#I must hold a bat now after all those videos

[abysswalkersknight]

Got some more Bat Lilia!!!!! this was inspired by @llondonfog's post and watching videos of bats eating fruits in their little fluffy burritos, for some reason they always look angry while eating but in the cutest way possible.

Anyways it may be a bit muddled but hopefully still good, enjoy!

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Oh, look how far you have fallen, laments Lilia Vanrouge as he struggles in his cosy confines, above him the puny human child giggles and once again offers him the banana he benignantly refused earlier (squeaking vulgar insults and curses that the child obviously couldn’t understand) ‘now, now Mr Bat you can’t heal on an empty stomach.’ The silver haired baby chided him, lightly tapping him on the nose, if I were not trapped in this meagre form child I swear I'll… a loud growl echoed throughout the room, Lilia's aggressive squeaks quickly simpered when he realised that the sound came from his own stomach, why stomach? Why?

He was a feared general. Both humans and fae tremble at the mere mention of his name, all he’d need to do is glare at a man to have him crumbling to his knees mewling apologies and begging for his life. Yet here he is, trapped in bat form, bunched up in a fluffy pink wrap and being fed to by this bubbling human brat. And none, none of his intimidation tactics were working on his caretaker, instead of cowering like he was meant to, the child simply giggles and continues trying to feed him that wretched yellow, mushy stuff!

‘Get that away from me you lowly being!’ he squeaked angrily, flapping his wings in an attempt to free them from his prison of fluff. 

The boy could have poisoned the fruit! He probably knows what he is and is trying to take him out while he's injured and trapped in this form! In his brutal fight with the blanket Lilia hadn't noticed the fruit coming closer until the moment he flung his head around and had his mouth stuffed with an excessive amount of banana 'see, isn't it good?' The child chirped, happily watching as Lilia struggled with his mouthful of mushy fruit. 

As he packed the banana in his cheeks to chew better Lilia absently thought back to the time Malenor challenged him to see how many rats he could stuff in his mouth (three so far) even though the banana was much softer his jaw still aches slightly as he chewed, curse this little brat, I… 

oh wait.

He chewed a little slower, savouring the taste, this is actually pretty good. Give me more kid, give me more! 

The child seemed to understand Lilia’s incessant squeaking as he gladly offered more fruit and was surprised with his new bat friend’s change in attitude. It had been rather cold and windy when Silver ventured outside after a terrible storm had passed the night before, as usual his uncle had left him home alone so all he could do was check up on all his animal friends to make sure they had made it out of the storm safe. It was then the little boy came upon a strange looking bat, drenched and thoroughly conked out. Poor Silver nearly had a heart attack when he saw streaks of red on the bat but on further inspection the red seemed to be some weird type of dye or something. After carefully wrapping the injured bat in his cloak, Silver hurried back home to the cabin in the middle of the woods where he and his uncle lived. Once again his uncle wasn't home so no one was there to see Silver crash through the door and rush up the stairs toward his room, surprisingly the bat hadn't stirred at all during all the bumping around. Which brings them three days to now, where Lilia had suddenly woken up in his pink prison, weird stuff on his wing and having fruit shoved in his face. At least he now realises that banana tastes good.

A week passes and now Lilia’s wing is all better, he could’ve flown off and be back to Briar Valley by now (the boy called Silver had released him the morning he was healed) but something would always call him back the next day, and it wasn’t the bananas the boy somehow always had ready whenever Lilia decided to reveal himself, right now he was perched upside down on a branch right outside the boy’s window observing as Silver did his daily chores, his cheerful whistling echoes throughout the empty house which builds a sense of unease in the fae. Lilia doesn’t know much about humans but even then he could tell that Silver was quite young, about eight or nine, that’s far too young to leave a child alone for this long. Lilia’s seen the uncle return only once that whole week only for the brute leave just as quick as he came, not even giving a word of acknowledgement toward the sweet child, the fae may have been repulsed at the sight of children a few centuries ago but after raising the young prince he has discovered what wonders a child could bring, he had revelled in the knowledge that he had been granted the chance to care for Malenoa and Leven’s child and it disgusted him to see this lowly human disregard the little treasure before him, yes, Lilia will admit that he’s grown quite attached to the boy in the short time they’ve been together. Which is why his snout curls into a wicked grin as he sees Silver frown at the front door for the fifth time. 

Soon his carefully planned scheme will soon come to light.

Afterall how could he just let his sweet, adorable saviour go without repaying him?

A few months later

‘Uh, general?’ Baul starts, unsure of how to phrase the sight before him.

‘Yes, Baul?’ Lilia breaks off a piece of banana to give to the tiny human resting in his lap before stuffing the rest of it in his mouth, he shoots his second in command a glare, throwing the peel in a growing pile and daring the fae to question him. Baul gulps.

‘Nevermind sir.’

[kit-williams]

In all honesty you’re not even sure what kind of space marines you’re currently looking at. You distantly remember how they’re supposed to have heightened senses. It must mean they heard you walking up to the barn right? Why didn’t they try to hide? Why… why let you see them after months.. no, years! Years of being hidden?

T-those videos you’ve seen of people with space marines. They always look friendly, maybe some are intimidating but you never truly felt like those were dangerous. Yet now facing a barn full of what? 8ft? Who knows, who cares? They’re massive and dangerous.

You realise your kid’s friends aren’t as imaginary as you hoped.

So none of these names are canon for the Space Marine Husbandry warband btw but I am using the same make up.

You sit down on a crate as the barn is immaculate... well unless its the hay loft but that was Reeve and Varrin's space. You watched the space wolf just lounge on the floor talking to your son... you had worried he had linguistically regressed with what he had been saying lately but hearing him babble in their tongue back to them it made sense... but that brought the grim realization that they had been here for years.

All of them had been near your son during his most vulnerable time of life and you hadn't noticed. You had snapped at him a few times playing near that barn and only after one long vacation he started to ignore you but you made him promise to not touch anything dangerous. It turns out that's when Orn had taken the time to renovate their base of operations. You're certain that this place could take a tornado head on.

You drink the chocolate drink that Garrek had handed you as you just try to relax. Logan grins at you from the floor. "Well 'Mommy'"

"Please just do not call me that." You sigh as you roll your eyes at the shit eating grin on his face. And you give them your name. And your son, now in the hayloft declares his name as the sound of rustling hay and the hissing from the two night lords as they play.

You look up nervously but return to looking at Logan. You remember the warnings about the Night Lords about them being a chaos one and same about the Iron Warrior if you remember right but you're certain that Space Wolves are loyal? You have no idea about the war hound. "P-please leave?" You try to say confidently but it comes out much more timid and mild.

"How cute." You jump as one of the Night Lords had silently landed behind you.

Logan snarls something out and you watch the Night Lord raise his hands as he walks away. "Unfortunately Miss you are stuck with us." Orn said looking down at her without his helmet.

"Hooray!" Your boy says as the other Night Lord jumps down holding him. "Oh! OH! We can go outside and play! Reeeeeeeeeeeve! Reeeeeeeeeeeeeve let's go!" He says excitedly before switching to their language babbling happily as the one called Reeve chitters and rushes out of the barn like a bat out of hell... with the other being Varrin running out after him after a few moments.

Your heart is pounding and you stand up but the other three get you to sit back down. "We're going to be laying down some ground rules." Logan starts.

"N-now you listen here!" You shout standing up on the crate, "I don't know who you lot are and why you think you can come onto my property and just settle in! I didn't invite you or your ilk so you can just-"

She jumps as the metal barrel is just crushed by Logan as his grin is utterly feral and dark as he growls down at her. "Now." He says in his brogue, "You done? You got your little tantrum all out miss? Good. Now... sit." He says growling as you sit down. "Good. We Like yer boy." You pale again as how he says it implies that if they don't like you... they're willing to be rid of you.

The Space Marine in White and Blue armor finally speaks in a Slavic accent half putting himself between you and Logan. You watch Logan huff and fold his arms over his chest as they go back and forth. Orn just watches silently occasionally chirping out. You can hear your son laughing loudly and wildly as your eyes dart to the barn door as you worry if those laughs are actually screams.

"What do you want with my son?" You finally say.

Garrek says something before Logan speaks again, "Translating for the big guy... nothing. We're just watching over him he's our charge. But I suppose we are his... companions as you humans have taken to calling us. Or perhaps pets as your little one has explained. But don't worry about us much... just get us a few supplies... armor stuff... otherwise we can feed ourselves and will keep to ourselves. Deal?" Logan glances at Garrek as Orn nods to Garrek before Garrek seems to approve of what was said.

"Deal. So how do you know our language." You ask hopping down from the box.

"Your little boy brought us plenty of his books for us to learn and Orn and I have been teaching him... Gothic." Logan says as you walk over to the door. You see your son running around after fireflies as the two night lords just watch the insects before their skull faces turn to face her.

"Fine. Fine. I don't trust you all... but I guess I will have to learn." You say softly

"Indeed lass you will have to learn to trust us just like your son has." Logan replies

[kyndaris]

Trapped in a Cycle

From the sunny tropical island of Koholint, I was thrust into the wet and dreary Pale City as I followed the theme of nightmares for month of October in the video games I played. But while Link's Awakening had nightmares made manifest by a dream world, Little Nightmares II only featured nightmares in the title of the game. Still, the game, much likes it predecessor in the franchise, felt very much like playing through a waking nightmare. Especially as I explored a broken down society, with many of its denizens enraptures by the screen before them. Which, in and of itself, feels like a reflection of how current society is obsessed with their little pocket screens.

Although it was never explicitly stated, Little Nightmares II serves as a prequel to the first game in series. Just like the first game, Little Nightmares, it nails the atmosphere of what makes a good and proper horror game without relying solely on jump scares. As I played, there was always a sensation of impending doom and I was always fearful of what I might find around the corner. Coupled with the designs of the enemies, I certainly could not shake how unnerved I was throughout my time with the game. This was especialyl true during the mannequin level in the hospital and during the boss fight with the giant version of Six as she hovered protectively over a music box.

Speaking of music, it, too, played an important role in building atmosphere for the game. The soundtrack was eerily haunting with its use of piano and several key musical motifs. Of note, as well, was how the game also incorporated silence to help build tension. I know that I, not a heavy horror player, was on tenterhooks throughout the game as I crept through levels waiting for the sudden crescendos or the telltale notes to warn me of danger the next screen over.

The music, combined with the gameplay, left me with unease throughout my playthrough, which was perfect for the spooky season of October.Unlike most games I play, there is little Mono can do against his foes. Most of the time, he must run from whatever threat the game sees fit to throw at the player. Thankfully, there are moments can fight back providing a sense of empowerment that is usually lacking when running for one's life. I, especially, liked being able to grab hold of an axe or a bat to whack people or kill a creepy crawly mannequin hand.

But the gameplay, it should be noted, was also what proved incredibly frustrating throughout my time with the game. Some of it was due to the timing when it came to Mono swinging his weapons. Other times, it was the finicky hit boxes or the narrow window players were given to escape a threat. True, it added to the growing panic and tension, but by the time I was redoing the same section for the umpteenth time, much of the horror had bled away and I was left more annoyed than scared.

Of course, since playing through Star Wars Jedi: Survivor's Force Tears, this is less of an issue now. If anyone was able to do those platforming ones first go, I tip my hat off to you.

From a story perspective, Little Nightmares II keeps it close the vest. After all, this is a game with no dialogue. Everything is told via the environment and through the occasional interactions between Mono and the girl he rescues, who is later revealed to be the protagonist of the first game: Six.

Going online, there are theories aplenty of why Mono is in the Palce City and how he got there. The most popular theory says Mono is trapped in a time loop with no memory of what happened before. After all, why dream of the door in the Signal Tower where his supposed future self, the Thin Man, resides behind? And also, why is there a TV right next to him in the forest clearing he starts the game in?

These are all pertinent questions that need answers to but the game doesn't quite explain.

The theory also extends further to the Thin Man's motivations and his actions throughout the game. This includes taking Six away rather than going for both her and Mono. Some have even speculated that the Thin Man was trying to save his younger self from the trauma of the inevitable betrayal from Six. One, sparked because Six saw Mono's true face and realised he was the Thin Man all along - the one who had trapped her.

But I ask you: why then doesn't the Thin Man just let them go? If Six betrays Mono because she was captured, then isn't the way to break the loop be to not traumatise her in the first place?

If that were not the case, what else could motivate Six to leave behind? Especially given the fact she'd always been there to catch mono in the past.

Was she always evil then? And what of the Hunger that seemed to only come into play until the very end during the secret ending?

So many questions, so little answers. And now, Little Nightmares III has been announced!

While I'm curious to see how it will unfold, I'm still unsure if I'll pick it up given it was advertised as a co-op game (albeit with online co-op functionality and can be played solo if so chose). Then again, I want to see how, or IF, it ties back to Six in any way shape or form. There's still so much to be plumbed in this strange world the developers have created.

Even though it's creepy and scary, Little Nightmares knew how to keep me hooked with the many mysteries it lay out. Here's hoping the third game in the series doesn't disappoint.

Overall, I enjoyed my time with Little Nightmares II. As a short game, it was a fun dive into something a little different from the usual triple-A titles I normally play. And given I'd played the first game in the series, I was curious to see how the second one would unfold after reading all about it on the internet. I'm certainly going to put the soundtrack on just to give it a proper listen when I've the time.

[silly-thinkings]

Batman x Magic user reader

-In this story, Reader is a very powerful magic user that seems to hold more secrets than the Bat himself. One of those secrets decides to throw a tantrum. 

Listen... I was sick when I started to write this (December 5th) and I got sick again... soooo plz take this ;-;

Keys: S/N= Superhero name  F/C= Favorite color

The sea monster wrapped its limbs around the cruse ship. The sounds of screams could be heard from where you flew.

“(S/N!)” Superman practically barked into the coms.

“Yes. I am aware.”

You began casting a spell upon your allies. Superman, Aquaman, and Batman all began to glow green.

Their wounds quickly healed, and they felt lighter, stronger, faster.

With your help, you and Aquaman were able to safely save and escort all the civilians to the far shore. While Superman and Batman successfully finished the creature.

You made a platform in the middle of the water. All four of you stood and looked around the chaos.

“Stuff like this is happening world wide. We’re spread to thin.” Batman said pulling up a live video feed of many parts of the world. “Aquaman, I need you in Japan. Superman. Go back to Metropolis.”

The two men nodded. You opened a portal and they both walked through no problem.

You felt eyes on you. You turn your head to see a very stoic Batman. You gave him a soft smile and walked up to him “You are tense.”

You places both of your hands on his shoulders as he let out a sigh “I don’t like magic.”

“Ahh, you’re getting better at noticing magic.” You lightly booped his nose “Yes, this is very chaotic magic at play. And I believe I know where the source of all this is.”

Batman’s eyes squinted slightly. He was about to ask before his wrist began beeping.

“This is Batman.” He said answering the video feed.

“Batman. This is Aqualad, we need backup.”

You could hear the sound of a familiar whine.

“Where is she! I need to see her NOW!”

A loud blast was seen, knocking superboy far. You placed a hand on the bridge of your nose “why does he do this. He has my number.”

“We’re on our way.” Batman said before hanging up the call.

“Y/N. Do You know who’s doing this?”

You let out a sigh and nodded “I suppose this is my fault. I shouldn’t have spoiled him so much.”

Batman raised an eyebrow at your statement. You waved your hand summoning a fairly large castle in front of you. It reminded him of Constantine’s house.

The front door opened to reveal a F/C being “Lady Y/N. Batman” he bowed.

You notice Batman hesitate for a minute. You took his hand “come my love. I’ll explain on the way.”

***

Batman watched you intently as you walked around your magical castle. This must be the same feeling people get when they arrive to the manor for the first time. One odd thing he noticed however were the oversized furniture.

As you walked you picked up a teddy bear, water, some medication, and soup.

“I believe after tonight, I would be voted off the team.” You said in a somber tone. You still held a smile as you gently opened the door to a room. Batman followed, he noticed this room to be that of a child. Maybe a teenagers. It was fairly clean and unused for a very long while. In the corner, many cat toys littered the floor. You gently placed the items down along the bedside table. Batman was now very confused “Why would you say that?” ”Do you know who I am Bruce? Why Nabu despises me so?” Batmans eyes widened. “How did you-” You placed a finger on his lips “It is because of who I am that I know who you all are. Clark, Diana, Hal.” Bruce stiffened. This whole time you knew their identities and you respected that. He wrapped his hands around your hips “you are a very powerful magic user who is also a close friend of Constantine.” You giggled “Is that what he told you.” Bruce nodded. You waved your hand again, your outfit changed into a dark red gown that beautifully hugged your body. You pressed a light kiss on his lips, he pulled you in closer before pulling away. “Who are you Y/N?” He asked in a hushed tone. You smiled before you removed yourself from him “Some call me a Witch, others call me a Goddess. When I’m with you I am only Y/N. Which has been fun. Thank you. Bruce Wayne.”

“You’re saying goodbye.”

You notice a slight frown on his face. You smile and place a hand on his cheek “I want you safe. I want you to stress less. I know of how the league perceives me.” You spawn a ruby-like stone and hand it to him “if you ever need me. For anything at all. Just say my name three times while holding this.”

Bruce felt you gently place the oval-like stone on his hands. He looked into your eyes. He can see the sadness you bore. The pain you’ve been through. A similar kind of pain he has been through. Never in a million years did he think he’d have romantic feelings for someone on the team, let alone a magic-user. But when they first met. Their first mission, the first time she healed him. It was like she was his second half. It was like someone else properly understood all that pain he went through in his life.

Batman watched you pull away from him slowly. You turned to face the door. You opened it and strut out into a cornfield. Bruce shook his head in the realization that they had not only moved in the house itself but relocated. “Batman!” Robin shouted before a cube of water landed on him. Aqualad and Miss Martian were surrounded by fire. Superboy, Kidflash, and Artimes were struggling to stand. Zatanna could be seen standing in front of the witch boy, clearly wounded. “Klarion” You said softly. The witch boy didn’t listen, instead, wind began to pick up around the boy. A dragged-out meow could be heard beside him “Shut up tikkle!” Suddenly, the witch let out a sneeze. Sending Zatanna flying “Where is she huh! I don’t see her.” You flew high in the sky and held out your arms. Your body began to crack like a glass doll before you start to grow “Klarion!” Your voice boomed through the air Red and white aura began to surge around you. Batman looked around him to see many of the plants to regrow. The water around Robin popped, causing the boy to fall down to earth. Batman caught him and noticed a familiar green aura surrounding him. The same was happening to the team. “What’s happening?” Wally groggily asked standing to his feet. “Woah, am I dead? Why am I glowing?” “No idiot, look.” Atriums pointed to the vibrant glowing sphere illuminating the sky. 

“I feel… lighter.” Aqualad said looking at the palms of his hands “Its S/N’s healing magic” Robin informed the team.

Klarion finally turned around to face what everyone else was seeing “Haha! It would work.”

Batman’s coms Chirpped “Batman, things are clearing up here” Green arrow stated

“Same here. The buildings are practically fixing themselves” green lantern added.

“And the hurt civilians are healing. No casualties Bruce.” Wonder Woman smiled

Batman looked to the sky in awe. The world is fixed is your doing.

You focused all of your energy in such a multitask. It wasn’t just the hero’s that you were healing, it was the rest of the world. Repairing the damages that the boy made in such a short amount of time. Correcting his wrongs, its not the first time you did such a thing. You just wished it was a smaller scale. Like a parent teacher conference. Finding an opening Zatanna quickly regrouped with her team “This just got worse?” “Why? S/N’s is fixing everything” Robin quickly got to his feet. Zatanna’s face paled “She’s S/N?! What the hell Batman! Why would you recruit someone so dangerous? Surly Dr.Fate said something against this.” “Who is she?” Batman asked now annoyed with being in the dark. You landed little ways away from the group. Batman noticed your tired eyes and your wobbly figure. He wanted to approach you but he stopped himself as he watched the cat saunter towards you. Tikkle purred as she rubbed up against your leg “Hello hun. Have you been caring for my boy?” The cat gave an approving meow before resting along your back. Klarion looked at you then sniffled, followed by a nasty cough. A burst of energy zoomed out of him and towards the group.

Zatanna stood in front of them ready to block the spell. But you were faster, directing the bolt to you. The zap hit you making you stumble a bit more. You shook your head as you weren’t expecting such a powerful hit.

“Zatanna? Who is she?” Robin asked getting into a fighting stance.

“She’s-“

“Mother!!!!! What took you so long!” Klarion whined. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“Mother!” Everyone but Batman and Zatanna widened their eyes in surprise.

That explained the room in the house. Not to mention her mighty magical capabilities. And the doors, so this must be her true form. she’s practically a giant.

“Klarion. The lord of Chaos. Y/N. The queen of it all.” Dr. Fate appeared out of nowhere and floated above the group. “She is a witch that deserves to be purged from this plane.”

You ignore their comments and stairs. opening your arms you knelt down and gave Klarion a soft smile “come here my child. Mother is here.”

Klarion’s pout only lasted for seconds before he came running into your arms. You were significantly taller than most humans in your natural form. In fact very very tall. 9 feet tall. So you were able to pick him up like one would do a toddler. Klarion wrapped his arms and legs around you and pressed his head on your shoulder.

“I knew it. You have a fever. You poor thing, you’re burning up.” You said pressing a hand on his forehead. He refused to let you go, let alone look at the hero’s that ruined his fun.

“Y/N, Klarion. Both of you will be coming with me.” Dr. Fate demanded, floating towards you both.

You placed a hand in front of you causing him to stop “I don’t think I will. I must care for my son. He is sick.”

“Sick! That kid has caused us so many problems. He almost destroyed the world looking for you!” Kid flash grumbled.

“Yes, there have been times where my boy has been nothing but chaotic. However, that is why I came to this plane. To keep him in check. And to fix the many wrongs of the world.”

“Like hell you did!” Dr. Fate sent a light beam towards you and your son. You wrapped Klarion in a tighter hug and turned around. Attacking him wouldn’t do anyone any good, And you were already so weak from healing the world. The only thing you can think about was protecting your son.

The blast threw both of you far. The two of you tumbled into the ground. Klarion felt you limp above him. He scrambled to his knees “Mother? Mother!.”

“I’m here baby. It’s ok. Do not fight.” You place an hand on his cheek. He leaned into it with relaxed closed eyes. Rage consumed Klarion “how dare you!” He began forming a nasty spell “you’ll pay!”

He casted the spell towards Nabu. You attempted to direct the dark magic back to you, but you were too weak. It was like pulling at a wild horse. So you went for the other option and flew infront of Dr.Fate. Taking the blow.

The mighty wizard made no move to catch you as you fell towards the ground. He did however wonder why you protected him.

“Mother!” Klarion began running towards you “Stupid corn field. Stupid heroes.” He tumbled to the ground “stupid fever!”

Superboy jumped up in an attempt to catch you, but you were too big. In the end he only just softened your fall. After the dirt cleared you slowly you got to your feet

“are you ok?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I should be asking you such a question. Thank you Connor.”

Connor was face to face with your breasts and blushed heavily. He placed both of his hands over his face “y-yea… no problem ma’am”

You gave him a smile before you flew towards Klarion who laid on the floor sniffling. He refused to look at you.

“Klarion. Please apologize. Then we’ll go home hmm.”

“No! No no no no NO! I will NOT!” He slammed his fists to the ground.

You began tutting. You grabbed the back of his neck to stand him up to his feet “Klarion! That was not a request.” You said in a low tone that made even Batman shiver slightly.

Klarion got up. He kicked some dirt before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sorry… that you couldn’t take me down again! HA”

You pinched his ear “ow ow ow ow”

“I will subjugate you to the most wicked grounding you could ever possibly imagine young man! Now, Apologize.”

The aura around you surged a dark rich red. Klarion gulped “sorry… for causing so much trouble.”

You calmed down and smiled “as am I. I hope you can forgive us.”

Aqualad stepped forward. He strained his neck just to look up at you “it is fine. In the end nothing has been damaged.”

You gave him a grateful nod before feeling Klarion hug you again. You placed a hand on his hair. Cooing to him softly before picking him up.

Everyone looked past the two to see a giant castle appear behind them. They watched Y/N and Klarion enter their home. The mansion then fizzled out.

“Well. That was a surprise.” Dick was the first to break the silence.

****

“Mother! Let me out of here this instant!” Klarion snapped as he fired another blast to the wall. ”No. you have endangered so many. Be thankful that I’ve allowed you only to be in the room of solitude.” You frown “Do you hate your mother so much, that you would want to leave me so quickly my child?” Klarion frowned. He felt guilt wash over him “I don’t hate you. This is just annoying. Especially since you’ve been with those… heroes.” Klarion fired a blast to which you redirected it towards the floor. The personification of the castle shivered before pouring tea for you. “My apologies Cast. I forgot that you absorbed magic. Thank you for the tea” The being smiled “It is not a problem my queen.” You stood from your throne like chair and walked towards the room, sipping your tea “One day, you will understand that the universe survives through balance. Too much of one thing isn’t a good thing child.” Klarion let out sigh before aggressively fiddling with his hair. You placed a had on his shoulder “I will set you free. I believe you’ve learned from being here this month. There are matters that need my attention. I trust that you will behave?” Klarion nodded “Yes mother.” You gave him a soft nod and a smile “Thank you.” Tikkle sat on Klarion’s shoulder before zapping away. As soon as you felt their presences gone you lost your footing. Falling to the floor. “My lady!” Cast rushed to your side. You were breathing heavily, your eyes slowly opened and closed. He noticed the golden yellow vain like stream corrupting your body slowly. “My lady, this has gone on for far too long. Surly you would call the Batman to cure this.” He said under distress. You shook your head “Batman knows nothing of magic. This is Nabu’s doing.” You try to sit up but fail, falling to the floor. The butlers distress only worsened. He watched your form grow, unable to maintain your human figure any longer.

“You are Dying Lady Y/N!” Cast grew himself. He took you in his arms bridle style and rushed to the master bedroom. He gently placed you down on the bed. You’re skin burnt. He took off most of your clothes only leaving you in your undergarments.

The Yellow-Gold continued to corrupt your body. You tried to say something, anything. But you couldn’t. The last thing you saw was Cast shouting your name, before allowing darkness to consume you.

“My Queen? Y/N! Y/N WAKE UP!”

****

Bruce held onto the stone in his hand. One month since the incident. One month since he saw her. One month of feeling empty. He tried to forget you. After Dr. Fate’s explanation he felt very conflicted. He used horrible words to describe Y/N but she wasn’t like that at all.

“Call her Batman” 

The man turned around to see Constantine walk into the surveillance room with him. 

“What are you doing here?” Batman asked standing from his chair.

“Well, it feels like you need a little push .” Constantine said lighting up a cigarate “I’ve seen the way you look at her. as twisted as it may seem, you both got that spark.”

Batman let out a sigh and took the stone. “If what Zatanna and Dr. Fate say were true. then this is for the best.” “You dont belive in that shit yourself mate.” He scratched the back of his head “Dont you think that a bit hypocritical. I mean c’mon, im in this fluffy team.”  Batman faced him and looked into his eyes. he sensed no lies in his words. Batman held the stone “Do you know what this is?” Constantine smiled “Well ill be. The lady of darkness really does have a thing for you to give you something like that. Its a summoning stone. only six in all the planes. mighty rare item ya got.” Batman nodded. He said her name three times, the stone in hand glowed a vibrant red. Than the two began to float upwards before a bright light teleported them out of the tower.

The two men looked around. Bruce recognized his surroundings, It was Y/N castle. But something was off. The plants were wilted, some of the pillars were cracked and broken. It looked to be abandoned. Bruce felt his chest tighten. Something must’ve happened to her.

“Finally. You are here.”

Constantine turned around to see a very tall orc in a suit. Batman stepped forward “Where is Y/N?”

Cast frowned “Dying. I fear that there is nothing more I can do for my queen.”

Constantine's eyes widened. Dying? She’s dying? How? Why? When did this happen? his eyebrows furrowed “where is she.”

Cast turned and walked towards the master bedroom with both of them following closely behind. Constantine noticed how clenched Batman’s hands were, As they walked through the rundown halls. 

“I warn you. What you are about to see is too much for a regular human. I hope you understand.”

He opened the door, the room around them was an endless bright red. Furniture floated around, the room around them seemed to throb. Mimicking a heart beat. In the middle of all the chaos was Y/N on the bed. Bruce walked by her bedside. “Who did this.”

Cast stood on the other side of the bed, next to a silent Constantine. “Dr. Fate. Do you remember when she took a hit. To protect Klarion. That spell is meant to incapacitate those who practice the dark arts. At first I myself didn’t notice how she was growing weaker. Until yesterday that is.” Constantine traced his hands over the golden veins across her body “I cant believe it.” Batman looked up “Do you know how to fix this.” Constantine smiled “Oh yea. Nabu hit her with a classic sleeping beauty sleep mate. you’ll be able to fix this no problem.” Batman raised an eyebrow. “You mean, someone has to...” Constantine groaned “True loves kiss. ya know, for a detective you can be kinda dense.” 

Batman straightened his stance “and if it doesn’t work?”

“Then that little brat of a child will be the new being of chaos. And we both know how that’ll turn out.” He answered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Batman looked at your face. You were breathing heavily, clearly fighting off something. He took a deep breath before kissing your lips. The room around them shook, the furniture returned to its positions. Cast’s form began to change as-well. Constantine smiled as he watched everything around them return to normal.

When you opened your eyes you smiled “well well. If it isn’t my knight in shining armor.”

Batman smirked before kissing you again. Cast adjusted his suit before leaving the room. Constantine clears his throat “Y/N darling. You gave us a fright. Next time you want to confess your love, do it with some chocolate yea?”

You laugh as you sat up on the bed. Bruce hasn’t gotten over your natural size, but he now realized where Dick’s love for taller woman came from.

You place a finger under his chin “well my love. What are your thoughts of learning the truth?”

Batman looked at you up and down “my feelings haven’t changed.”

“Good” You lean down to face him.

Constantine stuffed a laugh at the mighty size difference. “Please let me third wheel your dates.”

[thefanficmonster]

Just Two Sad Roommates

Corpse Husband x Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: The power of medieval tavern music gets put to the test when Corpse’s roommate is having a rough day. SPOILER ALERT: it’s more powerful than anyone could assume.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😊😋 Wish I could tag you, I loved this idea so much and had such a fun time writing it. Hope you enjoy it just as much 🥰

The last twenty four hours haven’t been so great. 

Last night I had a huge fight with my boyfriend over his flirty messages with several girls. It was not just witty banter, it was way more and way more hurtful to me. He obviously denied it and defended himself, at least in the beginning of the argument. Then he took on the accusatory stance, pointing fingers at me for living with another guy. That had me absolutely fuming. Not only was his statement fabricated and literally made up on the spot, but he also used some seriously horrible insults for him. I was having non of it. Corpse is a really great roommate, sweet guy and overall amazing person. I haven’t once argued with him since we’ve started living together. We’re actually quite good friends. So hearing my asshole boyfriend call him all those names was more than enough to chase him out of the apartment. Thankfully, Corpse wasn’t home to hear all that. He rarely leaves the apartment but by some miracle this was the time he was absent.

Then this morning my mom called me to have a chat. It started off decently enough but it only remained that way for so long. It didn’t take her long to start criticizing each and every element of my existence. From my job, my boyfriend, my living arrangement, the career I’ve decided to pursue, the fact I moved to a different state, my paycheck that’s lower than her friend’s daughter’s...…..You get the point. 

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating what the two years I’ve been in a relationship with Marcus mean to me. I guess it is just like a phone call from my mother - starts off nice but slowly deteriorates. All things follow this pattern in my life, apparently. And just like the phone calls, I’ve considered ending things between me and him many times but never actually decided on it. Until now. The last part of this decision is executing it, which doesn’t look very promising. My thumbs are frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

I take a second to take a look at my life from a third person point of view, like an out of body experience. I am wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch like a burrito with a face. A really sad burrito with a face. I have a job where I work as much as three highly ranked workers and get paid a little over a secretary’s paycheck. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion and disinterest. I often forget I’m human and just assume I can live like a cactus - no food, no water. I have a boyfriend that’s cheating on me and most likely has been for quite some time now. And we’ve been dating for two fucking years. Man, that must be the longest cheat streak in history. Who knows with how many girls as well. And I still have trouble deciding weather to break up with him or not. Actually no, scratch that, I have already decided, but it feel so unnatural and so out of character that my body refuses to complete the task of delivering the final blow to the structure of this relationship which was already weak to begin with.

And it only got weaker when I started catching feelings for another guy. I know, I know, I’m a bad person for that, but I was never planning to act on those feelings. They have always just...lingered, loomed over me. They got stronger and stronger every time Marcus and I would fight, as though they were laughing at my mock of a relationship.

Speaking of laughter, I hear my roommate laughing in his recording room. I gave him the spare room for his recording equipment for a cheap add to his rent fee and it’s probably the second best decision I’ve ever made - first being picking him to be my roommate. He was among the first to reply to my online add and appeared the least sketchy over the phone. More hypnotizing if I’m honest. He could’ve told me he was a hitman and I wouldn’t have batted an eye, handing the keys to his room and the apartment without a second thought. All he had to do was keep talking. Again, SUE ME.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic!“ I drop my phone when all the strings inside me snap, releasing the sobs and tears I’ve been holding back for so long.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head in between them, desperately trying to shield myself from the plane crash that is my life at the moment. Crying makes me feel even sadder and more miserable but I have nothing left to do to get all the crap that’s piled up inside me out.

I’m on the verge of falling asleep, the tears have dried and the sobs have died somewhere in my chest, when I hear what sounds like music straight from Robin Hood’s time. 

Holy shit, I’ve lost it

I lift my head from in-between my knees, looking around the living room for the source of the jolly, lighthearted tune which despite all the heaviness of my self-loathing makes me feel like the main character in an medieval adventure. Wait...Holy crap, it’s that medieval adventure, Robin Hood-ass music I hear from Corpse’s room!

I whip around to face the entrance from to the hallway where I see an arm sticking out, holding a phone which is where the music is coming from. 

“Corpse?“ I call out to him in a questioning manner, shifting to a sitting position with my blanket kicked off of me and bunched up next to me.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or sad...or both. Didn’t want to get attacked upon entering the room.“ I see the right side of his face peek out as well.

I break out into laughter, covering my mouth with one hand, “You’re such a dork.”

He takes this as a sign to come in, pausing the music as he does so. “What’s wrong?”

My laugh stops but a smile remains on my face as I look at him. He just has that effect on me. “A lot. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, plopping down on the couch, “The usual, streaming Among Us. You should play with me and my friends some time.”

I scoff, “I can pull of a lie no problem. Maybe I really should.” I don’t actually consider it, it’s just funny to think about. 

I have never watched any of Corpse’s content. Not his scary story videos, not his streams, not his animated compilations. Just his songs. And let me tell you...they are hella good. One song and I was hooked.

“Hey, I have a question.“ I tilt my head to look at him, “What’s with you and your love for medieval adventure music?“

“Medieval tavern music, and it’s not really love.“ He shakes his head with this dopey grin that is just. so. adorable. “More like a coping mechanism. Tell me, did you feel less sad I played it for you?“

I stop and think for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Point made.“ He declares, leaving me to nod in amusement. “Now, tell me what that ‘a lot’ is.“

So, I do. I tell him everything, from how my boyfriend is cheating on me to how my mother thinks I’m a complete failure. He listens carefully, paying close attention to everything I’m saying. I catch myself laughing a few times while I retell the recent upsetting events.

Must be that music.

“So, you broke up?“ He asks once I end my monologue with a sigh

I shake my head disappointedly, “Not yet. I still haven’t pulled the plug. I don’t know what to say.”

He holds out his hand to me, “May I be of assistance?”

I look at his hand then at him and contemplate for only a second before deciding ‘what the hell’ and handing over my phone after unlocking it. The screen displays my boyfriend’s chat so Corpse just types away what he has in mind. Before pressing ‘send’, he hands the phone back to me. “Proofread it.”

‘Dear Marcus, this is one of your girlfriends speaking. Yes, one of them. You think I’m not onto what you’re doing, you little shit? Well, to your dismay, I am. And so, I discontinue this relation between us. That word might have been too long for your IQ so let me rephrase: We are over. Finished. Hope your other girlfriends wake up too, unless they are already in the know, of course. Love, but really hate, Y/N‘

I was never aware this level of sass even existed.

I add a smiling emoji and send the message, sighing in relief. “I can check that off my to-do list now.”

We both lean back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A moment of comfortable silence takes over, leaving us both wandering in our own heads.

“Hey, um, I wanted to do this when I first moved in, but then I met your boyfriend and I took the hint. Now that you’re single, would you want to...“ he sounds a bit uncertain but continues regardless, “It’s ridiculous cause I don’t really like the idea of going out, but maybe we could order take-out...“

“Are you circling around asking me on an at-home date?“ I am surprised by how unbothered I manage to sound while I’m squealing on the inside. It’s fascinating how quickly a person can flip someone’s day around. Turns out it wasn’t the music at all. It was him that had the positive effect on mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch his face turn red and have to contain my laughter. The grin can’t be tamed though, especially not when he says, “Yes.”

Internally squealing, I launch myself from the couch, standing up straight in front of him. “Thai. My usual order is on the sticky note on the fridge. But first,” I offer him my hand, “I need to find out if a person can even dance to that ridiculous music.” At his amusement, my grin widens, “May I have this dance?”

He laughs that adorable laugh of his I’ve only heard through the layer of a wooden door. It’s even cuter when there’s nothing between me and its source. The source is cute too, not gonna lie.

With a shake of his head which is most likely disbelief, he takes the hand I’ve offered him, saying: “And you call me a dork.” 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[theodora3022]

Playing tricks with the trickster

Summary: Failed escape attempt from yandere Childe. He lets you play your cards, even playing along, just for his own amusement.

Notes: My first genshin piece yay... I had a sweet and terrible dream of me running from Childe in the woods. Also some inspiration was drawn from @cinnamonest‘s this post, one big virtual hug to her! I hope I did Childe justice, what can I say I love manipulative smiling boys. It has become a pattern as I dash from one fandom to another. This is had turned out to be longer then I expected...Ginger boy demands my time and energy too much omg. Mind the warnings, although there is nothing extreme in this.

Fun fact, I was looping to Nintendo game by Alessia Cara when writing this down. I believe it fits the theme of this fic quite well.

Tagging: @akutaguagua a great friend who patiently beta-read this mess of a horror dream and gave me lots of kind praises! 

(Offical art belongs to miHoYo! This is a cover page of this video, if there is any issues, contact me and I will remove it at once)

Warnings: Implied past abduction,dub-con touching, mild degradation, drugging(not on reader), implied non-con/dub-con at the end, this is not healthy love and I do not condone this irl.

It has been nearly a month since the youngest Fatui Harbinger had “taken you in”. After a few tries, you were too horrified by the punishments to continuously fight him. You learned on the first day that Childe’s smiling, the friendly mask would come off towards you. Your behaviour would decide if that is a curse or a “blessing”.

So you had quieted down, struggling to restrain yourself from yelling or screaming, carefully not to provoke his anger. Despite being compliant to his orders, you never truly showed him any affection either. Sure, you would sit on his lap if he asked, but you never initiated anything intimate with him. No matter how much Tartaglia spoiled you with clothes, books, jewelry or other luxuries, he is still the one who holds the commanding end of your shackles. It’s the best not to get used to all of that when your sight is set on the door.

Although he has taken your freedom away, you are not kept in a windowless room. On the contrary, you have too many outings now. Wherever he goes, you have to be present in a 2m radius, including meetings. Being a Harbinger is no easy job, so he prefers not having to worry about your safetly during buisness hours. The best way to do that is never let you out of his sight.

“Love, no one should witness our little problems. Well, no one alive that is.” Of course you wouldn’t want to put innocent people's lives at stake. You never dared to act out when you two are in public, and no one would bat an eye if a Fatui had taken a lover. 

You had taken an emotionless approach towards him. If Childe wants a kiss on the cheek, you’ll give him a quick light peck. If he wants breakfast, you’ll go make some pancakes with the topping he likes. Luckily, Childe had not done anything too extreme yet. If cuddling to sleep does not count as extreme that is. The only time you slipped up is when he suddenly hugs you from behind when you’re cooking.  

You thought maybe, just maybe, by being as boring and dull as you could, this bastard might just get tired of you and let you go. Childe only loves the fun of it right? Or maybe it could lower his guard.

Oh, how naive you are. You should have known better than to underestimate a Fatui harbinger. See, this is exactly why he needs to keep you around. Yes, unfortunately for you, Childe loves you, so very much. Speaking to him with a monotone voice isn’t going to alter that fact.

You have been devoid of emotions as of late. While Childe does appreciate fewer screams for the sake of his eardrums, this schemer can sense you are up to something. Perhaps this is the peace before your “storm”(he thought of it more like a drizzle)

You want to play a game? Okay, why not? Childe cannot wait to see what tricks you got on those sleeves. Are you ever getting away? Does an amateur ever win when they play a game with a professional trickster? Never.

Still, nothing bites like a cornered rat. You are no airhead, and he is fully aware of that. Just not as cunning and observent as him, that’s all.

The way you just kept your emotions sealed up is impressive, even to someone like him. Even when he got hansy, you did not flinch and just stared at the corner. Childe can only catch faint glimpses of anger when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Hm, when are you pulling your trigger? Tonight, or tomorrow night? Not that Childe is impatient, anything from you is worth waiting. But he would need to dismiss his patrolling underlings in the nearby woods beforehand. No extras would be allowed to disturb this game.

There is no chance during the day, a somewhat mutual understanding for you two. Night time in comparison, is a different story. 

Anyone’s sleeping hours is their most vulnerable time of the day, Childe is no exception. You do not plan to harm him, not that you don’t want to. But you are willing to swallow the pent up frustration towards him if you would never see his face again after this. Maybe beating up some slimes would help with the release?

You somehow managed to slip a mixture of herbs into his tea. Since he would buy cooking ingredients for you from time to time, you had requested a bunch of herbs along with the ingredients of a sleep inducing medicine you remembered. Although Childe does all he can to keep you near him, there are inevitable hours that he needs to be somewhere without you. He cannot jeopardize your safety with troublesome monsters. On a side note, he loves showing you off to anyone, his colleagues, acquaintances, business partners, anyone he does not deem a threat.

Enough time for you to make those herbs into powder and cover it up with a few spoons of milk. Tea with milk has become quite popular in Liyue as of late. Childe has grown to love them, so you have learned how to mix it up. He always let you handle his food and drinks, saying that he “trusts you”. What you do not know is this is one of the openings he exposed on purpose. It’s not like you can aquire anything deadly under his suffocating supervision.

Your plan will work, or so you think. Childe will not wake up when you wiggle out of his grasp, because dreamland will keep him occupied. All you need is a glider and a usable sword from Liyue and you’ll get your life back. Bottling up extreme emotions has certainly taken a toll on your mind, but it will be worth it if that is the prerequisite of being free.

Something about this being so easy sits ill with you. Have you really been with the youngest Fatui Harbinger this whole time? But that was brushed off your shoulders by the sheer excitement of regaining your long lost freedom. You know Liyue is in walking distance, all you need to do is cross these woods and-

The moment you dive into the forest, you think you heard an amused chuckle. 

That smooth voice terrifies you to no end, the same voice you took orders from for the past month.

Oh, how Childe loves seeing you happy. It’s priceless, both literally and figuratively. No matter how many things he buys you, you had not shown him even one small smile. Enjoy your sweet freedom, because it ain’t going to last. You certainly will know your place after this right? If not you are just dumber then he give you credit for.

That glow of relief in your eyes is worth every last bit of this intense dizzying feeling to Childe. To make sure your plan go through, he had drunk the tea without hesitation, quick enough to catch the momentarily excitement you expressed. He knows the game is on, therefore he had given the night patrol guards the entire evening off. Forcing himself to stay concious by digging his nails into his palms, Childe followed you into the woods.

Your potion is quite strong. Excellent, you’ll have to give him the recipe for informational purposes later. Especially how you managed to achieve such effects with a few herbs you had. He never took you to be anything less than a smart girl, but this has exceeded his expectations. Where’s the fun in a game without challenges?

How you storm through the forest wearing that cute terrified expression looks so endearing, it’s surely not his fault if he wants to enjoy this sight to be longer right.

So, each time you feel the slightest at ease due to whatever reason, expect Childe to make some sound to send you running like your life depends on it again. The sadistic man is hunting you down playfully, like a cat chasing a stray mouse to the inevitable corner.

You know he is toying with you. There is nothing you can do to make him shut up though.

“Love, you had scratched your leg. Must hurts by the looks of it.”

“Liyue is that way, you know.”

“Are you tired? If you want to jog in the middle of the night, you should have called me to come along!”

How can he say those things nonchalantly while you are trying to escape from him?  Here he is, daunting you with that signature smile he wears so very often. That is when reality slaps you right in the face. No matter how hard you plan, no matter how fast you run, there is no getting rid of him.

When your stamina runs out, a simple pull and push on your left wrist is enough to let you fall onto the ground panting. Even now, you still refuse to beg for mercy. You would take the cold grounds to the warmth of Childe’s embrace anyday. 

“Aw, burnt out already? Pathetic. Looks like we need to work on your stamina more. But this is not the place for exercise.”

“Look at me.” His slender but forceful fingers tilt your head up, making you look into those ocean blue orbs. There is anger present in his eyes, but those emotions are more a mixture of delight and that. His smile had also been replaced by a mocking smirk. “You, trying to leave me? Your sense of humor is...well, let’s just call it unique. Lucky for you, you amused me nonetheless.”

“I know what you’re thinking. How I’m a selfish jerk and you hate me. Why be so ungrateful? You get to live in luxury thanks to me, you know. I am selfish, yes, but look how stupid you are. I know you added something extra in my evening tea, my beloved.”

“Come now, we are going to do some exercises suited for a night like this once we’re back home. It is our one month milestone, after all. You had already given me your gift, it is only fair for you that I do the same.”

Childe is not making a sarcastic remark. The thrill of that chase was the best fun he had in months. And you are going to love his gift too, maybe not right away, but surely sometimes after. 

You have to mentally prepare yourself for the worst as he dragged you back to the prison, hopefully you’ll still be able to walk properly after whatever Childe got in store.

[iloveitwhen]

how about tim and marinette jokingly planning world domination and then accidentally carrying it out (to the annoyance of the batfam)??

this was so fun to write and I hope it makes sense! Marinette and Tim are extremely delirious so it was hard to share their thoughts while also having it make sense to the readers... I hope you like it!

“Dick, stop lying! There’s no way we could have done that. There’s no way we “accidentally took over the world.” Do you really think the two of us could have taken out all seven JLA members?” 

“What day is it, Marinette?” Dick asks instead of answering her question. 

“Tuesday,” Tim answers for her. 

“And the number?”

“Nineteenth,” Marinette crosses her arms and looks at Dick impatiently. 

“It’s Saturday the 23rd,” he declares hotly. “Haven’t you been wondering why you’re so hungry this morning? The two of you have been sleeping for 32 hours and had been awake before that for almost an entire week with maybe an hour of sleep a day. But it’s ok! Because before you fell asleep we got you on camera admitting to everything that you’ve done and we have your notes, which you will have to decipher by the way because for some reason you thought it was a good idea to code everything in your notes and you are in so much trouble right now!” 

“Show us,” Marinette was now understandably a little concerned because she totally did have the weirdest dream last night. And was it really the 23rd?

Five minutes later Marinette is standing side by side with Tim watching a video on the bat computer of the two of them in the interrogation room while Dick is questioning them. 

Marinette’s head is resting on the table, clearly sleeping when Dick slams his hand on the table forcing her to snap her head up in alarm. 

“You are NOT going to sleep right now. The last time this happened you couldn’t remember a thing! Tell me everything and I’ll let you go to sleep.”

Tim who has already been sitting up but was still very much asleep and didn’t seem to be affected by Dick’s outburst snaps his eyes open. 

“How dare you!” he bellows causing Dick and Marinette to look at him in surprise, Marinette’s much more exaggerated than Dick’s, “We will never agree to these terms!”

There are a few moments of silence in the video and Tim makes a noise of embarrassment from the back of his throat while Marinette holds back laughter. 

“I wouldn’t laugh quite yet, Marinette,” Dick admonishes. 

“Wait I’m really tired though… ,” Marinette complains to Tim.

“Great!” Dick claps his hands together and turns his attention to Marinette, “after you tell me everything you can go to sleep.”

Marinette nods very seriously then takes a deep breath and shakes her shoulders as if she’s hyping herself up to start a race or lift some heavy weights. She looks at a point on the wall a few feet to the right of Dick’s head and begins speaking as if she is a narrator of a science documentary. 

Marinette cringes, some of the memories coming back to her like how she had believed she had one more mission, and that was to let the audience know the “trials and tribulations of their story” as she had so eloquently thought about it in her head. She watches as Video Marinette recounts their story remembering that she had believed it was a serious story and that the imaginary audience (that she wholeheartedly believed were watching) must understand this.  Her hand goes to her mouth in horror as she watches herself on the screen go silent and stare at the point behind Dick’s shoulder for several awkward minutes, several times throughout the video. She remembers she had been trying to portray the scene that was passing before her mind’s eye for the “audience” to see as well. Clearly it didn’t work. 

---

** italics indicate when Marinette is using her narrating voice and is staring into the “camera” 

** dashes indicate flashbacks

“It was an accident.” Marinette starts, “Really, truly an accident. You can’t blame two delirious teenagers with a combined two hours of sleep within 3 days and half a brain cell to share between them. Honestly you can’t judge them, it’s not their fault the Lustice Jeague- Justilea- Just- Justice. League. Fell for it. You just can’t. It’s not their fault the justice league-”

“Marinette.” Dick interrupts.

“Right. Did I already say that? Well, anyways, point is. Not their fault….” 

-------

Marinette pops her head suddenly and looks conspiratorially at Tim, “Hey.”

“Hmm,” not stopping his clacking away at his computer. 

“Did you know Superman’s biggest weakness is Lois Lane?”

Time grunts in response as if saying, “yeah, what about it?”

“Like, he would literally be incapable of doing anything if Lois Lane was in trouble, like if Lois Lane disappeared so would Superman.” 

“Yeah that’s crazy,” still clacking away at his computer. 

“And do you know what Batman’s biggest weakness is?” 

“Superman?” 

Marinette giggles, “that’s funny. No, his pants.” Tim’s finger’s still as he processes what Marinette just said. “Think about it. If batman has no pants then he would disappear as well. Do you really think Batman would show up anywhere if he had no pants?” A pause. “Batman must really love his pants,” Marinette adds thoughtfully.

Tim begins ferociously clacking away on his computer again. “This is amazing,” he whispers, “we can use this against them! Amazing,” he says, whispering the last word with, well, amazement. 

“I know, right? We could like… take over the world with this information or something.” 

Tim gasps, finally turning to Marinette sprawled on his bed, “we totally could!” Suddenly he looks around and lowers his voice as if sharing a secret, as if there was anyone else besides Marinette to hear anyway. Marinette sits up and leans in excitedly, “we totally could,” he repeats. 

Marinette nods her head enthusiastically, “and we can totally give it back afterwards. Like, it’s no big deal. Just to like, prove we could.” 

Tim’s eyes grow wide and he nods his head with child-like excitement, “let’s do it.” 

-------

“24 hours later, now with 7 hours of sleep between them in four days, Marinette and Tim had developed the most bestestest plan to ever grace the mise of anyone, it was-”

“Mise?” Dick interrupts again, trying to figure out what she was saying. 

Marinette scrunches her face up, “My- mizzzee- my- m- myyy-nnnd. Mind.” She finally corrects then turns her focus back to the imaginary camera, “of anyone who ever lived. It was spectacular.”

“This is horrific.”

“Exactly. So horrible that it worked miraculously. I say that totally seriously. Seriously. No, I am not a miraculous, ask Ladybug.” Marinette then switches demeanor shifts in her seat and asks: “Ladybug?” she shifts in her seat again to slightly face the opposite direction and answers herself, “Yes?” She shifts again. “Are you a miraculous?” Shifts. “No. I am not.” Marinette looks back into the imaginary camera, “See? She says Marinette is not Ladybug….” she trails off for a moment, her head slowly dropping indicating she was very close to falling asleep. 

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Marinette snaps her head back up.

“Oh but it has. Tim and Marinette had targeted every single weak point of every JMLA member, the Jumpstice League stood no chance against the duo. Tim crafted a device that tracked Lois Lane, gathering any and all data on her to mimic her, including her heartbeat and scent so that Superman would be properly duped. Setting the trap in his very own house-” she suddenly cuts herself off and looks between Tim and Dick, “by the way did you know? That man is like, super weak to Kryptonite. It would have been so much easier to know that in the beginning. And also that he has a cousin? She’s very pretty, right, Tim?” She turns to her boyfriend who is looking at her with a soft smile.

“Mmhm. You’re very pretty.” 

Marinette ignores him and continues, “So Tim and Marinette trapped him in a cage of kryptonite-”

“You did WHAT!?”

“-and he totally passed out, the two heroes are still a bit confused why he was making such a big deal about it.” Marinette pays no mind to Dick as he reaches out and shakes his hands like he wants to strangle her neck.  “Tim then crafted a signal miminicking a detest call-”

“Distress,” Dick corrects. 

“-distress call from Themyscira rendering Wonder Woman unavailable. Unfortunately for her and fortunately for us it was her birthday and since I’m good friends with Momma Wonder,” she abruptly turns to Dick and points a finger at him as if he was a five year old in trouble and adds: “that’s Queen Hipopotolia to you, Mister,” before turning back, “they threw her a total rager,” again changing her demeanor and rolls her eyes “which I’m missing right now by the way, so she’ll be gone for a few more days, those gals really know how to party…. 

“Then the Flash. He was easier than the two expected, they meanly- I mean merely, well, meanly too- slapped a speed force inhibitor around his wrists. He couldn’t tap into the speed force to vibrate through it, he couldn’t cut it off, he would definitely die including everyone else in a mile radius-” Marinette swivels her head to Dick and smacks the table,”-nuclear bombs are SUPER dangerous by the way, you really don’t want to mess with them. 

“He couldn't contact anyone, any electric device he came across was rendered useless due to Tim’s genius, once again. 

“You’re so smart, baby, they couldn't have done this without you,” she adds out of the blue looking at Tim with a proud smile 

“Mhmm. You’re so pretty,” he repeats while Dicks drops his head into his hands. 

“They knew the Flash had friends so they did what they had to and locked him in one of those big containers that you sometimes see on trains and sometimes see on big ships and is currently in the middle of the ocean. Also that inhibitor thingy works as a shock collar too so like screaming electrocutes him preeeetty bad.”

“If the JLA doesn’t kill the both of you, I will.”

“The Martian Manhunter, well, you know what they say, show, don’t tell…. Marinette looks deep into the “camera” willing it to see what she was seeing.

--------

“J’onn J'onzz.” The green alien turns around to find two young adults who looked uncharacteristically professional, hands clasped behind their straight backs and serious expressions.

“...Ladybug. Red Robin. What can I do for you?” J’onn places an alien piece of tech down to focus on the two of them. Unfortunately he could not read Ladybug’s mind when she was in the suit and Red Robin’s mind was a mess of noises and jumbled thoughts that made no sense whatsoever, except one that was a bit louder than the rest and was repeated like a mantra. 

Christmas eve, 1998. 

J’onn tensed, “What do you want,” he demanded more than asked, overly concerned about how and why that thought was in Red Robin’s mind. 

“Nothing. Exactly that. Nothing,” Ladybug responded. “We need you to leave, to go somewhere for a few days and to not resurface or interfere in any way, shape, or form. And in return we will delete anything and everything that ever existed on Christmas Eve of 1998. It’ll be like it never existed.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

Ladybug suddenly broke her composure and groaned. “Oh come oooon, We promise no one will get hurt!” she linked her hands together and gave the Martian a pout, “pleeaaseee?” 

“The last time you two were like this you “accidentally” created a multimillion dollar company solely based on cosplay.” Ladybug was not phased and Tim was still chanting Christmas Eve, 1998 in his head, the boy probably wasn’t even aware time had passed since he got there. J’onn sighed, whatever they were up to it probably wasn’t too big of a deal. “Fine. But I want proof everything is deleted.” 

“Yess, it’s a deal, big man. See you in a few days! C’mon Tim.” 

“Can I stop repeating that thing in my head now?”

------

“Marinette.”

She breaks and looks at Dick impatiently, “I’m telling a story right now, what do you want?”

“You’ve been staring at the wall for 5 minutes straight, where is Martian Manhunter?”

“Oh I don’t know, he should be back on Tuesday though,” she shrugs and nods at the same time but like a switch has been flipped she is serious again. “As for Aquaman? Well, he has his own problems in the undersea. As you know the detective of Justice is Batman, Aquaman? Not much of a detective at all. But, having a mystery that needed to be solved in the undersea would have to be done with the bat’s assistance. However, Batman had his own problems to mace. 

“Face?”

“Yes. A problem that he will never be able to solve without asking for little help of his own. Unfortunately for him, his pride and dignity was on the verge of devolution- devil- devolve… ded- destru- destruction! Also all communication to Alfred was severed and he was sent to the Bahamas to relax since Tim and Marinette promised that since Batman would not be able to be fight he would be safe.”

“Ohhh is that where he went? No wonder there was no breakfast this morning.” Tim drops his hand supporting his face and looks at Marinette in wonder. 

“Babe we went over this like one time, you should know this.”

“Oh, right, yeah… I still haven’t eaten.” Tim lays his head down on his arm sadly and promptly falls asleep. 

“And last, and definitely least, Green Lantern. Marinette, miraculoused in her all-black ninja suit- wait no- no miraculous involved, it was just black clothes,” Marinette trailed off and snorted. “I really just stole the Green Lanterns ring… It was uhhh, it was actually kind of easy….

“Marinette had slipped the ring from Hal’s hand and put it on her own, quickly and quietly slipping out the way she came but not before taking the battery thing that powers the ring and stealing every single cup in the house. The ring had then proved useful as it assisted in Marinette’s journey.”

“Wait. How?” 

Marinette shrugs as if it weren’t such a big deal when it definitely was. “I don’t know, it actually gave me a little speech about going to Goodwill and then told me I was a lantern. Wait, do you think someone would have bought me if I posed as a lantern…? Oh yeah! I totally had a green suit and everything, it was crazy. Look! I still have it,” she stuck her hand out to show Dick, the thick green ring almost making contact with his face as she practically jumped over the table to show him. “I don’t want to give it back to Hal though it’s like… a really cool ring,” she says sadly as she sits back down, not giving Dick an actual chance to look at the ring. 

“Ok. Ok.” Dick drags a hand through his hair in frustration. “What about batman? Where is he?”

Marinette shoots both of her hands up and points at the one way mirror behind Dick’s head, “Boom! Right behind ya in that there mirror.” Then she again turns to the imaginary camera to continue her saga.

“Batman. The easiest, yet most difficult. The smartest, yet most helpless. And though Marinette and Tim wish they could have said they did it alone, they desperately needed the help of a certain… seductress.” 

---

Selena Kyle leans a hip into the counter of a kitchen, quietly making tea when a dark red and black tangle of something falls through an open window and crashes onto the floor, bumping into the family dining table and rattling the vase of wilting flowers. Selena curses loudly and goes to flee but realizes what, or rather who the pile of dark red and is. It’s Red Robin and Ladybug, otherwise known as Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

The two groan loudly and clumsily untangle themselves and flop on the ground next to each other apparently too lazy to stand up at the moment. 

“Hey,” Ladybug says, moving her head to the side to look at the standing woman. 

“Hey,” Selena takes a sip of her tea and almost laughs when she realizes that Red Robin had either been knocked out or  had simply fallen asleep. 

Ladybug’s words are slurred together when she says, “we need your help,” while slowly blinking. Either she was on something, very drunk, or very sleep deprived. Knowing the two of them and considering Red Robin was fast asleep on the floor it was probably the sleep deprivation. 

Selena acts as though she’s considering it even though she would help regardless, whatever it was these two were planning she wanted in. 

“Only if you agree to owe me a favor.” 

Ladybug (who had closed her eyes for a moment) snapped her eyes open and grinned, quite evilly, “what we’re planning will be favor enough.” Then, as if the conversation had ended, rolled her head around taking her surroundings in, “this isn’t your house.” 

Selena chuckles, “no it’s not, but you found me here anyways.”

“Ohhhhh, right I forgot about that, do you know the person who owns this house?” Selena shakes her head and Marinette hums in response, wandering her eyes over the kitchen. “So what do you say about the pant situation?” 

“The what?”

------

“The mystery woman had easily fallen for the trap. With her help, Tim and Marinette had almost succeeded in world domination, all that was left was to carry out the plans….”

---

Dick pauses the video and turns to the two heroes who were blushing furiously and fidgeting, waiting until they could bolt. 

“I thought you were going to sit there for a few more minutes then start talking again but you just kept sitting there until I realized you had fallen asleep with your eyes open.” He huffed and started to type into the computer again. “You’re lucky none of the JLA members got hurt or that this-” he clicks a file “video did not get out to the world.”

Ladybug and Red Robin stand in a professional stance with hands clasped behind their backs, they were standing slightly off-center of the screen with an empty JLA table behind them.  

“Good evening, world. I am Ladybug.”

“And I am Red Robin.”

“We have single handedly disposed of the JLA.”

“They will no longer terrorize our world-”

“Burn down our cities-”

“Trample us underfoot-”

“Wait-” Ladybug breaks character and turns to Red Robin, “are we describing Godzilla?”

Red Robin furrows his brow for a moment before bursting out in laughter, grabbing onto Ladybug and dragging her down into hysterics as well. They fall to the floor out of view of the camera but their guffaws are still spilling over the speakers very loudly. 

Several minutes later they stand up, wiping their tear-streaked cheeks.

“Anyways,” Red Robin continues, a chuckle still present in his voice, “We totally have taken over the world and you!” he points into the camera.

“Are!” Ladybug repeats his movement.

“Under our control!” they chorus together, pointing their thumbs at themselves as if this were some sort of disney channel ad, some sort of joke and that they hadn’t just literally threatened world domination, hadn’t just succeeded in world domination. 

They held the pose for a moment before Red Robin relaxed, Ladybug held her pose and continued to look into the camera while Red Robin reached up and paused the video.

“Luckily,” Dick begins, “You streamed the video straight to your own computer and not to the entire world, and luckily, you left your computer open on the dining tables for Duke to see it and for the rest of us, minus Jason,” he adds hotly, “to fix your mess.” 

“At least you caught the perpetrator?” Marinette adds helpfully, her voice going up like a question and her face scrunched up hoping that the comment would placate Dick.

It did not. 

Bonus:

Dick has both Marinette and Tim sitting side by side in an interrogation room, Tim is smiling and staring at Marinette with hearts in his eyes and sighing happily every once in a while Marinette is staring intently at the wall a few feet to the right of Dick’s head and talking as if she were the narrator of the documentary of her Tim’s “adventure” of literally taking over the world. 

“This is insane.” Bruce Wayne whispers behind the one way glass with a towel wrapped around his waist, every single pair of pants he owned was still missing. And would continue to be missing until he admitted he needed help, the rest of the batfam had collectively agreed to not help him until he asked for help, much to Bruce’s chagrin. 

Bonus Bonus: 

The video is shaky but clear, it’s facing a dingy empty stage with a lone mic stand in the middle at what seems to be Karaoke night in an even dingier bar. The crowd is mostly quiet save for the buzz of conversation until the start of “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey starts and everyone cheers. The camera violently shakes and Hal Jordan’s voice booms through the speakers,

“Let’s go babyyyyy!!” 

A few moments later and J’onn J’onzz, in his human form, hops onto the stage clearly hammered and most definitely not in control of his actions. He dances awkwardly around the stage until the first lyrics on the screen behind him light up. 

“Oh when you walk by every night, talkin sweet and lookin fine, I get kinda hectic inside,” along with the words he points to someone in the crowd then puts the back of his hand to his forehead to indicate “swooning”. 

“Oh baby, I’m so into you,” he clumsily hops off the stage and staggers over to someone at one of the front tables. The video zoomed in for a bit and focuses on the woman who briefly looks around her table with a laugh and she raises her strong arms, welcoming the drunk martian. 

“Darling, if you only knew,” J’onn’s smile was so wide and he laughed into the mic instead of singing the next few lyrics. He forced Wonder Woman’s chair from the table with his telekinesis, and with an excessive amount of exaggeration he circled the chair, dragging his hand over her face. The other women, more Amazons by the looks of their arms, pounded the table howling in laughter. 

“But it’s just a sweet, sweet fantasy, baby, When I close my eyes, you come and take me,” he circles to her front and boops her nose as he sings “take me” before turning around and facing the stage. 

“On and on and on,” he looks back at Wonder Woman seductively and winks, “it’s so deep in my daydreams,” he hops back on the stage, “but it’s just a-” his foot gets tangled in the mic’s cords and his voice is cut off when he tries to save himself from smashing into the ground. 

He fails. 

Laughter erupts in the bar and the camera is slammed onto a table and Hal’s wheezing is heard above the others before the video cuts off.

phew *wipes brow* that was... actually a loooooottttt, but I hope it made you laugh and i really hope it wasn’t confusing to read! *smiles awkwardly and waves* byee....

[chiliiscereal]

So my friend has been on and off lately.

I decided to write this for me cause I needed it.

Requests are open!

Chosen last

Summary:

Readers friends only invite them to things if they have no one else to go with. Reader keeps their mouth shut about it and just guesses that this is how friendship works. One day they meet the turtles and April, and for once they’re not chosen last.

Pairing: platonic turtles x reader

(Implied female reader but I’ll do my best to avoid pronouns! Sorry if a she/her slips out)

“I couldn’t find anyone else to go with me so do you want to tag along?”

“I had a plus one and everyone else was busy.”

“No one else can make it and I don’t want to be lonely. Wanna go with me?”

“Sorry I guess I forgot to invite you!”

“What do you mean you were there? I could have sworn you were somewhere else... huh poor memory I guess.”

“Sorry! There’s no room for you to come with! Next time for sure though!”

All of those were common things you’d heard before.

You weren’t exactly sure if it was a normal thing in friendships. It must be since no one else mentioned it.

Still, it hurt that you weren’t prioritized. You were always the last thought. Last minute.

And you always said yes.

Someone needs you to be their plus one for the dance so they don’t look bad?

There you are.

Someone needs a wingman for this boy they like?

You’re already on your way.

It’s not that you minded.

You just wanted to be... appreciated.

You just wanted them to see you.

Maybe they would if you kept trying.

Maybe they would if you made them a homemade gift for each birthday.

Maybe they would if you always answered back their texts right away.

You thought you needed to earn the right to be appreciated.

You realized how wrong you were when you met the turtles.

————

You brought your jacket closer around your body, shivering.

Of course you had to walk home! Alone! In the dark! In the RAIN!

Apparently it was too much to ask for a ride home after hanging out. There wasn’t enough room in the car!

Of course.

Just like every other time, asking to come along was too much.

You shivered again as rain dripped down your back.

“This sucks.” You groaned.

You eyed every dark alley way. You’d read enough fanfiction to expect some cringey creepy man to come out and attack you.

But what DID attack you was completely unexpected.

“LOOK OUT!” A voice shouted.

You didn’t even have time to flinch before something landed on top of you. The weight of it brought you to the ground with a shriek.

“Sorry about that!”

That wasn’t a ‘something’ but a someone!

They scrambled off you quickly.

You stood up and whipped around, rubbing your aching head. “What the hell were you doing?! Do you do parkour on the rooftops or something?!”

Ugh, today just wasn’t your day.

Finally, you glanced up.

They... they clearly weren’t a human.

Green skin...

Orange dots?

A... a shell??

And an orange mask.

Your jaw nearly dropped.

The creature gave you a sheepish grin. “Umm... hey! Yeah... maybe.. possibly... I was doing parkour on the roof...?” He rubbed the back of his neck and eyed the sky, a blush forming across his face. “I was on my way... my way to the comic con!”

He must be looking for a way to leave.

You weren’t ready for that though. You still needed to know what he was! And possibly his name!

You inched closer, holding your phone closer. Just in case. “What... what exactly are you?”

His eyes were on the floor now, as if your words had made him... upset.

“Sorry if that offended you!” You responded immediately. Ugh why did you word it like that? You didn’t mean it as if you thought he was a monster! “I just... I’ve had a really confusing night, my mouth runs faster than my brain, and I just got body slammed into the cement!” You rubbed the back of your head again.

He seemed much more satisfied with this answer. “Well... I don’t think you’d believe me...”

You eyed him up and down. “Dude, I think just looking at you would be enough for me to believe you.”

He let out a small laugh. “So ummm... yeah. I’m a turtle?”

You frowned. “Yeah, I think I see that.”

Well this was a strange turn of conversation.

Why not?

It’s New York after all.

He shuffled nervously. “People aren’t really supposed to know about it.”

You waved him off. “Psh, I don’t have anyone that would want to hear it or believe me anyway.” You stepped closer, your grip on your phone loosening. “Honestly, that’s pretty cool! I didn’t know people like you existed!”

It hurt but it was true.

Your friends would think you were making stuff up for attention.

“MIKEY!”

The new voice cause you to nearly jump out of your skin.

Three people, just like this guy, landed by his side.

One with a red mask and build like a tank.

Another with a blue mask and strange yellow stripes.

The last one had a purple mask and a staff of some kind.

“Are you okay, little man?” The red one asked worriedly. “You just took a huge fall!”

“I swear you’re gonna be feeling that a week from now.” The blue one snorted, resting his SWORD on his shoulder like it was a baseball bat.

“I estimate it’ll be closer to three weeks.” The purple one corrected, tapping a device on his wrist.

You stepped back.

There were more people like... Mikey? Was that his name?

Well, might as well find some way to get into this conversation. You weren’t gonna let the most interesting thing that ever happened to you slip away.

“You’re name’s Mikey?” You asked, the three surrounding the orange masked turtle jumping.

“Human!” The blue masked one shouted.

The large red one shoved Miley behind him. “Hi! Uh... we... we were just on our way to Comic-Con!”

“Guys-.” Mikey tried only to get Interrupted.

“Could you help us find our way?” The purple one joined, cutting him off.

You raised an eyebrow. “Nice try. I already know you guys are turtles.”

“Dang it Mikey!” The blue one shoved Mikey. “You just gonna spill our secret to everyone you meet in New York?”

“She deserves to know!” Mikey squeaked. “I messed up a flip and body slammed her into the concrete!” He turned to you, eyes hopeful. “And... she didn’t seem scared of me!”

This stopped the other boys.

Mikey shoved them all away from him. “These are my brothers! Leo,” he pointed at the blue one, “Donnie,” the purple one, “and Raph!”

You waved awkwardly, eyes landing warily on the largest one.

These guys didn’t seem as sweet and trusting as Mikey.

Donnie was looking you up and down for any sign of a threat.

Leo has his sword out.

Raph has his tonfas ready in his fists.

Maybe it’d be better to just leave.

“I’m not gonna tell anyone.” You shook your head to further emphasize your point. “I was just walking home anyway. All of this...” you spread out your arms, “was a complete accident.”

Mikey gave you a toothy grin. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He turned to his skeptical brothers. “She seems nice! She could be just like April!”

You kicked at the ground sheepishly now that the attention was back to you. “You can just go and I won’t tell anyone.”

“We can’t just let you go.” Donnie scoffed.

For a split second, you thought they were going to kill you for finding out their secret. Or kidnap you. Something bad.

“Not with that whole situation.” He gestured to your forehead.

Curiously, you reached up and touched it.

Your fingers were wet with blood.

Go figure.

“No, it’s fine, really.” You assured them. “My apartment isn’t too far-.”

“Please, it’s fine.” Raph waved you off. “It’ll make up for this bonehead over here.” He loosely jabbed his thumb in Mikeys direction.

You wanted to say yes.

You wanted to say yes so badly.

“I don’t know, you probably got plans.” Leo shrugged, putting his sword away. “It’s a Friday afternoon, after all.”

That was enough for you to make a decision.

“No, I’m actually free.” You offered. “I actually don’t even have a medicine kit at my house-.”

“Alright let’s go!” Mikey grabbed your wrist excitedly and lead the way, not even waiting for you to finish your sentence.

————

You only meant to spend ten or fifteen minutes there, tops.

But after Donnie had your head taken care of Mikey wanted to know if you wanted to play a video game.

You couldn’t say no.

Then, after an hour of the Lou jitsu game, Leo wanted to know if you wanted to check out his sword.

You felt like you had to say yes.

It’s not every day you get to see a sword!

After accidentally getting portalled to New Jersey and FINALLY making your way back, Donnie wanted to know if he could borrow you.

He needed to fix his computer and he needed your smaller fingers to reach the back for him.

Saying no just wasn’t an option.

After almost exploding the poor piece of technology, Raph wanted to know if you knew April O’Neil.

You heard them mention her earlier but you didn’t know they meant THAT April. You’d seen her around before but never really talked to her. Who knew she’d be involved with mutants from the sewer?

He invited April to join them as well.

He thought some human company and someone who would make you feel more normal about the whole situation would make you more comfortable.

He was right.

April was AWESOME.

You hadn’t realized how loud and how fun she could be!

She talked to you about how she met the turtles and every little adventure they went on!

You hoped, secretly, that you could be a part of newer ones.

Eventually, the time came for you to leave.

You were sad of course, but you felt happier than you had in days.

You left with five new numbers in your contacts list and a baked green bean casserole from a rat.

Maybe you should get body slammed into the concrete more often.

————

“Wanna go to that party with me after school?” Your friend asked casually at the lunch table. “Dana couldn’t go with me and everyone else is busy. I need a plus one!”

You smiled as you responded to a meme Leo sent you, your friends words going in one ear and out the other.

“Y/n.” She asked again.

Still no response.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You snapped out of it and straightened up. “What?”

“You and I are going to a party after school.” She informed you. “We should probably pick out our outfits right when it ends. I don’t know if I’ll be able to drive you but you can just walk-.”

“Oh,” you picked your phone up again, “sorry, I have plans.”

This got her to stop. “You have plans? But you never have plans?”

Your other friend snickered. “Yeah, you’re a hermit! You never go out or do anything!”

You blushed furiously. “I’m going to my friends house to watch a movie, okay? I’m not a hermit.”

“A friend, huh?” One of them rolled her eyes. “How come I’ve never heard of them before?”

“I just met them last month.” You picked at your shirt nervously. Why weren’t they happier for you?

“Them?” Another repeated, shocked. “You have more than one knew friend?”

“Yeah.” You straightened up a bit. “Them. They’re super nice but they don’t go to our school.”

The first one rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever, think what you want. But I need you to sit with me and Jake at the park tomorrow so he can compare-.”

You didn’t even let her begin to finish her sentence. “I’m busy that day.”

“Again?” She gaped. “Seriously?”

“Now you’re just making stuff up.” Another scoffed.

“Why is it so unbelievable that I’d be busy?” You glared at them, clutching your phone protectively. “You’re all busy all the time! Why can’t I be?”

They glanced at each other with knowing looks.

“Because you barely talk to anyone! No offense, but you can be really boring.” The one next to you shrugged. “What even is your friends name anyway? You’d have said their name if they were real.”

You felt your face heating up.

Boring?

Quiet?

“His name Mikey.” You grumbled. “And maybe I don’t talk because none of you give me a chance!”

“A boy?!” The one in front of you gasped. They didn’t even acknowledge any of your other words. “Please, how could you score a boy?”

“He’s probably really ugly, no offense y/n.” One chuckled as if she were joking.

You had enough. “You know, I’m feeling a little crowded. I’m gonna go sit somewhere else.”

“You don’t even have anyone to sit with! You’re a hermit, remember?” One girl called out to you.

“I do have someone to sit with.” You growled, heading for April’s table. You should have started sitting with her a long long LONG time ago.

“Alright, see you Monday I guess.” Was the reply.

The way they just blew it off... UGH. You wanted to punch something.

“Hey, what brings you to the cool kid table?” April grinned, shoving Dale over to make room. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your other friends?”

You managed to shove away the buzzing anger in your head, replacing your frown with a matching smile. “Nah, there’s not enough room for me AND their egos.”

April snorted, assuming you were joking. “Well there’s always room for you here!”

Those were words you’d waited too long to hear.

—————

You still saw your old friends and occasionally filled in for them when they needed an extra.

But you denied their offers more and more.

For once, you knew what it felt like to be prioritized.

“Hey we’re gonna watch a Lou Jitsu movie, wanna come?”

“I saw this glass painting trend online and I thought you’d want to come over and do it with me!”

“I heard this song and I thought you’d like it. Here’s the link!”

“Check our this hilarious meme!”

“Dale and I are gonna go to that shin dig. I don’t know if that’s you’re thing but you’re welcome to join us!”

What a refreshing change of pace

Let me know if I should make a part two!

[themaribatpit]

Hanging by a Thread: Chapter 3

Rated M: DC canon-typical violence, suggestive threats

Author’s Note: Neither of us are actually American, and DC Fanboy has some gripes with certain American habits.  Please feel free to tell us how uncultured we are in the comments, and try and explain yourselves to non-Americans.

Ships: Jason Todd/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon (side ship).

Taglist:

@aespades​, @neakco, @ladybug-182, @seraphichana, @zalladane, @luminous-carrot, @jayjayspixiepop, @cap-noodles, @livelifeauthorstyle, @thepaceperson, @moongoddesskiana, @vroomtaka, @laurcad123,  @prettylittlebutterflie

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4​

Chapter 3

Dick slumped down on a chair when they returned to the Belfry.  He ripped off his domino mask and let out a sigh. “Damn he’s good, then again he was taught by the best.” 

“Dick!” Barbara gave him a dirty look. They both looked towards their French guest to see her still lost in thought. 

Ladybug transformed back to Marinette, and then slowly walked over to get herself another cup of hot chocolate to cheer herself up. As she operated the multi hot drinks machine in the Belfry, she thought about how incredibly convenient the device was. Barbara and Dick mentioned that unless it was winter, no one else used it for hot chocolate. 

Hot chocolate dispensed from the machine, and as she picked up the paper cup, a shadow loomed over her. She was able to make out the silhouette of an imposing figure with demonic pointed ears. She squealed in shock, spilling her hot chocolate on the figure. 

Dick rolled off the chair laughing, “Oh, better fly away home Ladybug.” “How long have you been waiting to use that joke?” Barbara said without looking away from the screen.

“Since the moment I met her, Babs,” Dick retorted.

After the initial shock, Marinette was able to see the figure clearly and realised she just spilled hot chocolate on Batman. The Batman. Marinette paled at what she had done, she fumbled around looking for tissues. All the while apologising profusely as she tried to find anything to wipe the Caped Crusader clean from this chocolatey mess. Her mind ran at a mile a minute, thinking of what Batman would do to her for spilling hot chocolate on him. She thought of how Batman would squish her like a bug, or perhaps he would break all of her limbs, and send her on the first flight back to Paris while tied to the cargo hold. Her mind was catastrophizing and going into a full panic as she stumbled around the kitchenette. 

Marinette found a damp cloth and began wiping Batman vigorously from head to toe and hoping it would somehow lessen her punishment. She looked up to see that Batman continued to stare at her with his infamous glare. Seeing that her attempts to clean up her mess had no effect, she ran back towards the main room and grabbed Dick, holding him in front of her as a shield. 

Batman slowly followed, without saying a word he stomped into the main room and came to a halt right in front of Dick. “Uh, hi.” Dick awkwardly greeted Batman. Marinette shakingly peeked her head out from behind. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as Ladybug.” Batman’s low voice boomed with authority. “What are you doing here in Gotham?” 

Marinette yelped and went back to hiding behind Dick. Barbara interjected, “She’s here to investigate a recent use of the Lazarus Pit, mainly the Red Hood. From what we gather the creatures that give her power were also the ones who created the pits.” She explained on Marinette’s behalf. 

An uncomfortable silence hung in the room as Batman contemplated her answer. “Fine,” he relented. He turned and walked away. 

Marinette released a sigh of relief as she saw Batman leave. Dick took out his phone and began tapping on it, he just had to notify the rest of the Bat Family of what had just transpired. After a few moments he put his phone back in his pocket and walked away, “I’ll get a mop” he yelled back at Marinette and Barbara. 

Marinette then slumped on the dining table, hands in her head. Completely embarrassed at how she made a fool of herself in front of one of the world’s greatest heroes. Barbara calmly patted her back in consolation. After she calmed down and got herself another cup of hot chocolate, Marinette decided to head home.

On the way back to the apartment she shared with Zoe, she checked the messages that Zoe sent her during the past couple of days.  “Hey, are you okay?” The first one read.  “I haven’t seen you in the apartment for a while now,” she said, followed by a message that said “Please don’t be dead, I can’t afford rent by myself.” Marinette sent a quick reply saying, “I’m okay, I’ve just been busy taking care of some things.  See you tonight.” she said. When Marinette got home, she logged onto her computer to see a few messages from Alya, asking her of how she found Gotham City. Expressing worry for her friend, especially with the notoriety of Gotham's crime rate.

Marinette typed up "Hi Alya! Gotham is all right, I can take care of myself, you know that."

Alya decided to video call Marinette and her face appeared on screen. "Hey!" Alya waved her hand to her friend.

"Hi" Marinette gave a tired wave back.

"Everything okay?" Asked Alya.

"Fine, just tired from moving into the new place." She explained.

"By the way, could you open up a portal with Kaalki to my room?" asked Alya.

Marinette complied with her friend, as she put on the horse Miraculous and opened a portal. Soon a paper bag dropped from the ceiling and landed on the floor. "I had a feeling you might want something to cheer you up, I went to your parents' patisserie earlier."

Marinette opened up the bag to see several treats from the bakery.  She thanked her best friend profusely, and began eating them “How are things back in Paris?” Marinette asked, taking a macaron out of one of the boxes, she smiled as she took a bite out of it.  It was almost like she was 13 again, and her dad had given her a box of macarons for the first day of school.  

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Alya said, winking at her. “So, have you met any of Gotham’s vigilantes yet?” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck.  “Well, yeah,” she might as well tell her some of the things that happened.  “I accidentally spilled hot chocolate on Batman’s cape,” she confessed. “And you’re still alive?” Alya’s mouth hung open in shock. “Well, he does have a pretty strict ‘no killing’ policy,” Marinette told her. “Okay fair enough, how are you still in one piece?” Alya asked, still somewhat shocked.

“He just kinda glared at me, and I hid behind one of his sidekicks.” Marinette told her, “So, that’s how.” “Ah so you’ve met the sidekicks then,”  Alya gave her another knowing smile. “Some of them, Nightwing being one of them.” Marinette told her. “Did you get a good look at his assets?”  Alya gave her a wink, and Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure his assets were spoken for,” Marinette said, and before Alya could say anything more she quickly added “and no, I am not telling you who the lucky person is.” “You’re no fun.” Alya pouted mockingly, but she couldn’t stay angry at her friend.  Alya noticed the faraway look in Marinette’s eyes at that moment, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Marinette wondered how best to phrase it, “do you know anything about the Red Hood?” she asked.

Alya’s eyes widened in shock, “You’ve met him? Are you and Zoe living in his territory?”

“No, at least not that I know of, I just…” Marinette assured her, “Do you know anything about him?” “Give me a moment,” Alya said, quickly turning away to search for something on her laptop screen, “must have heard something about the guy…” she muttered.  Marinette never really told Alya about her soulmate bond, and she wasn’t about to start now.  “Says here he’s a crime lord that operates in Gotham City, that he took over Black Mask’s crime syndicate not too long ago…” Alya told her, “Pretty brutal to those who cross him, by the sound of things.” “Good to know,” Marinette muttered. “Marinette, are you sure you and Zoe are okay?” Alya asked. “We’re fine, just that Ladybug ran into him while working with Batman’s sidekicks.” Marinette told her. “I should have been there, it would have been a fun interview for Ladyblog.” Alya chuckled, and Marinette raised an eyebrow.  “I mean, after the fight of course, or maybe I should just stop talking.” “Try pitching the idea to Vicki Vale or Lois Lane, I’m sure they would jump at the chance.” Marinette joked.

"Just you wait until I get my Journalism degree, I'll bother you everyday for a scoop." Alya retorted. The two of them continued to laugh and joke with one another before Marinette went to bed.

The next morning, Marinette was woken by someone gently nudging her awake.  “Get dressed dummy, we’re going out.” she heard a voice say. Marinette looked up and blinked a few times before Zoe’s face came into view.  “What time is it?” Marinette groaned. “9am,” Zoe told her, “we are going to go out and get some breakfast together.” Marinette groaned in response, but slowly got out of bed.  Zoe leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms and smiling.  She chuckled slightly at the sight of Marinette’s tousled hair, Marinette smiled slightly in response.  “All right, all right, give me some time to get dressed.” she said and Zoe left, closing the door behind her. 

The two friends sat down to eat breakfast at a nearby diner, and Zoe began telling Marinette all the ways in which America was very different from France.  “First of all, they call the 24 hour clock ‘military time’, I never understood that.” she explained before taking a bite of her pancakes.  Americans made pancakes a lot thicker and fluffier compared to crepes, was another thing Marinette noticed.  “Oh, no more 2 hour lunch breaks, and as a French person, you will get made fun of for having more time off work than the Americans.” she said.  

As the two finished breakfast, Zoe paid the bill and left a tip. Marinette raised an eyebrow at Zoe for paying what was higher than the bill. “Marinette, remember, always tip whenever you go eat at a restaurant or a diner.” She explained. 

“Why? Isn’t there a service charge added? Don’t the servers get paid?” Marinette asked.

“Not at all.” Zoe deadpanned. 

“What?” Marinette exclaimed in shock, she quickly covered her mouth as eyes turned to face her for her outburst. 

 Zoe beckoned Marinette to follow her, “Come on, I’ll show you all the hotspots in Gotham City.”

 The two walked out onto the street and across several blocks.  Zoe stopped as the two reached their destination. She then pointed to an old gothic tower, “That there is the old Wayne Tower, creepy isn’t it? Built in 1888 by Cyrus Pinkey for the Waynes right at the heart of Gotham City. It’s been closed for a few years now, since Wayne Enterprise moved to the New Wayne Tower in the financial district.”

 Marinette’s eyes widened in recognition, it was where the Belfry was located. She remembered the gothic tower, but she had no idea it was the old Wayne Tower. She decided it would be best to keep quiet about this revelation. 

 The two continued sightseeing as they ventured into Robinson Park. “This park is amazing, the biggest park in the heart of Gotham. Also it's very close to Gotham U, I’d love to come here everyday after class to unwind.” Zoe explained. The two calmly walked across the park, enjoying the scenery and stopping by to feed some ducks.

 “Anyway I need to get some things on the way back,” the two then walked to a nearby grocery store and bought groceries. Being on a budget, Marinette eyed the price tags frugally, calculating how much it would cost her. Zoe smirked at Marinette, knowing what would come next when the two went to the cash register. Marinette was thrown into a loop as the total amount did not match the price tags. Marinette tried to ask for an explanation from the cashier, but they were not helpful. The cashier only said that it was tax, “Why isn’t tax included in the price tags?” she pleaded to the cashier.

The cashier gave Marinette a light shrug. “That's just the way things are.” 

Marinette pulled her pigtails in frustration as to why the final price doesn’t match the price tag. “Ok fine, what's the tax in America?”

Zoe took the chance to intervene and explain it to her friend. “It depends, it varies between states, counties and even cities.” 

Marinette banged her head against the counter in frustration. “Why? Why is it so crazy here?” 

Zoe and the cashier laughed at Marinette's antics. The cashier asked “You new here?” 

Marinette did not lift her head up, “How could you tell?” 

The two made their purchase and walked home, Marinette had to do a double take on the loaf of bread she bought. She stopped Zoem and said that they needed to go back to the grocery store for another loaf of bread, because this one had expired. Zoe snatched the loaf from Marinette’s hands and took another look. “Nope it's fine, remember America uses Month/Day/Year here.” Zoe explained. Marinette’s eye twitched as the two walked back to their apartment. 

The semester began the following Monday at Gotham University. As a Fashion & Design student, Marinette had long studio classes which usually kept her busy during the day.  She would have to spend even longer hours in the studio if she had a project due.  When Zoe wasn’t attending lectures, she had a part-time job that kept her busy as well.  So Marinette didn’t see much of her by the time she managed to return to their apartment.

Over the course of the next few days, she would go to her classes by day and go out every night to search for her soulmate. However, the Red Hood had proved to be elusive, always alert to the movement of the red thread that tied them together.  Marinette found that the thread changed wildly.  Some nights she stopped by the Belfry, exhausted and dejected. Barbara had noticed this and decided that she had to know about Jason, it might change her mind or it might not. She deserved to know if she was going to go looking for him every night.

One night when she entered the Belfry, Barbara gestured to Marinette, “Come over and pull up a chair.” Marinette followed and brought a chair to the computer. The two sat side by side, “Mari, you deserve to know more about Jason...the Red Hood.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the mention of her soulmate, “Please tell me more about him.” she begged.

“Marinette, I’m sorry, we knew more about him but we didn’t tell you.” Barbara apologised.

Marinette was hurt at how they were withholding information about her soulmate from her. “Why?” was all that she was able to say.

Barbara took a deep breath, “Because Jason was the second Robin.” 

Marinette’s jaw dropped at this bombshell, her soulmate used to be Robin. It would explain the skills he displayed out in their last encounter. Marinette wondered how tough his life was, how he suffered at the hands of the criminals of Gotham at such a young age. Some of the things he said back at the dockyards were now sounding like they came from experience.  “What was he like?” she asked, wanting to know what her soulmate was like before his death. 

“Angry, rebellious, Jason always felt like it was him against the world. He was caught trying to steal the wheels off the Batmobile, that's how Batman found him and brought him in.” Barbara explained. 

“How did he die?” Marinette asked.

Barbara grew silent at the mention of Jason’s death. “He tried to pursue the Joker, but it was a trap. The Joker caught him, tortured him for god knows how long. I saw his bruises, it-it was as if he was beaten over and over again with a crowbar.” Marinette covered her mouth and her eyes welled with tears as she heard the gruesome details of her soulmate's unfortunate end. 

“To make matters worse, he locked Jason in the room with a bomb.” “What about the Red Hood?” she asked. “We...we buried a mannequin in a wig,” Barbara explained, “the real body was taken by the League of Assassins, trying to make up for what happened.”

Marinette stood up and rushed to the guest room, she had heard enough.  She could not imagine the pain and suffering her soulmate had been through his entire life.

Jason had been constantly on the move, knowing that his soulmate was out looking for him.  He tried to shut off the part of him that wanted to get close.  He was honestly surprised the Bat clan hadn't told her every horrific story they had about him.  Either they didn't know they were soulmates or she was knowingly walking head first into the lion's mouth.  If she didn't find him, then she might stumble upon a group of his men at work, and they might be a lot less forgiving.   If he was constantly checking over his shoulder, making sure the girl wasn't close by, things were bound to start slipping through the cracks.  

He himself had various safehouses scattered around the city, but he couldn't keep running forever.   It was getting ridiculous, he had faced crime lords, assassins and even gone toe-to-toe with Batman multiple times.  Yet here he was, running and hiding from a girl who was about a foot shorter than he was.  He knew why, of course, he wasn't afraid of her but she should be very afraid of him.  He had hoped that she would give up the search, as she drew closer and closer to finding out the truth about what happened to him.  But life had never been that easy for Jason, and sooner or later she was going to get too close to the untamed monster beneath.  If she got hurt because of him, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.  Not even his old self could forgive that.  He would have no trouble protecting her from other criminals, not that she really needed it.  However, whatever came crawling out of the pits was something else.

After putting a swift end to some people who were causing trouble in his territory,  his mind wandered back to Ladybug.  Specifically, the sad look in her eyes when he explained how brutal and unforgiving Gotham could be.  He tried not to think about it, because that look made him want to hold her close, and reassure her that everything would be okay.  Thoughts of how the idea of her gave him hope all those years ago would come bubbling to the surface.  It made him want to protect her, to ensure that this world wouldn’t hurt her the way it hurt him.  When she looked at him with those eyes, it made him want to believe that she trusted him to do just that.  He shook his head, and told himself that what he was also the very thing she needed protecting from.  

Most nights Jason had nightmares about failing to save her.  There were even nightmares where she died by his hands.  Her blue eyes would become lifeless and vacant, her skin would feel ice cold, and he would end up cradling her limp form in his arms.  Batman would just love it if those nightmares came true.  It would only prove to him that Jason was nothing more than an unhinged monster he couldn’t cage.  It wasn’t as though the Bat had much luck caging the real monsters in Gotham anyhow.  Most days, Jason’s skin crawled as he remembered the feeling of the Lazarus pit’s waters.  The creatures she was palling around with were the ones who made it. They probably didn’t give a damn about the evil they had inflicted on the world because of it.   For all he knew, being around her little fairy friends would make the effects much worse.  Still, when he snapped back to reality, he would see the string glowing red, just as it had always done.  Occasionally moving and twitching as his soulmate searched high and low for him. Maybe the time had come to have a little talk, soulmate to soulmate...

[britishassistant]

I love that Yuu's reasoning for getting involved in some of the super hero/villain as The Prefect is because they can tell when the villain is crossing the line. But is otherwise pretty chill (kinda) with them as a whole.

What I can imagine now is a RSA hero going a bit too far in their brand of justice. You've established that they can be pretty violent too and have their share of collateral damage.

Can you imagine a hero being too overzealous with defeating a villain, no death but serious injury to the villain or civilians? How furious The Prefect would be? How Yuu the Reporter would call them out as well?

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

TW for injury in this one.

Royal Flush and the Card Guards were attempting to escape with Yuu under one arm and the famed Dodo’s Egg jewel under the other. They’re being relentlessly chased through a public park by one of their more intense RSA nemeses, the Champion.

He certainly lives up to his hero name, with his shining blond hair, gleaming vorpal sword, and power to do ten impossible things so long as he hasn’t had breakfast. However, his obsession with trying to cut down the “jabberwocky, jubjub birds and bandersnatches” with little regard for the surrounding area means objects and civilians are just as likely to fall under his blade as the clones Cater keeps desperately trying to distract him with.

It gets to the point where Trey has to actually put Yuu down and tell them to go run and hide somewhere safe until they’ve subdued the Champion and can make a safer escape. At least the reporter listens to him and follows his instructions.

Ace and Deuce try to hit the Champion, but he’s relentless, constantly dodging and batting away their attacks even when it should be impossible, cutting down Cater’s clones by the dozen in his single-minded pursuit of “the red queen”.

Royal Flush has his back turned, trying to usher away a crying child who has latched onto his leg in fright, separated from their parent in the chaos of the attacks. The superhero takes the chance to swing at the supervillain—!

Ace gets in the way.

Deuce is screaming. Cater is frozen in horror. Trey is frantically trying to get to his junior.

Royal Flush’s mouth is moving but he can’t speak, why can’t he speak, he needs to speak—

The Champion doesn’t even seem to take notice, about to walk over the fallen piece in his mission to defeat the now paralyzed jabberwocky—

Only for The Prefect to send him flying with a dropkick to the face.

It feels like everyone is only able to stare incomprehensibly at the Champion slumped dazed against the stump of a fallen tree, before turning their eyes back to the hero who apparently just attacked one of their own over a minion.

The Prefect stands over Ace, eyes blazing and furious beneath the fedora. The very air around them feels cold and dark with their palpable rage.

They bark out orders to the villains to staunch the bleeding, get Ace and the other injured civilians to the nearest hospital as fast as they can, not to worry about anything else but that.

They’ll take care of this miserable excuse for a “hero”.

The superhero begins to stutter, clutching his broken nose, desperately claiming he did nothing wrong, he was just trying to defeat the jabberwocky, you have to sacrifice a few of your own pawns in chess to be able to take the other side’s pieces and bring down the red queen, he did nothing wrong—

“If that’s what you think,” The Prefect says coldly, cracking their knuckles. “Then you really don’t deserve to go running around calling yourself a hero.”

Ace wakes up in his bed back in the lair, a stiffness in his side and a pounding headache.

There’s a lukewarm plate of cherry pie on his bedside table.

Deuce is sleeping with his head right on where Ace got injured. Cater’s curled up on the floor, flicking though his phone. Trey’s leaning against the armchair that Riddle is sitting in, eyes closed. Riddle’s fiddling with the edges of his costume and looking very small.

They all crowd around Ace once he demands someone pass him his pie, frantically trying to see if he’s feeling alright. Deuce does not help by accidentally leaning on his injury to try and check his temperature. Cater to pulls Deuce off and squirm in next to Ace to take a “He survived!🥳” selfie. Trey is passing him the pie and asking if he’d like it warmed up, commending Ace for his actions but sternly saying never to scare them like that again.

Riddle is quietly and guiltily fretting until Ace takes the opportunity to tease him and ask for permission to have the first slice of all of Trey’s strawberry tarts for the rest of time as payment for his “bravery”. Then he’s mostly huffy, but you can see in his eyes he’s overwhelmingly glad that his minion is now alright.

They tell Ace that the Prefect put the Champion in intensive care over what happened. Ace pretends that doesn’t make him feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, resolving to partner up with Yuuken on the next minion-reporter-and-cameraman game night to repay him for it.

“Ah, Yuu-chan’s special report on what happened is up!” Cater holds up his phone and fullscreens the video, and everyone nestles in around Ace to see.

It’s obvious from the first second that this report is not going to be like any of the normal ones.

Yuu is pissed.

The reporter’s eyes blaze with barely-restrained fury. Even through the phone screen, it feels like their anger is casting a chill over the room.

Looking at them now, it’s easy to see that they’re Dire Crowley’s biological child.

The reporter’s words are cutting to the quick, condemning all heroes who are “more concerned with showboating than with helping people”, listing off name after name after name of the people who had been needlessly injured or endangered by the heroes’ efforts to foil the supervillains’ schemes, of the properties that had been irreparably damaged and jobs lost. There are even the names of henchpeople mixed in there on the list of the injured, hidden well enough that it seems they’re just civilians like the rest.

Yuu’s voice wavers only slightly when they say Ace’s name, jaw tightening and hands clenching into white-knuckled fists for a moment before forcibly relaxing. The fury in their eyes doesn’t waver for a moment.

Great Seven, it should be illegal for them to be this hot when they’re mad.

“We already have seven supervillains in this city who threaten our livelihoods with their mayhem daily. We must rely on our heroes to even stand a chance at having some normalcy, but how can we if they present more of a danger to us than the villains do?” Yuu finishes, eyes steely. “Either uphold the duty you claim to be fighting for, or be honest with the public about what your prioities really are.”

The video ends.

The faint sound of whooping erupts from the rest of the lair.

Deuce and Cater are cheering too, yelling that it’s about time someone called those prissy princes out on their hypocrisy. Ace laughs along with it slightly bashfully, scratching the back of his neck and trying to ignore the red in his cheeks. Trey is smiling so widely his cheeks hurt and Riddle is shaking his head at the commotion, but the small smirk on his face shows that he’ll let the ruckus slide this time.

It’s nice to have someone on their side, for once.

[renjuseyo]

if ur requests are open can i pls request Jaehyun x male reader where the reader is so drunk that he forgot that his boyfriend(jaehyun) is his boyfriend. then he asks a member if he is taken and they said yes and that will make reader to silently be sad in the corner and jaehyun asks if readers ready to go home......... andddddddd ill leaveee the rest to u hehehehe (iloveurwriting so much)

tipsy ; jaehyun

group: nct

pairing: jung yoonoh / reader (male)

synopsis: both you and jaehyun knew how much of a lightweight you were, but when has that ever stopped you?

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: implied sexual content, explicit language

i lost inspiration for this, so i hope this mess of a fic is okay anon! as always, feedback is appreciated!!

when you peek through the peephole, you expect to see the delivery man holding the package you had ordered online. instead, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the other side of the door, wrapped in a hoodie, mask, and tinted sunglasses. his disguise is pretty unnecessary given how your neighbors are mainly made up of old people who have never heard of nct, but it gets the job done.

once you’ve unhooked the chain bolt, you unlock the door and swing it open. he slightly jumps at the noise, but visibly softens when he sees you. “hey (name),” he greets, slipping off his mask and sunglasses.

“hey yourself. what are you doing here?” you ask. with how hectic his schedule has been after promotions with the nct 2020 project and working as an mc on inkigayo, you two hadn’t seen each other in weeks. though you missed him, you sympathized with the tireless hours he spent working as an idol. at least you preoccupied yourself with netflix.

he slips off his sneakers and enters your home, taking off the rest of his disguise. you close and lock the door behind you, trailing behind him. “i managed to squeak in some free time today, so i came to visit you,” he explains. he faces you with a smile, pulling you close. you subconsciously lean your head onto his shoulder, humming as he sways your bodies.

“i missed you,” you tell him, fingers ghosting his waist. he makes a noise of agreement, resting his chin on your head.

you eventually pull away, eliciting a grumble from jaehyun. contrary to popular belief, he was the clingy one of you two, always using the excuse of “you’re just the perfect size for cuddling.” “stop grumbling, jae. you’ve come so far, so it’s only fair i make you something to eat,” you tell him, making your way towards the kitchen.

he follows suit, hand grabbing at the hood of your hoodie. you stop in front of the refrigerator and open it, canvassing the food you have in there. as you debate what to make for lunch, he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes both arms around your waist. you roll your eyes, though you don’t make any movements to pry his arms off. “i can always eat something else,” he smirks.

you realize too late the implications of his comment, absentmindedly sorting through the bags of vegetables in your fridge. “do you want takeout instead then? mrs. moon from two doors down said that there’s this really good pho house near here.”

he nuzzles into your shoulder. “i’d really like to eat you,” he says as nonchalantly as one can, considering his implications. you nearly drop a bag of spinach, spluttering incoherent words as you spin around to swat his shoulder. he laughs, loud and proud, a stark contrast from the quiet, polite laugh he’s practiced.

“you’re the worst,” you hiss, reluctantly closing the fridge. he pecks your cheek, eliciting a disgusted screech from you. he leans back with a laugh before attacking your face with kisses. you shut your eyes as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. but jaehyun’s been working out, evident from his arms, and he’s always had an intense grip. when he leans away, satisfied, you flick his forehead. with how clingy jaehyun’s being, making lunch isn’t an option anymore. “i hate you.”

jaehyun eventually relinquishes his attacks, threading his fingers with yours. “you’re usually not this clingy, jae. actually, now that i think about it, you don’t flirt all too much either, much less suggest sexual innuendos. what’s the occasion?” you ask as he walks you two to your living room. he doesn’t immediately respond, flopping down onto the couch and dragging you along with him. you land on his chest with an oomph, your cheek squished against his chest.

he combs his fingers through your hair, smiling as you make a noise of approval. “well, i wasn’t going to say anything before the news outlet, but...” his smile only widens when he sees you look up at him with curious eyes; he nearly coos at how innocent you look. “a certain idol you know might make his acting debut soon~”

your eyes widen, and you quickly prop yourself up with your elbows. “what! no way!” you exclaim, jaw hanging open. jaehyun laughs at your shell-shocked reaction, though it’s a given; when you were in a mood to vent, he would always take your hand and pepper your knuckles with butterfly kisses as you ranted about how he deserved better and shouldn’t only be seen as a visual, whining about how sm failed to show his talents as a singer and an actor. well, those days are over now, he supposes.

“yes way, love. are you excited?” he isn’t sure why he asked that question, considering how shell-shocked you already look. plus, the squeal that leaves your throat and the way you throw yourself onto him is answer enough already.

“do you even have to ask? you used to send me videos of you acting out different roles because you wanted to try acting, and you always did them so well! i’m really proud of you, jae. you deserve it.”

“i’m really glad you think so, (name). do you want to hear-”

“no!” you interrupt, slapping both of your palms on his mouth. he tilts his head in confusion, surprised by your sudden outburst. “knowing you, you’re going to accidentally tell me everything, and then i’m going to know the whole story line before the show even airs!”

he’s about to refute your claims, but he can’t really considering how you’ve layered both of your palms on his mouth. plus, judging by the look you give him, he’s certain he’s going to be eating his own words sooner or later. with a sigh, he peels your palms off. "you’re no fun. can i not even tell you the name and the basic plot?”

“i’m sorry for wanting to give you ratings,” you snort. “and no. then i’ll be waiting in anticipation and will force you to tell me everything, even if you tell me you can’t because i told you before not to say anything. you can’t even give me a drop of information.” well, jaehyun supposes that is true. you’ve always been enticed by television shows; he’s personally seen you react to cliffhangers a show gives before it ultimately gets cancelled. needless to say, it isn’t a pretty sight. “this calls for celebration! we can invite the boys too... do you want it to be extravagant, or are we keeping it low key?” you ask, sitting up and reaching for your phone.

“what happened to just you and me?” jaehyun asks, batting his eyelashes with feigned innocence. “i can think of a lot more fun things we can do.”

you don’t even bat an eye; unlike earlier, you were prepared for this kind of comment. “shoving my foot up your ass sounds really fun, but unfortunately that won’t get me any food. the boys probably already knew before i did, so you’ve probably already celebrated with them... i guess we can keep it simple.”

“i’d take your foot any day,” he fires back with a heavily exaggerated moan, to which you respond with a slap on the arm.

“i’m telling johnny to bring over beer.” you’re texting a group chat with you and the other 127 members. you’re only dating jaehyun, yet sometimes it feels like you’re dating all of them with how close you are. plus, gossiping with jungwoo about your boyfriend is always fun. with him being his roommate, you both often share similar struggles.

he rolls his eyes, stretching over to wrap his arms around your waist. he peers over your shoulder to look at your screen. “please, (name). you’re the lightest lightweight i’ve ever met. who are you telling to bring over drinks? you’re like a baby.”

“fuck you.”

“i think it’s the other way around, but i’d gladly let you order me around~” he flirts.

you shove a pillow in his face as you fire off a text.

after ordering pizza, tteokbokki, and fried chicken, your dinner is nearly complete. the boys were coming over soon, with johnny being in charge of drinks, jungwoo in charge of takeout, and donghyuck in charge of entertainment. you had a nintendo switch jaehyun had gifted you two years ago, and you intended on making full use of it tonight.

(plus, you have yet to beat yuta at super smash bros. today is going to be that day.)

you had finished clearing the table for the food before you notice jaehyun’s sleeping frame on the couch. you’re about to walk over and reprimand him for being unproductive, but seeing how tired and peaceful he looks stops you. instead, you grab a blanket from your room and drape it over him.

you’re about to walk away and grab water bottles for everyone when you feel something tugging your hand. craning your neck, you smile at jaehyun’s hooded eyes laced with sleep. “c’mere,” he murmurs.

water bottles can wait, then. you pat jaehyun’s side, and he scoots over to allow room for you. as you slot yourself in his arm, spreading a leg across his, he makes a noise of satisfaction, eyes fluttering close. “someone’s tired,” you observe, pushing the mop of black bangs obscuring his eyes. “did practice run late?”

he avoids your gaze. “no, i spent the night playing uno with johnny, ten, and mark,” he admits.

you laugh. “must have been intense. i bet you were so burnt out from uno,” you sympathize with sarcasm. “but in general, don’t overexert yourself, okay? i know you’ve been busy, but you need to remember to take care of yourself.”

jaehyun nods, but a yawn rips out of his chest. you give him a knowing look, one that reads what did i say? which causes him to laugh. “yes sir,” he lazily responds.

“as tired as you may be, don’t go falling asleep on me now. the others are going to be here soon. what would they think, the guest of honor asleep at his own party?” you chuckle, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead.

he beams at the gesture. “give me more kisses and i’ll think about it,” he coaxes.

usually you don’t give in to his bratty demands, but seeing how tired he is reminds you of the accomplishments he’s achieved in the past year. a kiss is the least you could down. you lean down, breath fanning his lips, and he closes his eyes in contentment.

a few seconds pass, but the kiss never comes. when jaehyun opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see you’re no longer by his side, instead standing by the door. “that’s one way of telling a guy to come and get it,” he sighs, sitting up. he wearily rubs his eyes, blurry eyes watching you.

“sorry jae, taeil-hyung just texted saying they’re here,” you apologize. he sighs, eventually standing up after a few moments of stretching.

just as you had said, knocks resonate throughout your home, signalling their arrival. you peek through the peephole to verify their identities and sure enough, all nine other members stand outside, arms loaded. you undo the chain lock and swing the door open, greeting everyone.

“thanks for having us,” taeyong smiles, stepping into your home. everyone else echoes his message, but it comes out mumbled, like they hadn’t thought of saying anything until taeyong. the power a leader has, you suppose.

“no problem. here, let me grab some of the food.” you scurry over to jungwoo and mark, whose arms were loaded with the takeout you ordered.

as you grab a box of pizza from mark, johnny slaps you on the back. you nearly lurch forward and drop the pizza; if you had, johnny would be first on your hit list. “so jaehyun finally told you?” he asks with a grin.

“thank god. he spent days talking about ways to tell you, knowing how excited you’d be,” sicheng snorts, slipping off his shoes.

you laugh, especially when you see jaehyun spluttering in embarrassment. “you could’ve fooled me. all he did was waltz in and drop the news after he nearly fell asleep. made me feel like a proud parent and everything.”

“you may feel like one now, but wait until you watch him act. just going to be lots of cringing and teasing,” doyoung sneers, elbowing his shoulder.

yuta rolls his eyes. “like you’re one to talk, mr. lead actor.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “lead actor?!” doyoung laughs, answering your question. “good for you, hyung!”

jaehyun narrows his eyes. “why do you look more amazed at his news than mine?!”

i’m not a lightweight, you told yourself. i can handle whatever yuta throws at me, you told yourself.

you were sorely mistaken.

jaehyun notices this too, seeing you sway in your seat. he chuckles at the sight; you were never able to hold your liquor, and when you got drunk, you were quite the spontaneous drinker to deal with. one time you had drank so much that you cried over cute things, like when sicheng showed you a picture of his dogs. or the one time you were a man on a mission, flirting with all of the members. needless to say, that led to a very interested jaemin and a very pouty jaehyun.

you had initially planned on just sticking to soda, but yuta had wanted to make things more interesting and challenged you to a game of super smash bros. each time the loser lost, they would have to down a can of beer. despite your inability to hold your liquor, it activated your competitive nature. but of course, yuta is crazy good at any games he suggests, completely demolishing you with lucina. no matter which character you chose, you were just no match against him.

after several fruitless attempts, you’re seated between taeil and sicheng, who seem way too interested in the tteokbokki to notice your behavior. everyone else seems occupied, too; johnny, yuta, jungwoo, and donghyuck are playing mario kart 8, taeyong and mark are immersed in yet another one of their deep, contemplative conversations, and doyoung’s watching the whole scene unfold, supervising everyone (probably to ensure nothing ends up in flames). on the other hand, jaehyun’s sitting on your sofa, alternating between watching the four men in front of your television screaming and you in your tipsy state. he decides to stick with the latter.

eventually you lift your eyes up and make eye contact with jaehyun, who responds with a wink. seeing you flush and look away has his chest swelling with giddiness; you’re just too cute sometimes. the table isn’t far from the sofa, so he can hear any conversation that goes on there. he watches as you take another sip of your can, eyes shifting back and forth from the television and to him. you stare at him for a bit longer, eyes canvassing his face, his posture, his thoughts.

it seems sicheng notices your staring, sitting back down and nudging your shoulder. “what’s so interesting that it’s gotten your attention?” he asks, purposefully raising his voice so jaehyun can hear.

you flush at how loud he is, lazily putting a finger to your lips. “shhh, i’m staring at the pretty boy there.” you point your chin towards jaehyun, who pretends to not see. you’ve never been subtle when you were drunk, but telling you that would just lead to you loudly slurring your arguments. “do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

jaehyun nearly spits out his beer. of all the times you’ve gotten drunk, you’ve never once forgotten that you were his boyfriend - if anything, you were all too eager to prove just how much you belonged to him. he’s not sure whether to feel startled or amused.

sicheng chooses the latter, a smirk forming. “yeah, he has a boyfriend,” he tells you. jaehyun hopes you’ll realize that you’re the boyfriend in question, but seeing how you deflate like a balloon, he guesses not. he questions how much you’ve had to drink.

you slide off of your chair, pouting. “of course a guy as attractive as him has a boyfriend. i’m not surprised,” you grumble, crossing your arms. jaehyun can’t help the amused smirk that makes its way on his face. watching you envy yourself for being his boyfriend is very amusing.

sicheng must feel the same, stifling his laughter. “don’t look so bitter, (name). his boyfriend’s a good guy.”

you pout, crossing your arms. “well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” you boast, standing up.

sicheng can only watch in amusement as you stagger towards the kitchen. if only you knew how strange that statement was. “if you’re so confident about that, then what are you doing? planning on hiding in the kitchen to wallow on your sorrows?” he teases.

“i’m not!” you protest. “i’m just going to get some water because i’m dizzy as fuck and possibly cry about how single i am.” you mumble the last part, though because sicheng has uncanny hearing, he probably heard, if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

jaehyun decides it’s time to intercept, because as amusing as things were, he hoped you weren’t actually going to cry about being single, especially since you had no reason to. he stops by the dining table where taeil and sicheng are. “so i heard you and (name) were talking about me.”

sicheng snorts, rolling his eyes. “just because we said pretty boys doesn’t mean we were talking about you.”

though unaware of the topic, taeil leans in, chewing on a mouthful of pizza. “yeah, for all we know, he could be talking about me!” he chirps. he’s met with an annoyed glare from sicheng (though both of them can see him stifling his laughter), which he responds with an air kiss. typical taeil.

“well, i’m going to check up on him. i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” he teases. taeil looks a little too happy at the joke, whereas sicheng threatens to stab him with a fork. it’s amusing watching their reactions, considering how everyone around them already knows that they’re dating. those two just haven’t admitted anything yet.

he follows you into the kitchen, though you don’t seem to notice, too busy pouring yourself a glass of cold water.  “(name),” he greets.

you jump in surprise, nearly spilling water on yourself. when you turn to face jaehyun, your confident nature immediately disappears, quickly replaced with one of bashfulness. “you know me?” you ask, in awe of how said pretty boy could possibly recognize you.

if only you knew just how well he knew you, he thinks to himself. instead, he decides to play along; you’re obviously too drunk to realize how silly this seems. “i do,” he hums, patting your shoulder. he isn’t sure if your red cheeks are from the alcohol or him, though he hopes for the latter. he never gets less prideful when you get all shy because of him.

hoping to maintain the confident facade you had earlier, you quickly clear your throat, looking away. “how can i help you?” you ask, taking a sip of your water.

“well, i was hoping if we could talk in a more... private area?” he asks.

you nearly spit out your water, eyes the size of saucers. he has to stop himself from laughing, afraid the drunk you would get the wrong impression. “just to talk, that’s all. it’s kind of loud here, don’t you think?”

the screams from the living room (which are mainly from johnny and donghyuck and the occasional ones of distress from taeyong) and the volume of the television are evidence enough, so you nod in agreement. “yeah, sure.”

“perfect. let’s go then~” jaehyun laces your fingers together before you can say anything, and your ears are practically fuming with smoke. you’re too distracted by his touch to question how he knows where your bedroom is. when you both enter your room, he flops down on your bed, patting the empty spot beside him. at this, you gasp, scandalized and very flustered. he chuckles at how shy you’ve gotten, shaking his head. “my my (name), get your head out of the gutter. we’re not going to do anything... unless you want to,” he flirts.

jaehyun never tries to take advantage of you, especially when you’re not sober. but when the sober you would throw pillows (or anything that wouldn’t actually hurt him) at him for flirting with you, the drunk you would always fire back with equally flirty remarks, or the shy you would just splutter in embarrassment. he can’t help it, spewing sweet nothings to you - you’re just too fun to mess with for him to not to, especially when you’re drunk.

reluctantly you place your water on your bedside table and lower yourself beside him, heart thumping erratically. he chuckles at how timid you are, a stark contrast from the snarky (name) that he knows so well. he turns to face you, both of your faces only centimetres apart. the smell of alcohol lingers on both of you, though it isn’t as prominent on him as it is on you. he makes a mental note to ask yuta how much you’ve had.

you squeak at how close you two are, hands flying to cover your face. “you have a boyfriend,” you whisper. you’re undeniably flustered, but you would rather die than be known as a homewrecker!

his laugh startles you, even more so when he presses a hand to the small of your back. you look like you’ve committed a heinous crime, potentially causing an attractive man like jaehyun to cheat on his boyfriend. the statement is so abusrd though, considering how you’re the boyfriend in question. “i do, you are right. he won’t be mad at me, though,” he hums, leaning in so close your noses would touch if it weren’t for the makeshift barrier you’ve made from your hands. you flush red in embarrassment, hiding your eyes behind your hands. if you make eye contact with him, you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle.

“even if he didn’t mind, i don’t think we should be doing this. i know i wouldn’t be happy if my boyfriend did this,” you whisper.

jaehyun sure is having a field day with this. you’re too flustered and worried to notice the pure look of adoration he’s giving you. “call it a hunch,” he says. “i promise you, he won’t be mad at this.”

“why?”

“you’ll find out tomorrow.” he pauses as a yawn rips out of his chest. “i’m really tired, so i’m going to sleep. the boys probably won’t quiet down on my account, anyways. you can always go back to them if you want, though,” he offers. a small part of him hopes for you to stay and cuddle with him, but judging how you’re so sure he has a boyfriend who would be absolutely devastated for literally sleeping with another man and how you have no knowledge of where you stand, he wouldn’t be surprised if you left.

what does surprise him, though, is when you stay rooted in your spot on the bed. “i’m tired, too,” you say.

jaehyun smiles so sweetly, the one that has his eyes dripping with honey, that your hands fly up to cover your face again. his boyfriend must be lucky to see that sight all of the time, you bitterly think to yourself. still, even if you’re not sure why he’s flirting with you or where you stand, you decide to savor every moment that you get to spend with him. even if you don’t really know who pretty boy is, he’s sweet and kind. plus, only a fool would cover their eyes when someone as beautiful as him lays before you.

he moves an arm to pat your thigh when he freezes in midair, remembering how he’s supposed to have a boyfriend to stay loyal to (even though he’s right in front of him). he retracts his arm and instead pulls your blanket to cover your lower bodies. “goodnight, (name),” he hums, shutting his eyes.

before jaehyun can begin the long process of trying to fall asleep, he feels you tug at his t-shirt. cracking an eye open, he sees you laying before him, staring at him with curious eyes and red cheeks. oh no, now he’s really tempted to kiss you. you’re impossibly adorable, seeing how vulnerable and curious you are. “yes?” he hums, trying to stay awake. the effects from last night’s uno matches have really begin to take a toll on him.

“i don’t think i’ve gotten the chance to ask, but may i know your name?” you ask.

jaehyun chuckles. he’s flirted with you and is even sleeping in the same bed as you, yet he’s forgotten the basic courtesy that is introductions. he didn’t think he would’ve needed it, considering how you’re his boyfriend. but then again, you’ve forgotten that you are his boyfriend. “my name’s yoonoh, but you can call me jaehyun or jae.”

no one actually calls him jae except for you. it’s a short and simple nickname that you have for him, nothing endearing. but because it’s something that only you call him, even though there isn’t a meaning to it, he’s grown fond of the way it sounds leaving your lips. which is why hearing it from anyone that isn’t you only leaves a weird taste on his tongue.

you’re so drunk you don’t even remember jaehyun, nor who he is to you, so it isn’t surprising that you stick with jaehyun instead. he doesn’t mind though, because he knows when you’re sober again he’ll hear you calling him jae and cuddling into him and doing all of the coupley things he wasn’t able to do tonight.

wow, jaehyun really is a lovesick fool. it’s only been one night of not being able to cuddle or kiss you, but he feels like he’s missed a whole eternity of them. he really isn’t sure how he’s lived before you came into his life.

for an hour, you pester jaehyun on how you two became acquainted and who you were to him. he indulged you, of course, purposefully skipping over the part of you becoming boyfriends and doing things that friends definitely didn’t do. his stories seem to be an effective way of getting you to sleep, because in the middle of a story of how a pair of swapped backpacks led to your relationship, you’re lulled to sleep, tired hands clutching onto his t-shirt.

he can only chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss on your nose. you’ll sure be in for a storm when you sober up tomorrow morning.

your jaw drops as you stare at the video on doyoung’s phone. it’s of you and sicheng, and right now you can only watch in horror as you pester him for information on the pretty boy you were so interested in last night. you have no recollection of last night’s events, though watching the video makes you glad you don’t. the problem is, the boys were there to witness them, even recording evidence of it on their phones. you’ve already seen pictures that johnny and taeyong have taken from when you and jaehyun were cuddling in your bed.

“please tell me that isn’t me,” you whisper, utterly mortified.

mark pats your shoulder in sympathy. “that’s you, all right.”

at his confirmation, you groan, burying your face in your hands. doyoung and donghyuck are cackling at your demise, with sicheng reciting your complaints word from word to a very amused johnny and yuta.

“...and then he was like well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” sicheng mimics, purposefully raising his voice an octave higher as he mocks you. out of embarrassment, you reach for a pillow on your couch and fling it at him. unlike jaehyun, he’s very good at dodging, proven when he ducks. instead, the pillow smacks yuta square in the face. he throws it back at you with even more force.

you duck, the pillow smacking an unsuspecting jaehyun. he really is horrible at dodging things - how shameful. “what the hell was that for?” he splutters, picking it up from the floor.

you turn to face him, eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. “you watched me make an utter fool out of myself, and you didn’t once try to do anything about it?” you hiss.

jaehyun frowns in confusion until doyoung dangles his phone in front of his face. when he watches the video, his face eventually contorts to one of amusement. “oh, that.”

your face is red with embarrassment. “yeah, that! like seriously? where is your loyalty? do you not care about my well being? you know how vicious these monsters can be!” you whine, gesturing at the said nine monsters behind you.

he nonchalantly shrugs, though you can see the corners of his lips threatening to curl into a smirk. “i do, but you were just too cute, seeing you all flustered. what about my own well being, huh? seeing you like that isn’t good for my heart,” he coos.

your heart leaps, but you mask it by smothering his face with a pillow. “you’re the worst,” you grumble.

“you act like you don’t like it, but i know you do~” he retaliates, albeit muffled from the pillow.

behind you two stands nine other boys, obviously unimpressed. watching you two engage in petty banter is always amusing, but not when it makes you flustered and encourages jaehyun to flirt with you like the cheesy, lovesick fool he is. “they’re so gross,” donghyuck gags.

johnny nods in agreement. “let’s get out of here before they start fucking on the counter.”

at johnny’s comment, you turn away from jaehyun so fast you swear you hear your neck crack. “do you have no filter?!” you shriek, exasperated.

with your guard down, jaehyun takes this as a chance to wrap his arms around your waist. a noise of surprise leaves your throat as he places his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean, (name). i liked the shy you a lot better~” he hums.

the other boys don’t even blink. “we’re going to leave now before things get bloody. good luck, (name),” taeyong says, saluting you.

jaehyun’s already tugging at the hem of your shirt and peppering your neck with kisses by the time the boys leave.

[jinx-jade]

The feeling of home Part 3: Video calls

“Hey Cass, have you seen… “ Dick froze, stopping mid-sentence at the sight in front of him.

“Oh My God! Hi! You must be Cass’s girlfriend!” Dick exclaims in excitement, causing the girl on the other end of the video call to giggle.

“Hello, I’m Cass’s girlfriend,” she began. “Sorry but I don’t have any more time to chat today. Maybe we can do a group video call later?”

“I’m sure all of us would love that!” Dick claimed with a grin.

“Je t'enverrai un texto plus tard mon amour” (I'll text you later my love), Cass’s girlfriend informs her lover with a smile.

Cass gave a bright smile and wave in return, a slight blush noticeable on her cheeks.

The second the call disconnected Dick let out a squeal.

“You two are so cute!” A grin clear on his features.

‘What did you need’ Cass asked in sign language, her blush still visible.

“Oh ya. Have you seen my Escrima Sticks? We have to patrol a bit and I can’t seem to find them. Any of them actually, including my spares.” Dick informs her as they start walking towards the cave.

‘Tim hid them as revenge for replacing his coffee with decaf’ Cass signs to him.

“Ugh. Of course, he did!” Dick groans in exasperation. “Thanks for the help, Cass! Can’t wait till we can officially meet your girlfriend!”

________________________

“Hey Alfred, can we have some popcorn? Something tells me this is gonna be fairly entertaining.” Jason claims as he sits down on the couch. He would go make the popcorn himself, but he was still banned from the kitchen.

“Of course Master Jason. Would anyone else like some refreshments or snacks before the call starts?” Alfred questioned.

The Waynes proceed to tell Alfred what food and drinks they wanted. Those who weren’t banned from the kitchen followed Alfred to help. There were very few Waynes still allowed in the kitchen, only Cass and Damian haven’t been banned, yet.

Once Cass, Damian, and Alfred had been in the kitchen for a bit, preparing the snack, Alfred turned his attention to Cass.

“There’s no reason to be so nervous, Miss Cassandra. I’m sure everyone will like your girlfriend.” Alfred spoke before focusing on preparing the popcorn.

Cass let out a slight whine. It was a mix between frustration, nervousness, and excitement.

“Tch. If this person was able to catch your attention and make you a smiling mess like Grayson with Kori, then I’m positive the rest of us will like her.” Damian states before walking out of the kitchen with a tray of snacks. Cass followed him out of the kitchen with her tray of snacks, Alfred not too far behind.

“Everyone ready?” Dick asked when everyone was settled into their usual spots.

Everyone gave some form of ‘yes we are ready’ Cass started the call.

…Calling...

A click was heard as the call screen was replaced with a person.

“Hello! It’s lovely to meet you all. I’m Marinette, Cass’s girlfriend.” Marinette informs them with a sweet smile.

“It’s nice to meet you as well Marinette. I’m Bruce Wayne, Cassandra’s adoptive father. This is my eldest Richerd, although he prefers to be called Dick. This is my third eldest Jason, my second youngest Tim, and my youngest Damian.” Bruce introduces.

When they were still planning the call on a day all of them would be free, Cass asked Bruce to introduce them to her girlfriend for her. All of the Waynes agreed to let themselves be introduced by Bruce since it made sense due to him being their father.

Marinette seemed to scan the room before nodding to herself. The acton seemed to make Cass let out a held-back laugh, confusing the Waynes.

Tim looked back and forth between the couple.

“What’s so funny?” He asked after not being able to figure it out.

“Hmm? Oh. Sorry, I’m used to Cass’s way of communicating. Pretty much, I just lined up who was who based on Cass’s description of you.” Marinette explains to Tim.

“Gasp. You talk about us!” Jason exclaims turning towards Cass.

Cass just gave him an eye roll for his antics.

“All good things, I hope,” Bruce says with a chuckle.

Marinette raised a brow in Cass’s direction, causing Cass to react by folding both of her lips inward and making a zip motion. Marinette had a smirk growing on her face while Cass had a glare that was slowly becoming more intense.

“Of course, all good stories.” Marinette states with a grin as Cass facepalmed.

“Stories? What kind of stories?” Bruce asked, looking in his daughter’s direction.

“Very entertaining stories if you must know, but shouldn’t you already know what the stories are about since you’re the ones who lived them?” Marinette asks, a grin still settled on her features.

“Renard faisant le chaos” (Fox making chaos), Cass huffs under her breath, causing Marinette to laugh.

“Nous faisons tous les deux le chaos. Non?” (We both make chaos. No?), Marinette states with a sharp smile that promised chaos, but with soft loving eyes.

Cass simply huffed and turned her head away. After a few seconds of silence, the couple started laughing, Cass not bothering to hold it back this time.

The Waynes didn’t seem to understand what just happened, even the ones who spoke French were confused. However, they didn’t mind the confusion, it was very rare for them to see Cass this happy. The Waynes all came to a silent agreement that they all liked Cass’s girlfriend and would be doing these family video calls more often.

The call continued late into the night, a few of the Waynes excusing themselves to ‘head to bed’.

After all, not all the bats could have the night off at the same time.

Tonight’s patrol consisted of Batman, Robin, and Red Hood since they had the easiest excuses to leave and go to bed.

Bruce had a meeting in the morning, Damian had school tomorrow, and Jason had a meeting with the W.E. security department. All of this was true, and technically Tim could have used the meeting excuse, but everyone knows Tim would never willingly go to sleep.

When Bruce, Jason, and Damian came back from patrol they were surprised with the rest of their family still being on the call.

Alfred made eye contact with them and shooed them off to bed.

“My Apologies, but I do believe we are now in the early morning hours. I believe everyone should at the very least, try and get some rest.” Alfred suggested.

Goodbyes and Goodnights were exchanged before the call ended.

While the Waynes moved towards their bedrooms, Alfred had a small smile playing on his lips.

‘The little guardian will surely be a good influence on them.’ Alfred thought before heading to bed himself.

[iphoenixrising]

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with 

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

**

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

**

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

**

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

**

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

**

The Titans make it for the service. 

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

**

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

**

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - When Lovely meets Angel

Summary: When the boyfriends are away, their partners try their best to be functioning members of society. Spoiler alert: they failed. 

Tw: [Mentions of Adam], [Profanity] and [Very, very brief mention of drugs. Like, half a sentence]

I shared this oneshot in the Discord server and I thought to share it here too before uploading it on AO3 later this weekend. 

-

You smile as your eyes do their best to track Vincent’s every move. Your head spins as your boyfriend flits from one room to another, never pausing for even a second. His duffel bag is lying beside you on the couch, gradually full of clothes, toiletries and other travelling necessities as he chucks them in Mach speed. 

You pick up the clothes that didn’t make it into the bag. You fold them nicely before placing them in with the rest. 

“Alright, I’ve stocked up the pantry to last at least for a few weeks, b-but I’ll be back by Sunday so don’t worry.” The blur that was Vincent said as he ran from their shared bedroom to the kitchen. With a fond shake of your head, you observe the Vampire made one last round. 

Letting Vincent fuss is your way of helping him calm down. And sure enough, it only takes a few minutes until your boyfriend is satisfied with the apartment - from the wards that he erected to the well-stocked kitchen and rows of laundry detergents. With the way he prepared for his departure, you couldn’t help but want to remind Vincent that he’ll only be leaving for three days; not three months. 

“Do you have Alexis’ number, Lovely? Sam’s?” Vincent asks - again - in concern as he pad towards you and the duffel bag. “Hang on, I’ll forward them to you now -” 

You grab his hand before he could reach for his phone and force him to sit beside you on the couch. You peck him on the cheek to startle him. No matter how many times you’ve done this; Vincent always reacts the same. Startled with a tinge of red dusting his pale cheeks. A simple kiss is enough to leave him speechless and it never fails to make your heart skip a beat at how precious he is. 

“Yes, you gave them to me this morning. I have their numbers on speed dial for any emergency of the Adam kind.” You easily assure him, only to backtrack quickly when you see how wide his eyes went. Oh yikes, bad move! Bad move! “N-Not that there will be any problem! Haha! I mean, you’re only going away with Will for three days, right? I can hold the fort, don’t worry!” 

Vincent bit his lower lip, still hesitant. “I wish I didn’t have to go, Lovely. It hurts to be away from you…” His head tilts down and holds your hand tight, yet always mindful of his Supernatural strength. “Sometimes… sometimes I could still see you in Adam’s arms, so pale and sick… your blood on his mouth - ”

“Hey, hey, Vince? Look at me please.” You gently tilt his chin using your hand that wasn’t captured by your worrisome boyfriend. You made sure to properly look him in the eyes before smiling softly. “You got me in time and for that? I’m forever grateful, but that’s in the past, OK? I’m here now with you! We both have been making good progress at D.A.M.N so that has to count for something, yeah? We’re both stronger than we were before.” 

That earns a tiny smile from Vincent and you mentally cheer in victory. “You always know what to say, huh, Lovely? And yeah, we’re pretty badass now, huh? A Vampire and an Electro Energetic? We’ll conquer this city in less than a month.” He joked. 

You try to picture it: you and Vincent - the King and Queen of Dahlia. The first thing you would do is declare PJ Friday - where everyone must wear PJs every Friday and those that wear the silliest PJs get brownie points. Collect enough of them and they’ll get a free meal in the most expensive restaurant Dahlia has to offer. Vincent can handle the boring stuff like, governing and health care. 

...Now that’s a thought; Vincent as a politician. 

Ah wait - Will would probably be disappointed in them if they tried to do a hostile takeover of this city and you couldn’t bear to disappoint him. After all, no one can pull off the perfect sad dad look other than Vincent’s Sire. Not even your own dad! 

“ - Lovely? Uh, Earth to Lovely? You there?” 

Vincent’s warm voice broke you off from your mad train of thoughts. You flash a sheepish grin when he realised that you haven’t paid a single word he said. Vincent wants to appear annoyed but his lips are twitching, as if he’s holding back from laughing at the dumbfounded expression on your face. 

“Sorry, babe. I spaced out because Will was disappointed in us.”  

“...What? Will? Lovely, what the - ”

“Anyway, don’t worry about me.” You quickly interject before you have to explain yourself. “You got me food, Alexis’ and Sam’s numbers are on my speed dial and my powers have been growing nicely over the last few classes. I got this; you got this.” To seal the deal you added, “And I promise to call you twice a day; in the morning and before I go to bed. Sounds good?” 

That finally assured Vincent. The tension melts away from his taunt shoulders and when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet. You would’ve loved to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him on top of you and turn this into something more, but Will would surely call him if Vincent is late. 

Vincent moans when you pull away; disappointed and slightly frustrated. “Easy there, Vince. I’ll make sure to give you a very warm welcome when you get back.” You purr, loving how his eyes lid at your promise. 

But alas, as much as you love to drag Vincent to the bedroom, work comes first. So you allow Vincent to fuss around a little more before he slings the duffel bag over one shoulder, kisses you goodbye and leaves. 

Now, you planned this. You have a whole itinerary in your head for the days that Vincent is on a business trip with the King of the Solaire Clan. Assignments that need to be done, Despacito to learn on the piano (neither of them knew why Alexis dropped off an upright piano in their apartment on a random ass Wednesday night and when asked, she just cackled before pulling off a Batman and vanished into the night. So Vincent gave up trying to pester the answer out of her. You still think it’s some sort of an elaborate prank), boba pizza to cook for dinner tomorrow and a list of video games to pre-order so really, you would be so busy for the upcoming days that you wouldn’t even have the time to miss Vincent. 

If you repeat that long enough, you hope that’ll become true. 

Glancing at the clock hanging on the living room wall, you sigh at the time.10.30 PM. A little early to get ready for bed but hey, it’s not like there’s anything else that you want to do now. 

With little fanfare, you make sure that the apartment is locked and secure, switch off the lights before heading to the bedroom for your nightly ablutions.

-

Ok, that part about the itinerary? Yeah, that’s completely out of the window the moment you wake up missing Vincent’s arms around you. 

The gentle and warm sun rays pierce through the sheer curtains, promising a bright day ahead of you, but all you could think about is the space in this bedroom. Was the bed always this big? Was the bedroom always this quiet? Those questions rattled in your brain and it really doesn’t help that you can smell Vincent’s faint cologne lingered on the pillows. Soothing vanilla that never fails to clear your mind as opposed to sandalwood and bergamot. Vincent once claimed that the scent is too fancy for someone like him. 

Right now though? His cologne sends a pang of longing in your heart in his absence, and it’s only the first day! 

“I can’t stay here.” You decided out loud when the tangle of sleepiness ebbed away. Kicking the thick duvet off your body, you stomp to the bathroom to shower, dress up and quickly leave the apartment with nothing but your phone and backpack. 

You didn’t want to return to an empty apartment, so what better than walking around the city to distract yourself? Grab some breakfast at a new cafe, maybe do some window shopping afterwards… yeah, that sounds way better than anything you’ve planned before. 

Joggers pass you by as you walk through the park and the city slowly comes back to life. People are out and about, going through their monotonous day. Some are catching the bus, others are like her, eager to find something to eat. 

You recall that your classmate mentioned that they and someone named Damien found a Taiwanese bakery/cafe that recently opened up near the city’s library; a quaint little shop, squeezed between a hardware shop and a health & beauty care chain store. You can still remember how their eyes lit up as they excitedly described the brioche and the strawberry tiramisu they ate with vivid details. 

So that’s where you’re headed off to now. 

Apparently, the bakery is closer than you thought when you cut corners and jump through the shortcuts. Being born and raised here in Dahlia like so many others, you knew this city like the back of your hand. Though the existence of Shifters, Vampires, Daemons and more were a slap in the face to you.

Oh, that reminds you, be sure to ask Vincent if the Vampires have anything similar to Fangtasia here in this city. 

The bell above the door chimes when you enter the bakery. The sign outside says ‘OPEN’ but since it’s still quite early in the morning, you and a couple sitting at a table near the corner are the only customers currently. Manning behind the cashier is a young woman and her co-worker setting up freshly baked goods behind the display glass. 

You made a beeline to the counter. 

“Good morning. Uh, can I please have one sea salt coffee - regular size - one red bean mooncake and, umm…” You paused to scan the menu laid before you. “And a marble taro.” 

There. That's sort of a healthy breakfast, right? 

The young woman hardly bats an eye at your order. She drawl out the total amount of your food and drink to which you hand her some cash before choosing a table beside the large window so you could see the city and her people go about their lives. The scent of freshly baked pastries, hot chocolates and brewed coffees wash over you pleasantly. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if Vincent would love this place as much as you do… 

The cashier came over with a tray of your order before your musing could spiral down further. You thank her, snap a picture of your food and coffee for Vincent before enjoying your breakfast. It’s a perfect morning, well, almost a perfect morning… 

Halfway through your coffee, your phone vibrates. Vincent had texted back: 

‘Looks delish, Lovely! Make sure to finish your meal, OK? My flight was a nightmare - I’ll spare you the details - but Will and I reached the airport safely. I’ll call you soon, Lovely. I love you, always.’ 

Vincent’s text helps to fill his absence, somewhat. You polish off the last bit of your coffee and exhale loudly; there’s no use moping around. Adventure awaits! After all, there’s never a dull day here in Dahlia. For all you know, something is right around the corner just for you! 

Tummy warm and full, you bask in the morning light for a few more minutes before exiting the bakery. 

...And promptly collide with a walking furnace. Because seriously, the moment your chest hits them, it feels as if their body heat lunges at you.

“Ow!” You fell and landed hard on your ass. Whoever had the misfortune to collide against you, they were a tad taller and seemed to be in a rush to be able to hit you with an impact. 

“Oh fuck! I’m so so sorry! Are you alright!? I ran too fast because I always missed out on their marble taros! Oh gosh, oh gosh; can you hear me? Shit, I really hope I didn’t hurt you too badly…” The stranger rambled worriedly. 

“I-I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” You assured them and gladly grabbed the offered hand. They gently pull you up from the pavement. 

“You sure? I can take you to the hospital right now if you want!” They pressed on, eyes checking for any sign of injuries on your body. “Just after I buy my pastries though.” 

You didn’t expect the blatant honesty; the idea that some loaves of bread are this person's top priorities crack you up. You couldn’t help it, so you burst out a giggle. 

“I’m good, I’m good; don’t worry.” You hiccup and wipe a stray tear from the corner of your right eye. You can’t believe this. “Go get your bread and oh, for the record? I totally get why you rush here. Their marble taro is really something else. You better hurry up; I heard the cashier said they’ll be making the last batch for the day.”

You smirk when the walking furnace’s eyes widen in horror. They darted into the bakery without a single word. The bell chimes loudly when they rush to yank the door and scramble towards the counter.

Just for the fuck of it, you lean against the window and decide to wait. Snippets of frantic conversation can be heard inside and it wasn’t long before the bell tinkle once more. 

The stranger that bumped into you pout, clutching a huge paper bag of pastries close to their chest as if they feared you would snatch it. “You lied.” 

“Shocker, I know.” You tease and then you feel your blood froze despite the warm morning. You suddenly recalled where and from whom you heard those words before and quickly stomped the image out of your head. 

“Uh, dude? Are you sure you’re alright? You look super pale.” The stranger narrowed their eyes on you. Despite the blatant concern on their face and how genuinely friendly and cheerful their voice is, you get the feeling that they’re trying to pull you apart by the seams to see if you would lie or not. 

So you opt for the honest option. “I will be.” You assured them. “Just some… bad memories pop up.” 

“Huh, well that sucks.” They glance at the bag of pastries for a moment, silent and contemplating. They then thrust it practically in your face before you could do so much as flinch. “You want some? Food always helps me feel good when I’m sad.” 

The loaves of bread smelled really good but for the second time, you giggled. “No, no, I’m full. Thank you though; that’s very kind of you to offer.” 

“It’s only the right thing to do.” They reply with an easy shrug. You get the feeling that the stranger’s kindness is something remarkable. “The name is -” 

Across the street, a truck driver pressed the horn when the car in front of him refused to budge despite the traffic lights having switched from red to green for ten minutes now.

“ - but you can call me Angel; all my friends do. Now that we’ve bumped into one another, your destiny just altered. Our fates will forever be intertwined once you give me your name.” 

Oh, you like where this is going.

“I’m - ” The driver in front of the truck kicked open his door and proceeded to shout at the truck driver. A line of cars gradually formed behind the vehicle and horns began to blare as a brawl broke out in the middle of the road. “ - nice to meet you!” 

“A lovely name…” Here your new friend - Angel - trailed off, their eyes appraising your body. “For a lovely soul. Lovely. Huh. Can I call you that?” 

Gorgeous, brimming with moxie mix with a spoonful of friendly flirting? Oh, you like them more and more by the second. 

Also, you idly wondered if there’s some weird magic attached to your name or else this is going to be a pattern every time you introduce yourself. 

“Sure.” You answered, and the two of you shook hands. 

“Say… who do you think would win? Godzilla or King Kong?” 

“Psh, is that even a question? Godzilla, obviously. He’s the king of monsters for a reason! And grandpa got his Atomic Breath; what does Kong even have?” 

“You. I like you. I have a feeling that this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.” 

When there’s no escaping from Angel’s octopus arm of love and friendship around your shoulders, you let yourself be swept away. 

-

“So you’re an Electro Energetic?” 

“Yup.” 

“Got any plans on what you’re going to be in the future?” 

“To shed my mortal body and transform into King Ghidorah.”

“...Can I be the left head?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that. We need the right head, though.” 

“I’ll give my friend a call; they’re a Freelancer studying at D.A.M.N too. Maybe you’ve seen them around?”

-

“Wait - you said your boyfriend is a Vampire?”

“He’s more of a dork than a Vampire, but yeah.”

“Cool, cool. Hey, my boyfriend is a Werewolf. Do you know what this means?” 

“...Twilight marathon?” 

“Twilight marathon! We have to do it. Let’s go, Lovely; you’re going to crash at my place for the best movie night of your life!” 

“I’ll grab some food and drinks from my place. Will be there in twenty minutes.” 

-

“This is the third time I’ve watched these movies and I think they just got worse over the years.” You complained, chugging down your fourth can of Red Bull. You don’t drink, so you wondered if this is how it feels like to slowly go drunk. Or high. 

You’re in your sleep wear - a simple black shorts and one of Vincent’s t-shirts. Exhausted, stomach bloated with snacks; you feel like shit. Your body is seconds away from saying fuck it and crash down. 

And yet you’ve never felt so alive before. 

The time on your phone says it's 3.23 AM; you and Angel slough through the first two movies and now finally, the end credits for Eclipse roll down on the TV screen. Angel lives with their boyfriend - who was on a business trip, coincidentally - in a very homely apartment. When you first entered, you could tell just what sort of couple they are. 

The place looks as if a small tornado tried to turn the apartment upside down but was fended off just barely - little knick knacks such as rainbow beaded bracelets were carelessly thrown on the kitchen counter behind a microwave, a crop top with printed bongo cats floating within a glittered galaxy is drape over a dining chair, three heart-shaped balloons knock against one another from the living room’s ceiling and for some reason, the USB stereo is on the floor playing Black Pink’s Pretty Savage. 

The other half of the apartment - the more organised side - are filled with neatly shelved books of all genres, an untouched bowl of fruits are on the coffee table and most of the expensive-looking dishes and silverwares are displayed behind a glass cabinet. Those were probably gifts from family and friends. 

You spend an entire day here, engaging in stupid but fun conversations with Angel, painted each others’ nails and even shop online for the sluttiest outfit that you two could find just for the hell of it before binge-watching the entire Twilight series. 

Unlike you, however, Angel is buzzing around like a hyperactive bunny on crackhead energy. Halfway through New Moon, she busted out stacks of colourful sticky notes, some thumbtacks and a huge yarn ball. You watch with utter fascination as they begin to furiously write down every little thing about the Vampires and Werewolves representations from the movies to your and their boyfriend. 

It’s 3.25 AM now. The entire living room wall looks like an abstract form of an art piece, made of common stationeries. 

Hair in a messy bun, a stick of strawberry pocky dangling from their lips like a lit cigarette, a black sharpie in one hand and dressed in black cat onesie, Angel tapped on the piece of red sticky note that wrote ‘culture appropriation or nah?’

“So what have we learned so far?” 

“Vampires don't sparkle.” You immediately piped up and this time, cracked open a can of black coffee. A brand name from Japan, but the bitter tang immediately zolt your already fried nerves to maximum level. You love it. “Period.” 

“Noted! Now, does this make Stephenie Meyer racist!?” 

You actually had to pause and consider that. “Will need to get you back on that one.” 

Angel hurried to scribble ‘remind Lovely for feedback’ inside the same note. “Very well. We shall move on to the Werewolves.” They start to list down the characteristics of the Werewolves portrayed in the movies and then compare them to their boyfriend; but the thing is, they didn’t realise that they verbally list down the quirks of their Shifter lover instead. 

You find it cute that Angel rambled on and on about someone named Davey, so you didn’t interrupt them. Hell, you’d be the same with Vincent. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you got sidetracked from comparing your lovers to spilling the tea about your relationships. 

“After we first slept together, I said to Davey, “Thanks for the sex, bro” complete with a peace sign and a wink. He got so mad that he refused to let me off the bed until I promised to stay.” Angel laughs fondly. They tear open a bag of Cheetos Puffs and throw one into your open mouth. The two of you celebrate with a high-five. 

“Vince freaked out when I told him he was my first.” You chewed, swallowed and washed the after taste of the junk food with even more coffee. Who needs sleep when you could reach divinity with cans of Red Bulls, Kirin Fire coffees and junk foods. “He was extra sweet to me the next day as if he was trying to make up for how rough he was. You could totally see how precious he is from Pluto.” 

“That’s so cute!” Angel cooed. “You’ve landed the golden D, dude. Congrats.” 

“Sounds like you’re the same. To us!” 

You clink your can of coffee with Angel’s bottle of Mountain Dew. 

Eventually, the night made way to the rising sun and the final scene of Breaking Dawn came to a close. The living room is a total mess - blankets and pillows are strewn all over the floor, empty bags of chips, cans and bottles are underneath the coffee table and you swore that one rolled underneath the couch and the wall is still a sad, modern version of cubism with strings. 

“So…” You tilt your head to stare at a wide-eyed Angel, still buzzing with energy. “Want to play Mario Kart? Loser has to let the winner dress them for the day.” 

“You’re on! I hope you like crop tops” 

-

Vincent couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. The airport is bustling with people rushing for their early morning flights despite dawn barely peeking from the horizon. Like most of the humans around them, Vincent and Will are waiting for their boarding gate to open. 

Speaking of Will, he had wandered off to inquire about their time of arrival to one of the help counters somewhere near the vending machines that they passed. 

These past three days felt like three years without Lovely at his side. Vincent was an idiot to think that a few simple phone calls were enough to chase the yearning of his undead heart for his lover. His sweet and strong, Lovely. 

How are they right now? Judging from the different time zones, Vincent reckoned that it’s nearly midnight where the city of Dahlia is right now. Is Lovely getting ready for bed? What did they have for dinner? How was their day? 

An amused chuckle startled Vincent from his musing. “Oh Vincent, did your phone somehow insult you? You’ve been glaring at it for at least five minutes since I’ve returned.” 

“G-Geez! Don’t sneak up on me like that, old man.” Vincent mumbled, he nearly dropped his phone from his Sire’s sudden and silent appearance. 

“Apologies. Perhaps you should give them a call?” Will suggested as he took a seat beside him. He offers a warm, knowing smile at Vincent’s confused expression. “You wore a lovelorn expression when you stared at your phone. Do us both a favour and call your Lovely, hmm?” 

“...I shouldn’t. They’re probably sleeping - ”

“Maybe. Or maybe not. For all you know, they might still be up, waiting for you to call them.” 

Vincent gave in. He desperately needed to hear Lovely's voice. Besides, their sleepy whines are so adorable and he misses them terribly. 

Will occupied himself with a John Grisham book while Vincent pressed familiar numbers and held his phone up to his ear. Lovely answered in less than a minute. 

“Hey, Lovely.” Vincent greets, feeling the uneasiness and longing untangled themselves from his chest. He can’t wait to return home and have them in his arms again. The next time he has to go on a business trip again, he’ll bring Lovely along. If Will has a problem with it, he could take Alexis. “Sorry for calling you again so late at night. I… I just need to hear your voice again. Anyway, are you on the bed - ”

“Oh my god, did you just throw your underwear at me!?” 

“Uh, Lovely?” 

Vincent immediately pull the phone away when his ear is assaulted by a cacophony of K-pop music blaring in the background, accompanied by an obnoxious laugh of glee and Lovely’s mutterings of “That slut is going to get it now”, “300% sugar in your boba tea? Dude, just do cocaine instead!” and “Oh, Dilf alert! He has a French accent too? A solid 8/10 from me, definitely.” 

Beside him, Will snorts. He happily ignores the glare Vincent threw at him and flips a page. 

But for a brief, crazy moment, Vincent was struck with fear at the thought of his lover harbouring a secret crush on his Sire. He still remembers how freely Lovely blush and giggle whenever Will was around.

“Lovely? Is everything alright?” Vincent tries again, straining to hear through the music and someone’s chattering. Who is with his Lovely past midnight? He starts to worry and feel… a little uncomfortable. 

“Vincent? What’s up, baby? You don’t usually call me so late.” Lovely reply, sounding a bit distracted. Suddenly, Vincent heard a crash, followed by a, “It’s not broken! It’s all good!” 

“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you at a party?” Vincent didn’t demand, he inquired as firmly as possible. Flashes of his Lovely dancing at a club or hanging out with some faceless man and woman keep popping in his mind. It stirs his bloodlust. 

Will idly pat his hand to calm Vincent down, eyes still glued to his book. 

“I’m at home; had a friend over for the night. The apartment is just… too quiet without you.” 

Lovely’s easy and genuine admittance settled something feral inside of Vincent. He guessed that his lover and their friend must be having a sleepover. 

“I’m sorry that I had to leave, Lovely.” Vincent murmurs. “Will and I are at the airport right now. We should be boarding in thirty minutes.” Here, he paused and continued in a quieter tone, “I’ve missed you so much, Lovely. I’ve left my heart with you and… well, it’s just not the same without you.”

“See!? Prime example of a golden D there, Lovely!” Someone - Vincent assumed is his lover’s friend - shriek in the background. 

Their sudden shriek didn’t surprise him. What did, however, was another, stranger’s voice joining in their conversation. 

From a couple of seats, right in front of Vincent. Right here in the airport. 

“Don’t shriek into the phone, Angel! Are you trying to make me go deaf in one ear!?” 

The man - no, Shifter, grumbled. Vincent could smell the scent of lush forest and dirt around him; a Werewolf, then. But his nature wasn’t the reason why Vincent’s jaw is hanging open. 

Will, who had given up the pretence of reading his book, couldn’t hold himself back from grinning widely. He already connected the dots, unlike Vincent. “Oh my, isn’t that Alpha Shaw? He must be on a business trip as well! What a small world.” 

Luckily Vincent was clutching his phone tightly or not he would’ve dropped it in shock. Alpha Shaw? No way… David Shaw!? The Alpha of the Werewolf’s pack in Dahlia!? What the fuck - 

“Turn down the volume, Angel, before the neighbours call the police!” Lovely shouted back. 

In front of him, Vincent and Will watch the impressive scowl on David Shaw’s - the Werewolf King of Dahlia, himself - face. “Uh, excuse me? The fuck? It’s way past midnight, Angel. Where are you; who are you with?” 

“Looks like your lover made a new friend.” Will said in mock-whisper. Even though both of them knew full well that the Shifter wouldn’t be able to hear them from where they are in his human form. “I have a feeling that the Shaw pack and the Solaire clan will be closely in touch in the coming days.” 

Vincent shakes his head; truly, his Lovely is something else. Without hesitation, the Vampire Prince got up to introduce himself to the annoyed Werewolf. He didn’t take it personally when the Shifter shot him a glare for interrupting his phone call. If looks could kill, well, let’s just say that Vincent is thankful that being a Vampire means that he’s not about to be a Werewolf’s chew toy anytime soon. 

“Hi. I’m Vincent Solaire - yes, you heard that right - and before you ask, I’m pretty sure our lovers are currently hanging out at my place right now.” 

That got the Alpha to do a wonderful imitation of a statue. He wouldn’t look out of place at the Louvre, Vincent thought.

David exhales loudly - as if he damn close to being done with everything that this world has to offer - before addressing his lover on the other side of the phone. “The things you got yourself into, you damn troublemaker.” No doubt that David probably isn’t too keen to know that his mate is friends with a Vampire’s lover, but Will has a knack for turning enemies to allies; he’ll let his Sire deal with the politics once they get back to Dahlia. 

“You love me!” Angel smugly replied. “Oh and guess what? We binge watched the entire Twilight movie series and we got some questions!” 

“And uh, just a heads up.” Lovely’s voice hesitantly chimes through Vincent’s phone. “We haven’t slept since you guys left. I mean, I slept the day you left Vince, but, uh...” 

Vincent winces and politely ignores David’s flow of cursing under his breath. 

They left home for only three days, surely their apartments are still standing and their lovers aren’t drunk, high or planning to commit anarchy!

...Right? 

[pallasperilous]

Boneless Wings

 {AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares. 

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now. 

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it. 

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1.  Bird mites. Holy shit. 

 2.  Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

 3.  Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube. 

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose. 

4.  The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is. 

 5.  When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

 6.  Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

 7.  After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a  “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning. 

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can. 

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit. 

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8.  No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.” 

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry. 

 9.  Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

 10.  Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

 11.  You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice. 

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex. 

12a.  One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV. 

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

 12b.  The less said about angel molt, the better. 

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit. 

 13.  There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings. 

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

 14.  Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas. 

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

 15.  Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

  16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement. 

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

 16.  So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon. 

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously). 

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off. 

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17.  For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration. 

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening. 

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack. 

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel. 

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy. 

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato. 

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually. 

 18.  There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything. 

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

 19.  Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership. 

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns. 

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

 20.  Seriously though, the bird mites. 

Gross.