#Tolerance Manor kitties

[graveglamour]

In this hellscape of ours, let me give you a little happiness:

Mio Kallos -- my FIV tuxedo baby who came to live with us 1.5 yrs ago -- is living his best indoor boy life. I found him in the library this morning, laying on the Egyptian jackal cuddled behind my bison.

Adora Belle, his older sister, is his favorite cuddle buddy.

And Cosina Kraska, his little sister, is his favorite partner in crime playmate.

And, happily, they all love each other.

[minorlyatfault]

❝𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘, 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 !❞ j. todd x f!reader

i run in & turn on the lights,

run my hands to his short, black hair,

"i love you, harvey, i don't care."

𝓦arnings: grammatical errors. the joker & his stupid, ugly, rusty, stinky crowbar.

𝓝otes

001. weejendn reached 200!!9#$($(#($ ohmygods THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU..DNDSSKJS

002. SCREAMING

003. idea ws by @/rob1nzex because i don't tolerate jason todd angst. ZzldaLSVR MEANLONE

004. ppl r prolly annoyed w my works bc most of them r js comforting j. todd. IMSORRRIRYDHDJ i js lobelobelobe comforting j. todd

jason returns home earlier than he normally does. not because the streets of gotham are somehow safer▰just because he's tired. his body is weighed down as he locks his bike in the garage of his apartment building. the night air is chilly, nipping at the edges of his jacket, but he doesn't even notice. he should eat something. he should wait for you. but he won't.

he pulls himself up the stairs, unlocks the door, & enters his apartment. it's nothing like the manor, where there is always someone awake, where the floors creak under the weight of too many bodies, where alfred would make him eat before he could do anything else. here, it's just him.

well, sometimes.

your keys aren’t by the door, which means you’re probably at work. jason’s aware of that, so he doesn’t wait around. he tosses his helmet onto the couch, shrugs off his jacket, & heads straight for the bathroom.

the shower is hot, but he hardly flinches. he washes himself off, zoning out as the blood(his & others' mostly others')rinses away down the drain. his fingers dig into the bruises along his ribs, seeing how painful they are. not bad. he's had worse.

then he dries off, puts on a pair of sweats, & flops onto the bed. the sheets are cold. though, they wouldn't be if you were here. but you're not, so he goes to bed early.

he shouldn't. he knows what happens when he goes to bed too early.

jason doesn't dream much▰at least, not about anything good. tonight is no different.

the crowbar swings.

his ribs crack.

joker's laughing, & he's down on the floor, choking, blood in his lips. he struggles to get up, but his arms refuse to move. every part of him aches. he can't catch his breath▰

the joker swings again.

& again.

& again.

again.

again. again. again. again.

jason jolts awake. screamed. his muscles shaking wildly, his breathing clipped & harsh. his heart thudding in his chest, & he feels sure he still feels the memory agony of the crowbar digging into his skin.

the room is black.

quiet.

no one runs in to turn on the light.

jason lets out a deep breath, his body still shaking, & runs a hand through his short, black hair. it's okay. it's okay. it's okay. he's accustomed to this. he can do it. he’s used to this. he should get used to this. he▰

the door opens.

light comes into the room.

jason doesn't have time to move before you barge in, wearing your hello kitty pajamas, you look like you just came out of the shower. when did you arrive?

"jay?" you're whispery, but urgent, as if you're not sure he won't disappear on you if you're too loud.

he doesn't move. he just blinks at you, still trapped between the past & the now. he didn't expect you. he didn't expect anyone.

you sigh, moving closer, & before he can tell you anything, you move in & ran your fingers through his hair, just as he'd done moments before. your touch is soft, cautious, centering. like he's some delicate art that's meant to be in a museum. jason's shoulders relax a bit, as if the burden of his own head is just a little less heavy with you around.

"you're okay," you whisper. "you're safe."

jason swallows. his throat is tightened he wants to tell you something, but all that gets out is, "you weren't supposed to be home yet."

you give a soft laugh, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. "i got off early." you pause before continuing, "are you okay?"

jason laughs harshly, turning away. "yeah. just a nightmare."

you don't appear to believe him, but you don't press. you sit down next to him on the bed, your hand still in his hair, letting the silence remain. jason allows you to.

for a moment, neither of you speaks.

then, softly, jason says, "i don't understand why you stay."

you blink. "what?"

his jaw tightens. "you're too good. & i'm just…" he takes a harsh breath, shaking his head. "i don't know. i don't want to mess you up."

your brows furrow, but your voice remains soft. "jason."

"i mean it," he grumbles. "i don't want to▰taint you. you should be with someone▰"

"say 'better' & i'm gonna hit you," you cut in, & jason looks at you, taken aback. you're frowning at him now, but not angrily. it's more frustration. sadness. you're upset.(no shit)

you, once again, let out a sigh & reposition so you're facing him correctly. "you ever seen a pomegranate?"

jason blinks. "what?"

"a pomegranate," you say again. "it's messy. red & kinda violent-looking when you open it up. if you're careless, it stains everything. but if you take your time with it. if you're patient, it's sweet. worth it." your thumb traces lightly over his temple. "you think you're just a mess, jason. but you're not. you've just never been handled right."

jason looks at you.

you look back.

for a moment, you wonder if he's going to fight. perhaps he's going to sneer, roll his eyes, inform you that you're wrong. but he doesn't. he simply looks… exhausted.

he slowly exhales, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, & your heart breaks.

you shift your position, now lying beside him, still running your fingers through his hair. "i love you, jay." you whisper. "i don't care that you think you're messy, or broken, or whatever else your mind is trying to make you think. i love you, i'm not leaving. mess me up all you want. taint me. you're worth the mess.”

jason doesn't answer immediately. but eventually, his hand reaches for yours, interlacing his & your fingers together.

"…okay," he whispers.

you smile, laying a kiss on his lips.

"okay."

© minorlyatfault, 2025.

[influenzalake]

cat boy Damian Wayne headcanons

because cat boy Damian is canon now 

- when Damian is initially turned into a cat, he still retains all of his memories and human mannerisms

- he can still be Robin for a few weeks, his father monitors his condition day by day

- as time passes he turns more and more into a cat, not just on the outside. 

- Bruce is kind of nervous? Will Damian forget everything they went through as he changes :( ? Will he forget? Will he regress?

- Bruce's worries are quelled when his son refuses to leave Wayne Manor unless he sniffs the grounds top to bottom. His urge to patrol is still present, just now in cat form. Damian must secure his territory and Bruce finds that he can tolerate that. 

- Damian and Alfred find themselves going at it more often than they probably should, but Damian will just not take a proper bath! Alfred claims licking yourself is not true hygiene, but Damian disagrees. 

- total Napoleon cat personality type, he needs his scent on everything he cares about and will plop himself on whatever and whoever to make a point 

-  lots of kitty cuddles 

- and licks

- Selina is having a field day

- Damian eventually spreads out and starts to patrol Gotham again, much to his father's chagrin

- Damian understands Gotham as his territory, so catboy Robin goes on the hunt

- At least he still wears his suit and mask, his identity is safe. Of course, who would spend any more brain power wondering who exactly Evolution Update Robin is when he's just so cute?

- Damian still has his sense of justice, but now goes about it differently

- He utilizes his new agility and claws the most. Gotham criminals are now the butt of every newscaster's joke. "getting mollywhopped by little mew mew" is not a good look for self proclaimed "tough guys" 

- Batman now has to wrangle villains and his feline son on patrol nights. 

- Damian goes in without a fight, to his cat brain he has finished his rounds and can now go back home to his base of operations (and dinner)

- Jon is always finding excuses to "check on" his best friend

- Tim and Dick have a whole binder full of kitty Dami photos, both have sworn an oath of secrecy

- Cass drops by and will go for snuggles unapologetically

- she has the battle scars to prove it

- Jason finds this whole thing hilarious, but keeps his distance in case it is contagious 

- Citizens go out in droves to possibly catch Cat Boy Robin out and about, also becoming easy targets for Gotham villains 

- When they inevitably do become kidnapped or worse, they get both a savior and unforgettable moment, all in the form of fluff

- Bruce eventually finds a cure and while he finds this entire situation oddly comical at times, he does want his son back. His real human son, when his snappy quips are in the form of words and not hissing 

[roselightfairy]

I know it’s been a million and a half years since there was any modverse collab content, but in honor of the WIP prompt reminding me that this existed - and our own sweet friends at home - have some modverse kitty content from me and @deheerkonijn to you!

(elf cats live a long time shhh)

...

The furniture in the parlor was . . . stiff.

Not hard, exactly – the sofa where Gimli sat was cushioned enough that no one could have complained, and even if that had been the problem, there were enough throw pillows (lying scattered across the floor where Legolas had tossed them) to remedy them. It was just that it was almost . . . a little too upright to be quite comfortable, as though made for someone with better posture than he had – even if Legolas, lounging horizontally with his legs across Gimli’s lap, seemed to belie that thought. It was like everything in this manor so far: ornately-carved taps and deep-basined sinks; vast archways and tall, narrow windows with fastenings too high to comfortably open. Beautiful architecture: a building made to be looked at, not lived in.

And yet live in it they did – Legolas, who had navigated this place as easily as he did his apartment at home, knowing exactly which staircase to tug Gimli up to dump their luggage unceremoniously on the bed, rummaging unself-consciously through a tall liquor cabinet to help himself (and Gimli, too) to wine that would have come with an absolutely forbidding price tag in Minas Tirith. Thranduil, who had walked in on Legolas doing this in the kitchen and made no comment but a droll, “More excited to see the wine than your own father, then?”

He sat perfectly upright across the room in his own armchair now, nodding along as Legolas spun an epic narrative of their train journey here. Gimli sat quietly and watched him – watched them, father and son, the ways they took up space in this sitting room. Thranduil’s posture made the space into a council table, the armchair into its head; he sat as though holding court – but Legolas was the one who ran it, whose conversation held the room in rapture, both of them rotating into the captivating orbit of his presence. Gimli wasn’t sure how he felt yet about the Prime Minister of Eryn Lasgalen, but this at least he could admire – that he had made this place, stiff and upright as it was, a home for Legolas.

“– and then he was like, ‘Who do you think you’re visiting, the PM?’ and Gimli just said, ‘Yes,’” Legolas was giggling now, nudging Gimli’s thigh with a heel. “Completely straight-faced! I couldn’t stop laughing. Tell him the rest, meleth.”

Gimli laughed, despite himself – and was this a skill that Legolas had inherited from his father, then? He could feel the effort to put him at ease, to spread Legolas’s own comfort into Gimli – and it was working, softening the room around him like the furniture at his back.

He closed a hand fondly around Legolas’s ankle, trying not to track Thranduil’s eyes tracking the motion. “There’s not much more to say,” he said. “Or, at least, he didn’t seem to think so. Shut up for the rest of the train ride. Not a peep.”

“It was great,” Legolas interjected. “You would have loved it, Dad.”

“I’m sure I would.” Was that smile indulgent or tolerant? Either one was more than Gimli had dared to expect. “Well, I am glad you made it here, at any rate.”

“Me too.” Legolas twisted to aim his most endearing hopeful smile right into Gimli’s face. “I’m glad to show Gimli this place finally.”

“I had hoped you would manage it before your wedding,” said Thranduil. “Some other fathers might have hard words to say about that.” This with an arched eyebrow to match the wryness of his voice. “But, ah well, at least you came eventually. Oh – hello, Smudge.”

Gimli blinked, the non sequitur soaring directly over his head. Had he missed something? – but then, even as he opened his mouth to speak, a patter-clacking interjected in the silence and he turned towards the sound to see a slender tortoiseshell cat slinking its way through the gap in the half-ajar door. It moved very slowly, one dainty paw in front of the other, pale eyes narrowed as it took them all in.

“Smudge?” Gimli said.

“Smudge!” Legolas exclaimed with delight at the same time. “My best friend! Oh, Gimli, she’s been around forever. How is she doing, Dad?”

“See for yourself.” The cat – Smudge – made her way slowly across the room, pausing in front of the couch where they sat even as Legolas dropped a hand to the floor. She sniffed delicately at his fingers, nosing up and down his hand before stretching her head forward until his fingers parted around her ears – but just as his hand contracted to scratch her head, she turned deliberately away, letting his fingers drag along the full length of her body before leaving him to hop up onto the arm of Thranduil’s chair.

“Oh,” Legolas laughed. “Is someone mad at me for being away?” His voice turned into a croon at those last words, the tone he used when mock-scolding Athelas and Simbelmyne. “Were you so, so lonely without me?”

“You might have come back to visit earlier for her sake, if not for your father’s.” Thranduil’s long-suffering tone was spoiled by the twitch of a smile at the corners of his lips – and, to Gimli’s amazement, by the way the cat shoved her head into his hand, his fingers curling around the top of her head to scratch vigorously behind her ears. It might have looked regal, a monarch with his cat, except for the loud purring of the cat and the speed of his scratching fingers – not halfhearted at all, whatever he might claim.

“How are the kittens?” Legolas said. “I haven’t seen a picture in weeks – they must be so big!”

“Big enough to cause trouble.” Thranduil waved his unoccupied hand dismissively. “They’re around somewhere – they always turn up just when you don’t want them. Just like her.”

Did his voice – was that a shade of Legolas’s own croon in his voice?

“Smudge,” Gimli repeated, looking at the cat with a new respect. His first day in the home of Lasgalen’s Prime Minister and he had somehow already seen him soften!

“Smudge,” said Legolas, so fondly Gimli could practically see the hearts in his eyes. “She’s been around since I was a little kid; she’s like the mascot of this place. Cats live a long time here,” he added, at Gimli’s questioning look. “Must be the air.”

The air, or maybe the elves themselves – something about them that kept everything around them just a little younger than it should have been, just a little more sturdy. “How old is she then?”

“Late twenties now?” Thranduil mused. “She was only a kitten when she moved in” – moved in, Gimli noted, as if it had been a business negotiation – “but we didn’t know how old exactly.”

“But I was only a few years old,” said Legolas. “So yeah, must be late twenties. She was my best friend when I was little, Gimli. But she’s got a good few years left in her. Don’t you, Smudge? Come here!” He clicked his tongue.

Apparently, the cat’s ire was no more serious than Thranduil’s, for she hopped down from his chair and pattered her way across the floor back to Legolas’s beckoning fingers. When she reached them, though, he swept a hand under her and scooped her tiny body into the air as she squawked in displeasure. But Legolas only laughed, holding her up above his head as her paws flailed in the air.

“Ohh, you’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you,” he cooed, and lowered her onto his chest. “Come here, yes, that’s it.” In the same motion she had applied to Thranduil, Smudge drove her head into Legolas’s face, their noses colliding as Legolas giggled again. “Do you forgive me for leaving? Yes, I missed you, too. Oh, yes” – He laughed helplessly as the cat nuzzled his face, his neck, her paws now kneading at his chest. “Come here, I have someone for you to meet.” And without further ado he scooped her up again, sliding his whole body upright in the same motion, to present her to Gimli.

“Be careful,” Thranduil warned. “She doesn’t always take to strangers.”

“It’ll be okay,” said Legolas. “Just give her your hand to sniff.”

Gimli extended it cautiously. He’d never been much of a cat person – had never really understood how they ticked. But if this cat loved Legolas, surely they had at least that in common, right?

Her whiskers tickled his fingers, her nose cold and wet and velvety as it brushed just against his fingertips: once, twice. She withdrew, as if thinking – and then, cautiously, she nuzzled up against him just as she had with Legolas and Thranduil.

Gimli glanced to Legolas, and at his encouraging nod, he dared to scratch her behind the ears, too.

“She likes you,” said Legolas, grinning. “See, I told you she would!” He rested a hand on Gimli’s shoulder, warm and reassuring and meaningful. “Everybody does.”

In that moment, Gimli wasn’t sure Legolas was talking about the cat.

He flicked his eyes across the room to where Thranduil still sat, watching them – still with that tiny, almost soft smile, as though at the sight of his son, all of his dryness couldn’t help but fall away.

At least they had that in common. And Gimli felt, all of a sudden, a rush of fondness for Thranduil – for his father-in-law – for the home he had made for Legolas here, for the love he felt for his son and his cat. For sharing his fancy furniture and his expensive wine with Gimli, for welcoming him here, for the sake of the person they both loved.

And as an irrepressible smile began to bloom on his face in turn, as he relaxed back into his seat, Gimli thought that the sofa might have become just a touch more comfortable than it was.

[arty-chase]

Graveyard Siblings (3)

Some for revenge and some sibling bonding.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

-------

Adrien was next to be visited. Plagg woke him up from his sleep.

-------

“Kit, wake up. I want camembert.”

“Plagg, silence. You are not getting any cheese if you do that.”

“Sorry, Adrien but you are not my ‘master’ anymore.”

“Plagg? Why are you here? Where’s the ring?”

“The ring is as far away as possible and kept safely away. I am here because someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who?”

A cloaked, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to his room.

“Kitty. My Chaton. Did you miss me?” A sweet, familiar but yet so terrifying voice came from the figure.

She pulled down the hood to reveal Ladybug with a wicked-looking black mask with white lenses.

“What am I talking about? You do miss me. Your Bugaboo. Too bad I don’t feel the same, Adrien.”

Lightning flashed and it started to rain. The mask was gone, revealing his dead classmate, Marinette with chilling red eyes. The pigtails grew longer and curved upwards, giving the illusion of her having horns. Twin blades flashed and she leaped towards him. (Damian gave them to her with some lessons in exchange for spending time with, babysitting, the kwamis.)

Adrien scrambled away from the bed in the nick of time. A sword impaling the spot where he just was.

“Plagg, help. Where is the ring? I need to transform.”

“Sorry, kitten. I am not telling you. Even if you did have the ring, it’s not going to be much help.”

“Kitty, stay still. Then, we can be together. Just like you wanted.”

Adrien continued to dodge.

“What do you mean?” He all but screamed at Plagg.

“Pigtails, here, is a vengeful spirit. She’s not going to stop until she is satisfied. How about asking her what she wants?”

“Ladybug, what do you want?”

“What I wanted was a partner I could rely on, someone I can trust with my life, someone who wouldn’t stab me in the back for his own selfish gain. I wanted a friend who would have my back and not tell me to keep quiet at the price of my mental health and my relationships with people I care about. WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

She managed to get a cut on his left cheek.

Soon, he was on the ground, bleeding out on the round.

“Tell Hawkmoth that he better watch out. Because-” lightning struck and Plagg and Ladybug had disappeared, “his downfall is coming.” Her voice echoed through his room.

Adrien laid bleeding until Natalie opened the door after hearing a crash from the room and came to check on him. As she called an ambulance for Adrien, she wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for redemption and be spared from Ladybug’s wrath for her part in her murder.

Adrien had the word ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his back. Forever reminding him of his crimes.

--------

He wasn’t in school for a week after the incident. They all were told that Adrien had an accident while fencing.

Gabriel was a little panicking now.

He hired an exorcist, (John Constantine got a hefty amount and did a few flashy magic tricks to appease Gabriel but he didn’t lift the curse Maria put on the place. She is not someone to be on the bad side of and he thinks that he can’t lift it even if he wanted to.)

Emilie gets a little sus at Gabriel when he brought this strange man with a British accent into their home after their son got attacked in his own room with security tighter than Fort Knox.

She doesn’t buy that ‘accident’ bullshit that her husband, son and even Natalie tries to sell her. She thinks it is connected to what happened while she was in a coma.

-----

Adrien has a curse too.

(Credit to @raeuberprinzessin for giving me an idea)

He couldn’t act like the ‘Perfect Adrien’ in public anymore. Acting more like Chat Noir at first then, later a spoiled brat. His friends thought that he was finally rebelling against his father and encouraged it a lot.

Adrien started criticizing other people, strangers at first then to the people working on the photoshoots to his fans to his other school mates, people in his class and his friends. (The curse planted ideas into his head about what he should say and he said them all without thinking about the effect it has on other people)

People started avoiding him not liking his attitude and his comments about how they should behave and change something about them because he doesn’t like it that way and guilt-tripping them when he doesn’t get his way. Even Nino started to distance himself after he saw how Adrien talked to a fan.

The public thought it was a phase but as he got progressively worse, people started despising him. Adrien doesn’t realize this of course so far, happy that his father let him get away with ‘ruining the Agreste image.’ (Gabriel was worried about a potential vengeful ghost and making sure his wife didn't know about his stint as a supervillain. There was also the fact that the Afterlife made more sales than him again and managed to get on the cover of Vogue when he should have, dammit.) He was finally able to say what he wanted to without repercussions. Until he realized when Nino and everyone else cancelled for a hangout for the third time that week that he was slowly losing his friends.

He panics and tries to fix the situation. He didn’t want to be alone again.

He talks to Nino about it and to his horror, he couldn’t stop himself from saying many things that were a little hurtful. (Second part. The moment he realizes he is going to be alone. He is going to find out that yes, lies can hurt people. He is going to see it happen firsthand.)

Nino moved seats and told Adrien that their friendship was on hold until he apologized.

Soon, nearly every time his mouth opened, lies and insults about his friends or their embarrassing secrets came spilling out. Everyone hated him now and Mme. Bustier tried to give him a reprimand about his behaviour, which when he tried to defend himself, he found himself unable to speak.

He managed to explain to his father what caused his unpopularity by writing what happened to him. Unfortunately due to his poor behaviour before the second part of the curse was activated, his fan base was dwindling and people didn’t like him anymore so there was a hit on the Gabriel brand.

He no longer has to do modeling, clearing his schedule. But no one would spend time with him.

The best solution he could do with his predicament was to keep quiet and endure the loneliness and the glares of his classmates at school. Adrien was relegated to the back and nearly everyone avoided him. He was now a social pariah.

Even Lila avoided him because of her own curse which made Adrien turn into one of her previous victims. (She also didn’t ponder why Marinette rarely appears compared to the others.)

If Adrien felt a tiny bit remorseful or guilty for making Marinette keep quiet or betraying Ladybug, he can gain a little control over what he says.

The curse can be broken if he apologizes to Maria herself or to her grave.

------

The first few months, while Marinette adapted to living with the Waynes, Jason stayed over at Wayne Manor because having Maria living with him at his apartment wasn’t a good idea and he had no clue how to take care of a teenage girl.

On paper she is adopted by Bruce because Jason can’t. (Some CPS reasons.)

Making Jason a little more salty towards Bruce. “I found her first. I called dibs.”

Brought Maria to meet the other Outlaws and they adopted her too. “Hey, guys. She’s my sister first.”

Jason was the one to teach her how to shoot a gun because he was ‘the most capable’ of teaching her.

The first few months were a little tense with Marinette not fully trusting them and the same with the rest of the Batfam.

Jason warmed her up a bit to him by telling a little of why he took her here.

He was also the one to book them flight to Paris with Bruce’s credit card so she can tell her friends that she wasn’t dead in person.

They bonded more after stopping some nefarious plot in Paris while they were there. Let’s say Gentleman Ghost and something involving the catacombs in Paris. (I watched some Batman: Brave and the Bold for childhood nostalgia.)

Kwamis were animal-shaped and they were interesting creatures to be around. And very very curious.

There was a stressful day for Maria when all the Kwamis decided to play hide and seek. Damian somehow got roped into helping her as the only available person in the Manor and he will deny that he enjoyed it.

Damian is the little brother she always wanted and she is more tolerable compared to his brothers. There is also the fact that she trusts him with the kwamis and deep down, he feels super-honoured. (I just love older sister!Mari)

Tim and her being insomniac/coffee buddies. There has been many many interventions to stop this.

I get that Marinette is this selfless person and loves making people happy but she has siblings now and them eating the stuff she made for herself to enjoy, should get on her nerves after a while.

She makes a box with booby-traps in which she puts in her cookies and food.

There are many different layers of traps because this is the Batfam and each of them is non-lethal and more ridiculous.

Okay, I once read a fic about Marinette making a bear-trap style box to hide the Miracle Box so this box is also like that but kept for food. (Traps and Sneaks by quicksilversquared)

Someone (I vote a hungry Dick or Jason, maybe a suspicious Bruce) made a mistake of putting their hand into the box and the first trap activated.

Screams filled the house.

Everyone came down including Marinette.

Bruce asked, “Who did this?”

“It was me.”

“Why?”

“They kept eating the cookies.”

“There are other ways to stop them from doing that you know like a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign not a death trap box.”

“They are non-lethal.”

Bruce locked it away but Tim later stole it to tweak it and store his coffee. ------ (Part 4)

[grelleswife]

imagine sebastian discovering kitties kneading or like kneading on humans for the first time :3 maybe a day like when he was told to lie down from undertakers attack? he doesn't like it but the minute he has kitties on his bed one starts kneading!!! he never wants to stand up again...

Seb adores just about any feline mannerism, but he’s particularly enchanted when they start making biscuits. Those sweet, delicate paws, that contented purr! 😍 He might have first observed this cute habit of theirs during one of his early contracts…but didn’t experience it for himself until his period of convalescence after Undertaker almost turned him into a demonic shish kebab. Though Sebas tries to hide it, O!Ciel can see that his wounds are still troubling him, and the butler’s slowly going stir-crazy from his inability to run the household as he’s accustomed to. Normally, the earl simply wouldn’t tolerate a cat running about the manor, but if a feline companion could lift his dad’s spirits…he supposes he could make a concession. Only on account of these extenuating circumstances! 😤

O!Ciel obviously can’t fetch Her himself due to his allergies, but the butler’s favorite kitty is quite fond of Mey Rin. Thus, a quarter of an hour later, the maid knocks on Sebastian’s bedroom door before waltzing in with the Lady cradled in her arms. Happy tears spring to the demon’s eyes as Mey gently sets Her down in his lap. Like many animals, She is keenly attuned to Her person’s physical and mental well-being, and can tell right away that he’s under the weather. The black cat snuggles up to him and begins purring up a storm as Sebas pets Her. The demon’s already on cloud nine, but when She starts kneading his legs, he’s over the moon! Even though Her dainty claws occasionally prick his skin, he doesn’t mind in the least. She’s showing that She’s content in his presence, that She trusts him! This must be the closest a demon can come to feeling blessed. 😻 Having Her sprawled out on his lap also effectively keeps Sebastian captive, preventing him from trying to get out of bed and overexert himself, but it’s a happy imprisonment for the contented butler. Meanwhile, O!Ciel is secretly relieved that his dad is finally allowing himself to rest and heal. 🖤

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Request: Pyro/Reader--Fighting

Pyro x reader

Word Count: 1110

Request: @kyn-lyn-blog asked: Heyo may I request a john allerdyce x reader where they get into a huge fight (very angsty at first) and bother are ignoring the other and it turns into a who will give in and apologize first type thing but as it goes on it turns more and more into teasing and trying to get the other to break and goes from massive angst to playful. You can decide who gives in if any or if they just break code and make up. any time will do it doesn't matter (before he joins the BH or after ) thank you!!!

Power: Sharpshooting--the ability to shoot and always hit your target even around corners. Specific to guns. Range--one mile.

He was worried about your relationship; you could tell by the way you kept catching him looking at you with concern burning in those burning, brown eyes of his. Good. He deserved it after all the bullshit he’d put you through in the last couple weeks. How many times had he blown you off in favor of going to harass Bobby about his little crush on Rogue? Ever since she arrived at the manor, that girl had put about 17 wrenches in the way your little trio operated, and you’d tolerated it right up until the point that it started interfering with your actual relationship. 

The nonsense had to stop.

And when you’d voiced that opinion to John, of course it’d blown up into a fight. You saying you just wanted your boyfriend back; him claiming that he never left and ‘surely you’re imagining it; I only cancelled like twice!’

Needless to say, you hadn’t talked to any of them in two weeks, and honestly, it was doing wonders for your stress levels.

“Sniper!” Storm called for your attention by shouting your codename. It was simple, honest about what your powers were in a way that others like Rogue weren’t. “You’re pairing up with Pyro.”

Of fucking course.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea professor,” Kitty commented. “I think they’re fighting right now.”

“Even better. We have to be able to work as a team even if we don’t necessarily get along. You’re objective will be to run the course and escort a ‘civilian’ without letting them get hurt. Iceman, you’ll be the civilian. No powers.”

“This’ll end well,” Piotr muttered.

“Odds she shoots them both?” That was someone in the back; you couldn’t place who.

“Too damn high.” And that was Wolverine.

It’d been an ordeal to get the professor to allow you to keep your weapons on you when they’d first dragged you here kicking and screaming. They’d argued that you should only have them in the training room, and you weren’t really keen on being defenseless without your power in a strange environment. Guns weren’t exactly something he was keen on having in his home, but you managed to wear him down after a particularly nasty screaming deathmatch with Scott. Finally, the argument that stuck was, “How can my guns be more dangerous than a kid who can sling fire from his hands??” Still, you weren’t likely to risk having them confiscated because you decided to go wild and shoot your classmates.

“Whatever,” you muttered, pulling one of the pistols from its place on your thigh. You had two others in holsters on you: the other thigh and under your arm. You figured you probably didn’t need more than the one, though. “Let’s get this shit show going.”

The computer’s voice sounded the countdown as the doors closed behind the three of you. “Three. Two. One. Simulation start.”

And everything promptly went to shit since apparently this was a doomsday scenario where the entirety of Manhattan Island was on fire around you. Good for John, bad for your visibility.

Quickly, you popped off a couple rounds at the robots that were set up on the roof to your left. “I’m gonna get a bird’s eye view. See if I can see the finish line.”

“Great, let’s go,” John replied, immediately moving to follow.

“Uh-uh. You stay down here and deal with him. I’m not dragging your asses across the rooftops.” Honestly, John would probably be fine given his life before the school, but there was no way Bobby would be able to keep up without his powers.

“That won’t be safe,” Bobby complained. 

You shook your head. He may have been the usual leader to your little team, but not this time. “The firebug can cover you.” Fight or no, you didn’t resist the urge to give him a cheeky little wink before jogging into the nearest building.

Over the next several minutes, your plan to watch their backs from above worked brilliantly and you made quick progress towards the goal. Right up until a swarm of little buzzing robots made a beeline for you. There were too many for you to shoot even with your power; you just couldn’t pull the trigger fast enough. You were pinned with your back to the gravel roof.

Then suddenly the sky was alight above you.

As soon as it was safe, you whipped your head around to see the boys standing at the top of the stairwell about fifteen feet from you. “Well I hope you like looking at me without my eyebrows for a while,” you quipped breathlessly. The word ‘thanks’ was on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to give your boyfriend the satisfaction.

“I mean, there are other things to look at than just your face,” John grinned.

“Oh, gross!” Bobby complained, walking towards the little flag on the next roof that marked the drop-off point. 

“He gets like that when you remind him that other people can actually have sex with their girlfriends,” you jabbed while he was still in earshot.

Iceman’s only retort was to give you the finger over his shoulder.

“Speaking of sex . . .”

You rolled your eyes once more. “Really, Johnny? In the middle of a simulation? In the middle of a fight?”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Well, I was gonna apologize for the whole thing, but since you’re not interested . . .”

“John Allerdyce,” you growled.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. You were right; I shouldn’t have blown you off like that.” He smirked, pulling a little flame to him to have it dance between his fingers. “Besides, it’s so much more fun to fuck with him when you’re around.”

Snarling, you squeezed the trigger where your hand was loosely holding the gun at your side; the bullet lodged itself into the ground between his feet without you even having to aim. “Do this shit again, Johnny, and I’ll be making you dance.”

There was a lustful heat in his eyes as he stared into yours. He hadn’t even flinched at the shot; he knew you wouldn’t hurt him. “That’s kinda hot. Maybe I should piss you off more often.”

“Do it, firebug,” you challenged, annoyed despite the smirk pulling at your mouth, “and we’ll see just how good my aim really is.”

“Alright you two,” Wolverine called, breaking up the rather aggressive display of flirting, “break it up. You’re done here for the night.”

“First one to my room gets to dump water on Drake and Rogue from the second floor?” Pyro proposed. 

“Only if we put ice in it.��

“You’re on!”

[schnees-and-schnugs]

head empty baby schneebling ficlet ??? (just so yall know i had no idea what this was going to be about until i started typing so im gonna be surprised by what i write too). if it seems that winter has chronic ADHD brain in this fic its bc i have chronic ADHD brain and that’s just how i roll.

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

  Winter tried to ignore the meowing as long as she could. After all, there was not a single feline creature to be found in the manor, so either she’s dreaming or hallucinating. Or maybe her ears are ringing from her father’s latest tantrum. 

  Being held hostage at the dinner table and forced to listen to his incessant barking voice ought to have caused me permanent brain damage. She smirked under her covers. Now if I can close my eyes and go back to sleep-

  “MEEEEROOOWOOW”

  What the fuck is that?

  Winter knew she ought to get up but she really did not want to. Her thighs ached from horse riding lessons earlier in the day. Her head ached from her business studies her father forced down her throat. Her soul ached from the pain of existence. She was beginning to think she was being punished for some transgression- if being unbelievably charming and sexy deserved- actually, I don’t think I’m going to finish that train of thought. 

  Winter could only tolerate her own sense of humor in small doses, but giver her situation- her entire life up to this point- she didn’t think having an unbecoming jocularity was high up on her list of Current Problems and Tragedies. In fact, it’s quite low given that her father makes up the better part of the first half. 

  She rolled onto her side, one ear muffled by her pillow, and the other under the soft thick layer of her cotton blanket. The noise seemed to have disappeared, and Winter was quite okay with that. She wondered briefly of the possibility of a mountain lion finding its way into the Schnee Estate. She wasn’t even sure if wild animals such as that existed in Solitas, much less bright and pristine Atlas. Winter wasn’t even sure if mountain lions meowed. 

  If a beast made it’s way into the manor, what would I even do? No doubt she would try to locate the animal, gather Weiss and Whitley in her arms and stow them somewhere safe. Maybe even use a piece of meat to lure the lion into father’s bedroom, she mused. Winter tried lull herself back to sleep with the thought of her father begging her for mercy as she unleashes her new pet-

  “MREEEEEEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOW”

  Her eyes snapped open. Gods-

  A soft muffled voice followed the feline yell. A familiar voice. A voice exactly suited for one little boy she new very well. 

  Winter narrowed her eyes and listening closely. She could tell it was Whitley from the general childish sound of his tone, but due to her very comfortable position in bed, she couldn’t quite her the specifics. Huffing, she sat up and pricked up her ears.

  “... quiet....please kitty... you’re going to wake up....”

  Winter sputtered. Kitty?

  Did Whitley somehow bring a cat into the manor? She didn’t doubt that given the chance he would- he was overly fond of animals in a way that Winter never understood. Not that she hated animals per se, but the idea of the added responsibility of a pet on top of her already ever-growing responsibilities of being heir to the SDC did not sit well with her. Whitley on the other hand, being the third child, and well, and actual child, didn’t really have much to care about beyond his normal tutoring sessions. Which means that, of course he can have a tiny bird feeders outside his window to feed the little birdies and cry at the sight of a roasted chicken because how could they kill and cook and innocent little animal?

  Winter didn’t understand how a child under 10 years of age could be taken by vegan persuasions- even Father was shocked to silence at that outburst at the dinner table.

  The sound of Whitley’s voice faded out as Winter strained her ears. If he did bring a cat into the manor, she needed to fix that immediately. Father would be furious at not only being woken up in the middle of the night but Whitley breaking the strict rule of no animals whatsoever allowed indoors.

  Father is allergic.

  (What animal he’s allergic to is unknown, but Winter suspects he’s just afraid of them).

  Sliding off the bed, Winter winced at the feeling of cold tile on her bare feet. She simultaneously thought of giving Whitley a good scolding for making her roll off of bed at such an ungodly hour and thanking the Gods that Whitley’s room was right next to hers on the other side of the wall. And the farthest away from Father’s room.

  Sliding her feet into a pair of pale blue fluffy slippers, she cautiously stepped out of her room and into the hallway. The moment the clock strikes 12 the hallway lamps usually shut off on their own, leaving at least this portion of the manor pitch black until the sun rises and lights up through the windows. If Father was working late he would manually change the lights to turn off at a later time- only to suite himself, of course. Everyone else who had the misfortune of living in the manor had to finish up and be back in their rooms by midnight or suffer having to find their room in the dark among the endless doors that lined the hallway. Winter had mastered the art of blindly walking down this hall- but not without multiple mishaps and embarrassments at first, unfortunately. 

  Arms outstretched, Winter felt her way from her doorway to Whitley’s room. She kept close to the wall and tiptoed, feeling for the doorknob before pressing her ear against the room door.

  “Are you hungry little kitty?” There was an affirmative purr and Whitley hummed. “I’m going to have to find you some treats...”

  Winter could practically hear the cogs turning in his little adolescent mind. She knew for sure that Whitley was formulating a plan to break into the food storage for the animals in Mom’s garden- would they even have any cat food in there? He surely is going to be disappointed. 

  Winter sighed. She almost wished she had stayed in bed. She turned the knob and nudged open the door, prompting Whitley to softly gasp. 

  “Winnie!” She heard him quickly shift on his bed. Winter stepped fully into the space before gently closing the door behind her. She turned towards him and assessed the scene before her. Whitley, in his white nightgown, sat in the middle of the bed. He was cradling a suspicious lump wrapped up with his blanket while his round face was contorted by a small frown as he stared back at his oldest sister.

  “Father says that we shouldn’t leave out room after midnight”, the lump shifted and Whitley clutched it tighter.

  “Father also says we aren’t allowed to bring animals into the manor...” Winter crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that on your lap?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Are you sure?” Whatever annoyance Winter felt melted away at the sight of Whitley pouting. She sauntered playfully to the edge of his bed and wiggled and finger in his face. “Are you lying to me? Your older sister Winnie? You’re lying to me?”

  Whitley broke eye contact. “Well...” The lump mewed and a furry white paw extended from out of the cover of the blanket. Winter raised a brow.

  “That looks suspiciously like a cat.” Winter crawled into his bed and uncovered the little creature. The cat loafed on Whitley’s lap, grooming the pristine white fur on around its pink paw beans. It looked to be a few years old. 

  “Isn’t it pretty?” Whitley caressed the cat’s back, having already moved on from the earlier argument. Winter tried to pat its head but the little critter swiftly dodged her palm and scampered to the edge of the bed and curled up, seemingly to sleep. Rude.

  There’s a more present matter at hand anyways.

  “Where did you find it?” Winter turned her attention back to her little brother.

  “Her”

  “What?”

  “It’s a she, Winnie! Look at her butt!” Winter politely declined the suggestion. She had no interest in inspecting the cat’s backside- she didn’t seem to like Winter anyways.

  “Well, where did you find her?” 

  “I didn’t find her! Mr. Hartley gave her to me”

  “The grounds keeper?”  Winter scoffed. “Why would he give you a cat?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why don’t you don’t believe me?” His eyes started to brim with tears and he grabbed Winters right hand with his own two smaller ones. “Father said we’re not allowed to bring animals in here but I didn’t know what to do! Mr. Hartley said he’s leaving but he can’t take her with him. I said I would keep her. But Father is going to yell at me if he finds out- I’m scared...” 

  Winter’s chest ached at the desperation in Whitley’s voice. This isn’t normal is it? For a child to be so terrified of their parent like this. When she was his age, she felt the same way- so scared and vulnerable. It was the end of the world to get negative attention from Father, and most of the time it seemed to be the only type of attention he gave. It almost seemed par for the course all those years ago. She didn’t know any better- it was just the norm.

  Looking at Whitley, petrified like she was- she could see the abuse from the outside. Almost as if she’s watching her own experiences and she’s chained to a front row seat. Except she didn’t have an older sibling to hold her hand and to share the pain with. To protect her. To defend her. Isn’t that what she always wanted in the worst days of the past? Couldn’t she be that now?

  Whitley couldn’t keep the cat. There was no amount of convincing that could make Father give in- it’s always been about his own ego, more than anything. But that doesn’t mean that Father has to know this cat was ever here in the first place. Atlas has plenty of animal shelters, and having a pet cat was in vogue now. She would convince Whitley to let Klein take the cat to the nearest one in the morning. Father would never know if they were discrete. 

  “Winnie...” Whitley’s bright blue eyes searched her face.

  Winter grabbed him under his arms, and with little struggle, sat him between her stretched out legs. She hugged him around the waist from behind and softly told him her plan. 

  “... do you want to do this with me?”

  Whitley sniffed. “I can’t keep her?”

  “Father won’t allow you to. We can make sure the kitty is safe and taken care of though... Klein will do this for us, I know it. You won’t get yelled at and you can tell her goodbye in the morning. Father will be none the wiser.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that he’ll never know.”

  Whitley was quiet for a few seconds before Winter felt him nod softly beneath her chin. “Can I sleep with her tonight?”

  Winter blinked. She forgot it was currently hours past Whitley’s bedtime. He must be half asleep.

  “Yes. Just make sure to keep her in your room, okay? I’ll leave a message for Klein to see in the morning. Don’t...” She paused. She noticed Whitley breath start to even out as he fell asleep against her.

  I suppose I’m going to be sleeping her tonight also. She needed to make sure that this all goes well. However, Winter couldn’t ignore the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Was she just getting Whitley used to this? Hiding secrets out of fear? Was she allowing Father to have his way in Whitley’s eyes? Getting Whitley accustomed to living under Father’s thumb? She was just trying to protect him. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of selfishness, that she was denying Whitley happiness for the sake of peace with their Father.

  Mom always told her to choose her battles carefully. 

  She couldn’t help but feel that if she chose all the wrong ones, she’ll end up hurting Whitley beyond repair.

[lizartgurl]

“Back To You” (Aqualad x OC)

Day One of Aqualad and Nightingale going into hiding. Things aren’t going very smooth. But what did either of them expect?

@staar-sailorr​ @betteonit​ @the-shadow-of-atlantis​ @lesbianstargirl​

This part goes out to Clark, for their kickarse playlist that fits the ship and the story perfectly. Listen to it on Spotify.

PART THREE.

(part one) (part two)

Wildcat gave them headphones and mic to be able to communicate on the flight, but no one really talked. Wildcat wasn’t exactly the chattiest of heroes, and even if they weren’t currently exes, Emma and Kaldur wouldn’t have wanted to have a conversation that excluded him.

They landed hours later, each one blurred to the next for Emma, and as the chopper lurched to the side, all three occupants wondered how they'd made it that far.

Ted hopped out first, dragging their luggage from the secure compartment. Kaldur went after him, and offered a hand to Emma to help her down.

As she wobbled between the choice to refuse or accept his help, she stumbled out of the helicopter and into his arms.

She felt her heart beat three times- pounding painfully against her ribcage, as she took him in. He wore a dark gray Star City University hoodie- one she knew for a fact was stolen from Roy- and a navy blue beanie, the one she bought him one Christmas after her attempt to learn knitting with M'gann had gone terribly wrong.

The skin around his eyes was pale, and his eyes were more gray than green, reminding her of a cloudy day where it wasn't  sunny and it wasn't rainy. Caught in the middle, unable to figure out how  the day should be spent. He didn't smell too bad, though, but the sea-salty scent she was so used to from him had faded.

Wildcat threw their bags at them, refusing to carry their crap for them. Emma shouldered her bag, embarrassed at being caught like that. But she couldn't help but wonder, what did Kaldur see when he looked at her?

“Alright, kids,” Ted’s voice made both of them snap to attention. He reminded Emma vaguely of stuck-up Captain Atom.

“This is the JSA’s only safe house, so if you blow this one up, you’ll be moving in with Doctor Midnite.” The had landed at the southernmost tip of Moose Factory Island, the helicopter was situated on the only bit of ground solid enough to hold it. To their left was the river that surrounded the island merging back into one. Directly ahead was a small wooden cabin, behind it was the beginning of a forest, which arced around to their right and behind the helicopter, blocking the rest of the island from view.

“What of Batman’s safehouses?” Emma heard Kaldur speak for the first time in months.

“Don’t know which ones Demon Head knows about. Wanted to stay on the safe side,” Ted grunted. He unlocked the peeling-paint-red door before dropping the key in Emma’s hand.

“No wifi, watch your electricity, the generator’s been running for forty years now.”

Emma’s hand fisted around the key in her pocket, the hair on her fingers tingling with static electricity. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

“This island is owned by the Cree tribe. The only reason we’re allowed here is because I’m on good terms with most all of them. Don’t ruin that. Batman told you about credit cards?”

Emma didn’t feel like talking, so she simply held up the envelope Bruce had given her.

“There’s a trading post in town on the other side of the woods. You can buy most everything there. ‘N they’ve a landline there too, but only in emergencies. You can send messages to your little sidekick friends through letters when Midnite stops by every month with your allowance. They’ll send you letters too, I’ll bet. Least Dinah will.”

He slapped his palm down on the vanilla-colored countertop. “Map to Midnite’s is in the fridge. Memorize it.”

Emma could sense Kaldur nodded just as she did.

Wildcat sighed looking between the two of them, trying to decide if it would be more or less awkward if he left.

“Well, that’s it. Tolerate each other, don’t burn the house down, and don’t get caught.”

He propped his hat- the one with the kitty ears- back on his balding head, and the slamming door behind him echoed emptily. Neither Emma nor Kaldur made a move until the whirring of chopper blades had faded away into the crisp, autumnal air.

She turned, and Kaldur was staring at her, mouth open as if he was going to say something. “Thank you” maybe? “I’m sorry for the past year”?

He thought better of it, dragging his duffel down the hall to the first available hall.

Grumbling under her breath, Emma shouldered her own bag and went off to find the other room that Dinah had promised would be there. If Black Canary had lied to her there would be very strong words spoken between them.

Emma found the other room soon enough, thank goodness. It was sparsely furnished, a safe house wasn’t supposed to be a vacation rental, after all, but the whole house seemed to have a plaid thing going on. The front sitting room was green with the kitchen as yellow and black, both having dark brown walls to match the house exterior. The room Emma had found for herself had solid red pillows, with a red plaid comforter and a single dark brown dresser, and a white closet to match the walls and the bathroom. Emma was willing to bet that Kaldur’s room was exactly the same, only in blue. It was simple, but comfortable. She almost felt at home, if the room didn’t feel claustrophobic compared to her suite at the manor. She really needed to shed her privilege more often.

The clothes that she’d packed filled about two of the drawers, so she spread them out to make them feel of more use. She hung up the one dress and a couple of her nicer shoes, and shoved the duffel into the shelf above. She stacked her books on the shelves and paused to see Brandon Sanderson’s “Elantris”,her immediate thought being that Kaldur might like to read it.

After she did, of course. Bruce said that there was a bookshelf stocked full for electric-free fun, and although Kaldur was dyslexic, he was quite an avid reader. He’d be well occupied before Emma should take it upon herself to keep him entertained.

It wasn’t her job to keep him entertained anyway, she was there to keep him safe. Nothing more, nothing less, and she’d been guilted into that anyway.

She let herself fall face-first into the thick comforter, wishing for Justice or something to cuddle.

Her eyes fell on something bright red- brighter than the dull tones of the cabin decor. An article of clothing having fallen from her bag?

She picked it up, staring at it with disdain. It was the plush dragon that Kaldur he won her at the Happy Harbor Festival. Well, technically, he’d won her a bright green plush, with yellow wings instead of purple, to match her own, but that was lost in the chaos when the Terror Twins became more than a little ticked off at the fact that they were not allowed to enter fair grounds. The double date Emma and Kaldur had been on with M’gann and Conner was disrupted, and in the aftermath of the fight, the boothkeeper offered them his one surviving plush as a thank you for saving the rest of the festival (and keeping the Terror Twins from stealing all his sketchily-earned cash).

After Kaldur was discovered to be working with Black Manta, recently revealed to be his birth father, Emma had to admit she went a little berserk in her reaction. All his messages deleted from her phone. His letters and little gifts boxed up and given to Alfred to “get rid of them”, though if he actually did so remained a mystery. After Malina Island, she even went into his former room in Mount Justice- the first to do so in months- and eviscerated one of his pillows with her lightning. At the time, it made her feel better, but it didn’t make her less mad, and the cave smelled like burnt cotton for weeks. Until Kaldur blew it up anyway.

Out of everything, Emma rationalized keeping the dragon. It wasn’t the one Kaldur had given her, though she always felt it was meant to replace the one she lost, and she did love dragons, even if the green and yellow one had been prettier.

Emma felt her heart beat distinctly, and she held the dragon close, curled up on top of the covers.

“Thanks, Tim,” she whispered.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, back stiff, eyes red, mind numb, door open.

The next thing she knew, she smelled cookies.

Not just any cookies, Miss Martian’s cookies. Chocolate chip. Freshly baked. With extra cinnamon.

She sat up, but before she went to investigate, she hid the dragon beneath the pillows, between the mattress and the wall.

Kaldur was in the kitchen, alone, pulling a cookie sheet out of the oven, and sliding the cookies off to cool on a plate on the table with the others.

Emma stood there, just staring at the cookies for a moment, before Kaldur spotted her.

“Would you like some?”

It was the first time they had spoken directly to each other since...the summit. Three months ago.

“Yeah,” She was embarrassed that was all she could bring herself to say. No “sorry for threatening to kill you if you touched a hair on Mara, Tim, or Gar’s head,” or “I’m sorry for freaking out and being so willing to believe that you’d actually side with Manta over us.”

She shoved a cookie in her mouth to keep from embarrassing herself further. It appeared Kaldur had the same idea, but then they both started choking.

Kaldur immediately procured two glasses of water.

“It appears that I used too much cinnamon,” He lamented.

“Well, that, and I kind of forced mine down my throat,” Emma admitted sheepishly.

“”As did I,” Kaldur’s attempted to smile made Emma giggle. Just a little bit.

“Did...did M’gann teach you to make these?”

Kaldur nodded. “I have had plenty of free time as of late, while there are no missions to assign.”

Emma nodded. “Well, if we aren’t totally alienated from cinnamon at the moment, I think I still have a couple of Alfred’s cinnamon rolls, and then some potato casserole for dinner that we can heat up.”

“That sounds delicious, just let me clean up.” Kaldur placed the cover on the spicy cookies, and went about brushing the spare ingredients off the counter and into the small trash bin.

Emma bit her lip. “Need any help?”

“No, thank you. I can handle it.” Kaldur assured her.

“Alright,” Emma whispered under her breath.

She only hoped that Bruce and Aquaman could bring in those threatening Kaldur sooner. If today was any indicator, the coming weeks, maybe months, were going to be terribly painful for both of them.

[thecrazydragonlady]

“Shall We Dance?” Chapter 18

Author’s Notes: Two things: 1. I didn't skip a day like I thought I would and 2. I so totally wasted my DBZ voice (A joke on AO3)! I am so sorry. Sunshine son appeared and was like "lol this chapter ain't happenin' the way you wanted it to."

Current mood: Upset with Sunshine son.

Enjoy!

Chapter 18

Alya squealed so loudly that Marinette had to yank the phone away from her ear as quickly as possible. “GIRL! OH MY GOSH! CONGRATS! YOU DID IT! YOU FINALLY DID IT!”

The half-Asian girl smiled, bringing the phone back to herself when her friend’s excitement died enough to be tolerable. Mari could feel her vibrating through the phone. It prompted her to roll her eyes as she inserted the needle into the skirt and pulled.

“I didn’t do anything,” she informed her, “That was all pretty much Adrien’s doing. He’s the one who asked me out.”

“Yeah but it took you finally getting the courage to flirt with him to get him to do it.”

“W-when did I ever flirt?” She finished the line and cut the thread, sitting the finished second layer down on her desk. Tikki sat watching her. Mari shrugged her shoulders and made a face at the phone which prompted a giggle from the little red kwami.

“How about every single week since this ball thing was announced? The date….”

“That you tricked me on.”

“The dancing….”

“That he volunteered for without my prompting.”

“All last week….”

“No one flirted! We were having a tiny bit of a crisis.”

“Monday….”

“He wasn’t there Monday or Tuesday for me to flirt with.”

“Fine. Then how about all today when you dressed like Chat Noir, stood up to Chloé, wore your hair differently, made puns, and confessed your feelings for him?” Mari flinched. Maybe she shouldn’t have spilled the beans about everything that had transpired that afternoon (save for the transforming, akuma fighting, and intense make-out session afterwards and the fact that she hadn’t technically confessed her feelings to him).

“O-okay so I flirted today but today was the only time I did.” Alya snickered on the other side.

“Right and I’m the Queen of Sheba. So what are you going to wear? Has he told you where you’ll be going yet? Come on girl, I want the deets!”

Marinette chuckled and stood up, moving to go stand on her balcony. “Look, as soon as I know something, I’ll be sure to tell you. Until then, we’ll both be left in the dark which is what I think he wants. I think he’s been planning a date for some time now.”

“Then your outfit is going to have to be extra special.” There was the sound of something crashing in the background and a rather loud cry which prompted Alya to sigh. “Look, the monkeys are at it again. I have to go but if he contacts you tonight, text me! Love ya! Bye!”

“Love you too and bye,” she said, disconnecting the phone. Winter was finally beginning to take a hold over the city and she shivered in it, her breath appearing in tiny white clouds before disappearing into nothing. She reached for the old blanket she kept there for special occasions and nights like this. It nearly drowned her with its size. Being warm though gave her no complaint as she leaned on her railing. Across the roof tops, the glow of the city rose up, giving it an eerie, mystical tone that she sighed in wonder of; if Tikki wasn’t so tired from the earlier akuma, she would be half tempted to do an impromptu patrol (if only to swing by the Agreste manor and say hello to a certain boy).

Speaking of a certain boy…. Marinette squinted in to the darkness, certain that there was something moving along the rooftops. It was sprinting. She kept her eyes on it, afraid it was an akuma, but relaxed as he got closer, revealing himself to be Chat Noir, jumping and dodging over and around the rooftops of Paris. She waved him down once he was close enough. Without any hesitation, he jumped, landing perfectly on her balcony. Marinette smirked at him. “Why Chat Noir! What an unexpected pleasure.”

“Good evening purrincess,” he purred. Marinette stifled a giggle. Chat took a breath and said, “Plagg, claws in,” releasing his transformation in a glow of green. Plagg grumbled something about being abused before he flew past Marinette with a soft “Evenin’.” He entered the hatch to her room to snuggle Tikki. He smirked at her before nearly skipping to her side, wrapping her in a hug, and kissing the top of her head but on the blanket instead of hair.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t we just see each other a couple of hours ago?” Adrien smirked and laid his cheek on the top of her head.

“Yes but I really wanted to see you again.” She paused. Something in his voice didn’t sound right. She pulled back out of his embrace; instead of looking upset, he continued to smile at her but it was an empty smile- it certainly did not reach his eyes. The look tugged at her heart. Marinette bit her lip. Without warning, she opened her arms as wide as they could go with the blanket, wrapping him in the tightest hug she could, and effectively having them both swallowed by the cloth. He chuckled at the motion but wrapped his arms around her again to make them more comfortable.

“What’s wrong?” He sighed.

“I should’ve known better than to hide it from you uh?”

“You got that right. So… spill.” He looked at her sheepishly.

“It’s just…,” he sighed again, “It’s just that… well, I’m going to be gone again for the rest of this week and into next week.”

Her face paled. She blinked up at him, a small gasp on her lips. She swallowed hard and hugged him tighter. “A job?” He nodded.

“In Italy. Father wants me there personally.”

“So that means….”

“It means I won’t get to take you on that date after all. Not before the ball at least.” She swallowed.

“I will wait forever if needed,” she whispered, “but Ladybug… Ladybug’s going to have to fight alone.” He nodded solemnly.

“I know. I didn’t want to have to think about it but… I can’t get out of it. Nathalie’s tried talking to him but he won’t back out of it.” She nodded and pulled away from him. The space she’d occupied suddenly was very cold and he shivered in response; she didn’t notice though as she started pacing back and forth on her balcony.

“We’re going to have to do something,” she contemplated, “Hawkmoth can’t get any idea that you’re Chat Noir and it’ll be too much of a coincidence for you and him to up and vanish at the same time. I’ll be alright since I’m the stronger fighter out of the two of us….”

“Hey,” he pouted.

“… and I can do the purifying. If he comes after you….” She spun, her eyes blazing with fire. He instinctively leaned away. “If he comes after you, you might be able to stop the akuma but you won’t have the ability to purify it or contain it until I get there. We have to come up with an excuse for Chat Noir to be away.”

“Why don’t we tell them I’m sick and I’m at home recouping?”

“That could work. I’m sure Mrs. Chamack probably wouldn’t mind posting a special bulletin on the news especially if Ladybug asks her too; after all, she did say she wanted to help us after we saved Manon.”

“What about the Ladyblog?”

Marinette paused. “Alya would certainly help.” She sighed and threw the blanket off. Heading for the trap door, she motioned for him to wait there as she leaned in and called for Tikki. The little red kwami flew up to join her, followed closely by Plagg. “Sorry to bother you two but….”

“I know,” Tikki chirped. “Plagg filled me in downstairs. I’m guessing you have a plan?” She nodded and quickly explained that, unfortunately, Ladybug was going to have to make an impromptu visit to Mrs. Chamack and Alya’s residences if only to get the news out as quickly as possible. Tikki nodded. “I’m good to go now. As long as we don’t stay out too long, I should be fine.” She nodded and smirked at Adrien.

“You better go home then. This isn’t going to work if half of Paris sees the missing party in question jumping around rooftops when he’s supposed to be laid up in bed.” He nodded as well. Before calling on his transformation, Adrien gently grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. He leaned down enough to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I knew you’d figure this out,” he whispered, pulling back, “I was at home stressing about it for nearly two hours and you figured it out in a minute.” She smirked and playfully poked his nose.

“Of course I did. Now scat cat.” He chuckled and started to leave. This time, it was she who quickly caught his hand and spun him around for one final kiss.

Why are we not official again? Adrien mused. When they pulled apart, her smirk was bigger than ever. “Good night kitty. Get well soon.”

“Because you wish it, so it shall be my lady.” He stroked her cheek before tucking a piece of loose hair behind her ear. “I promise Mari. I’m going to make this the best and fastest photoshoot I’ve ever done. I’ll come back to you soon.”

“Don’t actually make yourself sick in the process. Take all the time you need you silly cat.”

“Alright, I’ll be careful. Good night princess.” He turned again, calling out “Plagg, claws out!” and was gone in a single leap from her railing. Marinette waited until he was out of sight before transforming as well and heading in the opposite direction- straight towards Alya’s home.

Note to self: Update master post.

... I told ya I’d forget.

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