#not sure if I should tag cass or not since she is technically there

[boobilby]

They’re kind of ugly (Damian Tim and Steph look alright) and Jason gets the piercing treatment because my friend is obsessed with him and that’s how they draw him and I must obey

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader

Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?

Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.

Word count: 7k.

Warnings: Some injury detail.

“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”

Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.

Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.

Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.

“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”

“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”

“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”

“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”

“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.

He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.

Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.

He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.

Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?

He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.

“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”

Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”

“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”

“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”

“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”

“I’m not saying that, Az—”

“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”

“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”

“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”

“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”

Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.

He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.

And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”

“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”

Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”

“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”

Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.

“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”

As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”

That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.

Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”

Az says again, “Fuck you.”

Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”

“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.

“Where are you going?” Az asks.

“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”

He has no idea how right he is.

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It starts with the fire going out. Always.

The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.

You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.

Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.

Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.

Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.

But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.

“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.

“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”

It.

“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”

“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”

You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.

Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”

The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”

You do not move.

“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”

They laugh at that.

You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”

He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.

“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”

If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.

“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”

“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”

There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.

“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”

You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.

You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.

You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.

“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”

And then they begin hacking at your wings.

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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.

You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.

The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.

“Will she live?” Your father asks.

“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”

“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”

“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”

“I will do with my child as I see fit.”

“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”

Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”

“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”

Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.

Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”

No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.

You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.

Bury the body.

Bury the body.

Bury the—

Your body lurches up.

Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.

The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.

They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.

You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.

“You were shouting in your sleep again.”

You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.

“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”

“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”

“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”

Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.

The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.

“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”

Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—

“I’m going, I’m going.”

The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.

Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”

“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”

“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”

She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.

“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”

She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”

You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.

Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.

And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.

But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.

You need to be away from them. To be on your own.

“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”

The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”

“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”

“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”

“Of course I will.” No.

She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.

But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.

“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”

“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”

She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.

You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.

You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.

So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.

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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.

The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.

He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—

“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”

Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.

Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”

Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.

The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.

See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.

Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.

It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.

It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.

Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.

“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”

Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”

There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”

At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.

“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”

“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.

It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.

But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.

Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”

No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.

He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”

He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.

Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”

“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.

Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”

“Listen, Cassian—”

“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”

All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.

All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.

But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.

She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.

“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”

Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.

Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.

“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”

Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”

Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.

“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”

“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.

Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.

“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”

True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.

She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.

So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?

This is fucking ridiculous.

She can’t be left to live like this.

“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”

Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.

Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”

Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.

“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”

Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”

“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”

The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.

But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.

“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.

She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.

“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”

Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”

“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”

Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.

But Az seems oblivious.

“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”

“She wouldn’t—”

“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.

Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”

Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”

Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”

“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”

“Cassian, that is enough—”

“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”

Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.

“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.

He barks a laugh. “No chance.”

“Kaeda just said she’d help—”

“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”

Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—

“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”

Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”

“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.

Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”

Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.

Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.

And then there were two.

Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.

“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”

A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”

“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”

Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.

“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”

She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.

This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.

You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.

And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?

These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.

You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.

You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.

No.

You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—

But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.

“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”

If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”

“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”

But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.

“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.

But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.

Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.

“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”

You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”

“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”

You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”

“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”

“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”

He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”

“No.”

“What? Why?”

“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”

“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”

“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”

You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”

“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”

“Why?”

“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”

It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.

Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”

“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”

Azriel stops short. Stares at you.

You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.

You’re not sure you can do that anymore.

Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”

“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”

Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.

You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.

And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.

“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”

You fold your arms. “Fine.”

“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”

“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”

“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”

You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.

So you say nothing. You just shrug again.

He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.

You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.

And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”

He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.

And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.

azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Ik you're working hard on the next nycv chapter buuuuuut if it's okay can i ask for more cute pre-isekai!batsis stuff with the batboys 🥺 if you're okay with it ofc!

Oh I'm always down for writing stuff about NYCV, sure I'll do like some bullet points or something

Not a chapter but y'all get some NYCV stuff too! Also to those who haven't read it this should be readable without having prior knowledge of the series so feel free to sit back and enjoy some Batboys fluff!

Tag list since it's technically NYCV content: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnacks @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc @rainnyydaysworld  @underworlder @franini @mayo-0-o 

NYCV!Batsis & the Batboys

[Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Dick Grayson

As we all know, he's the first batsib, talk about a high bar to reach (ba dum tss), and luckily for you he was an amazing older brother.

Fun where it counts, doting 24/7, protective when the situation calls for it, and stern when he has to be. There's a reason why you looked up to him more than your father in some regards.

Whenever he's off on a mission somewhere far away, he sends you postcards. You keep them in a box under your bed and you haven't thrown a single one away! Each card had a cheesy joke written on them, something to make you smile while he was gone is how he signed them all off with.

There was one time he was on 'Babysitter Duty' (as they later put it) and you ended up staging a bank robbery in the ballroom while he played the Boy Wonder (of course) who saved the day! (Poor Alfred was nominated to be Condiment King).

He's actually insufferable, his coworkers used to hate him because of how often he'd pull his phone/wallet/photobook/whatever could physically hold your picture just to gush and say "Look at my baby sister isn't she perfect?!" "Dude, that's, like, a whole ass teenager" "Shut up."

Although you'd always shown interest in his vigilante work, up until after the whole "I will never be a vigilante thing" much later, Dick was always very very careful in keeping you away from it. Hell, you didn't even know he was a Robin until you wandered into his room one evening when he came back from patrol.

By the time you'd figured him out, he did everything he could to keep you away from harm's way. You just weren't trained to handle yourself, and Dick would be a leader before he was your brother, as much as he'd hate to admit it. So, to keep you safe, he kept you away.

But, when he was there, he made sure to be the best older brother you could ask for. Gifts, advice, jokes, confidants, anything you'd ask. After all, he had competition.

Jason Todd

AKA, the Competition. He's the next batsib you got and so far he apparently holds the title for 'Best Sibling' (according to a ranking system you didn't know about that's being score kept by Alfred, in second place is Cass, for those wondering).

If Dick was the doting older brother then Jason was the annoying one. The kind of brother to open the door to your room, stare at you for five minutes, and walk away like nothing happened. The kind of brother to pull a 'I'm not even bothering you!' kind of move.

But, when it comes down to it, oh this dude's taking a bullet for you. I mentioned it once in the story but he'd always wanted a younger sister and bam he got one, sure he thought you were a spoiled brat at first (and in some ways you were) but hell he's damn sure he'll keep you that way if it meant you'd always be, well, you.

There were some days he'd wonder what it would be like if you'd switched places. If he was the one with the silver spoon and you were the Gotham street rat and nope, shake that thought out of his head. Without you he's sure he'd have gone off the deep end in this vigilante shit.

As much as you'd argue that you both secretly hated each other, you'd remember the time when Jason broke his hand punching Conner Kent in the face. He'd just come back to the family and while you were both getting caught up, you let slip that you broke up because he fell in love with someone else and... whoops. Good thing Tim was there to talk some sense into him.

For the record, Conner did lose his footing, but he argues it's because he was caught off guard, while Jason swears up and down it's because the Lazarus Pit made him stronger, or something like that. You try not to think about it, you're surprised you're still allowed within Titan tower.

He'd never admit it, but of the batsibs he actually knows you best. If the others have questions about what you'd like or how you'd react to something they'd ask Jason. He'd always answer in a way that would wave them off, but he's never been wrong.

Jason, as cold-shouldered as he could be, he has a soft spot for you. If he ever saw you in trouble he's definitely going to step between whatever's going on, don't doubt him on that.

Tim Drake

The first younger brother and, in his argument, therefore the best. Ironically since he was the first younger one you did dote on him a little too much, being the one "good cop" figure in the manor while he was training to be a Robin.

Of course, though you were on the civilian side of things, he actually looked up to you in ways he never could with Dick or Bruce. While they're mainly for the vigilante stuff, you're just there to make sure he doesn't forget who he is: Timothy Drake and not just a Robin.

You were really trying to replicate what your older brothers did for you with Tim, though it was only a little more difficult with his background. Hard to get gifts for someone who probably already has it, and hard to keep secrets and surprises from someone who's good at figuring them out, but you always figured out a way, and those ways always made him happy to see.

Thursdays are Tim and (Y/N) days, everyone in the family knows it. It started out as a mini tradition to get Tim out of the house every now and then and soon it became routine, it was the time you both took to catch up with each other and this especially became true after you went to college. Those times were precious for him, and he always looked forward to it.

Until, that is, other members started crashing it. It started with Dick coincidentally running into you both and suddenly now Jason's already sitting at your booth? And Stephanie? And Cass? Barbara?! What happened to Tim and (Y/N) time?!

But, he had to admit, it was rare to see them all getting along well like this. He couldn't complain, as long as you all got to spend time together that's all that mattered. And, in the end, it was always you two anyway. You are one of his greatest confidants, and he is one of yours likewise. Despite the short age gap, you often found that you shared a lot in common with him. Maybe it was because of your similar backgrounds, or maybe it was because you doted on him so much.

Tim looks up to you. More than you think, and more that you'd expect. Every time you reminded him that you were just a civilian part of it seemed wrong to him. You're as much a part of the family as he is, or as anyone is, and usually it would be him to remind you of that when he caught you distancing yourself again.

You couldn't hide anything from each other, you could read him so easily and he was just good at finding things out. And when it came to being middle siblings, well, that's a pact in and of itself.

Damian Wayne

When you'd heard about getting another younger brother, a blood related one at that, you were ecstatic. Of course, you had Tim, but Tim had his responsibilities to the Drakes too, Damian was a Wayne and so were you, it was a little different.

Sure, his appearance was... sudden. His first impressions not so great either, but you could read him well. He was so young when he came into your father's care and underneath the harsh training and the poisoned words was still that little boy he is and you were determined to help him remember that it was okay to be a boy.

Taking him to the arcade, buying him books, and treating him out for meals were just a few points off of a list of things you've done to make him feel comfortable. You're not a vigilante, you can't help him with training or anything else, but you can help him in other ways and you tried to show that to him.

It took forever. Maybe about a year or so for him to finally open up to you, but once he did it was like a triumph to you, and you knew that you did well when one day you woke up and saw him fast asleep at the foot of your bed, still clad in pajamas and eyes slightly puffy from whatever happened the night before. He's still a boy. You'd remind that to everyone when necessary.

After a while, he would come to you to ask about civilian things, troubles at school, troubles with making friends, and even troubles at galas. And every time you were there to help him out, giving him a few tips and tricks on how to avoid the paprazzi, maybe a clue here and there about what to look out for when looking for friends, and, of course, study tips so he didn't lose his mind in academy.

One day, while waiting to pick him up, there was a knock at your window. It was a woman you'd never seen before. She wore a headscarf that covered her hair and a pair of sunglasses that partially concealed her identity and, hell, if you didn't know any better you'd think that was your own mother. But something told you that she wasn't there to just say hello and, naively, you opened your door and let her in.

She sat at the passenger's seat, everything about her poised and elegant to the point that you were near in awe at her disposition and, quietly, she spoke, "thank you, for everything you've done for Damian." Talia al Ghul, she had to be, why else would she be here? You hadn't heard much about her, you'd barely even seen a few pictures of her from Damian's belongings, but here she was. "Of course," you'd answer, "I know it's not the same, but I know a little bit of how it feels to be alone." And to this she nodded, with a small smile, and with one glance out the car she left, moments later being replaced by Damian.

"So, where are we going today?" He'd ask. You'd give him a list of places, ask him to choose one, and you'd head there with him in tow. One of his favorites had always been the park.

Bonus: Bruce Wayne

I had to include bat-dad. Despite how I write him, he actually really is a good father, just not in the way you'd expect him to be. Y'all hold out for his arc, I promise it will be good!

When you were first dropped off at the manor, you didn't know what to expect from him. He was this huge imposing figure who was clad in black with a scowl on his face, you thought he hated you already. You were so young at the time, how could you have known any better?

Whenever he spoke to you, he'd crouch down and speak in a gentle voice. Whenever you'd ask him of something, even if it seemed like he didn't hear you, you'd see your answer within the next few days. He'd build you a whole other manor if you asked for it.

If only he wasn't so busy, juggling his role as CEO and Batman, he barely had enough time for the both of those, let alone time to raise a daughter, but he tried to show you that he was there in other ways. Fully funding your schooling was a given, but whenever you'd show interest in anything suddenly you'd see more of it in the manor.

When you'd expressed to Dick that you were interested in the piano, you found one in the house the next day. When you'd told Jason that you wanted to read more of a certain author, her entire collection was in the library. You once told Tim that you wanted to go to Metropolis U for college and, out of nowhere, there was an offer for a full ride. You and Damian used to go over to the Kent's to play a certain video game since neither of you had the time to bring it over and, would you look at that, the manor now has a game room.

A series of misunderstandings is what plagued this relationship. One from a father who barely felt the love of a parent and the other from a daughter who vyed for it. You both found your own way of communicating with each other, and it wasn't until the very end where it got strained.

But could you blame him?

You called him a monster.

You didn't even let him explain himself.

But, truthfully, even if you did...

He wasn't sure if you'd understand it.

Hell, he didn't even understand it himself.

All he felt was the heartbreak of realizing he made a mistake that couldn't be undone.

[awritingcaitlin]

Find the Word!

I was tagged by @mjjune!

My words are: forever, find, food, finger, flick

I'll be tagging @carrotblr, @legiomiam, @juls-writes, @pinespittinink, and @sentfromwolves for the words: total, table, thought, time, twitch

Enjoy some snippets from Relic of the Gods (ViolinHeist)!

FLICK

“What’s the total cost going to be today?” Lelia asked.

“’Bout eighty silver I think, is the monthly gamut without any of the pre-dosed stuff,” Brianna said.

Lelia nodded and shifted to get to her money pouch. “Sounds about right.” She flicked through the coins and realized she didn’t have enough heavy silver to get her up to eighty. “I don’t have it on me,” she said, biting her lip. “But if you write the invoice, I’ll go to the bank and pull that out and pay for it by the time you get it all done.”

Brianna closed Lelia’s folder. “Sounds good dear.”

.

FOREVER

Laundry took up the rest of her afternoon but at least the chore was done. Of course, it was only after she’d gone to the nearby laundromat that Mama Cass told her she could’ve used The Tipsy Tom’s laundry services. Then again, Lelia hadn’t asked before she’d headed out either, rather she’d asked Riela where the nearest laundromat was – and had received precisely that answer.

Once everything was neatly put away again, she went back down to the dining room to see about some dinner and if she maybe could get the chance to play again. She didn’t want to stay at The Tipsy Tom forever, but that was the next step of the process.

She went downstairs, bringing her violin just in case, to save herself the trip of going back upstairs later. As she came down, she saw Ronan in the crowd, sitting at one of the tables along the sides, one designed to sit closer to eight people. He was there with Em, and three people she didn’t recognize. One was a brunette man with a well-tailored coat. The other two were a man and woman with straw-blonde hair and were likely siblings based on their hair color and build alone.

.

FIND

That thought in mind, she reached out telepathically, trying to find Izzy if she was close.

Telepathy worked best when you knew where the other person was. But technically, so long as they were close enough, you could start the connection – if you could find their aura in the midst of everything else. Crowds obviously made things harder, so did spans of water. But familial bonds made it easier.

She found the pull of Izzy’s aura and pressed against it, asking for attention. There was a point in history where she could have shown up in Izzy’s head completely unannounced, but they were younger then, closer.

Hey, what’s up? Izzy asked.

I was about to ask the same question, Lelia said. I’m, um, I’m in town this afternoon.

Oh no shit! I’m not up to anything beyond doing some reading for one of my upcoming classes, I can totally drop that. I’m guessing you don’t want to come by the house, so where should I meet you?

I’m at Berthingtonn U. Maybe that sandwich place we both like?

Sure! I’ll head right over.

.

FOOD

It would be very easy to get lost in this crowd. Which was good.

Lelia meandered in the direction of food, the lines for that were particularly long, but it wasn’t like they needed to be doing anything beyond kill time at this point. Em just kept cataloguing as they did.

No two fancy dresses were alike. Even the suits were different in some manner or form, with different colors, accents, and cuts. A couple of Timernans were wearing kilts and Em wondered if they were hired guards for someone or just happened to be paying respects to Shierdi that night. She knew for a fact Ronan had not chosen to wear a kilt for the occasion, since he’d wanted to be in on the nabbing. Kilts stood out.

Lelia got a plate of food and waited until they’d moved away from the serving tables to roll her eyes and scoff.

“So not worth the money,” she murmured. “Dainty finger sandwiches never are.”

.

FINGER

The drive back to South Town was eerily silent. They weren’t stopped going out of the gate, merely waved through. Em found her breath came easier once they were through the checkpoint, and she saw the longer-than-usual exhale from Vinny that was a disguised sigh of relief.

Jacques and Verity both looked cool and collected in the front seat. Without seeing their faces, Em was also unable to see their imperceptible tells of relaxing as they drove the streets of South Town.

Ronan seemed to get giddier. He kept looking at the violin case next to Em, his fingers twitching as if he were opening it in his mind.

“Time to change over,” Em said, reaching under her seat where she’d stashed a bag with changes of clothes for everyone in it. They didn’t need to be waltzing into a South Town tavern looking like they’d just come from a high-society event.

Em grimaced as she saw Lelia’s bundle, but she set them aside as she reached for the other clothes.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 12: Resting at Home (Alt Prompt: Baking)

AO3

Prev

Waking up at five in the morning, feeling like you’re surrounded is disorienting. Waking up with a sore throat and shooting pain in her shoulder was also disorienting. Until she remembered everything from the night before. Adrien was not going to be happy. He’d begged her to tell him if she ended up going on patrol with her father, wanting her to be safe. She didn’t tell him, and now she was certain he was going to be angry. Unless she could get back to the hotel before he woke up. But it was still unlikely that he wouldn’t know. Plagg was a tattle tale. Sighing, she carefully gets out of the bed, maneuvering around her brothers’ sleeping forms on the floor. Walking out of the room, she instantly feels anxious. Deciding a glass of water might calm her down, she heads towards the kitchen. 

“I believe you should be resting, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says, making her jump. She winces as her shoulder jostles, trying not to frown at the way Alfred’s lips purse. She knew he was worried. And she knew her family was going to be unbelievably overprotective for the next six months. Or maybe, six years. She’s not exactly sure how protective they actually are. 

“I was going to get a glass of water.” She says softly, pointing to her throat. “I was also feeling a little anxious.” 

“Very well. I was about to start the preparations for breakfast. If you promise to sit and refrain from straining yourself, you may come with.” He says. She grins, immediately falling into step with the man. 

“Could we bake something for everyone for breakfast?” She asks, glancing up at him. “It doesn’t have to be anything too difficult. I mean, I’d prefer to make croissants the first time I bake for them, but there’s not exactly time to do that for breakfast.” She rambles as they walk into the kitchen. Alfred immediately walks over to a cabinet and grabs a glass, filling it with water before handing it to her and raising an eyebrow. She smiles gratefully and sips on the water, relishing in the coolness on her throat. 

“I believe our agreement was that you would sit and refrain from straining yourself.” Alfred says, moving around the kitchen with ease. Marinette huffs but plops onto one of the stools. 

“It doesn’t have to be anything difficult! It could even be….muffins! Muffins are popular for breakfast here, right?” She suggests, flailing her arms, wincing as she does so. It was going to be annoying remembering that her injury was there this time around. There was no Miraculous Cure when her opponent was just a bad guy, not a Miraculous holder. 

“If I allow you to turn on the mixer and place the liners in the tin, will you be satisfied?” Alfred asks with a sigh. Marinette grins and nods. There’s comfortable silence as Alfred moves about the kitchen, measuring out the ingredients. 

“Alfred?” She finally asks, glancing at the man who only hums in acknowledgement. “Who is Slade?” She asks. He pauses, the measuring cup positioned over the bowl. He takes a deep breath and dumps the ingredient in before straightening even more. 

“He was part of the organization that Master Damian grew up in. He’s always hated both Master Bruce and Master Damian. And now, I imagine, you’re also on his list.” He says calmly, clearly looking at her for some type of reaction. 

“So now another villain is after my Miraculous? Joy.” She says sarcastically, pouting as she slumps in her seat. “I was kinda hoping he was just some random guy. Not a legitimate villain.” She adds. Alfred simply shakes his head, sliding the muffin tin and liners towards her. 

“I can assure you, Miss Marinette. Between your father and brothers, this man will not succeed in taking your Miraculous. Marinette frowns, hoping the man is right. 

---

Sitting straight up in bed, Damian tenses. This was not his bed. Blinking, he looks around the room and lets his shoulders relax slightly. He was in Dupain Cheng’s room, of course. She had been attacked last night- He pauses. He frowns as he looks at her pillows, no sight of her. Leaping over his brothers, he knocks on the door for the bathroom attached to her room. 

“Dupain Cheng?” He says lowly, frowning at the lack of a response. He pushes the door open. Empty. So she was missing. She could not have gotten far. And she had to have left of her own volition. No one could have made it past all of his siblings. Leaving the room, he decides his first course of action should be to ask Pennyworth. Judging by the time, he should be in the kitchen. Making his way into the kitchen (his technical ban should not be an issue since he was actively looking for Dupain Cheng), he pauses when he sees the girl he was looking for, slumped onto the island. 

“Ah, Master Damian. Breakfast should be ready soon. Would you care to fetch the rest of your siblings?” He asks. Damian frowns, glancing at Dupain Cheng. Was she okay? Should she really be up and running around after yesterday? She might be one of Paris’ heroes, but surely she wasn’t used to being stabbed?

“Very well.” He says, instead of arguing. He would just have to monitor Dupain Cheng from afar. After all, she did take a sword meant for him. 

---

Marinette sighs, pushing herself off the counter. She wasn’t sure how serious breakfast was for the family, but she certainly didn’t want to scare anyone with her bedhead. Hopping off the stool, she winces slightly. 

“Miss Marinette, I do wish you would refrain from jostling your wounds so much.” Alfred says, a small frown on his face. Mari grins awkwardly. 

“Sorry Alfred.” She apologizes before rushing back up the stairs. She glances into several open doors, suddenly wishing she’d counted earlier to know which was hers. She huffs, prepared to give up, when someone clears their throat. She whirls around, raising an eyebrow at Damian. 

“That room is yours.” He says simply, pointing at a door. “Everyone has vacated your room in order to get dressed in their own.” He adds, turning around and walking into a room. Well that’s new, she thinks, surprised that he’s still talking to her. Sure they talked briefly last night, but she honestly thought it was a fluke. Not that she minded. She really did want a relationship with all of her siblings. After being an only child for fourteen years, it was amazing to have so many siblings. Sure they didn’t grow up together, but she was certain that they could all become close. Walking into her room, Marinette quickly gets dressed in clothes that had obviously been left in there by Cass, since they were much smaller than anything the boys could have worn. Smiling, she ducks into the bathroom to deal with her bedhead, squeaking in surprise as something flies into her face.

“Tikki?” She says, shocked at the way the Kwami flies at her. 

“You could have died! You silly, silly girl! I could have lost you last night, Marinette.” She cries, flying at Marinette’s face and patting her with her tiny paws. And in that moment, Marinette swears her heart breaks. 

“Oh, Tikki.” She says softly, bringing her hands up to cradle the trembling Kwami. “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry, I was with my family. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’m right here.” She reassures her small friend, wincing as she continues shaking. 

“I couldn’t have saved you, Marinette. It wasn’t magic. There would have been no cure. I healed your shoulder as much as I can without disrupting the balance, but it’s still going to take weeks to fully heal.” Tikki says, her big eyes watery. 

“I know, Tikki. But I couldn’t just let Damian get hurt. He’s my little brother, whether he likes it or not.” She says, patting her friend’s head gently before moving to her brush. 

“But-” Tikki starts, pausing when Marinette turns her full attention back to her. 

“But nothing Tikki. I’m okay, you’re okay, and my family is okay. That’s all we can ask for.” She says, going back to her attempts to tame her hair. Her phone, which she had set on the side of the sink, starts buzzing incessantly. Without glancing at the caller ID, she answers. 

“Marinette Dupain Cheng, where the hell are you? Plagg says you left late last night and didn’t come back!” The worried voice of Adrien Agreste leaks through the speakers. Oh, right. She forgot to text him. Oops.

Next

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[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt18

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“And what price are they going to have to pay for your magic?” Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the protective tone in Bruce’s voice as he glared at Plagg. She was beyond relieved that he seemed to be a good person and even her Guardian instincts were calm around him.

“The Miraculous are all about balance. In our case, as true Chosen, they affect us whether we use them or not. That’s why Cass’ life has been so difficult and mine has been relatively calm. Actually being in possession of Plagg’s ring will make things better for her. As for other holders, it varies. The longer you hold a Miraculous the more it pulls out certain traits in you. Good or bad depends on both the person and how in tune with the Miraculous they are.” Chloe’s over protective nature and Adrien’s possessiveness were both likely side effects of being holders but there was no way for her to know for certain.

“So they begin to turn you into a different person?” Marinette was shaking her head before he was even finished. She really wasn’t good at explaining things to other people.

“No. Any traits that the Miraculous bring out were already there. If anything they bring out a person’s true nature so they can’t hide who they really are. My former partner for instance was always showing his best face to the world around him but Plagg’s influence allowed those looking for it the ability to see some of his less desirable qualities. Especially when transformed.” While it made perfect sense that the ring had brought out the things Adrien felt he had to hide from the world, she still felt guilty. She also had to wonder how different his life would have been if she’d found her real Black Cat sooner. Cass burrowed into her side.

“Not your fault.” Marinette just hugged her twin closer. Even if Fu had picked Adrien, as the current Guardian he had still been her responsibility. She’d let her knowledge of his personal life define how she treated him when she should have simply judged his actions as a hero. It had been reckless and irresponsible. She’d put everyone at risk. She felt a vibration at her side and actually laughed when she realized Cass was purring to calm her down.

“Well if I needed any more proof that you are Plagg’s chosen, the fact that you’re picking up cat traits without even having the ring on you would have done it.” Cass stopped abruptly and buried her head into Marinette’s shoulder with an embarrassed whine. Mari just grinned and kissed her temple to try and soothe her. “At least yours is cute. The first trait I picked up was reflex bleeding.” It was a small consolation that Lila had a rash for over a month after grabbing her.

“Do I want to know what that is?” Marinette offered Bruce a commiserating smile. It was a lot to process.

“My skin secretes a toxic substance when I feel threatened. Sadly enough it’s actually helped in battles before. Poor baby August tried to eat me a few times while Akumatized.” Bruce just blinked at her and Marinette could practically hear him thinking ‘what the fuck?’ She grinned at him. “Once you’ve actually been through an Akuma attack, remind me to show you footage of past battles. It will prove educational and quite possibly entertaining.”

“You expect me to be entertained by one of my children almost being eaten?” He sounded insulted at the suggestion but Marinette rolled her eyes.

“No, but the fact that Hawkmoth tends to Akumatize the worst suited people into villains should. The only reason he’s still around is because he’s a coward. If I could find him all of this would be over in a heartbeat. Hopefully with Cass here my luck will keep shifting for the better.”

“I thought you were the one with good luck.” Mari let out a frustrated breath.

“Technically yes. However having the Miraculous active, especially with the ring being held by someone so much less in tune than I am, has been affecting me. It’s gotten better since I added other permanent holders but certain things haven’t improved at all. Also, the Kwami are of the opinion that Cass and I rubbed off some of our luck on each other in the womb. It’s likely the reason she ended up with you around the same time I first became Ladybug. Being together will allow us to buffer each other.” Bruce was still frowning at her but it seemed more contemplative than anything else.

“Cass.” She watched her sister peek at Bruce from her position. “What do you want to do?” Marinette let out an approving hum at the question. She got a strange sense of satisfaction that he treated Cass with such care even though she wasn’t his. He wasn’t as warm as her parents, but it was obvious he did care.

“Stay. Help.” Bruce let out a sigh but nodded. Cass relaxed further and Marinette could feel contentment radiating off her.

“So Selina said you’re a fashion designer?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the subject change. “Since there’s nothing more to be done at present about what’s going on in Paris and it doesn’t appear to be an urgent issue, I would like to get to know you and I’m sure Cass does too.” She felt Cass nod.

“Yes, I’m a fashion designer. It was always what I wanted to do, but my actual start was one of the first twists of fate after I got my Miraculous. I ended up designing something for Jagged Stone and everything just sort of took off from there.” Cass stiffened slightly and Marinette saw Bruce’s eye twitch.

“You’re the designer he’s always bragging about?” Marinette felt her face flush. It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would be familiar with Jagged. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “The boys are not going to leave you alone. Dick, Jason, and Tim have a running bet over who can get a commission from you first. I apologize in advance for whatever happens at dinner.” She laughed at his dry tone and caught Cass’ smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I assure you it can’t be worse than Uncle Jagged himself. He introduces me to all my new clients and I swear it gets more embarrassing every time. I’m fairly certain he practices just to annoy me.” Bruce’s mouth twitched into something between a smile and a grimace.

“Do not underestimate the boys’ ability to be annoying or embarrassing. That’s not even counting the fact that Damian is likely to challenge you to a duel in order to prove that he’s meant to be my true heir and I have no idea what weapons he managed to smuggle on the plane.” Marinette rolled her eyes. Why wasn’t she surprised?

“I take it Talia’s teachings are still strong?” He frowned at her. Oh right, he didn’t know she knew. “When she and Ra’s were in Paris she enjoyed bragging about him and his bloodlines. That’s how I figured out you were Batman. But don’t worry, I can handle him.” The skeptical look he shot her just made her grin. “Trust me. Besides, I just have to prove I’m not a threat to him. Given that I have no wish to take over your business and I have my own hero problems to worry about there’s no reason for him to take issue with me.” Bruce still seemed uncertain but Cass signed something at him and he nodded.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.” While Bruce obviously doubted her, she felt nothing but confidence from her twin. As nervous as she was to meet the others, Damian trying to kill her wasn’t that big a problem. At least with him, she knew what to expect.

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[talkfantasytome]

Heeey, I hope you are having a good day!

If gwynriel, nessian and elucien went to a Hallowen party how do you think they would dress up? What would they look like?

Hi Nonnie! 💕 Doing fairly well! I'm so close! Basically everything is packed except my office, my bed linens, and my shower stuff. It's all getting packed tonight (reason why my sleeping bag is also not packed 😂). I fell SO prepared for the move tomorrow, but also still insanely anxious like I should be doing something. 👀

I love this! My first thought was: witch, Nesta likes to dress as a witch. Basically the exact outfit she was in in that fanart of her, Gwyn, and Emerie as witches (I can't believe I didn't reblog it, if someone sees it or knows it, tag me to it so I can? I need easy access to that beaut), except I see Nesta as more purple over orange. Anyway...

Then I realized you're probably looking for couples costumes, considering the ask. 😂

Gwynriel

Let's remember, this is also our NERD couple. I don't care what people say - yes, Nesta's a dork, and she can be nerd-y, but no, nerd-status goes to Gwyn and Az. Remember how Gwyn memorized the mind stilling for her and Nesta before they even tried it once? NERD. In the most wonderful way.

With that in mind, I feel like they would dress as a couple from history. After a bit of searching, I think maybe they'd go Dante and Beatrice, because that would combine history and literature. And, I mean, Az already has that whole "pining" thing down. 👀

Nessian

Hands down, something that would likely allow Cass to be shirtless or showing off his muscles in some way. Like, part of me wants to say they'd go literary couple, but that feels VERY Nesta-centric. Of course, Cassian is also extremely Nesta-centric, so I'm sure she could convince him. But I think Nesta would want to find something that fits both of them, you know?

I could see them doing a Greek deity theme (though I could also see that with Elucien). My only issue with that is, like, Cassian would obvs be Ares, but that would make Nesta Aphrodite, since she and Ares were long-term consorts. And, Aphrodite was technically, like, married to another god. Zeus and Hera are also a couple Nesta would never agree to. Assuming it's modern times, Nesta would def. read Lore Olympus, so she might suggest Hades and Persephone. But in the togas, for Cassian, so some chest could be shown. lol

Elucien

So, I could also see them going Greek deities, but I think they also would likely go a bit more standard. I don't see Elain being as into Halloween as Nesta and Cassian...and idk about Lucien, tbh. Like, it feels so lame, but I could totally see them going the prince and princess route. And then, just to feel like they fit in with the others, they'd be sure to make it specific prince and princess. Like, with their general looks, they might say they're Beauty and the Beast after the transformation. Or Elain might carry around a silver pea.

OR, omg, cause while idk if I'd see them being super into Halloween in general, I could see them, like, putting on a bit of a show. So they show up as Belle and the Beast, right. And then Lucien has a rose. And throughout the night he keeps discarding a petal. And when the rose runs out, he suddenly "transforms" (aka takes off his mask or quick face wipe 😂), and for the rest of the night he's the human prince.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 6

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

Just remembered I had a plot so oops

Marinette wasn’t stupid. Nino had a brother only a few years older than Robin, and that brother had never acted so young or clingy at Robin’s age (and it surely wasn’t a thing about Robin, because she had yet to see him cling to anyone else). She knew that Robin was just using her to mess with Red Robin.

But she didn’t particularly mind. It was kind of funny to watch Red getting all worked up over his little brother and friend being close. She was glad she had her mask, because otherwise she definitely would have given away the act by this point.

Robin, for his part, had been upping things more and more every time he saw her. She wasn’t sure whether this was because he knew that she knew or because he was testing the limits of what he could do without her saying anything.

Red looked like he was at his wit’s end with Robin held out a hand for Marinette right before crossing a street. She took it, which was when he finally snapped:

“He’s twelve, not five!”

She pulled her face into a mock frown. “Are you saying that twelve-year-olds should get hit by cars, Red?”

Red Robin sputtered.

“Miss Ladybug, why is he so mean to me?” Robin asked with wide eyes. She could see the corner of his lips twitching in an effort not to smile.

She winked. His eyes narrowed just slightly then he widened them back to their wide-eyed sadness.

“I don’t know, sweetie. He’s just a meanie, I guess.”

Red Robin threw his hands up in either anger or defeat. It didn’t really matter which one it was, they counted it as a win.

~

Tim wasn’t surprised to walk into the Batcave one day and see Marinette’s face on the Batcomputer. The only thing he didn’t know was whether she was up there because they had figured out her identity or because Tim had started hanging out with her as a civilian.

He took a long sip of his coffee as he considered this, then he trudged over. Might as well find out.

“Hey guys,” he announced his presence.

He watched Duke out of the corner of his eyes. Duke was the newest of them, he could usually count on him to have more pronounced reactions.

Duke didn’t seem all that awkward. So it must have been them finding out her identity.

Tim sidled up beside them. “Sure that’s her?”

Bruce, never one for using his words when he didn’t have to, held up a small container of blood.

He hummed his understanding and intended for that to be the end of the conversation… but it was getting increasingly hard to ignore the eyes boreing into the side of his head. Tim fought to keep a straight face and unclench his jaw and ignore the stupid ‘d-d-don’t be suspicious’ song playing in his head.

And then Cass tapped him on the shoulder and he cursed quietly.

“Fine. Fine. I knew. Happy?”

Cass was not. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I saw her run into an alleyway and I followed -- obviously, it’s Gotham and alleyways are dangerous -- and she transformed right in front of me.”

She nodded and let it go.

Bruce, however, did not.

“You knew her identity and didn’t think to tell us?”

“I thought to tell you, I just didn’t,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Ah. The Disappointed Dad Stare. He had certainly not missed that.

His grin melted into an awkward smile. “It felt weird to reveal her. She clearly cares about her identity since she hasn’t told us herself yet, I figured I’d respect that as long as I could.”

“... you weren’t making progress on her identity on purpose. God, that makes so much more sense,” muttered Steph.

He shrugged. “Easy to avoid someone’s identity when you know who it is.”

Bruce was still looking at him disapprovingly.

“Don’t worry, I have contingencies,” Tim said.

His father relaxed, finally. He motioned for him to go on.

“Well, a few need confirmation. I still don’t know if her yoyo can be cut and it’s hard to tell if other people can unzip her hood or not. But if the hood is open then The Flash or Superman can easily get the earrings from her -- beyond those she’d just a normal person with some fighting skills, same contingencies as The Arrows or any of us. If not then Green Lantern can probably neutralize her.”

Bruce nodded.

The other kids looked mildly concerned.

“Wait, he has contingencies for us?” Duke said.

Bruce was back to looking dismayed. Tim showed them all where their files were (he wouldn’t hack them for them, obviously, he didn’t want to break the news of exactly how messed up Bruce’s contingencies were). He could practically see all the sweat beading itself on his forehead beneath his cowl.

(Tim hid his smile. He’d finally gotten revenge for the time he’d made him stay inside after The Chloroform Incident. And revenge was sweet.)

… it wasn’t until he started seeing his siblings on the rooftop across from Marinette’s apartment that he thought that, maybe, he should have gotten them into their files. It definitely would have distracted them from the Marinette Is Ladybug situation.

At least Cass trusted Marinette -- she would have slipped up and showed her intentions at least once by now -- and therefore wasn’t likely to come by. Cass would be the one to figure out that Tim coming up to the roof was more than him just checking on his siblings.

The first person that came by was Damian. Fair enough, he’d been around Marinette the shortest amount of time and what little friendship they had was based on his lies.

Now, the youngest sibling sat, cross-legged on the rooftop. He was sketching in his sketchbook between quick glances over at Marinette. He looked up when Tim pulled himself over the side and squinted at him.

“Drake.”

“Dami,” Tim greeted, because it always annoyed his younger brother when he used the nickname. “Having fun spying on Marinette?”

Damian was silent for a few moments before clicking his tongue. “She needs to close her blinds more often.”

“Aw, do you care about her?” Tim teased, reaching over to ruffle his brother’s hair.

He pushed his hand away. “She’s a Gothamite and is therefore under our protection.”

Tim snickered and shook his head, taking a seat beside him on the rooftop. “We can tell Duke about it once everyone else has had their chance at checking her out. He’s the only one that can get away with asking her to close it.”

Damian nodded firmly.

Tim hid the fond smile on his face by diverting his brother’s attention: “So, what’re you sketching?”

Damian’s eyes lit up.

The next person to drop by was Bruce himself. He was sitting there, in all black despite the fact that it was less useful during the day, with full spy equipment.

Tim dropped down beside him and was offered a set of headphones. The two of them stayed there in silence for a long time, listening to Marinette going about her day. She was currently cooking something and singing along to a song:

“I always feel like... somebOdy’s watching meeEe… andIhavenoprivacy~.”

Tim was choosing to ignore the song choice in favor of giggling about her inability to hit the notes. He could feel Bruce watching him out of the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything and neither did Tim.

Next was Steph.

Steph raised her eyebrows at Tim when she saw him.

“Come here often?” She asked in a tone that was only half-joking.

“Only recently,” he lied. “Trying to figure out if any of you trust my judgement.”

“Doubtful.”

“Yeah, Duke is my last hope.”

She snickered and shook her head. “To be fair, you’re whipped. You could have been biased.”

“But I’m not.”

“But you’re not,” she conceded, then turned her gaze back on Marinette. “She’s cute. I approve.”

“Glad to know you trust her.”

“I wasn’t talking about it like that and you know it,” Steph said with a wink.

Tim blushed and pushed her face away. “You’re the worst.”

~

Marinette was having a little difficulty figuring out the not-quite-a-language that the bats spoke with her. She wanted to learn it because she cared about Black Bat and, though she could use ASL, it was clear that she wasn’t comfortable with any particular language… but wow was it hard to learn a language when there wasn’t any actual language involved.

Thankfully, Signal had said he would teach her since he had learned it the most recently and therefore might have an easier time teaching it.

Now, it was just after they had finished their lessons for the day and the two of them were relaxing together between their patrols. He had his head in her lap as they both scrolled through Twitter, occasionally laughing and showing each other the dumb things that the other bats had supposedly done. Her favorite so far was the picture someone had discreetly taken of Robin while he was petting their dog.

And then Signal suddenly sat up straight, eyes so wide beneath his domino that she swore that the lenses were going to pop out.

“Uh --?”

“We need to go,” he said.

She felt his hand wrap around her wrist and now she was being dragged somewhere else --.

There was a rush of air and next thing she knew she was being held just barely off the ground.

She blinked all the dryness out of her eyes and then looked up to see that her captor was none other than Superman himself. He had grabbed both of them and taken them to where the Batcomputer was, holding her by her hood and Signal by the back of his shirt. He looked angry, but not particularly at her. She followed his gaze to where Batman was sitting in his Batchair.

“B --.”

“Batman,” said Batman sternly.

Oh, so Superman got to know his secret identity and she didn’t?

(She was ignoring the fact that Batman’s civilian name started with a B.)

“Batman, what do I have here?”

“Two children?”

“Two. Metas.”

“Technically, Ladybug isn’t a meta. Her powers were given to her by a god that lives in her earrings,” Batman informed him.

Marinette tried not to smile too much. Look at how much he had grown. He was using her excuses now.

Superman’s eyes narrowed. She’d say something about how ‘if looks could kill, Batman would be dead’... but, considering the fact that Superman could kill someone with a single look, it didn’t really work.

“And is the god allowed in Gotham?”

Batman didn’t have an excuse for that one. He just grunted a specific grunt which Marinette had learned meant: “What’s your point?”

Superman also knew this specific grunt, apparently. “My point is that the last time I was in Gotham you put kryptonite in my coffee! You said no metas, and we listened, but now you have two!”

“They’re my kids.”

Marinette blinked. “News to me.”

Signal tried to reach across Superman to punch her arm. Superman was a very wide not-man, so he came up short.

“Do you want to be kicked out of Gotham?”

“Guess I’ve always wanted family here,” she said quickly.

Superman squinted at them for a long time before, finally, dropping them.

“You’re lifting your no meta rule.”

“No --.”

“Yes. If even you’re not going to listen to it, neither should we.”

Batman didn’t seem happy. Superman didn’t seem to care. Probably because he was a good head taller and had far more superpowers than Batman did.

Superman left soon after.

Marinette knew it wasn’t the time, because Batman was back to his Batbrooding, but she couldn’t help the grin slowly spreading across her face.

“So, Dad, can I have the new Xbox for Christmas?”

~

Duke had visited Marinette. Tim hadn’t seen him visit, but he definitely had because Marinette had closed her blinds and they hadn’t been open in days. She was still in Gotham, though, she had gone on patrols and, as far as he could tell, she didn’t have any places in Gotham in her name. She had to still be in the apartment, so Duke must have visited as Signal and told her to close them.

And he should have been happy about this. It was far safer that way. The less people knew that there was a woman living alone in that apartment the better.

… but he couldn’t help but be concerned.

The blinds being closed was his best indication of when she was about to leave or currently not home. He didn’t like that he no longer had a way of figuring that out. How was he supposed to watch over her while she was getting groceries if he never knew when she was going?

He gives her a necklace with a tracker in it the next time he sees her as Tim.

She raised her eyebrows at the box he was holding out to her. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to propose?” She joked, but he could hear the slight wariness bleeding into her tone.

He grins easily. “It’s just to thank you for the outfit you’re making me.”

“You pay me,” she said. “That’s thanks enough for me.”

“Maybe I just feel a little bad about guilting you into making it in the first place.”

She hesitates, but he could see the shiny red gem inlaid in it winning her over. It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t a gold digger, she was a fashion designer and he had purposefully chosen a common gem color so she’d be more inclined to wear it more often. It worked with a lot of outfits and it came from someone she -- hopefully -- considered a friend? There was little reason to say no.

As expected, she gave in.

She turned around and he carefully clasped it behind her neck. He pressed a tiny kiss to the back of her head.

When she turned back around her face was redder than the gem. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her along to the newest attraction.

~

Marinette fell back on her bed with a huff.

“Tikkiiiiiiiii,” she complained.

The kwami slipped out of her purse and came up to float above her face. “Did you enjoy your date?”

“It wasn’t --!”

Tikki laughed at her dismay. Because Tikki sucked.

She dropped the pillow back beside herself and curled up in what had used to be Tim’s jacket (she wasn’t joking when she’d taken it, he was never getting it back).

“Tim better be Red Robin. I’m not doing the whole ‘two crushes at once’ thing again.”

~

You know, there were actually times where Tim felt bad about chipping Marinette. He wasn’t out of it enough to think that it wasn’t messed up, he knew that there was a reason he didn’t want the other bats to know.

And he knew that, if he had to keep his habits from fellow bats, his habits had to be pretty bad. Every single one of them had a tendency to watch over their loved ones from time to time, it just came with the territory of having friends that are a) vigilantes/heroes/Rogues, b) stupid enough to live in Gotham, or c) an unfortunate mix of both. And, really, when you have the entire world at your fingertips it’s hard not to cross a few lines from time to time.

But Tim couldn’t bring himself to care about that line when she didn’t seem to care about her own safety.

She left the house constantly. Tim was beginning to suspect that she’d had her blinds open so often in order to feel closer to people rather than because she liked sunning herself. This would be fine… if she wasn’t leaving as a civilian. Marinette cared about her secret identity almost as much as Bruce did, so he knew that she probably wouldn’t try too hard to escape attackers for fear of them finding out who she was through her very particular fighting style. The bats had drilled her on the best ways to deal with being held at gunpoint and everything, but not every criminal was completely predictable. Bruce’s parents were a prime example of that.

She also had a tendency to take food without checking to see if it was laced. She did it especially when Tim handed her food and, while he liked that she trusted him, he didn’t love that she was as trusting of him as she was.

Marinette had trouble detecting when people were watching her, too. He figured it was just a byproduct of having most of the stuff she did as Ladybug filmed by tv crews and random civilians… but understanding why she was like that didn’t make him any less concerned about it.

Most damning, however, was how she dealt with catcalling.

Tim never felt a need to intervene when any of his siblings got catcalled on the job. He could trust them to tell whoever it was to stop with however much politeness was correct for the situation (usually not that much).

(The only exception was Damian because, unlike everyone else, Damian was still very obviously a minor. And even then the temptation to beat them up was mostly sated by the fact that Damian knew far more nonlethal ways to hurt them than he did.)

But the few times Marinette had gotten catcalled in front of him she… had just very politely asked them not to say that? And, when they didn’t stop, she had just sat there in her discomfort until they were done?

And Tim had done nothing but watch in stunned silence the first few times. It hadn’t been on purpose, he had just… not been expecting it. She usually acted far more confident, usually had some sort of retort on her tongue, why was this any different?

He didn’t know. Both he and Steph had tried to ask but she shut down both times and they didn’t want her to be more upset than she already was so they’d stopped trying.

The bats just silently agreed to check in on her through comms when she was quiet for too long and, if she didn’t respond, head towards her last known location and start looking.

So, yeah, his paranoia wasn’t completely unfounded.

~

Marinette blinked at the envelope Black Bat had handed her.

She turned it over in her hands, wondering if it was some kind of test, but that wasn’t really as much of a Black Bat thing as it was a Batman or Red Robin thing. So, she figured it probably wasn’t dangerous. She still found herself examining it. It was done in an old style, with a rough and slightly yellowed paper, a red wax seal with a pointy hat emblem she didn’t recognize, and ‘Ladybug’ written across the front in gorgeous calligraphy.

“Uh…?”

Black Bat only smiled at her and made a motion to open it.

Marinette hesitantly opened the letter and pulled out more weird paper. It was splattered with something that looked suspiciously like dried blood. In the same elegant script that had decorated the front, it read:

Your spirit has been summoned to my annual Halloween Party!

Dress to kill!

This was followed by a bunch of directions and timings and stuff about RSVP-ing.

Marinette looked at Black Bat, somehow even more confused than she had been before.

Thankfully, Red Robin chose that moment to run down the stairs, waving his invitation excitedly.

He stopped short when he saw Marinette already holding her invitation and huffed, sending Black Bat a halfhearted glare. “I wanted to tell her.”

Black Bat’s smile morphed into a smirk.

“Rude,” Red said. Then, he turned to Marinette. “We got invited to his Halloween Party!”

“Yeah… whose Halloween Party, exactly?”

“Scarecrow’s, of course!”

… what?

[lovecinnatwist]

How do you feel about omega Jason Todd/ alpha Dick Grayson? Maybe Dick didn’t know Jason was an omega until Jason got hit with some of Ivy’s pollen...

GasP Anon what a great idea! I adore JayDick-  Alpha!Dick and Omega!Jason is a bop even if I don’t write it often.

I hope you don’t chaotic mess which is pining!Dick!

Sexuality Crisis Adverted

Tags: Omegaverse, Heat/Mating Cycles, omega!Jason, alpha!Dick 

The moment the dust settles around them Jason knows that he’s fucked. The groan that creaks from his chest is heavy and tight. A side effect- he’s sure- from all the Goddamn pollen. Why couldn’t Poison Ivy chill with it already? It hasn’t worked before and it isn’t going to work now. There’s a series of loud beeps in his ear, signalling the filtration system in his helmet shutting down. Not that it matters when the equipment hasn’t done its job in the first place. He undoes the latches with quick fingers all while Ivy heads out through the giant hole she’s made in the ceiling. 

Not like he’ll let that stop him. The cool air prickles against his face in a refreshing way. It feels wonderful against his quickly warming skin. He tosses his helmet to the side to deal with later. For now he’s got to get that bitch back in jail before she spreads more of the new strain about Gotham. 

He hunts her for what feels like hours. By the time he tracks her back to Robinson Park he’s low on ammo and his heat has finally begun to set in. The familiar cramps and aches make his joints squeak. It’s something he feels more than hears over the sound of whatever Ivy’s latest plan is. He shoots right through another blossom and more dust goes flying. Not that it matters. Even if his heat turns critical he knows exactly how much time he has and it’s more than enough to get her in Arkham. 

A flash of blue and black blurs in the background. His eyes can barely follow the movements between staying focused on Ivy. He dodges two of her attacks and fires. He nearly grazes her but a wall of vines take the hit. He curses and charges forward.

Sharp. It’s one of the benefits of heat. The starling clarity when your instincts are at a fine point does wonders for things like this. Well until the actual fever crashes down and you’re too sluggish and horny to do anything but sleep or get fucked. Jason doesn’t mind either, though with Roy and Kori off-world he’s sure he’s going to be doing more of the former this time around. 

Nightwing makes himself useful and the next time Jason shoots he hits his target. It’s only rubber bullets but her hiss of pain is satisfying. 

The two of them work seamlessly. Which is a feat in itself with the ugly filtration system Dick has on. He looks ridiculous and Jason makes sure to tell him that as soon as he gets a chance. The sound of alpha’s laughter follows him through the air as he performs an effortless flip out of the way. Jason can’t help the quirk of his lips and soon they are putting Ivy away together. 

Not bad for an impromptu team up.

Nightwing hands her off to the police while Jason lays on top of a nearby roof. He’s catching his breath as the fire within him cools a bit. The exercise made him tired but it's a good kind of ache. One that distracts him from the way his lower abdomen curls and unfurls repeatedly. Once he’s no longer struggling to catch his breath he starts thinking it’s time to head back home. 

Soft footfalls land behind him. He scoffs. 

“ What none of the pretty officers down there ask for an autograph? “

He’s teasing mostly but nothing but silence greets him. He pauses and cranes his neck awkwardly to catch the other man’s expression. The wonderment and awe there are foreign.

Dick opens his mouth to speak before closing it. He isn’t wearing that ugly mask anymore so now Jason can easily read his expression. It’s odd considering what a steel trap he usually is. Despite his body's protest he sits up and faces the alpha. 

“ You good? “

He can read the anxiousness in his body language. It’s helpful considering the fact that Dick is absolutely drenched in scent blockers. Jason usually is too but without hood and the impending heat- well he wouldn’t be surprised to be told he stinks. The idea of showering and curling up in his bed with a good book almost makes him purr. Dick says nothing again. He just stands there looking stupid and Jason- well Jason doesn’t really have time for it. 

His bones scream as he stands. The ache is setting in fast but he’ll be good to get home. He’s definitely traveled home in worse states and thanks to Dick he didn’t take too many hits. He stretches and twists, the soft pop in his lower back is gratifying. There’s a slight uneasiness in the air. The longer the silence goes on the more tension starts to form between them. Jason can’t be bothered with it so as casually as he can manage he starts shifting towards the edge of the roof. 

“ So- this has been fun but I gotta go. Need to shower this shit off before the fever sets in. Thanks for the assist. I’ll send my report so tell the old man he doesn’t need to bother- “

“ You’re an omega! “

Jason blinks. It’s probably the worst cut off he’s ever gotten. The lack of tact is new for Goldie and Jason for the life of him can’t shake off his discomfort. If it were another time he would laugh. The stupid way Dick is gawking his hilarious. The alpha smacks a hand over his mouth like he’s trying to keep from saying anything more.

Jason’s eyebrows fly up.

“ Uhhh yea? “

They don’t really talk about secondary genders. Not often or ever really. Sure technically Jason should have a bunch of pack jobs to do but since Bruce hasn’t formally asked him back he doesn’t bother. Cass is pretty good at nest building and caring for the others so there’s never been any need. 

If anything it’s been more of a relief. He’s always been pretty weird about his dynamic. Not because he thought it made him weaker or something. It’s more because the second anyone found out that all 6”2 and 215lbs of him is omega? Well they got this intense kind of look on their face. Kind of like they weren’t looking at a person anymore, more like a piece of meat.

Kinda like- Kinda like- how Dick is staring at... him... now.

The puzzle pieces click together all too slow. 

Dick removes  his hands like he can’t quite help it. His eyes wide in amazement and- huh is it the light or are his pupils dilated? The alpha starts to speak and the words start coming out in a rush.

“ I had no idea that you were an omega- I mean it makes sense- because you’re gorgeous and at first- at first I thought I was gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that- but like i’ve never been gay- like i’m into omegas always have been but then there was you and you just made me think all these things and feel all this new stuff and gosh I was so confused. Now everything makes sense though because now I’m not gay and you’re an omega and you smell good and fuck do you always smell like this? You smell amazing little wing. I hope our pups smell like you. It’s kinda sweet but spicy, like in a good way. Kinda like warm sheets out of the laundry and chai tea- I just wanna roll around in it and get it all over me- I know that’s kind of weird but like I’m a weird kind of alpha sometimes i’m sure it won’t really bother you too much through like I swear I’ll be a good mate and take good care of you and- God is it weird i’m taking so much when I should probably be taking you to nest? I should totally be taking you to nest. God I can’t believe i’m talking so much when you probably just wanna rest. Or well fuck? We could do that too I don’t mind you probably look so gorgeous all fucked and pupped up- I hope it sticks. I know I’m kind old to not have any pups yet but like I feel like I must have been waiting for you and now- “

Jason’s eyes have been growing widder by the minute. Dick’s mouth is still going and his heart is racing with every word. He’s practically babbling to himself. While Jason- Well Jason  is feeling a little frightened. He isn’t even sure how to stop the alpha either but then Dick is walking towards him taking about mating, sex and pups and well- well Jason has to put a stop to it there. 

He takes out his gun and shoots right past the alpha’s face. Dick had been so lost in his words he didn’t even notice Jason take the weapon out. Jesus just where is the alpha’s head at? Actually he knew where the alpha’s head’s at. It’s why he’s currently got his M1911 pistol between them.

Dick shuts up and Jason welcomes the silence with a silent prayer. Moments pass and when he sees the alpha doesn’t move, he lowers the gun a fraction.

He takes a deep breath. 

“ 1. What ever you’re talking about right now?  Isn’t happening. You’re saying a whole bunch I don’t get- but let me be clear. You are not getting anywhere near me, my nest or my vagina. “

Dick flushes at the word. He opens his mouth and there’s a quick ‘ but Jay’ on his lips. It’s kinda admirable but Jason doesn’t have the time. Heat fatigue is on him and the last thing he wants is Dick Graysosn trying to take care of him or- or doing whatever the hell he’s talking about. 

He fires another bullet this time close enough to graze the kevlar. 

“ 2. I don’t know how you apparently missed that i’m an omega but just because I am doesn’t mean we’re suddenly going to ride off into the sunset with me birthing barefoot however many pups you want. That isn’t happening this- “

He waves the gun back and forth between them. 

“ This isn’t happening. “

Dick looks determined and his mouth is in a tight little line. He opens his mouth to speak and Jason raises the gun again. The furrow of those perfect eyebrows is kind of adorable but mostly annoying. 

“ 3. If you even try to come within the radius of my den while i’m in heat i’m going to shoot you, Not in your leg, not in your arm, but right between your pretty pretty eyes. You got that? “

Jason prefers people to pale when he’s threatening them but instead the alpha lights up. 

“ You think my eyes are pretty? “

Jason groans. Alpha’s were such a pain. He never really took Dick to be like a typical one either. He kind of wants to put more thought to it but he can’t when his skin is starting to crawl and itch in a way that’s numbing. 

“ I think you’re pretty irritating, that's what I think. “

The alpha frowns and Jason takes a step back. 

“ Remember the rules Goldie or you might get yourself in trouble. “

He gets a solemn nod. Dick looks troubled as much as he looks confused. The alpha is standing there nodding to himself as if he’s gluing together an invisible puzzle. 

“ Yea- Yea that makes sense. “

Tension eases from Jason’s shoulders but then Dick starts talking again.

“ God I haven’t even courted you and here I am talking about pups and sex like a total knot head. I haven’t given you any gifts or even won any challenges- God talk about stupid. I’ll totally make it up to you Jason you’ll see I’m a good alpha I swear I just need a chance and then I’ll for sure convince you- “

Jason Todd is sure Dick’s lips are moving a mile per minute. There’s also a frantic quality to his movements that look- off but he’s in no shape to be the judge of anyone's state of mind. Maybe he had gotten dosed by something earlier in the night? 

Oh well- that’s a problem for the bats. Jason isn’t having any part of it. 

He hops off of the roof leaving Goldie talking to himself.

Getting back to his nest turns out to be easy which he’s grateful for because the moment he inches through the window is the moment he realizes how tired he is. He practically crawls into the shower. The only reason why he doesn’t skip it all together is because the idea of bringing dirt, grime and pollen into his nest sets his instincts on fire. He bathes thoroughly despite how sluggish and tired his movements are. After all, it's probably the only bath he’s going to be having over the next few days. Besides answering the delivery guy and bathroom breaks he doesn’t plan to do much else. 

Clean and cool he slinks his way to his bedroom, his hair still damp from the shower. He doesn’t have much of a nest going on but the half constructed walls from the other day are at least a base. He pads over to the closet and drags out the rest of his material. His body thrumming with fatigue and need. He knows from experience however that if he tries to sleep in a half done nest he’s just going to be fitful all night and have to do it anyway. 

Better to get it over now. 

He crafts everything together with slow, drowsy movements. One of the edges is a little lopsided but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s got a few things from Kori and a few things from Roy and as usual it all goes seamlessly with the rest of bedding that he kept around the house. He’s got a small pack but it’s his. The soft smell of milk and pup from Lian’s little yellow shirt makes him smile. It’s mute and a little dull but it does the trick. Especially when he keeps everything in the air tight containers Roy made him. 

Nest finished and body clean he crawls into the mess of blankets. It’s soft and soothing against his feverish skin. The contact calms some of the aching that’s been echoing in his bones. He sighs and melts, curling into his pillows as his eyes fall shut. It’s cozy and his and for now that’s enough. He passes out before he can have another thought. 

In the artificial heat, Jason sleeps like the dead. A good nest has always done wonders at keeping him pliant. Something he plans to reap all the benefits of as he takes some time off the streets. He rolls over and stretches, soft fabric wrapping around his ankles. He purrs and nuzzles deeper, a content thrum of safe, warm and happy running through his system. Heat sleep is always some of the most restful.

He basks in the warmth coming from the window, ready to roll over and go back to dreamland. At least he would be if some ass hole didn’t decide to start doing home renovations. 

The pounding sound is annoying. Almost like someone has decided to build an entire Goddamn shelf at whatever time of the afternoon it is. He hisses and buries his head under his pillow. It helps a little until he realizes that what he’s hearing is knocking and it’s coming from his front doors. He groans.

Maybe if he doesn’t answer the person will give up?

They do not give up. 

Jason drags himself out of his nest fully ready to shoot the person on the other side of the door. No one knows about his apartment. He’s always made sure not to give the bats the slightest idea where it is. After all they were too noisy and the idea of any of them being able to show up whenever they wanted gave him anxiety.

He wipes his face and it does nothing to wake him up. When he shouts out a gruff I'm coming the knocking stops. He groans his legs like led as he drags himself to the door. It only takes one peek through the spy hole to see who it is. 

His head falls back and he curses the day the universe decided to tredge his sorry ass back to life. 

“ A bullet between the eyes Goldie. “

He means it to sound more rough and threatening. For the most part though he just sounds tired. He’s gotten enough sleep of course but the demanding furnace of heat is only just starting to burn through his energy reserves. Something about the bodies need to redirect all energy toward reproduction or some shit. Jason always assumed its alpha propaganda but you know what? He welcomes the break because sometimes the only care he gets is from himself. 

“ I brought breakfast? “

Jason winces at the awkward tone of voice. He doesn’t move to open the door and Dick stays quiet for a tense moment.

“ I wanted to apologize for last night and figured maybe we could talk? I got your favourite. Baleadas from that place you like. Add Avocado and Bacon. “

The omega curses. At the mention of food his mouth immediately starts to salivate. With how quickly his heat came on he hadn’t really gotten a chance to prepare. Usually he likes to prep some meals and in the interim order take out. He has to admit that Dick knows him pretty well if the alpha is showing up with food. 

On one hand letting a viable alpha into his home is probably a bad idea. On the other hand he could most definitely take Dick if it came down to it. Decision made he reluctantly starts to disarm the security system. 

“ You try some shit- “

Dick’s worn face appears, take out held up like a peace offering. 

“ And between the eyes I know. “

Jason fixes him with a look and when the alpha doesn’t move he steps to the side to let him in. They head to his little kitchen after Jason shuts the door. The apartment is small enough that they didn’t even go far. He glares at the alphas shoes and Dick is quick to take them off. While he does Jason helps himself to the bags. 

When Dick had said breakfast he had been modest. There are at least three bags. Some with fresh fruits, some with expensive bougie chocolates you can only get up town, Baliedas of course, fresh made guava juice, heat pads, electrolyte drinks and a variety of cramp medicine. He rolls his eyes and digs through a little box that Dick pushes onto the table as he fidgets next to an open chair. 

Jason raises an eyebrow before grabbing the box and flipping it open. A happy trill leaves his lips before he can stop it. He pulls out a semita the smell of sweetness and cinnamon filling the kitchen. Roughly pulling out a chair he takes a seat, his mouth watering before he even takes a bite. When he does he moans happy and light as flaky pastry melts on his tongue. 

God had to be from Aliana’s. Shit was perfect. 

He scarves down one quickly, licking his fingers before reaching into the other bag to pull out a warm balieda in aluminum foil. The food is so good he completely forgets Dick is even there. For the most part his mute alpha scent is blocked away which makes it easy to ignore him. Well except for the soft smiles and what the man must think are sneaky looks thrown his way. 

He gets half way through his second semeta when he finally looks at the alpha who is sitting in the furthest possible chair. 

“ So- we gonna talk about last night? “

Dick has the decency to flush. His color darkens in an interesting way. Jason doesn’t ever think he’s ever seen him like that before. He chews slowly and the alpha groans covering his face in his hands. 

“ Was testing a serum with Alfred before we got the call about Ivy. It’s a new formula and didn’t seem to be working, didn’t kick in until we were half way done. “

Jason makes an understanding noise. It’s a good thing they got things done quickly but still Dick probably shouldn’t have been out compromised like that. He takes a straw and pops it into one of the juices. At the first sip his entire body flutters with alertness. There’s just something about sugar during his heat that could raise him from the dead. 

“ What the hell were you doing out with that stuff in your system? What if you got caught or something. “

The way Dick looks down and his blush travels to his ears is very telling. Suddenly the words from last night return to him. 

‘ at first I thought I was gay ‘

He blinks. Oh my God. Dick actually had a thing for him. Even when he for some unexplainable reason thought he had been an alpha. A part of him is actually flattered that the bone head would jump into the fray to give Jason back up. Not that he needed it but still the gesture had been nice. 

Now here he is, at Jason’s apartment, bringing him breakfast and things to help him with his heat. The scent of insecurity leaks through what must be industrial scent blockers because Jason can barely get a whiff of anything else. He hums low in his throat and blue eyes flicker up to his. Jason tries to read what he see’s there but Dick’s gaze drop down again. 

“ Thought you could use the help. “

‘ More like you wanted an excuse to see me ‘ Jason thinks.

He leaves the alpha to stew instead tucking away the new information he has. Now that he’s full and rested he can actually think a bit clearly. Dick isn’t a bad looking alpha. His skin is a gorgeous gold color that blurs the line between ethnicities. The contrast of his vivid blue eyes almost makes him look like they are glowing. His teeth are straight and he’s got a great smile with plump lips that will probably be nice to kiss-

Jason’s also seen enough of Dick coming in and out of the showers to know how crazy the alpha’s body is. All hard lines with battle scars and marks that make his inner omega sing. Something dark and dangerous wants to push and see how his marks would look amongst the collection. He sips his juice in silence, mulling over the possibility. 

Warmth pools in his stomach, waking up the first tendrils of arousal for his heat. Dick’s eyes look up and he swears he can see the alpha’s nostrils flare. He smirks and then laughs when Dick looks mortified to have been caught blatantly scenting him. 

“ Well this has been nice. Thanks for breakfast Dickie but you should probably get going before my fever flares up. “

When the man stands Jason’s eyes trail down his figure. The alpha jumps under his attention, skittish and shy. 

Not bad, not bad at all. The hunter in him purrs. 

“ Yea- sure totally glad I could help. I’ll just be going. “

The stuttering of his words is cute. Unlike the night before when Dick had basically been vomiting words, now he’s shut like a clam. The difference is endearing. Jason stands and Dick stumbles back. 

“ I uh… hope your heat goes well. If you need help, just call and i’ll do my best to get here. “

Jason fixes him with a look and the expression of sheer horror that crosses the alpha’s face is worth the drama. 

“ Not like that- just like food or whatever? Like if you have cravings or something. “

Dick stumbles over his words but the recovery is smooth. Jason watches Dick putting on his shoes. He heads back over to the plastic bag on the table.

“ Uh huh. “ 

He makes a show of stealing one of the wrapped candies and twisting it out of the foil. Dick’s eyes stare and his fingers. The blue follows, follows, follows until he brings it to his lips. Jason grins as he sinks his teeth in. 

The helpless way the alpha swallows him gives him a thrill.

“ Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out. “

Because now that he’s looking- what an it is.

Dick gives him a terse nod before turning and twisting the knob. He tilts his head as the alpha leaves. When the door click shuts he gives a sound of appraisal.

Yea, Jason wouldn’t mind hittin that. 

After the impromptu visit he starts scheming. 

First, he finds out the ingredients of the serum. It turns out to be a pesky little thing that blurs the line between a person and their instincts. An attempt to make their truth serum recipe stronger. Some shady shit Bruce probably shouldn’t even be dabbling in. But then again it seems like it's okay for the line to blur as long as no one dies. 

He scoffs, tossing his tablet down. 

Focus- no wasting his heat thinking about Bruce. Not when Dick is clearly a better subject matter. He purrs low as warmth pools in his belly.  Reading the report made one thing clear. As frantic as the alpha had been, he had also been genuine. 

Luckily Jason doesn’t even have to do much to get the man to visit again.

His heat fucking drags.

Sure he’s usually quite long but this- this is just too much. Enough that Dick goes out of his way to drop food outside and leave it for him to find. The first time it’s a surprise but by the third- well Jason is opening the door before the alpha can run away.

He looks decadent in his Richard Wayne civies, smelling like expensive cologne and wearing something soft. The dark blue of the scarf brings out the lightness in Dick’s eyes. While the dark grey sweater hugs the man’s muscles in all the right ways. It’s nice to see all of his face too. The way the alpha’s features stand out in the plain hallway is almost overwhelming. Or at least it would be if Jason hasn’t been spending the last 5 days obsessing over him.

He decides to press his luck. Technically he could get away with at least this much, he is in heat after all. He smiles as he accepts the bags, making sure to brush against Dick enough to scent him. The quick little intake the alpha does is precious. It’s subtle of course but with how Jason’s heat stink is practically visible in the air Dick looks like he’s been smite. 

For seven entire minutes the man is stun stationary at the front entrance. It’s almost comical how long it takes him to recover. Jason’s already eaten an entire carton of nasi goreng and an egg roll.

Dick excuses himself under the guise of being late, his cheeks pink. The alpha nearly goes head first into the door frame in his embarrassment. Jason has to bite back his laugh. He busies himself with licking sweet and sour sauce off of his lips as the man retreats. The thought of ‘how cute’ doesn’t leave even when the food is done. 

It shouldn’t be this easy to fall for him. The clumsy way Dick goes about things is so different than anything he’s ever had before. Bless his sweet shy heart but the alpha is anything but assertive. 

In fact it reminds Jason of a romcom. When the male lead is obviously in love with the protagonist and everyone can see it except for him. It sort of feels like that. Though the more Dick tries to cover his tracks the more Jason finds neon signs of tender affection and desire. 

It’s courtship. 

He doesn’t know if Dick realizes it yet, but Jason’s sure as hell accepting it. The thickly drawn line he put down in the beginning is starting to edge away. Every little gift, every text message, every fleeting glance is chipping away at it until it disappears.

When leaves his curtains open a sliver at night, he can catch the alpha guarding his apartment. 

Now logically it could be seen as platonic. After all, Pack mates were meant to watch each other’s backs- especially during heat and rut. Jason hasn’t been there for any of his pack members' cycles, and in turn he never takes it personal when they haven’t been there for him. 

Now that he has it though he never wants it to stop. 

The next day when Dick stops by, Jason spills something on the alpha’s shirt. It’s an excuse. Something that a league alpha would see through. Dick however is absolutely oblivious and Jason takes great pride in making Dick leave in one of his. Stinking like possessive dangerous omega and in exchange he adds the alpha’s shirt to his nest. He also adjusts it to make it big enough for two.

It smells amazing and he sleeps with his face in it. 

Jason enjoys every moment of his heat. He soaks up the attention the alpha lavishes on him earnestly. On day 10 he actually finds himself saying a little thank you to Ivy. His heat isn’t nearly as strong as a usual one but the symptoms are still obvious enough that he has to stay shut in. It gives him more time to iron out his plan of action. Well it’s less of a plan and more like throwing himself at the alpha and taking and having until he’s full.

He purrs thick and heavily. The rumble is so dark it’s almost like a growl but Dick looks completely unbothered by it. He doesn’t mind most things Jason has been learning. The alpha doesn’t shame him for being taller and wider than him. He doesn’t make Jason feel like less than himself, or less than others in his caste. He’s just nice, oblivious but nice and Jason- well Jason has never had that before.

He licks cannoli filling off of his fingers while sneaking a peek at Dick. 

Jason has to hand it to him. He’s doing a pretty good job and pretending to pay attention to the movie. There’s no way he is though. Not with how Jason’s apartment smells like safe, happy, wanting omega. Not with the way Jason is making sure Dick knows just how comfortable he is with him in the room. 

Dick’s scent is mute because of the blockers but that doesn’t mean much against enhanced senses. He can still smell the brief wisp of indulgent pride at providing for him.

The delicious italian food is spread out of the low coffee table like a feast.

One thing Jason could say for certain, the alpha knew how to eat. The baliada’s had only been the beginning. Dick’s brought him some of the best goddamn food he’s had in a while. There’s been slow cooked ribs with all the fixings. A 4 cheese pizza with truffle oil, spinach and grilled chicken with fresh gelato for dessert. Then of course the handmade pasta they’re having now. 

Absolutely perfect and only a fraction of how the alpha has been spoiling him. 

He even made it a point of giving Dick a few challenges of his own. Simple things that he slowly increased the difficulty on. The first day he had asked for something elementary. A blue blanket. Nothing too hard because he just wanted to see if the alpha would. Then- 2 hours later he had the biggest, softed blue blanket that he’s ever seen. Adding it to his nest had been soothing to his instincts. 

Next he asked Dick to take over a case of his. Nothing with a time limit of course but the alpha took it anyway. He used all the information Jason gave up and two days later the bastards dealing to the middle school up north were in black gate where they belonged. That alone had been good- but Jason… Well Jason wanted the best. 

That’s what led him to this little idea. He’s got the most recently released rom com on screen, Dick’s soft blanket over them while he lounges on the couch with nothing but a thin white t-shirt and a pair of sweats that fit him in all the right way. Before Dick had come over he made sure that the place had been absolutely coated in his scent. Which had been kind of easy with how much his heat tends to stink up places. 

He leans against the alpha and feels him stiffen up against him. It’s minute but the man quickly relaxes when Jason purrs soft and sweet. A gentle sound made to relax alpha’s whether they wanted to or not. He shifts and feels Dick’s eyes drop to his chest. He feels hot knowing that the alpha can clearly see his nipples through his top. 

The movie drags on and Jason enjoys torturing the alpha. 

It’s dainty touches at first, just to test the man’s reactions. Simple and frequent enough that he’s sure the alpha knows he’s doing it on purpose. 

So what if he wants to cop a feel off of the alpha who’s courting him? It’s his right. 

He curls into Dick’s side, surprised how his body fits in the curve of the alpha’s arms. His breast presses against a bicep. A purr starts to build in his throat.

“ Movie’s good. “ He lies. 

The alpha grunts the affirmative. It’s obvious that he isn’t able to pay attention. To be truthful Jason would be insulted if he could. After all he’s purposely pumping out a perfume of sweet, wanting, waiting omega that must have Dick dizzy. 

Still the man doesn’t push and Jason’s heart pounds in his chest. 

They reach the end of the movie and Dick seems too quick to get off the couch. Jason stretches and lays down his entire body relaxed and warm. The last bits of heat are whispering out of him which he’s glad for. It means he has more energy and more than that- that he can’t be accused of being compromised. 

He hums as Dick straightens up the leftovers on the coffee table. He’s so diligently good that Jason just needs to reward him. He bites his bottom lip peering up at the alpha through his lashes. Slow and purposely he runs a clothed sock up the inseam of Dick’s black slacks. The way the alpha tenses and stumbles is equal part adorable as arousing. 

Blown blue eyes look at him and Jason’s purr grows. 

“ C’mere. “

Jason is pretty sure he didn’t let any sort of command slip into his voice. It had been nothing but a soft honest call but the way Dick just- lets everything fall to get back to him did things to his ego. Dick stares at him helplessly. Eyes struggling to stay on his face, but darting down to his lips, chest, thighs then back up in rapid succession. Jason sinks into the couch, the soft rumble in his chest merging with the credits on screen. 

“ ‘m feeling a little restless. Would you scent me before you go? “

Jason tilts his neck up, demour and willing. When he cuts his eyes at the alpha he’s sure there’s mirth in his gaze. He can’t help it however. Not when Dick looks like he’s about to short circuit. Almost like the only gravity in the room is Jason and if the alpha takes his gaze away from him for a moment he’ll be floating towards the sun. 

Huh, his heat must be cooling off if he could think up that metaphor. 

The alpha swallows not moving. Jason watches his hestitance gleefully. He knows what he looks like. The hard lines of his body posing in an open and friendly gesture. A wanting gesture that would have a weaker alpha already on their knees. 

Jason smirks, He can practically hear Dick’s heartbeat pounding in his chest. 

“ Sure Little Wing, yea I can do that. “

He can but he still hasn't moved. Jason would snort but he doesn’t want to give away the game too quickly. He wants Dick to move on his own. To see how the alpha will genuinely act if Jason leaves himself open and vulnerable. 

Instead of his neck, Dick lifts his wrist and uses it to drag up and down the smooth expanse of Jason’s throat. Jason’s purr crescendos to the point where it almost hurts. His vocal cords vibrate as his chosen alpha rubs his scent all over him. It’s mute because of the patches- but still undeniably Dick. 

Jason’s eyelashes droop. His entire body is warm content and happy. Dick stares and him and the omega stares back. 

“ I should probably go…. The movie was good, thanks for suggesting it. “

Jason didn’t watch a goddamn thing and he’s pretty sure Dick didn’t either. 

“ Anytime Goldie. “

He means it. The two of them bask in silence, the title screen flicking back up as the credits roll to a close. No one says anything so Jason is content to leave things where they are. He has all the answers he needs. 

“ See you around. “ 

Sooner rather than later? He wants to quip. He holds his tongue however. Patience. Tip your intentions too early and your prey will get away. League lessons ring true even now. He feigned nonchalance while nodding at the alpha.

“ Sounds good. Bring Sushi next time “

There’s nothing left for Dick to prove. Jason has already made his decision.

The alpha smiles soft and sweet. His entire face lightening up at the promise of another meeting.

“ Sure Little Wing. “

Jason grins. 

How clueless and naive. The poor thing had no clue that next time actually meant eternity. 

[theladyofdeath]

The Ranch {3}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: We thrive on all the beautiful comments you send us about this story. It’s been one of our favorites to write! Enjoy. xx

The Ranch Masterlist

Warning: mature content 

Nesta’s back was pressed up against the wall by the door and Cassian’s hands were cradling her face. His lips were devouring her, and one of her hands was tangled in his loose hair while the other was exploring the expanse of hot, tanned skin that his open shirt left exposed.

As his lips broke from hers, he leaned back slightly. He breathed, “Please tell me that was an offer. Please, fuck, just-.” He let go of her face and grabbed her ass, pulling her against him and letting her feel how hard he’d become. “I’ll back off if it wasn’t and I read the play wrong, but fuck, I want you, Nesta. I’ve wanted you since the moment I walked into the main house and found that perky, little ass in the air cleaning out the fridge, throwing away my beer, and just generally throwing a wrench into my life.” He gripped her ass tighter, making her gasp. “And I think you want me, too.” He dropped his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin between words. “Please.” Kiss. “Please.” Kiss. “Please.”

Nesta responded with fiddling with the button of his jeans until they became undone. Her cheeks were flushed as she whispered, “Don't be gentle.”

Cassian leaned back, slowly, until his eyes found hers. They were ignited, dazed, completely wild. 

His breath was hot against her skin, smelling like sweet bourbon. 

The length of him pressed up against her thigh was nearly her undoing, alone. It had been so long since she’d been with a man, and the man in front of her was six-foot-five of unadulterated beauty.

Steady hands found the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head. Beau had made himself scarce as Cassian dropped the thin piece of fabric to the carpet. Her bra was unhooked, expertly, Cassian’s eyes never leaving hers until it was gone, then they trailed to her breasts. Nesta’s breathing hitched as she watched his eyes trail down her body and she was grateful for the alcohol to control her nerves.

It was the alcohol that put them in this position in the first place, but Nesta couldn’t bring herself to care as his mouth started at her neck, and started trailing lower and lower.

His lips closed around her nipple, followed by his teeth, and he tugged gently. A quiet moan tumbled from her and her fingers tightened in his loose hair. He pressed himself into her harder, and pulled back, his lips a breath away from her own, and breathed, “Nesta, I-.”

A loud buzzing from across the room interrupted him and all at once, Nesta realized what she was about to do, who she was with, what she was - or better yet - what she wasn’t wearing. “You should get that.”

He shook his head. “No, I can call them back.”

It was clear his mouth was about to return to its former spot and she knew if she let Cassian’s lips touch her skin again, they wouldn’t leave anytime soon. So she firmly pushed against his chest, attempting to unwind his legs from where they were wrapped around him like a vice. He gripped her tighter, holding her tighter against him. She had to stop herself from moaning as she felt his generous length pressing against her neglected sex.

She didn’t give herself a chance to hesitate, knowing if he kept rubbing her lower back like that, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from having him.

She placed a hand on his chest and pushed again lightly. “It might be about one of my sisters.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out through his nose. But he nodded and her feet once again touched the floor.

He turned and crossed the room, heading for where he’d left his phone on the kitchen counter. Before he even reached for it, he knew it would be the group chat between he, Az and Rhys. Sure enough, the chat had ten unread messages and he glanced through them quickly. It was exactly what he expected.

Azriel and Elain had left shortly after Cass and Nesta, stopping in the parking lot at Rhysand’s truck. Feyre had yelled at Elain for keeping Nesta’s arrival from her and ambushing her until they were both in tears and Rhys and Azriel were left picking up the pieces.

Cassian prayed that Nesta wouldn’t ask what the texts were as he quickly typed out a reply that they had made it home and he’d talk to them tomorrow. She’d be destroyed if she knew Elain had cried because of her. She’d be pissed if she knew Feyre was the cause.

But he didn’t have to worry about that. Because after he put his phone down, he turned, ready to pick right back up where he’d been with the beautiful storm of a woman who had blown into his life.

Only to find that the door was wide open and she was gone.

____________________

Nesta woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and memories from the night before that she wished to forget.

The moment she walked into the bathroom, just after nine, she cringed.

She looked as bad as she felt. 

After turning on the shower, she stripped herself down and stepped into the warm water. She was mortified. Not that she wanted Cassian in the first place, because any woman would, but that she let it get that far. It was inappropriate, to say the least.

Aside from the fact that she had known him all of two days, she was technically his boss. She may not have paid him, but, through their agreement, he had to do whatever she asked on the property. Crossing that line, even once, was a gross overstepping of boundaries.

After her shower, she popped two aspirin, not even drying her hair before she threw it in a loose bun atop her head, and knew she couldn’t put off the day any longer. She walked up the path towards the main house, the red paint of her car standing out against the old, muted wood. She paused and looked at it, noticing the beauty in the image. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, unable to stop herself from turning back to look in the direction of the cabin.

Please tell me that was an offer.

Nesta turned on her heel and continued up the stairs and into the house. She took up her normal place in the kitchen, this time on her hands and knees, trying to bring what little life she could back into the old wood floors.

I’ll back off if it wasn’t and I read the play wrong.

Nesta ground her teeth as she dunked the rag back into the soapy water.

It wasn’t that he read the play wrong, he read the play exactly right, down to the way he kissed her and touched her and the way his voice flowed across her skin.

And it had been so long since a man had appreciated her so. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed it, said it meant nothing to her.

But lie she would, because anything else would be the downfall of her father’s legacy, and she had disappointed her father enough.

She sat back, tossing the rag into the soapy bucket as her back hit the cabinets. She pulled up her knees, dropped her face into her hands, and groaned.

It was all a mistake.

One big fucking mistake.

Nesta had no idea what she was doing, no idea what she had truly gotten herself into. A month ago, she had been living her dream, and now, she was back in a town she had tried so hard to leave, only upsetted her sisters with her presence, nearly slept with a man under her employment, and was on her hands and knees scrubbing at floorboards.

But this was it.

That was her new reality, because she had sold everything else. This new, shitty life of hers was all she had left.

The knock on the front door snapped her out of her pity party and she stood, wiping her hands down her baggy t-shirt. She glanced down and saw tiny dots where the blue fabric was darker than the rest. Nesta wiped her face, not even realizing she’d let herself cry, and headed for the door.

She pulled it open and found three uniformed delivery men on the other side. “Nesta Archeron?”

————————

Cassian noted Nesta’s little car, sitting by the house across the way from his cabin before he trekked up to the main house. It had been a long day. Hot as hell, and a long to do list. By the time the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky, he was exhausted.

But his frustration kept him going.

He couldn’t let himself sit, couldn’t let himself relax, because when he did, all he saw was Nesta, pushed up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his body, topless. 

And how she left without an excuse or a goodbye.

Which simultaneously pissed him off and made him feel like an idiot.

He needed to go for a ride. Nothing helped clear his mind more than riding through the pastures after a long, hard day.

Stopping in front of the shed behind the house, he reached into his pockets for his keys and remembered that they were still on the table by the recliner. The recliner that he would always see her sitting in, her legs tucked under her, chin propped in her hand, somehow looking cute as hell and sexier than sin at the same time.

He swore and headed for the back door of the main house, praying that she hadn’t gotten around to “cleaning” the laundry room like she did the fridge. Warm or not, beer was beer. He’d drink it.

As he got closer, he noticed a light on in the kitchen, but with the blinds pulled shut, couldn’t tell if anyone was in there. Her car sat in front of her house though, so he figured he’d be all alone.

When he lightly jogged up the stairs and threw the door open, he was hit the most amazing smell of his entire life. He also found out that he was very, very wrong.

The kitchen looked completely different than it had just that morning. Stainless steel appliances had replaced the ones that had been there for as long as Cassian could remember, including the little fridge that had now been replaced with a fridge bigger than anyone should need. And standing in front of the stovetop, stirring something in a massive skillet, was Nesta.

Whose shoulders tensed the moment Cassian shut the door behind him.

“What the hell happened in here?” he muttered.

Nesta didn’t turn to face him as she said, “It’s been updated.”

Yes, it had. Not only were there new appliances, but a new, bigger, longer table sat where the old one used to. It was a high top, made of dark wood. One of the stools alone most likely cost as much as the last table.

Considering Isaac had built the last one himself.

Cassian wanted to grab her by the shoulders and pull an explanation out of her, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Looks nice.” I guess, he added, inside of his mind. He thought the kitchen looked nice before, though, too. 

“What’re you making?” he asked, when she said nothing.

Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a long, deep breath. “Food.”

Fine. Cassian could take a hint. He stalked down the hall and went into the laundry room. Apparently she hadn’t made it there yet, thankfully, so Cassian took the key to the shed off the hook and grabbed a beer out of an already-opened box and popped it open before walking back into the kitchen. 

He didn’t want to tiptoe around this, didn’t want to drag this out any longer than he had to, so he leaned a hip against the cabinet next to the stove and looked at her.

She either had very little or no makeup on. He had no idea she had the lightest of freckles scattered across her nose. Her hair was loosely piled on top of her head. She wore a ratty t-shirt, something scrawled across the back in French, and ripped jeans. He had never seen her look so raw. Never seen her look so beautiful.

When she finally looked over at him, those stormy eyes, eyes he’d nearly drowned in the night before, were like stone. “What.”

The bite in her voice hurt in a way he wasn’t expecting. “Where’d you go last night?”

She turned back to the skillet, flipping the large steak sizzling in it to its other side. “I realized it was extremely inappropriate for me to be there, so I remedied the situation.”

Cassian blinked. “Remedied the situa-? Nes, I turned around for thirty seconds and you disappeared.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “We hardly know each other.”

Cassian opened his mouth to say something but words escaped him. The night before, even before they had made it back to his cabin, Cassian felt like they had made a connection. Now, he had no idea what was going on, had no idea what was going on the second he turned around to find her gone.

“Okay,” he began, slowly. “Did I offend you in some way?”

She dropped her spatula, only to rub her temples. Her eyes fell shut. “Look. I’m your boss, okay? Last night was inappropriate.” 

Cassian blinked. Out of all the things he expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them.

“Inappropriate,” he repeated. Nesta turned and crossed the kitchen, picking up a knife and chopping herbs - on a kitchen island that definitely hadn’t existed that morning. She didn’t say anything, just ran her knife through the greenery with expert technique. “You’re saying you don’t want to be with me because it’s inappropriate?”

She grabbed a garlic clove from her cutting board and smashed it with the flat of her knife. “Yes.”

He took a drink from his beer and sat it down. “Because you’re my ‘boss’.”

Nesta pretended he hadn’t used the air quotes when he said boss and used her knife to move the garlic and herbs to her awaiting skillet. She didn’t look at him as she turned and sprinkled it over the steak. “Yes.”

“And it’s not because you don’t want me to fuck you?”

As she turned to him, it occurred to Cassian that he maybe should have waited until she wasn’t holding a knife to ask her that.

To his pleasure, she slowly set it down atop her cutting board. She remained silent.

It wasn’t until Cassian took a step toward her that she spat, “I was drunk. People do stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said, stopping on the other side of the island. 

He leaned against it, on his elbows, and she scowled. “Get your filthy elbows off my countertop,” she said, in a venomous quiet. 

Cassian cocked his head to the side. “Not until you answer my question.”

Nesta didn’t say a word.

“Because last night,” Cassian went on, “you were begging me.”

Nesta lifted her chin. “I was drunk.”

“Drunk people often are the most honest,” Cassian shot back, grinning.

Her expression didn’t change. “Did you need something?”

He held up the keys. “Needed the spare keys to the shed. Wanted to go for a ride since I didn’t get one last night.”

“You’re a pig.” She turned back to her skillet and though she was clearly dismissing him, but he didn’t move.

“You said it had been two years, Nesta. I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m just suggesting we have a little fun.” Her eyes slipped closed and she sighed. He pressed onward. “I’m not even saying anything long term, just a little release and-.”

“That’s not how it works for me,” she said, cutting him off. “You may be able to fuck whoever you please, but I can’t do that.”

“You’re a grown ass woman,” Cassian said. “You can do whatever you want.”

“Are you done?” She asked, exasperated. “This conversation is over, so unless you need something else, fuck off.”

Cassian simply lifted a brow. “You’re my boss. It’s inappropriate for you to use such language with me.”

Nesta was fuming. “Get out, or our deal is off and I will fire you.”

“You wouldn’t,” he pushed, eyes not leaving hers for even a second. “This whole place would go to shit without me.”

“Try me,” she spat. 

At last, Cassian's smile slowly faded and his eyes turned hard. He wanted to say a million things, but all of them faded away. Cassian had a feeling she didn’t say things just to say things. She was dead fucking serious.

Cassian pushed himself off the island and Nesta’s eyes followed him as he took a step back, jaw locked, and gripped the keys in his hand as he trailed back toward the door. He stopped, though, before reaching for the handle. 

After slowly turning to meet her gaze, Cassian said, “And to think I thought your own sister was wrong about you.”

He pretended not to see the flicker of pain in her eyes as he opened the back door and let himself out. 

[danny-chase]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Stephanie Brown Characters: Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson (mentioned), Tim Drake (mentioned), Damian Wayne (Mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned) - Character Additional Tags: Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, 2009 Batfam vibes, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, talks about the batgirl mantle, Cass comes home to Gotham, technically she's Cassandra Wayne in this, but idk if people use that tag, Girl Talks, possibly romantic, no beta we die like Cass, POV Cassandra Cain, Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown centric, mentions Gates of Gotham, you don't need to read it though, Cass comes home from Hong Kong, sorry Bruce is dead folks, takes place in Dick!Bats era, sliding around in socks, a wee bit of fluff, Cassandra Cain gets a hug, Stephanie Brown Gets a Hug, because i think they should hug, romance or not, late night conversation between besties Summary:

Cass has a surprise visitor after returning home from Hong Kong. She hasn't been in Gotham long, a lot's changed, but there are still people here she's happy to see.

Cass glided through the halls of the penthouse; the floors were perfect for sliding around in her socks. Though, ‘halls’ was being generous, she supposed. It was large, the rooms were spacious, but there were only two hallways. So much smaller than the manor. Less rooms, though more people, and plenty of space to fit them all.

 She could hear the chatter from the kitchen. The boys had decided to play a board game before she’d gotten back for the night. Dick wanted her to join in for the next round, but she found those games a little boring, and she wouldn’t fall for Tim’s puppy dog eyes tonight. But… she was tempted. It was a collaborative game, they’d explained. You don’t fight each other, you work together. That part, she liked.

She brushed past Tim’s guest room, which was slowly becoming more permanent. The door was cracked open, and she peeked inside. Neat and tidy, with trinkets lining his desk and shelves. Tim had changed a lot; his room was never this clean before. On a hunch she poked her head around the door. Behind it sat a mound of dirty clothes, just next to the bathroom door. Smiling to herself, she noted the mess of products on the sink. He’d changed, but not all the way.

 Damian’s door, she found closed all the way. Tim said he liked privacy, so she moved on. Dick’s door was wide open. The room was empty, aside from a messy bed. Hers was the same.

 At least she thought her room was empty.

 As she approached, she heard something moving inside, or someone. Whoever it was, was light on their feet, not very large, in the range of 120-150 pounds, and a bit anxious. The door was closed. She thought for a moment, and swiftly threw the door open, without making a sound.

 A blond girl in jeans and a green sweater stared out the window at the night sky.

 “Stephanie?” She recognized. The girl jumped and swiveled around.

 “Cass?” A joyous grin broke out across her face, though her shoulders stayed tense and anxious. They quickly strode toward each other and met in the middle of the room. Steph’s hands twitched, reaching up, as if asking for-

 Cass buried Steph in a hug at the realization. Steph laughed, giggling at her enthusiasm, and squeezed her back tightly. “I missed you.” They said at the same time. Steph laughed again in delight.

 They parted, and Steph sat on the edge of the bed, Cass following suit. She still looked a bit nervous but radiated happiness as well. They sat there, staring at each other for a moment. Cass smiled, also a bit anxiously, but eagerly, she hadn’t seen her oldest friend in forever.

 “Are you back for good?” Steph broke the silence. Cass nodded, she’d decided, after the gates of Gotham case, to stay. The family had fallen apart after Bruce had died, but she was ready to give it another shot, and so far, things were going well. Board games, movie nights. ‘Team bonding’, Dick called it. It had only been a week, but she’d gotten a turn to pick already. Rooftop tag. It was fun.

 “Things are good.” She replied. Damian was starting to trust her, and Dick and Tim were happy. And well, she was happy too. She loved having her own city, but it’d been lonely. Spending time with people was exhausting, but her family made it easier somehow.

 “That’s good.” Steph replied. Not a lie, but she still looked anxious. A thought flashed through her mind.

 “You’re not happy I’m home?” She asked quickly, her heart sinking at the notion. Steph’s eyes widened in surprise.  

 “What? No! Cass, I’m so happy you came back.” Not a lie. Cass sighed in relief, she didn’t want anyone to be upset she was back.

 “Then why are you nervous?” Steph’s hands were fidgeting slightly, hadn’t stopped since they’d met.

 “Huh, I’m not- Okay never mind.” Her shoulders dropped sheepishly. “I can’t lie to you, can I?”

 “Nope.” Cass popped the p, just like Steph used to whenever they talked before. No one could lie to her. Well. Almost no one.

 “Okay but… promise you won’t be mad.” She looked serious. Cass nodded slowly, watching as Steph pulled a box off the corner of the bed and carefully opened the lid. Her old Batgirl costume was inside.

 “Why would I get mad over that?” She gave the suit to Steph after all, she had her Black Bat suit now.

 “You let me borrow it and I ruined it!” Steph’s voice was guilty. Cass looked at the costume again. Bullet holes and tears marked it.

 “Are you okay?” Cass asked, those were a lot of holes.

 “Ugh, none of us deserve you.” Grateful. For what? Cass tilted her head to show the confusion. “I thought you would be mad because you can’t use it anymore. I thought you would want it back.” Cass shrugged.

 “I have a new suit now.” She assessed. She didn’t really care what she wore. Besides, if she wanted another Batgirl costume, Alfred could make one.

 “Don’t you… want to be Batgirl again?” Steph sounded concerned, but Cass wasn’t sure why.

 “I’m always Batgirl.” Cass stated. She thought for a moment. “Like Tim is still Robin.” It didn’t matter what they called each other; they were still them. “And you’re always a Spoil-sport.” She grinned smugly at the pun. Steph rolled her eyes, but she was amused.

 “Well, you can be Batgirl if you want. I kind of miss eggplant.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and the corners of her lips twitched up into a smile.

 “It’s a good color on you.” Cass agreed.

 “How about, we both be Batgirl, and we can switch costumes, and no one will know who’s coming.” Stephanie grinned in excitement. Cass grinned too. It sounded fun.

 “Deal.” She flopped back on her bed. Steph followed suit. “How was Gotham?”

 “It’s been wild. It’s different, you know.” Cass hummed in agreement. “I’m in college now, that’s going well. My mom’s working as a nurse. I mean, you’re right, things are good. It’s just… different.”

 “Batman and Robin.” Cass noted. Steph sighed.

 “Yeah, I mean it sucks Bruce died, but Dick’s doing great. And Damian’s coming around.” Steph shifted, turning to face her. “I’m sorry he died, I know he just adopted you, that must suck.” Cass took a deep breath, watching sympathy pour out of Steph’s baby blue eyes. It did suck. Her chest panged in regret, wishing they’d had more time together. But she didn’t want to focus on the past.

 “Yes.” She thought for a moment. “I still don’t understand.” She confessed. Butterflies swirled in her stomach, she didn’t want to make Steph upset, but she needed to know. “Why did you leave?” It had hurt, felt like her world was ending. It had hurt Tim too, and Bruce. Steph grimaced, she was clearly uncomfortable, rolling back, she faced the ceiling once more.

 “I was mad at first. I didn’t really choose to go.” She admitted. Cass understood, she’d been made to do things she hadn’t wanted to do before. It sucked. “But it was good too. It took time to heal.” She pointed at her head. “Up here too.”

 “You hit your head?” Cass had been shot in the head once. Wasn’t fun.

 “No like. I needed to think things out. Get in the right headspace.” She shook her head, not really understanding.

 “Why’d you go to Hong Kong?” Steph asked. She thought for a moment.

 “It hurt. To be around people.” She wasn’t sure how to describe it. She couldn’t stay in the manor. It was painful to be in the Cave. She never bled, but her chest had always ached, and something felt stuck in her throat. So, she left. And being alone hurt too, but in a different way. Steph looked at her sympathetically.

 “That’s why I stayed, thinking about coming back hurt. I was scared, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just… didn’t know what to do.” Groaning, she rolled over again. “It’s a mess.” Regretful. But a little hopeful. “Can we… still be friends?” The hope made her heart flutter.

 “Yep.” She agreed. Steph smiled, warmly, like the sun.

 “Thanks Cassie.” She didn’t really understand what she was being thanked for, but as the nickname rolled off Stephanie’s tongue, she felt more at home than she had in years. They lay still, enjoying each other’s company for a while longer.

 Eventually, Steph sat up, hopping off the bed. “Alright, let’s go do something fun kay? How bout we go kick the guys’ asses at Just Dance.”

 “Wait.” Cass walked over to her suitcase. “I got you something.” She pulled out a box. She’d collected things, from everywhere she visited. Picked up things that reminded her of family. She hadn’t really planned on giving them away, but now she had the real people, she didn’t need them anymore. She pulled out a purple ‘Lucky Cat’.

 “Oh my gosh! I love it!” Steph cradled it carefully in her hands. “Cass this is so sweet, I love it.” Cass beamed; she liked it too. And she made Steph happy with it, maybe it really was lucky. Steph smiled wider, clasping her hand and dragging her out through the hall, running so she could slide behind her on the perfectly slippery floors.

 And so, with whatever luck the cat could grant them, they were on their way to kicking butt at Just Dance. As the night wore on, laughs grew louder, and Cass was reminded again, how things had changed, but how change wasn’t always bad. The penthouse wasn’t as big as the Manor, and Gotham wasn’t as big as Hong Kong, but with her family, somehow her life seemed larger, and fuller again.

 Things could have turned out better, but they could have been worse too. And they would get better. Much better, as long as they all stuck together. There would be more difficult conversations to be had, but it was reassuring, knowing that after all they’d been through, she still had her best friend by her side.

[lovelyirony]

“Let me help you.” for Clark and Bruce please?

i’m making these rounds of prompts au so i present: new neighbor au (note: i know next to nothing about the bat fam pretty pretty please do not kill me i’m begging) 

Bruce Wayne already hated moving into the house, although the house itself wasn’t particularly bad. Jason and Dick were already fighting over who got the corner room (they didn’t know Cass had already started to set up a vanity there) and he had already heard at least one bad crack from a kitchen box. 

But it was fine. 

This did not explain why there was a strange man in his house, talking to Jason as if this was a regular occurrence. 

“Who are you?” Bruce asks bluntly. “And what the hell are you doing in my house?” 

“Dad!” Jason hisses. “This is our new neighbor, Clark Kent. Be nice.” 

“It’s okay, I technically did come into the house without his knowledge,” newly-named Clark Kent admits. “I’m sorry, I just noticed that your son was struggling with a box labeled ‘dishes’ and figured it’d be better to help than to schedule a trip to the store for more plates.” 

He was right. This was the problem. 

(This guy was also ripped, had on a pair of thick, black frames that somehow looked good, and looked like he probably ripped logs in half when he was bored.) 

“Thank you,” Bruce says curtly. “But I think we have it from here.” 

He hears a yell from the yard, and it’s Dick and Tim fighting over a box that got dumped over. 

Inside is the office computer, which is now not an office computer but scraps for one of the kids to use for some project that hopefully isn’t world domination. 

(It’s not like Bruce can’t replace it, it’s just that...well he doesn’t want to go monitor shopping.) 

“Let me help you,” new-neighbor says. He’s too damn earnest. 

“I’m fine,” Bruce grits out. “Believe me, I can handle it.” 

“You just moved in with more kids than I think I’ve seen, it’s been a long day. At least let me make you dinner.” 

“Please?” Duke asks. 

Clark gestures as if saying “I was right.” 

“Your cooking kind of...sucks.” 

“It’s not that bad.” 

Jason pokes his head out now to yell for pizza. 

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Dinner is fine. Thank you. It’s not necessary. You will spoil my kids. But thank you.” 

“Um...how many are exactly in your family?” 

“Shoot for ten, that’s probably good,” Duke says. 

To his credit, Clark only blinks once. 

“Gotcha,” he says. “Dinner will be ready in two hours, give or take. I have a...store trip.” 

Bruce slips him cash. 

“Here. I know it’s a pain. You can back out of it or order pizza. If you order pizza, that’d probably work.” 

“Pizza sounds good. I’ll get pizza. Any allergies?” 

“Don’t put mushrooms on it!” Cass yells out the window. “They suck!” 

“No they don’t!” Damian yells back. “You have no taste!” 

Clark grins. 

“I think I’m gonna like having you guys as my new neighbors.” 

- 

Clark thinks his new neighbors are fun. He can sometimes hear yelling and the boys are chasing each other around the kitchen. They practice what looks to be a game of tag but with consequences in the backyard. 

Their father is very interesting. He leaves the house at five each morning for work, and Clark only knows that because he’s on a run every day with Diana, who is also as insane as he is. 

“He looks nice,” she says, craning her neck. 

“Way to be obvious,” he comments. 

“Like you aren’t,” Diana says, laughing. “Catch up to me before I lap you again.” 

Clark rolls his eyes. “Fine.” 

“When was the last time you dated?” 

“You know the last time I dated,” he responds. “I’m fine with not dating.” 

“And yet I think you’d actually want to date a man who has what seems to be an infinite supply of children,” Diana responds. 

“You make it sound creepy.” 

“I can’t keep track of them. I keep seeing new ones.” 

Clark tells her all about the kids. How he sometimes talks to Tim about school over the fence, or he’ll bring over dessert since Cass mentioned no one knows how to bake besides Alfred, but Alfred retired. 

(Note: find out who Alfred is.) 

Who he doesn’t talk much to is Bruce. Which is odd, considering he knows that he’s home quite a bit. 

(Windows are clear, you see things through them. That’s his reasoning.) 

Bruce is a very interesting man, because he’s always out with the kids throwing around a ball, or taking at least one of them around the neighborhood learning how to drive. 

(Clark is scared for Cass to actually have a car she’s run over about seven different mailboxes.) 

It’s when he gets his doorbell rung and standing there is Duke and Damian. 

“You’re coming to family dinner,” Damian says. “We figure we owe you for always climbing your fence to get the baseballs and for sometimes probably keeping you up until two a.m. because we’re debating on food.” 

“I’ve learned much about pineapple on pizza,” Clark says. “What time should I show up? Do you guys want dessert?” 

“Dessert would be great, and dinner is at six-thirty,” Duke says, grinning. “Still remember those lemon bars you made. Best things I’ve ever had.” 

“I’ll bring some over then,” Clark says, grinning. 

- 

Unofficially, the kids have noticed that their dad needs someone. 

Well okay he doesn’t but occasionally he looks at their neighbor a second longer. 

(Tim did the math.) 

So Clark gets invited to dinner. Besides, they’re tired of simply talking over a fence. And Alfred suggested knowing at least one neighbor just in case one of them got in trouble and Bruce was away on business or the like. 

Bruce does not know that Clark got invited to dinner. 

Or that he can actually casually wear t-shirts. 

(He wonders if he tailors his t-shirts.) 

“What are you doing here?” He asks. 

“Was I...not invited?” Clark asks. 

“Oh, you definitely were,” Dick says. “We decided to be neighborly. We followed Alfred’s advice, Dad. You know how good that is.” 

Bruce knows he cannot argue against Alfred. 

“Welcome,” Bruce says. “I hope they didn’t badger you into bringing another dessert.” 

(Oh let it be known Bruce is a liar, he was hoping for a dessert.) 

“Duke requested lemon bars, so I had to fill a need,” Clark explains. “Thanks for letting me crash your dinner.” 

“It isn’t a problem,” Bruce says. “Tim, go get another chair.” 

“Why do I have to get the chair?” 

“Damian, go get the chair.” 

“I am hated in this family,” Damian declares, getting up from his seat. “But I’ll go get it.” 

“I appreciate you!” Clark calls, navigating through the kitchen easily. “Mind if I set the dessert down?” 

“Not at all, let me squeeze past you to get the water glasses.” 

Okay so maybe Tim scoots his chair back and Bruce is used to just moving out of the way and avoiding getting the back of a chair shoved into his stomach but then he runs into Clark. 

“Sorry!” he says. 

Bruce is against his back. 

“It’s fine,” he says, straightening himself up. “Tim, quit moving your chair at ill-opportune times.” 

“Sorry,” Tim says, looking not-sorry-at-all. 

Bruce sends him a dirty look. 

Damian shows up with the chair, grinning. 

“Sorry about the kitchen, tends to be a hard-to-get place with all of us. Anyways, water?” 

Bruce hates his kids. They are not slick about anything. Cass cannot look him in the eye without smiling. 

Clark is oblivious. 

Dinner is...good. Better than good. Clark is surprisingly good with dry humor, and entertains the kids with stories of his greatest journalism feats. 

(Bruce is impressed.) 

He also handles the sheer volume of kids with a certain amount of grace. He listens carefully when Tim’s talking, even when Jason yells over him for someone to pass the dessert. 

After dinner, Clark is invited to the backyard porch to have a drink while the kids play outdoors. 

“You do a nice job,” Clark says. “It must get pretty crazy, all by yourself.” 

“It can be,” Bruce admits. “Although the kids have grown up enough to know when they need to quit it. Mostly. Sometimes they still fight about things like ice cream.” 

“The great flavor debate,” Clark nods. “Your stance on chocolate chip cookie dough.” 

“Oh god, you’re that guy?” 

“It’s the superior flavor!” 

“That is the most boring answer you could’ve given.” 

“And what is your answer?” 

“Peppermint.” 

Clark stares at him. 

“What?” 

“So you only have ice cream, like, once a year?” 

“Sure. Don’t really like any other flavor.” 

Clark shakes his head. 

“Not mint?” 

“Mint is still good, but not the best.” 

“And your stance on the lemon bars?” Clark asks. 

“I hid some in the fridge so I could get more,” Bruce admits. Clark laughs. 

Bruce likes the sound of that. He likes how Clark looks under those stupid fairylights that Duke and Cass had snuck into the cart when he wasn’t looking. (They looked good, he had to admit.) 

He looks away for a moment. 

“It’s getting dark,” Clark says. “I have an early day tomorrow, I better head home.” 

“Feel free to come any time,” Bruce says, nodding. “I mean that.” 

“I get the feeling you never say things you don’t mean,” Clark answers. 

Bruce smiles slightly. 

“How’d it go?” Dick asks. 

“Do not ask me.” 

(That means it went well.) 

- 

Clark comes over to the house a lot more after that, as well as having the Wayne family over to his. 

Lois makes fun of him when he has his phone background a picture of him and the family in the backyard for Tim’s birthday. 

“You need to marry in,” she says. “Enough of this.” 

“We’re just neighbors.” 

Lois starts humming music from The Sound of Music and Clark gives her a look. 

“You still need to meet your deadline by tonight!” Lois calls back. “I know you can do it!” 

He sighs, turning back to his desk. 

Tonight was his turn to host dinner, and it was all of them. He still had to leave work early (if he could) and get the makings for the rest of the meal. 

Dear Clark,  Duke mentioned that you have an upcoming deadline at work. I am aware this could impede your timing for tonight’s dinner. I am going to the store with Cass. What do you need for dinner?  From,  Bruce Wayne. 

Clark snorts. Bruce always texts like that, no matter who it is. He texts his own kids like that, no matter the circumstance. 

Thank you, Bruce. I need one more pound of ground beef and some drinks (juice and stuff like that.) I will pay you back when you get back. 

Dear Clark,  Payment is not necessary. All of my children have subjected you to debates about “pineapple” and “government conspiracy theories.” No problem.  From,  Bruce Wayne. 

“Why I’m attracted to you, I have no idea,” Clark mutters, rolling away from his desk to get another coffee. 

- 

“You should get him flowers,” Cass says, looking at the bouquets lined up. 

“Why?” Bruce asks. 

“People like flowers,” she says. “And they’re used when you like someone.” 

Bruce slowly swivels his head. 

“Would you like to pretend that I never heard you?” 

“Not really. You’re the one grocery shopping for our neighbor that’s your type and refusing payment.” 

“How do you know what my type is?” 

“When Tim and Jason get bored it gets bad.” 

“Remind me to rescind talking privileges in-house.” 

“Noted, but disregarded. We need gummy worms.” 

“We do not need gummy worms.” 

They still get thrown in the cart. 

And now Bruce is nervous for a dinner that is literally just a dinner but maybe he should get flowers. 

He gets sunflowers. Because Clark is a Kansas boy and roses are overrated anyways. 

- 

Clark gets flowers from Bruce,who by all means looks quite flustered. 

“They’re wonderful,” he says, smiling. “Cass help you pick these out?” 

“Nope, his idea,” Cassie says, digging into her pockets. “I bought gummy worms.” 

Clark blinks as she steps off to go see her brothers. 

Bruce winces. 

“Sorry if that’s a bit...forward. I figured you’d like the sunflowers.” 

“Not too forward at all,” Clark says. “In fact, I’d like an after-dinner conversation, if you don’t mind.” 

Bruce blinks. 

“Um. Yes.” 

That is the first time he had ever said “um” in Clark’s presence, so this is a pretty momentous occasion. 

Dinner is still nice. Bruce is a bit lost in thought and Clark has to refocus in on the conversation of Dick bitching about his new floor routine and the coach who’s making it impossible to practice. 

The kids have enough sense to offer to either a.) go work on homework or b.) do the dishes. 

Clark leads Bruce to the backyard, sitting on the patio furniture. They overlook his garden. 

“I don’t know why I kept the fence,” Clark says. “Not like anyone’s to the right of me, and your family comes over often enough we don’t really need one. Wanna help me remove it?” 

“Is that what your after-dinner conversation consisted of?” Bruce asks. 

“No,” Clark says. “But I needed to say something else so I got courage to say what I want to say.” He takes a breath. 

“Bruce, you are without a doubt the strangest man I have ever met. You send text messages like you’re sending business emails, yet you always participate with Jason’s internet dances and even, on occasion, help prank other siblings. You pretend like you never know anyone’s interests but you have gotten me my favorite jam at least once and make the kids’ favorite desserts for dinner. 

“Furthermore, I think I am incredibly in love with you because you look nice in suits and you got me sunflowers because you know I like them. You are also one of the best people I’ve ever met. So I would like to take you on a date.” 

“A real date?” 

“As opposed to what, taking you to a meeting with my journalism team?” Clark asks. 

Bruce smiles softly. 

“I am joking.” 

“Nerd.” 

“Where is the date going to be?” 

“I figured we actually go to that restaurant we always order takeout from instead of ordering enough for twenty people,” Clark teases. 

“Sounds good to me,” Bruce says. “We’ll need to not tell the kids or they’ll want to spy on us.” 

“Obviously. What day works for you?” 

“Wednesday?” 

“We both tell them it’s a late night at the offices, start without us,”  Clark says, grinning. 

“I can’t wait.” 

- 

The date goes quite well. The kids are very sad to have missed it, although they make sure everyone knows that they were the ones who set the two up in the first place. 

“You have to say it in your wedding vows,” Dick says. “I was the one who planned it.” 

“I was the one who pushed my chair!” Tim yells. 

Cass rolls her eyes, shares a look with Duke. 

Bruce shakes his head. 

“You are not getting credit for Clark asking me to go on dates with him, Dick. You get credit for not unloading the dishwasher this morning, however.” 

“Ugh.” 

Damian snickers from his position on the couch, and gets a flowering look from his older sibling. 

“Where’s your date tonight?” Duke asks his dad. “Going somewhere special?” 

“Maybe,” Bruce answers. “It’s Clark’s turn to choose. I never know with him.” 

(He knows. They’re going to a farmer’s market. Barbara Gordon also knows this and has told Jason, who finds it hilarious that his dad, who usually is very Stern and Serious will be pulled into conversation on different strains of heirloom tomatoes.) 

[sybright]

My Favorite Cats Ships

Okie dokie, @whitmerule wanted to know my main ships/pairings and I knew I’d have to make a post dedicated to this at some point so here it is lol (also sorry this is so long). My “main” universe, which is what all of my main pairings are in, is based on the ‘98 film for the most part (although really all of my universes are based on the ‘98 film, just with alterations here and there). 

Edit: My preferences have changed somewhat, so I’ve edited this list to reflect my current feelings towards certain pairings. This means that I’ve deleted some pairings that I don’t like much anymore, and have added some new ones :). All of these ships are in no particular order btw.

Main Pairings:

Tuggoffelees 

-I know it’s super popular and there’s loads of content on them, but I still stan. I don’t love them AS much as I used to, but they were my first ship in this fandom, and therefore are still very important to me. 

Demebombastrap 

-In terms of individual pairings, I really like Demelurina and Bombastrap on their own, but I like them best all together. I used to be quite fond of Demestrap by itself, but I’ve gotten pretty tired of that ship over time personally (obviously nothing against people who like this pairing a lot, kudos to y’all who love Demestrap ^^), so I’m not that big a fan of them on their own anymore. In order of the individual pairings I like best: Demelurina first, Bombastrap second, and Demestrap not so much.

Skimblegus (Skimbleshanks/Asparagus Jr., NOT Gus the theatre cat, I see the two of them as separate characters in most productions).

Jellydots (Sweet lesbian grandmas <3).

Tumblejem 

-This is my self-projection asexual pairing, leave me alone lol. They give me bestie vibes and I love that for them <3.  

Platoriateazer 

-This is a bit of a rarepair, but it is one of my main ships, I see Teazer and Plato as platonic partners and Tori as their mutual gf. Alternatively, I like Victeazer and Platoria on their own as well, although I like Victeazer a bit more than Platoria, but I prefer them all together.

And that’s about it for my “main” pairings, here’s a list of my alternate pairings/rarepairs that I love too much for my own good.

Alternate Pairings/Rarepairs:

Demandra 

-No longer my main blog’s url, but they have their own blog now and therefore are still ridiculously important to me XD. This is my fave rarepair, and might also be even MORE of a self-projection asexual pairing for me than they were before. I’ll say it once, this is my ultimate comfort pairing. 

Plonzostrap (Plato/Alonzo/Munkustrap, alternatively, I like Alonzostrap and Plonzo on their own as well, although I haven’t put that much thought into Munklato on its own).

Platoricopat (Cats Zurich got me obsessed with this concept, and @whitmerule’s gifs are are just *chef’s kiss*).

George/Etcetera/Electra 

-I don’t really have a ship name for this, and also this particular pairing is very complicated and I’ll try to explain it as best I can. George and Etcetera are romantic partners, Etcetera and Electra are queer-platonic partners (I see Electra as aromantic), and George and Electra are platonic partners. This is technically a main pairing for me, but it’s sort of rare and complicated in its dynamics so I put it down here. Also, I adopted the hc that George is a Pollicle btw.

Oh and just as an aside, I also really like Elecctera and Etceorge on their own, but I probably slightly prefer Elecctera, I just love the queer-platonic besties vibes of them <3. 

Mungocavity (This is in a scenario where Macavity is less evil and more of a dumbass, but I really like this pairing. It would be one of my main pairings if my main universe Macavity wasn’t complete shit).  

Jemtoria

-One of my newer ships, I usually see Tori and Jem as being somewhat far apart in age, so this is in a scenario where Jem’s a bit aged up and Tori’s a bit aged down. I love everything about this pairing. Considering how much Jem and Tori interact with each other in the show, this ship has so much potential to me. They’re just so soft and they make me really happy <3. 

Tuggoffeleteazer

-Once upon time I didn’t think I’d ever ship Tugger or Misto with really anyone but each other, but times change. Initially, I got very interested in the idea of Rumpletugger (which I still quite like on it’s own), but then later became intrigued by the idea of Mistoteazer (and all the shenanigans they’d get up to, both being mischievous and chaotic), so of course this led to me just putting all three of them together XD. I love this trio so much, they just give “bestie vibes ONLY” type of energy, and feel like a super chaotic friend group, and that makes me really happy. 

Bombbella

-I’m not even sure how to explain what led me to becoming so attached to this ship XD. I had seen people mention it being a neat concept in passing, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who actually truly ships them. I basically got into this ship through my “Jellicle leader Griz” au thing, which is an au where Griz is the oldest of Deuteronomy’s children and was expected to become the next Jellicle leader. She’s much younger in this au than how I typically see her, so the newer Griz design fits well in this scenario. I just got really into the idea of Griz and Bomba being tragic ex-lovers. 

They dated for a long time in their teens, broke up for a few years, and then got back together again when they had matured, and then Griz went and abandoned the tribe (as well as Bomba) to see the world and pursue her dream of being a star. Griz returned eventually, but the damage had been done, and Bomba was far from ready to forgive her. In the end though, she does forgive Griz, as does everyone else, but then Griz goes on to be reborn, and they miss their chance at happily being together. It’s just all in all a really fun concept for me to play around with, and has so much angst potential. 

Jellycass

-Not a new ship, quite the opposite actually. This is a ship that I usually don’t think much about (hence why it wasn’t here when I first made this list), but whenever I do, I always feel at peace inside lol. I can’t for the life of me find the post that got me into this ship (trust me, I have searched ALL over tumblr for it, I looked through both Jellylorum’s and Cassandra’s ENTIRE tags and still couldn’t find it), but I saw a post when I was first getting into the Cats fandom that talked about how Jelly and Cass would be this sort of “odd couple” that the tribe didn’t really understand, but clicked super well with each other for some reason. 

Even though I only ever saw that one post on them for a long time, I grew really attached to the ideas it presented for Jellycass. I like the age gap concept in particular, with my personal idea of it being Cass in her late twenties to early thirties, and Jelly being in her late thirties to early forties. It really heightens the “odd couple” energy of them, and I can see Cass getting along really well with someone older. Troika provides me all the rights for this ship <3. 

Some Extra Stuff:

Even though I like Platoria as an individual ship, and ship them to a degree, I’m not super interested in them. They’re a bit bland for me if I’m being honest. I like seeing them on my dash, but I won’t actively seek out content of them, so please don’t tag me in stuff surrounding them if you don’t mind (obviously this doesn’t apply to their poly equivalent). I used to include Demestrap in this section, but now I’m really not all that fond of them, I really only like them together in a poly scenario, like Demebombastrap or even Demelonzostrap. 

There’s a bunch of ships that I categorize as “I like it, but I don’t ship it,” and that’s where ships like Munkujerrie and Alonzoffelees fall. They’re ships that I enjoy as concepts, and that I would probably read fanfic about if given the opportunity (and like fanart of), but I don’t necessarily ship them. So you don’t need to tag me for them. 

The only ships that I just straight up don’t like, although I have nothing against people who like them, are Tuggerlurina, Mistoria, Skimbledots, and Jellygus, Tuggerlurina being the one I dislike the most. I just scroll past content of them if I see it on my dash, I thought I should probably list them here cause idk, might be useful to @whitmerule to know which ships I really don’t like. 

Note: I don’t see any of the characters I listed here as being biologically related, some people hc Deme and Bomba as sisters, or Etcetera and Electra as being twins, I don’t see this personally (In fact I have a whole bunch of family hcs that I’ll probably save for another post, if anyone even wants to read that lol). 

And now for my favorite 2019 movie pairings (which I also don’t see any of them as being biologically related), because they’re sort of relevant since I’m listing pairings and stuff so I feel like putting them here too:

2019 Movie Main Pairings

Mistoriastraps 

-This is the ONLY scenario where I like Misto and Tori together. I only like it when it’s in the 2019 movie, and only if it’s with Munk, those are my two requirements lol. I think Munktoria and Munkoffelees are really cute too, but I don’t care for them that much, I like them best all together.

Demandra (I see their relationship very differently in the movie, and I prefer their stage-show relationship, but as always, I love them). 

Tantojerrie 

-I know they don’t really interact in the movie, but I saw people talking about them as a ship on here, and I just think they’d be really cute. Technically Tanto is implied to be kitten age in the movie, but I imagine this as a post-movie, next Jellicle Ball type scenario. I see Tanto as being on the cusp of adulthood, where she’ll probably be an adult at the next Jellicle Ball, and I see Jerrie as being a very young adult, so they’re not far apart in my mind (plus I see Jellicles, being cats and all, aging differently than humans, so this isn’t as odd to me as it might be to other people).

2019 Movie Alternate Pairings:

These are just my alternate pairings for Misto, Tori, and Munk if Mistoriastraps doesn’t happen lol:

Tuggoffelees

-I’ve adopted the hc that they’re ex-boyfriends in the 2019 movie, and I like to imagine that they’ve sorted things out post-movie and got back together.

Victeazer

Skimblestrap

That’s about it for my ships. Thank you for reading if you got this far lol. 

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part ii

Here’s part ii! Please reblog and send your thoughts, I love hearing feedback! I was doing a ton of research on American immigration law, and it doesn’t look like Canadians technically need a visa for most work circumstances, but I’m taking it as a matter of artistic license.

https://slapshot-to-the-heart.tumblr.com/post/615257287896989696/flatbush-atlantic-part-i

part ii

October 5

“Mat, I’m in the middle of a meeting,” Chris said, glancing up at him with a bemused-yet-slightly-annoyed look on his face. 

Mat looked over at Cass, ducking his head and sheepishly tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Oh, yeah. For sure. I’m sorry, I should have knocked, but I got this letter, and. Yeah. I shouldn’t have interrupted, that was rude. I’m sorry.” Cass couldn’t help but let out a snicker at his rambling, and Mat turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. He held out his hand. She took it. “Sorry about that.” His cheeks colored. “I keep apologizing. I’m Mat Barzal.”

“Cass Cabrera Shaw,” she replied. 

“Cass is our new intern, so you’ll be seeing each other around. Hopefully not too often.” Chris said, nodding to where she sat in front of him. 

“I got the job?” Cass asked, her head jerking back to look at Chris. 

Chris nodded like it should have been obvious. “Cassidy. You’re more than qualified, you know the sport, you understand the responsibilities. You go to a top 5 law school. Yeah, you’re hired.” She blinked, still trying to take it all in. Chris turned to Mat. “Okay, Barzal, you’re up. What’s wrong?”

Mat scratched his neck. “Okay, so I know I should have looked into it sooner and taken responsibility for it. And I do, I mean, take responsibility for it. It’s just, I was in Vancouver for the summer and then vacation and then training camp and—”

Chris cut him off. “Barzal. What is it?”

“I missed the deadline for my visa renewal.” That sounds familiar, Cass thought ruefully. At least she wouldn’t be alone in her dumbassery.

Chris put his head in his hands.

Mat held up a hand. “Wait, it’s not as bad as it seems, I promise.”

“Try me.”

“I called whoever’s in charge, they left a number on the letter—”

“State Department,” Cass said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her hair when Mat looked back at her, a hint of a smile on his face. 

He nodded. “Thanks. Yeah, them. I called them and explained the situation, and they agreed to give me an extension.”

Chris cleared his throat. “And by ‘the situation,’ you mean…” He trailed off. 

“That I was an NHL player who wasn’t in the country when they sent reminder letters. I might have used the Commissioner’s name once or twice.” Mat said sheepishly. 

“And we all know how much weight Gary Bettman’s name carries with American immigration policy,” Chris deadpanned. “Okay, give me a second to think how we’re going to get this done. How much of the forms have you filled out?”

Mat flipped open the folder he had brought, scanning the pages. “Most of it.” At least he’s not entirely hopeless. “There were a couple things I wasn’t sure about, and some new stuff that I don’t remember from last time. I figured it was better to bring it in than try to submit it on my own and get it all horribly wrong.”

“Thank God for that,” Chris said, giving a half-smile. After another minute or so of thinking, he raised his head and looked to where Cassidy was still sitting, straight across the desk. “I saw on your transcript that you’ve taken several immigration law classes. Any fieldwork?” Chris asked. 

Cass nodded. “Yeah, there was a clinic run by the school that reviewed visa applications and other paperwork for recent immigrants, I volunteered there for a few months.”

“Good. How familiar are you with O1 visas?” He asked, looking in between Cassidy and Mat. 

“For extraordinary capability? I’ve studied them a little, I know that’s the kind that most NHL players are obviously on but I’m not an expert by any means,” she said.

Chris tapped his fingers on the desk, seemingly lost in thought, before his eyes flickered between her and Mat. “Okay. You’ll be running point on Mat’s visa renewal.” Cassidy’s face blanched. “It’s mostly done so it shouldn’t be too hard. But between you and me,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at Mat, “I wouldn’t trust this boy to fill out the paperwork to adopt a goldfish, so make sure you double-check everything he wrote in. Come to me or Richard with any questions, but I really do think you’ll be fine. Got it?”

Cass jerkily nodded her head, still trying to fully process. In the span of the last ten minutes, she had gotten a job that she thought she had no chance for and had been put in charge of a very delicate, very expensive, very important set of immigration paperwork for Mat Barzal. Mat Barzal, the 2018 Calder Trophy winner. Mathew Barzal, the future of the Islanders. No pressure. 

“I should probably give you my number,” Mat said, pulling out his phone and holding it out to her. She looked at him with confusion, head tilted to one side. Mat’s face flushed and he rushed to clarify. “Like for the work stuff. In case I have questions about the visa or you need me to translate my chicken scratch for you.”

Now it was Cass’ turn to blush, gently taking his phone out of his hands and navigating to the messages. “I’ll text myself, that way you’ll have my number too. For questions,” she paused briefly, “or anything else.” Cass was typically never that bold, but there was something about the way Mat cracked a smile that made her sure she had made the right decision.

Chris coughed, bringing their attention back to the desk and the issue at hand. “I’ll go and make a copy of these for your records, Mat,” he said, standing up and reaching over the desk for the file with the visa forms, “and Cass, you’ll be working off of the originals.” He glanced between the pair. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” 

Chris closed the door behind him, and Mat leaned up against one of the filing cabinets. “So, you’re working for the team now?”

“Yeah.” Cass nodded. “I’m excited, it seems like it’ll be a great position, but I think the prospect of my betrayal might be too much for my poor dad. Working for the enemy and all.”

Mat let out a laugh. “Rangers fan?”

“Big one. I’m from Connecticut so he grew up with the Whalers mostly, but when they folded the family allegiance switched. And when Mike Shaw is in on something, he’s all in. I’m fearing for my well being,” she joked dryly, the corner of her mouth twitching up. 

“I think you’ll be fine,” he said, looking up at her. “Tell your dad that I promise we’re not as bad as we seem. Tito, maybe,” he added, wiggling his hand. “But I’m a good guy, as long as you promise not to sell off our training secrets and pass formations to the highest bidder.”

Cass held up three fingers. “I give you my word as a former Girl Scout that I won’t leak the absolute mountains of information I have access to.”

“Pinky promise?” Mat asked, holding out his hand. 

It was Cass’ turn to laugh, and she stood up from her chair, leaning over and interlocking their fingers. “Pinky promise.”

Chris chose that particular moment to walk back in, raising his eyebrows briefly. “What’s going on here?”

Mat cleared his throat. “It took a lot of convincing, but I got Cass to pinky promise me that she won’t sell us out to the Rangers.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Apparently there was a rash of double-crossing by interns that I wasn’t aware of,” Chris said, handing over the sheaf of copies to Mat. “And Cassidy, I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?” Cass internally groaned, knowing that it would take well over an hour on the train. Still, she nodded curtly. “Of course.”

He smiled, reaching over the desk and shaking her hand. “I’ll put these,” he said, gesturing to the forms, “in your desk tomorrow. You’ll be working out in the main area, we’ll get you set up when you come in. Other than that, you’re good to go. Glad to have you on board. Genuinely.” 

Cass leaned down to pick up her backpack, walking out the door and into the elevator with Mat by her side. “So, I’ll call you if I’ve got questions on any of this, right?” He asked, folding the papers and tucking them into his inside jacket pocket. 

She nodded. “Yeah. This one is a little different but I’ve done a lot of filling out forms and revision for this before, so I don’t think it’ll be too much of an issue. If I don’t know the answer to something, I can find it for you. I might have some questions tomorrow, you guys have a game, right?” Cass asked. Mat nodded. “So obviously I know you’ll have morning skate and be by the arena most of the day, but try to have your phone with you when you can so we don’t have to play phone tag, y’know?”

He smiled, holding the front door open for her as they existed onto the busy street. “I’ll do my best, Cass. See you soon.”

As promised, as soon as Mat had turned the corner, Cass pulled out her phone, clicking on Samaira’s contact. She picked up on the first ring. “Samaira, you’re not going to believe what my afternoon has been like.” 

She headed straight to her room after getting home, managing to squeeze in a few hours of reading before getting started on dinner. Pasta was easy to make for everyone; Alicia was lactose intolerant and Stella kept kosher, so simplicity was often key in group meals. Sautéeing some collard greens with onions and garlic, she turned her head towards the rooms and hollered to the rest of the apartment. “DINNER’S ALMOST READY!”

Much to her chagrin, Cass got up bright and early the next day, shoveling down a bowl of cereal before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

October 12 (fri)

The Islanders had a weeklong road trip, so Cass had been reassigned to contract review since she was all but done with Mat’s visa renewal. She glanced at her watch, seeing that it was nearly noon. Nearly noon meant nearly lunchtime. She hadn’t figured out what she wanted to have for lunch quite yet, but food carts in New York were a dime a dozen; while she wasn’t being paid for the internship, she was given a stipend for lunch and travel expenses that she took full advantage of. Just as she flipped the page over, the office door opened. Assuming that it was some assistant coming for Chris or one of the other lawyers returning from a different office, she didn’t pay it too much mind. That was, however, until the figure stopped by her desk, coughing to get her attention. “Yeah?” She questioned, looking up and tilting her head in confusion when she saw that it was Mat. 

“I had a question about one of the employment history sections, and the office said you’d be here today. I brought food,” he said, holding up a paper back emblazoned with the name of a local Chinese restaurant. 

“Oh God, bless your heart,” she said, pulling over another chair. “I’m starving. Sit down, walk me through it. What’s got you confused?” It didn’t occur to Cass that he could have easily asked her over text.

October 17 (tues)

Sitting at her desk, Cass was trying (and failing) to finish her notes before midnight when her phone lit up with a text. And then another one. And then another. Rolling her eyes, she picked it up, expecting something from one of her younger siblings or a friend from back home. Instead, it was Mat. Hew brow instantly furrowed, swiping up to see what was the matter. He had sent two pictures, both screenshots from newspapers. Florida Man Arrested for Throwing Gator at Mother-in-Law, the first one read. Florida Man Charged with Reckless Endangerment for Filling Nursing Home Koi Pond with Baby Gators, said the other. Do u think it’s the same guy? He asked. 

Rolling her eyes, Cass wrote out a reply. No doubt. Criminals have patterns. 

So do u think all Florida men are obsessed with gators or just this one?

Gator cult. She tapped send, picking it back up almost immediately. Obviously. 

October 21 (sat)

The plane back from Montréal is about to leave. Any album recs?

Mat and Cass had been texting back-and-forth for the past few days, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he asked her. 

Wasteland, Baby - Hozier, Electric Light - James Bay. Amidst the Chaos - Sara Bareilles if ya wanna get a little spicy. I’m mostly an indie kinda girl, give me a sec and I’ll send you my playlist. 

Can’t wait, Mat responded. Cass loved music, and always found it to be something intensely personal. So what was it about Mat that made her so willing to share?

October 23 (mon)

Cass hated getting up early, but there were some things better than sleep. You wanna get coffee before your classes? Mat had texted the night before. Coffee was one of them. Grabbing her backpack and tugging on her favorite pair of ankle boots, she headed out the door at 7:02. 

“Where are you headed this early?” Alicia asked quizzically, her own tote slung over one shoulder. Ryanne almost always left the earliest, usually having to get to her rounds well before anyone else had woken up. 

“Mat and I are going out for coffee,” she said, picking up her keys from the nail by the door. 

Alicia wiggled her eyebrows. “Oooooh, Cass has a daaaateee,” she said in a sing-song voice. 

Cass’s cheeks burned. “It’s not a date, I’m just helping him out with some paperwork. He’s asking me out as a friend. Just because he’s cute—”

Alicia cut her off. “AHA! So you DO admit that you think he’s cute?”

Cass groaned. “Yeah, okay, he’s cute. You happy?” Alicia nodded. “But just because I think he’s attractive doesn’t mean that this is going to be anything other than friends getting together before work, okay?” 

Her friend shrugged. “Whatever you say, Cass. Have fun, be safe! Use prot—” Cass closed the door as quickly as she could without slamming it. Forty minutes later, she was walking up to the coffee shop, greeting Mat with a hug. 

“Sorry if I kept you waiting,” Cass said. 

Mat shook his head. “You didn’t, don’t apologize.” He opened the door for her, hand ghosting over the small of her back as he followed her in line. A few minutes later, Mat was at the register, ordering a cappuccino. He turned to her. “What do you want, Cass?” 

“Mat, you don’t have to pay for me,” Cass said, pulling out her wallet. 

Mat gently pushed her hand down. “I was the one who suggested it, Cass. I’m paying the bill.” He handed over his card to the barista, turning back to her with a smile. “You can get it next time.” She laughed. 

“Fine, you win. Coconut milk latté.”

Oct 25 (wed)

“Afternoon pick-me-up?” Cass looked up from her desk, confused but excited to see Mat in front of her desk. 

“Huh?”

He held up a coffee cup, a speckled white-and-blue reusable. “You mentioned something about needing me to sign the last page or something? I brought you coffee, the cup’s for you too. Place says you’ll save 25¢ whenever you use it.” 

“Yeah,” Cass said slowly, “and you faxed it over, right? Kristie said they got it in this morning.” Kristie was the office assistant, and had handed the page to Cass right as she had walked in the door half an hour prior.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Mat said, seemingly flustered. “I was worried I might have made a mistake on it, so I thought I’d come over and double-check.”

“You’re worried you made a mistake signing your own name?” Cass didn’t quite understand it, but there was something really endearing about him wanting to come down and check it himself rather than just calling her or emailing Chris. “Okay then,” she said, leaning over her laptop to grab the folder. She traded it for the coffee in Mat’s hand, the Post-it note on the side of the cup catching her eye. Coconut milk latté. He remembered. 

Oct 26 (thurs)

What are your thoughts on sushi? Cass got a text from Mat as she was about to get out of her environmental law lecture. The professor had already started packing up her things, so she risked a message back. 

As a concept or as a food?

The food haha

All positive, love sushi!

I know this great place in Chelsea, want to grab dinner later?

You don’t have a late practice or anything with the guys? From what she had gathered, even when it wasn’t a game day, Mat would usually get an extra workout in after practice or go out with Tito and some of the rest of the team.

Nope :) Nothing after 2

Cass bit her lip, weighing her options as she shut her laptop and exited the lecture hall. She wasn’t reading too much into it, was she? Friends got dinner together all the time, it wasn’t weird for him to have asked her. It was normal. Typical friend stuff. Sure, she liked him. She liked him a lot. But it wasn’t worth jeopardizing her career and reputation to try and fabricate something that probably wasn’t even there. Sounds good! I should be able to get there 6ish if that works for you?

Perfect! He wrote back, I’ll send you the address.

Les and Fiona caught up to her that afternoon after she practically ran out of their review session the second it was done. “Woah woah woah,” Fiona asked, catching Cass just as she was about to exit the library. “Where are you headed off to so quick?”

Cass tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, scrunching up her nose. “Getting dinner with Mat.” 

Les wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooooh, your man?”

Cass went red. “He’s not my man! He just asked if I wanted to get sushi. And I’m hungry, and he said he’s paying. So I said yes.”

“But you like him,” Les said, as if he was stating the obvious. Which, in a way, he was?

She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. It’s hard not to. But he asked me out as friends. It’s not a date. If it was a date, he would have said so? Right?” She was starting to ramble.

Fiona reached out to touch her shoulder, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “Maybe. But maybe not. It’s possible that he is into you, but you and I both know that’s a question best answered by someone other than us,” she pointed at her and Les. “And even if he doesn’t, it’s still a free dinner.” 

Cass let out a small smile. “You’re right.” She glanced at her watch. “I told him I’d be there by 6, so I probably should get going if I want to catch the train in time.” She gave each of them a brief hug. “See you next week!”

“GOOD LUCK!” Tyler hollered as she turned the corner. Cass’ cheeks burned, and she was beginning to realize why.

---

Cass got home from the restaurant just after 9, trying desperately to make sense of the past few weeks. Getting ahead of herself had never led to anything good, and much though she wanted to, Cass wasn’t about to put words in Mat’s mouth. But he had been the one to suggest dinner, and he had picked up the tab again. “You’re in law school,” Mat had said with a shrug when the check came. “I’m not about to make you pay for your own food when you don’t have to.” Shaking her head and pulling out the kettle to make a cup of tea, she tried again to rationalize everything. “We’re friends. I’m doing him a solid by helping him out with this paperwork, he’s just trying to be nice and pay me back. Which he doesn’t need to do, because it’s my job. But he’s nice, so he’s doing it anyway. Because we’re friends.” Frustrated, she grabbed her mug, walking back to her bedroom and barely paying any mind to the splashes of near-boiling water that hit the ground. 

Oct. 27 (fri)

It was a quarter to 6, and Cass couldn’t wait to get out of the office. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job. It was incredible and she was so thankful for the opportunity. It was the fact that Mat fucking Barzal had been on her mind all day and she had been finding it so damn hard to concentrate on research and contracts and precedent when she was busy trying to sift through her own feelings. Cass wasn’t a particularly insecure person; like anyone else, she had those days, but it wasn’t really a matter of her thinking he was “out of her league” or that she wasn’t good enough for him. She knew that the whole concept of “leagues” was dumb and classist, but there was something about the whole dynamic that she couldn’t quite shake, and couldn’t quite tell if it was something good or not. It was five minutes to six, and she couldn’t stop her fingers tapping on her desk, waiting to be set free. Waiting for her mind to stop racing. Waiting for her heart to stop pounding.

She spent the next five minutes trying in vain to get through a paper Chris had sent her — she had even broken out her neon highlighters — but nothing was working. Thankfully, Chris chose that moment to stick his head out of his office and call to her. “Cass?” Her head perked up. “I’ve got some files to email you, mind coming in for a sec before you leave?” She nodded, pushing out of her chair and crossing the room. 

“How was your day?” Chris asked, pulling up the files to email her. 

“Uh, pretty good!” Cass said. “Fridays are relatively light for me, I had a morning meeting with the law review and then headed over here. Mat and I got sushi last night, so that was nice.”

Chris looked up over his laptop. “You and Mat?”

Cass nodded, brows furrowing. “Yeah. Is that an issue?” It was never something she had bothered considering, but — 

“Not that I can think of, no,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re spending a lot of time together, though, have you noticed that?” 

“Yeah, I mean, we’re friends, but I didn’t think that was a problem—” Chris held up a hand, cutting her off with a smile. 

“I’m not so sure that what Mat wants is a friendship, Cassidy.” He paused. “My son’s about his age, and please feel free to stop me if you’d like, but this is exactly how he acted when he met Iris.” 

“Iris?” Cass questioned. 

“His fiancée. If I’m reading the situation right, and I think I am, the poor boy’s head over heels for you, Cass.” He clicked his mousepad. “Just sent them over, try to go through them by Monday.”

She nodded, seemingly in a daze as she picked up her bag and walked out of the office, pulling out her phone. 

To: Mat

Are you free later?

Oct 28. (sat)

Tapping her foot nervously, Cass fiddled with her phone just to give her hands something to do. They had grabbed breakfast before she had to head to the office and he had to go to morning skate, and she had stolen the check while he was in the bathroom. But she still hadn’t brought up what Chris had said, or for that matter what Les or Samaira or Alicia had been pestering her about for the better part of the past month. 

Mat returned to the table, snapping Cass out of her thoughts. “You ready to head out?” It was only just past nine, so the plan had been to take a walk around Prospect Park before they had to take off. Cass nodded awkwardly, grabbing her coat and scarf from the back of the chair and looping it around her neck. Mat’s brow furrowed in confusion, but if he suspected anything, he didn’t say so. He walked a few steps ahead of Cass, holding the door open for her. They walked in silence for a block or two; not an awkward silence and not a comfortable one, but some kind of strange liminal space in between the two where it was clear that neither of them was really able to read the room. Mat’s knuckles brushed up against her own.

As they crossed the street into the gardens, Cass took a deep breath and looked up at him. It’s now or never. “What are we doing?” She breathed, so softly that Mat wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been standing scarcely a foot away. 

“We’re going to a park?” Mat questioned. 

She wrung her hands, trying to avoid looking at him. “I mean, what are we doing. You and I.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t want you to think that I’m reading too much into things, or that I haven’t enjoyed getting to know you and spend time with you because I have, but I just need to know what there is going on between us. If there is anything going on between us.”

Mat shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning up against a lamppost. “I mean, I’d like there to be. I’m into you, Cass, I thought I had made that clear,” he added with a single laugh. Cass gave him a quizzical look. “Do you think I actually needed to come into the office every time I dropped in on you? That I’d ask just anyone for music recs? That I asked you out to coffee or dinner just as friends? Cassidy,” he said, standing upright and taking a tentative step towards her, “I don’t even know Tito’s coffee order. But I know yours.” He took another step forwards when she didn’t move back, faces so close that their noses were almost touching. “I wouldn’t ever want to push you into something you weren’t ready for. But Cass,” he tilted her chin up with his hand, “I’m all in if you are.”

She took a shaky breath, willing the voices inside of her head to still themselves for just one moment so she could gather her thoughts. “Mat, I want this,” Cass said, gesturing between the two of them with one hand, the other wound with frustration in her curls. “You have no idea how much I want this. But I work for the team. We both do. And I can’t have anyone thinking that I’m here for anything but the job, that I’m a puck bunny or will be distracted from my work and go run off with my boyfriend or whatever you are—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Trotz might get mad at you, sure. I don’t think it would really matter on your end, though. You wouldn’t face any actual consequences. I’m expendable to this team. You’re not.”

 Mat’s hand came up to cup her cheek, one thumb swiping away a tear gently, so gently, that she hadn’t even realized had leaked out of her eye. “You’re not expendable, Cass. Not to me, not to the team, not to anyone who’s ever bothered getting to know you. You are such an incredible woman and I know you know it, but sometimes it doesn’t seem like you really believe it. If this is scary for me, and it is, I know it must be downright terrifying for you. And I know you’re worried how it would look, us being together, what the team or Chris or whoever would think, but you need to remember to let your talent speak for itself. If I have a shitty game, miss an easy shot or whatever, there’s always the people who say that Trotz should move me down a line, or that I should be traded, or whatever. And there’s always going to be those people. But if you keep your head in the game—”

“Alright, Troy Bolton,” Cass said, finally giving him a watery smile. 

“You realize that if I’m Troy, you’re Gabriella?” Mat asked, raising one eyebrow, hand still on her cheek as the other perched on her waist. Cass leaned into his touch, wrinkling her nose. “Maybe that was a bad metaphor, but Cass, you’re brilliant. You’re such a good student and you’re so dedicated at work. You’re going to make an incredible lawyer. Everyone sees that. And I absolutely respect that you’re worried about what our relationship might do for your career,” He swallowed hard, skating his hand down her arm to hold her hand. “And I’m not sure what else I could say other than what I already have. But you’re good, so good, and they’d be idiots for letting you go over something like this.”

Cass swallowed. “They say some things are worth the risk.”

“Are we gonna do this?” Mat’s hand moved to the small of her back, leaning down so their lips were almost touching, barely, not quite. 

“We’re gonna do this.” Cass closed the gap. 

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

The Joke’s On You

Request: I saw that you're in a dean mood!! Would you be willing to write a fic where it's game night in the bunker and Dean loses to the reader? His ego takes a hit and he's kinda grumpy, but at the end they make up? Can be fluffy, angsty, smutty- pick your poison ;). Requested by Anon.

Word Count: 1514.

“Who’s winning?” Cass came back with some snacks.

“Till now, it seems like Y/n is” Sam informed him.

“Hey, I heard that. The game is not over yet” Dean said.

“Everyone is betting on her, though” Sam added.

“Come on, have a little faith in your brother Sammy”.

“Dean, you’re great in many things, but games aren’t your strong suit” Mary reminded.

“Mom? Not you too” Dean sighed.

“I believe in you, dean” Cass showed support.

“Thanks”.

“You don’t wanna go to war with me, angel” you warned.

“She’s right. You don’t. That was a stupid move” Sam agreed.

“Never ever challenge me, Winchester. You will lose” you smirked.

“We’ll see about that, Y/l/n”.

“Aand checkmate. I win, you lose!” you teased.

“Shut up! It’s not fair”.

“Life isn’t fair”.

“Thanks Dean. Now I have to give everyone 10 dollars” Cass whined.

“This is what happens when you stand against me” you shrugged.

“I’m going to bed” Dean defeatedly said.

“So soon? It’s not even 10 yet” Mary replied.

“Don’t you want pizza or beer?” Sam offered.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just tired” he lied.

---

“Morning” Sam greeted as Dean entered the kitchen in his grey robe and grabbed a beer.

“Where’s everyone?” Dean asked.

“Mom and Jack are on a case in Wyoming and Cass is sorting out some problems in heaven” Sam informed him.

“And Y/n?”.

“She’s probably still sleeping”.

“Ugh, so she’s here?”.

“Yeah. why?”.

“Nothing. We should wake her up” Dean knew how much you loved sleep and wanted to get back at you.

“Why?”.

“You found us a case, haven’t you?” Dean saw that Sam was on his laptop and came up with this idea.

“Mhm.. not really. It was just a normal murder in St. Louis”.

“Says who?”.

“Dean, what are you getting at?”.

“Nothing. I just think there’s a case and we should check it out”.

“Dean I’m not going to sit in the car with you for eight hours because based on hunch there may or may not be a case”.

“But Y/n doesn’t know that. So, what we’re gonna do is wake her up and tell her there’s a case in Missouri” Dean planned.

“So that’s what it’s all about. You getting your revenge. I’m not gonna lie to her, but I won’t interfere with whatever you’re planning on doing. Just don’t tell me and I’m still not coming with you” Sam was like most times; neutral.

“But you’re gonna wake her up, right?” Dean knew it was best not to come near you when you’re sleeping.

“No, that’s on you too. I’m gonna go grocery shopping, so I won’t have to face her. Good luck!”.

Dean rubbed his hands before knocking on your door “hey, Y/n? You awake?”. There was no answer. He knocked again but this time louder. There was still no answer “alright, I’m coming in”.

He opened the door and you were sleeping in a weird, funny position. He had to contain his laughter in order to take a picture.

He came closer but was still afraid of you. He poked you and took a few steps back, but there was no reaction. He poked you a second time and nothing changed. He got tired of waiting and shook your shoulder “Y/n wake up!”. This time you did, but in turning to face him, you slapped him “oh, it’s you!” you rubbed your eyes to see better.

“Ouch! Get dressed! We have a case” he instructed.

“So, what kind of case do we have? And where’s everyone?” you came out of your room prepared with a bag full of guns and other weapons.

“I’m thinking probably ghosts. They’re not here. It’s just you and me” he lied.

“Okay, hand me the reports or articles”.

“You don’t believe me?” Dean looked offended.

“What? No. I just thoug-”.

“Great, we have no time to waste. Let’s go!”.

“Alright, so the case-” before you could ask any questions he put on some of his music and turned up the volume so he couldn’t hear you.

“Okay” you muttered to yourself.

---

“Can you turn down the music a bit?” you asked nicely, but he pretended not to hear you “Dean, turn down the music” you shouted.

“Sorry, can’t hear you” he lied.

You turned it off and turned to face him “you hear now?”.

“Did you really have to do this?” he groaned.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would you think that?”.

“You’ve been awfully quiet. You never just listen to a song and not sing along”.

“I’m just not in the mood. Can we leave it at that, please!”.

“Dean Winchester is not is the mood, who would’ve thought! Fine”.

---

“Okay, I can’t take this anymore. Something is wrong and I can feel it. You haven’t sung to your favorite songs  or talked to me the entire way. So, are you gonna tell me or do I have to torture you to get it out of you?” you gave him a choice.

“I told you nothing is wrong!”.

“So, the latter it is. Where should I start?”.

“How about nowhere?”.

“Why are you grumpy?” you poked his right arm.

“Hey, stop that!” he ordered.

“Or what?”.

“Or we’re gonna die. I’m driving”.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Firstly, since when are you afraid of dying. Secondly, you never pay attention while you’re driving- not that much attention”.

“Well, I-... shut up!”.

“Talk to me!” you ordered.

“I’m not in the mood!”.

“Ooh, so it has something to do with me? Hmmm…. Is it because I accidentally slapped you this morning?”.

“We both know it wasn’t an accident and no!”.

“Come on, tell me. How else am I supposed to fix it if you don’t tell me?”.

“There’s no fixing it. What is done is done”.

“That bad, huh?”.

“Worse” now he was being dramatic.

“Wait… don’t tell me it’s because of what happened yesterday” you laughed.

“Nooo” he lied.

“It totally is. Oh my god, you need to grow up” you mocked.

“You’re not making things better, you know”.

“So, why did you take me with you if you’re mad at me?”.

“Because I wanted to annoy you. I know you hate waking up early. And there was no one else available. Sam didn't want to be involved in ‘our drama’ as he calls it”.

“I see. How do I make things right?”.

“You can’t. It’s too late. You should’ve thought about that before you beat me”.

“Apple pie?” you offered.

“Yeah, that’ll make me forgive you”.

“I thought so” you shook your head.

After you arrived at the crime scene, Dean made you ask all the questions and question the witnesses, which took more that a day.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” you were reviewing the evidence and what everyone said while Dean was lying on the bed watching some stupid cartoon and laughing.

“What?”.

“Maybe come help me or go to a bar or something. There’d be a lot of girls” you suggested.

“Nah, I’m good here with you”.

“You mean you're good with not helping me and annoying me”.

“Yeah, sure whatever you wanna call it”.

---

“I mean we’ve looked everywhere. There’s nothing. Maybe we’ve missed something. Maybe it’s not a ghost. I’m gonna call Sam, maybe he’ll see something that we can’t” after not finding anything the second day, you were frustrated after everything you’ve done.

“No, no, no. There’s no need to call Sam. He doesn’t know. We have all the information here”.

“We don’t have anything. And you are not even useful. So, I’m gonna call Sam”.

“Hey, how’s everything going? I’m gonna send you some stuff of a case we’re working on. See if you can find something that we’ve missed” you called Sam and Dean stood next to you waiting anxiously to find out what Sam is gonna tell you.

“So, I gather that he hasn’t told you yet, has he?” Sam asked.

“Tell me what?”.

“Y/n, you have to talk to Dean. See you soon!” he hung up on you.

“What did he say?” Dean questioned.

“We need to talk”.

“About what?”.

“Sam said you haven’t told me about something, so what is it?”.

“Dammit Sam. He can’t keep his mouth shut for once” he sighed.

“So?”.

“There’s no case” he admitted.

“What?”.

“I wanted to get revenge for the day before yesterday”.

“Seriously?”.

“Uh-hm” he nodded.

“So we drove her for nothing?”.

“Technically”.

“So let me get this straight, you punished yourself by driving all the way here and wasting two days just to get back at me for winning fair and square?” you crossed your arms.

“Yeah. wait, no I didn’t punish myself. You see, I knew there was no case but you didn’t. So, the joke's on you, HAH!”.

“Dean… do the math”.

He stopped for a minute and thought about everything he’s done “Son of a bitch!”.

“Yup! So, I got a pie but I guess there’ll be none for you after all” you shrugged.

“No, wait, please!”.

Tags: @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @berruneko09 @spnwinchestersd​ @simonsbluee​ @capsheadquaters

[backoftheroomandnotbelonging]

73 questions.

I was tagged by @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused

I tag @iamdorka  @xwonderlandxinxhellx @mrs-machinegun-norris (you’re my top three recommended tags)

On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?

Like, a 5? I’m at a point in my life that I can go in any direction so I have a lot of freedom and choice. But, I have no idea where I want to be going so I’m in limbo and that makes me anxious...

Describe yourself in a hashtag?

#backoftheroomandnotbelonging

I use it to tag any content I’m posting and Tumblr is typically where I’m the most honest.

If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?

Oooo I don’t know

Colson? Yungblud, maybe Mod Sun as well...

Definitely Colson though - that man is a dream 👀

If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say?

I genuinely don’t have the foggiest...

What’s one thing people don’t know about you?

I’ve done pole fitness since I was 14.

What’s your wake up ritual?

Wake up, check the number of notifications I have on my phone, have a wash, get dressed, makeup, breakfast.

What’s your go to bed ritual?

PJs, have a wash, music, lights out, music, fanfiction, daydream, pass out.

What’s your favourite time of day?

Anytime between 2:00 and 4:30 in the morning. It’s when my house is guaranteed to be asleep so I’m finally able to just stop and be me.

Your go to for having a good laugh?

I don’t actually remember the last time I had a good laugh...

KellyVision makes me chuckle though.

Dream country to visit?

America. It’s kinda cliche but oh well. Definitely hitting up Cleveland for EST Fest and maybe NYC. Probably would wanna go to an amusement park as well - I just have this idea that they’re very different to British ones.

And NZ! My cousins are there and together? We’re hurricanes.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had?

This is one of those questions that I suddenly can’t think of an answer for.

Maybe @xwonderlandxinxhellx​?

I don’t even remember how we started talking but I never thought (I dreamed but never thought) that I would actually make a friend on Tumblr.

So, thank you 🖤

Heels or flats/sneakers?

CONVERSE! I will die in my Chucks.

That being said, ya girl loves feeling herself in heels. I can’t do normal heels so I have these block heel brogues that I adore.

Vintage or new?

I adore the vintage style but sizing often isn’t on my size.

Also love some dark punk grunge clothing.

Who do you want to write your obituary?

I don’t want an obituary.

When I die I want that to be it. No funeral, no nothing.

Style icon?

Colson, Dom?

I’m very into aesthetics that I could never really pull off.

What are three things you can’t live without?

My glasses

My headphones

The Bloom album (quite literally in this case)

What’s one ingredient you put in everything?

Mixed herbs or sweetcorn.

Love Worcestershire Sauce as well.

What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for?

Colson Baker (needs a heartwarming homecooked meal)

And there are probably others but none that really spring to mind.

My mum, to thank her?

What’s your biggest fear in life?

Fear of isolation

I’m not scared of being abandoned (if you do that to me then you’re doing me a favour)

But I am scared of closing myself off to people that could be there for me and letting things get bad and consume me again.

Window or aisle seat?

Aisle seat!

I like looking at what’s going on about me.

And it’s odd but I also don’t hate the inconvenience of getting up to let people pass.

What’s your current TV obsession?

Roadies.

And nothing else will ever match it. It’s a crime it was cancelled before a second season.

Favourite app?

Tumblr, followed closely by Pinterest.

I think it’s because they’re spaces that are specifically for your interests, dreams, all that mess in your head and I vibe with that.

Secret talent?

I’m not very talented, not gonna lie.

I can rap all of Breaking News which I feel is impressive?

Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?

I’ve not had many opportunities to be adventurous.

Skipping school always gave me such anxiety so my body definitely thought I was jumping off a cliff or something.

How would you define yourself in three words?

Witty, fangirl, brave?

Favourite piece of clothing you own?

I have a green and grey checkered suit jacket that I adore.

My Adder Technology jumper is my favourite oversized item.

Black ripped jeans.

Must have clothing item everyone should have?

Brown leather belt. I don’t know why but I’ll never go back.

Superpower you would want?

Power of time? Just to like slow it down. I feel like I don’t have enough time to do anything so to slow it down and get shit done would be great. Or just to give myself a minute to breathe. We don’t get enough ‘time out’s in life.

What’s inspiring you in life right now?

Colson has always been inspiring to me.

He came into my life when I was 15 and literally saved it. He’s always going to mean that to me.

Best piece of advice you’ve received?

Mod Sun: I’ve always been a little bit reluctant to say I’m gonna be the best at something because I didn’t wanna disrespect other people, like ‘Imma be the best at something, you can’t have it’. So I’d never really be like that. But if you don’t say you’re gonna be the best at what you’re doing, your insides, that power that you have, doesn’t know what the fuck to do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JUdgoHnL4Q&list=LLF69NADeUPVjZWSlZpeiGWg&index=3&t=0s

Best advice you’d give your teenage self?

Just live, please. We were so close to not living and yet here we are. Please, please, just throw the rule book in the flames. Go to school hungover, pull allnighters to just feel music, smoke, don’t do your homework.

Promise me to be unapologetically yourself.

A book that everyone should read?

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote - just stick with it...it’s an interesting story and raises some questions about life.

The Selection Series by Keira Cass - my favourite YA series.

Harry Potter by JK Rowling - pretty self explanatory? 

What would you like to be remembered for?

I don’t wanna be remembered.

I’m gone, just move on. Find a new energy to bring into your life.

How do you define beauty?

    (That is a purposeful blank space.)

What do you love most about your body?

That it’s never given up on me.

Best way to take a rest/decompress?

Music as loud as possible so you can just lose yourself.

Favourite place to view art?

Oh this has me stumped.

I like art that is significant but isn’t technically legally displayed.

If your life were a song, what would the title be?

It would 100% be a word or phrase that wouldn’t turn up in the lyrics at all.

But you listen to it and the title seems like the perfect title, nothing else could represent this song.

If you could master one instrument, what would it be?

Guitar, bass? No, drums. Vocals...

I just want some musical talent!

If you had a tattoo, where would it be?

Oooo, get ready.

Bee, on my collarbone.

Lace Up, on my wrist.

Tree, on my sternum.

Stars/an astronaut/a solar system, somewhere undecided.

Dolphins or koalas?

Don’t really have a preference...

But the dolphins in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy were great so...

What’s your spirit animal?

I think maybe a seal?

Best gift you’ve ever received?

My headphones.

I have tiny ears so have always struggled to find earbuds that are comfortable for a long period of time.

I found some!

And then they were discontinued so it’s really difficult to buy them.

I was surprised with 3 pairs once and I practically cried.

Best gift you’ve ever given?

Ummm, I’m not very artsy creative but I once made my mum a birthday card using a teabag, I think she liked it?

I was a teenager so it was really rare that I ever did something artistic so I think she especially appreciated the effort and discomfort I felt.

What’s your favourite board game?

Chess.

Game of Life.

Cards against humanity.

What’s your favourite colour?

Grey.

Least favourite colour?

I used to have this severe hate for pink because it was forced on me as a child (I shared a room with my little sister and she loved pink so pink was what she got.)

I’ve grown out of it: pink is punk as fuck.

Diamonds or pearls?

I don’t really have a preference.

I much prefer simple things.

If we’re talking jewellery then I like plain silver.

Drugstore makeup or designer?

Ummm...I’m not sure how to differentiate.

I try and use Natural Collection for the base of my makeup but my eyeliner and eyebrows are Rimmel London and NYX.

Blow-dry or air-dry?

Air-dry

These curls only work one way and that’s their way.

Pilates or yoga?

Both.

Depends on what I need in the moment.

Coffee or tea?

Neither!

I’m not allowed so it’s hot chocolate all the wayyyy.

What’s the weirdest word in the English language?

The weirdest words are the ones that you learnt reading so pronounce one way when actually it’s said entirely differently.

Me, in Year 10, with the word ‘epitome’.

Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

Depends on my mood really...

Cadbury released this bar that mixed the two together and that seems kinda perfect.

Stairs or elevator?

Either

I like racing people in the lifts to see if I can get up the stairs quicker. Such a child, I know.

Summer or winter?

Winter, for sure.

Natural ginger so the summer is the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.

You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat?

Mash.

A desert you don’t like?

Apple pie (or any fruit pie)

And custard.

A skill you’re working on mastering?

Skateboarding.

No time like quarantine, eh?

Best thing to happen to you today?

Woke up naturally alert so felt ready to tackle the day productively for the first time since lockdown began.

Best compliment you’ve ever received?

That my writing has helped someone.

Someone told me that A Night of Many Firsts perfectly represented what they were feeling and helped them feel strong enough to get help.

Favourite smell?

My deodorant, baking, the local library.

Hugs or kisses?

Hugs. Simple as.

If you made a documentary, what would it be about?

Intense case study of teenage mental illness into adulthood.

Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?

Pretty Toxic Revolver - Machine Gun Kelly

Probably every episode of Torchwood ever

Lipstick or lip gloss?

Lipstick

Sweet or savoury?

Savoury. Vegan corn chowder, garlic bread, potatoes.

Girl crush?

I don’t really have any?

I mean, I’m bi but no one really comes to mind.

How you know you’re in love?

I’ve never been in love but I hope it would be seeing them and feeling peace.

Knowing that they get every part of you, good and bad, and still choose to stay. And vice versa.

Song you can listen to on repeat?

Pretty much anything MGK

Currently feeling the Lace Up album.

If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be?

I wouldn’t want to be someone else.

I’d much rather be able to jump forward and experience a day in my future...for reassurance.

What are you most excited about at this time in your life?

Travelling.

I’m leaving and hopefully never coming back to this place, this mindset, again.