found the associated file. Dick’s heart pounded in his chest while his breath was still stuck somewhere in his throat, 
File Number: 77563
Date of Birth: 12 February 20XX
Name: Daniel Fenton 
Assigned Mother: Madeline Fenton (alive) 
Assigned Father: Jack Fenton (alive) 
Biological Mother: Clarissa King (missing) 
Biological Father: Bruce Wayne (alive)  
Medical Conditions: 
Normal Birth
Age 12: Electrocuted 
Hospitalized for 24 hours. 
Developed Acute Bradycardia 
No follow-up medical procedures 
Updates and Notes: 
Prefers “Danny” 
Dick looked over the file again and again. His baby brother was alive. He had come back. 
Should he tell Bruce? Obviously, that was a dumb question. How should he tell Bruce? 
Well, Richard Grayson was nothing if not tactful. He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket, pulled up both files next to each other on the large screen of the Bat Computer, snapped a picture, and clicked send. Bruce was supposed to be having dinner with some important business people or whatnot, so Dick decided he should flee the scene before the Big Bad Bat found him, not wanting to know what his wrath would bestow on him. Heaven forbid, Bruce might even talk about emotions.
He closed all the files, stored them in a flash drive, and wiped them from the computer. After all, this was his case, and he’d be the one to see it through. Dick was right in front of the elevator when the doors opened to reveal Tim.
“You’re done?” Tim asked, raising a suspicious brow.
“I have a flight to catch.” Dick said, “I need to pack.”
“Is it for a case?” Tim asked, putting his phone in his pocket. 
“Yeah. Be the bestest brother ever and cover for me?” Dick pleaded, flashing his signature smile.
“Why should I?” He huffed already a few feet away from where Dick stayed. 
With a smirk, “‘Cause you don’t want Bruce to know what taking the Batmobile out for a ‘joyride’ was really for,” Dick said with a smirk. 
Tim turned around, alarmed. “Fine, I’ll cover. But you better not tell.” Tim hissed at him.
“Scout’s Honor.” Dick winked before catching the elevator. 
“You weren’t even a Scout.” He heard Tim complain before the doors fully shut. 
Three hours later, Dick landed in Chicago, Illinois and hailed a cab to take him the rest of the 1-and-a-half-hour drive to Amity Park. Where Thomas  Daniel Danny lived. Dick hadn’t exactly planned this whole excursion through, which wasn’t very trained-by-Batman of him. But Dick knew how to do things by the nose when he needed to. 
He had used the time in the plane to finish the rest of the files, which he completed quickly with his ultimatum in mind. Dick purposely ignored every notification vibrating in his pocket knowing he would be facing the wrath of either Tim or Bruce. 
But now he was sitting in a car for one-and-a-half hours with nothing to look out for except the darkness of the night and a relatively empty road. He opened his phone to 56 messages and missed calls. He scrolled through the groupchat, ignoring it when it was just talking about regular stuff. Next, he opened his messages from Tim. 
Timbers: Dick.
Timbers: what did you do?????
Timbers: when you said cover I thought you meant for patrol or smt 
Timbers: not whatever beef Bruce apparently has with you??
Timbers: I demand compensation!!!
Timbers: [1 video]
Dick opened the video Tim sent him. It was 90 seconds of security camera feed from right above the elevator. Bruce’s hair was disturbed from his usual well-done look he kept for business meetings and his tie was undone. He stormed towards the Bat Computer where Tim was doing whatever Tim does on the computer. Despite being dressed in business attire, Dick could practically see the flurrying of the Batman cape behind him as he walked. Bruce whipped the chair Tim sat on around to face him so fast that Tim nearly fell off. 
‘Where’s Dick?’ The camera was a bit far but still picked up Bruce’s echoing voice. To Dick’s surprise, and seemingly Tim’s as well, Bruce didn’t seem mad. Disgruntled, alarmed, slipping from sanity? Yes. Genuinely angry? Not quite. It made Dick feel a little guilty. Only a little, though.
‘I dunno,’ Tim said, still reeling from the surprise attack. 
Bruce pushed Tim’s chair away from the computer, scavenging through the files, no doubt looking for the files on Thomas and Danny. Unfortunately for Bruce, every single one of those files was secure in Dick’s jacket pocket. Bruce would come to realize that soon enough, as he took a shaky breath and stepped away from the screen.
The video ended. 
That explained the 12 missed calls from Bruce. Dick debated calling him back. No doubt Bruce would ask for an explanation. An explanation he still has yet to come up with. 
Deciding this was a problem for future Dick, present Dick decided he would let himself doze off for the rest of the cab ride to his destination.
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flamingpudding · 3 months
Text
Part 15 of Ghost Kid in Gotham
>>Masterpost >>AO3
<<1 Previous Next
Green and Red Emotions, similar but not
Jason leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he waited. He checked the time one more time and then listened for the sounds in the hallway. The bandage against his arm was causing an itch he ignored skilfully. If there was one thing the little shit was apparently good at in his feral stage it was fucking biting, though it was nothing to be proud at. Well unless you were well versed in the art of fighting dirty.
Eitherway the kid had a sharp set of chompers and apparently some sort of homing sense, considering Jason was only sporting three visible bite marks all on the same forearm and all nearly in the same area. The kid always aimed for that specific spot to bite. Maybe Jason should start considering keeping that arm out of sight for the little shit so he wouldn't latch onto it. But the following worst case would be the kid deciding on a new spot to bite on.
Footsteps caught Jason's attention and he inclined his head slightly. Light with purpose loud enough to make sure people knew they were coming.
So he knew and was not going to avoid him today.
Good, Jason wasn't going to allow his brother to make that choice today anyway. He had waited long enough. His patience lasted long enough for his brother to step into the room fully and flick the lights on, before Jason closed the door behind him. Considering Dick was only simply turning around with a tired smile, confirmed his thoughts that his brother knew this was coming.
"Got enough of avoiding me already? Thought it would take me a week." He could help the teasing dig.
"Jason."
"Safe it Dickbird." He shook his head. "You're good. I don't think the 'kids' noticed anything. No bets on Cass though. She can read any of us like an open book."
He watched how his elder brother sighed, put his hands on his hips and still smiled at him. "What gave it away?"
Eyes traveling over the wary form of his elder brother he considered answering the question honestly. Dick was good at hiding certain emotions, but even he slipped up in the smallest of moments. Moments you wouldn't catch easily if one wasn't looking for them, small tells Jason had gotten familiar with over the years. He could be honest but then his elder brother would attempt to cover these tells in the future so he wouldn't 'worry' them and put even more on his shoulder unnecessarily.
"During that Dinner you stuck close to Demon Brat, little shit and me." It wasn't a lie, but neither the full truth. It was the first thing that tipped him off along with what Dick had said. "Besides that I have my own sources ans suspicions. The little shit has a pit, one that is different from mine."
"Is that going to be your nickname for Teethling, that's not a very nice little Wing?" Dick joked but Jason's expression didn't change as he watched the other. After a moment Dick once more let out a sigh and comped through his hair with one hand.
"If this is about what we found out about Danny's past. We didn't hide anything there. We have found an entire paper trail of his schooling. You know he could use some help with English." The light heartedness of Dick's voice did not carry as Jason didn't take the bait, but instead heard something else out of it.
"So what did you and the old man hide?"
"Jason." He tensed at the seriousness that entered his brother's voice. So it was bad, really bad. He wanted to curse Bruce but he didn't really know for what exactly, it was just one of his go to mechanisms whenever the old man kept something from them.
"Keep talking Dickbird or I will go to Barbie instead." Dick flinched, he refrained from arching an eyebrow but couldn't help the small lift to his lips. It was just a thrown out thread, implying that he would have Barbie hack into the Batcomputer if necessary to get the information it wanted but looking at that reaction. She was involved, and most likely not happy with their handling of the information they had.
As the silence stretched on he got impatient again.
"Chop chop pretty boy. Spill or do I really need to see Barbie?" Was it fair to use Barbara as some sort of weapon here? Probably not, but did he care? Nope, he didn't. He was going to get information on what was going on with the little shit and how much of that fucked up green juice was involved. Though he was pretty sure for the kid to get dragged it must have been a shit ton of it.
Neither of them moved for a while again, and Jason really thought that he might have to go to Barbara for real until Dick once more commed through his hair seemingly finally having come to a decision himself. Turning on his heel the elder went over to his desk and pulled out a laptop, not any laptop but the one with direct connection to the Batcomp Servers.
Jason caused heavily under his breath as he walked over and watched Dick power it up before logging in to access files. Fuck, it must be really bad if they went that far which meant Bruce had intended to keep all of them out of these files should they attempt it directly over the Batcomputer.
Which meant Demon Brat would have no chance of seeing these unless he uses one of the special access ways. The moment Dick pulled up the first image, Jason only half heartedly listened to his brother's explanation as his eyes turned green.
"These fuckers!" Oh he would need to go out on Crime Alley tonight, otherwise he wouldn't know where to put this shit ton of rage. His head sharply turned towards his elder brother for the first time he realized just how much of his own emotions Dick had been hiding from them reflected in the others eyes.
"The bits and pieces of the reports we recovered are even worse." He watched how Dick closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and focusing them solely on Jason. The rage he had just seen no longer reflected in his eyes but at the same time his brother halted like he saw something else that stopped him for a brief moment before he continued. "It's more speculation based on the bits and pieces we have discovered. Are you sure you really want in on this information Jason? It will not be pretty, and Danny…"
"Will still be a little shit that fucking bites me like I am his personal chew toy." Making direct eye contact Jason attempted to earnestly convey his stand on the situation. Besides now that he had seen a glimps of what was most likely truly going on, he was not going to leave that fucked up shit alone.
Jason only later learned through Dick's admission that his eyes had glowed green throughout the entire explanation of what they had dug up so far as well as what they were suspecting and only turned back once Dick was done and had closed the laptop. If he punched a couple of criminals in close combat just a tad bit harder than necessary in response that night, that was no one's but his own business.
Meanwhile in a Area hidden between Illinois and Gotham
Dan sat on the little hill of unconscious bodies he had created in his ghost form. Originally he was going to go for the headquarters of the League of Assassins. Thing was, having a merged ghost core of two different ghosts, as well as a newly created human side (thanks to his clone body), did intact impact his 'Danny' memories slightly. Which meant he sort of forgot where it was again, but hey instead he remembered where some of the sub hide outs where. Like this one that happened to be close to Illinois.
He kicked the guy squished under the one he was sitting on, enticing a pained groan out of them. They weren't dead, Jazz, Ellie and the twerp had spent a lot of time resocializing him. He was not about to fuck that up by taking a live. Besides, the twerp as well as his human half never really had been able to take a life.
Still he was stuck, now. He had thought that they had been involved. Danny had disappeared without an explanation. Of course there could alway have been the chance that the GIW as well as the twerps former parents had lied in some way. That instead of disappearing, the twerp just got transferred to some other place they didn't know about.
But Dan had remembered when he had seen the world map. He had remembered them. People capable of making people disappear without a trace. Be it permanently or for their body to turn up at a later point as a warning. He wouldn't have put it past them if they had been behind it.
If the old sack of bones had learned of the twerps powers, his tone most likely would have changed. His eyes flashed for a moment just a bit brighter in a muddled red at that thought.
In a way it surprised Dan that he was able to think this way about these people. But then again. He had left his human side behind and merged his core with Plasimus. He did not hold any sympathy for these people anymore. Well maybe only for one of them, the rest could go screw off as far as he cared. And if he knew his former self the way he did then he knew that the only ones the twerp would really care for would be his mother and twin. Which was fine with Dan only to a certain extent, he would only care for one of them and which one it was was pretty obvious in his opinion. Damian held the same value to him that Jazz did.
Talia was a different matter. Without his human half and probably a bit of the influence of Plasimus' core, Dan had a more objective opinion on his shared memories with Danny in regards to her.
Kicking another unfortunate soul on the human pile to give his frustration way, he growled as he sensed a new presence coming closer. When the growl didn't work as warning enough and the presence did not deter in their approach, he turned, flaring his hair and snarled towards the shadows.
His eyes glowed stronger and dangerously warning red as they narrowed at the person that stepped out of the shadows. Observing him and the pile of unconscious bodies stacked under him.
"This is quite the surprise. I did not expect your appearance."
"Where is he?" Dan snarled gloved fingers turning into claws, figures she knew about his existence somehow.
"Won't you at least greet me, Habibi?"
His hackles rose and held out his claws threateningly, preparing for the fight that was most likely to come. "I am no son of yours! Now, where the fuck is he?"
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yourmomxx · 10 months
Text
Sweet Child O’ Mine
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father of mine masterlist
summary: It’s time for Dean to face what he has been so afraid of the entire time. Meanwhile, the monster that has already taken one young man’s life, is on its way to claim the next one
warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural
word count: 11,2k (whoops)
disclaimer: What I know about Group Homes is what I know from my country (and Google), so I apologize if I made any mistakes
pt1 pt2 pt3
@psycho-magnotheric-slime
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Now
The cafeteria was loud. The mixed noise of talking children and clattering dishes and cutlery filled the air, creating a yet bearable loudness.
You were sat at one of the light blue tables, across from you your best friends Cassandra Claire and Finnegan Beckett.
Cass and Finn.
She was lowly cursing at the paper straw in her apple juice box and a few strands of her black bangs slipped into her view. The wolf cut, which had been so present a few months ago, was now already grown out and even the shortest strands of Cass’s hair were reaching her shoulders.
Finn seemed caught up in his own world as he carefully laid out little figures and symbols with his french fries. He still had a few, slightly red acne spots lingering on his skin, amongst freckles covering his nose and cheeks. His hair was flaming red, just as Roy’s had been, but other than him Finn usually hid the tousled locks under a cap.
Roy. The news of his death had hit the three of you hard. You had been a friendgroup of four, Roy and Finn, and Cass and you.
Almost a week ago you had been eating lunch at this exact table, the seat to your right had been taken, laughing about terrible jokes, bickering, and not even considering it all to end as soon as it did.
And especially how it did.
Roy’s body was still lying at the morgue. The authorities had kept it there for ‘further investigation purposes’ as they had said, so no funeral had been possible yet.
Of course, the adults had introduced all of you to helping hotlines and offered their own support in case anyone wanted to talk about their feelings and their grief in the safeness of a closed room.
Not that one of you took that into consideration.
The only way you three were coping with the whole situation was through joking around and pretending none of it ever happened. Which was fine.
You and Cass had sometimes talked in the darkness of your rooms, careful and short conversations while sleeping over because neither of you wanted to spend the night alone.
But other than that? Zero. And it was alright that way. The right moment would come.
Maybe.
“Aha!” Cass suddenly yelled out triumphantly, and startled Finn out of admiring his artwork.
You looked up at her from half-heartedly poking around in your own food, as she proudly held up the apple juice that was now pierced with what looked like the abused version of a thin straw.
You gave a small clap. “Bravo” and she grinned at you before turning to Finn.
Well done, Cassie,” he sarcastically said. “You won the hard fight against the opening of a box of apple juice.”
Cass pouted and took a sip. “You don’t appreciate my victories enough, Finn. And don't call me that. Cassie.” She dramatically shuddered at the nickname.
“I’m mentally unstable, not five.”
Finn examined her perfectly done eyeliner and makeup with skeptically raised eyebrows. “You don’t look mentally unstable to me,” he remarked.
Cass gasped. “Excuse me? Prejudices??” She exclaimed.
“You see that?” She asked, frantically pointing at her face. “See how perfect my makeup is today? That's not a good thing, dumbass! Perfect makeup means that I am absolutely mentally fucked!”
You nodded supportively, and Finn just raised his eyebrows, before he dedicated his attention back to poking around in his food.
“Don't you think that's kind of ironic?” He pointed out, and Cass simply ignored him, except for the tiny eye roll she gave.
“Guys, I need your help deciding what color I'm going to dye my hair next,” she changed the topic instead and desperately ran her hands through her hair.
Finn’s head whipped around, back to his friend. “You're honestly thinking about dying your hair right now?” He asked incredulously.
She groaned and threw him a look.
“No, Finnegan, I am not actively thinking about dying my hair, but I sense a mental breakdown coming and if I'm going to absolutely lose my shit and take it out on my hair, I want the result to look good. Otherwise, we are met with that weird yellow-green-combination again.” Cass let her body shudder dramatically.
“I liked the yellow-green-combination,” you interjected.
Cass reached over the table to lay her hand above yours and looked up at you with sweet eyes. “Thanks, hun.”
“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it,” mumbled Finn, his mouth stuffed full of fries. “Just leave them black.”
“I don’t think you quite understood how a mental breakdown works, man,” you said.
Finn shrugged and dipped a frie into his ketchup. “Whatever.”
You looked at Cass. “I’ll go shopping with you soon and then we will choose a color together,” you promised.
“Thanks,” she said and eyed Finn, “at least someone who cares if I ruin my good looks or not.”
But Finn didn’t hear her, or maybe he just ignored what she was saying. Because he changed the topic.
“Did the FBI agents get a hold of you guys yet?” He suddenly asked.
Your eyebrows shot up in confusion. “The what?”
“The FBI agents,” Finn repeated.
“Why, thank you, I got that part, but what is the FBI doing here?”
Cass just shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently they are here investigating Roy's murder.”
“What, they think someone murdered him?” You asked in disbelief.
“Well, he will not have crushed his ribs all on his own now, will he?” Finn drew a heart shape with the remaining ketchup on the plate.
“It's better than the state police,” retorted Cass, “who still think that it was some kind of ... animal attack.”
You snorted. “Yeah, right, because a bear sneaking into a castle, pushing down on someone's chest and then just leaving seems so plausible.”
Your friends raised their eyebrows in agreement.
“What did they ask you guys?” You closed your waterbottle and absentmindedly started cleaning up your plate.
Cass shrugged and leaned back in her chair with crossed arms. “Not much, the usual, I guess,” she answered, “Wanted me to tell them some things about Roy, his behavior lately, who would have wanted to hurt him…” She trailed off.
“Same here. Routine stuff,” Finn said. Then he leaned a bit closer and lowered his voice.
“To be honest, I don't really care why they're here, they are both incredibly handsome.”
“Finn!” You and Cassandra exclaimed at the same time.
“What?!” The boy widened his arms in defense. “Let me enjoy the one good thing that came from Roy's death.”
Cass shoved him in response. “God, you are a manwhore!” She grumbled.
Finn rubbed his arm with an offended pout on his lips and you giggled. “Geez, we must seem so fucked up, our best friend got murdered and here we are, joking about his death.” You shook your head lightly.
“It's what he would have wanted.” Cass scooted a bit closer on her seat and took both yours and Finn’s hand in acted solemnity.
“If I die,” she vowed, “you are now officially allowed to joke about my death as much as you want. On any occasion.”
“Sick!” You called out and Cass smirked.
“Can we please get back to the part where she said if?” Finn pointed out.
Cass rolled her eyes and pulled back.
“I'm a witch, after all,” she reminded him with a threatening silken voice that had a tone of mockery. “And one day, I will figure out the secret of necromancy, just you wait.”
Finn scoffed and grinned. “Right, you with your crystals, and your smokey sticks and your herbs and tarot cards.”
He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “That's some real serious stuff you got there, Cass.”
She pushed him away. “Yeah, keep making fun of it. We'll see who has the last laugh when I turn immortal and outlive all of you idiots.”
Finn shook his head. He looked at you and pointed his forefinger to his temple, moving it in circles to indicate what he held of her words.
You shook your head grinning, and Cass, who noticed the interaction, promptly took Finn’s sugar-glazed donut and dumped it in his untouched mayonnaise.
"Ew! Jesus, Cass, you are disgusting!" Finn yelled as he stared at the disaster.
She just shrugged and was quick to eat her own food before he would get any ideas.
For a while, it was quiet. You continued cleaning and sorting your lunch plate, while Cass ate and Finn and her did not speak a word to each other.
It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though, just a break from conversation.
Eventually, Cass was the one to break it.
“So, uhm, did you guys, like - I mean, have you been thinking about Roy, too? Or, like, dreaming or something?” With every word her voice got more quiet until it was only a low mumble, drifting apart in the busy noise around.
But still everything she said managed to pierce through the air and directly into your heart.
“Why would you bring that up?” Finn asked through gritted teeth, he almost sounded mad.
Cass avoided eye contact with both of you and pressed the palms of her hands against her forehead, as if to stop it from giving her incredible pain.
“I’ve been having those horrible nightmares, since it happened,” she sighed in despair.
“It’s the same thing over and over again. I see something going into his room, but when I try to open the door, it’s locked. And I hit it, and I scream, but there’s just no sound coming out of my mouth. And when the door finally opens, there he is, lying on the bed, just-”
A heavy clatter interrupted her monologue and made you flinch. Finn had thrown his fork onto his dinner plate.
“Didn’t ask about fucking details, Cassandra,” he hissed lowly, stood up and walked away with his tray in hand.
Cass looked after him as he left and put her head in her hands with a groan.
“I didn’t mean to upset him,” she mumbled into the fabric of her sleeve.
“I know,” you said. She raised her head. You gave her a sympathetic smile.
“D’you think he hates me now?”
You shook your head no. “He’s just grieving. We all are. He will get himself together again, promise.”
For a second, her lips quirked up in a small smile.
“Come on,” you said then and swung your leg over the bench, standing up. “We’ve been sitting here for far too long anyways.”
You took your tray and Cass was quick to follow you and put the dirty dishes away.
“I didn’t have any, by the way.” Confused, she looked at you.
“Nightmares,” you added.
Cass nodded. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll deal with this the same way I deal with everything: completely and utterly alone.”
You jokingly shoved her at her theatrics, and she grinned. “Shut up. I’ll be damned if I let you deal with any of this on your own. Got me?”
She laid a hand upon her heart and the other on your shoulder. “You’re so sweet,” she said. “And I suppose that also includes helping me study for my biology exam which I have definitely already studied for?”
You pulled back and inhaled sharply, pretending to think. “Ah ma’am, I am afraid this feature is not included in your subscription. We apologize for any discomfort this may bring.”
“It brings a great deal of discomfort!” Cass exclaimed while you two walked the hallway to your rooms.
“You can write me an email-complaint,” you joked. “No guarantees though. You’ve had like two weeks to study for that one.”
“I know, I know, but it’s so endlessly boring and complicated!” she cried.
You shrugged. “There’s a reason I didn’t take the AP class.”
“And I will forever envy you for it.”
You stopped when you reached the two doors to your bedrooms that laid right across of each other.
“Then,” you said and bowed lightly, “farewell my friend. May your head not explode while rehearsing for the terribly difficult school subject that is AP biology.”
She flipped you off and disappeared into her room. Laughing to yourself, you opened the door and slipped into your own.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Central Nebraska 2007
The past few hunting days had been rough. Sam and Dean had driven from one case to the next without a break, been beaten up by an entire pack of werewolves and hunted down a loose chupacabra outside of its usual territory.
Dean was beyond exhausted. His muscles ached, his head was pounding, and the lack of sleep was weighing his limbs down. He was practically dragging himself over the gravel path, before he swung open the door to Harvelle’s Roadhouse.
The air that hit them from inside was stuffy, warm, and smelt like sweat and alcohol. Low but loud enough music fell into an uncoordinated melody with loud chatter and the clinking of glass.
Dean felt like he had never experienced something more beautiful, after the weeks he’s had.
“Deeeeeannnn!”
He heard the excited cry of his name before he saw where it came from. He spotted a bright sundress on a small girl, and out of instinct crouched down as she sped towards him.
With a grunt, Dean picked her up in his arms mid sprint and lifted her up. Behind him, Sam closed the door again as Dean made his way over to the bar with little Y/N on his hip.
“How is my favorite girl today?” He asked her and she grinned at him.
“I’m good! I missed you,” she added.
Dean’s chest clammed with how much he loved her.
“Well, I’m back now, ready to give you allllll my attention. Come on, show me those fangs.” He nodded his head at her chin at his request, and Y/N drew her lips back and bared her teeth to him.
Dean held the hand that wasn’t holding her in front of his eyes and pretended to be blinded. “Wow, those are clean! I can’t even see anything.”
With a giggle, Y/N closed her mouth again and Dean blinked hard a few times.
“I brush them extra hard. Ask Auntie Ellen.”
Dean nodded. “I totally believe you. Every werewolf would be jealous of those teeth. Oh, did I say werewolf? I meant vampire, of course.”
Dean shook his head at himself, and Y/N beamed up at him with the brightest shining eyes he had ever seen.
“Good to see you again, boys,” Ellen greeted them and pulled out two glasses. “The usual?”
Sam and Dean nodded. Ellen started pouring. When Sam took his drink, he pointed somewhere in the back of the bar and said, “I’ll go have a talk with Ash.” Then he was gone.
Dean placed Y/N on one of the bar stools and took his seat next to her.
“Dean, can you play Operation with me?” Y/N asked him, and Dean stilled in his movement to take a sip of his drink. He opened his mouth to answer her, but Ellen was faster.
“Baby, let Dean rest for a bit. I’m sure these past few days haven’t been all sugar and cakes for him. Maybe later, alright?”
Y/N pouted a bit, but then shrugged and shuffled off the barstool. “Okay,” she said, and disappeared between the people, probably to the private rooms.
Dean looked after her and then turned back to Ellen with a thankful look on his face.
“Can’t believe that game is still so popular. I mean, I used to play with that in my childhood,” he said, and took a sip from his drink. The alcohol burned a bit down his throat, but it was exactly what he needed right now. Dean closed his eyes and sighed appreciatively.
“Really glad you’re back,” Ellen then told him honestly, as she opened up a beer for herself and folded her arms on the counter. “She’s been asking me nothing else than ‘When will Dean come back’ for the past few weeks. I can’t hear that sentence anymore.”
Dean chuckled and she took a sip.
“Yeah,” he dragged, and threw a look in the direction that Y/N had disappeared in. Ellen tilted her head and gave him a look he couldn’t quite read.
“You’re really good with her, ya know?” She twirled the bottle loosely on the counter. Dean avoided her inquiring gaze and looked into the liquor in his glass instead. He vaguely saw his reflection in it.
“’ve always been good with kids, I guess.” He shrugged it off.
Ellen hummed. Dean didn’t know what to make of it. He looked up at her again.
“For what it’s worth, she makes it really easy,” he said. Ellen raised her eyebrows. “To lo- to like her, I mean. She’s a great kid. You did good with her.”
Ellen sighed. “Yeah, I like to think I did. Wasn’t always easy.”
Dean nodded. A bit after they had met, Ellen had vaguely told him how she got to Y/N. How someone had just dumped the little girl, barely one year old, on her doorstep. No note, only a name and date of birth, and a blanket in the basket she had been put in.
When he had first heard the story, Dean’s hand had cramped around his beer bottle so hard his knuckles had turned white.
Stories like this about kids always got to him. But about this one? Hell, the lengths he would go to protect that little girl. She had made her way into his heart so easily, no preparation or caution, just boosted right into it with her bright smile and those happy eyes.
And Dean had never spent a day not wanting to know her.
Sometimes, when he thought about it, he thought about how easy it was. To love a kid. She wasn’t even his, but every time he had to say goodbye to her for God knows how long again, his heart broke a little more.
And he thought about how it was that easy, and how yet, somehow his father had not managed it. Had left his children alone, abandoned, in ran down motel rooms, without any contact for days and sometimes weeks. How he had felt absent, even when he was physically present, and how Dean could never do enough to feel enough for him.
It made him ache, but he had promised himself to never make anyone else feel this way. And maybe, just maybe, this little wonder he had come across was supposed to be his salvation.
“Dean, I have to tell you something.”
Somehow, the way Ellen said it, made Dean stiffen. A strange mixture of regret and hurt crossed her exes.
“It’s about your daddy,” she added.
“And about Y/N.”
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
If Sam had tried to read the different emotions that were crossing his older brother’s face right now, he would have given up as soon as he had started.
But one thing was certain, they were many, and probably none of them were good.
They stood in front of the wooden door to their last room.
Your room, to be exact.
And they stood there for the second time today, to be exact.
Maria had pointed them the numbers of the bedrooms where Roy Kendall’s friends lived, they had paid each of them a visit and asked them questions about the deceased.
None of those interrogations had proven to be useful to them, though.
Also, funny enough, it turns out that Cassandra Claire and Y/N Winchester’s room happened to lay just across the hallway from each other.
But when Sam offered to move on to her after finishing Cassandra’s questioning, Dean had not-so-smoothly avoided his question and decided he was in desperate need of some lunch.
Which is why, now, they were standing here, staring at the old wooden door with filled stomachs and angel Castiel in tow - who had decided to join them after all.
Said angel now leaned in closer to Sam and not so silently whispered, “Is he- frozen? Shall I wake him?”
Dean snorted and shook his head, as if Castiel’s words had actually woken him up from the sort of trance he had been trapped in.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, still talking into the direction of the - apparently very intimidating – wooden door.
Sam raised his eyebrows, fully aware that his brother couldn’t see him. “Well then,” he said, extending his hand to the door. “Knock.”
Dean threw a murdering look over his shoulder at his little brother and took a deep breath in, shook his shoulders.
Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew this had to be difficult for Dean, but he also wanted to get all of this over with. He could think of more fun things than spending his entire day in an orphanage, investigating a murder. Also, his suit was starting to get itchy.
The sound of Dean knocking at the door felt like a salvation. “Agents Shield and Stark and …” He threw Cas a look, “… Miller. We’re here to ask you some questions about the death of Roy Kendall.”
For a second, it was quiet. Then, “It’s open.”
The voice from inside made a chill run down Sam’s spine. He couldn’t imagine what his brother felt. But even if Dean was falling apart inside, he didn’t let his face show any of it.
Dean’s heart twisted with the door handle, as he pushed the door open and entered into the room. After him, Sam and Castiel entered, and Dean closed the door behind them again.
The room wasn’t big, but it had been decorated to be comfortable. In the middle of the wall to their right, a twin-sized bed with unified colors was placed, a small bedside table next to it.
To their left was a tall wardrobe that almost reached the ceiling, and under the window on the wall opposite them stood a nice desk.
And there, shuffling through some papers, stood a young teenage girl, with her back turned to them.
“Sorry about the mess, I-“ Dean’s heart skipped a beat as you turned around.
You hadn’t changed, not a bit, but had grown so much. The roundness in your features, like with all children, had gone away as you grew older. You had changed your hair, and your voice was different, but it was so unmistakably you that Dean needed a second to catch himself.
He feared his feet would buckle under him, as you looked at him with wide open eyes, those eyes that he remembered looked so much like your mother’s.
You felt your whole world tumble around you as you looked at them. At him. Your heart was speeding in your chest, a feeling spreading in your stomach as if you had been sucker punched.
This couldn’t be real, there was no way. But then again, there was no reason why it wouldn’t be. There were more epic scenarios you could have come up with to reunite with your … family. And nevertheless, you had stopped having dreams like that a long time ago. You had given up on hoping a day like this would come.
But now it was here, apparently, and it was so unspectacular, it was almost funny.
They walked in here, after years, in fancy suits and badges, wanting to know about- what exactly was it they wanted to know about?
You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, gathering yourself.
“What are you doing here?” Compared to the chaos inside of you, your voice sounded calm and collected, almost devoid of any emotion, and a part of you was proud.
Sam cleared his throat. You noticed he looked older.
Well, no shit. But more … drawn, from his experience. Trauma, maybe. You hadn’t been aware of much when you were a child, but that their work took a toll on them, that had been unmistaken.
And Sam’s eyes held a story that seemed as tragic as it seemed muddled.
“We heard about Roy Kendall’s death,” he answered.
Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. They had heard about Roy. Did that mean they were here to-
“And we’re here to find out what killed him.”
What?
“What?”
“Yeah, we, uh-“ Sam shifted his weight awkwardly, “We don’t think it was a … natural death.”
“Well, no shit.” Roy’s chest had been cracked open. You were no coroner, but even you knew that couldn’t exactly be filed under the case of natural deaths.
Now, Dean took a small step forward, trying his best to hold eye contact with you, and your shoulders subconsciously stiffened.
“Y/N-,” he started.
“Dean,” you shot back.
And that wort was like a punch in his guts. Dean felt physically sick. But how could he expect any different really?
You noticed him stumbling slightly at the word, a look of hurt crossing over his face.
Good, you thought.
A part of you wanted to hit him in the chest, scream at him until your voice was raw, Why did you do this? Why did you leave me? When did you stop loving me?
But in the end, you didn’t.
You would rather die than give him the satisfaction of breaking down.
Why you thought he would feel satisfaction at your hurt, you didn’t know.
“So, Roy,” you simply said, something to break the pressing silence in the room.
Sam nodded. “Yes, exactly. We, uhm –“ He pointed to the third man you had never seen before, “and Castiel, we wanted to ask you a few things about him.”
You glanced at the guy in the trenchcoat, who raised his hand to do an awkward little wave. “Nice to meet you.”
“Too,” you said.
There was a silence again, until Dean took the floor. “So, he was one of your friends?” He asked, “That Roy kid?”
People had been doing it for days, yet something about them talking about one of your best friends in the past tense made your stomach turn with uneasiness.
You hummed in agreement.
“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam said.
“Stick it,” you bit back, and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Sam and Dean exchanged a look.
“Did your friend mention anything … out of the ordinary happen, before he was killed?” The third guy, with the trenchcoat and the weird name which you had already forgotten, asked.
You clenched your jaw and something about the way Dean pressed his eyes shut in exasperation made you believe that this guy’s bluntness was something quite common.
“No,” you simply said. Trenchcoat frowned.
“Are you sure?” Sam asked, taking a slight step forward.
“Yes, I am. Roy never said anything about anything strange that would be in any way valuable to your case.”
“What do you mean by that?” Dean questioned.
You shrugged. “What I said.”
“Y/N, any information you can give us about Roy’s behavior before he died is extremely important and could really help us,” Sam urged.
Something about the way your name slipped off his tongue, with that sense of familiarity and normal, made your skin itch.
You took a deep breath and cleared your throat. “Well, I mean - he just mentioned that he was having those … terrible nightmares all of a sudden.” You shrugged. “Like I said, nothing that would be worth writing down.”
Sam did it anyways.
Dean tilted his head and looked at you quizzically. “Why would you think his nightmares were unusual? I mean, everyone has bad dreams from time to time.”
You shifted your weight uncomfortably. “Yeah, I know, but it’s just …” You paused. This was stupid. “It’s stupid, really, but – Roy doesn’t usually dream.”
Didn’t, you corrected in your head, but the word didn’t make it past your lips.
Sam and Dean looked at each other.
“And it was just strange, because he was having these nightmares frequently, or rather this nightmare, because it was always the exact same,” you keep rambling on.
“What was it about?” Dean asked.
You swept your hand across your forehead. “I don’t know, he wouldn’t talk much about it. Just said that it was like the worst day of his life replaying over and over.”
Dean nodded. Sam frowned in interest.
“Do you know what that was? The worst day of his life?”
You shrugged. “The day he lost his parents, probably,” you said. “The entire house burnt down right in front of him. He made it out, they didn’t.”
Your voice was quiet and pressed, still feeling bad about sharing such an intimate part of Roy’s history with those … strangers. A nagging part in the back of your mind kept telling you he wouldn’t – couldn’t – mind anymore.
Sam’s pen kept scraping over his notebook, and Dean threw a glimpse over his brother’s shoulder. As you watched them, your gaze fell on trenchcoat-guy, who was still positioned in the corner of your room, just a few steps behind them.
He was observing you with interest, blue eyes staring back into yours as if he was looking directly at your soul. Something like a chill ran down your spine.
The man tilted his head, as you diverted your attention back to Dean and Sam. His brows were furrowed.
Cas recognized you. He didn’t know where from, but you looked so weirdly … familiar. Your features, the shape of your face. They way you talked and moved.
“Your boyfriend is staring at me weirdly,” you mentioned to Dean, as you caught the man’s gaze again.
Dean turned his head and looked at him, then back to you. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”
You lifted your eyebrows and made an ‘Ah’ sound. Trenchcoat was getting weirder by the second. But at least the guy had stopped his creepy staring. For now.
“Look, I don’t want you guys here. But I understand that your presence is necessary in order to catch whatever it is that’s killing my friends. So, you just do your thing, look around a bit, kill something, and then leave. Both of you.”
With a look at the third guy in the trenchcoat, you added, “Three.”
Dean avoided your eyes, but Sam nodded jerkily and cleared his throat again. “Yeah, we uh … we understand that.”
He straightened his coat and turned to leave the room. “Thank you for your help for now, really. We’ll get in touch if we need anything else.”
You nodded simply, even though you didn’t exactly know what to make of that idea.
As Sam and trenchcoat-guy made their way to leave the room, Dean took a small step towards you and pulled something out of his suit jacket.
“And if there’s anything else you might remember or see, you can always give us a call.” You stared at the small paper he had handed to you. With dark blue pen, a phone number was sloppily scribbled on it. The edges of the paper were uneven, it had probably been ripped off a bigger sheet.
You pursed your lips and nodded.
“Yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say. Thank you wasn’t really in the cards right now. Dean cleared his throat and stepped back with a nod. Then, they left the room one by one.
“Have a nice day,” Sam said.
“You, too.” The answer came automatically. The door closed behind them with a click, and you were alone again.
The small paper suddenly felt incredibly heavy in your hand.
When Dean stepped through the threshold and out into the hallway, he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. He took a deep breath like a man starved.
The sick feeling in his stomach still lingered.
He didn’t even wait for the click of the closing door before he started making his way to the exit, trusting that his brother and Castiel would follow.
His fast steps echoed over the hallway, when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder yank him around. Dean was staring into the eyes of his younger brother. He shook his arm to let Sam’s hand harshly fall off.
“What?”
Sam didn’t say anything, and Dean just glared at him. It was Castiel who spoke up first. His head was tilted, eyebrows scrunched, and a curious tone in his voice.
“She is your … daughter.” It wasn’t a question. Cas had figured out the root of all of Dean’s hesitation – to come here, to stay here, to investigate. All because of one person, that he knew was so close to Dean Winchester, but yet way too far than two people with their natural bond should be.
“What gave it away?” Dean turned to Cas. His tone was bitter. “The attitude or the way she hates my guts?”
Castiel looked him up and down.
“She is so similar to you,” he stated matter-of-factly, completely ignoring Dean’s sarcastic response.
Dean exchanged an annoyed look with his little brother, who simply shrugged.
“All right, now that we’ve cleared that up,” Dean gruffed and made his way down the hallway again, “Let’s go.”
He trusted that the others followed him quietly.
When they reached the gravel path that led from the small castle to their car, Sam picked up his pace to catch up with his older brother. “Dean, I’ve been thinking.”
The man scoffed. “Oh, don’t hurt yourself like that, Sammy.”
“I’m serious.” Sam halted next to his brother and pulled him to a stop with a firm hand on his shoulder. “And I think, maybe… we should sit this one out.”
The way Sam said the last bit was careful, and Dean tilted his head as he turned to his younger brother. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying, maybe this case is too personal for us, Dean. Maybe we should let some other hunter take care of it.”
Dean shook his head. “No way. This is the first time in years that I get to see my daughter, I will not just throw this away.” He lifted his index finger to point it at his brother.
“Well, what exactly is it that you want to do, Dean? It’s not like the two of you have the strongest father-daughter bond!” Sam scoffed and his arms in the air.
Dean started walking towards the impala again. “I know, and that’s why I want to make things right with her.”
“What for, Dean? Just so we leave her here, again?”
"I don’t know!” Dean whirled around in fury as he yelled the words. He slumped his shoulders.
“I don’t know, okay?” He said, his voice was smaller now. “Look, let’s just … let’s finish this case. Give me some time to figure things out and then we will decide.” Dean peeled himself out of his suit jacket and tossed it in the backseat of the impala. He slammed the door. “But first, let’s save some lives.”
Sam shook his head. “Alright. Whatever you say.” He matched Dean as he opened the door to the back and tossed his jacket on the leather seats.
“By the way, where’s Cas?”
Sam threw a look around them. He was right, the angel was nowhere to be found. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he zapped to the motel again.”
Dean frowned as he pulled open the front door. The hinges squealed. “We need to have a serious talk with him about that. Can’t have him disappearing on me the entire time.”
Sam frowned. Dean meant them, right? Couldn’t have him disappearing on them the entire time. Us.
Right?
Sam decided to shrug his brother’s strange comment off for now and got in the passenger’s seat.
“We have to go there anyways. Do some research,” he said.
Dean hummed and started the car. Sam could about assume what that meant. The gravel gnarled under the Impala’s tires as they drove off.
Back alone in your room again, you sat on your desk chair as your playlist of favorite songs blasted through your headphones. Dark ink started covering your thighs, where you were drawing on them with your pen as you had placed them on the surface of the desk.
The past few minutes, your mind had been insanely occupied with processing what the actual fuck had just happened. Because. Well. What the actual fuck had just happened?
When they had knocked on your door, you had expected the normal questioning, something that Cass and Finn had been talking about anyways.
When you turned around, just to stare at the face of Dean Winchester, your mind had gone fully devoid of every thought ever formed.
The typical “heart slipping into your pants.”
It felt as if you had worked on autopilot, not even coherently remembering what you had said to them. Had your reaction been an appropriate one? After years of imagining this exact scenario, in all ways and forms it could’ve played out, you not being able to form a simple sentence had not been one of them.
In afterthought, maybe you should’ve punched Dean.
Maybe that would’ve been the appropriate response.
The sharp sound of a knock at your door made you startle. You pulled your headphones off your ears and turned the music off. Those things were great, but in all those years they had never quite managed to overpower the sounds around you.
Maybe that was why you were still allowed to wear them all the time.
“Who’s there?” You asked loudly into the room.
“Me.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck? How was there not a single normal person knocking on your bedroom door today?
“Who is me?” You asked again.
The door opened just the tiniest bit, creaking in the process, and through peeked the head of the third man that had accompanied Sam and Dean earlier.
Trenchcoat guy.
“It’s me,” he repeated.
You frowned. “Uhm - come in?” You invited him and lifted your feet off the table.
Trenchcoat guy carefully shuffled in through the gap in the door until he stood in your room, awkwardly, and his stiff posture made him look so out of place, it was almost funny.
When he didn’t seem to plan on doing anything more than eyeing the bookshelf on the other wall, you decided to speak up.
“I’m sorry, but I think I forgot your name.”
Slowly, he turned his attention back to you, as if he had now just remembered that you were there. “I’m Castiel,” he answered in a deep, gravelly voice.
You raised your eyebrows. “Ah. Right.” Another beat of silence. “Are you, like - Dean’s boyfriend or something?” You asked.
Castiel frowned and tilted his head. “Me and your father are not romantically involved in any way whatsoever,” he reassured you.
“Ah,” you said again. Then, “Did Dean send you?”
Castiel shook his head, almost offended at the implication. “After our … conversation, earlier, he figured you were not too enthusiastic to see him. That is why only I am here.”
You swallowed hard. No, that wasn’t true.
“He’s damn right.”
Castiel nodded.
Then it was quiet again. “Is there … anything you need?” You dragged out, unsure of what he was planning to do in here exactly.
“Well, no, not specifically, I just - wanted to talk to you,” Castiel said, though he seemed not too secure about his purpose himself. “About your father.”
“Dean,” you corrected, but were sure Castiel didn’t miss how your shoulders stiffened at it. The man in the trenchcoat frowned and dipped his head lightly.
“Yes, your father.” He repeated.
You shook your head. “He’s not my father. He’s just Dean.”
“As I understand it, you were conceived through him and your mother having sexual intercourse, therefore-“
“Okay! Thank you,” you interrupted him and raised your hand to sign stop. “What do you want?”
Castiel took a few steps closer to you, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor as he seemed to look for the right words.
“I fear your father- Dean,” he corrected himself with a look in your direction, “does feel very bad about what happened between you and him.”
You pursed your lips. “So? Did he tell you that?”
Castiel looked sheepish. “No,” he answered honestly, “But I know your- him. Just because he does not like to talk about his feelings does not mean that he does not feel them.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Let me ask you something, Castiel,” you said. He nodded. “Anything.”
“Do you know at all what happened? Between me and him?”
Again, Castiel looked away. You did not know this man. You did not know what his history with Dean was, or with Sam. But you knew that he knew nothing.
“No.” That one word confirmed it.
You bit the inside of your cheek.
“Then - excuse my choice of words - but you have no room to talk. And if Dean wants to tell me something, he can always do that himself. In person. He’s here anyway.”
Castiel nodded. “Alright.”
It was silent again, between you and him, until Castiel took in a sharp breath and leaned forward into something close to a bow.
“I’m sure they await me,” he explained. “Goodbye, Y/N.” He then turned around to open the door, but paused mid his action.
“You do look a lot like him, you know?” He said.
That’s it.
“Out,” you ordered him harshly and Castiel walked through the door, closing it behind him.
You had, in fact, ended up helping Cass study for her upcoming exam. Well, what means help, you had asked her questions and she had to answer them correctly - which worked expectedly not so well.
“I can just play the dead friend card,” she had joked, but you knew that she was actually actively considering it.
In that moment though, you had just skipped over her remark and continued asking her about the digestive system of a Baird’s beaked whale.
It was already late at night when the two of you finally hugged goodbye.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “You helped a lot. I’ll forget it all until tomorrow morning, but I do appreciate your effort.”
You smiled at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll nail it. Or at least not fail.”
She laughed. “You think too highly of me, Y/N.”
For a few moments, nobody said a word. “I never asked you,” Cass eventually started, “are you okay?”
You took a deep breath and shifted your weight. “Considering the circumstances, I guess. You?”
“Same thing,” she said. You laid your head back and stared at the ceiling. “It still feels weird only being three people,” you realized.
“Yeah,” Cass agreed quietly.
A few beats of silence passed, until you got yourself back together and shook your body as if to shake off your grief.
“But whatever,” you sighed. “Can’t change that now, can we?”
You looked at Cass and she hummed with a dull shrug, seeming lost in her own thoughts.
She absentmindedly opened her bedroom door, but just as she wanted to disappear into the room, you grabbed her arm to stop her for a second.
“By the way, about your nightmares,” you said, “maybe you can take some pills against that, if it gets too much. Unregulated sleep is probably worse than no sleep.”
Cass managed a tired smile. “Will try, thanks. Goodnight babes, love you,” she threw you a kiss.
“Love you too, good night,” you said back and smiled at her, waiting until she closed the door to enter your own room.
You didn’t know what woke you up. The glowing numbers of the digital clock on your nightstand showed it to be somewhere around half past three. Really not your usual wake-up time.
Just as you rolled around in your sheets to get your missing hours of sleep in, you heard strange shuffling outside your door. Perking up, you realized it sounded like the overlapping chatter of voices, and shoes pounding over the smooth floor.
Yeah, no way you would be going back to sleep now.
Especially not with the uncomfortable feeling that had settled into your stomach.
Stumbling a bit, your joints not quite awake yet, you trutted over to your door and creaked it open slightly.
The white light burned your eyes at the start, as you slipped out of your room and were met with the sight of multiple people fussing around not that far away.
The uneasy feeling only got worse, as you realized two things at once: The people were first responders, firefighters, to be exact. And they were all gathered around the open door across the hallway to yours.
Cass.
You moved on autopilot, as your feet carried you closer to the scene, eyes not leaving the gaping black hole that was the entrance to your best friend’s room.
“What happened?” You asked the closest paramedic next to you, a young man with brown hair and dark gear. It didn’t help much, because his voice faded out into the back of your head, as movement began to settle over the group.
The paramedic gestured his hands, as he talked to you, though that was not at all what had grabbed your attention.
You could only look at her, as she was lying sprawled out on the stretcher that was being wheeled out of her bedroom.
Cass.
But it wasn’t Cass, it couldn’t be. Dark grey plastic was wrapped around her body, covering her features as one of the firefighters that pushed the gurney zipped the material closed.
A body bag.
You felt bile rise into your throat.
Who put a seventeen-year-old in a body bag?
She wasn’t supposed to be there. What was she doing in there.
She had a biology exam tomorrow. She was supposed to join you at breakfast. In just a few hours. She was supposed to still lay in her bed and sleep, fast and sound.
Lay in her bed. Not on a moving gurney. Her bed.
You had laid in that bed. Just a few hours before.
The exam.
Breakfast.
Dark grey plastic.
Body Bag. A body. Dead. A dead body.
Dead. Dead. Gone.
Gone. Gone. Gone. Dead.
Like a distant echo, you still vaguely registered the young paramedic talking to you; he came to an abrupt stop when you bent over and threw up on his shoes.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Sioux Falls 2009
The soft music that sounded through Grandpa Bobby’s old house reminded you of Auntie Ellen’s Roadhouse.
It made you a bit homesick, but for a while now, whenever you asked Dad if you could go there again, he just shook his head and said that it wasn’t possible.
That’s also the reason why you’d been living with Grandpa Bobby for very long now, he had told you.
Auntie Ellen and Jo came to visit sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. But you saw Dad much more often, and you liked that. You missed him whenever he went out and saved people.
Grandpa Bobby had told you that it was very important, what Dad and Uncle Sam did. That’s why you never complained when they stayed away for long.
Grandpa Bobby said they saved lives. Like firemen, he said. Or Sheriff Jody.
Auntie Ellen and Jo came over for a visit today. Dad had said that they were here to help him and Uncle Sam take care of something, that’s why they had to leave later.
Jo was playing your favorite boardgame with you. You had missed her. She was still very pretty. You knew your Dad thought that too.
“Alright,” Dad said, walking through the threshold that connected Grandpa Bobby’s workroom and the dinner table where you and Jo were currently playing. “It’s time to get this little Lady to sleep.”
You pouted at him.
“But Dad, I still want to stay up and play with Jo!”
Dad raised his eyebrows and threw a pointing look at his watch.
“It is already way past your bedtime, kiddo. And I heard tomorrow is a big school day?”
He was right. Tomorrow, you started your first singing lessons with all your bestest friends. Not all of them as best friends as Jo was, though.
Your shoulders slumped.
“Can I at least say Goodbye to you?”
Dean’s gaze went soft as he looked at you. He knew how hard this was for you, how he left all the time and came back for only such short periods. But he wanted to make this a better world for you to grow up in. And when all of this was over, and it would be tonight, hopefully, then he would allow himself to settle down and spend all the time he could give with you.
“Of course you can, my little love.”
Dad crouched down and lifted you up into his arms.
“Dean, Jo!” Came Auntie Ellen’s voice from the study, “We’re ready!”
Dad threw you a mysterious look as he stepped into Grandpa Bobby’s workspace, where he and Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam already stood lined up.
You noticed the camera set up on a strange construction.
Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam smiled when they saw you.
“You don’t mind a small addition, do you, Ellen?” Dad asked, and Auntie Ellen shook her head.
“Of course not!” She smiled, and made space for you and Dad to stand next to her. He was still carrying you in his arms, supporting your weight with his hip.
“Alright, on the count of three, all smile in the camera!” Uncle Sam said.
“One, two, three!”
You giggled when Dad tickled your stomach. You wanted to see the picture right now, but Grandpa Bobby had told you it would take a while to develop.
Enveloped in bear hugs from Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam and Dad, to say goodbye to them, you finally agreed to go to bed.
“Dad?” You asked him, as he went to close the door behind him. Dad turned around and looked at you, snuggled into the warm blanket with your favorite stuffed animal under your arm.
“You’ll come back soon, right?”
Dad smiled at your words. “Of course I will, sweetheart. And Uncle Sam, and Auntie Ellen, and Jo. All of us.”
“You promise?”
Dad pressed a kiss into your hair.
“Don’t worry about that, baby. Sleep well.”
Even years later, Dean Winchester still carried an old photograph in his wallet, of a brunette mother, a blonde daughter, a father figure, and two brothers.
Though, one of them wasn’t looking at the camera, but rather at the small child he held on his side, his hand on her stomach as she blindingly smiled a carefree smile into the camera.
His own was dreamy as he watched her, and yes, for that moment, he dared to say, maybe even carefree as well.
༺ 。 ° ୨❀୧ ° 。 ༻
Now
Cass’s room was never quiet. Whether she was blasting music or playing guitar, singing her soul out in the shower or watching a move obnoxiously louder than it had to be.
Cass’s room was never quiet. Especially not as it was now.
The silver streams of light reaching through the window made her bedroom almost look so soft and inviting, as you stood there, observing, not quite in the hallway but not exactly in the room either.
It was macabre, what you saw. Not because the room looked so terrible, no, because it looked so … normal.
None of the bookshelves were tumbled over, or paper sprawled all across the floor.
The loose decoration items weren’t lying disheveled everywhere. No signs of a fight. A physical one.
The bed wasn’t made. Cass never did that.
The room looked so normal.
It looked so right.
So why wasn’t she?
“Y/N, sweetheart,” The sound of the familiar, comforting voice of Maria Whitlock reached your ears and made you slowly turn around.
Even through the blur of unshed tears in your eyes, you could make out the two familiar figures standing behind her.
“There’s someone here to talk to you.”
You blinked away the tears and caught Dean’s gaze, and for the first time since you had seen him again, his features looked so soft and merciful, towards you, it had the power to almost shatter your heart.
And you hated yourself for how much you wanted to be comforted by him, be held in his arms like the small child that once had been, only seeking safety with her-
“What are you doing here?” The question came out harsher than you had expected it to, almost an accusation. But neither Sam nor Dean did flinch at your tone.
“We wanted to talk to you.”
“Why?” It was obvious why. They knew, you knew, they knew you knew.
“I think you know about what,” Sam said, the softness in his voice grazing your stuttering heartbeat like a soft breeze.
Dean gestured in the direction of your room.
“In private.”
You didn’t want to speak alone to them. Then again, for the past almost-decade, it had been everything you could’ve wished for.
As you settled onto your bed, both Sam and Dean taking it upon themselves to find chairs to be comfortable, you felt like a small child again.
Looking at Dean, there was a familiarity that you needed, it was grounding, and you hated that it was. His presence, which had felt like home, and like safety for so long, being everything that you craved these past few days made your skin itch, because he still felt so right.
And you still felt so safe with him.
In a matter of seconds, you stood there and turned from a young woman into a small child, that wanted to throw herself in his arms and let him tell her that everything would turn out to be alright, because he was there, and he would look out for you. No matter what happened between the two of you, that had not changed, and you didn’t know what to think about it.
Sam was the first one to clear his throat. Of course he was.
“How are you feeling?”
Half-heartedly, because that was all you could muster right now, you raised an eyebrow at him. At least he had the decency to look a bit ashamed of his question.
“We’re sorry for your loss.”
Surprised, you turned your head to look at Dean. His green eyes were soft with sincerity.
“I don’t know how much she meant to you.” He glanced at Sam. “But I can imagine.”
You swallowed hard and looked back at your fumbling fingers again.
“Yeah, she was – she was great.” Your voice broke mid-sentence and you sniffled.
You cleared your throat. “Uhm, but – anyways, that’s not why you’re here. Am I right?”
Sam and Dean exchanged a look, that could be regret as much as it could be pity, and then turned back to you.
“We’re sorry. But if we want to catch whatever is doing this, we need to have all the information,” Sam apologized.
You nodded. You already knew what they were going to ask, so you saved their time and jumped straight to the answers.
“There was nothing – unusual.” You rubbed your eyes. “She was okay just yesterday, she was- I helped her studying biology, we-“ You interrupted yourself.
Sam threw you another pitying look.
“Is there a chance she might’ve had nightmares too? You know, like Roy,” Dean asked you.
You threw your hand in the air. “Yeah, I guess,” you said. “Didn’t really think that much into it. You know, considering what happened.”
Dean bit the inside of his cheeks and gulped. “Right.”
It was quiet again. The brothers looked at each other one last time, before Sam stood up and fixed his suit jacket.
“Alright. We’re gonna leave you now.”
Please don’t.
You nodded.
Sam stretched his hand out to reach for you, but hesitated mid-air and pulled his arm back again.
“Whenever you need something,” Dean said meaningfully, before he stepped out the door, “Call us.” Call me.
You hummed absently.
The click of the lock drowned the bedroom in a deafening silence again.
Night came sooner than you thought it would. Sleep didn’t.
You thought, with the exhaustion that had been dragging down your bones all day long, it would only be a matter of time until exhaustion claimed you.
Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone from your nightstand and opened up your chat with Finn.
With a sting in your heart, you realized that the last text conversation the two of you had had, had been more than a week ago.
Before all of this started.
Your keyboard clicked as you typed out the message.
hey
The answer came almost instantly.
Hey
can’t sleep either?
No
Your thumbs hovered over the buttons as you thought of what to type next.
I’m sorry we didn’t talk the entire day
It’s okay
It’s not like I came to see you either
would it be terrible to ask how you’re feeling?
Everyone’s been asking that
Oh, how you knew.
But to be honest
I don’t know
First Roy now Cass
Hasn’t reached my brain tbh
Feels more like a dream and I could wake up any second
I know what you mean
You paused for a moment, before you decided to send out the next text.
I’m still waiting for her to waltz into my room at 6 in the morning because she wants to get some mini donuts at breakfast before they’re all gone
You could practically hear the snickering laugh of Finn’s, as the icon told you he was typing out his next message.
Or letting my Alexa play the most random songs
I swear to God I’ve heard less sexual content in actual porn than that one Nicki Minaj song
first of all, it was cardi b, you pig, and
second that song is legendary
she was right to show it to you
A short while, you didn’t get an answer and you were almost afraid that Finn had either fallen asleep or that you had said something inappropriate, when the familiar ding made your screen light up.
We can catch up tomorrow
You know, maybe it would help us both
I know we haven’t been the same since all of this started, but I would really like us to be
Now more than ever
A heavy tug clamped around your heart at his words
you’re right
let’s talk tomorrow
Alright
Goodnight Y/N
good night finn
Sleep didn’t come in the first second after you plugged your phone on the charger, or even after you turned around to face the other wall.
But, as you laid on your back and felt the comforting arms of exhaustion grab after you, you had a feeling that it would’ve been worse if you had not talked to Finn.
Meanwhile, in the motel, Dean was slamming his third book this evening shut and tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of “absolute useless crap that nobody needed and was a total waste of time”. The name had been his idea.
Sam didn’t even look up as his brother stood up with a screeching from the wooden floor as he slid the chair back, and started pacing around the room.
“I hate this,” he mumbled under his breath.
“How is it even possible that, everywhere we look, there isn’t even the smallest hint at what we might be chasing?”
Demonstratively, he picks up a book from the pile they brought back from the library, and lets it fall on the desk again.
“Not to mention that we’re completely wasting our time here reading through this absolute crap, and we’ve got jack squat!”
The paper rustled as Sam turned another page.
“I already told you, Dean,” he muttered, eyes still concentrated on the faded ink of the book. “There was nothing online, so we had to go old-school.”
Dean kept muttering under his breath. “This is ridiculous.”
Sam rolled his eyes and placed a new book where his brother had been sitting a few minutes ago.
“If you want it to go faster and we can catch this thing, sit down and get to reading. Research doesn’t do itself.”
Dean was still cursing under his breath when he reached the second chapter.
The loud chatter of multiple conversations, accompanied by faint music playing in the background and the occasional clinking of glasses or beer bottles was an all too familiar mix of noises for you.
The light in the Roadhouse bar was still a warm-toned white, and the men and women all towered over you in lengths. Immediately, the feeling of home engulfed you.
You were looking around, searching for the familiar set of colorful crayons, where had your Auntie Ellen put them? You were bored and wanted to draw a pretty picture of the horse you had seen this morning.
Squeezing through the people, they all made way for you when they realized who wanted to get past them, you tried calling out for Auntie Ellen or Jo, but no tone left your throat.
A panicked feeling settled in your stomach.
Then, you spotted a tall figure just a few feet away from you. They were wearing a cool leather jacket and had their back turned to you.
You made your way over to them. You didn’t know why, but somehow you knew that this stranger could help you.
When you had almost reached them, they suddenly started moving and walked away. You wanted to cry after them, but you still couldn’t speak.
You moved your legs as fast as you could, running after them, but the people in the bar suddenly got more and more, always shoving and not making room for you anymore.
The person still hadn’t shown you their face, you could only see their back as you fought to get to them. Then, they walked through the door out of the Roadhouse.
With one last push, and a protesting yell that didn’t leave your throat, you rushed after them into the light.
With a creak, the Impala’s door swung open, and you shuffled your feet out of the car until they hit the gravel.
Dad had offered to open the door for you, but you were a big girl already, you could get out of the car on your own.
When you turned around to ask him what you were doing here, you faltered.
The Impala was gone. So was Dad. And Uncle Sam. You looked around, but they were nowhere to be found. Your breathing quickened as you realized that you were alone, somewhere you didn’t know, on stoney ground with only your bunny slippers. You didn’t even have your favorite stuffed animal with you!
“Hey, let’s go,” you suddenly heard a voice say, and turned around to see a girl with black hair stand in front of you.
Suddenly, as you had just been looking up to her, the two of you were now eye to eye. She just stared at you.
A name popped into your head.
Cass.
That’s weird. You knew a Cass. And then it hit you.
Your best friend. Roy, Finn, Cassandra. Sam and Dean.
But Cass was dead. She couldn’t be here. Looking around, you noticed that the scenery around you was blurry by the edges.
Weren’t you standing on a pathway just now? Why were you in a cafeteria?
This wasn’t real, none of it. It was a dream.
Harsh dread clawed itself into your heart like iced water. You had to get out of here. How did you get out of a dream?
You knew it, you had done this before, with your nightmares. You had to die.
You moved your feet, tried running away, but the floor wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried, you didn’t move an inch, it’s like you were stuck.
You began to panic. This couldn’t be, there had to be a way for you to get out.
The next thing you knew, you lost the ground beneath your feet, and everything was black. You were falling.
You felt your organs being lifted by the air pressing you up, felt your heart pump so hard you were afraid it would jump out of your chest.
There was nothing around, only darkness, only empty.
No, no, no.
You wanted to scream, but your vocal cords were cut. Not a sound escaped your lips.
You had to get out, if there was nothing around you, how could you die?
You screamed without a sound.
If this was your dream, why couldn’t you just shape it the way you wanted?
The next thing you knew, there was light around you, and you were running again.
“Dean, look at this.” Sam slammed a massive book under Dean’s nose, dangerously close to Dean’s freshly filled coffee. Reflexive, Dean pulled the cup a few inches away.
Sam placed his finger on one of the open pages of the book. “Here,” he said. “I think this could be it.” Dean leaned forward to read.
You had landed on a road, a highway, judging by the many cars around you. This time, you actually managed to run somewhere, even if a lot slower than you usually would. Like treading through water.
It felt like you were chasing something, but you didn’t know what it was.
“If this is really it,” Dean said, when he finished reading, “Then we have a big problem.”
You did your best to remember your original plan. Right now, you were on a stripe of green next to the busy road. You had to change that.
Sam nodded heavily. “We need to get to Saint George’s immediately.”
Sam grabbed his jacket, but Dean didn’t move an inch, still staring at the handwritten words on the old paper in front of him.
You used all your strength to tread to the left, where cars were rushing from both sides over the street.
“This thing basically feeds off of bad experiences, right?”
Sam nods.
It was a red car that did it. You saw it coming as you made a beeline over the highway. As you noticed the headlights speeding towards you, for a split second you asked yourself, “What if this isn’t a dream. What if this is real.” You didn’t feel the impact when the car hit you.
“Then that means-“ Dean’s head shot up so fast Sam feared his brother would get whiplash.
“Y/N,” Dean breathed out.
Your heart was still beating rapidly in your chest when you officially woke up. The memory of the nightmare was still rushing through your minds, pictures playing behind your eyelids.
You had a hard time breathing, your chest felt as if it was carrying a hard weight that caged in your lungs.
You forced open your eyes to get yourself a glass of water. You were met with two yellow glowing orbs staring right back at you, merely inches away from your face in the darkness of the room.
You couldn’t stop the terrified scream that erupted from your throat.
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oooh guys, only one chapter to go! what are we thinking? do you have any ideas on what the monster could be? and what do we think about cass and finn? comments & reblogs are always appreciated, see y’all in the next part!
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honeybeefae · 9 months
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pls do the sexting prompt (nsfw obv) but i cant pick which bat boy bc i wanna read it for them all so u pick :)
Also this is such a fun idea i cant wait to read them all!!
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Passing Notes (Bat Boys x Reader)
BINGO: Sexting
(Okay so obviously we don’t have a phone but we can do it the old-fashioned way ;). I figured I’d do each bat boy since I couldn’t choose either so take your pick or take the lot! Also, Azriel’s took a different turn for sexting but I hope you guys like it? I didn’t want to repeat the same prompt that I did for Cass! Enjoy!)
WARNINGS: Smut
RHYSAND
You were in the library with at least three different books scattered across the table. It was late and you knew your mate was waiting for you in bed but you needed to get this done. You were so close to finding the answers you were looking for in regard to some myth, it was within your grasp so you were going to stay up until it was solved.
A small note appeared in front of you, right as you went to mark something with your pen and you smiled and shook your head.
How cruel to leave your mate alone and cold.
He was such an Illyrian baby. You almost didn’t reply, not wanting to entertain his theatrics, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. 
If you are that desperate for company I’m sure Cassian wouldn’t mind joining you.
It vanished into thin air and you went back to your book, your eyes narrowing as you began scribbling until the note appeared once more. What had you started?
Cassian wouldn’t be keen on the company I wish from you, darling.
You bit down on your bottom lip and crossed your legs. He was in one of those moods and you knew you soon would be as well. The two of you had a very hard time keeping your hands to yourself and when you were working like this, your mate made it his personal mission to distract you in the best way possible.
Your pen hesitated over the paper as you wondered if you wanted to get into this with him but when you saw the image he sent down the bond of his cock in his hands, you folded quickly. 
It looks like you’ve got things taken care of on your end, my Lord. What exactly would my purpose be?
A rush of heat went down to your sex as you shifted in your seat, unable to focus on what was in front of you. He took longer than normal to respond and you couldn’t help but imagine why. At this rate, you would be running to your bedroom before he could even finish his sentence.
I want to make sure you’re taken care of, Y/N. I know that ache inside you is growing, I can feel it. Let me ease it for you.
The sound of your chair scrapping backward was loud as you allowed your hands to wander underneath your pants, finding the wetness of your cunt as you slowly rubbed yourself. Two could play at this game.
It was tricky to write with one hand occupied but you managed, proud of your work as you sent the paper back as well as a sly picture of where your fingers currently were to him.
How would you ease it? I can picture many, many different ways but my favorite is with your head buried between my legs and your cock in my mouth.
Rhysand gave a harsh tug on the bond and you giggled breathlessly, knowing it was a warning to behave. You responded by sending him another image but this time it was of you riding him from earlier, your entire body on fire from how desperately you needed him. 
A soft breeze swept over you as you opened your hazy eyes to find your mate looming over you, his cock standing proudly while his jaw was tight. You smirked, crooking your finger to beckon him forward. He immediately fell to his knees and lifted your legs over his shoulders, kissing the inside of your thigh as you ran a hand through his dark locks. 
“Wicked woman.” He purred, giving you a smoldering look before diving head-first into your cunt. You gasped and arched into him, your tasks long forgotten as you welcomed the distraction.  
===========================================
CASSIAN
“Does everyone understand what we are going to be doing?” Feyre asked while standing at the head of the table, making eye contact with the entire group. They all nodded and you were doing your best to keep up but your mate was making it increasingly hard to do.
Cassian sat beside you, his aura oozing with nonchalance as he slipped a small piece of paper to you. You frowned, trying not to roll your eyes as you opened it underneath the table like you were in school.
I know what I am going to be doing ;)
You coughed to cover up your snort, shooting him a playful glare before shaking your head. Feyre glanced at the two of you but Elain asked something that thankfully got her attention off of you. 
The pen in your hand flew swiftly across the page as you wrote your response, sliding it back over to him and folding your hands in your lap.
I know where you’ll be sleeping if you do not pay attention to our High Lady, General.
He shifted in his seat, a small smirk on his lips as he wrote something down. You sighed, realizing your mistake in playing into his antics while he slid it back over to you again.
How can I pay attention when all I can think about is your hair in my hand, you gripping our headboard, and your cunt gripping my cock?
A small whine was building in the back of your throat as he turned the heat all the way to a ten. You crossed your legs and bit down on your bottom lip, the meeting losing some of its importance as you contemplated a response.
Your pussy was starting to develop a heartbeat as you reread his words over and over in your mind. He was watching you, one of his hands covering his mouth to hide his grin as he got you hook, line, and sinker. You were screwed. 
Fuck you.
It wasn’t a clever comeback but he had pulled out an ace when you least expected it. He always had this effect on you, to make you speechless and melt like butter in his hands. The voices of your friends started to get fuzzy as you moved in your chair, biting back a moan at the friction. 
No, princess, that’s your job. 
His reply was instant and your cheeks grew hot from both frustration and lust. You didn’t want to reply to him, hoping that by ignoring the situation you could regain control, but Cassian was one step ahead of you.
One of his hands ‘innocently’ fell to your thigh, the tablecloth hiding his dark intentions as he immediately traveled up to your panties. There was already a wet spot forming and you took a huge gulp of your wine when he thrust a thick finger into you.
It was nice but not what you wanted, your sex aching to be filled with his cock. You raised your hips slightly, trying to get him to either go deeper or add more, but he kept that teasing pace. His finger curled and found your g-spot easily, rubbing it while biting his lip as your hand gripped his arm tightly. 
“Y/N!” Feyre shouted, breaking you from your spell as you shot straight up and winced. All eyes were on the two of you, knowing looks and smirks from some while Azriel and Nesta looked annoyed. “Look, I know the mating bond is new-”
“I’m so sorry, Feyre, and everyone,” You blurted out, squealing when Cassian picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.
“You are so right, Feyre. I think we might go fix that situation right now so we don’t cause any more distractions. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” He called, winking at Rhys who gave him a knowing look and eye roll. 
“That’s not-” She tried to argue but the two of you were already outside and in the air, his arms tight around you as you giggled loudly. You were both going to be in trouble tomorrow but for tonight you were going to enjoy each other.
===========================================
AZRIEL
The dress Mor had lent you was a scarlet red with a plunging neckline and a slit so high you were nervous that you were going to end up flashing someone. It was something you wouldn’t normally wear but with your mission at the Court of Nightmares, you had to dress the part.
You were currently seducing one of the higher court members, his ego so easily inflated that you were a little bored with how easy it was. All he wanted to do was brag about himself, his wealth, and his ties. He wasn’t particularly interesting but he was harboring a book in his room that your friends were stealing as you speak.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you here before. I saw you were visiting with our High Lord. Are you a friend of his?” He asked you, his hand grazing the back of your waist.
A small shrug and some made-up story were enough for his prying to be sated, though the same couldn’t be said for his wandering hands. You masked your frown, trying to cover it with a yawn until you felt something slither around your ankle.
It was cool and firm, caressing your skin as it traveled upward while you looked down in confusion and alarm. You didn’t connect the dots until your eyes found your mate, Azriel, standing in the corner with an evil glint in his eyes.
Of course. He was jealous.
As if on cue you felt him reach out through the bond, tugging on it with frustration that had you placing a hand over your chest in surprise. The man in front of you raised an eyebrow, his lips curled over the rim of his glass.
“Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost.” 
“I'm fine,” You replied, sending a warning look to your mate when the man took a sip of his drink. “Just a chest pain, nothing more.”
“Well, as I was saying, my father,” The man continued on as he had been all night, not noticing you bite down on your lip as those shadows slid further up your thigh until they were teasing the outside of your underwear.
Your body flinched from the contact as you tried to control your facial reactions. Azriel was risking the whole mission with this stunt but fuck it felt good.
“Are you even listening to me?” His voice was curt as you tuned back into whatever he was blabbering about. “You know there are plenty of other females-”
“No, no, I'm so sorry.” You rushed to soothe him, grasping his upper arm just as the shadows squeezed through the fabric of your panties to rub your clit. “I think the wine might be disagreeing with me is all, I feel flushed.”
He surveyed you, taking in your heated cheeks and glazed eyes before a dark look graced his face. His nostrils flared and you realized with great horror and embarrassment that he could smell you. And he thought he was the reason.
“If you were so desperate, young lady, all you had to do was ask. I can smell you.” He whispered into your ear, suddenly too close for comfort as Azriel continued playing with your body like a violin. “Shall we go back to my room?”
Before he could even lay a finger on you your mate appeared behind you, his stature menacing as he shot daggers at the man. You subconsciously moved closer to Azriel, your body practically vibrating as you swallowed a needy whimper as he picked up the speed on your clit.
“Is there a problem here?” Azriel asked lowly, dangerously, which actually had the man taking a step back. “I couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were getting.”
���Is that a problem for you, Illyrian?” The man sneered, going to grab your arm to pull you into him. “Your owner needs to put his leash back on you.”
A thick silence followed his comments as Azriel stepped toe to toe with him, his wings flared in a show of dominance before Rhysand stepped in to cool down the situation. He looked at you for answers but your mate started pulling you through the crowd and out the doors the minute his High Lord took over. 
“Azriel, Azriel!” You whisper-shout, having to basically run to keep up with his strides. “You just ruined the whole point of tonight! I had it under control and I don’t even know if they’ve had time to-”
You gasped when he suddenly turned down a dark hallway and shoved you against the wall, a large hand over your mouth as he rutted into you. His cock was straining against his pants and when you whined underneath him, it flexed in need. 
“You didn’t have it under control. You let that man touch you, to think that he was the reason you’re soaking wet under that dress.” Azriel snarled, his lips inches from yours. “I’ll be damned if I let any other man think they have claim to you. And I’m going to show you what happens when you forget that.”
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tblsomedoodles · 10 months
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Finally get to post my Clara doodles! : )
oh and here's some more b/c my internet was down and i really like drawing her (i got attached very quickly lol)
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Ok, i should probably explain a little more about Clara before i go any farther. (i'll put it under a break b/c, most likely, it will be long)
Clara is, essentially, Donnie's adopted daughter. She's not biologically related to the boys in any way. Donnie found her, unhatched, and brought her back to an incubator he had set up in his lab specifically for her.
(i couldn't see Donnie, who hates his powers, going out of his way to create the next Seer. He would rather risk breaking the cycle or whatever than create a child specifically for such a purpose. But, if he found the child who was going to be their replacement, he would not leave them to die. or worse, risk them surviving and growing up without the safety of the vault or someone to explain their powers.)
Donnie found her at a zoo, where a very dedicated zookeeper had been doing their best to take care of what animals they could. One of which was a pair of Indian Peacock Softshell turtles who had laid eggs, one of which got mutated by a leftover oozqueito before ever hatching. That would soon be Clara. Donnie showed up the day the zookeeper died, collected her, and brought her back to the lab so she would continue to grow.
Donnie did consider her to be his child, even though he knew he would never properly meet her. He spent a lot of time searching through visions, watching her grow up in the only way he could. He insured she would want for nothing. Knowledge, gear, whatever he could foresee her needing, he made sure it was ready for her. just as he did for the rest of his family. (he might hate his Seer powers, but he couldn't deny they were useful when it came to preparing for his death)
So Clara grew up in the care of her Uncles (mostly Leo but Mikey and Raph definitely helped) as well Cass and April. (She actually calls Cass, Mama Casey b/c that's what CJ calls her. Also b/c, early on, her visions would upset her to the point where only being around CJ would calm her down. So Cass said that if she was going to watch them at night this often, she was claiming Clara as her kid too. Thus she did.)
Clara and CJ's powers strengthened pretty early (apocalypse does that). It upset her at first, but as time went on, she got tired of crying over it and decided to be angry at them. Her standard way of dealing with bad visions as a teen, was to beat up a training dummy until she either felt marginally better and then sought out CJ, or until CJ found her there.
personality wise, Clara is loud and brash. she is also snarky as hell and has little to no verbal filter. (she's essentially an 03 or 12 Raph lol) She absolutely hates feminine clothing with a passion and whenever Mikey or Raph tried to dress her up as a child, she and CJ would switch clothes as soon as the two looked away.
i think that's it for now? i can't think of anything else really. Other than maybe that i've figured out a way i could add her character (minus the seer powers) to the cannon apocalypse without upsetting the plot much. But i'm not sure i'm going to do it since it's very tragic and i'm not sure i want to put Donnie through that.
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astromechs · 2 months
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me like "lol cassian would have a really bad paranoid time if he was ever stoned out of his mind, wouldn't he," and then i put that into my wider college au; this is in no way serious also on ao3!
Inside his chest, his heart is beating fast.
Has it always been like that? At the moment, Cassian thinks, it's hard to remember a time it hadn't been. The pounding feels constant, and it's so loud that it's drowning out all the other voices in the room, along with the terrible music that's been playing from Han's phone from behind the couch all night in the living room of the apartment Jyn and Leia share, and —
No, his heart hasn't always been like this, of course it hasn't — but the way it's beating has to be a sign of something bad. A heart attack? Is that what's happening to him? Even if it's rare, it's not unheard of in someone his age, and now that he's, as Kay would say, become a statistic, he needs to think fast. Act fast.
Needs to grab his phone.
With a shaking hand and breaths that become increasingly shallow, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans, and has to fumble, has a couple of false starts, before his phone is finally in hand. It's only one button that he needs, and they make it easy to find on purpose….
He stares at his lockscreen, and clarity suddenly hits him, with all the force of a brick being dropped onto his head.
The problem isn't in his heart, or anything medical about him at all. No, the problem is the phone — and it's a problem for every single person in this room, for every single person on the planet. Because everyone knows about surveillance technology, how advanced it's gotten and how advanced it's getting more and more everyday, how no one can ever be sure just who's listening, how anyone can sell a collection of data from an entire person's life story for the right price. It happens everyday.
It's happening right now. The phone is the problem.
His fingers curl tightly around the phone in his hands, just like they had around a baseball, once, before the sport (or really much of anything in the way of sports) hadn't taken as a hobby. Without any further thought, he hurls it across the living room; it makes an arc in the air before plummeting to the carpet.
No, the physics of it hadn't been the best, but he's having a little trouble seeing straight and holding up his arm without it wobbling on him. Which — now the phone knows his weakness.
All the phones know his weakness.
So it's better for all of them to be crushed under his feet, isn't it? Starting with the one he'd brought with him.
He moves to stand from the couch, but the world wobbles under his knees in the instant of his first attempt; his head is cloudy, his vision starts to swim. As he sinks back down onto it, heart pounding and breath shortening again, the only thing able to get through the noise is a soft hand on his thigh, and an even softer voice in his ear.
"Cass?"
Slowly, he turns on his side until Jyn's wide green eyes are all he's looking into. Her other hand, the one that isn't still resting on his thigh, moves to his face, the warmth of her fingers a welcome balm against his cold, clammy skin. Her mouth twists into a frown.
"Oh, fuck," he can hear Han breathe out from somewhere across the coffee table. "He's one of those."
Jyn shifts away from him then, her hand dropping back down to her side, and he feels, more than sees, her tense, in the way she always does just before she spits venom. "What a brilliant fucking observation."
"Can you both just stop it for once?" Leia's voice nearby — about ten seconds from snapping, if he had to estimate.
Neither Luke nor Bodhi have anything to add, but their wide, worried glances in his direction are obvious. They probably don't know about the phones, he thinks — and he has to tell them; if the phones are listening and something terrible finds them because he hadn't told them, it'll be all his fault. He can't let that happen, because too many things have been his fault already.
But his heart's pounding and his throat's dry, and he can't manage to get his voice to speak. It feels like everything's spinning around him when he's completely still, and he just can't distinguish much of anything in the noise. He scrunches his eyes shut once, and then again.
Nothing helps.
A hand takes his, tugging him toward the edge of the couch. He gives it everything he has not to let it move him. This is important.
It tugs at him again. He stays still.
Even through his current hazy grip on consciousness, he knows Jyn's irritated, frustrated huff of breath like it's an extension of himself. Still, he doesn't move.
"Come on. You can stand. I've got you." She sounds like she's literally gritting her teeth, and she probably is, but still, he doesn't move. "We're gonna go in my room, okay? And you're gonna sleep this off, and you're gonna be fine."
Cassian shakes his head fiercely. Which makes the room spin around him all over again, so he stops that motion in its tracks. "No." It's only after scrunching his eyes shut for a moment that he's able to think a little bit again, able to meet Jyn's gaze. Able to rasp, "I have to tell them. About the phones."
Because she has to understand.
Her brows knit in confusion as she looks back at him, and he doesn't know how long they stay there like this, in this silent standoff. Eventually, though, she turns her head away from him even as her hand is still gripping his, and his eyes follow her as she sets her attention on Han across the coffee table.
She doesn't say anything, but he sees her mouth form words: I'll kill you.
It's all silent, because… clearly she knows about the phones, even if he hasn't been able to say anything.
Of course she knows; she's smart and great. And also beautiful — which doesn't have anything to do with the other things or define who she is to him, it's just true and he likes thinking it.
So, actually? He can let her lead him anywhere, even if it's out of the room and out of sight, because she'll know what the right next move is.
Later, probably several hours later, when he'll stir awake with a headache like nothing he's ever known but unable to move on account of Jyn collapsed on top of his chest, snoring softly, it'll occur to him that something had tasted a little off in the brownie that had been suggested for him to try.
And later still, it'll occur to him that following any suggestion coming out of Han Solo's mouth would never be destined to be anything but a terrible idea.
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t4tmagicians · 15 days
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Bruce apologizes to Harley as he fastens her wrists behind her. She barely seems to react, staring into the still-smoldering embers of the warehouse.
"Arkham again?" she croaks, when police officers approach them. Bruce mutters something affirmative, and all of a sudden, he's offering to drive her to the asylum himself.
She slumps in the front passenger seat of the Batmobile, streaked with soot and ash and tear marks cutting clean lines down her face. She looks tired.
"He's gettin' sick of me." She explains, no prompting necessary. Bruce can see the weight on her shoulders. They pull up to Arkham, the gates opening for the Batmobile without question.
"He threw you out a window a year ago. What's different now?" Bruce asks, keeping his voice soft. For a moment, he sees no difference between every tired young woman he meets on the street, beaten down by the world, and the diamond-patterned woman next to him.
"He don't laugh when I get hurt no more." Harley sighs, like it's a great tragedy. It probably is, for her. Bruce tempers down the tiny spark of hope in his chest.
"Maybe explore other options." Bruce offers. Harley snorts in laughter, loud and sudden.
"What other options are there?" She says, voice light and airy, but Bruce can hear the fear in it. What other options are there for Harley Quinn?
Bruce pats her on the back when she's in her cell at Arkham. She curls up dejectedly on the bed, and he mentally schedules a visit to her.
.
"I'm worried about Harley." Tim brings up during breakfast one day. "She's barely tried to escape Arkham at all this week."
Bruce passes Cass the salt, and bumps his visit up. "Hm."
.
"Bats." Harley greets, leant against the wall of her cell, shuffling playing cards. She's allowed to wear makeup, plenty of others do, but she has decided to forgo it. She looks almost naked without dramatic black shapes lining her eyes.
"Harley." He's quiet for a moment. "Any reason you're still in here?" They both know she could leave if she wanted to, she understands the security too well to be truly trapped.
"Where would I go?" She spits, tearing the two of hearts apart. "Joker don't want me, family acts like I'm dead already -" she sighs, all the vitriol draining from her. "Not pretty enough to turn tricks, I reckon."
"There's a bed in the Batcave." And Bruce leaves after five more minutes of stunned silence.
.
Harley is camped out on the cot they use for medicinal purposes. Someone's thrown a soft red blanket over her, and she's definitely using a spare cape folded up as a pillow. She still looks tired, but less so.
"I'm glad she's here." Jason says, as they cut off their motorbikes as quietly as possible. "I'm - I'm not exactly giddy to see her, y'know? I'm just glad she's here."
"Yeah," Bruce agrees. "Me too."
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nukaberries · 1 year
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Ahh im so happy to find a blog that writes new vegas! I got into it recently and its so fun! Sometimes i get tired of hearing the radio especially if im travelling way too much, so i just start singing any song that pops into my head or talk to the companions like they're real pfft
im also way too cheery for my own good lmao, game devs knew what they were doing when there was no push button for running, you know how many times i ran into mines and kept running 🧍🏽
I kinda wanna know how the companions would react to that? A Courier who practically bounces as they walk and if its not the radio or them talking to fill the silence, its them singing as they shoot radscorpions !! Couriers not half bad at singing either! They mostly sing quietly while walking the mojave for obvious reasons but on a night they feel especially safe, they'll be singing so well people will wonder why they're not making holotapes for mr new vegas to play (esp if they say the radio gets annoying at times)im sorry this is long im just excited to see a new vegas writer that hasnt left their blog 🤧
I'm SO late to this one, I'm so sorry! But I'm so glad you're enjoying New Vegas! It's tied with Red Dead Redemption 2 as one of my favourite video games! And I'm exactly the same when I play New Vegas, the radio's never off and I have no spatial awareness. I hope this was worth the wait!! (Sorry again lmao)
//
Companions React to a Loud/Chatty Courier (Includes: Arcade, Boone, Cass, Lily, Raul and Veronica)
Arcade Gannon Admittedly, he's a little intimidated at first. He agrees to go with the Courier since there's no point in him sticking around Freeside where he's not helping anyone. He just doesn't realise he's taken up with the most obnoxious person in the West. He's not annoyed by any means, in fact, the singing is actually quite a nice change from the radio. The constant talking is a little overwhelming for him at first though, as someone whose trying his best to keep his past with the Enclave a secret. He knows the Courier means no harm, and he feels a little guilty having to shut down their questions about him, knowing that they only mean well. They do bring out a different side to him he didn't know he had and he sometimes finds himself humming along to either the radio or Six's singing.
Craig Boone At first, he's annoyed by the Courier, but it's not like he has anything better to do. They're his best chance at wiping out the Legion, even if their incessant talking and singing is a little too much for him. He doesn't have a problem with them, but he prefers silence to having to begrudgingly answer someone who talks at a million miles per hour. The only time he'll really voice his complaints is when he actually needs them to be quiet, such as if they're trying to stealthily take out enemies, thankfully the Courier seems to know when to turn off their radio and stop singing. Eventually, the constant chatter and the singing - that he'll never admit is actually enough to rival the radio songs - become background noise he learns to appreciate. He'll never join in with the Courier's singing, but he tries his best to answer their questions and respond to their comments.
Rose of Sharon Cassidy Cass is another one who can't stand the Courier's chatter and singing at first, however, she's more than willing to voice this. A few times, she actually hid the Courier's Pip-Boy while they slept, unfortunately for Cass, they'd already memorised all the lyrics to Johnny Guitar and sung that on repeat for most of the day. It was starting to reach the point where Cass was certain they were doing it on purpose. The singing she hated, but the talking? She didn't mind the talking. In fact, Cass actually looked forward to the talking, she often struggled to make friends, considering her problems with whiskey, so it was nice to just make conversation sometimes. Sure, she'd still keep trying to put an end to the singing, no matter how good it was, but the talking Cass could live with.
Lily Bowen The first time Lily started travelling with the Courier, she was thrilled. Everyone in Jacobstown took life a little too seriously and being with the Courier was a refreshing change for her. Unlike most of the other companions, Lily actually loves the singing and the talking. She'll even suggest that the Courier tries their hand at singing on the Strip, the Tops and the Atomic Wrangler are always looking for new acts after all. Lily will even try and sing along with them, before realising her voice doesn't exactly compliment or rival the Courier's, but so long as they encourage to join in, she always will. The talking is just as lovely for her, it's nice to know that the Courier still cares about their grandma, even if they are growing up so fast.
Raul Tejada Never in all his years of being alive has he met someone like the Courier. It was one thing that they managed to deal with Tabitha, but the fact that they did it with Radio New Vegas playing on full blast from their Pip-Boy? Raul wasn't sure whether to be impressed or absolutely terrified. He leans more towards the latter once he starts travelling with them, struggling to keep up with the Courier constantly asking him questions about where he's from and what his life was like before the war and how he turned ghoul. Like Arcade, Raul finds it overwhelming and eventually asks politely if the Courier can calm down a little with all the questions, thankful when they actually oblige. He learns to love the Courier in spite of their loud habits, even being happy to fix their Pip-Boy when it stops letting them connect to the radio stations. It's against his better judgement, but they seem grateful for it.
Veronica Santangelo She immediately bonds with the Courier over their love for Radio New Vegas. Veronica wishes she had her own Pip-Boy so she could listen to the radio in her own free time, since lugging a radio around the Mojave Desert doesn't seem like the best idea. She absolutely loves the Courier's singing too, insisting that they don't forget her once they make it big in some bar in New Reno. She also tries her best to be the Courier's backup singer when wandering the wasteland, however, she accidentally stumbles up on a lot of her lyrics and trying to pronounce "Agua Fria" at the start of Big Iron quickly becomes the bane of her existence. Veronica also loves to gossip with the Courier, about her love life - and the Courier's if they're willing to disclose it - and all her least favourite things about her commanding officers in the Brotherhood. Whenever she travels with Six, Veronica manages to get a lot of off her chest
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sunshinebingo · 1 year
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When It Rains - Part 2
Written for Acotar Writing Circle
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Gwyn and her friends just arrived at their favorite camping spot. Although everyone is eager for a little rest and relaxation, Feyre advises that they 'work first, play later' and get the site set up before they all head down to the lake. Cassian is working on putting Gwyn's tent up when he accidentally pokes a hole in the side with one of the poles.
Gwyn insists that it will be fine, but with rain in the forecast, will she be able to keep dry? Or will she need to seek alternate shelter?
Check out Part 1 by the lovely @headcanonheadcase and the Acotar Writing Circle Masterlist for more amazing fics!
Read on Ao3 here
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Azriel could not believe what was happening. Gwyn, who he has been crushing on ever since their first camping trip together, was sleeping next to him. She was in his tent, in his sleeping bag, wearing his hoodie and, most surprising of all, he had his arm around her. Azriel had never liked the rain more.
Although there was some space left between them, Azriel tried to calm his breathing so gwyn would not feel how fast his heart was beating in his chest. His eyes were closed but there was no way that Azriel could sleep. He wanted to savour every second of this moment.
A few minutes later, a flash of lightning illuminated the whole tent before a loud thunder roared outside. Gwyn let out a gasp and startled from the sudden noise. Azriel instantly pulled her closer to him, making her back connect with his bare chest. He has been so excited by the thought of sharing a bedroll with Gwyn that he has forgotten to put his shirt back on after he had removed it to give it to her. Gwyn tensed a little at the proximity and Azriel worried that he had gone too far.
‘’You’re okay gwyn,’’ he whispered in her ear. His voice was barely audible through the sound of the heavy rain hitting against the tent. When she relaxed at his words, Azriel let a sigh of relief. Gwyn shivered slightly when his breath caressed her ear. He did not know if she was cold or if it was him who was having an effect on her. Azriel wished that it was because of him.
‘’Are you cold?’’ he asked.
Gwyn shook her head slowly. Azriel moved the hand that was settled on Gwyn’s stomach a little higher. He felt her take a deep breath in before she pressed her body closer to his. Azriel cursed internally when her ass pressed against his cock. He must have been dreaming. It was not possible that Gwyn did that on purpose. It was not possible that the woman of his dreams was doing this to him.
Azriel had never mustered the courage to admit his feelings to Gwyn. He had been struck stupid when he first saw her. On that first trip, Cassian and Rhys had teased him endlessly about the way he was looking at her the whole time. And when they got back home after, Cass and Rhys had told him of how stupid he had been for letting her go without even asking for her number. Rhys, always the more romantic of the trio, had dramatically told him that he might have missed his chance with the love of his life.
Azriel never told his brothers that he might have been the one to mix up the tents on that first trip. And he would certainly never admit that he might have done it on purpose either. Come to think of it, all the couples that started to form after that was because of him. Because Azriel had been too stupid to talk with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life and had prefered to risk losing a tent in hope that he would see her again.
Saying that Azriel was elated when he saw the potential love of his life again was an understatement. He would never forget when their gazes had locked across the restaurant when Feyre and Rhys had organised a dinner for all of them a few months after the camping trip where they met the girls.
Since then, with every moment and conversation he had shared with her, Azriel’s attraction for Gwyn has quickly turned into a massive crush, which has then turned into him falling head over heels for her. While everyone of their friends started to mingle and get coupled up, Azriel has loved Gwyn from afar. He has been there for her as much as he could so that Gwyn would hopefully understand that she meant a lot to him.
Gwyn was the most extroverted of the two of them. So when Azriel saw that she was not doing anything that indicated his feelings were mutual, he had thought that maybe she was not inclined to be more than friends with him. Azriel was fine with that. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
Every time he was near Gwyn, he tried to convince himself that he would be fine with just seeing her happy, even if that was with someone else. He did not need to hold her hand or kiss her nose when she scrunched it when she laughed. He would be fine even if he could not brush back the strands of her hair that often fell in front of her face. He would be fine with watching her looking sexy as hell in her bikini on her Pegasus float and not run his scarred hands up those beautiful legs of hers and start doing unspeakable things to her that would end in Gwyn moaning his name while she would come undone.
But what was happening between the two of them in his tent might be proving him wrong. Maybe he had been blind all along. Maybe he had not read the signs correctly. He had thought that all her casual touches had been just friendly and nothing more. Maybe it was more. Azriel recalled all the times that she would rest her head on his shoulder when they sat together. Or when she would ask him to tie her hair back for her. Azriel had always been torn between feeling hopeful that these little gestures meant that Gwyn liked him as more than a friend, and telling himself that he was probably delusional for thinking that she could be in love with him too.
‘’Az.’’
‘’Yes,’’ he whispered back.
‘’Are you asleep?’’ Gwyn placed her hand on the one that he had around her.
‘’No.’’ Azriel willed his body to relax at her touch. But then Gwyn started tracing the scars on the back of his hand. Every brush of her fingers went straight to his cock.
‘’Thank you for letting me sleep here.’’
Azriel moved his head to the place where her neck met her shoulder and placed a soft kiss there. Gwyn shivered again like she had before and this time, Azriel was convinced that it was not because she was cold. In fact, even through the thick fabric of his hoodie, he could feel the heat emanating from her. Azriel wanted more than anything to slip his hand underneath her clothes and touch her bare skin.
‘’You don’t have to thank me Gwyn,’’ he said.
Gwyn turned around to face him, her wide teal eyes traveling from his eyes to his lips. His body was screaming for him to lean down and claim her lips. Azriel started to lower his head towards her and Gwyn also moved to meet him halfway. Their lips were almost touching when thunder roared again, this time louder than before. Gwyn squealed and buried her face in his chest. Azriel wrapped both of his arms around Gwyn and held her tight to him. She did the same with him by wrapping one of her hands around him while the other rested on his chest.
He kissed her forehead. ‘’It’s alright Gwyn,’’ Azriel told her. He rubbed one of his hand up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her.
Gwyn started to take in deep breaths, holding them in before exhaling and he recognized it as one of the breathing techniques that she used along with Nesta and Emerie whenever they exercised together.
‘’You are safe,’’ he whispered before he kissed the top of her head. Her hair was still wet from the rain.
Gwyn’s breathing calmed a few minutes later. Azriel thought that she had probably fallen asleep. That was until her sweet voice called for him again.
‘’Yes,’’ Azriel answered.
‘’Are you asleep?’’
‘’No.’’
Gwyn remained silent for a moment, as if she was thinking about what to say next.
‘’I can’t sleep.’’
Azriel cupped her cheek with one hand and lifted her face so she would look at him.
‘’I can’t sleep either,’’ he told her.
Gwyn’s eyes travelled from his eyes to his lips again as she bit her own. As much as he wanted to be the one biting that lip, Azriel knew her enough to know that she was nervous. He slid his hand to her waist and pinched her. Gwyn startled and Azriel laughed.
“You are an ass.” Gwyn narrowed her eyes at him but she was clearly amused.
“As you said Gwyn,” Azriel smirked, “takes one to know one.”
Another flash of lightning and another loud thunder made Gwyn startle again. Azriel kissed her forehead and started rubbing his hands in circle on her waist. He was still amazed that he was able to be so close to her.
“Can we play a game so I don’t think about it?” Gwyn asked.
“Sure.”
The two of them liked to play little games. Sometimes it was silly games that Gwyn invented just to get him to laugh. Often it was more competitive things that ended with them almost fighting and their friends being exasperated with them.
“Let’s play never have I ever,” she suggested.
“You go first.”
Gwyn buried her face in Azriel’s bare chest. “Never have I ever shared a bedroll with someone.”
“Not even Nesta and Emerie?” Azriel asked her.
“Not even them.”
“Me neither,” Azriel admitted. He felt Gwyn smile where her lips were touching him.
“Never have I ever admitted to someone that I like them,” he paused and added, “a lot.”
Gwyn lifted her face and looked at him. “Never have I ever kissed someone that I have loved for years.”
Azriel felt butterflies fluttering inside him. So much that he thought he might burst.
“Never have I ever kissed you,” Azriel whispered.
And Gwyn finally kissed him.
A/N: @headcanonheadcase I was really excited to continue your fic. The first part was great! I hope mine isn't too bad 😅 And thanks @azrielshadowssing for assigning me with this one 😊
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