#ch: nolan

[cautiously0ptimistic]

Try to hide it more than I do, but you feel it, too.

[sedativeunderskins]

text || cassandra

nolan: hey...are you doing okay? its been a long time...

nolan: did i do something?

[hanasnx]

found out christian bale was 210lbs for the dark knight rises and my face twisted. like eyebrows upturned and everything.

[lottmatthews]

a relationship study of nolan reid and lucia rossi.

[dogwittaablog]

didn’t nolan unf him as soon as he got traded in 2021 😭 he’s been on the hater grind

Hahahahahah yeah he did 😌

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 9

Ch9 is here and with it everything is set in motion! The bomb is ticking- Ch 10 is done and ch 11 is in the works, uhhh a lot of characters are about to make an appeareance along the way-

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 9 >>next

The Grayson household was having dinner like every night, the table filled with enough food to fill everyone, the kids on one side of the table and the adults on the other. “So- guess who’s finally getting his powers?” Mark started softly once the conversation quieted down, quickly getting met with a smile and praise from you and Debbie, neither noticing Nolan’s suspicious glare laced with worry.

“Are you sure?” The praise stopped as soon as Nolan’s voice was heard. Your foot immediately met his shin, making him look at you with surprise as you glared angrily at the man. “Dude-“ you almost hissed. “Don’t be like that. You know Mark wouldn’t lie about this, not when you put enough pressure on him as is.” The slight jab at his tough parenting made Nolan clear his throat and give a soft apology to his son.

Mark gives the man a small smile as he shrugs. “I mean- I did throw a trash bag into space at work.” The boy’s confirmation was met with a happily surprised look from Nolan, your eyes narrowing with suspicion at the older man’s customer service smile, after which he offered the young man to join their training sessions from tomorrow on.

All in all, Mark felt quite great! He could finally join his sister and father in their “saving the world” adventures, he could follow in Nolan’s steps. Finally be the protector of Earth alongside his family. He’s gonna be able to fly. He was finally going to be able to fly!

He went out onto the roof and knocked on his sister’s window. He wasn’t going to do this alone, what if he was the odd one out and couldn’t fly and fell and cracked his head open? Nuh-uh.

“Don’t look down, you’ll only scare yourself.” You warned Mark, your brother quickly shushing you as he muttered to himself. “Dad always said it was like a reflex, so if I don't want to fall, I won't, and even if I do, maybe it won't even hurt-“

“And Superman said it’s a leap of faith, so leap.” You interrupted his worried mutters, your hair flying around you as you lifted off the roof, ignoring his beg for you to be on the ground below just in case. “Don’t think about it, Mark. I believe in you.”

Mark’s tense muscles relaxed as he looked at his sister’s reassuring eyes. He didn’t look away as he stepped back until his back hit the wall and he didn’t look away as he started running, taking a leap and flying right to you.  You both laughed with glee at his success, you almost snorting as he started rolling like a ball and stopping upside down.

“Well. I guess we’ll have to work on you keeping upright.” You couldn’t help teasing him. “Shut up! I can do that-“ Your dear brother whined as he wiggled a bit in the air before he figured out how to turn. “See? It’s not that ha-auch!” Mark winced when he hit a tree branch while he unknowingly drifted as he talked, making you snicker.

His speed was good, and his landing needed work, but you weren’t one to talk. You almost crashed through a building on your first few landings. By morning Mark barely got an hour of sleep but with a whole pot of coffee, he was as good as new. Until he crashed again. “I guess that still counts as a landing.” Nolan sighs and tells Mark to get back up. “And it was in the middle of nowhere- so points for no civilian casualties?” you mutter as you cross your arms, one hand covering your mouth. “…That looked like it hurt.”

The man cleared his throat. “How about a bit of insight on how to interrogate?” You tried to argue against it, but Mark insisted he was fine, pushing to continue training. “Well…” You sigh before a mischievous smirk takes form on your mug. “I think I know just the guy for it.”

You three watch as the clown’s laughing turns into worried yelling for help, you and Nolan smiling while Mark just looks worried. “Shouldn’t we catch him?” You just waved him off. “Nah, the bastard is a rapist, abuser, and kid killer, let him suffer a bit.” The men look at each other before they look at you. “Rock, paper, scissors for who gets to throw him into space?” Nolan asks.

“You're really going to keep the shirt?” Mark asks as he looks at the fabric clenched into your hand. “Yep. I’m entitled to it. Won the game square and fair. And- I’m going to cross out Jason Todd and add The Joker so it’ll say, ‘I killed the Joker and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’. It’ll be fun.” Mark just shrugged, brushing it off as a Gothamite thing. “It’s fair and square.” His correction was met with you flipping him off.

While Nolan decided to teach Mark how to throw a good punch you went off for a bit, busy helping a kid get her cat from a tree. It was surprisingly common, too common for your liking- but you didn’t have it in you to ignore it. By the time you came back, Mark was gasping for air as Nolan was apologizing g. “Mark… If you really want to do what I do, what your sister does, you have to be prepared for anything. No one is gonna pull their punches.”

“Nolan.” You hissed at him as you stormed closer, helping your brother sit up. “I know you have expectations of him, of your son, a true Viltrumite or whatever- but you can’t just start hammering into him at full strength! It took time with me to develop my full strength and immunity, it will take time with him too.” The older man looked like a sad puppy as you berated him, but he nodded and apologized again, unable to argue with you. It was hard to get rid of the way he was raised, though, if push came to shove he knew who he’d stand by.

Debbie had a similar thought about her husband’s actions. Nolan was pushing too hard and at his outburst, you knew that he also felt the same. You decided to give Mark some space, he’ll come to you on his own. Nobody wanted to hear their father say that he’d rather you not have powers.

The next morning instead of flying Mark to school, you flew with him, greeting William and leaving with a hug to both boys and a goodbye. College was a bitch, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was nice to see all these passionate people.

Your mind, however, was still stuck on Nolan. He was acting weird since your brother got his powers, paranoid or skittish. The man was… peculiar. Not quite Wayne or Luthor's level of hiding secrets but you could tell he was never telling the full story, the Viltrumites seemed too good to be true. As you walked out of school, ready to get home and out for some work, a message made you change directions.

Hiding in the shadows, melting into them, was easy for you, natural even. So, when the two figures finally walked by you, you were quick to pounce, climbing onto Nolan’s shoulders while pushing Mark lightly, the younger man screaming at the sudden touch, swinging blindly behind him, only stopping when the lights came on and you giggled.

Your brother’s face flushed as he glared at you and Nolan’s smiling face. “You’ll get used to that. And you-” The man said while flicking one of your ears gently, making you whine. “Don’t scare your brother like that.” His tone was too light for you to take that as a serious warning so you just childishly booed.

The introduction to Art was quick, the best, and seemingly the only hero costume maker in Chicago. He also made your prom dress, which you loved, but this was… a questionable suit. “Forget the orange and yellow- What are those disks all over?” You asked. The old man just shrugged. “They’re solar-powered batteries. I designed that costume back when I was under the impression your dad’s powers were solar power based. Like that Krypton alien.”

“It’s a common mistake, don’t worry about it. Though, I think I’m a better hero than him.” Nolan couldn’t help but preen, trying to show off in front of his kids. It only resulted in you snickering. “I don’t know dad. He can shoot lasers from his eyes.” The father just huffed. “You’re biased, you have a crush on the man.”

The accusation made you stutter, face flushing at the thought. “I do not! Besides, he has kids around our age!” You huffed. “She’s right.” Mark shrugged. “Thank you-“ Your thanks were quick-lived as your brother continued. “Her daddy issues lie in bad boys, like that lead singer from Mucous Membrane.”

“Whose side are you on?!” You scoffed at Mark’s teasing, making the boy shrug. “The winning side.” Nolan only smiled at the interaction. “You do like the older people-“ you opened your mouth to comment but Nolan interrupted. “Like War Woman, Wonder Woman, Immortal, Brit, you mentioned that Slade mercenary once-“

You could only cover your face as he continued naming heroes and mercenaries, even some rich folk you’ve been working with, mortification slowly making you shake. “Shut up- please- just shut up- if I knew that this is what having an actual dad and sibling was like, I would have run away. This is treason- this is- I just mentioned these people once!”

"You did doodle War Woman and Wonder Woman once and put hearts around- ack!" Mark didn't get to finish as your hands grasped around the base of his neck tight enough for him to feel but not enough to do damage, and shook him back and forth. "Shut it, you little snitch!" The male specimens in the room only laughed at your misery.

As the men talked about Mark’s idea for a costume, you were sulking in the darkest corner of the room, the shadows were filled with amusement, chirping with happiness as they tried to lighten you up. “You want a symbol. That’s good. Have you thought of a name? It helps. Darkwing has dark wings, the Red Rush is a red rush when he runs by you. Your sister, The Sorceress, seems to have a new power every month like she’s magical.”

“I made her suit the darkest green I could find with bright green and gold accents to nod to the color of her powers and the average magical color that so many mages seem to have. The hood is a nod to the stereotypical witch cloak but the body was inspired by the viltrumite outfit your dad wore when he first came to earth. Small details for someone who has quite the bag of tricks, but when people see her, they know who it is. You get it? You give me something to go on, I'll strive for iconic. Think about it and get back to me.” Art reassured the boy.

The shadows hummed with a sensation of happiness and love as your hero's name was mentioned, after all, they’re quite proud that you chose their pick, Omni-girl was such a “follow into my footsteps” dad thing for Nolan to try and push onto you, they always judged him for that.

After the whole “find your identity” fiasco, Mark had to go do his homework, leaving you and Nolan alone quite a distance from anyone else who may be trying to listen in. As the man turned to face his daughter, she was already facing him, your eyes locked on him.

“Look- I don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to fix it.” When he opened his mouth, you immediately hushed him. “Let me finish. You’re being weird. I can’t tell if you’re paranoid or if you’re scared about something, but I know you trained me amazingly- whatever that was with Mark was sloppy- like you wanted to test him instead of teach.”

“I’m neither. Mark and I are Viltrumites; it’s our job to be the best of the best so we can- so we can help others-“ Your eyes narrowed and your lip curled at his stutter. He was slipping. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I told you before that I don’t believe that stuff about you Viltrumites being goody two shoes who only want the best for others. I’ve seen what other humans and aliens could do in the name of good. For all I and everyone else know, your race could be a long line of conquerors who kill those who refuse to bend.”

“Don’t-“ You interrupted him again when he tried to speak up once more. “I don’t care about that. Your past is whatever to me because you’ve helped so far. But you seriously need to think long and hard about where your loyalty lies. Debbie loves you, Mark loves you, Art believes you are a great friend, I-“ You can’t help the shaking in your hands as you give his chest, where his heart would be, a soft punch, barely making him grunt. “I love you, dad. Don’t fuck that up. Don’t make me regret that.” Pulling away from him you decide to give him some space to dwell on it. “I’ll tell Debbie you’ll be late.”

Tonight, you fell asleep to the thuds of Mark trying to perfect his landings, the only thing that made you shoot upright in your bed was a deep, gut feeling. “Someone’s being rude to mama.”  You slur, groggy with sleep as you get out of bed and crawl out the window, your hair a mess as you look over the roof down at Mark and Debbie. “Stop being mean to ma, Mark!” Your yell makes the two flinch, Debbie laughing at the sight of you half asleep glaring at your big brother. “I apologized! And she made me realize what my hero name is going to be! It’s-“

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26

The title card is a one off joke- I can't do it every chapter :)))

[gcldenhcurs]

"I'm sorry!" Nolan spat back at Peyton, annoyed with the third degree he was getting from her, "I'm single, you're single, remember? That's what you wanted. So I slept with her." People called them crazy for trying to be friends after they ended things. Maybe they were right.

''you're not my friend ... not anymore. i don't know what's gotten to us, but i can't forgive you for this.'' / @gcldenhcurs

[kmomof4]

A Wedding to Remember Ch. 8 A Wedding to Remember

We are back with the final chapter!!! Yes, everything is resolved, just like I promised, and happy endings abound!! I so hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!!

Once again, thank you @snowbellewells for the lovely artwork above and your most excellent beta skills!!

Summary: Killian Jones, younger brother to the viscount, is home from Cambridge and ready to enter society, including finding himself a wife. Perhaps he may find his future bride here, at a week long house party his sister-in-law is hosting at the Jones country estate before the London season officially begins.

Rating: M (smut)

Words: Almost 1700 of approximately 16k

Tags: Bridgerton Inspired Fic, Matchmaking, Regency Romance

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Chapter

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells  @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic

@elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

@suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love 

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Ch. 8 A Wedding to Remember

“Get up, little brother!” Liam exclaimed, bursting into his chamber. 

“Younger brother,” Killian grumbled in response, turning his head into his pillow as Liam crossed the room and threw open the drapes. As soon as he’d done at the windows, he strode to the bed and pulled the covers off him, making Killian huff in displeasure and try to grab the bedclothes in order to cover himself again. He’d barely left the bed in the last week and a half, and if he had anything to say about it, he wasn’t going to leave it now.

Unfortunately, Liam was incredibly stubborn, and as head of the household, he didn’t appear inclined to allow Killian to sulk any longer. 

When they’d arrived back at Jones House in London after the nuptials of Lord and the now Lady Nolan, Killian had sequestered himself in his chambers and hadn’t left them since.

Yes, he’d seen Emma and Lord Cassidy at the festivities, and it was clear beyond any doubt that her betrothed was his old school mate. He tried his best to attend to the proceedings, but was painfully aware of Emma at all times. As sister to the groom, Emma sat near the front of the abbey, with Killian several rows behind her. He could see nothing in terms of affection from either Emma or Cassidy, and when they adjourned to David’s London home for the wedding breakfast, Killian could hardly tear his attention away from the betrothed couple. He didn’t dare approach them. It was doubtful his heart would be able to stand being in her presence as nothing more than an acquaintance. He loved her too much to risk revealing anything by simple proximity. After observing them throughout the morning, Killian was more certain than ever that Emma had no emotional connection to Lord Cassidy. Nothing but a sheet of paper that she’d had no say in nor hand in drafting. 

And he was also certain that Neal’s… tastes… had not changed either.

That was why he’d been stunned nearly speechless by Emma’s revelation of her fiancé. Earl Neal Cassidy held no affection, or desire, for women. His appetites leaned toward the masculine sex. Perhaps that was why his father had arranged the wedding with Emma’s uncle so long ago. To ensure the continuation of his line.

But either way, the betrothal contract was in force and the only people with the power to break it were Lord Gold or David.

David’s wedding day was certainly not the time to inform him of Cassidy’s proclivities - as much as he would have liked to. He would at the same time have also sought David’s blessing to seek Emma’s hand himself, but was unfortunately woefully short of time and opportunity.  Then after the wedding, David was on his brief honeymoon trip and would be returning only for Emma and Cassidy’s wedding celebration. 

Which was today.

Which was why Liam was forcing him out of bed.

“Get up, younger brother and get dressed,” Liam continued. “You are going to the wedding, if I have to drag you kicking and screaming.”

Killian sat up and glared as hard as he could at his brother. Liam stared right back, his arms crossed over his chest, firm and unyielding.

“You know nothing, brother,” Killian groused, grabbing the covers again and lying back down under them. He’d barely gotten settled when they were yanked away from him yet again.

“I know more than you think,” Liam retorted. “And you are going. I will cut your allowance by two thirds for the remainder of the season if you do not.”

That got Killian’s attention. He bolted upright in shock. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” he replied coolly. 

The glaring standoff between the brothers lasted less than a minute. Grumbling under his breath, Killian swung his legs out of bed. Liam smirked and began walking toward his chamber door.

“Remember, Killian…” As he grasped the doorknob, Liam’s smirk disappeared to be replaced by a deep love and pride. In him. Killian stilled and looked him in the eye, waiting to hear whatever his brother wanted to say to him. “A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast.”

And with that, Viscount Liam Jones left Killian alone.

~*~*~

“Is there any cause why this man and woman should not be joined in Holy Matrimony?” the priest asked.

Killian gulped hard and took a deep breath before rising to his feet. It took a few moments, but soon every eye in the abbey turned to him. Liam and Elsa and his mother looked at him with pride and support. The priest and Emma looked at him with shock. Neal turned to him with surprise that turned to recognition then apprehension. David and Mary Margaret looked at him with hopeful anticipation.

He’d spoken with David before the ceremony began and knew that he had their full support for what he planned to do.

“Yes,” he said, loud enough that everyone could hear him. Emma gasped, her eyes widening as he focused all his attention on her. “They shouldn’t be joined together because she loves me.” He left his seat and approached the front of the abbey where Emma, Neal, and the priest stood. At the bottom of the dias, Killian stopped. “And I love her.”

Gasps and whispers could be heard throughout the abbey, but Killian paid them no mind. He climbed the steps and knelt before Emma. Her gorgeous green eyes were filled with tears, but he wouldn’t be deterred. He pulled the ring he carried out of his pocket and held it up between them. It was a family heirloom with a dark red ruby in the center of the gold filigree, with four small diamonds at the corners. 

“I love you, Emma. Marry me. Marry me. Please,” he implored.

Emma couldn’t speak for a moment at the audacious display before her. She’d last seen Killian when they’d left Jones Hall for London, and now here he was kneeling before her, asking for her hand in marriage. Stunned surprise didn’t begin to describe the turmoil buffeting her heart and mind. 

She looked out at David and Mary Margaret. Their beaming smiles had nothing to do with their own personal happiness, and everything to do with what was happening on the dias. David had told her before escorting her down the aisle that he wouldn’t force her into this marriage if she didn’t want it. Earl Gold had passed over the weekend and so technically, the contract drawn up between him and her uncle was void. Emma had told him it was too late to stop it, and she was still willing to go through with it. She’d kept her love for Killian to herself, and unless she could have him, she wasn’t going to be the target of the mean-spirited gossip of the ton. She’d thought it rather odd when David had nodded in acceptance of her words, but he must have known of Killian’s plan and expected her to accept his proposal.

She looked at Neal. He shrugged as if it made no difference to him. She knew he had the same amount of affection for her as she had for him - that is, none whatsoever. She looked back down into the face of her love and clearly saw the truth of his words. 

He loved her. He loved her. Not anyone else.

The gathered tears began to fall as she nodded her acceptance of his proposal. Killian rose to his feet, joy suffusing his face, and gathered her into his arms. His lips captured hers in front of God, the priest, and the whole congregation, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to care one whit.

The man she loved loved her and had asked her to marry him. Long moments later, the kiss ended, but he still held her close, his nose running alongside hers.

A clearing throat behind him caught his attention. He’d nearly forgotten where he was and who stood around him as he declared his love for Emma for all the world to see. Turning slightly, he saw Neal standing there, profound relief written all over his face. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For saving me from this marriage, and keeping my secret.”

Killian nodded. Then Neal turned to the congregation.

“I propose that since we’re all here for a wedding, and since Emma and Killian have declared their love and announced their intentions, that they get married instead.” He then turned to the priest. “Is that acceptable?”

Emma and Killian couldn’t have been more surprised, but as they looked at one another, smiles bloomed on both of their faces as they nodded their agreement. The priest agreed as well, and Neal took his seat next to David as the ceremony continued between Killian Jones and Miss Emma Nolan.

Once their vows were spoken, and they were declared husband and wife, Killian kissed his bride, dipping her down as his lips met hers in a passionate reunion. Cheers from the congregation filled their ears when they finally parted.

“I love you, Mrs. Jones.”

“I love you, too, Mr. Jones.”

Killian ran his nose along the side of Emma’s again and then placed a gentle kiss on the tip before they turned to face the guests. Their families were the first to greet them, with affectionate hugs and joyful tears all around.

As they accepted the warm wishes of their friends and family, Killian took a moment to reflect on the last few weeks. He’d hoped when he arrived at Jones Hall that he’d find his True Love sometime this season, but he never would have believed the twists and turns, the trials and tribulations he’d face to find her. Catching David’s eye, and taking in his and Mary Margaret’s beaming countenances, he couldn’t be more grateful for the woman now on his arm, his Emma, looking at him with the same love and devotion that filled his very soul. 

All of their hearts had found a home and were exactly where they needed to be. Now their happy beginning could truly commence.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! And for coming along on this journey with me! I so hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think!

[cautiously0ptimistic]

And we go beyond the farthest reaches, where the light bends and wraps beneath us. And I know, as you collapse into me, this is the start of something.

[sedativeunderskins]

now go all the way // 'til you've reached the point of no return // all the way without a trace of doubt inside your mind // wide open skies breathing life into you // let the fire in your eyes reignite mine too // and with the wind at your back you're bound to find // all the wonders of this life // wide open skies breathing life into you

[myfearless-love]

Too Well Tangled (Chapter 21/21 - "Untangling the Last Knot")

Chapters: 21/21 — "Untangling the Last Knot"

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Relationship: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Characters: Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Arthur (Once Upon a Time), Knave of Hearts | Will Scarlet, Robin Hood (Once Upon a Time), Mad Hatter | Jefferson

Additional Tags: Captain Swan - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Enemies to Lovers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BAMF Emma Swan, Angst and Romance, Banter

Summary: Determined and tough-minded Emma Nolan is on a singular mission: to rescue her dim-witted brother from the clutches of Killian Jones, the infamously rakish Marquess of Hookstone. Little did she anticipate her own burgeoning desire for the audacious, unscrupulous scoundrel she intended to despise. Killian Jones, the enigmatic Marquess of Hookstone, has more than earned his sinister sobriquet, the "Prince of Darkness." His past, a stormy mosaic of rejection and rebellion, has forged a man both feared and revered. Yet, the indomitable Miss Nolan proves an unexpectedly formidable opponent for his infamous charm. But when Killian's reciprocated passion lands them in a scandalously compromising, and very public, predicament, Emma is left with no recourse but to demand satisfaction...

Previous chapters: ch. 1 II ch. 2 II ch. 3 II ch. 4 II ch. 5 II ch. 6 II ch. 7 II ch. 8 II ch. 9 II ch. 10 II ch. 11 II ch.12 II ch. 13 II ch. 14 II ch.15 II ch. 16 II ch. 17 II ch. 18 II ch. 19 II ch. 20

READ HERE: AO3

Preview:

BIG shout out to my amazing beta @xarandomdreamx for always catching my mistakes and leaving me smiling with her comments!!❤️

Tagging some folks who might be interested:

@anmylica @elfiola @zaharadessert @gingerchangeling @undercaffinatednightmare

@jrob64 @teamhook @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @mie779

@winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @stahlop @rylieblu @ultraluckycatnd

@eddisfargo @booksteaandtoomuchtv @laianely @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke

@beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @captainswan-kellie @veryverynotgoodwrites @lfh1226-linda

@snowbellewells @caught-in-the-filter @shady-swan-jones @bluewildcatfanatic @fairytalepetzkle

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

[elizabethhood]

Lady Gotham by Elizabeth_Hood

Fandoms:Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), The Batman (Movie 2022), DCU, DCU (Comics)  

Teen And Up Audiences

No Archive Warnings Apply

Gen

Work in Progress

Tags

No Archive Warnings Apply

Batfamily Members & Gotham City

Gotham City

Bruce Wayne

Gotham City Residents

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Tim Drake (DCU)

Cassandra Cain

Damian Wayne

Weird Gotham City

Sentient Gotham City

Physical Manifestation of Gotham City

Tags May Change

Summary

Gotham is more than a city. Ch. 1 is the Batfam Ch. 2 is a drawing I did (not a very good one) Ch. 3 will be ships and teams   Read a fic a while back (read three or four years ago) where physical manifestations of each city showed up. Please help me find it so I can give credit for the inspiration.

Made a fic? More like a drabble, to go with my drawing.

[cauldronblssd]

To a Buried and a Burning Flame

Ch 1/2 | Read on AO3

A special gift for @bonecarversbestie! I hope you love it. I had so much fun getting to know you via your answers to my questions and creating something special for you. Thank you for all the fun and joy you bring to our corner of the internet year round.

Also thank you to @climbthemountain2020 for being my beta and @popjunkie42 for yelling at me to write as needed.

Elain hated the smell of Autumn Whiskey. And firewood. And damn. Okay, the cinnamon smelled good. As a newly avid baker, she couldn’t deny that sweet and spicy cinnamon scent smelled delicious. Feyre always encouraged her to try to trust and rely on her new fae senses. Instead, Elain took the barest whisper of a breath, focusing on inhaling through her mouth so she could block out that scent.

Across from her, sumptuous lips downturned into a subtle frown for the briefest moment before correcting into a casual, amiable smile. Her heart skipped a beat in answer, and she knew he noticed that too. Damn it. He looked beautiful, too. 

Firelight danced around Lucien, as if drawn to him. The gleaming orange and reds of his hair cascaded down his back, blending with the rich silk of his maroon jacket. It was too fine for the occasion, subtle threads of gold interwoven in the fabric, creating an eye-catching material that only highlighted his ethereal, imminently fae appearance. The glimmer of gold dangled from his ear, gently swaying with his movements. 

A low rumble emanated from him as he chuckled at some quip from Rhys.

Elain began to feel dizzy from low shallow breaths, her heart fluttering as it fought to beat in time with Lucien’s. She forced her mind inward, as if she could force her heart to thrum in the rhythm she willed it. Closing her eyes was a mistake, because now she could feel that tug of the bond, urging her to move closer to him, to crawl onto his lap like a cat.

She opened her eyes and forced herself to focus on the conversation at hand as she sipped at the mostly empty wine (not whiskey) in her glass. Rhys smirked slyly at her as if he read her thoughts. Perhaps he had.

Elain’s irritation only heightened when she became aware of the subject of conversation – Vassa. Of course, Lucien would spend his time with herand her sister talking about Vassa. She didn’t want him to talk to her, and yet that annoying spike of jealousy pricked at her all the same.

“At Summer Solstice.”

“Surely they wouldn’t notice one fae amongst all those people?” Feyre spoke to him with an indignant tone. Elain scoffed against her will.

Sensing an opportunity to defend Elain, Nesta rallied to her side. “They’ll notice, Fey. Look at him” She gestured at Lucien disdainfully.

It was true. Anyone would look at Lucien, tall and with that unnaturally bright hair and the golden whirring eye, and never mistake him as human. He would have the humans either cowering in fear or raising their weapons with his first step into their territories. 

That the Nolans, of all people, chose to tolerate his presence on the human side of the wall was something she didn’t understand. Often, she suspected it was spite towards her that encouraged the Nolans to let him eat and sleep in their own, admittedly shabby, manor.

She would notice him anywhere, certainly.

“You think I’m a lost cause then?” Lucien leaned back in his chair as he said it, relaxed, as if it was not the first time he’d been told as much. He crossed his ankle easily over one knee, his elbow on the back of his chair, awaiting Feyre's judgement.

“I think you could make it work, with a well-placed glamour and some” she paused as she wrinkled her nose in thought “adjustments.”

Lucien bellowed a laugh then, his head tipping back and his shoulders shaking.

“I suppose I deserved that.” He placed his hand on his chest in faux sincerity. “Tell me, High Lady, what adjustments would please you?”

Feyre paused for a moment as Rhys grinned, watching them. “Elain, you’re the expert on human customs. What do you think?”

Elain felt her face go hot, her cheeks flushing. How could she politely extricate herself from this conversation? “It’s not just the customs...it’s the behavior.” 

His posture was too straight, his voice too low and lilting, his movements too graceful. None of which she would dare say aloud.

“My lady, what of my behavior should I modify?” There was no suggestiveness in his tone, but she heard it, in the way Feyre and Nesta shifted in their seats.

Now she felt like a joke, indignant to have not only her sister, but Lucien, poke at her in this way. The human and the prude were how they saw her, she’s sure.

“The sarcasm would be a good start” She cut in with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I can assure you, Lady, I am utterly sincere. You would be doing a favor to me as well as to the Queen if you would offer your words of wisdom.”

Why should I help her? Elain bit the words back as she observed him. “You can start by bringing your shoulders closer to your chin, you sit much too straight for a human man.”

Lucien brought his chin to his chest at an exaggerated angle that caused her to suppress a laugh. She heard Lucien’s heartbeat quicken. She hated that she could sense him, that she knew he was paying attention. If it were anyone else, she would show him or even place her hands on his shoulders. She didn’t want Lucien to see her look stupid and she certainly couldn’t touch him. So, she sighed in exasperation, trying to think of the best way to explain it.

“Relax your shoulders” He began to shift. “Imagine there is a weight on them, pulling them forward.” She nodded her head encouragingly. “Let your spine curve outward and your chin tilt ever so slightly towards your chest. Act as if you’ve done a long day’s work, whether you have or not. Every human man walks about as if he’s done a long day’s work.”

Lucien frowned as he slouched into his chair, as if it were foreign and the furthest thing from comfortable.

Rhys clapped his hands together in satisfaction. “You’re a natural instructor, Elain. I’ve never seen Lucien look so decidedly unattractive.” Elain fought the urge to glare at Rhys, at the implication that to be human was to be unattractive. Still, she could not fight the comment without stating that Lucien did look attractive. Rhys’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction, baiting her to do just that. Oh.

“I do think it would be beneficial to have our emissary at the coronation, don’t you, Feyre Darling?” Rhys placed his hand at her back as he looked at her for her response. They remained silent for a moment, the unspoken conversation the loudest thing in the room.

“Of course, Rhys. We wouldn’t want to be unrepresented amongst the humans, and it would be good to show Queen Vassa our sign of support.”

“It’s settled then. Lucien, you’ll go to the coronation at Summer Solstice and report back with any pressing news from Scythia.” He turned his gaze in an artfully causal glance towards Elain. “I can trust you to instruct him how to blend in amongst the humans properly?”

Elain’s jaw dropped open in shock at how this had all played in Rhys and Feyre’s favor. She shouldn’t be surprised - Feyre had gone through a bout of pushing her towards Lucien again, certain with Nesta mated and Azriel spending his time in the Autumn Court that Elain would be ready to explore her mating bond. Elain had evaded her at every turn, busying herself with spring planting and learning to can vegetables, something she’d had absolutely no interest in before Feyre had become such a busybody.

Lucien looked towards her, his jaw tightening as he grew serious. “I’m sure Jurian can help me, Rhysand.”

Rhys only batted at the air as if waving the idea away. “Jurian can teach you how to act like a gruff soldier from five centuries ago. He hardly knows how to blend in himself.”

Elain tried to think of a polite way to protest, short of screaming into Feyre’s mind to get her out of this, something she wasn’t sure Feyre would be inclined to do. “I haven’t been amongst humans for several years now, I’m sure someone else would be more qualified.” She swallowed her own distaste as she offered, “Queen Vassa perhaps.”

“Yes, well, you make a fair point but I’m sure the Queen is otherwise occupied preparing to govern Scythia. And anyone else would not be part of the Night Court.”

Lucien cleared his throat, his voice coming out in a rasp. “I’m a quick study.”

The change in his tone caused a warmth to flush to her chest and she couldn’t look at him. She looked towards where Nesta sat, hoping her old ally would intervene on her behalf. Instead, she smirked and raised her brow. Elain knew that look. It was the I told you so. She’d been sent to the House of Wind with Cassian, and now Elain would get the much milder treatment of teaching Lucien how to pretend to be human. Elain would rather hike.

Lucien’s expression was guarded, his eyes looking away from her and his hands clasped against his knees. It was the body of a man preparing himself for another rejection, for her to run away or refuse to spend time with her mate. Not only that, but she’d be refusing yet again to do anything productive for this court, aside from baking that is much better done by the twins. Contrived though this task may be, an effort of matchmaking and meddling more than any true need of Rhys and Feyre’s, it would be counted against her if she refused. It would be another time Elain was too innocent, too fragile, too self-absorbed to truly help the court.

Elain could only look at Feyre as she asked, “How much time do we have?”

*****

“This is a fucking bad idea.” Lucien dragged his hand down his face as he stared at Feyre, placidly drinking her wine across from him. She’d sunk more deeply into the couch cushions, content to stare at the fire and no doubt have some wordless conversation with her mate. He was happy for her but at times their love grew grating.

“I thought you liked bad ideas? I seem to recall the both of us having more than a few.”

“Yes, well. I’ve made enough bad decisions where she’s concerned already.” His stomach tightened as he spoke the words. Hope, too, lingered in his chest, despite his best efforts to push it down. He’d like to make some very specific bad decisions where she’s concerned.  

He couldn’t get her laugh out of his mind. She’d laughed and smiled because of him . Even if it was at his expense, it satisfied that primal need to please his mate in his chest. Mate. Mate. Mate.

It was a need that he both resented and couldn’t deny. He hated that at the first sign of interest from her, he was back to this, panting after her like a dog. She’d train him to be a human, the thing she truly wanted. Lucien was fae, had always been proud of it, and couldn’t conceive of his life any other way. Even after the years he’d spent with Vassa and Jurian and coming to appreciate humans more than he ever had, his fae-ness was immutable, a part of his identity as much as the fire in his blood and the sun in the sky.

He could concede, of course, that Elain probably felt much the same about her humanity. They were doomed from the start, always had been.

“The old Lucien might say what’s one more?” Feyre raised her brow as she tiled a glass in his direction. Well played.

That night, Lucien couldn’t sleep. He paced around the stacks of the library, surely wearing a tread in the plush patterned carpets. The symphonia on the hearth played a soothing chant from the priestesses at the library. He’d listened to similar ones during his youth in the Autumn Court, surprised at the emotions the melodious voices could bring out in him. He was not a religious male, certainly not after his experiences in the Spring Court, but the music never ceased to strike a chord inside of him. Today, it only seemed to ignite his feelings rather than soothe them, - an aching need suffused with his anxiety and bitterness.

Without thinking, his steps led him towards the hall outside Elain’s bedroom. He felt like a wretch, lingering outside her door at all hours, craving her scent, calmed by the sound of her steady heartbeat. Lucien sank to the floor, the exhausted weight of his body pulling him down. He leaned against the wall, listening to the steady, soft beat as it lulled him to sleep.

*****

Lucien woke to a very gruff kick to his shin.

“Your mate would not be pleased to find you here” Rhysand’s velveteen voice chided with amusement.

Lucien ran a hand along his jaw, struggling to orient himself as he awoke. It was that sweet honey scent that awakened both his mind, and unfortunately for Rhys, his cock. He leapt to attention with all of the grace of the fae to move away from her door without making a sound. Rhysand didn’t follow him, chuckling as he headed down the stairs.

Lucien collapsed to his bed, allowing himself to wallow in the frustration of yet another day longing for his mate against his will and better judgement. He imagined sleeping every night with her heart beating in sync with his own, her gentle breaths warm against his neck. He longed to hold her, to run his hands through the soft waves of her hair. 

What did she know of loneliness, of longing? Elain had always been surrounded by sisters who loved her and protected her. She’d been the sweet, spoiled sister, guarded from the dangers of the forest or the cruelty of family expectations. She’d courted a little lordling, gained status and security and would have happily jumped into a marital bed with that fae hating man. Not Lucien though. 

Even before he knew her, his body always craved her, longed for her in the way of the fae. He would have spent centuries never knowing why that place in his chest ached for something he couldn’t name. Her. Elain. 

And she was all but disgusted by him. She still resented the fae, had grown up hating them. And now she would contort Lucien into something more palatable to her, more human. And yet, what wouldn’t he do to debase himself just to please her? He’d get on his knees and beg if she would just look at him with an ounce of affection. It’s pathetic.

The only thing to interrupt his wallowing was his pride that at least he would look like a respectable fae male when he came to meet his mate. Elain always looked beautiful, her dresses flowing along the curves of her body and her hair woven in some intricate braid. He wanted to watch the deft way her fingers worked her curls into delicate patterns. Lucien poured oils into his bath, the room filled with the warm scents of amber and myrrh. He hummed to himself as he sank in, repeating the chanting sounds that soothed him from the night before.

 *****

Elain didn’t know why she bothered, even as she twisted and retwisted the curls in her hair, trying to arrange them in a way that looked soft but not intentionally so. She pulled at wisps of hair at her neck and cheeks, letting pieces loose as she huffed a sigh of frustration. Lucien wouldn’t notice such a thing, nor did she care for his opinion. And yet, she couldn’t help wanting him to find her beautiful, prone as he was to staring in her direction. She pinched her cheeks to add a flush, as if she wasn’t always blushing in his presence anyway.

How she was meant to spend the day teaching the most fae male she’d ever met, her mate , to appear human, she wasn’t certain. It was like teaching a fish to breathe air.  She felt the bond constricting like a vice in her chest at the thought. That bitter taste of jealousy joined with it. 

He wouldn’t do this for her, he all but reviled human customs when it came to her. He’d never attempted to court her or share any of her human customs. And yet, for Vassa, the human woman he truly admired, he was prepared to don human clothes and change his very demeanor to please her. And to serve the night court, of course, to whom he felt more obligation. Elain would always be the afterthought, sweet, quiet Elain who never made demands or caused trouble.

Elain trounced downstairs, having already worked herself into a sullen mood. The sun had not yet risen, and the halls and parlor glowed with the candles and glimmering orbs that decorated every surface. Garlands of pine and citrus hung from the mantle and across the table, filling the room with a warm, winter scent. Something drew her to the flames as she raised her hand towards them. It called to her own magic. Lucien. Of course it was his magic that lit the flames, that felt like a warm embrace soothing her nerves. Damn him.

Suddenly, it was not just the flames that warmed her, she felt a radiating heat all around her. Just as she predicted, she felt her cheeks go hot and she inhaled his warm, musky scent. His body, tall and broad, stood behind her, practically begging her to lean into him, to embrace the warmth of his touch.

His voice rumbled in her ear as he leaned in close behind her. “I can feel it, you know.”

Gods above. Feel what? She felt herself panic, unsure how to respond, her whole body aflame. “I’m sorry?”

“When you touch my magic like that.” He held out his hand, the flames skittering around his fingers and down to his wrist. Touch him. Taste him.Her body called to her.

Elain had never hated being fae more. As if their heightened senses weren’t enough, now this? 

Elain unsubtly cleared her throat, putting on her most proper airs. Lucien dropped his hand, the flames disappearing without a hint of smoke. She took one longing inhale of his scent as he stepped away. 

“Shall we get started?” Lucien ran his hand through his hair as he looked at her, his voice a low rumble. 

Elain only fluffed her skirts in response. “Yes, let’s. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.” 

A hint of amusement glimmered in Lucien’s eye as he began to walk towards the library.

[psychoticwillgraham]

need someone to talk about my au's with and bounce ideas off of :(

[rosanna-writer]

Karma Is My Boyfriend (3/6)

Summary: Elain Archeron saved countless lives by vanquishing Graysen Nolan, her literal demon of a fiancé. She's a hero, but it's just not fair that being a good witch destined to rid the world of evil has left her tragically, painfully single. Enter Lucien Vanserra, the best cupid in the business, who's been sent by the universe to balance the karmic scales and find Elain the perfect new partner…

Another update for @elucienweekofficial!!!

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

The third chapter can be found Here on AO3 or under the cut.

Archeron family dinners were a chaotic affair. That night, Nesta was using her telekinesis to move Rhys's wineglass another half-inch to the left every time he stopped paying attention, and Cassian was tossing grapes in the air to see if he could catch them with his mouth before Feyre turned them to mist. And when they weren't terrorizing their siblings-in-law, both married couples were holding hands under the table and making eyes at each other over their plates.

Elain loved them all—as individuals. But she hated feeling like a fifth wheel in her own home.

And she had to admit, it was better with Lucien there. Partially just because it was a relief that for once, she wasn't the only one with table manners. But also, because things felt…balanced with him there. Like he'd filled in a spot that none of them knew was vacant.

Elain could almost fool herself into believing that Lucien was a permanent addition to the household. But when the plates were cleared and Lucien stood to go, the illusion was broken, and she felt a strange sense of disappointment.

He held out a hand for her and said, "I have something to show you."

"Now?" Elain said.

"No time like the present. And I think unclogging that block is going to be quite the undertaking."

Elain wondered if he was really so eager to be rid of her that quickly. Perhaps as a cupid, he really did think of her as nothing more than a particularly nasty drain in need of a good plunging.

She took his hand and tried not to look hurt.

There was a flash of red light, and they found themselves in a crowded basement at a Halloween party. As Elain blinked and took in their new surroundings, a girl in cat ears walked straight through her and Lucien. And there was a strange, dreamy haze over everything.

They were watching a memory.

A version of herself from the past came down the stairs, wearing a headband with a halo on a spring and a pair of cheap plastic wings. She'd scrounged up the costume at the last minute, less worried about how she looked and just wanting one night of non-magical, normal fun.

As she made her way to one of the coolers full of drinks, one of the wings knocked into someone. "Sorry!" Elain said in the memory, turning to see who she'd bumped into.

It was the man she'd been hearing about all night. He wore a headband of his own, one with bright red horns, and carried a cartoonish pitchfork—no wonder Elain had been getting such strange looks when mentioned that she'd come here alone. Everyone had assumed they'd planned a couple's costume.

Graysen Nolan was even more handsome than she remembered.

Elain found herself clutching Lucien's hand as she watched herself flirt her way through her first interaction with her future ex-fiancé.

Their costumes, his cheesy line about whether or not it hurt when she fell from heaven—all of it was so much more painful in hindsight. She'd been so stupid and naive, starting with this very first night when she went home with him.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and her grip on Lucien's hand became painfully tight. "Why did you show me this?" she said, and the memory around them paused.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Lucien said gently.

"He was just another demon." One in a very long line of them—Elain had vanquished more than she could count.

"In the end, yes. But I brought you to this moment because none of that had happened yet. I won't deny that Graysen ruined it all later. But beginnings—when there's nothing but a spark and infinite possibilities—those are pure. You're blocked because you stopped believing in that."

Elain wiped at her eyes with the hand that wasn't entwined with Lucien's. "It was doomed from the start."

As a seer, she knew all about fate and inevitable sad endings. Her gift was meant to help her find innocents in need of protection—she never had visions of her own life. But still, a part of her thought that with all that experience, she should have predicted where things would end with Graysen anyway.

Lucien wasn't looking at her like she'd been silly or naive, though. There was a deep well of understanding in his eyes as he said, "Perhaps. But if that's the case, it makes you even braver for trying."

Before Elain could even begin to figure out what to say to that, there was another flash of light. This time, they appeared in a rooftop garden. The place where Graysen had proposed.

And the place where Elain had killed him.

He'd gotten paranoid, in the end. Elain had known something was wrong when he tried to isolate her from her sisters—urging her to move out of the manor, complaining that they stifled her, refusing to even be around them. After they'd discovered he'd lied about no longer killing innocents, Nesta or Feyre would have gladly been the ones to land the killing blow, but it was too difficult for them to get close enough. It had to be Elain.

To make a potion strong enough to vanquish him, they'd needed to brew it together, imbuing it with their combined power. Elain had dipped a dagger in it, then packed the blade along with snacks for a picnic and told her fiancé she'd planned a surprise for their anniversary.

The memory played, and Elain watched herself kiss Graysen hello for the last time. Even though it had been a risk—he might have found the dagger—she hadn't pulled it on him right away. To the very end, she'd been stupid and sentimental, and they'd reminisced about their first meeting in the place they'd gotten engaged.

Graysen hadn't known it, but it had been her way of saying goodbye.

Lucien wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Elain watched the memory. She leaned into him, grateful for the support as they watched the version of her from the past pull out the dagger. Graysen hadn't tried to fight her off; instead, he'd tried pleading with her, promising he wouldn't hurt another innocent again if Elain just let him go. He'd even cried.

Just for a moment, she'd considered it. He'd smiled when he saw the hesitation in her eyes, and that was when Elain plunged the blade into his heart.

Without thinking, she turned her head, burying her face in Lucien's chest as Graysen began to scream. The memory stopped, but they stood there in silence for a long moment, and Lucien's thumbs rubbed soothing circles onto her upper arms.

Safe. Elain felt so safe with him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and she let out an involuntary sigh. They might have been standing right in the middle of the worst memory of her life, but she'd want to stay there forever if it meant Lucien kept holding her.

"I know this one was painful to watch," he said eventually, "but I hope you can come away knowing how strong you are. You have every reason in the world to be afraid of finding love again, but I fully believe you can master that fear."

"Thank you," she said, voice tight.

There was another flash of light, and this time, a forest emerged around them. A gentle breeze was sending autumn leaves tumbling to the ground, and the air felt crisp as Elain breathed it in.

It was beautiful, but…completely unfamiliar. This memory wasn't hers.

Before Elain could ask where they were, she caught a glimpse of auburn hair gleaming in the sun. This was Lucien's memory, one old enough that there was no mechanical eye or scar on his face.

He looked contented enough, hiking a trail alone. And it seemed like he might have been the only person around for miles, but the sound of a dog barking shattered that illusion.

A woman Elain had never seen before came around a bend, her excited little dog wagging his tail and straining at his leash to get closer to Lucien. They stopped to talk. Lucien scratched the dog on his head, and somewhere in the middle of the conversation, the dog's happy bobbing and weaving between their legs resulted in the leash tangling together Lucien and the dog's owner.

They both nearly fell over, but at the last minute, Lucien grabbed her and pulled her flush against him. The woman giggled and blushed prettily.

"Her name was Jesminda," Lucien said quietly. Past tense.

He'd said that dating wasn't in the cards for him anymore. Perhaps it was rude to ask, but Elain supposed he'd shown her this for a reason. "What happened to her?"

"My stepfather was a demon, and she was one of the many innocents he killed before he was vanquished."

"I'm sorry." The words had never seemed so pathetically small, but there was nothing else she could think of to say.

"I became a cupid to honor her memory. After everything we shared, it seemed fitting to connect people with their true love so they could experience the same blessing that I did."

Elain turned to face him fully. By bringing her here, Lucien had bared a part of his soul to her. It was far more vulnerability than he needed to show in order to fix her block.

There was something more he was trying to tell her than just that she needed to believe in herself. "What makes you think you couldn't experience it again?" she said.

"It's exceedingly rare for lightning to strike the same place twice."

"But not impossible."

Lucien's smile didn't meet his eyes. "Not impossible. But close to it."

Elain couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't the only one whose past had left them blocked. But she wasn't a cupid whose expertise was matching people up with their happy endings.

Maybe…this had been Lucien's way of letting her down gently. If he wasn't ready to try again, she understood.

"Thank you for this," she said, taking another step away from him. "Really. It was all quite…illuminating. I think I might be closer to moving on."

"That's good to hear," he said, voice tight.

One last flash of light, and Elain was back at the Archeron manor, with Lucien nowhere to be found. She'd see him again—after all, she hadn't actually found true love yet—but with a pang, she realized she wished she could have bid him goodnight.

After everything she'd seen…Elain didn't want to be alone. The kitchen light was on, so she headed that way and found Cassian washing dishes. They did have a dishwasher, but it was out of commission. And since Cassian's job as a handyman repairing the manor was revealed to be a ruse that allowed him to keep an eye on his charges, nothing in the Archeron manor got fixed quickly anymore.

Ducking around one of his massive, feathery wings, Elain grabbed a clean towel and started drying plates. Might as well make herself useful.

"So what did you and Lucien fight about?" Cassian said, not even bothering with a greeting.

Elain nearly dropped the plate in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"You left to go unclog yourself or whatever and came back looking like you might cry."

"Nothing happened," she said quickly. Cassian just dropped the sponge, raised his brows, and waited. Elain sighed. "Nothing important happened."

"If it involves one of my charges, it's important."

Elain bit back another sigh—it wasn't fair of him to play the guardian angel card. She wouldn't be surprised if Nesta put him up to this. "Lucien's not a threat."

Cassian raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture, then went back to scrubbing a pan. "Good. Because if I need to give anyone the break-her-heart-and-I-break-your-face speech, I'd rather not find out last minute. And since you're dating again…"

He let the implication hang in the air. And despite herself, Elain's cheeks went pink. "It's too early for that."

"I'm just saying, since I'm banned from Adriata and all, I'll need extra advance notice with Tarquin."

Right. The wrecked building that he'd refused to share any further details about, no matter how many times she and Feyre asked about it. Elain found herself cracking a smile.

"You'll be the first to know. I promise."

"This is why you're my favorite charge. So much easier to keep track of than the other two," Cassian said, knocking a wing against her arm affectionately. Dropping his voice to a stage whisper he added, "Don't tell Feyre and Nesta I said that."

By the time the last of the dishes were dried and put away, Elain was feeling just a bit better. It helped that Cassian gave the best hugs of anyone she knew, wrapping her in both his massive arms and cocooning her with his wings, too. Once she was alone in her room, she sent a quick text message.

But somehow, once that was done, Elain was unable to shake the feeling that she'd just made a wrong choice.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 7

Ch 8 is done, working on Ch9 so here is ch7! Enjoy and check the end notes for a bit of explanation(?) 🫠

The action is starting soon- I'm buzzing with the need to finally get into the Viltrumite plot but it still will take a bit, haste spoils the work, and all that.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 7 >>next

In the week that it took to get all documents done and over with, you and the Graysons grew closer and closer, specifically you and your brother, both of you seemed to sink your claws into each other, acting more like twins in sync than an older and younger sibling duo.

If Mark wanted to go somewhere and Nolan wasn’t around. You’d fly him there, if you wanted something and were too shy or nervous to ask his parents for it, he’d ask for it and give it to you later. And, while you both had bedrooms, every other night there was a sleepover in the others one room, always ending up with you two sleeping under a pillow fort, being kids, having fun.

You loved Debbie, and Nolan was okay even when he was clingy and talking nonsense about training you to conquer words. You were quite sure he was joking, the face he made right after saying things like that reassured you that wasn’t quite what he wanted to say- or it wasn’t how he felt anymore.

It was easy to see that you preferred Debbie, no matter how much Nolan tried to spend time with you, or how close you were to Mark, your priority was always Debbie. You weren’t calling her mom, it felt too soon for you, you weren’t ready, but you were a mama’s girl. You were the first to greet her, the first to offer to help her cook and clean, the first to go shopping with her, even the first to shyly ask her to paint your nails or to just spend time together.

It was so long since you went physically into a shop, even after leaving the Waynes you stuck to online shopping, and the first time you did it was with Debra, your hand shaking in hers as you stuck close to her, quieter than usual. The traffic of the store clearly made you nervous, so the woman made sure to always have a reassuring hand on you if she couldn’t hold your hand. With time you didn’t need to hold onto her anymore. Debbie almost cried when she realized that soon you wouldn’t need her at all.

And then the discussion of school came up. You could have lied, told them that you haven’t gone to school since your mom died- but you didn’t want to be like Bruce, all secrets and lies, you were already keeping quite the secret by not telling them about who your biological father is. So, you told them everything about you skipping grades, showing the diplomas and online school you’ve still worked on.

Neither of the adults seemed happy about you being stuck with online class, and honestly, neither were you. When your question about maybe joining the same grade as Markus, to keep close to him and meet other children your age, seemed to make both as happy as you were when they approved.

Now, it was easy to get you in, you even met William, Mark’s friend, but keeping yourself from correcting the teachers was another thing. You understood to a degree that the curriculum was different, that you were still kids and maybe learning about genocides wasn’t ideal- but when so many of your peers are willing to throw slurs left and right like 4Chan degenerates you were sure they could take the reality of what actually happened in history.  

Then the math teacher accused you of having an answer book, of cheating, of using a calculator when you were told not to- you may have snapped and yelled at him to give you an equation, any equation that was taught in the older grades, and if you could complete it in front of everyone, on the board, he’ll have to shut up about you.

That’s how you ended up seeing the principal, not because of your outburst, but because the teacher decided you were wasting your potential sitting around with the others when you could be in a grade that fulfilled your needs and developed you further. The principal agreed, and he was tired of the other teachers complaining, so you and your guardians were given an option of either taking a test to assess what grade you should be put in- or expulsion due to the many complaints against you.

You took the test. That way you could at least still be in the same building as Mark, and could still socialize, even if the idea of the older kids made you anxious- the high school themed movies didn’t help your expectations. The girls that you hung around in your new class, however, were quite nice, saw you as a little sister, including you in their study sessions and girl talk, braiding your hair. The boys mostly ignored you, and in return you ignored them. It was nice.

Debbie always worried about the older kids, and while Nolan did too, he was more enthusiastic about you being in school for one year instead of the other 4 or 5, after all, surely, you’ll want to help dad with hero work instead of going to college… Right?... Well, no. Your sight was set on the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, their art programs making you go rabid with need- so many options, so many possibilities, you couldn’t decide on what you wanted to apply for. If you had eternity on your side, you’d apply for all of them, not like Bruce will need the money.

The year you spent at school, actually at school, was as fun as it was exhausting. You never realized how much energy it takes to wake up at a specific hour every day, to socialize, to take tests with about 30 other students- It sometimes overstimulated you, making you miss online schooling to a degree. Still, you found solace in your visual arts class.

The teacher loved you, not many other students were that interested in drawing, let alone actually learning and painting on canvases. So, you coming in with sheets of paper as tall as you were, with paints and canvases, with charcoal and markers- oh she could almost cry of happiness. She wasn’t a mean teacher, or eccentric like in the movies, but she wasn’t a pushover either. If you wanted a grade in her classroom, you had better have something to show for it, and you had plenty.

While the others had a theme to follow due to them not taking the class for love of the arts but because they thought it would be easy work, she gave you freedom, so you took it. Your first drawings were of Lady Gotham, racking your brain to remember the stories the kids told you every night of her, not wanting to forget them or where you came from. Your teacher didn’t comment on the small figures you sometimes added sitting on her shoulder.

While you stuck to painting her statue in classes, your sketchbook was full of the many variants of her, everyone seemed to see a loved one in her face, but the only common thing was the long hair tied into a nice Edwardian or Victorian crown-bun, and her dark grey, fancy dress and pale, clawed hands.

If you were to ask the teacher which one was her favorite, she’d say it was your depiction of Death in the first painting you did in her class. It also depicted Morpheus, both of them standing over a bundled-up child trying to find some warmth in the corner of an alley as the God-like entities melted with the shadows, though the one of Persephone lounging with Cerberus and Hades was a close second. To her it was poetic, to you, it was a reality you didn’t want to duel on for any longer.

Time has never flown this fast for you, it was like you blinked and the year was over, finals and graduation looming close. You’ve grown closer to the Graysons, slipped once or twice and even called Debbie “mom”, got quite comfortable being close to Nolan, fell asleep on him a few times as he made for a nice furnace after training, and you and Mark were as inseparable as ever.

This was everything you wanted, more than you could ever dream of. Your eyes sparkled in tempo with the shines of the stars as you lied on your back on the roof. You missed your friends in Gotham, there will always be love for them in your heart- but this isn’t something you’ll be willing to give up without a fight, not when you were getting more and more powerful with each month.

Your hands moved in a similar manner to Atom Eve’s over your day clothes while you got up, making them shine a bright neon green, the color diming down and revealing pajamas once you set foot back in your bedroom.

You’ve learned- you know better now. You’re more than willing to eliminate any threat before they get the chance to do so, to take another loved one from you.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami

Notes: The green color of her powers is more a nod to the Lazarus water, it can be easily changed in y'alls mind but I think it's an important tiny detail. The reader's powers developed, but she still uses other's heroes moves to use them. And Nolan's training and words have felt a mark on batsis.

Hope I'm not forgetting anything else- 😬