#just let the man have some peace cass | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flamingpudding · 6 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 25 - "Do I look like I knew that?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Edit - adjusted the last bit a little after rereading this during my break, so that it makes grammatically more sense...

There was no warning. The moment the Waynes had stepped into the main hall of this Gala they had not been prepared for what had been about to happen. The only sign they had gotten was Damian tensing for a split second before the youngest of them booked it across the hall.

Tim and Bruce instantly attempted damage control, distracting all the high society people that had noticed it, while Dick and Jason followed their youngest. Cass had already escaped the gala to the roof before they had set their first foot into the main hall.

But again, nothing could have prepared them for what was happening.

Damian not only had seen something that caused him to sprint across the room no, their Demon Brat had gone a step further and just tackled the kid of someone else over and was now wrestling with the other boy! Holding one of the daggers they must have missed to the other boy's neck.

Surprisingly, the other kid held himself pretty well against Damian. Jason and Dick spent a good five minutes just staring when they had found their youngest, only starting to move again when Vlad Master demanded answers from his child. The apparent guardian of the kid that was currently attempting to get a choke hold on Damian before getting flipped over the shoulder, the boy flipped mid air, landing on his feet.

Before Damian could lung at the other boy again Dick grabbed him, his arm wounding around Damians chest as he held onto his youngest brother that sent quite an impressive death glare towards the other kid that just returned the glare, not with the same intensity but clearly peeved had having gotten attacked out of nowhere.

"Daniel! Explain this instant! You promised me, one gala without a ruckus!" Master was clearly not amused, hopefully Bruce had some sort of peace offering ready. Not that the man needed it, Dick thought, remembering some of the reports he had seen the man on.

The boy, Daniel, turned his glare towards his guardian. "It's not my fault this time! HE attacked me first!" Jason snorted, clearly having heard out of that statement alone that Masters apparently also had a feral kid that attacked someone at a gala before.

"This is no excuse. I know you are still grieving but you can not attack my business partner's children. Wasn't it enough that you broke Andrews Mayors nose last week?"

"He deserved it, he hit a girl in a perverted way."

"Justin Gracer?"

"Made fun of my late parents' profession."

"Daniel."

"Fruitloop."

Dick watched how Masters pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not happy with his charge. By now Damian seemed to have calmed down too from whatever idea he had gotten into his head. He was still glaring at the other kid but at least it appeared he wasn't going to attack anymore when he hissed at Dick to let go of him. He still kept a hand on his shoulder just in case.

"I am so sorry Mr. Master. It wasn't Daniel that started it. Damian, come on apologies." Dick cut in, causing the other two to pay attention and fully face them. That's when he noticed it. Daniel looked a whole lot like Damian. The older siblings shared a glance before Jason left to get the others, Tim and Bruce were still stuck doing damage control but it should only be a matter of time. What was the best way to bring it up to ask subtitle questions without appearing suspicious?

Dick was just about a question before Daniel apparently beat him to it. "Fruitloop, you did not attempt to clone me did you?"

"Little Badger, why would I do that? I already have guardianship over you."

Dick felt like he was missing something here but he also felt Daniam's shoulder tense below his hand. So that was why he had attacked. Damian thought another clone appeared. He really hoped what Masters and his Charge seid were just some ill timed joke. Otherwise the implications would be very worrisome.

"Mom and Dad didn't keep some other family relations secret did they?" Daniel then asked and Masters looked at them contemplatively. "Well Jack was estranged from the rest of his family while Maddie only had her sister Alicia and as far as I am aware you and Jasmine were their only children."

"Mr. Masters if you don't mind, would it be alright to do a DNA testing? You said Daniel's father was estranged from his family? It would be good to find out now if there is a relation." Dick ignored the glare Damian was sending him now, but this was his best excuse to get the others DNA to test if the other boy was really a clone or not. If he was then the League of Assassins must have done some serious brainwashing, and memory manipulation. This would also be the first clone of Damian that actually had a consciousness of his own.

"Doesn't explain why he attacked me…" he heard the other boy mutter as Master stared at them with narrowed eyes for a while before giving the boy by his side a contemplating look.

"Daniel has lost his family and friends in an incident recently. It would be good if we found any family he could connect with or help with his grief." The man then finally said after a moment before handing Dick a business card with a number to connect them before leading his boy away, leaving the gala for all they knew.

A week later and after a lot of discussion in their Family. The Waynes and Masters meet for the DNA testing. Though the moment Masters and his charge met Bruce both froze, Bruce in his Brucie act blinked innocently at them and asked if anything was wrong.

"Fruitloop…"

"Don't be ridiculous Daniel. I never would have attempted what you appear to be implying."

The boy pointed in at Bruce as he faced his guardian. "Look at him and tell me they don't look alike! He is like a more fit version of Dad! Like he hadn't eaten a single one of mom fudges in years! You have to have an explanation for that!"

"And how would I do that?"

"I don't know! You're the fruitloop one that had cloning equipment in the basement! Who did you buy it from? Some old fruitloop? The one you bought it from, did they try to - i don't know - clone a celebrity for themselves! The papers you had with it clearly stated that it had been used successfully once. It was a second hand bought with super old technology when I demanded you destroy the stuff!"

"Daniel, do I look like I knew that? I never looked in these papers you speak of! I just bought it as a backup plan, that I never needed a little badger! Besides the only one I would have ever attempted to clone with that time frame would have been your mother! I didn't even know your father before college! "

"Why would you buy something without looking into the papers and instruction manuals you get with it?!"

"There was no need for! Why did you even look into that when you had me destroy it anyway?!"

The Waynes looked back and forth between Masters and his charge. The more these two continued to argue the more a sinking feeling started to form in everyone present. It was Tim though that voiced everyone's thoughts as he leaned over to Bruce whispering only one question. "Are we sure there never has been an attempt of someone trying to clone you? It sounds like there had been one, years ago…"

784 notes · View notes

hanlimz · 1 month

Text

[midnight thoughts: jungwon + bad habits]

pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader (reader is jake's sibling) genre/warnings: angsty fluff (happy ending) / mentions of alcohol, vomit, some blood / idk it could potentially be a bit suggestive but i don't rly think so? wc: ~2.1k a/n: LOL cass write abt someone other than won challenge pt.2: FAILED!!!! / whtv! this had been in my drafts n then i reworked the idea into that jay drabble i posted but i still rly wanted to write abt motorcycle jungwon so here you go.. (it turns rly soft at the end bc i am incapable of writing hurt without comfort LMAOOO)

as you climb out your window to perch atop your shingled roof, a wave of cold surges up your spine, taking care to freeze each and every vertebrae on its way. your breath billows before you, the white cloud contrasting the pitch black of night. from this vantage point, you can watch all the bodies as they move in tandem, warm from the alcohol and the dancing. it's mesmerizing, the rhythmic swaying lulls you into a state of peace, a state of tranquility. paying no mind to the booming party music or the numbness blooming at the tips of your fingers, you let your eyelids flutter closed. comforted by the nothingness, you take in the scent of wet earth mingling with the air freshener you have in your room as it permeates the air. with chilled bones and a clear mind, you remain a passerby, a shadow, a ghost.

that is, until an unceremonious rumbling breeches the music blasting from your brother's speakers. the people below begin to whoop and cheer as the manmade thunder grows quiet; your brother shouts a greeting, and you're all too familiar with the person who manages to turn heads merely upon arrival. a rush of nerves tingles through your body, and you run over a checklist. heeseung, jay, and sunghoon are all presently dancing, sunoo is watching over the kitchen, and riki has been relegated to the dj booth for the night. with all other options exhausted, you know it has to be him.

craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of his crimson steed. it glints, almost menacingly, in the light of the moon. the chrome accents are like liquid silver as he dismounts and casts a myriad of shadows over his bike. jake claps him on the shoulder as he removes his matching helmet. his hair falls out—deliciously messy, perfectly tousled; it's a waterfall of silky, black strands that somehow look windblown and gelled back simultaneously. save for everyone that has continued to dance, girls and guys alike are crowding around the boy and his bike.

a cursory smile is offered to all of the faces in the crowd, but it becomes real as he turns to look at your brother. friends since they met through soccer practice years ago, friends despite their differing social circles, friends through the thick of it all. they push through the throng of classmates, acquaintances, and strangers—closer to the house, closer to you.

before they disappear beneath the awning, jake pulls him into a hug, and you can see him dig his fingers into the boy's leather jacket. "it's good to see you, man," jake says, just loud enough for you to make out. "drinks are in the kitchen with sun, i'm sure he'll be surprised to see you make an appearance."

and, just like that, the party resumes. you watch as the horde of people assembled around the motorcycle gradually disperses, and they begin to partner up again. despite not offering any physical warmth, a fire builds inside of you; small embers of memory are ignited by the nervousness that rips at your stomach. reliving each one is painful—the images that flash behind your eyes are hot, burning themselves into your mind once more. you guess that there are mere seconds left until he comes to see you, and you are proven correct when a measured knock sounds against your door. it confirms any suspicions and lays any doubt you might've had to rest.

you know all too well who this is.

the slab of wood creaks open, groaning as if aged by the cold. gazing back at him, you notice how young he looks when bathed in the warm, yellow light emanating from your desk lamp. he seems to glow, crowned with a halo of innocence, overflowing with something you can't place. this angelic countenance distracts you from the red solo cup sitting in grasp, distracts you from the fact that he is inching forward, distracts you from the movement of his lips. and, after a few moments, he is settling next to you and fidgeting in an attempt to get used to the frigid air. suddenly, you are stripped of your alien status because he is looking at you, seeing you—just as he always does.

ghosts notice ghosts, you think, daring to steal a glance in his direction. he catches you, ensnaring you with those deep, brown eyes, but he doesn't say a word. it isn't like him, really. he's an obligatory people person, a fan favorite, a crowd worker; he can have you doubled over with laughter one minute and crying the next. this irregularity is not lost on you as he continues to stare. you can almost feel the words waltzing on the tip of his tongue, and it kills you—the waiting game. it's one you always manage to lose.

"thought we agreed to take a break from each other ..." you hum, breaking the silence and turning your head away. "hm, jungwon?"

he mirrors you, and takes a sip from the cup. his impenetrable pokerface doesn't give you any hints as to what he's drinking. peeking over, you watch as jungwon answers with a nod and a sharp clench of his jaw.

"so, why are you here?" you ask, scoffing and shooting him a forceful glare. "why are you here, sitting with me in weather you hate, not saying a word? what—do you care about me, suddenly? about us?"

he prickles at this particularly harsh jab, rushing to defend himself, "i told you, [y/n]—"

"oh, yeah—you told me, jungwon. you told me about sunghoon, about how protective he is of his sister, about how he broke siwoo's nose after he found out about their relationship. you told me that you didn't want jake to get in our way, that you didn't want things to get ugly if jake didn't like us together," your tone is venomous enough to kill as you berate him. "then, after i called you on your bullshit, you told me that it was for my own good. you didn't want me to get hurt, didn't want me to walk away broken ... you talk such a big game with your motorcycle and your leather jackets, but really, jungwon? all you told me is that you're a coward."

the aftershocks of your explosion are still rocking through jungwon as he tries to process all of your words. absorbing your poison, guilt and realization wash over him; he is a coward. and, a fool for letting you slip through his fingers. his mouth gapes as he searches desperately for the right thing to say. jungwon flounders, and you take perverse delight in his struggle. all of the weight that had been crushing you is now his to bear; it feels good, but only for a minute or two. then, this parasitic love you harbor for him squeezes at your heart. the silence starts to suffocate you, balls of cotton begin to fill your throat, and the cold air is making your lungs burn. you turn to see him already looking at you, and the apology you were about to let free dies away.

his eyes are wild, frenzied almost. not in a way that frightens you, but in one that saddens you. jungwon is frantically hunting for a way to make you see how sorry he is, for a way to make you stay. he reaches out to you but flinches away on his accord, unsure of what your reaction might be. taking a deep breath, all he says is: "you're right."

as the admission of guilt hangs in the air, it is almost underwhelming. you sigh, preparing to push up from your seat and head back inside, but jungwon stops you. he grips your wrist before he is able to stop himself this time and wills you to sit once more. his hands are as warm as you remember, calloused and rough and surprisingly gentle.

"you're right, [y/n]. i'm a coward, and i don't deserve a second chance—i didn't even deserve the first one you gave me. but, god—you have to believe me when i say that i care. i care about you, about us. my stupid, fucking thoughts got in the way, and i was scared," jungwon explains, blinking rapidly to keep his tears at bay. "i used jake to hide from you, to hide from how much i loved you. from how much i've always loved you."

jungwon begins to shake—from the desperation or the cold, you're not sure. but, as the conversation dips into a natural lull, you usher him past the threshold of the window pane and shut it behind the two of you. a quietude settles between your bodies, a static that coaxes you closer while simultaneously pushing you apart. gently, you slip the tingling tips of your fingers beneath the leather of his jacket; it is replaced with a fluffy blanket before he can blink, and he relishes in the silken sensation blooming in his chest. enveloped by this newfound warmth, you ask him the same question from before: "why?"

he answers immediately, ignoring the searing pain as his blood begins to flow again, "because, i'm not good, [y/n]. i'm not good ... and, you're perfect. i'm afraid—if we go any further, i'll turn you into someone else. i'll ruin you."

you exhale sharply out of your nose, "selfish."

yang jungwon is stunned to silence; the remnants of vitriol seep like a toxic sludge into the cracks forming in his heart—a heart that he claimed to never have, a heart that you managed to steal for yourself. selfish. you called him selfish. jungwon wanted to protect you from the person you might become after being with him; he wanted to keep you away from the sight of bloodied knuckles and the putrid scent of vomit and alcohol. "i'm ..." jungwon starts, incredulity ringing clear in his voice, "selfish?"

"beyond belief," you sniff.

"wh—how?!"

"how? jungwon—who are you to decide what's good for me? who are you to tell me that i'm good ... that i'm perfect? what do you know about me that i don't?" inhaling deeply, you inch forward; jungwon unceremoniously plops down onto the pillowy cloud of your bed, and you follow suit. in this light, the halo makes a reappearance, and you swear the entire galaxy twinkles in his wide, blown out eyes. resting mere millimeters away, you whisper, "who are you to try and make me believe we aren't meant to be?"

his facade is crumbling bit by bit; walls upon walls of cold concrete are reduced to dust in the wake of your storm. falling back into the soft down of your comforter, jungwon flings an arm over his eyes. stupid, foolish—distracted by the possibility of losing you, he managed to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life. "i'm sorry," jungwon admits once more. "i was selfish. you deserve better."

"sure, i guess. if you think so ..." you begin, interlacing your fingers with his and taking away his hiding place, "but, i want you."

jungwon feels fragile in your hands. the look in his eyes is tentative, almost as though if he were to move, you would fade into a fine dust. in this moment, he is vulnerable—a turtle without its shell, a knight without his armor. there is a certain frantic hesitance you can feel as his heart beats against yours; the rise and fall of his chest is not so steady, and the rhythm is not so sure. having already done so once, jungwon doesn't want to lose you again.

you sigh, and jungwon takes in the sweet aroma of starlight mints and lemonade. "stop thinking so hard, won," you murmur. "i want you. i deserve you. i love you."

"you do?" he asks, uncertain.

"i do," you answer, resolute. "can i show you?"

when he nods, the butterflies flitting in your stomach begin to settle because this is jungwon. pressing into him, the rich taste of butterscotch and tang of beer blooms on your tongue; the sensation of your lips slotting against his is only rivaled by the victorious completion of a huge puzzle. perfect in every way—pieces fall into place, and everything just fits. jungwon is familiar, a home that has returned to you. you make jungwon know your love. so, you kiss his forehead, and you kiss his nose, and you kiss his lips.

i want you. i deserve you. i love you.

#enhypen fluff #enha fluff #jungwon fluff #enhypen reactions #; — cass writes: jungwon #enhypen #enha imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen headcanons #enha headcanons #enha reactions #jungwon headcanons #jungwon imagines #jungwon x reader

179 notes · View notes

nattblacklupin · 9 days

Text

Invisible string

Pairing: Cassian x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff

Summary: Cassian and Y/N celebrate their anniversary

Being mates with Cassian was one of the best things that happened in your life. Never would you have thought that you could ever get so lucky. Cassian was the kindest man you ever met. Never did he do something to hurt you - unless you wanted him to, of course.

At the same time, you're pretty sure that you two are really made for each other and were supposed to happen in every life. Both of you went through hell and back, yet came stronger than ever before. Remembering the times before you even knew that you were mates, you had a special kind of bond with each other.

Cassian was always with you. It didn't matter if just sitting next to you or on battlefield. If he wasn't with you, something was wrong. No one can easily force him to leave you alone. If it, of course, wasn't your wish. But even then, he would wait close to where you were in case you needed his help. He would manipulate the mountains to move if they were keeping you away from him. And mother help anyone that dares to hurt you, let's just say they never tried to do it again. Cassian gave them a big piece of his mind. No one will get away with hurting you, not when he's here.

Today was the day that marked your three year old anniversary since you officially accepted the bond. You were still freshly mated compared to your friends, but it didn't make your relationship any different - it's not like you two weren't already acting like a mated couple for nearly two hundred years.

"Hurry Cass, we aren't going to make it on time!"

You yelled at Cassian while putting on your high heels. On this special day you choose to have a date in your favourite restaurant in whole Velaris. It was where you found out about the mating bond, and since then, it became a tradition to go there on special occasions.

"No need to hurry, pretty girl. We got enough time."

You looked his way and were left breathless. Cassian really did go all out with his look today. Dark red tuxedo matched your dress like you planned. It wouldn't be you two if you didn't match in any way. He even slicked back his hair. You loved when his hair was wild and free, but this slicked back look surely did suit him too. Before you could decide to stay home and enjoy your anniversary in your bed - by doing some more pleasurable things that dinner - you quickly stood up and grabbed his hand.

"Let's go, big boy"

The flight there was fast and peaceful. You always enjoyed flying with Cassian. The comfort his arms brought you mixed with the freedom you felt when wind ruffles your hair, was something you could never get enough and you hoped with all your heart that it wouldn't go away, not now, not ever.

You sat in your favourite spot, with cassian opposite to you. He took your hand in his and smiled at you with a look in his eyes that let you know everything he was feeling. Love flowing through the bond, nearly overwhelming you with how much of it there was. But you're basking in his love, enjoying every moment of it, like it could be your last.

"Hello, what can I get you?"

Cassian and you quickly order without even paying much attention to the waiter. Both of you were too busy looking at each other like it was your first time together. The looks she gave Cassian didn't go unnoticed by you though. Being used to women giving your mate unwanted attention, you ignored it. Hoping that she would get the hint and stop before you would have to step in.

She didn't get the hint. She was insulting you while flirting with Cassian, and you don't plan on letting her go away with this. That's how you got in this situation in the first place. You stand tall in front of Cassian, holding his hand while arguing with her. You held your head high, not backing down from an argument with some fae woman that wants your mate.

"Mates don't always have to be together. He can choose someone like me. No one would probably even blame him"

"No one would blame your mate for not choosing you with how you are acting. But that's what happens, you know. Mates don't always have to be together"

With that, your hold on Cassian got tighter, and you started walking away from the restaurant. You are too busy thinking about the audacity of that waitress to even notice what's happening around you. That's why it took you by suprised when Cassian pulled you into his chest and kissed you deeply.

"Isn't it just so pretty"

You looked confused at him, wondering where still will lead off. "What?" Your voice quieter than whisper.

"To think," his lips slightly brushed yours, "that all along there was some Invisible string, tying you to me." You were the one to close off the distance first. Kissing like there was no tomorrow, like you didn't see each other for years. But there was enough time - enough time for you to fulfil all your dreams and do everything your mind thinks of.

"One single thread of gold tied me to you"

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x you #cassian #cassian acotar x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian fluff #acotar fluff

121 notes · View notes

fengxun · 1 month

Note

the lucio nation army has decided to back off (same anon as before- hiya~) and now we feast. how about some cassidy cuddles?

FIVE MORE MINUTES – COLE CASSIDY X READER

Soft is the very last word he’d use to describe himself, but you know it for sure: your Cole Cassidy is a total softie.

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader. just fluff. Cass calls you 'sweetheart' and refers to you as his partner. ~0,6k words

NOTES.⠀I'm so sorry for this horrendously late response LOL it's been a busy week. Here's a sleepy, clingy Cassidy for the soul <3

You don’t think Cole realises just how affectionate he is.

A pat on the back, a gentle clasp on the shoulder after a job well done, a noogie if he’s feeling playful. He’s changed a lot over the years, but he’s still the same man you love. He’s carefree, keeping tension off the air with his chatter. He’s close to the rookies, putting up with Hana’s teasing jabs or going through one of Zarya’s ‘easier’ regimens. He trains at the shooting range with Fareeha every Thursday. He tries to help Baptiste with whatever he can, even if he’s more distracting than helpful.

He’s not shy with physical affection—that much is obvious. He’s more careful with his superiors (as he should be, you think bemusedly) but with you?

Total free rein.

He kisses your cheek every morning, greeting you with a good morning, sugar that never fails to elicit a reaction from you. He kisses your forehead every night, holds you close against his chest as his fingers dance across your skin until you both fall asleep. He likes having his arm around your waist, loves letting your hands brush together when you walk side by side.

Soft is the very last word he’d use to describe himself, but you know it for sure: your Cole Cassidy is a total softie.

If it were any other time, you’d tease him for it, but your love for him consumes your being entirely. You let the innate desire for him to be yours, heart, mind and soul, grow stronger every time he glances your way. You want to be the only one who gets to see him like this—asleep, at peace, at home. He’ll call you a sap if you ever say these things out loud, but the redness at the tips of his ears will betray him. Much like the smile on his face will.

The morning sun shines and peeks through the gap between the curtains as the day begins its course. Cole grumbles something in his sleep, not quite ready to start the day just yet, and languidly pulls himself closer to your body. You can feel his chest against your back, rising and falling with each breath he takes. It falls into a rhythm that lulls you into a state of tranquillity, but as much as you’d like to stay here, there’s a lot of work to catch up with today.

Begrudgingly, you push yourself into a sitting position. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can rest, right?

“Cass,” you whisper, gently shaking him awake. “Get up.”

He blinks one eye open, his brows furrowed until his gaze lands on you. Relaxing and sinking deeper into the sheets, he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you back down. An endearing chuckle rumbles in his chest at the surprised yelp you let out.

“It’s our day off, sweetheart.” Sleep is still evident in his voice as he speaks. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “Work can wait.”

You sigh in mock exasperation, though you don’t make an effort to pry his arm off your waist. “You promised to help out Torbjörn and Baptiste today, remember?”

“No clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Cass.”

“Hmm.”

You bite back a smile. “You’re gonna prove Hana right, y’know. About you being a lazy bum.”

“Can’t I just spend the morning in bed with my partner?” His complaint is more playful than it is of genuine upset. With how close you are to him, figuratively and literally, you can just tell that he’s in a good mood. “Come on, sweetheart. Five more minutes.”

And his five more minutes will turn into ten more, fifteen more until someone inevitably comes to look for one of you and rings the buzzer at the door. It’s never five more minutes with him, but as he peppers soft kisses from your neck to the curve of your shoulder, you think you don’t mind spending the entire morning like this.

#anonymous #all #cole cassidy x reader #overwatch x reader #cassidy x reader #q

110 notes · View notes

via-l0ve · 8 months

Note

Hello! I've been binging your fics/imagines lately and I just can't get enough! I don't know if this was ever done before, but--

Could you do a general, platonic (perhaps mildly romantic, like how I see Dean kinda gushing over Y/N idk, your choice!) imagine on how the men (Sam, Dean, Castiel, maybe Crowley [which would be funny]) would react to Y/N being some kind of powerful angel, like that sits at a pretty high rank and has the power to do all sorts of stuff? Healing, destroying, anger being so destructive it could kill a human (but albeit a peaceful being). This angel would probably serve as a guardian to the Winchesters, or a superior to Cass or a complete surprise and maybe unlikely companion for Crowley? I imagine it'd be a scenario where they're saved last second during a massive fight, probably get to know er type deal. This sounds kind of cheesy as I ask someone else to write this but I hope it doesn't sound too weird, I almost wanna go anonymous HAHA. I know this is VERY specific but I don't wanna confuse you! It's something I wanna write out into a fic myself but the way you write would make it super interesting! :)

So sorry if this was too much, I'm very descriptive!

Angel. (SPN pref!) 🩷

a/n: stop omg. this idea is so cool! also - thank you for the kind words!! i appreciate you so much!! i hope you enjoy this!

warnings: slightly romantic!!

Dean:

Dean met you on a hunt

he was being himself and basically bleeding out, but he was still fighting

you, being in charge of the dink, had to come down and help out

when you appear, a bolt of white light strikes the ground and your voice projects through the atmosphere

“you will not hurt this man.” you say, hair blowing in the wind and eyes glowing

dean was flabbergasted, also a little scared, but also a little bit in love

eventually you just kill the entire vampire nest because they’re stupid and you turn to dean.

“are you okay?”

he’s even more confused because this angel just came down and slaughtered the threats to him and now they’re talking so.. nice.

you heal his wounds and boom. now he’s your friend

he follows you around like a lost puppy and also brags that he’s friends with not one, but two angels, and one is even more powerful and higher up than fucking CASTIEL.

as he gets to know you he knows how sweet you are and it inteigues him even more because - as i said, you’re a powerful angel who can kill anyone but you’re so nice to him, Sam, Bobby and Cas.

the first time he sees you angry he literally gets all red and falls for you

—

Sam:

You first met sam when he was basically bleeding out in a motel room

Dean had gone to get food and sam had been hiding a pretty nasty gash from him

so now he was sitting alone trying to patch himself up (and being unsuccessful)

so, you made your appearance and tried to keep him calm

you appeared and he saw you and went 👁️👄👁️

“it’s okay. i’m an angel. i will not hurt you.” you say softly, stepping towards him

sam is still a little wary but he lets you heal him

you press your fingers to his forehead and he’s all good (albeit a little scared hahah)

he always has the smuggest little smirk on his face when you get angry on his behalf

he likes the feeling of having such a powerful being watching over him all the time but it also makes him nervous because of… his past💀

addicts recover

—

Castiel:

When you came down from heaven to help the Winchesters and Castiel, he was happy to see you

he knew, despite rebelling from heaven, you wouldn’t judge him

he spends a lot of time near you

like, standing right next to you

i like to think that you have better “people skills” than him for whatever reason (it’s just funny) and he just kind of sticks to you ykwim

he thinks you’re so cool

he dosent step in to help you in fights because he knows you can handle it and kill anyone you want

he’s blushing and kicking his feet when he sees you🤭🤭🤭

absolute power couple if you guys got together like omg

but yeah

he always defends you if anyone says shit

he’s just such a cutie pie

—

Crowley:

you popped in when crowley was holding dean and sam hostage

you came into the room, eyes rolling already.

“let them go.” you said, voice sounding bored as you’d done this multiple times already.

crowley looks at you

“oh god, you again.” he scoffs

BUT he dosent even bother to argue and lets them go

which shocks the boys because that’s not like crowley

but he’s smitten for you

it’s giving enemies to lovers

but anyways

you guys have many encounters and end up talking a lot

crowley talks about hell and you talk about heaven

and he finds himself not hating you

and suddenly he wants to be around you more and learn about you and watch you be a badass angel

#love u mwah #thank you sm for this request #dean winchester #castiel x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #castiel #sam winchester x reader #crowley #crowley x reader #dean winchester supernatural #sam winchester supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #castiel supernatural #supernatural #crowley supernatural

341 notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 11 months

Text

Another Miraculous Crossover Nobody Wanted (DCxML)

In the midst of so many Batfamily/Miraculous crossovers, the thing I feel so many people forget is that the Waynes are...well...themselves.

Sure, they're awesome vigilantes. Trained in martial arts and with great mental fortitude to help them against the likes of Scarecrow's fear gas, Joker's venom, and Mad Hatter's manipulations.

...the problem is that Hawk Moth is a whole different ballgame.

He doesn't target their fears or dreams. He targets ANYTHING. Like petty annoyances. Frustrations. Sleep deprivation. Obsessions. Things the Batfamily generally try to ignore on a regular basis.

If he can akumatize and reakumatize the same man over his love of pigeons and people who feel they've been wronged over silly reasons, there's SO MUCH that could come from the complete dysfunction/emotional constipation that is the Wayne family. Remember, ANY frustration or annoyance or upset counts.

Meaning Ladybug and Chat will be having their hands full with the Waynes until they leave.

And given that Hawk Moth comes up with the silliest costumes and powers...

...the others would never let them live it down.

...

It was a beautiful day in Paris. And an absolutely wonderful vacation to the City of Love, where everything was peaceful and nothing was wrong.

Dick stood at the window looking out over the city.

Tim was on his computer doing some reports. Possibly Wayne Enterprises work, but more likely mission work.

Damien had apparently gotten tired of grumbling and was focused on sharpening his sword—which Bruce really shouldn’t have let him bring. But given the situation, he couldn’t argue against letting Damien have something that would help him stay calm.

Cass had found a magazine to occupy her time, though she seemed somewhat confused as to the male teen model that kept appearing in nearly every line.

And Jason…

…he was grinning. And watching Bruce with such anticipation, looking downright hopeful as he waited. Not helping was that he was holding what appeared to be a brand new camera, fully prepared to start recording.

Bruce knew why.

But he would not give him the satisfaction.

Because nothing was going to happen.

Absolutely nothing.

Bruce twitched.

SNAP!

And his pen cracked from the sheer amount of pressure he was putting on it. Which was admittedly an annoyance, but wasn’t that big of a deal…

…if it wasn’t the 15th pen he’d broken in the past three hours.

It was fine though.

Nothing was wrong.

He was calm.

Calm.

A muffled voice could be heard from outside despite the room being on the seventh floor of a building. Which of course was a coincidence and not because someone was actually right outside the room….and the building.

And perhaps if Bruce tried really hard, he could convince himself was just someone singing a line out of “American Pie” and not someone talking about butterflies.

No.

Because there were no butterflies outside. Because he was fine!

Not the slightest bit upset!

At. All.

“That’s thirty-three…” Dick counted.

…

…Dammit.

Bruce sighed.

“Did she come back to the roof?”

“Actually, she never left.” Tim confirmed, not even looking up from his computer. “She stopped leaving after the last incident and has just been standing there for the past couple hours now, catching them as they come.”

A long pause.

“How…?”

“Her partner has been bringing her water and snacks. And keeping watch whenever she has to leave to hibernate or use the little bug’s room.”

Bruce groaned.

Why couldn’t it be a villain? Or a fan or stalker? He could deal with those. He dealt with them all the time.

It was the well intentioned young superheroes that he had a harder time dealing with. The ones that wanted to help but were misguided in not understanding that their help wasn’t necessary.

“Gotcha!”

“Thirty-four.” Dick droned.

…no matter how many magical butterflies implied otherwise.

“Maybe we should do what the nice Ladybug hero asked and finish up our business in Paris?” Tim suggested.

“I refuse!” Damien shouted, jumping to his feet. “This villain has made a mockery of us and it must not be allowed to stand! I will not leave until he has been caught and my sword has tasted his blood!”

“Damien, we don’t kill, remember?”

“I wouldn’t kill him.” Damien said, looking away with a pout. “Just…dismember him a bit.” He frowned, consideringly. “Maybe cut off his arms. He can’t continue villainy then, right?”

Tim sighed.

“So that’s a no on going home early then.”

They heard a noise from the roof.

“Is she leaving?” Bruce asked, trying to hide how hopeful he was.

“Nope. It’s her catboyfriend back again.” Dick replied, blithely.

Bruce sighed.

“Do you think they’re dating?”

“Dick.” Bruce warned.

“Because the city seems to be really hamming up the romantic angle between the two and it’s kinda hard to not see.” Dick continued.

“Dick.”

“Even if it is kinda weird that they’re essentially shipping teenagers.”

“Speaking from experience there, Dickie Boy?” Jason cut in, cheekily.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Bruce ordered. “The goal of coming to Paris was supposed to be to deal with the emotional terrorism from Hawk Moth.”

“A little hard with all your emotional constipation there, B.”

Jason smirked.

“Or should I say ‘Justice Man’?”

Bruce twitched.

#ml fic #ml crossover #dc crossover #bruce wayne #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #damien wayne #tim drake #ml crack #ml humor #miraculous ladybug #bruce wayne is bad at feelings #jason is having too much fun #yes I'm making fun of them #I do it out of love

352 notes · View notes

hanihazeljade · 20 days

Text

Three Weeks

As the snow fell into the streets of Gotham, covering her land with white sheet, he stepped out of the plane. He shivers. He missed the deadly coldness of his hometown. The pollution never seemed to change back when he left 7 years ago. He sighed, white mist blowing out of his mouth. He will only need to stay here for three weeks. Three weeks and he will go back to Japan.

After many years of being away to his adopted family, Tim comes back to Gotham for Cassandra and Stephanie's wedding.

(CW: flashbacks, negligence, swear words, a badass Timothy)

Tim looks outside of the bus. His eyes watch the streets of Gotham. Christmas lights are on as it was 5 days away from Christmas. He watched and watched, like he always did, as classical music blasted to his airpods until the bus hit the stop to Bristol.

In all honesty, he could ask Alfred to fetch him but the man is now too fragile to his liking to be doing him favours. He rather takes the 40 minute walk from the station to Wayne Manor. He doesn’t mind the cold, he actually prefers to be freezing every single moment of his life. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the burning desert in Iraq.

With his suitcase on his tow, he started walking to the peaceful street of Bristol. The snow gently falls into his face and quickly melts but some falls into his lashes and brows and he couldn’t bring himself to wipe it off. He likes the small blur on his sight, it shows that he doesn’t have to stay vigilant in this city. Twenty minutes into the walk, he saw the Drake Manor, still in its pristine shape, hopefully. He walked as he tried to look past the gates of the once house of his, snow is piling up but he will be visiting it once he gets his stuff unpacked.

As he starts to get closer and closer to the Wayne Manor, nostalgia hits him. The good memories flood his mind. Bruce giving them a small pat or rarely hugs, Dick trying to spoil all of his siblings, Cass putting glitter bombs to the most unique places together with Stephanie, Jason joking his death again and again, Damian giving them Alfred the Cat as a stress reliever, and Alfred giving them hot cocoa on the worst days and cookies on the best.

But obviously, if it's all just good memories, he will not leave Gotham. The bad to the worst memories starts to resurface. The threat of Arkham, the throat-slitting episode, the pushing to his death story, the I choose to follow Batman rather than to be honest with you thing, the hellish training with Lady Shiva and many more that he couldn’t remember. He shook his head to remove those memories. It’s been more than a decade since that happened and he has healed already. No need to reopen old wounds.

His time in Japan definitely made him more aware that he doesn’t need other people to love him. He can just do it himself. He starts to sleep for more than 6 hours a night. He eats three times a day, sometimes with a balanced diet, sometimes just pure sodium for ramen or just straight up scooping Nutella out of the jar. He now prioritises himself over others. He works for himself and not to get approval from anyone. He is now him, just Tim. A simple Tim that loves to photograph and now be the object of his photographs.

Many things change over the course of time. He forgives the Waynes but he will never call himself one. Waynes never treats him like family, except for Cass, bless her pure heart, and he is now giving it back, the treatment of an acquaintance. Not family. Not friends. But acquaintances. That’s all the Waynes are to him now. Because god forbid that his teenage self is simply obsessed with them. He rolled his eyes on the thought.

As he was letting his thoughts wander, he finally arrived at the prestigious Wayne Manor. The gates are open so he let himself into the other five minute walk of the driveway. As he stared at the old oak wood door, he sighed, trying to compose himself as he will be in their presence for the next three weeks. After trying to console himself, he knocks hoping that it will be Alfred who will open the door for him. After a few minutes of waiting on the porch, the door opened, revealing the foyer of the Manor and Alfred standing in front of him.

“Hi, Alfred.” Tim smiled at the old man.

Alfred, still in shock but smiled back to him, “Welcome back, Master Tim.”

And then suddenly there is a commotion behind Alfred, making the two gentlemen on the doorway look. It shows Damian and Jason. Seems like the two are trying to race to see which one will get to the door first. Childish competitions, like what brothers do. Jason and Damian look at them, first to Alfred and next to Tim. And he looked back at them, giving them a gentle smile.

“Hi, Timmerly. You look different.” Jason spoke out of the blue.

“Thank you, Jason.” He said, “You look different, too.” he added. Jason has indeed changed. The white stripe of hair due to the dip is still there but the face and the body itself evolved. Jason looked taller than he last saw him, The tight wool sweater emphasises the bulk body of Jason. And that face of his, is always exceptional but more relaxed.

There he heard a cough and gave his attention to the person. “Timothy, you look alright.” Damian said, standing in his glorious 6 foot 3. His tanned skin is honeyed perfection and his build is more similar to Bruce and Jason. Green eyes looked at him like it was captivating his soul. The Demon Brat is gone and was replaced by a hulking man.

He was shocked for a fleeting second before replying, “Thank you, Damian.”

“Young Masters, as much as I like that the three of you are conversing like normal human beings, Master Timothy needs to go inside first. It is freezing out there.” Alfred interrupts them and tells Jason and Damian that he is still indeed on the porch. Jason without waiting a moment, went and grabbed his suitcase and he proceeded to go inside the manor.

Tim asked Alfred, “Where will Jason put my suitcase?”

“In your room, Master Tim. I mean, your old room.”

“Oh.” He just said as he took off his scarf and coat and gave it to Alfred, as he left the three on the foyer.

He starts walking into the Manor and walks past the library with the rest that didn’t meet him on the door. Steph and Cass are cuddling each other on the couch while Bruce is on the loveseat fiddling something in the tablet, probably about Wayne Enterprise, and Dick is on one of the bean bags that is scattered in the library. The first one to notice him is Cass, of course.

“Little brother, welcome.” She said as she reached out one of her arms to him. Her acknowledgement of his presence makes everyone in the room aware of his existence.

“Timmy!” Dick shouted as went to him and hugged him. It kinda still startled him a little bit, but he awkwardly hugged Dick back.

Bruce gave him a smile, “Welcome back, Tim.”

Steph hit his back, “When Cass actually told us that you will come for our wedding, we didn’t believe her.“

Tim touched the spot Steph hit, “I would not miss it for the world.” Then he walked to Cass, “Hey, sis.” Cass smiled back at him. “Winter wedding, really?”

“Hey, winter weddings are beautiful. And Cass will look like an angel.”

“And you are the demon that made Cassandra fall down from heaven.” A voice joined them, it’s Damian.

“Hey! That’s mean!”

The chaos and noises are relatively relaxing but when he yawns, he excuses himself. “Going to sleep, Timmy?” He nodded and replied with, “Jetlagged.”

Tim tried to remember where his room was. And thank god, he found it with no anomalies. He entered the room and saw the room that he left. The room is completely gone with cans of energy drinks or packaging of junk foods. The bed is comforting as he remembers, he saw his suitcase next to the nightstand. He opens it and gets a fitted cashmere turtleneck and fleece sweatpants. He took a quick shower and changed. He laid down on the bed and let sleep take him.

He woke up the sun already down and darkness already took the city. He grabbed his phone and looked at what time it was. 8:05 am. Huh?? Oh, his phone is still in the Japanese Time Zone. He quickly changes it and freshens up. He looked at the wide mirror in his bathroom, and assessed himself. He knows he changed when he moved to Japan. His toned body was dissolved into a more lean one. His hair was maintained into a shoulder length, but his hair is shining with a red undertone in the right light. He has an ear piercing. His face was more round and yet still sharp. He got taller but still the smallest to Wayne, even Cass is taller than him. No, he is not salty about it.

He scooped up a handful of water and splashed his face and hair. Once he could feel his rationality and sanity came back to him, he dried his face and went down to the kitchen. He needs something to ingest in his body, anything. He saw Alfred was making something in the kitchen.

“Master Tim, you are finally awake. Will you please call the others for dinner?”

“Sure, Alfred.”

He found everyone in the largest living room. Damian and Dick playing chess, Damian is winning. Stephanie is doing something together with Duke. Bruce is with Cass flipping in the catalogue of whatever they still need to add to the wedding.

“Hey, Alfred told me to get you all. Dinner is ready.”

Dinner is rather peaceful, but rather uncomfortable. Whenever his eyes linger for a little second longer on a dish, Dick is already putting it on his plate. Damian kept on giving him a piece of whatever Damian thought he liked. Jason is spoon feeding him on dishes on what Jason thinks he will like. If this continues, he will be fat and as a model he would rather not have that. The Japanese Modelling World is so strict when it comes to thinness of their own.

But after that dinner, he sighed as walked to his room, he grabbed a velvet box and went to what he thinks is Cass' room.

He knocked, then he opened the door. Waynes are known for just busting your door open before coming in, because apparently, privacy is a social construct. Tim is not a Wayne anymore and also he is one of the decent people who actually knocks before coming inside of someone’s personal space.

“Hey Cass. I got you something.” he said as he looked at his sister.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, he pulled a velvet box and gave it to Cass. Cass accepts it and opens the blue velvet box, revealing a silver hair comb pin. Cass looked at him with huge eyes. He smiled at his sister, “My mother wore that at her wedding. She says my grandmother and my great grandmother also wear that to their wedding, and I feel like I am not the rightful owner of such a piece.”

Cass hugged him. He missed how tight Cass hugs him. The comfortable warmth that brings pleasant memories only, none of those scorching heat of Iraq. Maybe, maybe he can stay here for three weeks for Cass. For Cass.

#fanfic #dcu #timothy jackson drake #damian wayne #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #cass #steph #dick grayson

40 notes · View notes

missbluesunflowersstuff · 5 months

Text

Some Tim Drake headcanon

I did some headcanon based in canon stuff and also random things, this is more around the batkids and Tim. Please respect

Tim likes to think of himself as a street smarth, but he's not. He is academically smarth, but not a street smart kid (he grew up in a mansion with several servants, even though he is hella neglected, he wouldn't know how to survive on the streets of Gotham in the same way that Jason, Duke, Dick)

(ok I noticed some confusion with my worlds here, then Tim Drake is a child from Gotham, his way of surviving there is a little different from his brother but he still would figure it out. That's what I was saying, thanks for the comprehension)

whenever Tim needs someone to talk to he looks for Dick, he knows that Dick will listening to him and his older brother will also give him useful advice/ help him solve the problem

He's afraid of having redhead fever from his older brothers (Dick being friend with Babs, Wally, Kor'i and Roy and Jason being friend with Artemis, Roy and Kor'i), not in a romantic way or anything, he just doesn't know how to explain how Dick and Jason attract so many redheaded friends

He fears info dumping someone when he talks; Duke once commented that he liked the smell of rain when it rained on very hot days, and Tim began to explain that this was due to a fungus. Duke just listened silently and then shy smiled. And only later did Tim think he had ruined the peaceful moment, as he noticed how Duke and Cass lay quietly enjoying the rain...

His relationship with Steph isn't that complicated, they dated in the past, but nowadays they both try their best to remain good friends

He tries to plan several cute dates with Bernard, but he always ends up overthinking so he chooses the simplest route, cinema and burgers (Kon and Bart helped him choose this as perfect date)

When Tim is having problems with Bruce, he always turns to Dick, knowing that his older brother will help him with whatever he needs

Tim regrets the beginning between him and Damian, not just the assassination attempts, but Tim didn't try to trust Damian and always accused Damian's people of being bad and had an offense towards Damian's origins (both were wrong, Damian in his trauma stuff and I dislike how "his people are evil" that DC wrote at that time)

He is secretly afraid of someone discovering the bomb in Nanda Parbat, yes there were murderers there, but it was a city that also had civilians there and as a hero he shouldn't put the lives of innocent people at risk (why does DC keep writing him like that???)

There are actually several theories in Gotham about why he doesn't age, some say he's a vampire and others say he bathes in the blood of innocents, no one knows who start these theories (Dick blames Jason, Jason blames Damian, Damian blames Steph, Steph blames Bernard and Kon and Bart blames each others)

his worst nightmare is being the only survivor of his entire family (again)

Loneliness can hurt him in ways no villain could, being alone can drive him crazy. Therefore, unlike his brothers (who can work alone), Tim tries his best to work in teams

Because Bruce and Tim were born into a rich house, they are out of touch with normal stuff sometimes

he really enjoys listening to Bernard's theories and sometimes encourages him with something stupid

Tim likes to think that If his mother were alive she would like Bernard

Tim is the only one in the family who shows concern about Damian's addiction to adopting animals, afraid that it will turn into something similar to Bruce

Tim learned a lot about motorcycles because he thought it would be a good topic to talk about with Jason

Tim has and listens to his emo playlist

Even when he hates loneliness, he can disappear for a while, either because he wants someone to look for him or because of something Bruce said. When this happend, he usually comes back when he is tired of being alone or someone go look for him (man this is pretty sad...let me write something...)

There was a time when he disappeared for a while, he hid in a safehouse outside the country and when he started to wonder if anyone would miss him the door was shut down, Damian, Jon and a girl in a white mask that he didn't recognize entered

"tt if I knew you weren't in danger I would have feared more" "what?" "come on, get on the Goliath, we have to go home" "did something happen?" "Batcow. Cows have a circle of friends and they can get depressed if a friend disappears

Ok Tim knew about cows due to Kon living on a farm, but he was extremely confused about being kidnapped rescued by Damian, Jon and Nobody just because the kids were worried about the Batcow mental health

Coming back was strange, since Bruce didn't even notice he was gone, but soon he felt Alfred the cat rubbing against him, Titus licking his hand and the cow mooing at him, Tim was a little happier to come back (I'm not good to write fluffly you guys are struck with this)

Nowadays Tim is very smug because he was the first of the brothers to fly in Goliath

Some batkid headcanon: Damian || Duke || Cassandra || Stephanie || Tim || Jason || Dick

#dc comics #batfamily #tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #bruce wayne #batfam headcanons #batfamily headcanons #stephanie brown #bernard dowd

78 notes · View notes

thiccpersonality · 2 months

Text

B My Valentine: (aka) A brief love holiday interlude to Damian (Gremlin) Wayne and his even more gremlin-esque family

It was Valentine's Day at Wayne Manor. A usually peaceful and non destructive holiday. Usually you'd expect for a love filled holiday event to be filled with...well, love and affection for each other and remembering what makes you love each other.

But in Wayne Manor, Valentine's Day means more competition, for what you ask? Well, for more of Bruce's approval of course! Every night (actually weeks) before the big day Bruce's family spends the night(s) toiling away at handmade cards and ideas, each trying to outdo the other on their gifts and carefully crafted surprises for their dear dad.

But...they (Richard, Jason and Tim) have an issue. There's extra competition today, not only is that brat Damian (reluctantly admitted by the older boys to be) super talented, but those wenches Bruce (for some reason) adopted into the family suddenly flocked towards Wayne Manor with a competitive gleam in their eyes. The three eldest could practically smell the determination from Barbara, Stephanie and Cassandra.

Bruce's cousin Kate even came, but she said it was for the seasonal goodies and to watch the chaos unfold. Although, the boys and girls are weary about her...the woman can be surprisingly great at hiding her emotions, even to the point of confusing Cass sometimes.

Of course no one lets Bruce in on the fact his family are being competitive on such a loving day, they just are content on letting the man bask in the loudness of his large home. The man always brightens up in his own way when everyone (or almost everyone. Duke couldn't make it) manages to visit, the corners of his lips turn up slightly and everyone has come to notice a happy blush overtakes his usually pale cheeks.

Which brings everyone to now. January 14th: Valentine's Day on a Wednesday at 7am. Richard waking up at a horrid smell coming from what he assumes to be the kitchen, his jaw clenching when he goes to check his hidden camera in the kitchen only to find the device not working and showing a glitchy and static screen.

The acrobat creeps out of his bed and down the hallway and stairs towards his target, his ears honing in on the quiet curses from a woman. Richard slips into the kitchen to watch Stephanie freaking Brown trying to cook...whatever it is? The older can't actually tell with how charred the...pancake? Or some batter like texture is burned and others a mixture of charred and undercooked.

Stephanie gasps at a tall shadow being cast behind her the girl preparing to turn around only to be pressed into the counter as an all too familiar voice whispers softly and all too sweetly in her ear, "Do you need my help, traitor?"

Richard allows the blonde to turn around and smiles down at the flustered girl, "Traitor!? How am I a traitor? We never agreed to work together." Stephanie sputters and blows a strand of hair out of her face.

Richard narrows his eyes at the younger girl and pulls away, "I suppose so. But your actions these past few days were letting me know we had some sort of pact. How could you shut off my cameras like that?" Stephanie look at the taller confused, "You...put cameras up to watch us? What is wrong with this family!?"

From the doorway comes a deeper voice, Jason holding out his hands to show the covert listening devices-aka: bugs/wires that were put in his and everyone else's rooms-when the two turn to look at him.

"Then how do you explain THESE, Stephanie? I know you and Timbo were helping each other bug everyone's rooms. You two thought you could be sooo sneaky."

Stephanie opens her mouth to defend herself, but Tim suddenly appears from a cabinet, stepping in front of the now baffled girl. "Not another word Stephanie, he has no proof. As far as we know he could be accusing us of his own crimes."

A burst of laughter escapes Jason and he pulls out his phone to wave it around, "Are you sure about that? I wouldn't sound so confident talking like that to the person who has video evidence from A CERTAIN SOMEONE'S hidden cameras." Tim gasps and Stephanie curses, the two looking to a betrayed looking Richard who points at the skunk haired teen.

"I-It was you who shut off my cameras! You knew about them and were using them to get blackmail material!"

Tim crosses his arms and huffs, "Kind of sus that he knew about my bugs as well! Almost like he was spying on us the whole time!"

Richard gasps again and turns to Stephanie, "Or almost like he had help shutting things down and figuring things out so a CERTAIN GIRL could sneak her ass downstairs to make Bruce handmade food." Stephanie's eyes widen and she shakes her head, "I demand a lawyer. You can't pin all of this on me! We were helped by Barbara!"

At the confession a curse is heard from what sounds like a speaker, when Jason gets to searching he finds one behind the fridge, Barbara's voice bitter as it speaks. "I'll get you for this, Steph. So what if I helped them both? You both asked help from Cass to take those cameras down as well."

Jason and Steph curse while Tim sips at his suddenly materialized coffee, shaking his head disappointedly. "There's no loyalty in family anymore. Where did the trust go?"

Cassandra jump scares everyone by suddenly appearing on top of the fridge, her brown eyes staring down on them like a judgmental god, "No trust. Only war. You three let downs. Quiet agreement. You break truce-" brown eyes narrow accusingly at Jason and Stephanie-"Now my enemies. Free game."

Barbara suddenly appears from the doorway and immediately starts to pin blame on the two teens.

Chaos soon erupts and everyone is pinning blame on one another. The arguing group not noticing Damian listening from above the steps and smiling to himself at how everything worked out beautifully. He still finds it odd how a mysterious source left a note in his room about all the going ons of his enemies siblings...but he'll count his blessings one by one he supposes.

Damian excitedly rushes to Bruce's room and opens the door quietly, stilling at seeing his father up in bed with Alfred by his side. The two men holding bugging devices and watching videos of everything that happened the past few weeks, Bruce looks up in surprise at Damian before his brows furrow.

"What is all this?"

Damian opens and closes his mouth, too flustered at being caught to respond. At the silence Bruce just sighs and stands up, grabbing Damian's small hand in his and leading him back out of the room. "I assume your siblings are up as well? We need to have a talk about this right now."

Damian bows his head as he's led into the kitchen by Bruce, everyone quieting down at realizing they've been caught red-handed.

--A few minutes later--

"It's touching that you all want my affection...but if this is the only reason you celebrate Valentine's Day is to squabble and one up each other...then maybe don't. A-Am I really that bad at letting you guys know I love and appreciate you that you have to fight for me to notice you?"

Jason frowns at that and shakes his head, "You can be a bit emotionally constipated-" he grunts at the elbow in his side-"But we know you love us! It's more of like...your love is such a treasure we get greedy and want to eliminate any and all competition!"

Bruce looks up at the genuine smiles and nods of agreement from his children, the man sighing and shoulders slumping more. "But I want to love all of you-" Ice blue eyes turn to look at the mess in the kitchen curiously and hopefully-"Oh? W-Were you all trying to make me breakfast? Did you all come together to try and make me food?"

Everyone freezes and looks at each other before coming to a silent agreement, all the Wayne children smiling and nodding quickly, their voices meshing together to sound like a happy symphony.

"Of course! We only wanted you to be happy!"

Bruce's eyes widen in shock and awe, his cheeks flushing happily as he stands and starts directing his kids to do different tasks. "I used to cook with Alfred a lot as a kid! We can cook breakfast together!"

The family get so distracted cleaning up Stephanie's mess that they don't notice Kate and Alfred at the kitchen entrance. The former huffing a laugh and looking at the butler suspiciously, "So how did you do this?"

Alfred keeps his gaze forward and smirks the tiniest bit before patting the red head's arm and turning away. "I had no involvement my dear child, it must be cupid working their magic. You go join them and I'll be right back."

Kate tilts her head but quickly rushes into the chaos to join her cousin and his crazy kids.

Alfred smiles at hearing the laughter and noise coming from the kitchen as he heads up the stairs again. Damian's complaints being heard on Stephanie and Tim's mixing patterns, Richard fighting with Jason on who's going to lick the spoon and Cass and Barbara murmuring quietly on how they'll decorate Bruce's plate to look pretty.

After arriving to Bruce's bedroom again Alfred steps onto the balcony, clears his throat and looks towards the sky, "Master Kent." Only a millisecond passes before Clark-or he should say Superman-is hovering in front of him, deep blue eyes curious on the outcome of his mission.

"So how did everything go? Did you really need to do all this just for them to calm down enough to act...civilized?"

Alfred smiles and nods, "Of course! The one thing we all can agree on is Bruce's happiness, as soon as master Bruce was disheartened by their behaviors they immediately pulled their acts together and are now making breakfast with hi-"

"Alfred? Is everything alright up here? I just thought you'd be quick to come take pi-" Bruce pauses at seeing Clark hovering outside and makes his way over to the two men-"Clark? Is everything okay? You didn't get hit with Kryptonite did you!?" Alfred smirks softly as the final part of his plan is in motion, the older gentleman eyeing the Valentine's card poking out from Superman's red shorts, the butler whispering so only Clark can hear him as he excuses himself.

"I do believe you have something to give master Bruce?"

Clark looks down nervously as the door clicks shut and he hovers closer to the concerned man, taking a deep breath in and shoving the handmade card he crafted for Bruce into his chest. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Bruce stumbles back just a little and looks at the card, smiling at the words 'B Mine' written on the admittedly gorgeously crafted card and blushing in a mixture of shyness and happiness. "A pun on my nickname? You even drew little bats."

Clark scratches his head and chuckles nervously, "I-I know it's cheesy bu-"

"I'll be your Valentine!"

Clark gasps softly and finally makes eye contact with Bruce, delighting in the pink blush spreading across his face and down to the elegant neck, the blush intensifying at Clark's intense stare. It's at the other man's silence that Bruce repeats himself.

"I-I said I'll be your Valentine...so come and make breakfast with us?"

Deep blue eyes adoringly stare at the endearing human being before him. Clark realizing that Alfred's right as he concedes under the hypnotizing ice blue eyes and the small tug on his cape, the man super speeding into his regular everyday clothes and coming back with a wide smile as he prepares himself for a breakfast with the Wayne's.

They all really would do anything for Bruce's happiness...even if that means sacrificing your safety for a day with your Valentine and his gremlin family.

(I don't know how or why I basically wrote a whole fanfiction for you all? It was supposed to be something shorter...but I obviously got carried away XD. Happy Valentine's Day everyone and I hope whoever reads this enjoys it and has a lovely day, week, month and year.

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

36 notes · View notes

azsazz · 2 years

Text

Terrible Twos

Cassian x Reader

Summary: Anon Requests: "I’d love to see a little fic where Cass deals with a toddler tantrum😂🥰pls" and "More dad cass"

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,162

_________________________________________

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exasperated as your son lies on the cobblestones before you, screaming and crying, his little fists pounding into the stones beneath him.

It had been a mistake to take Gideon, freshly two years old, out into the Rainbow when he hadn’t taken his nap.

He’d caught sight of the pastries in the window, face pressed up against the glass, wide-eyed as he begged you for a dessert. But once the little squirt heard the word ‘no’ he’d begun banging on the window in a fit of rage, the workers indoors startling at the noise.

And you are really paying the price for telling him no.

You are really no match for Gideon, the little boy twisting and turning violently in your arms after you’d scooped him up and away from the bakery, kicking his legs out and pushing against you. Like his father in so many ways, he is stubborn as hell and can put up a good fight.

He’d nearly slipped from your arms and you set him down so he wouldn’t hurt himself, fat tears streaming down his chubby cheeks as he points at the bakery behind you, wailing for a treat.

You give awkward smiles to the passerby as you stick an arm out, stopping your son from running back up to the shops windows. He pinches at your arm, ever the frustrated Illyrian babe, brows furrowed and nose bright red and scrunched up in fury.

It’s normally cute when he makes this face, but paired with a wail louder than a banshee, disturbing the peacefulness of the city, it’s not so adorable.

You’ve dealt with plenty of tiny Illyrian tantrums before, but today was just not either of your days as you call out to Rhys with your mind, begging him to answer as Gideon throws himself down again, rolling onto his stomach as if that’s going to get him what he wants.

You called? The High Lord’s voice purrs in your mind. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, the whole mind speaking thing. It feels like his voice is rattling around in your already pounding head, setting you on edge even more.

Tell Cassian to come get his child, please. You grit, triedly.

His child? He asks and you can tell that he’s holding back a laugh. You roll your eyes, sitting yourself down on the street by your son. The High Lord must sense that now is not the time for joking so he continues promptly, He’s on his way.

Your head feels lighter when Rhys retreats, shoulders releasing some of the pent up tension now that you know reinforcements are on their way.

It’s all you can do, head propped up on fists, watching Gideon as his tantrum ensues, screaming so loudly you’re sure it can be heard across Velaris.

Maybe he’s calling out to his cousins, Nyx and Wren. The three of them must have some sort of code by now, always so loud when they’re playing together. You bet they both had their naps today.

A large shadow flies overhead and you use a hand to block the sun, watching as your mate lands with quiet grace a few feet away. He looks like a true hero, an adoring smile on his face and shooting a soft look at you, hazel eyes letting you know that he understands how tired and frustrated you are.

He’s dressed in his leathers, and had been in a short meeting with his brothers early this afternoon, which you really knew meant that they were going to have a few glasses of whiskey and shoot the shit with each other, a nice chance to get away from their mates and sons.

Cassian doesn’t know that you know this, and it’s best for the both of you that he doesn’t.

Gideon hasn’t noticed him yet, face down on the ground with his head buried in his hands, kicking his feet in tantrum.

For a fleeting moment you selfishly hope the crying tires him out so much that he falls asleep.

“What’s wrong, little man?” Cassian asks, sitting cross legged next to Gideon. His wings tuck back and up behind him, not touching the cobblestones, hands placed in his lap, waiting patiently.

Giddy’s cry falters for a moment at the sound of his father’s voice and his head shoots up so fast, wet eyes locking on his father immediately. He scrambles to his feet, stumbling over to his daddy with tear-streaked red cheeks, and Cassian scoops him up, holding him to his chest.

Your mate brushes the tousled hair from your son's face, kissing his chubby cheek as he rubs his back soothingly, whispering soothing words to the child.

You love watching Cassian like this, all soft and caring as he calms Gideon. He is truly the best father and partner, taking care of you both, so much love in his big heart.

Gideon hiccups, pointing to the bakery behind you.

“You have to use your words, buddy,” Cassian soothes, letting his son wipe his runny nose on his shoulder. He would’ve grimaced but he’s used to it by now, would do anything for his son even if it includes being a tissue for his snot and tears.

“Ice cream,” he says, or tries to. It’s interrupted by a shuddering gasp for air and it sounds like he’s saying something else, but you’re easily able to make out his babble.

“What did mommy say?” he asks gently, and Gideon’s teary eyes slide to you. He’s no longer bawling and the presence of his father has him calming down slightly.

“No,” he whines, lip wobbling and you tense, shutting your eyes and praying that he doesn’t start wailing again. You don’t think the townspeople can bear it.

“Then we gotta listen to her, isn’t that right Giddy?” Cassian asks the little boy in his arms. Your son's lip juts out in a pout but he reluctantly nods his head after thinking about his fathers words for a few moments.

“That’s my boy,” Cassian praises, planting a loud kiss on his cheek that makes the little boy squeal with laughter. Your shoulders go lax as you watch them, a small smile on your face. “Now go say sorry to mommy for making a fuss in the street.”

Gideon agrees, running out of his father’s arms and into your open ones. You hug your baby close as he apologizes, clinging tightly to your front.

Some days are a challenge, dealing with a two year old, but this makes it all worth it.

Cassian scoops the toddler up into his arms, the little boy resting his head in the crook of his daddy's neck, eyes already drooping from the exhaustion of the long day. Your mate offers you a hand up, intertwining your fingers once you’re to your feet. He leans down, greeting you with a kiss before you all begin the walk home together.

#cass x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian/you #cassian/reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azsazz #daddycass #acotar next gen

560 notes · View notes

eve175 · 6 days

Text

Ephemeral

Cassian x Reader

A/N: This fic is really angsty. There are two alternative endings, click on the one you want once you're done reading that first part.

Summary : Cassian asks to be paired with you on a mission. One of his not-so-funny jokes turns into a real nightmare...

Warnings: angst, blood, injuries, (First ending alternative: death, dismemberment)

“Alright. We’re setting camp here for the night.”

You furrow your brows, a look of confusion plastered on your face as you look over the map, spotting the emplacement Cass was currently setting camp at. Lorarey. Lorarey… Your eyes scan over the Illyrian mountain region on the map, the name of the city echoing through your mind. A brief memory crosses your mind, you hum, spinning around to where Cassian was starting to set up the tent, your eyes still fixed onto the map you were holding. “Cass… Didn’t Azriel warn us about this region? The name sounds strangely familiar…”

You trace your finger on the map, as if trying to remember if, and what Azriel mentioned anything about Lorarey. You sit on the ground, scratching your temple as your mind runs to remember any important information, because obviously Cassian wouldn’t have been the one to remember any kind of information Azriel would’ve told him, too excited to be paired up with you on this mission.

Rhysand had sent you and Cassian to the Illyrians mountains with the goal of reporting every region advancements on the rules he had newly set for them. Cassian had insisted that you were the one that needed to come with him, so the Illyrian generals would have a better idea of how womens and mens could work as a team, as equals. You hadn’t thought much of Cassian insisting on the fact, almost begging Rhys, that it should be you that went with him. It could’ve been Feyre, Amren, Morrigan, anyone really. But Cassian had asked for you. You start to drift from your previous worry, and now all you can concentrate about is why Cassian could possibly have wanted to be paired on this mission with you, out of anyone else?

Wait…The silence was unusual, you were never able to think or concentrate in peace with Cassian around. He would’ve made a joke about how the way you frown makes you look old…You lift your eyes from the map, and scan your surroundings. Cassian. Where was Cassian? You jump onto your legs, your chest heaves rapidly, your shaking hands reach down to your thigh, unsheathing your dagger, your knuckles white from the tight grip around it, and tears start forming into your eyes. No… No no no no no… This can not be happening… Not when you’ve never told him that-

A pair of large hands pins your arms to your side, making your dagger fall off your hand.Your back is quickly pinned against a broad chest, you wiggle, trying to free yourself from the man’s grip, until you feel soft lips brush against the shell of your ear and whisper. “Boo.” You free yourself of the grip and spin around, your face and ears red and boiling hot. “Not funny at all, Cassian.” You angrily pick up the dagger you dropped and stomp away from this dumb, annoying Illyrian brute. Cassian just bends in half, holding his stomach as his deep, rich laughter resonates. A huge contrast of the heavy silence of the Illyrian mountains. You proceed to pick up some wood, ignoring Cassian teasing restlessly about how he almost made me shit my pants, telling me how I shouldn’t have let down my guards by looking at the map.

You grumble, starting to assemble the wood in a pile so that you can start trying to light a fire. Cassian clasp his hands together, a proud grin lifting the corners of his lips as he finishes to assemble the tent for tonight. You hear his heavy boots walking towards you, crouching down to where you were trying to make the flame catch onto the wood. “Hey…” He whispers, gently nudging your side. “I’m sorry.” He chuckles, his large gloved hands ruffling your hair, trying to make you laugh. “Well, I’m still pissed.” You answer dryly, not even caring to look at him at this moment. You were mad at him, but even more so at yourself. He was right, you shouldn’t have been distracted by the map. What if someone would’ve captured him for real because of your inattentiveness? What if he would’ve been tortured because of you? What if…

Cassian’s body stills beside yours, and you lift your eyes from the fire, scanning your surroundings. Your Fae ears were perked, twitching at every sound. “Cass-” Your voice was low, shaking. He quickly puts his hand over your mouth, eyebrows frowned. “Not a sound…” He wasn’t joking, his face and tone was clearly indicating to you that he was deadly serious right now. Before you can process anything, a hissing sound snaps through the silence, and Cassian shields your body with his, his wings wrapped protectively around you. A grunt falls from his lips as something pierce into his back, his leathers ripped open, and the smell of an open wound filling up your nostrils. His eyes widen, roll at the back of his head before his body collapses down onto yours. Your head bumps on a log on your fall down to the ground, causing you to fall unconscious.

—--

Cold… The first thought that came to your mind when your heavy eyelids fluttered open was how cold this place was. How dark… You tried to lift your aching limbs from the ground, begging your eyes to quickly adjust to the pitch-black darkness. The second your body is sat on the ground you feel the world around you start spinning. A qualm rushes through your body, your body shudders as bile rises up in your esophagus. Your body bends over, your shaking hands keeping you from falling into the waves of vomit that were expelled from your body. Breathe, You needed to breath, to ground yourself just like Cassian had thought you multiples of times in training. Your brain needs oxygen to think clearly. Breathing is the key. A distant memory of his advice echoes through your head, and you fight the urge to tear up.

Cassian… where was Cassian? Breathe… His voice resonates once more through the incessant pounding of your head. Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale… You repeat the action for a few minutes, your eyes starting to slowly adjust to the darkness in the meanwhile. Once you start to feel grounded, you start to pat your body, self-examining any potential injuries. Your legs were roughly scraped, there was a nasty bump at the back of your head, and your ankles and wrist were aching from the tight leather restraints. Leather restraints… Lorarey… You try to process the information, when suddenly everything clicks into place. Lorarey ; that was the Illyrian region Azriel had warned you about. He had warned you that a group of Illyrian rebels had been spotted around here recently. A group of barbare Illyrian, who were still stubbornly stuck with their ancient gory culture. They were merciless, and it was impossible to communicate with them, since they were only speaking an old Illyrian dialect. Not that they would have listened to anyone anyway.

Your heart skips a beat at the rustle of wings coming from your left. Your eyes squint, your nostrils flare, taking in the familiar scent. “Cassian…” You whisper, crawling as close as you can to the limp body sprawled on the cave’s freezing floor. Your hands couldn’t reach his body, the leather restraints wrapped around your ankles and wrist stretched to the maximum. You stretch your neck, your cheek barely reaching his hand. You gently tug at his pinky with your teeth, dragging his hand as close to you as possible. You rest your cheek on the pulse point of his wrist, sighing in relief at the soft thumping of it against your skin.

A tear of slight relief rolls down onto your cheek as you nestle your head into the large palm of his hand, begging the Mother to give you a way to get out of here. Both of you. Or at least Cassian. He was the most valuable one of you two. He was the Lord of Bloodshed, for fuck sake. He couldn’t just… perish in a cold cave because his idiotic mission partner couldn’t protect him. Prythian needed him, his brothers needed him, Mor and Amren too needed him… You needed him. You sniffle, burying your cheek deeper into the palm of his hand, ignoring the burning of the tensed leather on your skin.

Rhysand was too far away for you to reach, and you couldn’t risk lowering your shields in case the enemy had daemati powers. You thought about screaming for help, but the idea quickly vanished at the idea of the enemy risking to kill you both if you didn’t stay silent.You hear Cassian groan silently, his body slightly shivering. “Cass..?” You call for him again silently, internally begging for him to wake up, to fight. He had always been the strong one in these kinds of situations. Cassian would’ve known what to do, how to free the both of you, you would probably already be free and out of this cave if he was conscious at the moment. You bite your lip. You needed- no, you will stay strong for him. Fight. Think. But for now, your body felt heavy, and your head was too cloudy to think, so the only thing you could do was to seek comfort in the touch of his hand against your cheek. “I’m not mad anymore… I’m sorry.” You whisper, your body too weak to stay conscious anymore.

—--

Help… Help… Help…

You move your shields up and down, begging for Rhysand to hear you. To come or send someone, anyone, to your rescue. Cassian’s body was shivering with fever, your cheek moist from his sweaty hand. He hadn’t woken up once since you had been captured and dragged into this cave. You were nibbling at the leather shackles on your ankle, pain burning the muscles of your back at the unnatural contortion. The smell of copper filled the air of the dark cave, the metallic taste lingering in your mouth combined with the ache of your gums made you want to give up. But you couldn’t. For Cass, you needed to fight. If no one was coming to save the both of you, you would.

You felt as if you were losing your mind. How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? You couldn’t tell. The pitch-black darkness of the cave made it impossible to stay oriented. No one had come into the cave, not to your knowledge. Was it their plan, to make you go mad until you perish? At this point, you would’ve probably preferred to be physically tortured, you thought. Cassian’s ragged breathing was the only thing that held the last bit of sanity left in you. Your anchor… He had always been, and you were so fucking stupid to never have told him. You should’ve told him, you shouldn’t have relied on your practically immortal life as a Fae. Life, even as an immortal, could be taken away from you at any given moment. There was no guarantee about anything, even as a Fae, you now realized.

Alternative endings:

They both die

They both live

#acotar #fiction #acosaf #x reader #my fic #angsty to the core #angst #angsty #cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian acomaf #cassian x reader #cassian #cassian acosf #lord of bloodshed

10 notes · View notes

redhead-batgal · 1 year

Note

can you write more angst with vigilante!reader x jason? thank you so much!

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Fem! and Vigilante! Reader x Jason Todd/ Red Hood

Content: Violence, flashbacks, ~Tragic backstory~, feelings, implications of many kinds, gang lord Jason, yearning, pining and so much angst.

Word Count: 2,812

{P.S. Sorry if this isn't what you wanted, I didn't know if you wanted a whole new one-shot or for me to continue something else. If this isn't it, let me know and I'll do that as well :)}

\P.P.S Prepare to feel the pain. >:3\

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Emotions are complex things, fierce and lasting things that always seemed to rage at the wrong moments. Emotions were tricky far trickier then they seemed, especially since they shifted so fluidly and quickly. Changing from calm coolness to a raging inferno of anger.

It made you question how you were able to become a vigilante in the first place.

It was a calm night, so calm even the comms was quiet. A strange and unnatural occurrence... though it might have to do with Catwoman being spotted and Batman chasing after her.

It was going to be a quiet night, he had said. There's no need for back up. But you had begged. Begged to be let back on patrol, it had been weeks... months actually almost two full months since you had been injured.

Much to your surprise he had agreed. You could come along, but no one else. Tim needed to sleep, Damian and Duke had school tomorrow and Dick really needed to get back to his life in Bludhaven. Cass was off on a ballet trip and a broken leg took away any chance Steph had of even being considered.

So, reluctantly he had allowed you to come back. To come out into the open and cool night air once again. The city was quiet... well quiet for Gotham and you were almost enjoying yourself.

Perched by the Gargoyles- nestled against one actually, you watched as the night life of the city hummed and buzzed. A gentle sound for such a place of violence- it was nice. Peaceful and... calming.

Part of you whispered this new calm had to do with a crime boss rising up. The bane of the underworld, the rumors called him. You would just call him Jay-

No, no you wouldn't... no, you couldn't think about this. About him, it never ended well for you. No, it never, ever did.

Looking down at your hands you could still see the lines- the scars the rope made and the thin reminder of the fire that claimed so many lives dancing up the base of your wrists.

"Do they still hurt when it rains?" A voice asked, a deadly familiar voice.

A laugh escaped you and you replied before you fully realized what was happening, "Only if it's really pouring."

Just as the words left your lips, you found yourself freeze as the realization hit you. Only one person knew about that joke, and only one person had that voice. That heartbreakingly comforting voice that still haunted your nightmares.

Looking up you found a man, a man in a red helmet and strange looking armor with a peculiar red bat symbol across his chest. A brown leather jacket clung to his arms as he crouched near you.

Your mouth was a gap as your mask clad eyes began to water and for a brief moment you heard an alarm of sorts going off from the comms. Frantic voices cracked over the line before it finally fell into the staticky sound of snow.

Swallowing, your body flinched slamming against the gargoyle which shuttered and twitched. Sliding along the edge you tried so hard to get far enough away you could get back onto the roof and fight him. After all, there was no reason for him to be here. No reason for him to want to talk to you unless- unless he was trying to distract you from some crime or-or something bad that was happening.

Rolling under the gargoyle's arms, you safely made it onto the roof and whipped out some batarangs as your breath went still.

Jas- no, Red Hood held up his hands as he rose to his full height shaking his head. You felt your body trembling as you glared at him. Something in you beginning to shift and slide, fighting to come back into the light.

"I'm not gonna fight you, Mouse."

Locking your jaw, you swallowed again and raised your head before sliding your free hand towards the bar that pressed into your side. Of course he had to use that damned nickname.

"That's unfortunate because I sure as hell am going to fight you."

Snapping the bar out, the long chain tail- flail swirled out jumping forwards and causing J-Red Hood to lurch backwards. The tiny spikes that clung to the tip chain glimmered and glinted of death in the moonlight.

Narrowing your eyes, you twisted before swinging the flail at him. His body dropped as he dodged the swinging chain.

"Y/N, stop. I don't want to fight you."

A snarl escaped you as you pulled, sending the chain whirling in his direction, "Funny, because I don't remember asking you!"

He let out a grunt before the flail slammed into his arm, sending him towards the concrete.

"Is this really how you treat your friends, Mouse?"

"Only the former ones."

He sputtered out a laugh and you heard him cough. Part of you burst with worry. What if you hit him too hard? What if he's badly injured and coughing up blood? What if he dies?

"Former? Come on, don't I deserve a little more credit then that? I did save your life after all."

You forced yourself to roll your eyes as his words slammed into your gut. Whispers of the past drummed in your ears, and you shook your head.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

Red Hood froze for a moment, and you yanked the chain of your flail back. It skittered by him for just a moment before he was suddenly lunging towards it. His hands were wrapped around it before you could even think to stop him. He pulled on the chain and you, as he wrapped the chain around himself.

"Do you not remember? Remember how we'd sneak the wallets out of pedestrians and would spend hours in the library reading to each other?"

"I do!" You hissed trying to pull the flail's chain from his hands as memories slammed against your vision, "I REMEMBER EVERYTHING, DO YOU?"

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

You looked at him, tears forming in your eyes before you squeezed them shut and let out a breath.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- It was a dark and dreary day when you first met Jason Peter Todd. Rifling through garbage cans wasn't the most sanitary thing to do, but it was your only option. You were too clumsy and noticeable to pick pockets and weren't exactly what the madams and pimps were looking for. After all, you were only seven.

You were halfway through the reeking trash when you felt a presence. Rising out of the can, you narrowed your eyes to see a boy around your age stand just behind you. He wrinkled his nose before shaking his head.

"You're rat, right?"

You let out a hiss and the boy blinked before snorting slightly, though his eyes shined of fear, he didn't run away.

"I think I understand the nickname now, though Oscar the grouch would be more appropriate."

You glared at him, and he nervously looked you up and down before sighing.

"I'll give you food if you help me dump some drugs."

You blinked, tilting your head to the side you raised an eyebrow and the boy blushed ever so slightly.

"I heard that you're good at it and need to get rid of some."

Shimming a bit, you looked him over before letting out a sigh. It had been a while since you got a good meal. Rising more, you hopped out of the trash can and nodded slowly.

The boy blinked and you tilted your head again. He swallowed nervously the said, "You'll do it?"

A sigh of relief escaped him, and he offered out his hand to you. You narrowed your eyes, blinking before giving him a look. Did he really want to shake hands with you?

"Come on," He tried weakly, "I don't bite."

Hesitantly, you moved forwards before pressing your grime covered hand in his.

"Jason." He said with a smile.

You swallowed as one of the very few words you knew sprang to mind. Your own name. But- you didn't know how to say it really. Just how it looked.

"Do you have a name?" Jason asked his brows furrowed.

You nodded and Jason's furrow grew deeper, "Do you not want to tell me then?"

You shook your head rapidly and Jason sighed before tilting his own head.

"Do you know your name?"

You nodded again before raising a hand towards your face. How to tell him? Oh, OH! Yes.

Pressing a finger against your mouth you shook your head. Jason hesitated for a moment before blinking.

"Oh, you can't speak?"

You shook your head once more and Jason tried again.

"You don't know how to say it?"

You nodded and Jason placed his hands on his hips shaking his head before sighing again.

"Okay, I guess. Come on, we have to go back to my house to get the stuff."

Jason began to walk, and you quickly followed, there was food after all. It didn't take long before you arrived at a apartment complex, you went up to a modest door and Jason knocked. A few seconds later the door opened, and a blonde woman poked her head out. She blinked before sighing.

"Jason, what are you doing- wait... is that a little girl with you?"

Jason nodded, pushing the door open and pulling you into the apartment. The woman closed and locked the door behind her.

"Yup, she was on the street and helped me out, so I offered her some food in return."

The woman looked you over before shaking her head.

"Alright, but please don't do this again... Also, what's her name? What's your name dear?"

"She can't really speak. But everyone calls her rat."

"Rat? My goodness that's an awful name. Come on now. I'm going to get her washed up. Why don't you find something for her to eat jay?"

"Course mom."

Mom? This was his mother? The woman gently took you by the arm and guided you towards a room just away from the front door. Not long later, she had you in a tub of warm water and was spraying water across your face, "How in the world did you end up so dirty?"

You didn't reply, instead you blinked up at her and she smiled softly at you. Sweet smelling substances were rubbed across your body and hair and then washed away before you were pulled out of the now black water and wrapped in a towel.

Not long later, Jason walked into the room holding bundle in his arms. His mom looked over her should before turning back to you a smile on her face. "Hmm, I don't know jaybird. She doesn't really look like a rat, does she?"

"No, not really."

"I think she looks more like a mouse! A cute little fluffy mouse. Ooo, we should call her that!"

Jason snorted as your face flushed red. The soft and fluffy towel wrapped around your frame. Then suddenly, there was a loud banging on the door. Jason's mom went still before a drowsy smile stretched across her face. She patted your head and began walking towards the door.

"Stay here and until I come and get you two alright?"

You nodded and she closed the door as she left. Jason let out a soft string of curse words before passing a bundle of clothes to you.

"These are some of my old things, they will probably fit best."

You smiled at him, and he paused for a moment before turning away.

"Just get dressed please. I still need your help."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

"I'm really sorry about your mom Jay." You whispered, leaning against his shoulder.

He sighed before shrugging, "Don't be too sorry. It's not your fault after all."

Punching his side you scowled at him, and he finally looked you in the eyes. They were red and you could see the remnants of tears on his face.

"It doesn't matter Y/N. It- it's been almost a year."

"And? It doesn't change the fact that I just found out and she's- was your mom!"

Jason pushed you back and you head butted him causing him to laugh.

"Ouch Mouse, did you really have to do that?"

You nodded, "Yes. One your are being stupid trying to be stoic and two I know you're keeping something from me."

"Aww, full sentences I'm so proud."

You elbowed him again and he winced before rubbing the back of his neck. Your face fell as you looked him over.

"Jaybird?"

"Bruce Wayne is adopting me."

Everything went quiet for a moment, and you forced a breath out.

"Oh, OH. I- sorry. I should be congratulating you. Congrats, you're finally getting out of here."

"Yeah," Jason began turning towards you, "without you."

"Don't worry about me I'll be fine."

"Mouse, I've been worried about you since we first met. You don't have the best track record."

"And you do?"

Jason froze before a small smile appeared on his face, "Touche."

Laying your head on his shoulder you sighed, "I'll be fine. Don't worry too much. And if you feel like you really need to, you are always welcome to visit."

"Really?"

"Course Jaybird."

"Thanks, Mouse."

Swallowing the bitter feeling rising in your throat you gave him a sharp nod and a soft smile.

"Always, Jay."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It felt as though you had swallowed live coals. Burning hot and strong, they scorched your throat as the heavy rain poured and slammed into the ground.

The sky- oh god the sky was grey and dark. The world was dark and you- you couldn't even function.

Dead. He was dead.

A car accident, they said. Halfway across the world. And now- now you were alone because he was gone.

Your mouth felt so dry and yet, the tears never seemed to stop. Not when your hair was drenched and skin soaked, not when the rain seemed ready to swallow you up but never spit you out. No, the tears almost seemed as if they could out last the rain.

After all they filled the now hollow shell that you were. You couldn't even hear or feel your own heartbeat anymore. Breathing- oh hell breathing was forced at best. Why- why should you keep going if he was gone?

Gone. Gone like everyone else you had ever cared about, ever. Was it you? Were you the cause for this? Why did he have to die? Why did he have to be so far away when it happened, why couldn't he have been close?

Why didn't you get to say goodbye?

Or was- was it because whatever want to say goodbye was now gone too?

______________________________________________________________

Something sharp brought you back to reality. Blinking you found a spike digging into your hand and drawing blood. Looking at him you swallowed. Two months, it had been two months since you discovered he was alive and nearly died in your fit of frustration.

Shaking your head, you fought off the memories that tried to surface. The others were bad enough you didn't need more to make it worse. "Why?" he whispered causing you to look at him.

"Why what?"

"Why can't things just go back to the way they used to be?"

It was hard to breathe, with him so close- so desperate, "Because you left me! You- you always do!"

Your reply was sputtered, and halfhearted. Jason shook his head and leaned in closer to you his voice becoming clearer.

"What?"

"I'm-i'm not the same as I used to be."

"I don't care. You'll always be Y/N to me." His voice cracked and part of you began to crumble.

Why- why couldn't you just ignore these stupid and pounding feelings? These things that pulsed and jumped at his touched and danced, screaming at the sound that broken tone; why couldn't you just ignore them?

Tears, hot and fierce flushed against your eyes, "But- you changed too."

"No, no I'm-no!" Jason shook his head again and you could swear you could see his pleading expression through the mask, "I'm the same as I've always been. I'm your jaybird and you're my mouse. Always will be."

"No-no I'm not." You whispered as that rainy day flooded your mind.

"Why not?" Jason asked pulling you in even closer and causing all of your emotions to come bubbling out.

"BECAUSE YOU DIED. AND- AND WHEN YOU DIED, I-"

Jason pulled you in closed, close enough that you can hear his breathing, "You what?"

"I DIED WITH YOU!"

His grip went slack, and you yanked the flail from his grasps your body trembling. Why couldn't you just shut up?

"What?"

You looked back towards him feeling tears now spilling down your face. Closing your eyes for just a moment you raised your head.

"WHEN YOU DIED, I DIED WITH YOU."

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @daemonnix96 @zvtanna @masset-fotia @thomasbeloved @yorsgf @sskai @krswrites

#batfamily #batboy x y/n #batboys x reader #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd x y/n #y/n x jason todd #batboys x y/n #y/n #reader #request #angst #vigilante! reader

70 notes · View notes

idontunderstandchemistry · 1 year

Text

Uncomfortable - Tim Drake (2/3)

Summary: [...] "Are you saying you are afraid of me?" "I wouldn't say afraid" Dick said, trying to sound casual "It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel..." "Uncomfortable?" Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick "The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick?" [...] Extremely hurt Tim Drake living out of coffee and spite.

Wordcount: 930

Content Warnings: Angst; Deeply depressed Tim having deeply depressed people thoughts.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting, i feel like I'm almost selling my soul to finally get into college... Anyways, hope you're enjoying for now. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated ❣️

Be careful and stay hydrated!

P.S.: Don't judge Timmy for being an asshole, specially about his "I'll simply close my eyes and ignore Cass" because, guess what, deeply tdepressed people ignore their loved ones quite oftenly.

Part 1 - Part 3

CHAPTER TWO - THE SOFA

Tim hated when Steph wasn’t around.

She and Cass were the only ones he wouldn’t ever deny to be in the presence. Steph knew her limits and always made sure to be whatever Tim needed her to be, and for that, he was very grateful. Cass too. Maybe it was part of her naturally silent nature. Tim could simply enjoy being silent alongside her, and, even if she tried to communicate with him through sign language, he could simply be an asshole and close his eyes, turn away or pretend he didn’t see.

He found himself being quite an asshole to them recently, and for that, he felt bad. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about it. Tim simply hadn’t had the energy to try.

So he decided to spend more time alone. Good thing the Manor had more than enough rooms for him to hide. Obviously, he had to avoid the closets and the kitchen. Alfred somehow had a spider sense about them and appeared immediately after he felt in his bones that someone dared to get inside his beloved kitchen. So now he was seated in the sofá of one of the living rooms with his laptop, working on a case.

Everything was fine, until Bruce stealthy got inside the room and sat beside Tim, who pretended not to care.

Some years ago, he would be thrilled by his appearance - Bruce's emotional intelligence range was equal to a teaspoon, so when Tim was still little, every opportunity he had to try to win a piece of Bruce’s attention was unique. Tim could remember every frustrated bonding attempt he made towards Bruce.

He remembered how much he tried to break Bruce’s walls down and how everytime he got some success, Bruce was quick in building up some more. It took him some years to realise that no matter how much he tried, he would never be like Dick or Jason to Bruce. He wasn’t chosen by him, he didn’t try to be his father figure, Tim already had a father. His relationship with Bruce was purely professional.

Batman needs a Robin, and Tim was willingly going to do the job.

Just so all that he ever worked for was taken away from him by Mr. “I don't want to be THE Batman anymore” and given to an entitled brat who tried to kill him.

Tim could hear his teeth grinding against each other in anger. He hated this fucking family.

— Are you going to tell me what's going on, Tim? — Bruce asked, hearing his son’s jaw clench and his eyes stare at the screen in a cold peace.

— No, I am not — The young man said, slowly, feeling his guts filling with rage.

It was simply too convenient for Bruce to choose when he was able to care about the children he brought into his life and decided to call his children. Simply too convenient to choose when he was going to be an available father figure and when he was going to be distant, when he was going to suffocate you with his uneasy stare because of his inability of simply taking conclusions about what was in front of him. Best detective in the world my ass.

Bruce let out a deep sigh. He was tired.

— Tim, when you have a problem, you need to talk about it. We are your family, we want to help. — He said after some time.

— Well, it seems like my family gets “uncomfortable” when I talk about the problems, so I decided I simply won't talk about them at all — Tim answered, not caring about how bitter he sounded. He didn’t care that Bruce was tired. He didn’t care about any of that shit anymore — If I need help, I'll hire a therapist. I'm pretty sure I can afford It.

Bruce sighed again.

— I love you, Tim. Don't forget that.

Tim laughed bitterly, what scared Bruce. Once again, Tim found himself being an asshole. He had this particular laugh that freaked the whole family: a laugh mastered during the time when he was Joker Jr. He could see Bruce flinch in discomfort and his pupils filled with fear. They were afraid he was going to snap at any time. Good. They had reason enough to be afraid.

— You don't love me, Bruce — He simply said,closing the laptop angrily and getting up — Jason was dead, Dick was pissed and nobody else was stupid enough to try to get through your emotional walls. You had nobody else. You chose to keep me because you had nobody else. Batman needs a Robin and I were there to do the work, I got it. You don’t have to be a genius to know that.

— Tim, that's absolutely not true...

— I'm going to my chambers — Tim simply said.

— I am not done, Timothy!

— If you try to stop me, this will be the last time you'll ever see me around apart from patrol.I’m already emancipated, I’ll move out and Timothy Drake will never willingly cross paths with Bruce Wayne or any of his children again — The words came out of Tim's mouth like water from a tap. Absolutely fluid and cold. He had nothing else to lose, anyway, and he had already lived away from the Manor for many months before. He surely could do this again. Bruce couldn't say a thing. He was too shocked by his son's attitude — Do both of us a favour and stop pretending to care. We both know you don't.

Bruce was too shocked to even let out a sigh.

#timothy drake #tim drake angst #tim drake wayne #tim drake #red robin fanfic #red robin #batfamily angst #angst #i refuse to believe that bruce simply don't try to be a good parent #he is just a tired dad of six

85 notes · View notes

someonetaughtmetowrite · 1 year

Text

The Bats on a Ski Trip

Jason’s the guy who simultaneously trips people (Tim) on the hills while also giving little kids and especially nervous folks some gentle advice. He spends majority of the stay hiking around while a small but mighty gathering of wide-eyed, grateful children slide after him, begging him to join in snowball fights and snowman making and the like. And how could he say no to all those puppy eyes?

Tim takes this opportunity to sleep in well past noon (“It’s the warmest time of the day anyway. Go away Steph”). Despite being a native Gothamite, this small man was not built for this cold (“You look like a miserable marshmallow, Replacement.” “I’m wearing twelve jackets and I’m STILL cold, f*ck off”). He’s hopeless at skiing (“You might have more luck if you took off a couple layers-“ “Do you WANT me to die, Dick?”). He spends majority of the time in the lobby by the fire, switching out coffee for hot cocoa (but still drinking at least 5 cups a day, of course), and catching up on some leisurely reading while cuddling with Bernard (of course Tim brought him, and how could Bruce say no?)

Steph is having the BEST TIME OF HER LIFE! She is very much a public safety hazard, shredding the snow, and often going slightly off the path (“YOU FELL INTO A SNOW DRIFT AND DISTURBED A GRIZZLY’S DEN!!!” “Yeah, but the gram has never seen better.” “F@!$?!-“). However, she’ll wind down eventually and spend the evenings cuddling with Cass while the family gathers round the fire.

Cass quietly takes in the winter wonderland, getting up early for admire the way the dawn lights up the snow. She’ll try snowboarding (which she has a natural knack for, of course), but she’ll end up back at the lodge, taking quiet strolls with Bruce or sometimes Jason or Duke. They encourage her to play in the snow like a child, making angels and building snowmen. They love seeing her light up and live a little.

Duke loves snowboarding, but one can only take so much abuse from Jason and Steph before throwing in the towel. He spends majority of his time with Cass or just hiking by himself, enjoying a winter not permanently tinged Gotham Gray. It may be freezing, but he gets all warm and fuzzy when the family gathers, and he’s welcomed as if he’s always been and is meant to be there.

Alfred, much like Tim, spends majority of his time catching up on his reading and enjoying the fire. He also dabbles in photography, and collects a lovely assortment of photos featuring his family at peace in a winter wonderland. However, the kids coerce him onto the ski hill at long last, and let me tell you, they know they shouldn’t be all that shocked, but when Alfred FLIES down the hill like it’s second nature, and then stops with a sniff and strolls back inside like it was nothing, they can’t help but lose their jaws in the snow.

Damian may have braved many harsh climates and training exercises with the League of Shadows, but skiing and snowboarding prove difficult. He almost tears Steph’s and Jason’s heads off in frustration as they ski circles around him. Bruce and Duck finally step in, gently coaching him through it and accompanying him down the hill. He won’t admit it, but he kind of really loves cuddling with his family by the fire at the end of the day.

Dick is in love with the snow. A natural skiier and snowboarder just like Cass, he spends plenty of time racing Steph and Jason while also trying to stop them from killing anybody. However, he takes special interest in skating, and ends up by the lake more often than not, often with Cass and sometimes with Bruce, Damian, and Duke. He insists on herding everyone downstairs to sit together, handing out hot cocoa and blankets and cuddling Damian whether he likes it or not (he does).

Babs loved skiing before the loss of her legs, but she doesn’t let it get her down. She loves watching Cass be a kid, Tim and Bernard be lovey dovey, and stealing away Dick for…holiday fun. She chats with Alfred a lot, and if she thought she knew some secrets, she’s shockingly humbled after a long rant from an Alfred slightly drunk on spiked eggnog. She loosely braids Cass’s and Steph’s hair as they all dog pile on the couch, smiling as Dick cuddles her and Damian closer.

Bruce is just happy to see his kids happy. He doesn’t necessarily hate nor love the snow, but he does love spending time with his kids without having to worry about Gotham or WE (he pulled a few strings and has several leaguers and close friends taking care of things while he’s gone). He loves watching them all be kids again, without the trauma and the villains always lurking around a shadowy corner. In this winter wonderland, they are all made new, innocent and wonder-full, and for once he has no past to hold him back from letting them in and loving them.

🦇❄️

#I think they just need a nice vacation #they should have a nice holiday #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #duke thomas #tim drake #tim x bernard #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #blurb #bringontheweirdworld #dc

126 notes · View notes

letsbenditlikebennett · 8 months

Text

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @alan-duarte & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Alex meets up with Alan so that he can teach her how to shift outside the full moon. Unfortunately, their training session is rudely interrupted. CONTENT: Gun use, parental death, domestic abuse

Part of Alex had half a mind to cancel this meeting. After all, she had gotten by for thirteen years without changing outside of the full moon, did she really need to start now? She wanted to go home, back to her garden or her guitar, and forget all about the monster she became three nights a month. That was weak though and even if she hadn’t donned the name in years, somehow the Durand family legacy still hung over her head like a dark cloud, always casting a haze over anything good she tried to find in herself. She desperately wanted these lessons to change that. For her to be able to use the monster she’d become for something good. Maybe she couldn’t engage in combat with grace or agility, but if she could bring out the wolf in a more controlled setting, she could still protect people. If she couldn’t do that, why did she even survive that night? There had to be a reason for it. She had to be more than this. More than a monster.

There was some unease that settled in the pit of her stomach as Alex walked up to their meeting spot. They would be far away from anyone, surrounded by the comforting blanket of trees and foliage that blanketed the depths of the forest this time of year. Normally, they grounded her, but the tension settled in her shoulders all the same. She still couldn’t fully wrap her mind around Alan killing hunters. Andy made it seem like it was understandable, but how could it be? Moreover, she wanted to get this right and still felt the pathological urge to make sure Alan liked her. Even if she couldn’t let herself parse through the whole murder thing, he was helping her. He was experienced in all of this. He carried himself like he knew what the fuck he was doing and Alex so desperately wanted to know what that felt like.

A few calming breaths and taking in the smell of damp wood that hung in the air helped Alex bring her heart back down to a normal pace as she approached Alan. “Hey,” she waved with a half smile, “I feel like there should be some pop-culture mentor reference sorta deal here… but…” She shrugged, “Haven’t seen a lot of movies or TV shows.” Something she’d hoped would change as she spent more time with Cass, who loved both with a gusto.

“So, uh,” Alex made a sort of ‘lead the way’ gesture toward Alan, “Where do we start, old man?”

—

"Is that what I am?" A mentor. The idea of becoming someone's role model sat uncomfortably on his stomach.

There was a time, a while ago, where Alan saw himself build a family with someone. Well, not someone. Rafael Brown wasn't just someone to him. He was not his first love, although he'd been his second, and the longest relationship he ever had. They got together before marriage became legal for them, and swiftly got married a year after they allowed it. Then, he got bitten, and Rafael started to suspect Alan didn't spend his all-nighters at work but in good company. Alan hadn't figured out yet why he was blacking out three nights a month when the other filed for a divorce. There was no amount of promising or begging that could have changed a thing for them. He got married again, a few years later, but that had been a terrible choice this time, even if his second husband was in the know. Especially, perhaps, because he was in the know.

He was now too old for this, for being a role model for his own kids. If he accepted to help Alex, he'd have to be at peace with it. He'd have to own it.

The werewolf took a deep breath, brushing off a wrinkle from his tee-shirt. He'd grabbed something simple at the store. Target clothes were the sort he didn't mind tearing to pieces.

He'd brought a backpack too. That was one of the things she'd have to learn about: leave a whole bunch of those around, just in case. "I grabbed you a change. You'll need one, so I hope you're not wearing your favourite clothes," because they weren't precisely pretty. He smiled.

—

If nothing else, Alex had at least gotten the dress code for werewolf shifting club correct. She donned thrift store jeans that were several inches too long on her and a t-shirt from some movie she’d never heard of that she’d nicked because she liked the color. If this outfit was ripped to shreds by the end of the day, she wouldn’t really care. Though Alan had the forethought to think ahead with the whole change of clothes thing. Some part of her wanted to interject humor, place doubt in his ability to pick out a change of clothes, but she really doubted she’d have an issue with the change of clothes. Alan was nothing if not well dressed. Plus, her nerves would make it even harder to give any sort of convincing delivery.

The idea of honesty had crossed Alex’s mind. It wasn’t too late to tell Alan everything. About the hunter, about how he recognized her sister and would likely recognize her. Some smaller part even wanted to scream about being a monster, about not wanting any of this, but instead, the thoughts were silenced and tucked away in some metaphorical vault.

“Thanks,” she offered as smoothly as she could, “Did have enough sense to wear clothes I don’t care about.” She gestured at the bottoms of her jeans dragging in the mud, “In case we couldn’t tell by the terrible fit.” She sucked in a deep breath in hopes of finding some balance on the knife’s edge she felt like she was standing on. Even asking for these lessons was some sort of embracing of the monster she was. Was she ready for that? Did it really matter whether she was ready for it? It didn’t and she knew as much. This town didn’t care what you were ready for, it’d throw it at you.

“So,” she started, looking between the two of them, “How does this work? You’re not gonna go into some capitalist meditative retreat schtick, are you?”

—

“Not funny,” Alan pointed out. Capitalist meditative retreat schtick. Did he need to remind her that the ugly mean capitalist was offering gracefully, free of charge, to help her, and absolutely not to fill the hole in heart that had been left by crushed dreams of a perfect life with a happy American family. He had the picket fence, he didn’t precisely need a dog, considering he had a nice house, a pool, a best friend, a job, a business he owned. He couldn’t shake off this much : he wasn’t always very happy.

Lately, happiness had been outnumbered by dimmer days. He couldn’t really pinpoint why. He’d wake up in the morning, feeling grey. Sometimes, passing the threshold of his work place made him take a U turn on those feelings. Sometimes. Maybe this was why he was doing this. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t selfless. He just wanted to try something new. At his age, it was about damn time. He also wanted to slap himself. He didn’t have to be so fucking dramatic, did he? He just had to kick his own ass and get back into the right track.

With a sigh, one that was destined to himself, and his stupid tribulations, Alan turned to face the kid. He put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, took a moment to collect his thoughts, and get started. “How does it work?” A tough question. No one had a guide for this. He had gotten help, himself, from wolves that wound up dead months, years later. Hunters. They knew how to make things harder. “You want to control something that won’t want you to control it,” he paused, “but that something. It’s just you.” Which made it more complicated. He couldn’t get in her head, and she couldn’t get in his own. “We’re not the same but, we both want to be aware of what the fuck we’re doing,” no dissociative bullshit. None of it.

“You’re gonna need to find within you, that thing that takes over during full moons,” it sounded stupid. Perhaps it wasn’t even material, but that’s how he had managed to control it. He located it, or imagined that he did, and he pictured himself controlling it.

—

“It was kind of funny,” Alex shrugged, “I was only joking anyway.” There was something a little heavier in the way Alan carried himself that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. So much of her childhood had been spent being so tuned into other’s energy that it was hard not to notice the subtle shift. It wasn’t the same as it had been with her father though, she didn’t feel the edge brewing in her that came whenever her father had looked less than pleased. In the context of training especially, it was unnerving. Too many of the cruel things her father had done to make her a better ranger had been in the name of training and she didn’t resent those things, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to welcome them in either. Even with the slight slump in his shoulders, she still felt safe around Alan. In the very back of her mind, she could acknowledge that she felt safer with him than she ever had with her father, but she wasn’t prepared to fully accept that reality just yet.

As much shit as she liked to give him, Alex had to admit that he was insightful. There wasn’t sugarcoating in his words and he was able to find their common ground with ease. It was funny as different as they were, they shared so much because of what they were. Even if they wanted entirely different things out of life, there was a certain kinship to be had in wanting their lives to be on their own terms. He understood grasping for those threads of control when it felt like everything else had been all but ripped from you. She hated that she could relate to his words, hated that he was right on the money, and most of all, she hated that it furthered her from the mold of a ranger her parents had so tenaciously tried to fit her into.

“Yeah,” she answered softly, still letting the words sink in. It was hard to acknowledge the werewolf as part of her. There was comfort in the fallacy that a monster wasn’t the only thing she was, that there was somehow more to her, to both of them. Alex shifted on her feet and tried to think of how she felt on the full moon despite the fact she had no desire to immerse herself in those memories. “So more tune into that part of my brain and memories than dissociate,” she clarified. It was admittedly better than the new age bullshit she suspected most people would recommend, not that she was expecting Alan to be an undercover zen girlie or something.

It sounded simple enough and in reality, it probably was that simple. It’s not like it would be a huge surprise to Alex if she was as shitty of a werewolf as she was a ranger. She shook that thought, the wolf never doubted. At least, in her memories, it never did.

“Okay, I think I get what you’re going for,” she nodded, “I guess I’ll give it a go with focusing and you… I don’t know, maybe if it’s not kicking in a little show and tell or something?” Maybe the other wolf could coax hers out. Maybe not. She both wanted to master her shift and dreaded it at the same time, but she let her eyes flutter close so she could focus on her full moon memories and the way the beast’s mind worked, how it was driven by instinct and the hunt.

—

He didn’t reply. Arms crossed over his chest, the werewolf took a look at her. He wondered what was going through her head. It mustn’t have been easy for her either. Alan worried that he might not be a good instructor. She must have been just as worried. Alan didn’t want to think of what he would have done if he had been in her shoes, so young and unable to control himself. “Remember, you’re doing this for yourself,” he pointed out, squatting down to be lower than her, shorter. “You’re not doing this for me, or anyone else. I don’t care if we don’t get results today,” he offered her a smile before he took a seat on the ground.

It hadn’t rained in a few days, still, he could feel the soil was fresh beneath the fallen leaves.

“Sit down. You’ll focus better if you relax,” resting his arms on his knees, he nodded. “We don’t want to dissociate. Fuck that,” it was awful, scary, and not something he ever wanted to go through ever again. It wouldn’t be easy, and she’d need to train to achieve that at all times, but even if she never gained full control (God knew he tried), she could at least attempt to.

Alan nodded along. “We’ll let you try and if it doesn’t work, I’ll show you,” he wasn’t sure if that would help, but didn’t people learn new things by watching how it’s done? He fell silent then, if only to give her all she needed to find that bubble of unhinged feral energy within, dormant, but very much there.

—

There was something gentle in the way that Alan spoke and explained shifting to her that was unexpected. On their own merit, the interactions Alex shared with the older werewolf had been filled with a number of quips, but something about the kind approach to training was so foreign that it left her momentarily stunned. The environment was already better than the training room in her parents’ house, there was no locking her out here until she got it exactly right. The delivery was already softer, too, and there was something in the way he spoke that she couldn’t see him striking her out of any frustration in the name of building her skills. She felt safe and that was such a stark contrast to any training experience she had when it came to turning her into a ranger worthy of the Durand name. It was alarming that she felt safer here than she ever had training with her own father and she felt guilty for even thinking as much.

Thoughts of her last name sent another wave of guilt through Alex. There was a hunter out there that recognized the family resemblance and she hadn’t told Alan. Here he was going out of his way to help her despite the fact she’d made it her mission to be the biggest pain in the ass possible and she hadn’t shared such an important piece of information with him. Maybe she could. She wanted to trust Alan.

“Thank you,” Alex managed after a moment of quiet thought. It was all she could say, at least for the moment. She wasn’t even sure she could understand why the patience in this context meant everything to her and for once, part of her wished that maybe she could. “That kinda takes the pressure off,” she added. Because it did. She was always trying to impress and the fact Alan didn’t care whether or not she got it down today made it feel less big and scary. The idea of practicing shifting was becoming easier to warm up to.

As directed, Alex took a seat on the ground. It had always been her preferred seat anyhow, especially when it was warm and lush with grass like it was in the midst of summer. She listened to what Alan said and relaxed. That should have been the simplest part of the whole exercise, but when did she ever feel relaxed? Her eyes fluttered shut and she tried to focus on the sound of the wind in the trees and how it rustled the leaves. It helped slow her heart and she tried to bring her mind to the place it was on full moon’s. She tried to embrace the instinctive nature of those thoughts, but her more human mind fought it. There was a certain ferocity to the wolf that Alex just didn’t possess even if the wolf was still her like Alan had said.

Flashes of her tearing apart various critters flashed through her mind and the bloody images twisted her stomach into knots. Wasn’t that ferocity better than being too soft? Too weak? Alex could still remember the hushed words spoken between her parents like it was only moments ago. She finally had something in her that gave her an edge, but it still felt like forcing herself into a puzzle she wasn’t a part of. Her eyes flew back open. “Did you have a hard time letting that part of your mind in at first,” she asked, “I don’t think I can… make this me shut up enough.”

—

She looked confused. Alan told himself that she must have had trouble following him, despite the fact that he was convinced of the simplicity of his explanations. What had happened to them was written in many books, but there really wasn't a manual for werewolves. The psychologists had not looked into the question, nor had the pedagogues. Alan would be the only help she could count on. For the first time since they had arrived, he was thinking about that truth again. Their condition left them very lonely in the face of the difficulties encountered. It was chilling.

With his will to control everything, Alan had long since taken control of the wolf that inhabited him, fiercely refusing to be manipulated in any way. If the full moons didn't give him that satisfaction, he could still decide how he wanted to act, but unfortunately not what decisions were made.

"There's no need to thank me," he let his hands slide against the dry leaves. The ground was cool below, even more than the shady forest air. "Just try your best, and remember, it's alright not to immediately get it right," he knew today wouldn't be when she would be in full control. But perhaps she'd manage to transform.

She spoke, and he couldn't hold back a smile. Impatient, weren't we?

"If you want, you can try to materialise it, as if it was a bubble within." He crossed his ankles. It had been a while since he last needed to do so, but he remembered his first time trying. There was always this anger bubbling up in his hand. He'd moved it through him, he was not sure of how, up until it took up all the room. "You need to imagine it grows or… you could try to imagine it moving across your body."

—

The patience exhibited by the elder wolf seemed to come in endless supply which was a stark contrast to their first meeting. Alex knew which she preferred, but that felt too much like admitting maybe her parents didn’t have things all right. If she was worthy of this sort of calm and respect now, that would mean she had been then too and that was too much to grapple with. The feeling of standing at a ledge waiting for the metaphorical other shoe to drop was easier to swallow. Maybe she was weaving a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy with the inconvenient truth she kept stowed away in her back pocket, but it was becoming more difficult to not trust Alan. If he was singing the same tune at the end of this lesson when she inevitably failed then maybe she would tell him about the hunter and all the other reasons she felt like she needed to master this. But for right now, she would focus on the matter at hand. He was giving sage advice and she wanted to make him proud.

“I do like bubbles,” she smiled with a feigned confidence. She knew well enough that the werewolf was always part of her. It could be felt in small parts of every day when instincts kicked in. Her reflexes weren’t necessarily better, but senses that allowed you to anticipate the smallest changes in the environment did make a difference. Sometimes, she could even feel the ferocity that wasn’t all her own.

“I’ll give it a try.” Her eyes fluttered shut again and she tried to imagine the feeling of being in her werewolf form as something tangible. The experience was so heavily based in senses that she tried to engage all of them– the grass tickling her ankles, the rustling of leaves in trees, the thumping of their hearts, the smell of wet earth and something vaguely canine that had grown pleasantly familiar. She tried to move that bubble towards the sensory input and visualize how the werewolf would react. She tried to embrace how the wolf would feel it. Part of that was to keep close to Alan, some form of pack instinct she was sure, but also she found her head inclined to move toward directions of different stimuli. Still, something was holding her back. She tried to cling to that feeling, but it felt… vulnerable. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

She chewed nervously on her lower lip. “Do you think,” she started and trailed off uncertainly. There was a long pause as she tried to think of what would help. Maybe she’d feel less observed, less like she was being tested if he wasn’t watching… which seemed a little unfeasible, but maybe if he went first. “Sorry, uh, do you think you could go first? I think I’ll feel… less nervous. The bubble thing was definitely helping just… yeah.”

—

“You want me to go first?” Alan wondered if she’d ever seen someone transform before. It wasn’t a pretty sight, bones popping, creaking, moving under the skin, adopting abnormal angles. He worried for no reason. She’d been doing this longer than him, but he couldn’t put her youthful looks behind that. It just made no sense to him, that someone would harm someone her age and yet, here they were. It was very stupid of him to be worried he might spook her. This hit him like a second thought, and made him smile. “Alright,” looking over at the young woman, the werewolf got himself up, his age showing as he pushed on his hands and failed to repress a grunt.

He wondered, sometimes, if lycanthropy made it all worse or better. Was it slowly fucking up his bones or would he have had it so much worse without it? Either way, his back was not as young as before.

Now what was the right course of action : shift effortlessly or pretend it was hard? He felt like either way, she would be concerned but perhaps there was more hope to be found in an easy looking feat. Alan had long replaced the anger within with something more contained, still, the pain of shifting was for a long while what made him lose control over himself. One last time, he looked at Alex, a reassuring look in his eyes letting her know that he trusted her. “And remember, it’s alright if you don’t get it right today. It might take longer,” his smile grew more confident and he left the werewolf take all the room, pushing against every bone, every muscle until there was nothing human about his groans, nothing left of him but what was inside.

—

Alex nodded. The idea of him going first felt like it took some of the pressure off her, not that he was the one applying any pressure to her in the first place. It was becoming more and more apparent that was of her own design, that Alan had no expectations for her other than that she tried which didn’t seem right. How could he not expect more from her? “Please,” she answered meekly.

There were more reassurances that she gave a soft smile for before she watched Alan turn into a wolf. Alex had never seen the shift from this side before, but she could imagine based on her own experiences that it was about as brutal as it looked. It was fascinating in its own way too and thankfully not quite so bloody that it made her stomach turn. If anything it made her feel the presence of the wolf in her more. As she watched his limbs twist and turn into something more lupine and covered in dust-speckled brown fur, her own instincts and senses felt heightened as if the werewolf in her knew this was her pack.

For a few moments, all Alex could do was stare at Alan in his werewolf form. He already towered over her normally, but like this he seemed larger than life. When she was a kid, the sheer size of werewolves always intimidated her. She never really wanted to fight them, she’d wanted to hide. Some weird twist of fate meant she never made it to that stage of her training, but she felt no need to hide now. The beast before her was a friend and when he was like this, the wolf in her wouldn’t let her deny that he was becoming something closer to family. She smiled at the shifted werewolf, “You look pretty badass for an old guy.”

Her own laughter followed her joke and she could practically imagine the wolf giving her an eye roll for continuing to call him old. It became easier to connect with and feel the werewolf within herself and the balance between the two felt foreign, but nice. Alex held onto the feeling and let her mind race through her senses instinctively as the wolf would. Alan in his majestic yet undoubtedly dangerous form seemed to be watching her, as if silently guiding her through the process.

With every sound, her eyes flicked to follow it or her nose turned to pull in the scent. The werewolf in her felt like it was just at the surface, ready to come out, when the smallest sound in the brush caught her attention. Alex found her eyes falling on a familiar face though not one she had met personally. She’d memorized his features from the photo Andy sent her and the way his dark eyes scrutinized her from a distance. Something ferocious crawled under her skin and she found herself caught in a web of both shame and anger as he studied her. Her fists clenched at her side in an effort to play it off as her own attempt to shift, but then she saw the flash of metal in his hand and the gun cocking which fired off every instinct in her.

The wolf within that she had been grasping at came to the forefront and her bones mashed themselves into the monstrous form she’d spent so long being ashamed of. A small part of Alex wondered what the hunter’s face looked like as he watched her shift. Had he known he was dealing with two werewolves or had he assumed she was a traitor to their hunter code? It didn’t matter, the more human thoughts quickly subsided as the freshly transformed werewolf barreled toward Alan as the gunshot rang through the field. All four of her paws found the ground to give her as much speed as possible as she raced to intercept the bullet. There were barely seconds between her colliding into Alan to move him from the bullet’s path and her own yowl escaping as silver burned into her back left hip. As if in argument, the pained howl continued as icy blue lycanthrope eyes stared the hunter down. She didn’t want to hurt the man, but she hoped the prospect of two werewolves was enough to make him run before Alan attacked.

—

This was how it all went. Everything. One minute, everything was fine, the next, a shit storm. Such was life. Or such was his life the moment he left his parents' house. He wondered if perhaps any and all people could relate to it, if any and all parents tried their best to shield their kids for as long as they could from the storm. In Alex's case, Alan knew that she didn't even get that. She never got quiet,simpler times. Things were always complicated.

Maybe this was why she reacted faster.

By the time the older werewolf's eyes set on the hunter, he already had taken an aim at him. He didn't see the girl transform, and she took him by surprise as well, pushing him aside, out of harm's way. All for what. Once again, Alan wondered how someone would harm someone her age. Werewolves and hunters, both equally monstrous.

He could hear her pain, heart wrenching and unfair. Picking himself up, the grey wolf, worried as he might have been, moved forward. If he put up a fight, maybe she’d have time to run away from here. Hope. It was all he had. Alan rushed towards the hunter, his brown eyes filled with pain and disgust. The werewolf deserved to be hunted. He had used his abilities for his own gain, he had also killed many hunters to feed his friend. If he could regret the former, he felt not the slightest ounce of sorrow for the latter.

The hunter busying himself with his weapon, Alan thought he had a chance of knocking him down before he reloaded. A shot contradicted him, then a burn in his shoulder confirmed his mistake. He who often thought he was smarter than everyone else, howled in pain, and came to rest his back against a trunk, hoping to escape the hunter while he regained his wits.

—

The fact the afternoon had been going so well should have been a giveaway. Despite her nerves, Alex had been shown patience over and over again by the older werewolf. Just like dancing in the cave with Cass, this lesson with an older werewolf who was easy to see as a father figure was too good to be true. Those kinds of connections were only afforded to people who deserved them and she knew she didn’t, especially considering she hadn’t even warned Alan about the hunter who was crashing the lesson he was so kindly giving her.

Pushing Alan out of the way had gone well enough, but time felt like it froze around the younger wolf as the silver bullet burned into her hip. No amount of training had made Alex any better at handling pain, at least not such violent pain. The shift had become more natural and didn’t leave her bones feeling heavy for days following the full moon, but this seared and dug into her in a way that felt unbearable. It was almost impossible to ignore, but her nose was quick to pick up the change in Alan’s scent.

The older werewolf was ready to attack and protect. The thoughts were a bit different as a wolf, Alan’s instinct to protect felt natural, but her own self-loathing thoughts were still mixed with the instinct. She let out a sound between a howl and a grumble in protest, but he was already rushing toward the hunter. The younger werewolf wanted to stop him, to keep him from inevitably eating the hunter because it was wrong, but every breath through the pain felt labored.

Her own heart pounded in her ears as she watched Alan race toward the hunter only for the deafening sound of another gunshot to echo through the field. Another pained yelp escaped from Alex, but this time, it was not from her own pain. For a flash, she saw Alan’s life and death flash before her eyes, but he was moving again and she felt a wave of relief. He was leaning against a tree and she looked to the hunter… who was running off? Why was he running off? She guessed two werewolves was a bit much for any hunter, but the fact he was running off didn’t bring her any comfort.

The younger werewolf looked to Alan whose dusty brown fur was becoming coated in blood as he leaned against a tree that was surely bearing the brunt of his weight. He was hurt and it was her fault. She’d lied to him and now he was hurt. She’d put him in danger despite all he was doing for her and the guilt coiled through her like a hurricane. Somehow, even her werewolf form could tremble and she hated herself for that on top of everything else. The blood seemed to be coming from the shoulder and he appeared okay enough leaning against the tree he was at. With the hunter out of sight, that just left the two of them… which meant facing Alan and the inevitable disappointment with the fact she’d lied, with the fact she’d wanted to protect that hunter, too.

After all the patience and diverted expectations, Alex didn’t think she could face him. She’d let herself feel hopeful that she could find something in the older werewolf. A pack? Maybe? Some part of her knew it was deeper than that and the guilt made everything in her feel like it was on edge, so all she could do was run. It was part instinct, but Alex knew she couldn’t chalk it all up to that. Her own fear had a death grip on the wheel as she barreled away from the scene of the attack and toward anywhere else. After all, why had she thought she could be any less disappointing to a defacto father figure than she had been to her own father? Alan would be okay and better without her bringing problems into his life, even if it was a lot more than the bullet in her hip that ached as she raced away through the trees.

#wickedswriting #gun use tw #parental death tw #domestic abuse tw #wr alan #threads; with alan #threads; with alan; training woes #(never been a natural all i do is try try try) ;; writing #(the moonlight's blinding) ;; season 1 writing

7 notes · View notes