#every now and then a tiny flicker of Batman gets through

[frownyalfred]

I love the idea of Dick just flickering from Nightwing, everyone's favourite, to actually terrifying, and back again. And no one really being able to pinpoint what about him changed.

That’s exactly it, flickering. He’s a performer so anything you see is only going to break through for just a second. He’s Nightwing, but every now and then there’s a flicker of something else. And it makes you wonder who, or what, you’re exactly looking at.

[sunshineangel0]

chapter three

pairing- Bang Chan x OC (Chi Nakamura) genre- Slow burn, fluff, slice of life, romance word count- 1.2k warning- pure fluff, a hint of fomance, chi and chan being sweet, something coming up 👀 a/n- ahhh this is finally forming a little!!! I hope this story gives yall the same comfort as it gives me!! 🫶🏻

Two Weeks Later

Chris had a routine.

Wake up at 4:30 AM. Leave his penthouse at 5:15 AM. Get to Mochi & Bean by 5:30 AM, grab a coffee, and enjoy a few minutes of peace before the rest of the world woke up.

It was simple. Predictable. Efficient.

Until Chi ruined it.

Because now?

Now he had a problem. A very bubbly, overly enthusiastic, doesn’t-know-who-he-is problem.

And the worst part? He didn’t hate it.

The morning rush hadn’t quite started yet, but Chi, bright as ever despite the early hour, was restocking the pastry case, carefully arranging matcha financiers, almond croissants, and strawberry mochi muffins—the same muffins a certain customer had been ordering consistently for the past two weeks.

Right on time, at 5:30 AM sharp, the bell above the door chimed.

Chi didn’t even have to turn around.

"Morning, Batman," she greeted without looking up, a teasing lilt in her voice as she continued adjusting the pastries.

Behind her, a low chuckle.

"Morning, Chi," Chris replied, voice laced with the usual quiet rasp of sleep.

Chi finally turned, brushing her hands off on her apron before leaning onto the counter, just like she did every morning.

"Same order?" she asked, already reaching for a cup.

Chris nodded, his black hoodie and cap combo the same as usual, except today he was wearing gray sweats instead of black. "Yeah. And—" He hesitated for half a second before nodding toward the display case. "Might as well take a financier today too."

Chi blinked. "Whoa. Switching it up? That’s wild. You feeling okay?"

Chris let out a small breath of laughter, shaking his head. "You always this dramatic?"

"Only when my favorite regular suddenly breaks his sacred morning routine," she teased before quickly correcting herself, "—I mean, one of my favorite regulars. I can’t play favorites, you know. Bad for business."

Chris just hummed, leaning one elbow onto the counter as she worked.

As she poured his coffee, Chi spoke again, voice light and full of amusement.

"You know, something kinda funny happened yesterday," she said.

Chris raised an eyebrow, lips hovering over the rim of his coffee cup. "Yeah?"

"Mmhmm," Chi hummed, bagging his financier. "Apparently, my little café is trending right now. Like, a lot of new customers came in yesterday. Someone posted online that a celebrity—like, an actual idol—was spotted with one of my coffee cups."

Chris exhaled softly through his nose, taking a slow sip of his coffee.

"Really?" he said, feigning casual interest.

Chi nodded, completely oblivious. "Yeah! Some dude from a band called… Stray Kids? Ever heard of them?"

Chris glanced down at his coffee, a tiny amused smirk creeping onto his face.

"Yeah," he said, voice maddeningly neutral. "I’ve heard of them."

Chi leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "Apparently, they’re kinda a big deal."

Chris tilted his head, pretending to think. "Yeah… I guess you could say that."

Chi huffed a laugh. "How did I not notice someone like that ordering from my café? That’s crazy."

Chris bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

For the past two weeks, he’d walked into this café, the literal leader of Stray Kids, millionaire, global superstar—and Chi still had no idea.

He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or ridiculously entertained.

Probably both.

But instead of telling her, he just sipped his coffee, nodding slowly.

"Yeah," he said, voice dangerously close to laughing. "Crazy."

Chi leaned against the counter, absentmindedly swirling the dishcloth in her hands as she continued talking, completely unaware of the amusement flickering in Chris’s deep brown eyes.

"I mean," she sighed, glancing toward the window where the early morning light spilled in, "I never really had time to keep up with celebrities. When I was younger, I was always either studying, baking, or with my nose buried in a book. Gosh I was a total nerd." She let out a light laugh, shaking her head at the thought. "So, I guess I just completely missed out on all the idol and K-pop stuff."

Chris took another slow sip of his Americano, watching her with an expression that was half-amused, half-something else—something softer, something unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, his fingers resting against the warm ceramic of his coffee cup.

"That so?" he asked, his voice low and calm, like he was treading carefully.

"Yeah," Chi continued, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in his tone. "Not that I have anything against it! I just… never really paid attention." She tilted her head, brows furrowing slightly as she thought. "I hope it’s not rude that I didn’t recognize the guy."

Chris exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned his elbows onto the counter, mirroring her posture. His gaze lingered on her, studying the way her nose scrunched slightly when she was deep in thought, the way her fingers lightly drummed against the countertop when she spoke.

"Nah," he murmured, amusement laced in his voice. "I think he’d probably find it refreshing."

Chi let out a relieved sigh, smiling. "Good, because I was worried for a second. People were freaking out about it, like it was some huge deal."

Chris hummed in agreement, taking another slow sip of his coffee, carefully masking the smirk threatening to spread across his lips.

If only she knew.

Chi straightened, stretching her arms above her head before reaching for the small paper bag that held his financier. She slid it across the counter toward him, her fingers brushing the smooth surface of the bag before pulling away. "Well, whoever he is, I hope he liked the coffee."

Chris exhaled, his fingers closing around the bag with an effortless ease. The faintest smile ghosted over his lips, subtle but undeniably there.

"Oh, he likes it," he said smoothly, his voice carrying an amused lilt. "He comes here every morning, after all."

Chi laughed, the sound light and warm, shaking her head as she leaned against the counter. "Guess so," she mused, too occupied thinking about who it may be to notice the words he just said. Tilting her head playfully, she added, "Maybe I’ll recognize him next time."

Chris arched a brow, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a grin.

"Yeah," he said, voice rich with quiet amusement. "Maybe."

And with that, he grabbed his coffee, his fingers lingering against the cup for a moment before he finally turned toward the door. He didn’t rush, taking his time, letting the moment stretch just a little longer. Then, as always, he pushed open the door, stepping out into the crisp morning air, disappearing down the street like he did every single day.

Chi watched the door swing shut behind him, exhaling thoughtfully before shaking her head with a small smile.

Whoever this ‘Stray Kids guy’ was, she hoped he knew just how much buzz he had stirred up.

And she still had no idea he had just walked out her door.

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

skz general: @velvetmoonlght @scarlet789

mochi and bean: @offl-ine @missvanjii @watchingover-hypegirl @namchanhyung

(if you want to be added to my taglist, please comment under the post.)

[darlingdickie]

Dream a Dream of Fifteen... or is it only a Dream?

Dick twisted in his blankets, brows furrowing as he slept. It was a clear night that night, the moon shining down upon the city. He had been with Slade for fourteen months at that point, had missed his fifteenth birthday, had missed a quiet celebration with Alfred and Bruce and Jason. It had taken Dick four of those months to stop fighting back, another three for deep conditioning to take effect, and the other seven had been laden with intense training- guns and swords and further stealth and more and more and more-- The Apprentice was poised on a roof's edge, waiting for a flicker of light from the building below. In the beginning of his training, he had been restless. Moving feet, tapping fingers to his thigh- it had always been difficult for a bobbing bird to go still. But that had happened. Broken fingers, sharp rebuke, and further training had taught the Apprentice complete stillness, other than the faint rise and fall of his chest. There. The flash he'd been told to wait for. The ultimate test about to begin. In the recesses of his mind, Dick knew he'd never be able to go back after this. He'd be arrested or killed on sight at best once word got out. Never able to see his brother again or touch his shoulder, for fear of soaking Jason with the blood on his hands. He balked for a second before the muffled blanket of calm, cold certainty fell about his head. Slade wouldn't give him anything he couldn't handle. Slade had promised him he never would. And Slade always kept his promises, especially to his apprentice. So the Apprentice could do this... Renegade awakened. Never with a start. Never let anyone know you were awake until you were moving. He wasn't in the cot he was used to, nor was he dressed in his usual nightclothes. Peeping through his dark lashes, he didn't see any cameras, so with a fluid motion the teenager was upright. The small bedroom wasn't familiar to him, crowded with little trinkets on the shelves and bed laden with blue blankets. Confused, he reached out and touched a plush elephant by the pillow, the sight of it ringing with a vague nostalgia that didn't feel right. After a brief exploration of the rest of the premises, Renegade concluded he was in a small apartment for... some reason. It was locked from the inside, but he was alone, though whoever had hidden him in this place could have left via the fire escape. Now it was time for the deep dive. Carefully rummaging through every nook and cranny, every hidden spot, Deathstroke's partner was able to find his swords, crossed and hung up neatly behind a hidden panel in the bedroom closet, and his gun, set in the bedside table drawer. However, his uniform was missing. Slade's subcutaneous trackers were missing from his body, and new ones were in other locations. Batman's preferred locations. They had to go. Renegade found a long, sharp knife, and swiftly, efficiently removed the trackers, sewing and bandaging himself up after. He left the bloody tech blinking in the middle of the tiny kitchen table he'd set up shop at, then opened the hidden compartment he'd discovered in the living room once more as he scrubbed his hands clean with a disinfectant wipe. A costume hung there, one he didn't recognize, though the make of it reminded him of the man Slade went to for their uniforms. Same sort of specialized material... But surely it was also bristling with trackers, so Renegade disregarded it and instead snagged a lensed domino mask and some smoke pearls before shutting the case once more. Nothing was out of place, except for his swords in their rightful place on his back, the gun against his hip (hidden under a stolen black hoodie), the clothes, money, and tech he was taking, the cluster of trackers pointedly left behind- and the window to the fire escape left slightly ajar. As Renegade darted across the rooftops, leaping cleanly from one to the next, his mind whirred. He had to get into contact with Slade... But how?

[otienosdatieno]

I have really missed the feeling...

I have a dream. It flickers on and off sometimes. There are days I wake up feeling fullfilled. Other days? Well, nonplussed. As a kid, I used to imagine—a lot of things. Lately, I have been thinking of the details and my heart breaks every time (partly because I do not have the childlike delusion of believing everything is possible anymore) I do. I want to feel like a superhero again (spider man's control and batman with his feast). I want to notice when tea burns my lips—again. I know it didn't get any cold. I just hardened myself until I couldn't feel anymore. I want to cut my food into tiny pieces—again.

I have really missed the feeling of wearing my favourite outfits to church. Maybe it's just me but church doesn't feel the same anymore. Like when we used to wake up so early and hurry up so we could get a seat. Church used to be a whole congregation. Min Toti would usher us in and children would leave seats for the adults anyway. Church used to be so packed. Balloons of weddings that normally happened on Saturday would lighten up the room as if to confirm Jesus is indeed, the way and the light. Stickers of 'who weds who' would make me want to get married one day. Min Gabbie (my step mum) would make sure I pertake in the holly communion. I would sock the sacrament with saliva—I didn't want to chew the body of christ(that would be pain to the most high,so I thought). That's not it anymore. Mostly, I'm always waiting for the mass to end because I'm in the midst of strangers (I'm sorry). Maybe, I missed out on the whole point of church. Still, I want to feel it —again.

The excitement of visiting new places. I want to drink my grandmother's magira only that she already passed way. I miss her a lot but that's partly besides the point. Listen, do you know I still watch spongebob? At 21? It hurts mostly when I watch. Not that Patrick is no longer my favourite. Thing is, I miss the remote fights with my siblings. I miss how we used to laugh until it hurts. I want to get annoyed at the numerous reminders that would pop and switch channels. We used to watch TMNT and Bob The Builder. I want to shout (can we fix it!) and hear Gabbie (my brother) shout (YES WE CAN!).

I want my father to lift me from the ground and make goofy sounds as he throws me in the air.

I miss the feeling of christmas. It just doesn't feel the same anymore (I'm sorry Jesus,how dare I!). Mum would style my hair with chemical and buy us new clothes. Fidel (my brother) would stay in the kitchen whole time and count the chapati-rolls from the dough. Dad would sit in his couch (it was his couch). Food would be served and I miss saying— when I grow up I'll eat a whole 'superdrum' of chips. Mum would smile and say that's impossible. I would sharply interject—it's possible. Now that I confirmed, it's impossible, it's not the fact that I can't tell mum because she passed away that hurts me the most. Maybe they were right—It's the thought that counts.

Nobody is stopping me from doing these things. Infact, if I wanted to, I would do them all over again and again. Doing and feeling are very different. I know you know as much as I do. But I digress.

I have been looking for myself. I have been hopping, stepping and jumping. There goes another memory. Anyhoo, welcome to my world. I hope we connect through the words of my writing. I am hoping to find myself. I'm glad I found you in the process. I want to step into the universe, literally. I have been reading books. I've been looking in the shelves—for myslelf. I want to connect with you all. The world is filled with talented, educated, and beautiful people. We meet them everyday. They are all around us. You are them.

I decided to finally come to a conclusion that I am and will forever be writing for the world to the world. I hope, we connect. Through the words of my writings. Let's jump into this❤️✌️

With love,

Alchemist.

[terminallydepraved]

Beyond the Pale (JayTim Vampire au)

Yo! My contribution to the @batsandbeasts Batman zine is now up on ao3 for your reading pleasure.

Read on ao3 here.

The sharp silhouette of Drake Manor against the pale, full moon cut a suitably somber visage against the autumn sky. A pervasive wind was blowing through the trees surrounding the overgrown ground, whispering like a poorly kept secret. Jason Todd lifted the collar of his coat out of habit, shielding the vulnerable flesh of his neck from its bite. He stared at the once-grand home while he let the wind claw and tug at his clothing as if in hope of beckoning him through the battered doors.

 In that regard, the wind seemed to be the most welcoming thing about the place. The windows had long been boarded up, the brick facade a patchwork of lichen and ivy so dried and desiccated that it looked black in the light of the moon. A once-impressive turret rose up to spear the bloated clouds overhead, appearing desperate in its struggle to stand straight while it slanted dangerously askew. Brittle, dead grass crunched beneath his heavy boots. No flowers grew in the planters by the wrapping porch. Only weeds that whispered alongside the breeze.

 If anything had lived here, it would have been decades ago. To an observant eye, that supposition would be the end of it. Drake Manor had been abandoned for years, the place left to rot and molder alongside the family that had owned it up until tragedy took them from splendor to the sepulchre nestled just behind the building’s sprawling expanse.

 “The whole family passed one by one,” echoed the memory of that old woman’s voice in the lilting chill on the wind. “It was… sudden. First the mother. Next, the father.”

 “And the son?” Jason had asked as he sharpened the stake by the hearth, staring at the small woman from across the tavern floor. She had kept her distance from him, like a rabbit smelling blood in the air. Everyone had. They might not have known they had a dead man walking among them, but something within them warned them of the danger of lingering too close to a Hunter seeking fresh prey.

 Wizened hands wound themselves with rosary beads. Jason’s eyes tracked them like pearls, reciting the words of her prayer silently out of a habit that hadn’t managed to die even after he had. Her eyes turned towards the rough wooden beams above their head. “We do not speak of it,” she said, talking to God more than the one that used to preach his word. “It is not the boy it once was.”

 No one would say what the boy was now, but that was fine. Jason had spent the bulk of his life—      both    lives—exterminating things better left unsaid. His hands roved over the holsters on his hips and the belt that held his stakes. Vials of holy water—freshly consecrated earlier that evening—studded the inside of his leather jacket. His shotgun was a reassuring weight between his shoulder blades. The small blade tucked inside his right boot pressed against his calve, more soothing than rumors could ever be.

 That woman had warned him to be careful; Jason had to think that the creature skulking away inside those dilapidated walls could use that warning more.

 The grass crunched beneath his boots as he moved towards the front door. In the dead of night the sound seemed deafening. Still, Jason didn’t try to muffle his approach. It already knew he was coming— in fact, it likely already knew he was here. A vampire couldn’t hope to steal six villagers from their beds and remain unnoticed in its lair. Humans were fragile, weak, and easily made victims to the shadows beyond the firelight— but that was where Hunters came in, evening out the playing field.

 Jason, for one, had long outgrown his fear of the dark.

 Pulling his shotgun over his head, Jason held it at the ready as he made his way up creaking, splintering steps, eyes narrowed for any sign of movement. He took care to keep his finger off the trigger; any other time he would prime himself to fire first and ask questions later, but the bodies of the stolen villagers hadn’t been found yet. Slim as it was, they could still be alive. He’d been trained too well to write off the possibility entirely, so his finger stayed flattened against the stock as he kicked down the front door with a resounding      bang!  

 The sound reverberated through the entry hall like a crack of thunder. Motes of dust rose in the air, stirring the spider webs hanging from the eaves and edges of practically every available surface. Jason resisted the urge to close his eyes as powdery flecks settled in his hair. It was quiet in the dead space, stagnant air heavy with the silence. Every step Jason took cut tracks into the layer of filth blanketing the wooden floor. If something had been in here, it hadn’t left a trail for him to follow. The dust was undisturbed as far as the eye could see.

 First course of business was to locate the missing villagers. They had been gone for at least a week, some of them closer to three. Vampires that took to creating larders tended to store their human pantry staples somewhere secure, contained, and without many options for escape. A place this big... no doubt it had a basement, maybe even a few cellars. He would need to find it before he went hunting for the vampire. Once the captives were out of the picture he’d be able to fight without holding back.

 Of course, that was all easier said than done. This place was enormous. Cavernous even, and Jason had spent a large part of his youth in a manor not that dissimilar from it. Maybe it was the lack of life in the place that made it seem so empty. The portraits on the walls had eyes, but their dead smiles were fixed in place, like spectral guides that escorted him through the halls. He paused outside a dark, rusted kitchen. Memories of his childhood flickered among the shadows.

 A board creaked behind him. Jason swiveled smoothly, body moving independent of thought. He pointed the barrel of his gun in the direction of a set of descending stairs just visible through a nearby doorway. His heart beat a little faster. That door had been closed a moment ago, hadn’t it?

 “Show yourself,” he called out. An old house like this would creak and groan naturally, but the timing was too perfect, too planned. Jason bared his teeth as he looked down the line of his gun. “I know you’re here. Stop hiding and let’s get this over with.”

 Another creak, this time further down the hall. Jason shifted without thinking, but this time he caught sight of movement just as it evaded his peripherals. A cold sweat began to bead on his forehead, the tiny hairs on his body rising in the wake of instinct telling him that he was sharing breathing space with a predator. It was in the area with him; of that there was no doubt. Hiding in the shadows and among the eaves above his head… Jason fought the urge to look up, knowing through experience that keeping his eyes forward gave him the best chance of reacting quickly when it inevitably came for his throat.

 Jason slowly backed into the kitchen, preferring a wider space for the fight that was soon to follow.

 “I’ve never met a hunter before,” a quiet, lilting voice remarked just as the silence began to weigh on Jason like lead. Again, he moved to face the direction of it, his shotgun slicing through the air with whisper. He found himself moving yet again though when that same voice spoke again from a different direction, “Are you truly as strong as the stories say?”

 “Stronger,” Jason grunted, knowing this game after playing it so many times. It would try to get close next, and he readied his finger on the trigger. “Even death didn’t stop me from killing your kind.”

 The words had barely left his mouth before the vampire made its move. Jason reacted with practiced grace, giving himself to his instincts as he twisted at the waist and fired at the pale blur rushing towards him through the kitchen doorway. The gunshot went off like a thunderclap, deafening in such a dead space. A spray of lead burst through a section of the door frame, ruining an enormous family portrait mounted in the hallway behind it.

 “Close,” an icy voice whispered in Jason’s ear. A pale hand wrapped around the smoking barrel. “But no cigar.”

 Jason recoiled, warning bells ringing like a cacophony of the damned inside his head as the gun was snatched free from his hands. He let it go without a fight—the creature could overpower him easily, so there was no point in wrestling for it—and darted back, hand reaching for a vial of holy water and lobbing it in the direction of the figure now standing in the middle of the manor’s kitchen.

 Jason’s eyes closed as the glass shattered; when he opened them again, the figure was gone, its voice still echoing around his head.

 The eaves. It’d gone for the eaves again, or maybe to the tops of the large shelves and cabinets scattered around the room’s upper edges. Jason scanned the ground for his gun, spotting it towards the door he had come through.

 “I know who you are, hunter,” the vampire crooned, smooth and melodic, the only warning Jason had before a pale hand descended from the dark to grab him from behind. Those lips met his ear once more as it hissed, “I know      every    trick in your arsenal.”

 White hot anger tore through Jason, overpowering the fear throbbing in his veins. “Oh yeah?” he spat, tearing free two more vials and crushing them in his bare hands. The glass tore through his palms, but that hardly mattered. Blood and holy water both sailed over his shoulders as he cast his hands back. The vampire let out a pained shriek, and the pressure on Jason’s back abated.

 The creature didn’t retreat far this time, giving him a chance to look, if only briefly, at his quarry. Even crumpled on the ground he could tell that the vampire was young and far more intelligent than the majority of the blood-starved prey he’d hunted in the past. Jason couldn’t look at him dead on for fear of being caught by that gaze, but what he glimpsed out of the corner of his eye was enough to tell him that the refined beauty spoken about in most vampire stories wasn’t a lie this time around, even with holy water burning black spots into his perfect, blood-flecked skin.

 That must be the boy. The woman from the tavern hadn’t spoken his name, but Jason had done his research, had seen that face staring back at him from the portrait sporting buckshot behind him. Timothy Jackson Drake, last of his line. He had been on the cusp of adulthood when he went missing, and it was clear now that he’d stayed there for decades after.

 Jason dove for his gun. Dust rose in the scramble, the vampire darting forward to cut him off. Inertia carried Jason forward as he committed to the move, his shoulder bearing the brunt of the impact as he slammed into the vampire and sent them both tumbling through the doorway and back into the hall. Sweat stung Jason’s eyes but he didn’t dare close them, not this close, not as he fought with every ounce of strength he had to pin the slighter body to the floor.

 “What did you do with them?!” Jason grunted, forcing his forearm against the vampire’s throat until there was no way for Drake to bite back. “Where the fuck did you put the villagers, Drake?!”

 Cold fingers wrapped around his arm, holding tight but not as tight as Jason knew he could. “You can call me Tim,” whispered the vampire through a smile. His eye teeth curved over his bottom lip, ruining whatever charm the expression might’ve held once upon a time. “Can I call you Jason?”

 Jason couldn’t smother his reaction, his shock. It widened his eyes, slackened his grip. Drake— Tim—      the vampire    took the chance it was, pushing hard and rolling them over, pinning Jason to the floor like a butterfly to tack board.

 He had to look at Tim now, and God, the stories had never been so true. Pale skin, startling blue eyes, and lips like roses, blood red and temptation incarnate. Those shy lips curled back into a revealing smile, but even that barely shattered the illusion. Jason shut his eyes as quickly as he could, scrambling for one of the stakes at his waist. He shoved upwards with every ounce of strength he had and barely,      barely    managed to roll them over.

 His elbow clipped a door frame, warning him too late that he should have aimed better. Jason lost hold of the vampire as they both tumbled ass-over-tea-kettle down a flight of rickety steps. The stake in his hand was lost along the way. Jason felt a few more splinter by the time he reached the floor.

 It wasn’t a graceful landing, and he knew without looking which of them would recover from it first. Jason hit the ground hard, his breathing rushing out of him upon impact. He forced himself to keep moving, rolling onto his knees as his hand reached for the knife he kept in his boot. The air was heavy and dank, his surroundings as black as pitch once the sound of a door slamming shut cut off the sliver of light just above his head. The dirt beneath his feet told him well enough that he had fallen into the manor’s lowest level, but without moonlight or a torch his options on finding his way back upstairs were worse than limited.

 “I waited for you, you know,” came that voice again. “Did you think it was strange how loudly that village called for you? I knew you would come, Jason. I know everything about you.”

 “You don’t know shit,” Jason snapped, swiping his knife into the empty air. The vampire was pitching his voice somehow, projecting the sound so it echoed all around him. Without light there was no way to tell where he actually was. A burst of paranoia had Jason twist on his heel, slicing wildly at the space behind his back. He met nothing but nothingness, and it pissed him off even more.

 “Jason Peter Todd,” recited Timothy Jackson Drake, last of his line. “Street rat turned hunter. Made apprentice to the best and fell victim to the worst.”

 Jesus Christ. “What the fuck do you want?” Jason snarled. He couldn’t smell any rot or blood, and this had to be the basement. Where were the villagers?

 “You said it yourself; death makes things stronger.” Something cold brushed Jason’s neck. Jason tried to lift his knife but a slender hand wrapped around his wrist, squeezing like a vice until he was forced to drop it. “I waited for you,” Tim whispered, soft hair and cold breath ghosting across Jason’s cheek. “I used to watch you, before. I watched you, and then you disappeared.”

 Right. Jason had died, slaughtered by that monster just to come back as one thanks to elements far beyond even his ken. The struggle had left his body, telling the logical part of his brain that Tim must be staring into his eyes right now, mesmerizing him through the darkness. He never should had let the vampire get close to him. He never should have come here alone.

 “The… villagers…” Jason forced himself to ask, even as his knees gave out beneath him. “What did… Where…?”

 When Tim laughed, it sounded like bells. “Back in their beds. I only needed a story to get you here. But that’s okay, isn’t it? You’re here, and you’re tired, aren’t you?” Jason felt an unnatural exhaustion begin to seep into his limbs in time with the lilting words. His eyelashes fluttered; he couldn’t seem to make his arms move. “Don’t you want to sleep now, Jason? You can sleep. I’ll watch after you.”

 That voice was just a whisper. Icy fingers ran through Jason’s hair. Lips as cold as death brushed his cheek tenderly as his body settled on the floor.

 “And don’t worry,” Tim breathed, those lips ghosting over his throat. “Even death didn’t stop me from wanting you.”

[out-of-jams]

Vesper || jjk

↠ Vesper↞ “There’s a first time for everything.”

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Genre: doberman hybrid!kook. human reader. explicit language. fluff. PG 13. one shot.

This fic is apart of The Hybrid Collab hosted by @jeonggukkiepabo​! A special thank you to Anna for bearing with my idiotic forgetfulness, aka me writing this and then forgetting to post it over my hiatus. 🥴 ᵖˡˢ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃ���ᵉ ᵐᵉ  (also it’s a lot shorter now than it had been when i’d written it bc sfw lol)

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not

Cold – adjective.

Definition: freezing your fucking ass off.

You were well acquainted with the word– all but became one with it– what, with how absolutely balls cold out it was. The line to get into Vesper was stretched all the way down the sidewalk outside of the building, and extended out of sight around the corner. Sounds of city life echoed through the streets, cars zooming in between traffic and music leaking out of the bars.

From the crack in Vesper’s backdoor, the beginning’s of a hip-hop song filtered from the expensive sound system. It was loud, eardrum-rattling so, and you closed your eyes, leaning against the brick wall off to the side. A cloud of white left your parted lips as your warm breath hit the biting chill in the air. It was too bad that you were nowhere near drunk enough for the weather not to bother you.

Why you’d chosen to follow your friends out in sub-freezing temperatures was a mystery. You hated clubs, how packed to the walls they were, filled with writhing bodies so close together like sardines. It made you feel utterly claustrophobic, but it was your friend’s birthday and so you couldn’t opt out of following along with the group’s plans for the night. Not that you were ever able to say no to them when they insisted on dragging you out to the place.

Vesper was a popular club that you were sometimes forced to go to, located in the heart of downtown that catered to not only humans, but hybrids as well. It wasn’t the first establishment to do so, seeing as how hybrids integrated into society more than a decade ago. No longer were they as discriminated against as they once were, back when they first came about.

No one was 100% certain on how they’d even come to be; some sort of radiation exposure. The first hybrids had been humans, before they changed, morphed. Due to some sort of exposure to radiation, their cells had multiplied and transformed over the course of a few weeks until half of their genetic makeup resembled animal genes.

While the blatant racism had died out over the years, some, the more elitist members of society, still discriminated against hybrids. Looked down at them because they were born to be ruled more by their animal instincts than their human counterparts. Treated them as less-than because they weren’t completely human, when they were really just misunderstood.

Because of the fact that they were more tapped into their animal side and therefore behaved that way, hybrids used to be seen as beings who could be let loose into society. Who could not “control themselves.” So they took them as pets, tried to tame and sell them.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you fished a cardboard box from the inside pocket of your coat. The sound of you tapping out a white cigarette was in time with the beat of the song pouring outside, and blended in with the cars honking out past the alleyway. Normally, you weren’t one for smoking. But after the stress of college finals week on top of the feeling of the walls closing in on you back inside Vesper, you’d asked one of your friends for their carton in hopes of calming your racing heart.

“Shit,” you murmured as you scoured your pant pockets for a lighter and then groaned when you failed to find one.

Because of course, your luck was anything but lucky and you really didn’t feel like trying to part the sea of sweaty people back inside in search of one. Pursing your lips, you let your head tip back against the brick wall behind you and let your eyes flit over the light polluted sky like it somehow held the answers to all of your life’s problems.

“Need a light?”

The addition of a new voice had you jumping away from the wall with a startled squeak. Hand pressed to your chest as if that would somehow restart your skipping heart, you whirled around. Standing in the now wide-opened back doorway into Vesper was a familiar face. Well, as familiar as a practical stranger could be.

Beneath the single, flickering light in the alley, his black t-shirt with SECURITY printed in white glowed in the surrounding darkness. It stretched itself over his broad shoulders, the bottom tucked into the slim waist of his pants. Your gaze slowly slid up his tanned neck, past his coral colored, pouty lips, sharp jaw, and the straight bridge of his nose. His wavy, dark hair was parted a little off-center, the sides falling over his forehead until it threatened to hide his stare from your view.

Finally, your eyes met his. Framed by long eyelashes, they were a bright, inhuman shade of lilac. Not all hybrids were equipped with the features of one, like a set of sensitive, animal-like ears or even a tail. If a human and a hybrid got together and had children, those kids would end up possessing more human cells than animal. Therefore, their appearances mirrored that.

But they were never completely indiscernible.

Just like every other time you’d ever laid your sights on him, your pulse skyrocketed and your stomach fell through the floor. And also like every other time, you pushed the feeling away and refused to acknowledge it. Because harboring a crush on a man who you’d only conversed with occasionally was a bad idea.

Especially when they were as handsome as he was.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook apologized shyly. His voice wasn’t too deep, nor was it high; lying right in the middle. Switzerland

“No, it’s alright.”

It was notalright, if only because the man made you feel flustered.

The only time the two of you really interacted was whenever he’d be scheduled to man security at Vesper’s entrance checking IDs. A small comment about the weather here, a compliment given with a flash of a smile with the reddening of cheeks there. Hell, the only reason you even knew his name was because it was etched onto the heart of his shirt.

“So,” Jungkook began, still standing in the doorway like some kind of club guardian. “Need a light?” He nodded his head at the unlit white stick tucked between your fingers, his parted hair brushing across his eyebrows with the movement.

“Oh. Yeah, you have one,” you asked.

He answered your query by pulling a lighter from the back of his pants pocket and finally slipped away from the door, leaving it open a crack so the two of you wouldn’t get locked out. The music flooding out from inside quieted down to a barely-there whisper. Pressing the cigarette between your lips, you almost faltered when he stepped close to you.

Jungkook’s body heat practically swallowed you whole as he entered your personal space with a cute smile pulling up at the corners of his lips. His two front teeth were a little too big for his mouth and you would’ve suspected his animal counterpart to be a bunny or rabbit of some sort if it wasn’t for his job. The small mammals tended to be pacifists and you doubted working as a security guard counted towards pacifism.

The lighter came to life with a clickand a tiny burst of flame, and you watched from beneath your lashes as he lit the end of your preferred cigarette. As soon as you felt the heat of the smoke sear itself into your lungs, a thought came to you.

“Wait,” you began, lowering the white stick from your lips to dangle from your cold fingers. “Doesn’t the smell bother you?”

Jungkook’s cheeks puffed up beneath the weight of another smile and he stepped back from crowding you to lean a shoulder against the brick wall. “My roommate, Yoongi, smokes. So I’m used to it.” He tapped a finger to his nose.

“If you’re sure,” you said hesitantly.

“I’m sure.”

Humming, you resumed your position of leaning against the brick, your shoulder only a few inches away from his. Hybrid’s tended not to wear perfume or cologne because of their elevated sense of smell, but Jungkook must have been wearing some. Or perhaps it was just the scent of his laundry detergent that drifted from his body like an invisible cloud.

It was comforting. In a way that you couldn’t quite understand.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you took a slow drag from your cigarette and made care to blow the resulting smoke away from him. “Ditching work?”

He was looking out past the alleyway and towards the busy street beyond. Jungkook’s side profile was stunning even in the near darkness. “Technically, I amworking.”

“Oh?” Your voice was filled with amusement. “Expecting someone to pop out from the darkness like Batman and attack the club?”

He snorted, his tongue darting out to wet his soft looking lips. “Batman would never attack a club.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Shrugging, you sneaked a peak over at him again to notice him already looking at you. His violet hued eyes glowed brightly as they roved over your features appreciatively.

“How about a first date then?”

You sputtered, choking on nothing except air at his blunt words. “I–what?”

Jungkook broke eye contact for a moment, your reaction coaxing a light shade of pink onto his cheeks. “I like you. And I know we don’t really know each other, but we always end up running into each other, which is why I want to change that.” He looked back at you, expression soft. “If you’re interested, of course.”

“I..,” swallowing, your mouth opened and closed in shock before your tongue finally let the syllables slip. “I would like that very much.”

His answering grin lit up the shadows lingering in the alleyway.

[whereflowersbloom]

Nursery

The evening light looks orange enough to catch fire through the window. Its such a nice day to start working on the most important room of their home. It’s more than just a room actually, the nursery.  It’s a precious and tangible promise. A promise of a life that would be full of everything a child should have.  A promise of a childhood free of pain or worry or neglect, one that would know unconditional love and attention in abundance. There was a large ivory rug that covered half of the gray hardwood floors, to the white furniture, which consisted of the changing table and dresser. They already had the antique birch and oak crib that belonged to the Wayne family. Pennyworth insisted they kept it.

Inside these mint green walls, no joy would ever be denied to him. Damian would make certain of that. Everything his son desired, every need satisfied, every wish made true. His child would be cared for, tenderly nurtured and assuredly protected. By all means. He would make sure to set consistent rules and limits, keep in mind that conflicts are one way that children first learn about self-control, compromise and cooperation that’s what he had read. They had been expecting Malik for six months and twelve days now. Yes, he was definitely keeping track of the days. He prepared a pregnancy calendar board marked with the ultrasound appointments, prenatal classes, and other details in case of emergency. Reminders. Raven had commented several times he tried too hard, but Damian had this compulsive need to be in control of everything. They were creating their own family together, As a future father Damian wanted everything down to the littlest detail to be perfect.

Was his first son’s arrival anticipated with so much enthusiasm from both Kent and Wayne family, his heart swelled with a familiar warmth. Malik would be loved and probably spoiled by his siblings. Jason was already saying he would teach him shoot accurately without missing a single target, as soon he was able to hold a toy blaster, Dick kept mentioning Mar’i needed a playmate preferably Tamaranean-proof, Tim as usual didn’t show much excitement but the last time there had been a spark of interest in his dark blue eyes when they showed his family the 4K ultrasound video from the last obstetrician’s appointment. Stephanie hoped he liked waffles. Malik would have a very different life. Father...Bruce was still digesting the news of becoming a grandfather. Damian could swear for a second caught the glimpse of an emotional Alfred tearing up tears of joy, the British man promised to be around to help in any way the young couple requested. A new Wayne heir.

He can’t help wondering at times, even under different circumstances. Did someone personally build him a nursery? He knew the obvious answer no. Did his mother think to baby-proof the whole League of Assassins compound? He highly doubted it.

Perhaps this was what fatherhood was about: Staying up at night, thinking incessantly about his son’s life and future, worrying about which school he would attend, if he would practice a sport, maybe basketball like Dick, or take after him, take interest in martial arts and swordsmanship. There was no need to get worked up over numbers for a college fund. Eventually he would be in charge of Wayne Enterprises, thankfully Drake sticked around to manage the overall operations, assist the board meetings, whenever Damian was away from Gotham due to Titans or Batman’s business. Drake indeed proved to be quite clever and capable. His mind went back to his son. Will Malik feel loved? Have absolutely no doubts he was wanted. Damian would be by his side ensuring he did. Silently vowing.

Now if only he could finish assembling the convertible crib. He hasn't tried to throw any items of furniture yet, but he's fraying dangerously close to actually doing it. This fucking manual was useless. Damian was currently siting on the hardwood floor, eyes carefully scanning the sheet of instructions again for the fifth time.

“Don’t tell me you’re still in here.” Raven asked her husband with hands on hips as she entered the room. Her long hair in a loose braid, wearing an oversized shirt and comfortable shorts. His green eyes focused on her round belly. She looked so beautiful with a life growing inside her. Her beauty stabbed at his heart like a great knife The miracle of procreation. A new life. Damian had spend the last two hours in the baby’s nursery, claiming he didn’t need help doing a simple task as building a crib. Not Grayson or Jon. Specifically not Conner Kent.

“I’m not leaving this room until this damn crib is properly assembled!” Damian replied obviously annoyed and frustrated. She could perceive his increasing frustration miles away. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Dealing with pregnancy hormones and an annoyed husband wasn’t easy.

“We could always ask Clark or Jon for help...” Raven suggested vaguely, violet eyes flickering around the room. It was unlikely that Batman had any experience when it comes to baby furniture. On second thought having two Kryptonians with superhuman strength, surrounded by fragile baby furniture...Idea dismissed.

“Over my dead body.” Damian muttered stubbornly, jaw set like the idea of asking for help is a personal insult.

Raven just shook her head and headed over the dresser and looked at several of the outfits that they already had for little Malik, who recently started kicking her with more force, at first it was just a tiny quiver, Raven admitted it was tremendously exciting when she felt it, like a flutter. Damian was there right next to her, wearing an amazed expression on his face, but then Malik began kicking more in the evening, recurrently, she noticed. He was also an early riser just like his father. She observed that some of the onesies were from some members of the Justice League. There’s was a Aquaman one, Flash, Superman, recalling it was a present from Clark and Jon. She smiled softly as she pulled out a black one with the Batman symbol on it with the words saying 'Future Batman' on it. She took it, turning around to show it to Damian with a raised eyebrow. “Whose ideas was this?”

“Don’t look at me. Grayson thought it would be an appropriate gift.” Damian muttered sulkily as he continued reading the manual of instructions for the crib he insisted assembling himself, studying it with knitted eyebrows. Was the manual in Swedish? What there anything this man couldn’t do? Except perhaps build this Swedish convertible crib which was clearly giving him a headache.

“Why am I not surprised?” She rolled her eyes as she caressed her swollen belly affectionately. She did it often, out of instinct. It felt so natural...yet strange. In less than three months she would become a mother.

Mother. She was about to be someone's mother. She had only ever pictured the idea in an abstract sort of way, never really picturing it clearly until Damian brought it up about four months after their engagement. Even after a Damian came into her life, she never imagined he would want to have a child with her, if she were being honest. She was not human. This child was not completely human and yet she was certain of risking her own life protecting from any harm. It’s the type of love that leaves you speechless at the end of the day. It’s a love so pure you almost think it can’t be real. Lois told her once all the forces on this planet will never beat that of a mother. Those words were probably a universal truth.

I am writing this oneshot but I’m not sure I can finish it. But here’s a fragment. I apologise if it isn’t that good but it’s 3am and I’m exhausted 😅😅😅

Malik belongs to @deep-in-mind67 💚💚💚💚

[zebrabaker]

Paris Stands Alone; Part 13

Part 12

This chapter’s art is...

As always, HUGE credits to @gajer-1226​ , for her amazing art!

Marinette groaned from her spot on the couch. Mullo had come down from relaxing in the sunroom a while ago, and the trio was sprawled out on the couch, cuddling under a blanket and watching a news report on the current Mayoral elections. Monsieur D’Argencourt was running again, despite having lost so many times in a row. His opponents were a strict woman who had been on the city council for years and was very conservative, and a man who was far more liberal but had little experience. She’d need to keep an eye on things politically, things like this always led to stronger Akumas, be they the politicians themselves or angry citizens.

Right as she had begun to debate with herself whether or not she should go back to bed the whole house shook, and she heard screaming in the streets.

“Son of a bitch…let’s go.” She rolled off the couch with a heavy sigh. “What are we betting on this time?” She asked, stretching and rolling her neck gently.

“Oh! Animal!” Mullo squeaked, perking up. She and the Kwamis had invented a game of betting on what the Amoks would be, winner getting to pick what game they would play on the household game night. If there was a tie, they would do a coin toss.

“I imagine after this morning they’ll go for inanimate.” Tikki yawned. “Ready whenever you are, Marinette!”

“Spots on!” She cried, smirking when she saw a portal appear a few feet away from her, put of sight of the windows. Leaping through, she let loose a battle cry as the world sharply shifted.

X0X0X

The Amok was a rampaging, canine beast, with massive fangs and glowing red eyes, and a hissing, spitting cobra for a tail. It looked like a terrifying mix of a pit-bull and a Doberman pinscher. Nightmare had taken to the rooftops, opening a portal that Ladybug leaped through with a mighty cry. She flung her yoyo at a flagpole and yanked it tight, swinging towards the beast feet-first. She slammed it across the snout, making it whine and stumble. A figure dropped from another portal in the sky, this one swirling blue and white, the figure indistinguishable.

“No way!” Teacup squealed, bouncing in place.

“What is that?” Batman asked, drawing a batarang.

“That is someone we don’t see very often.” Cat Sidhe muttered.

“Who?” Wonder Woman asked, fidgeting with her lasso.

“Bunnyx, the wielder of the Rabbit Miraculous. Her Miracle is called Burrow, it allows her to transverse the timestream with ease. She only visits on important occasions, or if she needs to warn us away from something. She’s the one who sent Jade Turtle out on patrol the night he died saving that girl from the disgraced one. Let’s go say ‘hi’, everyone.” Yellow Jacket was smirking as she took off running for the edge of the building. Right as she reached the edge, she grabbed a dagger from her boot and flung it at the beast at the same time as she flung her trompo at the same flagpole Ladybug had swung from. The dagger nailed the beast (presumably an Amok) in the eye, and it howled in agony and rage. It thrashed and stomped it’s feet, which were the size of minivans. It managed to take the corner off a building, making the civilians evacuating along the sidewalks scream.

Snapping Turtle dove into action, drawing their shield in a fluid motion and shouting something lost beneath the sound of the monster’s howls. A green semi-opaque dome made of hexagons appeared, surrounding a small family and the hero in question from the rubble raining from above. The shield didn’t even flicker or waver, merely protecting the small family as Snapping Turtle scooped one of the three small children up and prepping the family to move.

Vixen, standing on the rooftop, drew her reedpipes from her belt, and slowly began to play a haunting tune. Cat Sidhe, picking up on some hidden signal, made a series of gestures with the hand that bore his ring, before uttering a word that made the Americans shudder. It was dark and dank, this feeling, like the paranoia of being out late at night with shadows looming and every sound inducing panic.

From the ring began to emerge a shadowy figure. It morphed itself slowly into a humanoid figure, dressed in all white, with features that seemed to whisper ‘not right, not human, predator!’ in the ears of all who saw it. It was the unnatural smoothness of it’s skin and features, the inverted colors, with white pupils and black irises, hair that started pure white and faded to dull purple. It seemed to be a doll, unmoving, until Cat Sidhe spoke.

“Distract the Amok for me.” He ordered, and the inhuman thing melted into a pool of shadows, before the puddle seemed to dart away towards the Amok.

“What was that?” Nightwing asked uneasily.

“That was his Grace’s secondary ability, Nyx. It creates an inverted clone of pure destruction energy. You don’t want to be around when it self-destructs, that’s for damn sure.” Roi Singe sighed. “I’ll stay back this time; I don’t want to throw you guys off.”

“Alright. I’m off. Vixen, you good?” The fox, who was still playing her pipes, which were emitting a light orange mist, nodded slowly. The mist was descending to the streets below, and Cat Sidhe went running towards the edge of the building, going into a diver’s position as he plummeted towards the street below. Barely twenty feet above the pavement, the cat hero drew his baton and extended it, slamming the end into the ground so hard that it dented the asphalt as he vaulted towards the Amok, which was now biting and snapping as Ladybug and Yellow Jacket darted around it’s head. There was another heroine, this one in blue and white with roller skates on her feet, moving too fast for anyone to properly see her.

The orange mist, which now filled the entire block, suddenly blew towards the Amok, whirling around it as if being held by a tornado. A glance at Vixen proved that her fingers were dancing over her pipes faster than ever, and Batman felt on edge. He’d never been a fan of magic.

The mist rapidly coalesced into a large, feline shape, similar to the Amok in it’s unnatural size. The feline let out a powerful yowl, and swiped with massive claws at the Amok. The Amok (Who Yellow Jacket insisted on calling ‘Fluffy) growled and pounced at the beast, only to be entangled in the wires of Ladybug and Yellow Jacket’s weapons as the illusion dissolved into mist once more.  As the wires pulled taught around the Amok, Cat Sidhe’s Nyx reappeared before the beast, darting every which way and holding it’s attention. The beast, desperate in it’s rage to attack the tiny unnatural thing in front of it, thrashed and wriggled, trying to get itself lose, and only succeeded in tightening the wires. Slowly, Cat Sidhe snuck up behind the Amok, right hand raised in front of him as if he was trying to smack a fly. Right as the Amok snapped it’s jaws closed around the clone, Cat Sidhe slammed his hand into a thin red collar around Fido’s neck. The dog let out a startled, pained yelp, and was encased in a squirming mass of dark blue bubbles, which hissed and popped as the Amok shrank. Ladybug stood, waiting, and yanked on her yoyo string, which came zipping back into her palm. It wasn’t until the mass was barely any bigger than an American football that a peacock feather appeared that she acted, gently swinging her yoyo to catch it. When she had the feather secured, she flung her yoyo high into the air, crying out a string of words that felt like pure safety.

It was after the loveliness had faded that the final bubbles faded away, revealing a small, emaciated puppy, who’s bones showed through it’s skin, and it seemed to shiver as it looked up at all the heroes surrounding it. It snarled and snapped, cowering from the heroes around it.

“Wait, that was the eight-story tall monster that just did at least half a million in property damage?” Nightwing asked, walking up behind the Court members.

“This is why Hawkmoth and Mayura are so dangerous, they turn even the most innocuous, innocent little thing into something that can kill hundreds.” Vixen explained, landing behind them lightly, as if she hadn’t just jumped ten stories.

“What will happen to the poor thing?” Wonder Woman asked, watching as the puppy shied away from Ladybug’s hand as if expecting to be hit.

“Well, Fidel already has several dogs. They naturally love her, and Yellow Jacket has been talking about setting up a sanctuary for stray dogs. This one, however, seems to have developed a liking towards her Ladyship.” Roi Singe chuckled, watching as the small dog pressed it’s head into Ladybug’s palm.

“And lord only knows that my Melody could never turn away an animal in need.” Cat Sidhe said, approaching them casually. “Thanks for staying out of the way back there, it could have been bad if someone got hurt.”

“You’re in charge here.” Batman said gruffly.

“Still, we might have an issue. I have some stuff that needs me back home, so I was thinking one of my brothers could come over and help you guys out.”

“We’ll talk about it more tomorrow, for now we all need to split before the press starts getting pushy and Vixen, Bunnyx, and I transform back.” Ladybug said, holding the small dog in her arms. The canine was cuddled up close to her, soaking in her body heat. “Ready, love?” She asked Cat Sidhe, who nodded and sent a glare at a woman with pinkish hair who was coming their way, a camera crew behind her. “Bug out!” Ladybug said, winking to the cameras and flinging her yoyo (which should not be able to go that far) at a flagpole on a nearby building. Cat Sidhe began to extend his baton, before letting it fall, vaulting off down the street.

X0X0X

Nadya watched as Ladybug and Cat Sidhe left the scene, and the various Court members disappeared to the rooftops. This was perfect! And yet, right as she approached, Batman drew a grappling hook from his belt, fired at a gargoyle on a nearby building, and went flying off, and Wonder Woman barely waved to the camera before flying away. At least the remaining hero, a young man dressed in black and blue, took a moment to smile and give a dramatic bow before somehow climbing a brick wall. These heroes were ruining her poor ratings! Well, she still had that Ladyblogger girl’s number…

@krispydefendorpolice​ @ficsforthestars​ @multifandomscribette​ @legendaryneckjudgestudent​ @ash-amg-blog @bee-wrecker​ @dawnwave16​ @the-supreme-ace-queen @politelyvicious​ @stonestridernerd​ @justmdj​ @stingrowl​ @damianette-is-life​ @miraculous786​ @mjisntme​ @hauntedfreakdeputyhero​ @miraculousdisapointment @lesscooltodoroki @bb-basbusa​ @isabellemasen​ @sassydepression​ @imspectralboiii​ @spicybelladonna​ @moonystars14​ @frostymoon11 @worlds-tiniest-spookiest-pastry @spartanxhunterx​ @fandoms-run-my-life​ @chocolateherringtacofan​ @imburningneon @fandomsaremylifeline​ @risingmoonyue​ @zotinha456​

[thepeacetea]

Mistake of a Lifetime

I LIVE!!!!!!! Hey everyone! I don’t know what happened last month. It was like my brain shut down. It was the worst feeling ever. I just couldn’t write. Which was insanely frustrating. But I’m back and off of work for the next three week due to COVID-19. And since I’m not venturing into the outside world, hopefully I’ll be able to get more writing done!!! So thank you all for being patient with me. I honestly have absolutely no idea where this story came from, but enjoy my beauties. Warning, there is a tiny, little bit of swearing but nothing major. As always, if you have any questions or comments feel free to let me know. Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy!!! Peace!!!

Damian was frustrated. He couldn’t find that girl anywhere. He knew when he explained what he had done what he did that she would understand. His angel always did. She loved him too much to stay mad at him for long. Once she learned why, Damian knew that she would come back. That’s one of the reasons he loved her, she was so trusting and forgiving. No matter what he did, he knew she would welcome him back with open arms. But right now, he was irritated with his girlfriend. She hadn’t been in contact with any of the family in five months. No one knew where she was. Tim couldn’t even find her. It was as if she just disappeared. Which is what led him here, to what was hopefully the door of his best friend’s apartment. If anyone would know where Marinette was, it would be Jon.

Finding the apartment had been a slightly more difficult then Damian had first thought. Jon wasn’t one for covering his civilian tracts, usually allowing anyone, if they so wished, to track him down. But he had been strangely quiet the past few months. Superboy had also been absent from the hero scene. When Damian had inquired as to why, no one could supply a straight answer. Jon had spoken to his parents every few weeks to assure them that he was fine, but other then that, no one knew much.

The search for apartments rented out to a Jonathan Samuel Kent had turned up blank, as did all the other alias that Damian could think his best friend might possibly use. It eventually arrived at the point that Damian had run his handwriting through the data base to find a match for a signature. Eight states and eleven empty apartments later, Damian Wayne found himself climbing the squeaking steps to the apartment located above a little Chinese restaurant in the middle of Chinatown, San Francisco.

‘Honestly Jon, the other places where far better off then this,’ Damian muttered as he knocked on the door. The sound of scuffling followed by multiple items falling sparked a flicker of hope from the Wayne heir. Though he would never tell Jon this, Damian had missed his idiot of a friend.

“Buy too much at the market again? M, I told you, just get what we need for dinner tonight and we’ll get the rest tomor . . .” Jon said opening the door, the laughter that was oh so evident in his voice died the moment he saw who was at his door.

Damian watched as a wave of emotions filtered across his friend’s face. Surprise, confusion, and doubt where all understandable, at least in Damian’s opinion, but when Jon’s face finally settled on a mixture of anger and disgust, Damian grew confused and slightly irritated. He had not come all this way nor spent all that time looking for him to be received like that. Not by Kent, not by anyone.

“What are you doing here, Wayne?”

Now that caught him off guard. Damian could not, for the life of him, remember a single moment when Jon had referred to him, or anyone, by their last name. Ever.

“Tt, came looking for you. No one’s seen so much as a flutter of your cape in five month. The last time anyone heard from you was your parents, six weeks ago.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. Now if there’s nothing else . . .” Jon said, closing the door, causing Damian to bit back a growl. He did not come all this way to get a door shut in his face.

“Actually, there is,” Damian countered, forcing the door back open as Jon sent a chilling glare his way, nearly causing him to laugh. If Kent thought he could scare Damian, the only blood son of Bruce Wayne, the Batman, with that poor excuse of a glare, he was in for a nasty surprise. “I need to know if you’ve seen my girlfriend?”

Damian was expecting many things, but none of them was the utterly disgusted scoff that came from the dark-haired young man as his face twisted into a scowl.

“Yeah. Two weeks ago. On tv. At the Wayne Gala. You remember, she was hanging off your arm like one of those rich people’s lapdogs. You know, the really yappy ones.” He said, something sparking in his eyes, though Damian couldn’t quiet place it.

“Not the Italian she-devil, you idiot. I mean Marinette.” Damian strained, actively using more force to push the door open as Jon was closing it. The disbelieving laugh that left the young half-kryptonian surprised Damian.

“Mar is not your girlfriend anymore, Wayne. Remember? YOU broke up with her five months ago. And then YOU announced that you were dating that – that – Rossi girl the next day on national tv.”

“Look Kent, all I want to know is if you know where she is or not, because I need to talk with her.” Damian ground out as he began to lose what little leverage he had on the door. The half second hesitation and slight dilation of Jon’s eyes was all Damian need to know whatever came out of his friend’s mouth was a lie.

“No.”

“You were always a terrible liar Kent.” Damian stated. Taking advantage to the slight surprise, Damian force the door open, stepping inside before the other man could react.

The apartment itself was rather small, though Damian was use to having far more space then needed. The apartment was an open floor concept. The only thing separating the kitchen from the living room was a counter that extended from the wall, cutting the room in half. A worn couch was sitting in the middle of the main room with a small coffee table in front of it. A tv was pushed against the wall, a few open movie cases lay scattered across the stand with a gaming console tucked neatly underneath. A bookshelf was shoved into the far corner. A fallen stack of books lay by a beaded doorway that Damian could only assumed lead to a bedroom. A few pictures adorned the walls, though Jon drew Damian’s attention before he could get a chance to identify who was in them.

“What the heck do you think you’re doing? I didn’t invite you in! Get out!” Jon said, his voice raising an octave, jabbing his finger towards the door.

“And here I thought your mother taught you hospitality,” Damian countered, enjoying the growl his comment caused. “As for what I’m doing here, I already informed you why. I want to know where my angel is and I need you to tell me.”

“Never. Gonna. Happen! What makes you think you have any right to see her let alone call her ‘yours’?” Jon growled, actually growled, at Damian. Under any other circumstances, he would have been impressed that the cheerful, happy Kansas native sounded so . . . threatening in his questioning. But Damian was quickly reaching the end of his already short patience. Pinning the other man with a glare that would have made his father proud, Damian watched as the other subconsciously straightened to his full height.

“I’m bringing her back, where she belongs. The Rossi mission is over and I want my Angel back.”

For five seconds, Jon stood there, brows drawn together in confusion as his brain processed what was said. Five seconds where he could have been telling Damian where his girlfriend was, Jon just stood there.

“. . . what?”

“Lila Rossi held vital, insider information of a new program which my mother and Dr. Hugo Strange were developing. We needed the information, but more importantly, we needed Rossi to trust us. I, obviously, was the best candidate for the job. Father and the others helped plan and execute it. We have the information we need and the parties involved have been dealt with appropriately, including Rossi.”

“. . . all of this . . . everything . . . was for a mission?” Jon asked quietly, his voice calm as he bent his head, his bangs covering his eyes. Damian let a small smile slip. He knew Jon would understand, and once he told him where his angel was, she would too.

“Yes. Now I need to know where . . .” Damian began to say when the left side of his face erupted in pain as the sound of something breaking filled the air. Whether it was his jaw or the picture frames he landed against, he didn’t know. He didn’t have the time to figure out as he was hauled to his feet and slammed into the wall, his head smashing into an other picture. Once Damian’s vision cleared, confused emerald met rage filled electric blue.

“You mean to tell me, that everything, Every hatful word, Every cutting remark, Every. Single. Day! Marinette spent CRYING was for some GOD DAMN MISSION!?!” Jon yelled, pulling Damian closer as his eyes flashed back and forth between blue and red, and for the first time in a long time, Damian felt fear. “Do you have any idea how much you hurt her!?!”

“It was a sacrifice necessary for the completion of the mission. Once she knows that, she’ll understand!” Damian shouted, defending himself. Everyone who knew agreed. The action was necessary for the mission. Without it, the whole mission would have been unnecessarily complicated. Even Clark and Diana had agreed, so why couldn’t Jon?

“Sacrifice? Is that what you think this was?” Jon hissed, eyes steadily changing from blue to solid red. “You broke her!”

“I didn’t . . .” Damian started to say before he was slammed against the wall again, causing the remaining pictures to fall, glass breaking on impact.

“SHUT UP!!!” Jon screamed. If it was possible, Damian saw his eyes fill with more rage then he had ever seen in one person, Jason included. “You know nothing! You broke her Wayne. She trusted you! After everything that happened to her, after being abandoned by so many others, she trusted you and you broke her! She gave her heart to YOU! Marinette gave you everything, only for you to turn around and throw her away like trash!”

“Jon,” Damian tried to say, but Jon wasn’t done.

“Do you know how I found her? After I found out you not only broke up with her but then decided to date the person that made her life a living hell, I spent six, SIX, hours looking for her. I finally found her on the roof where we first met her. She was just sitting there, on the edge, looking over the city. When she finally looked at me, her face was completely blank. No trace of emotion. The only real sign of life was how red and swollen her eyes were from crying. Do you want to know the first thing she said to me? ‘He left me.’ ‘He LEFT me!’” Jon snarled. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep her going after that. What it was like seeing her like that. Do you know what its like seeing someone who’s so full of life to just wilt in front of you. To see them lose everything that made them who they are.” Jon asked, his voice dropping in grief as his grip on Damian shirt loosened.

“Jon, I know. I hurt her. I know. That’s why I need to talk to her. I know my angel. Once I tell her, once I explain, everything will be fine.”

“No, Wayne. I don’t think you do know her.” Jon said, completely letting go of him as if he couldn’t stand touching him. “I know Mar better then my own mind at this point. She is the most trusting and kindest person you will ever meet, but even she has her limits.” He hissed, turning his back on his once friend, running his hands through his hair in anger and frustration.

All Damian could do was stare at the person, who had for the longest time, been his only friend. Steadying himself against the wall, the young Wayne looked down. Trying to gather his thoughts. To think of something to say when one of the picture frames caught his eye. Gingerly picking it up, Damian found himself looking through shattered glass at what appeared to be an ultra-sound photo sitting beside one the soon to be mother. Barely legible through the broken glass was Jon’s handwriting, ‘Mama and baby at eight months.’ The photo was dated three days ago. Damian couldn’t stop staring. There, through the shattered glass, stood HIS angel, her belly swollen to the point where it looked ready to burst, smiling at the camera.

What Damian was seeing wasn’t making sense. Eight months pregnant. They had broken up five months ago. He knew she had never slept with another guy before. Her first time had been with him. Once. Three months before they broke up. Eight months ago. She was pregnant. She was eight months pregnant.

His mind flashed to the last time he had seen her. The day he had ‘broken up’ with her. She had an appointment the day. A doctor’s appointment. She hadn’t been feeling well for the last few weeks. She had wanted to tell him something after the appointment. She had sounded so excited over the phone. She promised she’d tell him over dinner but he had gone first, telling her they were over. She had looked so heartbroken. So devastated. She never got a chance to tell him her news

Suddenly, the frame was torn from his hands but the damage had been done. He knew. Lifting his eyes, Damian met Jon’s gaze. Utter shock met panicked anger. For a few moment’s neither spoke. Neither man knew what say or how to react.

“Jon, I’m so sorry I’m back late! I distracted chatting with Aunty Liu and Grandpa Zhao wanted to know how the baby’s doing and then Mama Zhang wanted to give me some tea that’s suppose to help with my back pain an . . .” The sweet, sweet voice of his angel broke through the apartment before abruptly cutting off.

Damian’s whole body twisted toward the door faster then he thought possible. There, standing in the doorway, was the most beautiful sight Damian had ever seen. His angel, dressed in a soft, baby blue shirt that proudly displayed her heavily pregnant belly and black pant, stood completely frozen as her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes that he had missed so, so much, darted between the apartment and the two occupant.

Damian took a step forward, she instinctively took one back, panic blooming in her eyes.

“Beloved I . . .”

Damian never got father then that. As soon as he spoke, Marinette’s face drained of colour as she turned and bolted from the apartment as fast as a woman of her condition could. He raced to follow, to hold her and tell her everything would be alright. That he would take care of her and their child. Their child! The very thought of his child sent an unbelievable wave of joy coursing through him! He was going to be a father! Damian was going to spoil his angel, his beloved, rotten. They would need to have one of the manor rooms renovated into a nursery. He would need to have someone take over his patrol for the next few month, his child and soon-to-be wife would need him and . . .

Both Damian’s train of thought and path was halted by the very painful grip on his arm. Fully ready to bite Jon’s head off, Damian was silenced by the red tinted glare his friend was giving him. He immediately notice how tense Jon was. He looked like he was ready for a fight, one that the kryptonian knew he would win.

“No. You are not going after her. The last thing Mar needs is this kind of stress this far in the pregnancy.”

“But . . .”

“I said no Wayne! Mar almost lost the baby once already. I am not going to allow her to go through that again! She can’t go through that again. I can’t handle going through that again!” Jon hissed, dropping his hold on Damian’s arm as he made a beeline for the stairs.

“Jon!” Damian yelled, hoping against hope that he would change his mind. That was his girlfriend and his child, damn it. He needed to be with them.

“No, Damian! Just . . . just go. You’ve done enough.” Jon shouted as he disappeared down the stairs.

Jon’s last comment caused the young heir to pause. He had done enough? He hadn’t been given a chance to fix what he had done. How could he have done enough? Sure, he had messed up royally, but he wanted to fix it. Why wouldn’t Jon let him fix it?

Pushing those questions aside, Damian ran down the stair, praying that he would at least catch a glimpse of his beloved. But the scene that met him as he burst into the street somehow drove Jon’s parting words home. There, braced against the wall of the building across from him, was Marinette. She was curled up as tightly as she physically could be, her face buried in Jon’s shirt as she let out the most heart wrenching sobs. Damian’s body refused to move as he watched Jon gently rock the mother of his child. His body refused to move as he watched the other man stroked her hair, promising to never leave her, whispering soft words of comfort to her as he planted butterfly kisses on her head. That he would always be there. That no one was going to hurt her. That she was safe.

Seconds turned into minutes before he could summon the strength to do what Jon had said. Casting one last look at his angel, his Marinette, Damian knew that taking that mission, that leaving her, had been the worst mistake of his life.

[rason-rodd]

The Night(wing) Before Christmas

Summary: Damian tries to convince Dick to come to dinner for Christmas. But duty calls and a weird surprise awaits Dick. Do you believe in Santa Claus?

Warning: No pairing. Just a family Christmas-themed OS.

Author’s note: This would certainly be the last Bat-Christmas one shot. I decided not to make it a Dick x Reader (though it was initially the plan) because I wanted to give Dick and Damian the chance to reconnect. Hope you will like it. 

Blüdhaven was never quiet. Blüdhaven was always restless. Lively. Noisy. Blüdhaven was like him. In shades of jet-black and neon-blue. Shining. Glowing. Like a beacon by the ocean.     But tonight, Blüdhaven was not blue. Blüdhaven was red. Blüdhaven was green. Blüdhaven was yellow. Blüdhaven was merry. Blüdhaven was childish. Blüdhaven was a little boy waiting for his gift in a small circus trailer, counting days and eating chocolate. Blüdhaven was getting ready for Christmas.       But Dick Grayson was not.   “You know Father still insists that you come celebrate Christmas with us at the manor this year.” Slumped on the chimney, feet hanging and swinging in the air, Damian Wayne was playing with a birdarang like a bored child waiting for action, demonstrating nonchalance and casualness that could have almost seemed natural and sincere if it hadn’t been for his little green eyes peeping at his brother’s every reactions. “I still have to think about it, Damian.”     Damian clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest to sulk in silence. “Todd said he was coming.” Dick snickered at the boy’s remark – which sounded more like a reproach - finding certain amusement in seeing Damian’s childish disappointment. “So who are you going to spend Christmas with? The poor waitress you used to date?” Those last few words were enough to erase the smile on Dick’s face. “Bea and I are over, Damian. I told you, didn’t I?” Damian shrugged and jumped from his perch to come and kneel by his brother by the edge of the rooftop they were on. “She wasn’t good enough for you, anyway.” And that was a lame attempt at comforting by Damian Wayne, ladies and gents.             “Well, if I listen to you, Damian, no one is ever good enough for me. You said the same thing about Shawn when we broke up.”         “Shawn? Oh right the mediocre artist/ villain you thought you had got pregnant. Almost forgot about her. What a lousy list of conquests you have under your belt, Grayson.” Dick’s jaw clenched to prevent any hurtful commentary to come out of his mouth. There was no point in debating with Damian in that situation. Dick knew well than to take his words seriously. After all, they were just part of a clumsy technique to attract attention, not ill intentioned at all and not to be taken seriously.

Police sirens suddenly screamed in the avenue under their feet, flickering blue and red. A code of alert. A perfect way to escape Damian. “Got to go.” And without any other word, Dick leaped over the edge of the building, grapple gun in hand, ignoring his little brother yelling at him “See you next Thursday at 6.” and his classic “Grayson, you fool.” when he didn’t get an answer.

Dick wasn’t a huge fan of car chases. Though appearing as simple and routine at first sight, he found them to be the most dangerous and scariest of a superhero’s everyday (or night) missions. They needed an extreme vigilance that was hard to fully have: requiring his attention to be sharp and focused on both the criminals and the police as well as the road and especially any citizen who were unfortunate enough to be on the way. But full vigilance didn’t mean no light-hearted commentary.     “Where are you guys going with an organ recovery vehicle? The hospital is the other way. Might wanna update the GPS and reconsider the music. Last Christmas I stole you your heart would be more fitting for organs traffickers”     “Nightwing!” The driver exclaimed as his partner in crime pulled his gun from his holster to shoot him. “Yeah that’s me.  And you might wanna give me that.” Dick said as he quickly seized the gun to throw it through the car window. “Now pull over before Santa hears about what bad boys you two have been this year.”   “Screw you, punk!”   “As you wish.” Dick rolled his eyes, acting dramatically annoyed, and grabbed the wheel, taking the two men by surprise. “What are you doing?” They asked, screaming at him. “Checking the airbags.” He declared as he voluntarily led the speeding car towards a barricaded construction site knowing perfectly that there were no workers in there tonight. ”Hang on.”

The car hit the metal fence, bending it as if it was a mere piece of paper. Then it left the ground and flew right towards a hole of fresh concrete. When it landed, all the bodywork crashed like a can of tomato soup and the windows broke, leaving the two criminals screaming in fear. But their yells were brief, chocked by the airbags that suddenly inflated due to the powerful noisy impact.             “Airbags, check. MOT test, over. You may get down of the vehicle gentlemen.” Nightwing said as he opened the door. But the two men were so stunned and terrified they couldn’t move. “Or you can wait here. That’s fine as well.”

The police car who had been chasing the two men suddenly parked on the site and a couple of officers ran to the accident car, guns in hands. Among them Detective Elise Svobada, Nightwing’s own Jim Gordon except that Jim Gordon had never kissed Batman. A memory that still made Dick want to puke. “Good job, tights.”             “A compliment? Christmas makes you soft, Svoboda.” Dick smirked as he let the woman pushed the driver out of the car. “Don’t get used to it.”   “Detective, the heart must be delivered in less than 15 minutes. We won’t be there on time. Not with this traffic.” Svoboda’s partner declared, panicking and trembling like a Chihuahua.           “Damn it!” Svoboda kicked the tire of the car, angry and wondering what to do now. “Nightwing, do you think you can…” But there was no need to finish the sentence as the vigilante was already far away, swinging from building to building, the box containing the precious organ in his hand. “Thanks, kid… Nelson, call the hospital. Tell them there’s a special delivery.”

There’s nothing more gratifying than knowing you saved a life, except maybe knowing that you saved a life on Christmas. Makes you feel like some heroic caped Santa Claus in a way.           But Dick never chose to become a vigilante for gratification or fame. He never wished for a thank you or some sort of admiration. Dick chose to become a vigilante to help people, to see the smiles on their face, that glimmer of hope shining in their eyes when they thought all hope was gone. Dick chose to become a vigilante to make the world a better place.            

“That girl owes you her life.” The white-bearded doctor said as he shook Dick’s hand with a gratitude that was making the happy tears in his eyes sparkle like stars. “She doesn’t owe me anything.” And no one could doubt his sincerity. “Still what you did was very noble, boy. Thanks to you this young lady will be able to spend Christmas with her loved ones. And I hope you will as well. After all there’s nothing more important than family.”           “We’ll see about that. Merry Christmas, Doctor.” He said as he headed towards the exit. “Merry Christmas, Richard.”

Dick froze and quickly turned around, wondering if he had heard right or if it was his fatigue playing tricks on him. But the old doctor was already gone and nowhere to be seen. Did he know the Batman’s disappearance act, too? “You really need to sleep, Nightwing.” “Indeed you look awful.” The nonchalant voice of Damian Wayne suddenly made Nightwing jump. That little demon could be so stealthy sometimes. “Would not want you to look like a walking dead at dinner. We already have Todd for that.”           “How did you find me?”       “Heard the police radio. No need to be a genius to do so.” He clicked his tongue as he crossed his tiny arms over his small chest. “So you saved the mayor’s daughter. Congratulations. What now?”           “The mayor’s daughter?”   “Yes. The two criminals wanted to use her as a way to corrupt the mayor.” Dick frowned. “What? Did you really think there was some sort of organs trafficking in Blüdhaven? Hello! It’s Blüdhaven not Gotham! You know the place where you’re expected on Thursday.” Dick laughed and tousled his little brother’s hair to annoy him. “Alright, little guy. I’ll be there.”   “Thank you.” Damian sighed deeply.         “Don’t thank me. Thank Santa.” Dick corrected him, still thinking about that weird old doctor. “Don’t try to choke with some cheesy Christmas spirit.” Damian declared as he pointed his fingers at Dick who were chuckling. “Alright.” He complied, gently grabbing Damian by the arm. “Wanna go drink some hot cocoa at my place?”           “Are you sweet-talking me?” Damian glared at his brother, not really knowing how to take the offer. “Maybe.”             “Would there be marshmallows in the cup?” Dick grinned and hugged his brother. “Of course.”    

[oh-for-fic-sake]

A Man And His Cat

You both explore pet play.

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult situations +18 , Pet play, Spanking, Oral, Its kinky

A/n: Sooo who wants smut? my quarantine imagine went down well so here is another dirty fic. This will probably be a mini series feel free to send me your kinks and I will try and incorporate them. I am still working on my other stories slowly but on a little writers block and I may or may not have re-watched superman vs batman so look out as there might be some more dc on the horizon because omg I nearly forggot how yummy they were. Anyway here is another smut piece for you all hope you enjoy xx

Taglist @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​

A Man And His Cat

You lounged across the sofa in your hello kitty onesie playing your xbox, you'd gotten Jurassic world evolution and was currently snickering letting your t-rex run around eating people. Henry was upstairs you could hear him moving around in the study. The door bell went off you quickly got up wrestling kal out of the way to answer it hearing the post man call out he had left it on the bin you thanked him bringing the large box inside with a few letters piled on top. Not thinking anything of it you brought the post in kicking the door shut behind you.

"Babe what the fuck?" You froze not sure at first what you'd done wrong

"Shit hands! hands! sanitize them quick! we cant take chances! Your not supposed to answer the door I've told you that! Were in London! For Christ sake" He said rushing to you snatching the post handing you the sanitizer that sat on the table by the door. You shook your head quickly rubbing the sanitizer over your hands letting it soak in as Henry shook his head at you watching closely.

"Sorry, sorry I forgot" he sighed since receiving your official 'shielding'  letter from the government Henry had been a little mother hen....papa bear? Either way he was on edge hounding you about keeping your hands clean not touching anything that could possibly be infected or letting anyone other than himself with in 6ft of you. He even made you take your temperature each day with good reason tho your heart clenched things were getting bad the infection and death rates climbing each day ,there was rumors that the UK was on the course to being just like Italy and Spain. In a way his worrying was your fault when the letter came through Henry had freaked out a bit, it hit him hard when he realized it wasn't just speculation it was a fact that if you caught this thing it would most likely kill you and he was shook to the core. It didn't help when you'd only told him a few days prior not to worry about your condition that it was under control ,which technically it was every two months you was having blood tests every so often your blood count would dip a little but you normally managed it with your diet just eating more meat usually does it, the protein helping your count go up a little. You didn't bore him with the details he didn't need to know to much, you knew what to do and when to do it, it was normal for you. You feel yourself getting rough you get a blood test and up your steroids, you feel better you lower them back down the main goal being avoiding blood transfusions. But Henry had insisted he needed to know everything now he said it'd make him feel better so you told him, sat him down and explained that somehow your body can survive on a borderline blood count it should be 120 to 150 yours hovers around 100 to 110... If your lucky, not low enough for a transfusion but low enough to cause a few problems if it drops any more the lowest it got in recent years was 57.... yeah that wasn't fun, you'd spent two whole days seven till seven getting transfusions then had to go back to have the iron in your blood taken out....It was not pretty, but since then you'd been more careful. You explained the fact that your immune system was practically non-existent you caught chicken pox a year before and it nearly killed you two days after the spots appeared causing all sorts of issues pneumonia, bacterial infections in the heart and lungs then sepsis resulting in a few weeks in hospital in the infectious diseases unit so yeah safe to say catching this thing would be bad. Henry bless him was gobsmacked he knew you was anemic ,that was it, he had enough on his plate you didn't want to add to it.You leaned back on the side unit by the door trying to pet kal who sniffed at your hand then snorted walking off, he didn't like the sanitizer one bit.

"Henry I'm sorry I just-it keeps slipping my mind" he nodded wrapping you up in a bear hug resting his chin on your head.

"I know baby I'm sorry for snapping... I just don't want to loose you, stay indoors and stay safe those aren't just the government's rules ,their my rules as  well baby girl remember?" You nodded kissing his chest before replying.

"Yes daddy" then turned and walked to the living room again noticing kal playing in his small cubby hole that had been a cupboard until recently, it had been turned into his own little bed room, complete with bed, night light and shelves that had some family photos of the three of you, you blew him a kiss and he huffed plonking his head down on his fluffy bed stretching out ready for his morning nap, you settled back down to play your game. Henry used the sanitizer then ran a hand through his hair sighing he picked up the post bringing it in placing the large box on the counter. He smirked realizing what it was. His order from bondara ignoring the letters he quickly got a knife slicing open the box. Henry routed around in the box like a kid on Christmas excited he headed up stairs to collect his other investments. You was pulled out of your game by Henry combing your hair back with his fingers pulling it up and back into a high ponytail, something you had no idea he could do, you paused the game turning to him but he held you still facing the TV then you felt them. He had clipped your little fluffy grey kitty ears in your hair pulling the pony tail tighter to secure the bottom of the crocodile clips. You brought a hand up to them confused a little touching them softly. He walked to the side smiling cooing at you

"There she is my precious little kitty! Just look at how cute you are?" You flushed at him as he bent down petting between your 'ears' then he growled in your ear.

"I could just eat you all up" you mewled rocking on the sofa a little anticipating the way this would turn out he gasped a little.

"But whats this? you still need your collar how will anyone know you have a loving owner if you don't have a cute little collar on?" he strode across the room plucking something from the box and retrieved a few more items from the counter that you hadn't known was there ,now tho you could clearly see a folded black towel you moaned at the implication he must have brought it down from upstairs turning he made his was back to you this time standing in front of you.

"As much as I did like your own kitten collar I got you a new one, not from bondara I didn't like theirs much but thankfully etsy is still up and running, here it is see?" You gasped as he revealed a pink leather choker with a pretty lace and ruffle design making it look more like a fancy Lolita choker then a kitty collar apart from the large rose gold D ring hanging from the middle just below a dark pink bow and medium-sized rose gold bell You quickly made to grab for it but he pulled it out of reach .

"No let me do it" you quickly held your head high stretching your neck for him to put it on he chuckled at how eager you was, you smiled wide as he quickly placed it around your neck you sighed when you felt the inside was a little padded with a soft almost suede like material. He spun it around so the bell and D ring was central then hooked two fingers inside checking how tight it was satisfied that it wouldn't choke you he pulled away and watched you closely then he sighed

"No ... its still not right is it kitten?" You tilted your head feeling a little ashamed?upset? he didn't like it? Did he think you were ugly? You blinked frowning at him bottom lip wobbling a little as you were on the brink of tears pulling back from him.

"What-" he shushed you placing a finger to your lips

"Kittens don't talk, now there is something missing pet, Ah! I know now this might be it" he said and picked up a small shiny matching rose gold heart tag, he held it to you to read it. On one side it said kitten the other had 'Property Of Henry If Lost Call' and his phone number on it you gasped a little opening your mouth the thank him but he snapped his fingers at you.No talking. You pouted mewling up at him again not sure how to communicate how much you loved it. Then you clicked leaning forward licking his hand biting lightly before tilting your head nuzzling his crotch. You smirked as his breath hitched in his throat and he grunted swearing quietly unable to stop himself from grinding on your head a little then stopped as you pulled back he grunted again rearranging himself in his bottoms. He made quick work of threading the tag onto the D ring he kissed your head

"Good girl and look baby it was a set" he leaned over you picking up a thick soft paracord lead in pink with leather handle decorated to match your new collar clipping it onto the D ring then looped it around his hand tugging lightly prompting you off of the sofa once you stood he quickly undid the buttons on the onesie letting it fall leaving you naked in the room. You shivered nipples puckering as the soft lead grazed your breasts and tummy as he moved, stepping out of the onesie Henry kicked it across the room.

"There we are kitten, nearly finished now down" he said barley containing his excitment you got down on your hands and knees before him holding his gaze rubbing your thighs together rocking side to side trying to caress your tingling clit between your lips as you felt small trickle of your arousal escape onto the floor mewling at the tiny flickers of pleasure it caused. Henry lead you across the living room to the island in the kitchen crawling was a little tricky at first but you soon found a smooth rhythm staying beside him smiling as the bell tinkled at every movement you made, he smiled down at you from this angle you could already see the bulge forming in his trousers, you went to sit down when he stopped only to have him fold the lead in one hand an strike you with it lightly across your breasts making you yelp out then moan looking down seeing a red stripe across them.

"No sitting until your told now ass up, good kitten just like that" you complied preening at his praise. He bent down holding out a fluffy grey kittytail plug you squealed a little bending further down pushing your tender breasts to the cold floor looking back at him expectantly waving your ass in the air at him. He laughed and crouched beside you running a hand across your dripping pussy  he leaned over kissing your head growling as his fingers massaged your wet center you moaned pushing back on him, he dragged his fingers to your opening plunging two thick fingers inside crooking them trying to scoop out more of your cum holding the plug just below you arched pushing back skimming your breasts across the cool floor trembling as he fucked you slowly bringing the plug to your clit and pressing it in small circles making you buck against him moaning and keening in higher pitches.

"Oh looks like I may have wasted money on lube hey baby? all wet and ready for me already such a precious thing." he ran the plug along your ass smearing your arousal across you all the way down to your slit you moaned as he spread his fingers out pulling your lips with them revealing your quivering hole to the cold air of the room making you gasp and clench as the freezing metal plug passed over it resting heavy on your clit, bucking a little you whined pushing back a little as the cold metal met your heated wet flesh, he held it still letting you warm the toy before running it back and forth slowly twisting it letting your arousal coat it wanting to make sure it was wet enough for him to push it in once satisfied he lifted it moving one hand to your bottom then began pressing it insistently at your tight little pucker. You whined placing the side of your face on the cool tile looking at him, he stroked your head shushing you when he realized just how much bigger this was from the last one

"Ok kitten now try to hold still one big deep breath just like before...Good girl now out push on your bottom" you nodded whining  bearing down on the toy as he held your shoulder using it to pull you back as he started pressing the tail further into you. You arched taking deep breaths when the plug seemed to get wider and wider you shook your head trying to arch away as it stung despite your arousal easing the way, you panicked a little as it seemed to keep stretching becoming sore as your tight ring tried fighting it .

"N-no its to muc-AAHH!" you cried out , he shushed you

"Come on kitten... Nearly there....Just a tiny bit more I promise......Push out again for me good girl! shh that’s it...Such a good girl for me......Ah ah no! stop moving bab-baby no no don't do-HEY! enough!-you’ll hurt yourself!" He scolded you as you tried to push against his hand on your shoulder to wriggle away then when that didn't work you unconsciously tried tucking your bottom beneath you whimpering. He stopped you with a quick volley of sharp spanks you yelped as his hot hand heated your ass, then there was a familiar popping sensation as your bottom swallowed the plug closing snug around it. He had used the distraction to quickly push the last of the plug in with a quick little shunt. You pushed up on your hands breathing heavy as the plug was indeed larger then the one you had used before, you ached as your ass tried fighting it wanting to push it out you let out pitiful breathy moans as you rippled around it.

"Daddy? Its big-im not sure-FUUCK OOHH" you cut yourself off moaning loud when he grabbed the tail and gave a small tug smirking as you cried out then followed it trying to ease the pressure he thrusted it a few times hitting something deep that made you arch high and squeal pressing back on to it as your pussy ceased and your clit throbbed so hard it almost felt raw he let go then twisted on his feet petting your head drawing patterns on your back.

"Oh baby I know its hard but your a kitten and kittens don't talk , if you carry on daddy will gag you understand?" you nodded at him pressing your head into his chest and kissed it softly wanting a little comfort, hissing deep breaths as you clenched around the tail plug whining, he brought the hand from your back and rubbed around the plug pressing it lightly.

"Its a little bigger but look at you? such a good girl look at that pretty little tail now just one more thing and you'll be daddies perfect kitty" he stood back up getting the remaining items a set of mittens that had no thumb piece instead just one Little pouch to fit your hand in with little paw prints on them they would be held on by two thin leather wrist cuffs. you wriggled around now growing accustomed to the bulbous plug pressing on your insides moaning as the ache became more a pleasurable throb you rocked a little in the air mouth open gasping as you rocked faster feeling the plug press against the back wall of you pussy, Henry quickly snatched up your hands one after the other locking them into the paw mittens. He stood back groaning loud as he watched cupping his erection rubbing along the bulge moaning rocking his hips into his palm as you kept arching your back. The sight was more erotic then he could have dreamed, he almost drooled as you rotated and wriggled your hips pushing back and forth trying to make your plug hit the spot he had pressed it to earlier moaning with closed eyes flushing a bright red, flinching as the tail ghosted your legs as it swayed behind you, turning you looked at the soft tail hanging between your legs giggling as the soft fur licked at your thighs. He snapped out of it and tugged you moving slower this time you stopped every so often moaning and whimpering as each step make your pussy twitch as the plug pressed against the back wall of it teasing your sensitive flesh from the wrong side by the time you got to the sofa both thighs were wet and you was shaking with need he sighed sitting down on it legs spread holding the lead tight keeping your head close to his crotch

"Come on baby time for your little treat" he said motioning for you to pull him free you brought your hands up fumbling with the zipper only really achieving to rub him through them ,making him grind against your hands throwing his head back you groaned in frustration whimpering at him resting your head in the inside of his thigh running your nose across the bulge sighing he looked down then petted you between your ears again.

"Oh kitten you can do better then that come on get daddy out." you pouted at him and nipped his thigh with your front teeth making him hiss and tug harshly on the lead growling at you before wrapping the cord around his fist once more pressing your nose into his crotch

"Bite me again kitten and see what happens, you think I wont fuck your throat raw? Ram into your mouth until my cock is choking you? Face fuck you until your pass out? I wouldn't test me kitten not now Ive waited to long to have you like this." His low ground out threats made you moan you couldn't wait until he fucked your mouth, already craving his salty taste, you kissed his cock through his trousers licking at it, it made you realize what you should do you trembled tucking your knees underneath you to keep your weight off of the plug you licked a long strip up the front of his trousers wetting them making him grunt again, one hand rested on your head petting you, you smirked watching through your lashes as he started flushing and panting, he loved it when you did this it was the only time he let you tease mostly because he was enjoying himself to much to fight for control, for all his talk of wanting control you think he secretly liked being at your mercy every once in a while, you poked out your tongue grazing his zipper then bit down making sure to press on him harshly making him yelp and hiss though clenched teeth when you dragged it down, he fumbled quickly undoing his top button and shimmied them down his hips giving you enough room to bite his boxers and pull them down....only you didn't you wrapped your lips over them sucking on him hard through them making sure to soak his boxers with spit making him groan giving a  thrust up to your face fisting his fingers in you hair a little careful not to pull off the ears.

"FUCK kitten!! Oh GOD! fuck pleaseplease do that again!! come on once more such a good girl" you did taking your sweet time kissing and suckling on him nudging him with your nose pushing him up and latched onto the sensitive underside of his cock running your teeth over his hot flesh rocking your hips left and right letting your pussy massage itself poking out your tongue you flattened it running it up the vein near his head pinning it to his hip then opened your mouth around it humming, he jerked up ass leaving the seat moaning out loud swearing at you for being a tease, you continued up finding his swollen crown you licked at it then his slit sucking again on him. He groaned loud and drawn out flexing his fingers and widened his legs you carried on enjoying having the man at your mercy for once kissing and sucking at his twitching length he began rocking faster panting.

"OH! yesyesYES Baby...WAIT HOLD ON!... Fuck slow down!Dont nono that's it kitten thats enough daddies going to cum! NO! ENOUGH!" you giggled as he used the lead to jerk you away panting and sweaty you thought it was funny you'd never heard him that desperate before, he normally had godlike restraint  holding himself back for hours if he really wanted to, he gasped then ran a hand across his face and melted into to sofa fighting of the impending orgasm. You sat there biding your time once he relaxed you swooped back in ready to force him to cum in his boxers, but only managed one kitten lick before being jerked away again he growled at you in warning giving you a stern look then tugged of his top still panting.

"you cheeky little thing!" you grinned raising yourself to your knees running your hands up his thighs as you leaned in kissing along the v of muscles above his boxers licking at his skin then nuzzled him lightly ghosting his stomach with your nose placing butterfly kisses here and there feeling him flex trying to arch his cock up to you, you slowly made your way down again opening your mouth tilting your head to engulf the muscle just on his boxers waistband flattening your tongue relishing in the pleasure filled noises he let loose and in the same moment curled your fingers over it the elastic pulling it away letting him spring free hitting your chin. He grunted as you let go letting the elastic snap back onto his balls only letting his cock free he looked down at you giving you a heated look

"Careful baby you don't want to play these games with me" you blinked innocently at him smiling then began kissing lower until you was at the base of his cock ignoring the small patch of hair at his root kissing him obscenely with open mouthed wet kisses then licked him from base to tip before plunging down on him he groaned closing his eyes tight

"FUCK KITTEN! Oohh god that's so hot, shit your mouth is SO FUCKING HOT UGH!" You sucked him deep swallowing around him letting one hand wander to his balls cupping them and rolling them in your palm your other hand dropped between your legs and you ground yourself on your hand moaning onto his cock as you worked your clit in slow firm strokes making your new gloves sticky and wet from your arousal. He cried out desperately bucking into your mouth and throat moaning and crying out cutting off his own words as you kept changing your pace hearing your little bell jingle with your movements on him bobbing your head slow with harsh sucks to his head then fast making sure to swallow or moan as he hit your throat focused solely on making him cum. Today he would cum first you were going to make sure. You whined as you changed direction on your clit feeling the heat in your belly slowly make its way down settling in your hard clit rubbing and tapping at it moaning louder as your orgasm began to build. He shivered his thighs jerking and trembling as you pointed your tongue pressing on the sensitive vein underneath it he shook his head clutching at the sofa grunting breathlessly each time he felt the vibrations of your throat moaning on him.

"BABY BABY STOP! I cant fuck please its to much- no nononono not yet I FuckFU-Fuuuck ah AH AH OH SHIT FUUUUUUCK" you ignored him, he was so lost that he had forgotten the lead, you used it to your advantage pulling back and sucking hard on his head licking at his slit then gripped his sack squeezing it tight as it tensed upwards then with one small drag of your teeth he whimpered loud and high releasing in your mouth jerking himself uncontrollably into your mouth face fucking you just like he threatened. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back but decided to go further swallowing as much of his cum you could but continued to suck and bob on him then cried out as your rocking hips found that perfect position on your clit making it throb and twitch your walls clenching, spasming making the plug move and caress your depths finally you screeched around his cock and came over your hand soaking the glove he yelped curling his feet into the floor shifting back trying to get away you followed placing your hands on his thighs pushing them back as he tried closing his legs trembling from your own release moaning and withering against him.

"UGH NOO FUCK STOPSTOPSTOOOP! ITS TO MUCH BA-KITTEN STOP IT NO PLEASE" he through his hands down blindly pushing you but you fought him wanting to torture him a bit, a little pay back for the other day you reasoned, but you couldn't fight him long even in his fucked out quivering state he was ten times stronger than you, you dragged your teeth across him one last time as he pushed you back off of him completely.

"Your a little bitch, you know that?" He said head tilted back and one arm draped across his eyes heaving deep breaths you just giggled kissing his thighs

"Where the fuck did that come from Anyway?" You just smirked licking your lip trying to collect the cum that had escaped from your mouth he groaned watching your pink tongue darting out.

“Meow?” You were a dangerous little kitten he decided. He looked down feeling your wet mitten then frowned a little before smiling deviously.

"Oh kitten? You didn't touch yourself did you?" You froze a little then sent him coy glance pulling your hands down slowly hoping he wouldn't notice. He caught your offending hand quickly

"Did you?" You shrugged feigning innocence as he pulled your hand up sniffing it you blushed

"It certainly smells like you" you whined at him flushing embarrassed  making him chuckle, he licked a long strip of of the mitten slapping his lips as he puled away tutting.

"Oh i think you did didn't you? Because daddy knows exactly how you taste and that my sweet little kitten is definitely you on this little mitten, such a needy little kitty hm? Did suckling on daddy really make you that desperate? Poor little baby" you panted as he bent forward his pupils dominated the blue of his eyes hot and playful all in one he peered down at the wooden floor sighing.

"Such a messy little pussy you have" he pushed you back a little you ducked when his leg swung over you and he got up walking to the counter again you watched  carefully as he approached the box you took the time to admire his taught ass as he bent forward a little reaching inside picking something out then folded the towel over his arm then hear the distinct sound of leather cracking on an open palm. You snapped out of your ass worshiping gaze eyes flicking  to his hands as he spun around looking at him as he held a new leather paddle with a paw print on it he smiled slyly crooking a finger at you. Come here. You gulped then rose from your spot on the floor crawling toward him gulping.

"You know kitten you was very reckless at the door earlier it was very naughty trying to torture daddy and playing with yourself without permission? I think you should be.....Corrected shall we say, for future reference just as a deterrent?. After all prevention is better then cure isn't it?" he licked his lips watching you squirm on the spot just across the kitchen island he tested the small paddle again. Your whole body ceased up as he stared at you.

"Erm N-no lets not how about best two out of three? You know three strikes and your out?" He chuckled shaking his head.

"Oh baby but that was three strikes and how many times do i have to tell you? kittens don't talk do they?" You pouted trying to sit your bottom down only to jerk it back up as your tail plug pressed deeper and the soft fur tickled your leg... not only that you didn't want to get it wet with your arousal

"Come kitten what do you say?" You blushed

"Meow" his face lit up yet his eyes only got darker

"That’s it such a clever kitty, but I must say you will be getting more then three strikes of your new paddle trust me now come round here like a good girl" you crawled around to his side squeaking as he lifted you effortlessly bending you over the counter you hissed as your breasts squished into the freezing cold marble your toes didn't touch the floor as he shuffled you up with the edge of the island on your thighs. He stood off to the side a little admiring the way your grey tail hung between your legs, the pitiful noises were delicious he grunted feeling himself twitch already starting to harden again he patted you bottom drawing lines along the soft skin moving to your slit following up towards the plug lifting the tail holding it taught in a fist but not pulling it out just tugging enough to make it press down into your pussy from behind. You moaned squirming trying to follow it as he held it high toes scrabbling up the cupboard door failing.

"Oh baby that's so cute, you know I  can see your pussy trying to find something to latch on to, does it feel hot? Is it empty? Sweet kitten you see if you had been a good girl following your rules, if you had stopped when daddy said and asked to touch yourself daddy would already be balls deep, battering away at your needy little pussy painting your insides with his cum... but no instead you hand to be a naughty girl and will have to settle for your paddle." You cried out as he circled your twitching clit as he spoke emphasizing words with shallow thrusts on his fingers he pulled away picking up the paddle striking your lower cheeks and pussy making you jump and moan hearing a wet slap as the sting settled in he pulled away running a hand over the pink spot

"Oohh look at that hah you have a little paw print on your tush now,I think fifteen will do don't you sweety? Five for each naughty thing you did? You know normally I would have you count and say thank you, but well seeing as your a kitten today you should meow instead" You groaned as he lifted it again slapping a bit harder this time you yelped as he aimed for the under curve of your left cheek then meowed dutifully.

"Very good again" he struck you again lower on your thigh no harder then before this time you meowed again moaning as your pussy clenched dripping on your touching thighs. You closed your eyes tight as he continued peppering your ass with the paddle the final five landed in quick succession on your weeping pussy you meowed loud and hard sobbing each pussy spank had directly struck the underside of your clit. Throwing the paddle on the counter he cupped your red swollen lips his hand cooling the burn. He smiled then tilted his hips up bringing his fully erect cock to your entrance. Throwing the towel down on the floor. You sobbed higher as he drew lines on your slit teasing your muscles you jerked against him just on the edge of cumming kicking out your legs.

"You know I have been doing some reading about squirting, I think I've sussed out how to make it happen on command shall we test it out?" You shook your head grunting as he thrust forward you cried out feeling him force your walls apart making room for his fat throbbing cock it stung more then ever with your weight on your tummy and plug in your ass but you loved it.

"Ugh! NOOO!AH AH FUCK!" You mewled grunting at each punishing thrust stretching you he was fighting the plug in your ass for room holding firm  he grinded your clit you screeched as he angled his hips and tugged up on the tail making the embedded metal run along his cock growling. Before you knew what happened your body ceased walls tightened clamping around his cock moaning and gasping releasing, flooding over him he laughed groaning as your steady stream of cum hit his abdomen and washed over him.

"Oh fuck! yes I knew you could do it good girl, fuck that's so HOT! again more come on baby you can do it! Give it to daddy once more then I'll fill you" he grunted doubling his efforts stroking his cock around inside of you giving sharp tugs to your tail jolting you back against him to meet his brutal hips making you whimper at the harsh treatment one of his hand snuck below you pinching your clit almost jerking it off.

"FUCK I’m nearly there KITTEN! OH SHIT! Fuckfuckfuck you better fucking cum for me! Or I'll get the wand out again!" That did it You threw your head back placing your toes on the cupboard door rocking against him cumming again long and hard, so hard you couldn't make a sound all the air left you and you just hung there your mouth hanging open in a silent scream he grunted gabbing your shoulders pulling you back to him making your spine curve painfully as you fell apart around him again your sopping pussy sucking on him trying to trap him with on final painful thrust he growled rubbing his cock head on your cervix releasing torrents of cum into you. He lowered your shoulders down feeling you go limp taking a moment to catch his breath then he pulled the box towards him panting heavy fishing out another plug

"NOnonono please Henry no moreIi cant-I came again I promise I did please don't get the wand out!" You panicked pleading with him as his hand disappeared into the box pushing back on him, he smiled waving a dildo plug on your face

"Not a wand see this is for your pussy love, to keep my cum inside you for the rest of the day.....after all you was a bad kitten" you mewled relaxing happy he wasn't going to torture you again to tired to argue you laid still as he pulled himself from you quickly plugging you up before anything could escape. You moaned and wriggled he slid you off of the counter to you feet quickly supporting you as you nearly dropped to the floor smirking a smug little smile you reached behind you to pull the tail from you he smacked your hand away

"Ohh no I think I will have you stay like this all day, at least then I know you wont answer the door" you gaped then pouted at him crossing your arms at him

"A-all day? What if I get cold" he chuckled walking across to the sofa throwing you his tshirt you quickly tried slipping it on but dropped it due to your mittens you sulked stamping a foot he pulled on his boxers then returned picking up the tshirt sliding it on you then quickly undid the mittens you flexed your fingers when they were free , he collected the damp towel on the floor wiping down your thighs and between your legs you took the other end patting his pelvis down blushing realizing just how much mess you'd made you looked down still wiping him tears sprung to your eyes sniffling

"Oh god this is so embarrassing" could hear the quiver in your voice, ready to cry out of shame he growled not having non of that he shook his head hooking his fingers into your collar pulling you up on your tiptoes forcing you to look him in the eye.

"Not its fucking hot! I cant believe how sexy that was feeling you cum so thoroughly, drenching me uncontrollably, fuck it was the most amazing feeling! And I cant wait to make you soak me again and again, one day I’m going to drink it from you." You blushed shocked by his words as he leaned in kissing you passionately sucking on your tongue he pulled away tossing the towel into the washing machine then pulled the leather cuffs from the loops in the mittens throwing then in as well quickly turning it on to rinse and dry. Then quickly he scooped you up settling back on the couch, you squirmed pulling the tail from under you he held it up your back lightly  then handed you the controller.

"Now show me your Jurassic park d-did you let the t rex out?" You smiled giggling at him nodding then snugged back into him as you started making a new paddock in the game. These next few months were going to be the best of your life if today was anything to go by.

[jasmine-iroh]

i have so many ideas in my head for fics LMAO and as u know i am obsessed w ur writing hehehe umm lets think can you do a sokka imagine where reader is Piandao’s apprentice as well so she spars with Sokka in his training and always wins, until he beats her one day from like being flirty and distracting her or something?? idk u can ignore this and just do any imagines u like LOL

Ahhhhh I love this idea so much!! Idk why but I have a headcanon that Piandao is lowkey like Batman and just trains abandoned kids and now he has like a tiny army of little white lotus warriors he’s informally adopted over the years.

This kid is weird.

That was the immediate impression (Y/N) got of Sokka when Master Piandao had introduced him as a new apprentice.

What the hell kind of name is Sokka, anyways?

That was her second thought. It was the kind of name that rolled off her tongue nicely when she was snapping at him to focus during their drills. The shape of it in her mouth made it easy to add a snarl to the front and a growl at the end when he was screwing around in front of Piandao, making them both look bad.

By the end of his first day training with (Y/N) under Piandao’s reserved tutliage, Sokka had been introduced to several intermediate forms. His heavy wooden practice sword had turned his arms to jelly long ago and there were various bruises and scrapes from (Y/N) sneaking past his defenses, but Sokka didn’t mind the aches.

She’s amazing.

That was Sokka’s first impression of (Y/N) as he watched her demonstrate the basic forms he was supposed to learn. He wasn’t focusing on the forms, but rather the warrior waltzing her way through them.

(Y/N) seemed to merge with her abilities. She moved with the ease of someone who spent her time befriending her skills, pouring her soul into singing metal and brutal dance numbers. Her blade was her master as much as Piandao was. She wielded her sentences as tactfully as her steel, every word intentional and aimed to cut to the heart of a matter.

Sokka would wager his last copper piece that her and Suki would get along quite well if they ever met.

He’s good.

That was (Y/N)’s third thought as she watched Sokka breeze through his basic drills.

A tiny part of her sung with pride when Master informed her that she was excelling in her duty of shaping Sokka into a proper swordsman. Sokka was her first real trainee during her time with Piandao. She’d studied under him from the age of six, when she’d turned up on his doorstep after being left behind in the middle of the night by her nomadic family.

She’d seen many hopeful young men turn up on that same doorstep, opening her sanctuary to their arrogant swaggers and second rate weaponry. They had all given her the same look when she guided them through Piandao’s home; a look that held the intrigue of having a girl around to preen for, not knowing that she was the judge, jury, and executioner of their fate.

Piandao might’ve been the one to teach the boys to fight, but (Y/N) was the one to make them honor the battle. They all came boasting to the Master about their accomplishments in their backwater town, lauding their own praises and embellishing their military bloodlines. Most left cursing the girl with forged steel for a personality and the word no sharpened like a blade.

Not Sokka, though.

(Y/N) supposed that maybe that’s what first warmed her up to him, the fact that he’d seen the sword on her belt first and her gender second. His quick wit and ability to bounce back after a defeat didn’t hurt, either.

Sokka’s knuckles were still red and actively bruising from their previous match when Piandao informed the pair that the next would be their last for the day. The compound was bathed in the golden promise of a sunset to come and (Y/N) found herself getting distracted by the way the light pressed gentle kisses to Sokka’s cheeks. The breeze played with his unraveling topknot like a teasing lover, taunting (Y/N) with the idea of what he’d look like with his hair down.

Before her thoughts could settle on the fight in front of her and not the boy, Sokka was making the first move. He went for the obvious strike, even though he should’ve learned by that point that (Y/N) would parry the blow.

Swinging her sword up to block him with ease, (Y/N) found herself shocked by their close proximity, puzzled that Sokka had thrown his first move to get close to her. A coy smirk was crawling along Sokka’s face as he gifted the young warrior with a flirtatious wink, causing her to narrow her own eyes back at him. It seemed that Sokka had seen her distraction and chose to wield his looks as his weapon of choice for this round.

“You can’t fluster me into losing, Sokka,” (Y/N) huffed, a mild bout of surprise bubbling as she realized that she was actually having to try to keep Sokka from getting the upper hand in their fight.

“That doesn’t seem fair, you’ve been flustering me all day.” He replied with a disarming grin, putting her on the defense with a quick, if somewhat unpracticed, set of attacks.

“Cut it out.” She growled, hoping the dark flush on her cheeks could be written off as exertion and not a real blush. Those oceanic eyes stared a hole into (Y/N), the flickering of his pupils to the side being the only consistent indication of his next move.

He was still too close for (Y/N) to ready a true offense, so she blocked and parried his attacks, his ever increasing proximity forcing her a step back with each move. She was trying to distance herself for an attack when the stone wall of the practice arena hit her back, shocking the wind out of her and allowing Sokka to land what would have been a fatal strike in a real fight. Their eyes were still locked as their chests heaved from the effort of the fight, bewildered (Y/E/C) eyes meeting a cunning blue gaze.

“Resourceful use of terrain, Sokka. (Y/N), don’t allow yourself to be crowded by a larger opponent. Use your agility, not your size.” Piandao advised, snapping the pair out of their staring contest. Sokka was still looming over (Y/N), but she wasn’t looking at him, instead forcing herself away from the wall to disappear into the bamboo thicket. She was being melodramatic, she knew, but she was ashamed that she’d let a stupidly charming boy make her look like a fool in front of her Master. The blow to her pride was blistering, raising all of her long buried insecurities to the surface.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sokka’s voice called from the bamboo to (Y/N)’s right. To hear that much concern in the voice of a boy who barely knew her showed his true character, but (Y/N) wished he would reveal an arrogant side. Something, anything, to throw her heart off the scent of a crush.

“Why would you do that?” She snarled, trying to cover the turmoil in her mind with misplaced anger.

“Do what?” His disembodied voice was confused, the rustling of bamboo revealing his position to (Y/N).

“Embarrass me like that in front of everyone! Do you know how hard it is to be taken seriously as a girl doing this?” (Y/N) ranted, her glare already fixed to the spot where Sokka popped out of the foliage into her line of view.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I just... I thought we had something going on there for a minute, y’know? You’re the best fighter I’ve ever met, being a girl doesn’t change that.” He told her honestly. He took a tentative step closer, approaching her like he would a scared cat.

“That trick won’t work a second time.” (Y/N) snapped, her eyes spitting fire at him. Once again, she found herself on the defensive with this boy, every careful step he took towards her sending her a step back until her back pressed against a clutter of bamboo.

“Trick? (Y/N), there is no trick. It’s called liking someone, and hoping they like you back.” Sokka exclaimed, frustration trickling into his tone. He wanted to be patient and give her room to puzzle out his intentions, but she was too busy protecting her emotions to see his truth.

A long pause, before, “he’ll replace me if he thinks I’m easily distracted.” It was said so quietly, in such a hopeless voice, that Sokka wouldn’t recognize it as (Y/N) speaking if he wasn’t watching her lips form the words.

“He’s a fool, then. He won’t find another (Y/N).” Sokka told her boldly, feeling wild and fierce in their bamboo haven with her baring her deepest emotions to him.

“Please stop saying nice things. It makes it really hard to be mad.” (Y/N) whispered in that same careful voice, her tone cooling as she folded in on herself. She couldn’t believe she’d shown her soul to a boy she’d known for two days.

“Then don’t be mad, be honest. Do you find me as distracting as I find you?” Sokka matched her tone, speaking quietly as he tried to coax her back out of her shell.

“No. Yes? I don’t know. I’ve never even liked any of the apprentices before you.” She huffed, tilting her head back to groan at the sky in confusion.

“Stop over thinking it. Do I distract you? Yes or no?” Sokka pressed, taking (Y/N)’s battle calloused hands in his own and tugging her attention back to those oceanic eyes.

“Yes.” Her tone was confident, her rough thumbs tracing delicate shapes over Sokka’s bruised knuckles as she accepted his rough palms in her own.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one, then, or this would’ve been awkward.” He admitted, a warm blush crawling up his neck.

“It already was,” (Y/N) giggled quietly, releasing the tension between them. They stood grinning at each other like fools, both trying to stretch this soft, peaceful moment into a lifetime. Sokka leaned down closer to (Y/N) slowly, his eyes flickering between her own and her lips as he gave her the chance to stop him.

Instead of bolting like he half expected her to, she leaned up and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, pulling him closer. The action threw him off balance and sent the pair tumbling through the bamboo, Sokka landing on top of (Y/N) with a squawk of indignation.

The serene atmosphere broken, they stared into each other’s eyes for a shocked moment before bursting into laughter and settling for holding each other close like a cherished possession.

[kingsuckjin]

JUST SMILE- 1

✹ Genre: bts! Batman au

✹ Pairing: joker!jk x reader, robin! Jin x reader, bts x reader

✹ Description: All you've ever wanted was to help, that's all. When you landed a job at Arkham asylum (possibly unjustly), you thought maybe you could help the poor souls locked away there. You were apprehensive about meeting one in particular, the worst criminal of his time, the infamous Jeon Jungkook, well known around Gotham as the Joker. But what if this man isn't what the rumors and his records say he is? What if he saw you as the one needing help? You only had to do him one small favor and he could make every dream you've ever had could come true, he could take all the pain away and you would never want for anything ever again. Could what he offers be the truth? You can't say you weren't warned about him.

✹ Warnings: mention of drugs

✹ Words: 6.5k

♧ Character list♤

-Series masterlist-

// Next

"You're still coming, right?"

"Of course! I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world." You sent back and received a reply right away.

"Just checking. Didn't want you to get too nervous and decide not to go. I'll be there soon to get you darling xoxo"

You read his text before throwing your phone onto your bed and wrestling with sliding your floor length dress on. It had to weigh a ton, you weren't going to be comfortable but at least it was a gorgeous dress. You probably wouldn't have even thought about going to this ritzy party if he hadn't invited you, things like this just weren’t you.

Him. Kim Seokjin was your ultimate crush. He was everything. Charming, thoughtful, sweet, and now about to be the co-partner business partner of Kim Namjoon, the richest man in all of Gotham.

Kim Namjoon was hosting this party at his exuberant mansion in celebration of Seokjin becoming his new business co partner and you were so proud of Jin and happy for him. You had met Jin at the beginning of your career, introduced by old friends and you had hit it off right away with him. He had asked you out to dinner a few times over the course of your friendship and it was always such a lovely time. You texted back and forth, nearly every day starting with his good morning texts. The way he gazed into your eyes when you both hung out combined with his laid-back, bubbly, joking personality made you fall so hard for him. You were sure he liked you back even though he had never made a true move on you. He had called you gorgeous and beautiful so many times before and each time you would cherish the comment. If the word whipped existed for someone, it would be for you about Seokjin.

Tonight you were hoping you could look so beautiful that maybe, just maybe, he would make the first move. He had said he was taking you as his date after all, not just as friends. Tonight could be the night, you were determined for one of you to say how you felt once and for all.

You turned around in front of the full length mirror in your room and looked at the form fitting champagne colored, jewel detailed, ball gown. You looked so sophisticated, so put together, but it just didn't feel like you. You could not be you for just one night though, you could pretend to be this beautiful enchanting woman with money when in reality you were just a psychiatrist crushing on a rich man who was out of your league.

Your phone buzzed again on your bed and a text flashed across your screen from Seokjin that read "I'm here"

You picked up your phone, shoving it into your tiny clutch bag, noticing that you had forgotten to charge it. You decided there was nothing you could do about it now though as you dashed as fast as you could across your house in your form fitting dress and too high delicate looking heels. You stopped at your front door, smoothing your hair and dress and taking a deep breath, saying a silent prayer and walking out.

Waiting for you was a very expensive looking black car with Seokjin holding the back door open for you, a smile plastered on his face from the moment he saw you.

"There she is! Looking absolutely jaw dropping too!"

Your cheeks heated at his compliment as you tried to hold back a huge grin.

You uttered a soft "thank you" as you got into the car, taking in how good he looked in his black suit with his creme colored tie that matched your dress.

He got into the back seat with you and you glanced at the driver in the front before looking back at his tie, you remembered him asking the color of your dress.

"You wore a matching tie." Your stomach swam with fluttering butterflies at the gesture. You looked at his brown hair pushed back exposing forehead as he gave you another smile.

"Well of course, you're my date, we should match don't you think?" He glanced down at his suit "and I think I cleaned up pretty well for this, but you're definitely going to steal the show with your beauty."

You were caught in his warm brown eyes as yours flickered from his to his smooth plump lips.

Was he leaning in?

You began to panic and your heart began to race.

Did he want to kiss you?

You felt your body gravitate just a bit closer to his, just to see if he'd close the space.

He brought a large hand up under your chin and instead of pressing his lips to yours, he just gave you an adoring smile and dropped his hand.

You were disappointed, sure, but you thought that maybe right now just wasn't the right time. You knew Seokjin had a penchant for making things special, going all out for things, so of course he wouldn't kiss you for the first time in the back of a car, right?

He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie a little nervously you noticed.

"It shouldn't be long until we're there, just a short ride." He gazed out the window to the busy Gotham roads and tall lit skyscrapers that acted as beacons in the night, lighting the streets aglow so bright it seeped through the dark tint of the car windows.

"Are you nervous?" You decided to curiously ask. This had been the first time you had ever seen his charm falter.

"A little." He replied after a moment of his eyes still glued out the window.

"This is a big thing. I don't blame you."

"If only you knew how big. He told me…" you heard him audibly swallow and finally look away from the window only to stare down at his shiny black dress shoes. "He told me that if something happens to him… like his parents… the company would be mine. The company his parents built."

"Oh." You realized that maybe Namjoon was afraid of meeting an end like his parents and that's why he was taking on a partner, Seokjin.

"I don't see why he doesn't have a wife or children yet if he needed someone to take over for him one day that badly, he could make an heir or at least adopt. He has so much money and he's not a bad looking guy, he has resources, you now?" You questioned, mostly digging for information about the mysterious Kim Namjoon.

"Hmmm well… I don't feel like Namjoon… well, he probably would be a family man but… I think he has his reasons for not having a family… it's hard to have a family when you have a life like his… or even like I do now." It could've been just in your mind but you swear you noticed a tinge of sadness at the last sentence. You didn't want to pry further, you knew Namjoon had to have a busy life and now so would Jin as a partner of the company now.

Maybe that meant that he wouldn't be asking you to be his girlfriend.

"Ahh" he let out before giving your hand that rested on your knee a pat and just letting his hand linger on top of yours. His expression changed to a more cheerful one. "Tonight is supposed to be a good night, I shouldn't be ruining it with all of this worry. What about you? Are you excited for your new position? Scared maybe?"

Yes, your new position, the job that you had been wanting since you first started. Since you had found out last week you had gotten the job, you had a sneaking suspicion Seokjin had some sort of a hand in helping you get it, you knew it wasn't right but you were grateful even if it was him. Well, there weren't many psychiatrists out here fighting to get into Arkham asylum, a place people wanted to stay far far away from, a place that housed Gotham's worst souls.

"I'm a little scared, it has quite the list of… criminals there." You replied.

"To call those monsters simply just criminals is gracious." Jin’s tone was flat.

"But they're still people Jin, and people can change with the right help."

"If anyone can turn those psychotic criminals around, it's you." There it was again, that fond look in his eye, that look that one would have for a fine jewel or a particularly beautiful flower.

You noticed his large warm hand still resting on top of your own, but unfortunately that was when he had decided to remove it. Your hand felt a slight chill now but your attention was taken away from that to the large dark iron open gates that the car had just pulled through and the Goliath of a home that lay just beyond it.

People poured from cars in the large half circle driveway, wearing gorgeous clothing that spoke volumes about their wealth, and made their way up the rows of stairs to the front door. The mansion itself glowed with light from inside out.

As you waited for the car to pull up to the front to let you out, you already felt out of place as if the dress you wore was just a mask to bend in with all of the affluent people here. The dress felt so heavy on your body, as if it contained the weight of the lie that you weren't one of them.

You looked over at Seokjin who seemed to not only fit the part, but to be in his element. He belonged here and you knew it. You hoped that just maybe your mask of a dress could not only fool everyone at this party into thinking that you were someone, but Jin into thinking you could be the prettiest one.

"Finally," Jin announced as the driver got out and opened the door for you both "the king and queen of this party have arrived."

You were nearly too stunned at Jin calling you his queen to notice he had already gotten out of the car and was offering you his hand from outside to help you out of the car as well. It took a second but his beaming smile snapped you out of it and you took his hand.

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you made your way up the quite tiring amount of stairs to the entrance with him.

The crystals on your dress glistened in the light coming from the windows in the home. You did your best to bunch it up so the end didn't drag too much or make you fall on the stairs, but his hand on your back reassured you that he had you even if you did trip.

"You really do look lovely tonight, I can't say that enough. I'm very lucky that you agreed to be my date for this."

You swallowed nervously as you looked at his face which was far more beautiful and immaculate than your dress, it was flawless, and warm. You could almost swear he was a prince and you were his princess. All of this so far seemed like just one big fairytale.

"You look amazing too you know, more so than usual." You gave him a shy smile right back.

"I put a lot of effort into my appearance tonight- more so than usual." He gave you a wink that made your head spin and it didn't stop even when you stepped into the mansion.

Everything seemed to glitter from the jewelry on fingers, wrists, ears and necks to the cocktail glasses being served and carried around on silver platters.

People congregated in clusters around the room, near the expensive looking food, near the bar, at the tables and just in the middle of the marble floor, near the closed off staircase leading to the second floor.

Seokjin greeted a few people as led you through the party, hand still on your back. You knew who he was looking for, and you were finally ready to meet the man himself, the man who probably had more money than everyone in this room combined.

You had heard many things about Kim Namjoon, he was a loner, a recluse even, he was a cold and snobby man, but when you finally laid your eyes on him you realized none of those things were true.

The tall thin man was warmly talking to an older couple, taking their hands, wishing them well and looking to mean every word and motion. His smile was dimpled and didn't have the stern face you had imagined him having at all. Although he appeared to wear the most expensive suit here: very traditional, back with a red tie, his black hair was very modernly cut and shaved on the sides.

He excused himself from the elderly couple as he saw you and Seokjin approaching.

He looked so young, too modern to be old money, too good to be a recluse, and his smile was too wide and dimpled for him to be snobby.

"Ahhh the man of the hour and his lady." Namjoon welcomed the both of you warmly and extended a hand which you took, his other hand enveloped the other side of your hand, shaking yours graciously with both hands as Seokjin introduced you simply by your name.

"I'm Kim Namjoon. I've heard so many good things about you and how skilled you are in your field. Not just from Seokjin, but all over. Such an intelligent woman, I admire that." Namjoon seemed just as charming, if not more so than Seokjin "but tell me, I'm curious to know, what would make you seek out a job at Arkham asylum?"

"Isn't it obvious? She's the best of the best. She's brave for even stepping foot in that literal madhouse. I have no compassion for murderers who get out of prison time with the excuse of insanity." Seokjin scoffed.

"Arkham is very much like a prison though, very high security for an asylum. My family has donated to it ever since I can remember, just to make sure those people who need to be locked up, stay locked up. As a matter of fact- have you told her yet Jin?" Namjoon stopped himself and now looked to Jin who had dropped his hand from your back and cleared his throat.

"I- uh- was hoping you could do the honors." He replied before looking at you. "It was a surprise."

"I see." Namjoon gave a chuckle and spoke directly to you "tonight's party is not only an announcement that Seokjin will become my equal in the company, but he's asked that it also be a charity donation, to the asylum, in your name."

Your jaw dropped at the information. Gears were beginning to turn in your head as you looked at Seokjin seeming to try to hide his guilty face with a merous, plastered on smile.

"H-how long has this been planned? Does the asylum know the donation is coming?" You wondered out loud.

"Seokjin has been planning this ever since I asked him to be my partner, it's been about a month now." Namjoon continued to inform, unaware of Seokjin's nervousness with the details of the subject or your mouth still ajar.

You didn't know whether to feel in awe over the fact he had done this just for you or upset that he had basically bought you your new job. This had to mean he cared for you, right? He wouldn't do this and secure you the job you had been talking about for months if he didn't. You understand now why he had referred to you as the king and queen of this party, it was indeed for you too, he had made it about you too.

"But back to my curiosity, what made you want to work at Arkham asylum?" Namjoon asked snapping you out of your thoughts.

"I-"

"Arkham asylum?" A smooth voice interrupted you and you looked over to see a gorgeous silver haired man in a black and silver paisley patterned suit, the collar was very high on the black silk shirt he wore underneath, very old timey but beautiful and high fashion. This man stuck out like a sore thumb, not only because of his suit, but because of his sheer natural striking beauty and silver head of hair.

"My uncle runs the place, what a shame, those poor souls locked away like that." The man now smiled at you, more so a smirk than a smile, before he lifted his heavily ringed fingers containing a delicate flute of champagne which he brought to his full lips.

"Your uncle? I thought Arkham was owned by the city." Namjoon lifted a brow curiously as the silver haired man.

"At what point did I say he owned it?" The silver haired man was quick with his reply, but equally quick to look to you. "You look far too lovely to be working in a place like that." The man purred.

"And that means what exactly?" Jin now spoke up as you stayed entranced with this gentleman. "Are you saying she can't handle it because she's pretty? Because she's a girl?" Jin’s irritation with the man was evident in his voice.

"I never said anything of the sort. You can do as you please, love. Just know you need to have a strong will to deal with the minds in there."

"And you're insinuating she doesn't?" You don't understand Jin's annoyance with this man or the look of suspension on Namjoon's face as he watched the interaction silently, but the silver haired man seemed smooth and unbothered by their looks, but his eyes did flick to both of the men before looking back to you.

"Congratulations on your new job, love." He took your hand and brought it to his soft lips, but Jin's hand went to your shoulder fast to jerk you out of his grasp, leaving a protective arm around you. The silver haired man seemed to smirk at Jin's behaviour before his eyes went back to you, "just don't let them ruin you in there." The slight smirk was still evident on his face as he turned and walked off, striding gracefully away.

"So none of us knew him, right?" Seokjin asked.

"Hmmm no, but I can almost guarantee he isn't who he says he is." Namjoon's narrowed eyes stayed on him.

"But he didn't exactly say who he was." You pointed out.

"Exactly." Namjoon replied simply. His eyes focused on someone else across the room now and motioned for them to come over. It only took seconds for a big muscular man to approach Namjoon, who leaned into whisper to him before he nodded and walked off.

You watched the exchange knowing exactly what had just happened. Namjoon had sent security after the silver haired man who no longer looked to be within sight, or anywhere within the party at all.

Your mind shifted to Jin pulling you away from the strange man, just as it did a large warm hand had taken yours, you hadn't even noticed Jin's hand had left your shoulder.

You were stunned that he was actually holding your hand until he spoke to Namjoon.

"Can we speak for just a moment? Is there a quiet place?"

Namjoon gave him a nod and pointed to the massive grand staircase.

"Upstairs should be a room. Second room on the right in the hall, it has a lovely balcony. I do ask that you both hurry back, I'd like soon like to make the announcement of your partnership and the charity."

"We'll be back." Seokjin confirmed before all but leading you gently through the party with your fingers still interlaced. The stairway was roped off and there was a security guard, in a suit standing near them. The only way you could really tell security was security here was because they seemed pretty ripped even in their nice suits.

Seokjin helped you over the roped off area at the beginning of the stairs. Seokjin seemed in a hurry to get you alone for some reason, and your mind went to places... places where he had you pressed against a wall with his lips and hips on yours. You were a bit thankful for the silver haired stranger who had set off streak of jealousy strong enough within Jin to where-

Seokjin turned the knob and pushed open the door to reveal what looked to be a half library half sitting room, a lamp was on in the corner of the room but it was just enough light to call the room dim. Seokjin closed the door behind him and you looked at him expectantly.

"Are you okay?" He asked. All that urgency to get you alone just to ask if you were okay? You cocked your head to the side, you didn't get it.

"That guy was… he was pretty forward with you and I'm sorry I didn't say or do something more."

"Is that what this is about?" You decided to just ask, because you felt like it wasn't all he wanted to say.

"No." He let out a sigh and brought his eyes up to meet yours.

"You didn't look like you took the news of the charity very well, and I know what it looks like."

"Like you bought me my new job with the money from this event? You did though, right?" You wondered if it wasn't indeed how it looked.

"I-I- did. I did do that, but you wanted it so much and I- you could've gotten it without me. You're strong, smart, kind. I just thought if you were going to work there then it needs more money put into it, I don't want you working at an underfunded place and ending up unhappy. I- I just want you to be happy."

And with that twinkling look in his eyes as he gazed at you again, you found it hard to hold in your feelings for him.

"You're not mad right? Because I swear you would've gotten it without me." He repeated.

"Seokjin." You said softly and took a step closer to him to where your body lightly pressed to his, he didn't step away.

"I'm not mad. It was sweet, you're sweet." You decided to take the leap. "That's what I like about you, you're soft and funny and kind and I just- I really like you." You looked up at him, placing your hands on his shoulders before inching your face closer and closer to his, he still didn't pull away. Your lips pressed to his softly and he kissed back, only for a moment before he finally pulled away rather quickly.

"Y/n, I-" as he cut himself off he seemed to search your eyes for a moment "I don't want to hurt you."

Your brows furrowed at his words.

"I only want to be friends."

You felt your heart shatter into millions of tiny splinters. How could he say that with the way he always looks at you, with all of his subtle flirting, with how he was just holding your hand? It didn't make sense, but it hurt none the less. You had been so infatuated with him for months, he had just let you kiss him, he had donated to your new job.

"I- I understand." You dropped your arms from his shoulders as your eyes had begun to sting with sudden tears.

"I'm so so sorry. Maybe I led you on but-"

"It feels like it." You were honest as you felt a tear run down your cheek. He was even admitting to it himself, he knew he was leading you on, but did he actually care?

You felt stupid. You felt so dumb for thinking a guy like him could ever like you back. For thinking that you were ever more than merely a plaything or an object to flirt with for someone who could get anyone.

"I- please don’t cry-"

"I'm keeping the job, thanks for getting it for me." You felt more angry than sad now.

"Please don't be like that- I like you- it's just…" he scrambled to try to make you feel better but looking at his handsome face only made you feel worse.

"But what? But you've finally realized I don't fit in with your life? That I'm not one of these sophisticated people like you are, that you're out of my league?" You nearly yelled at him over the sudden pounding at the room door.

"Sir, miss, the party is being ended, there's been an incident. Please vacate the premises." A man on the other side said making Seokjin look confused.

"I-we have to go." Jin stated now looking rushed "we can talk about this later-"

"No, it's fine." You said as you stormed past him towards the door.

You pulled up your dress and dashed down the hall knowing he was coming after you. Once you reached the staircase there seemed to be panic and confusion below but you took off as quickly as you could into the mass of people heading for the door.

You were pushed and shoved as tears fell from your face, you heard chatter of people questioning what was happening and pieces of talk that someone had stolen something, but you didn't care. Your heels sank into the well manicured lawn as you left the people getting into their black expensive cars and leaving.

You didn't stop your mad hurry to escape even after you made it out of the gates of the manner. You kept going until you hit the street where the parade of fancy cars went off in all different directions.

You weren't sure what to do, your phone was probably dead and you couldn't call a taxi. But you knew one thing, you didn't want to wait for Seokjin to find you. You didn't want to look at him anymore tonight. You felt embarrassed by this whole entire night, from not feeling good enough to land your own job, to not feeling good enough to be with Jin, to now standing out by the street with your mascara most likely running from the tears. Maybe he had only always seen you as one big charity case.

"Get in." A voice came over the sound of an engine revving.

You looked to the street in front of you to see another fancy car, but this one was more so than the rest. A yellow and black Lamborghini held up traffic behind it, and while you couldn't see the driver from the other side, you recognized that silky voice from earlier.

"Come on, I'm not going to hurt you, you look like you've already been hurt enough tonight." He urged.

You grabbed the handle of the beautiful car and got in just to spite Seokjin in your mind.

Once you shut the door behind you the car sped off down the street with a satisfying hum.

You looked at the driver to see it was silver haired man from earlier, but did a double take at the strange silver metallic mask he was wearing. It only covered the top half of his face and was adorned with cat ears, the beautiful gems that were interlaid in an intricate pattern on it twinkled even in the dark car.

"You going to a costume party after this?" You commented with a slight laugh.

"Oh love no, we just left the costume party."

You understood right away what he had meant by that, and you had felt the same from the start.

"All those people in their costly costumes and jewels and fine clothing. They were all just putting on a show."

You looked around his expensive car, nice tux and odd silver and jeweled mask.

"And what about you? How are you any different?" You have no idea where this sudden bravery was coming from, maybe you were just projecting from the terrible night you had or simply didn't care anymore.

"Trust me, I'm different. I can see you are too, although you were with the king righteous rich cunt himself, Namjoon. And it looks like you walked in with egotistical prince Seokjin, maybe you aren't different." He glanced over at you. "Then again it looks like your prince charming chewed you up and spat you out on the curb, quite literally."

"Yeah, thanks." You said as you tried to rub the possible dry runs of mascara off your cheeks but probably only succeeded in rubbing off your foundation.

The silver haired stranger reached over and flipped down the sun visor to reveal a mirror that lit up so you could fiddle with your makeup before it got any worse.

"Don't tell me you chase things like money and shallow possessions like them." He went on.

"No, I'm not like that." Your reply was quick.

"Then why were you peacocking at a party on the arm of a big dick bag?"

"If you're not like them then why were you there? You still didn't answer the question." You snapped a little but he just let out a small laugh and opened the console between you and took out a black velvet bag just bigger than your hand, and tossed it into your lap. The first thing you noticed was that it was quite heavy for its size and felt like it held many small things.

"Open it." He almost dared.

You pulled at the drawstring and reached your hand in to feel cold metal pieces. You pulled one out and saw that you held a sparkling ring in your fingers. You pulled another out only to see a long golden string of gems, a diamond necklace.

"W-what?" You sputtered.

"I told you I was nothing like them. I'm a Robin Hood of sorts. Drained all the rich fuckers dry including that prick Namjoon." He glanced over at you once more "You're not gonna tell on me, right?"

You felt a sinking feeling in your gut, maybe you had picked the wrong pretty man to get into the car with tonight.

"No, no-"

"Tell you what. If you agree not to tell on me, you can have that entire bag." You looked over and froze, just trying to figure out if he was serious or not, and so far, he seemed pretty serious. You looked down at the jewelry in the bag still on your lap.

"Not that bag, this one." He reached into the console and tossed another black bag, similar in size onto your lap too, but this one felt much more solid, like a brick in shape only lighter. He reached over, still keeping an eye on the road, and scooped up the bag of jewels and stuck it in the glove box this time in front of your knees.

"You deserve it anyway, you had to put up with prince not so charming. And the whole thing with Robin Hood is he takes from the fortunate and gives to the not so fortunate, and you… well you're looking pretty unfortunate."

You let out a scoff at his comment.

"Are you going to tell me where you live so I can take you home orrrr…? We can drive around all night if you want." He shrugged.

"Oh! Uh, oh." You didn't really know if you should give this confessing burglar your address or not now, but did you have a choice?"

"West side, they're grey apartments called-"

"Yeah, I know exactly which ones. I grew up there on the west side. My mom was kind of poor." He cut you off.

"Didn't you also say your uncle ran-"

"I say a lot of things." He cut you off once more "I'll just drop you off out front when we get there. Smart not giving a stranger your address." He caught onto your little plan right away.

"Uh, thanks." You went to look in the bag that was still on your lap but he stopped you.

"Keep it a surprise." He urged.

There was a quiet moment in the car where you just looked around, but something in the still open console caught your eye, a clear ziplock bag full of little squares. Printed on the squares were a big, red, cartoonishly wide smile with red lips stretched around a large set of teeth.

You caught the silver haired man looking away from the road for a moment to follow your eyes.

"You're as curious as a cat, you know that?"

You had almost thought you had offended him so you began sputtering out apologies.

"Have you ever seen that before? It's pretty popular."

"No." You shook your head.

"You don't do drugs then? You are a smart girl."

He had drugs. He had drugs in the car.

Just as the thought registered to you, red and blue lights flashed from behind you.

Oh fuck.

"Oh dear." The man let out a little laugh as he pulled the Lamborghini over. "Sit on the bag."

You lifted up and did exactly what he said, you didn't know why you would listen to this criminal, you still had a strong feeling you might go to jail tonight either way.

Suddenly the silver haired man grabbed your hand, you were too nervous and frozen with fear to do or say anything.

"Just trust me" he whispered before rolling down his window, you hadn't even seen him take his mask off or saw what he did with it. Your heart beat felt as loud as a drum.

"Hello officer, what can I do for you?" The man's smooth voice did nothing to relax you. You didn't dare to look at the police officer as he shined a flashlight into the car.

"You both coming from the Kim party?" The officers voice was gruff, much less smooth than this stranger who was driving.

"Yes, my fiancé and I were just rather rudely ushered out before dinner after donating a large amount. The audacity. She's in quite the huff about it." The silver haired man's annoyance sounded so real, he sounded so selfish, he sounded like one of them.

"Sorry about your bad night, but you were going over the speed limit. Did you drink anything at the party sir?"

"Please. We had just walked in, there was no time other than to sign a check and get ushered out." The man's thumb soothingly stroked your hand as he leisurely gabbed to the police officer. You wondered if him stroking your hand was part of the show, but it did somehow ease your fears. "I wasn't aware of the speed I was driving, I was just so upset about this whole fiasco. I apologize."

"Don't worry about it sir. You and your fiancé get home safe, alright? Sorry about your night." You were shocked by the policeman's answer, how he had just let the both of you go so easily.

He had already begun to drive again when he spoke.

"Cat got your tongue, love?"

"I- I thought we were going to jail." You were still in disbelief and relief all at once. You realized he was still holding your hand and pulled yours from his.

He let out a sly chuckle.

"It was nothing the roll of money in my front chest pocket couldn't fix. This whole city is crooked, even the cops."

You didn't know if you could possibly be any more surprised tonight.

"Yeah. Yeah. Uh good call." You had no idea what else to say.

"So Arkham asylum. You want to work there knowing who's there?" He changed the subject.

"There are a lot of people there." You stated.

"But there's one in particular that people fear most. You must know that, right? The Joker?" He questioned. You weren't stupid, of course you knew who he was, everyone did, although no one knew much about him including yourself.

"I'm aware Jeon Jungkook is there." You answered.

"Ohhh professional, his real name. Only friends call him by his real name." He said as he took the turn into your neighborhood.

"And how you would know this?" You asked, knowing what he would say, knowing because you had already figured out that this man was a liar.

"I know him."

You knew it.

"And you think you're bragging?" You had had enough of not only tonight but this strangers lies as well.

"Now love, I'm the one driving the Lamborghini with probably millions of dollars worth of things inside, and you're just a girl pretending to have money, that I picked up along the street from the sketchy west side. I don't have to brag to you." You watched as he smirked at the road.

"This is where you can drop me off." You pointed to the grey apartments just in time to avoid furiously going off on this stranger whos silver tongue matched the rest of him.

The car came to a halt and he turned his body to face you.

"You know, if you want I could…" he looked you over "come in and help you out of that dress."

Your nose wrinkled up and you grimaced at his offer.

"Not a chance." You replied and put your hand on the door to open it.

"Wait. Take the bag." He pointed out the one you had still been sitting on. "It's my gift to you, you don't need Seokjin or his money or anything. Remember that."

You stupidly picked up the bag, just wanting out of the car away from this guy who confused and annoyed you. You got out of the car and you waited for him to speed off before you headed for your apartment.

Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, threw the bag down on the coffee table, anxious to get out of the dress that had felt like it was slowly squeezing you to death over the course of the night. You managed to shed yourself of it and head right for the bathroom, turning on the shower, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you let out a disgruntled groan.

You looked terrible now that you saw yourself in full light. Your lipstick had managed to smear across your face, your mascara had run and smudged all over.

"I look like a clown." You grumbled "no wonder Seokjin didn't want me, this is probably how he sees me all the time."

Ready to take the quickest shower ever and just call it a night, you were too tired to even wallow in your self pity.

Tomorrow would be a big day anyway. It would be your first day at the job that had been bought for you.

You were keeping the job, not just that, but you were now driven to excel at it, to show everyone that you were no charity case.

[liron-ao3]

Read on AO3 here.

Pie-ning

It's in the wee hours and the kitchen worktop looks like after a demon attack.

A thin layer of flour dusts the stainless steel, butter softened by being outside the fridge for too long slowly greases the surface. Scraps of clingfilm are stuck on the bench, and dough sticks to a rolling pin. Formerly ice-cold water reached room temperature a while ago.

Castiel sits at the wooden dining table, his arms folded underneath his head. "This is a disaster," he murmurs.

The plan started easy enough. Castiel waited until Dean, Sam, and Jack were fast asleep. Then he started with the filling, because the recipe said so.

Unfortunately he hadn't read it properly. It asked for ready made pie crusts and well, he hadn't had the time to go shopping and smuggling the apples inside had been difficult enough.

The filling was already cooling in the pot when Castiel started to search the internet for pie crust recipes. They sounded easy enough. Boy, was he wrong.

Cutting the dough with a fork was a drudgery and it took ages to produce something that looked even close to what the photos showed. Why for heaven's sake had a kitchen where Dean Winchester lived and breathed not a pastry cutter!?

The recipe mentioned to cool the dough for an hour, but Castiel was running out of time and hoped it wouldn't turn out too bad if he gave it just 15 minutes in the fridge.

Well, it did. Turn out bad, that is. About half an hour ago, Castiel declared defeat by carbohydrates and fat. Stupid molecules!

Right when he decides to rise and clean up the mess he made, the kitchen door swings open. In comes Dean, eyes still at halfmast, the open bathrobe showing his batman pyjamas. Castiel can't suppress a small smile at the sight. How can a grown man look so adorable?

When Dean catches his gaze, Castiel looks down at his wringing hands, not sure if he can hide the heat he sure feels crawling up his neck. Maybe it's just a phantom blush. He hopes it is just that.

"Whatcha doin', Cass?" Dean asks, looking around the kitchen. He scowls at the chaos.

Castiel diverts his gaze to the messy worktop and opens his mouth to say something, but his lips close again when he realises that the reason is a sure thing to turn into something he will be the butt of the joke of.

He gets up and walks over, scrapes the unsuccessful attempt of an apple pie into the wastebin.

Dean watches him in utter silence. He frowns at the scene as Castiel opens the fridge to save the rest of the butter, walks to the kitchen sink, does the dishes as if he hadn't heard the question still hanging between them.

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his still sleep-heavy head. This is too much before his first coffee of the day.

He contemplates to walk over to prepare a cup of liquid ambrosia, but the even for his own standards oddly acting angel deems him more important. Dean cocks an eyebrow at that thought. Must be the sleep deprivation talking.

Castiel concentrates on the cleaning. Maybe Dean will just walk away and leave him be. It's not as if he didn't already think him to be weird. Even after knowing each other for so long, Castiel is well aware of the fact that they might be friends, even family of some kind, but that Dean still doesn't see him as a normal man. He is always set apart, but who isn't in this strange, self-made family? They are all freaks in their own ways.

Dean's attempts to dress him up, to make him appear more human notwithstanding, Castiel thinks he still sees him as not really part of this world. Or maybe it's just Castiel's fear that whispers these thoughts into his ear. They've never been good at talking things out. That nearly broke their friendship more than once.

As Castiel pulls the plug and dries his hands on the white apron Dean loves to use, he feels a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. He wishes it would ground him, but it doesn't. It stirs him up in a very confusing way. It's not exactly hurting. Castiel knows pain. He's a born soldier after all. But on the other hand, it kind of does, but in a more than physical way. Every touch outside a life and death situation sends tendrils through his body, interacts with his grace, lights up every synapse of the human body that is wholy his now. He feels like going up in flames, the heat spreading like a wildfire from his shoulder to every cell of his body.

The hand just stays where Dean put it, a silent question, just a few more unspoken words between them.

Castiel wishes he could just say out loud what it feels like to be touched by Dean. To finally see his reaction. At this point the outcome would be nearly all the same to him. His urge to make Dean happy, to help him with all the crap that is thrown at him won't go away anyway.

"Speak to me, buddy," Dean orders, his voice still rough from sleep, and Castiel huffs a tiny laugh in response.

"I wanted to surprise you."

Castiel can nearly hear Dean's frown now. He turns to look at the other man which is a mistake as they are standing way too close now. But they somehow always do, so what's the point in correcting it?

The soft titillation of Dean's breath dancing on Castiel's skin is a welcome distraction from the thoughts the angel allows himself to think only very rarely in Dean's presence.

The hunter's breath catches and he takes a step back. Of course.

"I thought it would be nice to have pie for the special occasion. I know traditionally it's a cake, but as you love pie, I thought ..."

Dean stares at him in confusion. "What are you talking about, man?"

"It's your birthday, Dean." Castiel shrugs his shoulders nearly apologetically. "Granted, I don’t know the traditions in the House of Winchester, as I never celebrated your birthdays with you before, but Sam didn't buy a cake and Jake won't know that ..."

"You baked me a birthday pie?" Dean asks with barely hidden delight in his voice. His face lights up in the most beautiful way. It takes Castiel's breath away for a long moment.

"Well, ... I tried," he says when he can breathe again. He gestures to the waste bin and presses his jaws together, "but it seems I failed."

Dean starts laughing, a whole body, full belly laugh. He slams his hands on the worktop and shakes his head. Castiel looks at him, a tiny smile forming on his lips. He could hear Dean laugh for all eternity. It's not often enough that he has a reason to do it. The lines around his eyes are at least 50 percent made of grief and pain. Castiel would give everything to let them grow deeper only from laughter from now on.

The sparkle in Dean's eyes catches him off guard. There was a time when Castiel had seen the beauty of Dean's soul, the goodness of his heart. He still sees all of this despite the things the hunter has done and what others did to him. But there is even more he sees now.

Maybe it's because he lived with humans for too long or it's just Dean, Castiel isn't quite sure. But what he is sure about is that Dean is beautiful on a purely physical level, scars, wrinkles, and all. It's the greenness of his eyes and the curl of his lips, the slight curve if his nose and the freckles dusting his cheeks. Castiel can barely keep himself from staring. Not that any of them is good at stopping themselves from doing that, again and again. It's awkward for everyone forced to watch.

Dean grins at him with that boyish look that makes him seem a decade younger and that turns Castiel's legs into jelly. Dean Winchester will be the death of him, most likely literally. The angel doesn't even care. It would be worth it, if he saved him instead.

"That's ...," Dean trails off and blushes a little. Adorable and beautiful shouldn't be looks that go hand in hand together, but the hunter somehow pulls it off. "I don't know what to say, buddy ... Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank for. Filling doesn't make a pie." Castiel waves his hand into the stove's direction and Dean straightens to walk over. He sticks his finger into the mixture and stuffs a piece of apple into his mouth.

Cinnamon explodes on his tounge, the tartness of the apple perfectly balanced with brown sugar. "That stuff is good. I tell ya, I could eat it with a spoon."

The mere thought that Castiel put into this warms Dean's heart in ways that he couldn't admit to anybody. He wished he could speak his thruth out loud just once. How these little gestures keep him from falling apart, how Castiel's kindness rubbs off on him, and how thankfull he is that the angel somehow manages it to keep him human. But that's not possible, not without risking to let even deeper things out. "This is friggin' awesome!" he says instead.

Castiel smiles mildly at the praise. He watches Dean beam at him as if he hang the moon and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest. Human bodies are weird.

"As I see it, we have two options here," Dean says matter-of-factly.

Castiel raises a questioning eyebrow, amusement clearly tugging on the corners of his lips. "Is that so?"

"Mmh," Dean says around another fingerful of filling. "A - We pull out the spoons and share it just between us; the others will never know. Or B - I show you how to make a proper crust."

Castiel's face turns into a countenance of surprise. "You know how to do that?"

"Yeah. It's not as easy as pie. The folk saying is wrong about that. But it's no witchcraft either."

Dean raises his hand to motion Castiel to stay put and returns just a few minutes later with an old notebook in his hand. A women's handwriting says 'Recipes' on the front and Dean browses the pages until he finds what he was looking for.

Castiel watches him in silence, his eyes tightening in concentration. Dean appears almost bubbly. The angel hasn't seen him like that often. It only occurs when the hunter lets his guard down and that's barely happening.

"There it is. My grandma's pie recipe. That's how my mum baked it."

Pain flickers over Dean's face for a second before he schools it. He walks to the fridge and pulls a fresh block of butter from the back of it, then collects the other ingredients.

"It's important to work quickly and then give it a good, cool rest," he says and starts working as if he had done this a hundred times before. Maybe he did. Castiel watches him with awe.

"Help me with the water and the vinegar," the hunter says and Castiel obliges with a soft smile, watching as Dean uses a wooden spoon to incorporate the liquids and then switches to using his hands to form the dough.

"I didn't know you were a baker," Castiel states.

Dean chuckles. "Well, I haven't done proper baking until we moved into the bunker. I used cake mixes before that. One year I stole cupcakes from the store for Sammy's birthday."

Dean's smile falters at the memory. "We aren't really great at celebrations. I tried to give Sammy the holiday and birthday experience, but ... I guess it fell short on what other people have."

Castiel looks at him with sad eyes. "I'm sure Sam appreciated your efforts."

Dean shrugs it off. There is no use in dwelling too long on his fucked up childhood. He clears his throat. "Where is the plastic wrap?"

Castiel reaches under the table and hands it over, their fingers brushing against each other when Dean takes it. The hunter looks at him from beneath his long eyelashes. Castiel remembers when he recreated every single one of them, not knowing what a gaze thrown through them would be able to do to him one day.

He swallows the sudden lump in his throat. Maybe he should just say it, get over with it, see Dean's disgust or delight or even indifference. But, no. That could destroy everything between them. It's enough to be allowed to be in Dean's orbit. It has to.

Dean busies himself to put the dough into the fridge and cleans the surface of the worktop. He dries his hands at a rag and leans against the kitchen island. Castiel's gaze is as unreadable as it is inescapable now and Dean feels a rush of something running through his body.

The softness of Castiel's eyes is warming him from inside out and the feeling is highly disturbing. He can't have these kind of emotions for his best friend who isn't even a real human being.

Dean rolls his eyes inwardly at himself. As if that would be the main problem here. He interrupts his train of thought and walks over to the coffee maker, brewing two cups.

"I wish I could have taken the pain away," Castiel says seemingly apropos of nothing.

Dean sits down at the table, putting one mug in front of him and one on the opposite side of the table. He stays silent for a long moment. "Care to elaborate?"

"When I rebuilt you. My order was to pull you out of hell and put you back into the exact state you were before, past injuries, bad memories, and all. I wish I had known you well enough then to spare you at least some of them."

Dean purses his lips and shruggs. "It's what made me who I am today."

Castiel nods and sits down. "That's true. A righteous man, loyal and caring. The best friend someone could ask for."

Dean blushes under the praise. "Come on, man. Don't turn this into a chick flick moment."

Castiel tilts his head to the side and his eyes tighten in concentration when he scrutinises the other man. "I wish you could see yourself the way that I do, Dean," he finally sighs, well knowing that the stubborn hunter would rather leave than listen to the truth. The truth that he is worthy to be saved, worthy to be loved, worthy to die for.

Dean takes a big gulp of his coffee, burning his tongue in the process. The pain is a welcome feeling. It eases the sadness and melancholy inside him that swarms his guts like an unwanted colony of bees. He can't handle Castiel looking at him like that, so open and warm as if he were the most precious gem in God's vast creation.

No, it can't be that. Castiel could never look at him like this. He knows his very soul, he knows how broken he is inside, how ugly his dark spots are and how rare the light ones. There's no way that he looks at him in adoration.

Dean wriggles about on his chair. He doesn't know what to make of it, of this look, of the way the angel always comes back no matter how often he chases him away. And he doesn't know what to make of the feeling of pure relief every time he sees his angel again, well and alive.

Fuck, this shouldn't be so difficult, right? He is just a friend, his best friend. Dean would bake him a cake too, if the angel had a birthday. Or maybe not. Without Castiel Dean wouldn't even know that it is his birthday, today. Calendars kind of lose their meaning if you're hunting monsters and fighting God 24/7, 365 days a year.

No, celebrations and anniversaries are for normal people, and the Winchesters and their chosen family are anything but.

The two men drink their coffee in silence until Dean starts chuckling. Castiel raises a questioning eyebrow.

"One year, I bought a cheap cake mix for my birthday. I used margarine to make it, butter was too expensive. The cake tasted awful," he chuckles. "But Sammy had the idea to coat it and we built little towers of thin sliced cake and jelly layers. My old man was drunk in front of the tv. I had been so happy that he wasn't gone for once that I brought him the tower I had built and he looked at me in this way, where your insides get all twisted and you think you will throw up."

Dean's fingers run over the rim of his now empty mug. He shakes his head to clear it from the memory. Why is every good one always attached to one tainting it?

He feels Castiel's hand nudging on his own, giving it a squeeze when he lets go of the cup without resistance. They keep the contact, loose and soft. It should bug Dean, but he can't make himself pull away. Castiel's hand is like an anchor pinning him to the presence. It's way too easy to get lost in memories if there isn't something or someone to hold on to.

Dean doesn't know how long they are sitting like this. It doesn't matter. He is so starved of human touch. When did he stop to pick up women for that? Maybe at the same time he started to feel comfortable in the rare hugs he and Castiel are sharing.

The timer pulls him out of his unhelpful musing. "Time to rock'n'roll," he exclaims a little too enthusiastically as he pulls his hand away, missing the touch instantly.

Castiel follows him and watches as he dusts the worktop with flour, much more lightly than the angel did a few hours earlier.

"C’mere," Dean says. "I'll teach you how to roll it out properly."

Castiel walks around the kitchen island and stands in front of the two balls of dough, squinting at them suspiciously.

Dean chuckles. "They won't bite. Flour the rolling pin and roll it over it. Not too timidly and not too slow. If it cracks in some places, we can fix it later."

Castiel does as he's told, but the dough doesn't cooperate. Dean laughs at his failing attempts and the angel swears unholy curses, the scale of his embarrassment rising steadily. For heaven's sake. He should be able to do such a mundane task with ease.

He's just short of giving up when he feels Dean moving around him, his hands gliding past him on either side.

Castiel holds his breath when Dean puts his hands on top of his own and guides his movements. The hunter's breath tickles his ear and the closeness of their bodies is nearly unbearable.

If Castiel just knew that Dean is feeling the same. That he's wavering between joy and dread, that the fear to overstep any boundaries nearly overwhelms him. But it feels too good to lightly press into the angel's body and it would be awkward if he pulled back now. So he decides to enjoy it, a little birthday present that's harming no-one but him.

When they managed to roll both crust out, Dean steps back and prepares the baking tin. It's only when the decorated pie is in the oven that his mind goes fully back to Castiel who just finished the cleanup.

Dean should make fun of his appearance, the apron powdered with flour just like the coat the angel is still wearing underneath. But he can't find it in himself to tease him. Because honestly? Castiel without his trenchcoat would border on nudity and Dean knows better than to let his thoughts go astray. It's too risky. It might make him blurt out how much he loves him, that he wants him to stay. Forever.

But no good would come out of it. Are angels even capable of romantic love? Physical attraction, sure. He had that with Anna. Obsession, clearly, as Ishim showed. But true love? Dean swallows at his own thoughts. He knows by now of what nature his feelings for Castiel are. It's not as if he didn't try not to fall in love with the angel. But he can't help it. Damn it, Elvis, shut up!

"What is it?" Castiel asks softly, his low voice vibrating through Dean's very soul.

"Nothing." Yeah, that sounded totally convincing. He clears his throat. "Thank you. For the idea to make me pie and for spending the time with me to finish it."

That sounded more cheezy than wanted, but Castiel doesn't get that. It's little mercies like these that keep Dean from forming puddles of embarrassment ever so often.

"You're welcome," Castiel says, forrowing his brows in a way Dean wants to kiss away. "I liked spending time with you. Although I still wish I would have managed to do it on my own."

Dean chuckles. "I baked our birthday cakes every year, but the only time I remember is the one with the jelly towers. It's memories like that that will stay with us, Cass. Not the picture perfect ones. Not that I had plenty of experience with those. Anyway." Dean clears his throat again. Why is it so dry?

Castiel nods. "You are a remarkable man and I hope to make many more beautiful memories like this with you."

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat with no success. How can the angel just say something like that? As if it was the most natural thing to say. Maybe it is. Or Castiel is just insane. Dean doesn't know what's normal anymore. Maybe he doesn't want to if it means having the angel at his side.

"Yeah," he agrees tersely, too worried that the truth might spill out otherwise. How Castiel's sheer presence makes his life more beautiful, that he would be happy to just look into his eyes and forget the world as he does right now. But he keeps it inside, neatly packed away next to all the other things he holds on tightly, never to see the light of day. His love is poison. He knows that. It had been for Sam, for Lisa and Ben, and even for Castiel way too many times to count.

He wasn't aware that he was staring again when Castiel moves into his personal space and cups his face tenderly with both hands. It would be easy to just lean in a little, to brush his lips over the angel's.

"Happy birthday, Dean," Castiel says reverently and Dean closes his eyes. It's too much and way too little. And still the best birthday present of his life.

[black-streak]

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - A Little Perspective

Part 12

This actually takes a bit of a different tone to what the rest has been and is more of a reflecting inner monologue than anything else. But! We finally get a little more insight on Tim. Those who were there when this entire story idea sparked for me on the discord might recognize what this set up is leading to! And let me say, that bit is coming very very soon. Like, in the next three parts. Which means the main plotline is almost up! Anyways!

Tag list: @emjrabbitwolf @mystery-5-5 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @fandomkitty8 @dast218 @silvergold-swirl @shizukiryuu . @my-name-is-michell @kurogaya913 @elspethshadow @thecatnipmademedoit @shamefullove @ladylucina28 @crazylittlemunchkin @rayray384 @cassiejaydee @yuulxd @ladysblackcat @naclychilli @caffeinetheory @persephonebutkore @fertileleaf @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @weird-pale-blonde-person @st0rmy-w1th1n @littleblue5mcdork @dudet @naoryllis @disneyfoxuniverse

~---~

Sometimes, old hobbies come back from the dead. 

'Like many things in my life,' Tim snarked to himself, meticulously cleaning each detachable lens and placing it back in the small carry case for his camera. 

The old camera hadn't seen the light of day in nearly 7 years, when suddenly it became an almost weekly guest star to his life once more. Normally on a night where patrol fell to someone else or early in the morning after a quieter night out. Occasionally it would sneak out during a date or after waking up with a warm body pressed to his. And while Marinette supported and encouraged his newest endeavour, he never informed her that she'd been the inspiration. Or rather, Vixen.

It started when she first moved into Gotham, before Damian had brought her home and formally introduced them all. A shadow started descending on the nights of the city, but unlike most, this one seemed determined to make a positive impact, even if it never played by the rules. 

Thugs didn't find themselves unsure of how they arrived at a police station. Civilians were never found being helped by sweet, gentle strangers. Stray animals wouldn't stalk people around without an ounce of fear in their step. And Gotham villains did not fumble into their own traps so inexplicably as to knock them unconscious and be easily transported back to Arkham.

And yet, the entire family had come reeling to the fact that all of these things were exactly what was happening.

And as usual, the job of figuring out who exactly decided that rules were flexible fell to Babs and himself. 

That went downhill fast.

Cameras, street or self planted picked up nothing. No amount of hacking, research, or heat detectors could scrounge up an ounce of proof to even confirm the shadow was real. They often found Babs cursing under her breathe in those days, unable to comprehend what type of magic bullshitery this nonsense was.

Tim… well Tim thrived on the challenge. At first, he cursed and bemoaned the lost hours to no results, only to find himself being stalked one night. Shivers ran rampant down his spine as hair stood on end. The warehouse looked empty, but he knew better. He sensed eyes following his every step through the place. Taking the risk, he left to see if the feeling continued, only to find to his delight that it did. The shadow was tailing him. 

While nothing else came from that night, the idea started to form that perhaps if he kept its interest, he could study it as it studied him. Sure, the creature learned his behaviors as well, but his backup outnumbered it if things came to a head.

Two weeks after, Marinette barrelled head long into their lives. The tiny woman seemed timid at first glance, but a keen eye could see the sharp, intelligent gleam to hers. With the hunt for the shadow still in motion and the little woman's attachment to the coldest of the bats, Tim kept his distance. He felt no dire need to pursue any connection to someone perfectly content staying by his little brother's side. Especially if that gleam was any clue as to how dangerous getting close could be. Marinette was beautiful and intelligent and if the muscles coating her body were to be trusted, most likely vicious in combat. In other words, ridiculously attractive. And completely off limits. For as much as Damian might have believed otherwise in their early days, Tim wouldn't compete for someone his brother was so obviously endeared to.

However, that never stopped her from approaching him. Randomly at times, he'd find her by his side, asking questions or offering random thoughts to whatever project he laid out in front of him. Eventually, the object of his newest obsession came to light. Not that she knew they were speaking of the shadow, but Marinette had helped nonetheless. She took one look at his research and made an offhand comment about things being easier to decipher and look back on when provided with pictures and suddenly he was off, rooting through the closet in his old room, hunting for a camera case.

Suddenly, proofing the shadow followed him became easier. He patrolled until his senses alerted him to a new presence and worked around it until he found himself facing towards the entity, pulling out a camera and snapping a series of pictures. It became little things he clamored to: the way something shifted, how random little flickers of movement happened in the edge of photos, how a perfectly steady camera somehow had a haze to half of it's pictures. It threw him back to his days following Batman and Robin and then later, Nightwing through the streets, practically studying them under a microscope until he eventually uncovered their identities.

 In retrospect, that's probably how he gave himself away. Suddenly the shadow became more present, constantly showing up for all his nights as though it knew his schedule, despite not being consistent.

 In retrospect, that's also how it gave itself away. Or rather, herself. 

Vigilante talk had always been heavily coded for the family no matter if they were alone or not. Only the Batcave allowed freedom to speak openly. So who could possibly hear enough of their conversations to not only decode the meaning, but for long enough to use the scheduling to stalk him for more than three weeks now? The answer: Marinette. 

And yet, Tim couldn't bring himself to give her away. His shadow never caused any real harm. Always cleaned up after herself and honestly was doing hero's work when she branched off. The only real problem the bats had with her was that she was an unknown. But now? He knew her, so it became okay. Plus, he hadn't any proof, so really, it was self preservation that led to him not accusing Damian's little girlfriend of being the hidden creature in their night. Or so he told himself.

Suddenly, he found himself sneaking photos of the young designer, comparing her movements and stature to anything he could from the photos of his shadow. He never found anything concrete, but the pictures continued. If only because now he found that Marinette made an excellent subject and never seemed to mind the few times she noticed his lens pointed in her direction. They still kept distant, but it was too late. Tim knew too much and only became more fascinated and drawn in until a startling realization hit: he wanted her. Only he couldn't and would not pursue her, for she was with Damian. 

But suddenly, that was thrown out the window. Because she wasn't with Damian and the two had no interest in one another. Because she pressed herself into Tim's side and coerced him into sleep and flirted with intent. Because suddenly his shadow in the night followed him in the day and called herself his.

He found himself in the precarious position of hiding her secret from his family and protecting her from those who did find her all the while watching her freely laugh and tease with the same people in the light of day. He took photos of it all. From her laughter at the antics of his brothers, to the content look upon her face as she baked with Alfred. From the soft smile on her lips as she slept in his arms to the mischievous look she shot him from the folds of her transformed suit. Obviously he couldn't carry the camera on him at all times, but the collection grew nevertheless, tucked away in a compiled folder on his desktop, only labeled Mari.

Soon after, the subject changed and expanded, moving to capture the Gotham skyline at dawn or the gothic cathedrals as the sun set behind them. Cats stalking in the moonlight, Dick swinging from a chandelier. Jason with the softest smile he'd ever seen the man wear. Titus playing with Ace in the front yard. The view from his office chair at work. Damian hanging from the ceiling, trying to coerce a bat into letting him take it down below to treat a small nic in its side. Alfred relaxing in the garden. All pleasant memories he no longer wanted to take a chance of forgetting. And of course, the lens found its way back to Mari, but it was so much more now.

Closing the camera case and tucking it away as a small knock sounded at his door, Tim could only smile a little to himself. Maybe Vixen the mystery had started all of this, but truly, the outcome made all the sleepless nights and headaches and confusion worth it.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Will you be writing another fic? Because your previous chapter got me thinking of Marinette being dipped in the chemical thing like Harley and had been and becomes crazy like them.

Yeah… trigger warnings. I don’t really know the words for a lot of triggers but if you’re squeamish around emotional and physical abuse or Stockholm syndrome I would suggest not reading this

Also, fun fact: this actually was an alternate ending for Satisfied I considered but ended up not doing because it was darker than I wanted the fic to go

Also also, you don’t need to read Satisfied to read this one. There are a few references to the story, but really all you need to know is that Marinette is using the horse miraculous to spy on the Rogues

She hummed lightly as she went around the warehouse, gathering her things (Catwoman had a tendency to take her things, then get bored of them and leave them in random places). She was just about to open a portal when Joker spoke:

“Wait, NightMare, could you come back later tonight?”

A chill ran down her spine and Marinette spun on her heel to face him.

“Of course, Joker, sir. May I know why?” She said as pleasantly as she could.

He only smiled wider behind his mask.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek and opened a portal for herself.

~

Marinette stepped into the warehouse again and hugged herself tightly. There were no Rogues in sight outside of Joker, who was leaning against his cane as he waited for her.

But, while this worried her, what really messed with her was the fact that he was standing on a tarp. She strained to remember whether or not the tarp had been there earlier, because if it hadn’t…

She tasted blood and quickly released her tongue.

The plastic crinkled beneath her as she walked over to him.

“What did you need me for, sir?”

He didn’t answer again.

“Is something wrong?”

The man finally looked at her and icy dread flooded through her veins. He wasn’t smiling.

But she didn’t have time to figure out what his expression meant, because the lights chose that exact moment to flicker and die.

Marinette made two tiny portals and slowly moved them around, using the dim blue light that they gave off as a kind of makeshift flashlight. It was barely anything, she could still only see a few steps ahead of her, but at least it was better than the total darkness she’d just been in.

She looked around for Joker and couldn’t help but panic a little bit when she couldn’t find him. Where had he gone? He was just next to her, and the tarp crinkled underneath her with every step, how had he just up and disappeared without her knowing?

“I’ll go find the fuse box,” she said softly. There was a very low chance that this was a coincidence but she wasn’t going to risk her identity quite yet.

Her eyes peered around the darkness and she started to walk, only to hear the tarp crinkle behind her. She whipped around in surprise just in time to see the mallet coming towards her face.

Her head jerked back so painfully she swore her neck snapped and she found herself weightless.

Or, at least, she felt weightless right up until she slammed into a wall headfirst. She became painfully aware of just how not weightless she was as her body crumpled in on itself.

She slid to the floor slowly. Her head pounded painfully and she could barely see through all the colorful lights dancing in her vision. She tried to shake her head to get rid of them, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Harley came into view and Marinette cursed when she realized that she was the one to hit her with the mallet. The woman wore an uncharacteristically sad expression as she pointed it at her.

“You were really working for Bats the whole time?” She whispered, her voice soft.

“I don’t…” She swallowed back bile and blood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please…”

The woman in front of her sighed. “Liar.”

She raised her mallet and Marinette tried to move her body. It was supposed to move, she was telling it to move, why wouldn’t it move?

The mallet came down on her and her eyes rolled back in her head.

~

God, five senses and all of them sucked.

People were screaming in her left ear. Someone must have manually turned on her comm. Every word felt like a mallet to the head (something that she now could say for certain). Their voices blended together, though, and it was useless to even try to discern what they were saying.

Her nose was bleeding. Every painful breath through her definitely broken nose was accented by the scent of her blood.

She’d tried to breathe through her mouth, only to taste blood instead of smell it.

Someone had bound her in her own lasso, and they hadn’t been gentle. The rope dug into her skin and chaffed against her with every breath.

The lights were back on. She wished they weren’t. The lights were so bright that even having her eyes open a sliver sent pain racing through her skull.

But she needed to see. She peeled her eyes open.

The Rogues were all standing over her, betrayal etched on each of their faces.

Outside of Joker, who looked like he was having the time of his life.

She didn’t really know which was worse.

“So, she’s finally stopped dreaming!” Said Joker brightly. “Now, we have limited time before the bats start tracking you -- if they haven’t already -- so be a doll and tell us which ear your comm is in.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, only to choke on her own blood.

“I’d suggest telling us, it’ll be a lot less painful for you,” said Penguin, pointing his umbrella at her.

Marinette glared up at them, lips pressed together tightly.

“Right, we’ll have to guess,” said Catwoman.

Penguin nodded. He tipped his head from side to side as if considering before he positioned his umbrella under her left ear. She could feel the cold blade against her earlobe and horror filled her as she realized what was happening. He pressed down on her stomach with his foot to hold her still and then sliced upwards.

Her ear fell to the floor beside her.

She nearly bit her tongue off to stop herself from screaming. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help the rest of her reaction: her body wouldn’t stop shaking, tears and blood spilled from her head.

Joker leaned down next to her and checked the wound.

“Wrong one!”

Her eyes widened. But it was the right one. Her tear-filled eyes found Harley’s. Surely, she could tell he was lying. That was her thing. Marinette couldn’t tell them -- if she opened her mouth she would sob, and she could not let them hear that -- but Harley could.

But the woman averted her gaze.

And Penguin pressed harder into her to hold her still again and poised his umbrella over her right ear.

And then he chopped that one off, too.

A guttural scream escaped her lips despite her best attempts to stifle it and she thrashed around desperately.

Joker leaned down and gave a mock gasp of surprise. “Oh!” His voice sounded tiny and far away. “Guess I missed it! Oopsies!”

He reached into her left ear and dug her comm out with his gloved fingers. She spasmed around in her bindings, sobs slipping from between her lips.

She couldn’t even manage to stay conscious long enough to watch him smash her comm -- her last chance of being saved -- under his foot.

~

She woke up to the sound of metal scraping against metal.

It was just Harley and Joker right now, and they were pushing the heavy lid off of a vat of acid.

She was also still tied up, but that was hardly important to her at the moment.

Wait, actually, now that she was trying to get away, it was definitely important to her.

“Oh, look who woke up just in time, Harls!” Said Joker when he noticed her slowly inch-worming away.

She cursed quietly and then shot him a glare. “So, what’s the plan here? Throw me in acid and see if it kills me? It won't.”

Joker laughed, waving her off. “Of course not! This is trial number two of my experiments.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh? An experiment? You have an independent and dependent variable? How are you quantifying it? Where’s your control group?”

Harley shook her head, giving her a look like ‘shut up if you know what’s good for you’.

Marinette, in fact, did not know what was good for her.

“Besides, that implies that you’ve done this before.”

“I have! On Red Robin. Of course, that experiment failed… he didn’t kill Batman like I’d asked him to, but I think I know where I went wrong!”

She raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t heard about this.

“You see, for him I had to be careful how much I tortured him. If I had killed him then it would have been a waste of time and effort. But with you… I can do whatever I want with you and you won’t die.”

Oh. Fuck.

Still, she gave him a cocky grin. “But he snapped out of your brainwashing and everything. Clearly, torture doesn’t work. I doubt the amount you do will make it any different.”

His eyes narrowed.

“We’ll see about that.”

She took a deep breath as he picked her up and brought her to the edge of the vat. She just had to make sure to hold her breath for as long as possible…

Except, the moment her skin touched the acid, she screamed.

It felt like every cell in her body was attempting to break away from her. She screamed until her throat was raw. Every movement pulled another sob from her lips.

She needed to breathe. But there wasn’t anything around her to breathe in besides acid. She tried to hold it off as long as she could, but it was useless. She acid streamed into her nose and mouth and suddenly the pain was on the inside, too.

A different pain started on her scalp and suddenly cold air rushed over her.

Joker had pulled her out by her hair, and was now holding her torso above the acid. Sure, everything still in the acid and her insides were still on fire, but it wasn’t all of her anymore.

“If you want it to stop, just say please.” He cupped his free hand to his ear like he was about to listen to her.

She opened her mouth, prepared to beg despite her pride, but all that came out was acid. Had she forgotten how to breathe? To speak? She tried to force some air into her lungs, she knew the basic motion for breathing, but it couldn’t seem to push through any of the acid.

“Well, if you have nothing to say…”

He pushed her head back under again.

God, she wished she was dead. Her body was trying so hard to die, she could feel it. The problem was the stupid suit she was wearing: the horse miraculous wasn’t about to give up its user without a fight.

She mouthed the words, but it was useless. You have to actually say them. No sound left her lips, so she was forced to remain painfully alive.

She slowly curled in on herself in the acid, unable to do anything besides cry.

And then a hand pulled her out again. This time, to her surprise, she fully left the vat.

She looked at Harley through heavy eyelids and the woman reached out and gently closed her eyes for her.

Joker sounded annoyed as he spoke: “You’d better have some good suggestions, Harley.”

“Of course! I was a psychiatrist, I can break her for you! Here’s what I suggest we do...”

Marinette didn’t get to hear the suggestions, she was too busy falling unconscious.

~

She woke up on the floor of what appeared to be a lab. Clinically bright lights assaulted her eyes and she had to keep her gaze on the ground to stop herself from crying.

She wasn’t bound anymore. This didn’t mean that moving was easy. Her body shook as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

“Ah, she’s awake!” Said Scarecrow’s voice.

Her head whipped around to where it had come from, she hadn’t noticed another person with her, and found it was only a speaker on the wall. Oh. That made more sense.

“Now, this is a new batch. I’ve been working to perfect my fear toxin, and I think this is the one! Do tell me about your experience when this is over.”

She watched as the gas flooded into the room. Adrenaline coursed through her as she looked around. She needed a way out.

There! Maybe! Whatever, she had no other options!

She ran to the observation window. It was one-way glass, she couldn’t see through it, but they had to be there. She threw herself at it as hard as she could and groaned in pain when she realized it was bullet-proof glass. Now she knew how Hood had felt when he’d crashed into that window. No wonder he hadn’t moved for twenty minutes afterward. Her body throbbed painfully.

And why should she move? It wasn’t like she was going to be able to avoid the gas.

She closed her eyes as the gas enveloped her.

For a second there was nothing.

She allowed herself to think that, hey, maybe it was a bust. He’d said it was a new version, after all...

And then she heard screaming.

Her eyes snapped open and she watched with horror at the scene unfolding in front of her.

She was at the Wayne Gala, if the fancy outfits and semi-familiar surroundings meant anything. But it wasn’t the calm, posh event that she’d been told about: everyone was running around and screaming at the top of their lungs.

And she could see why.

The Rogues stood at the door, their goons behind them.

And they were all holding machine guns.

“Tikki, spots on!”

She ran through the crowd, pushing past terrified civilian after terrified civilian. She could see the bats doing the same.

And then they opened fire.

People fell to the ground, riddled with holes.

She couldn’t think about it. She ran faster, desperate to do something. Anything.

A shot nailed her in the head.

She was unconscious before she’d even hit he ground.

Marinette groaned as she pushed herself to a sitting position. Just a nightmare, then. Sunlight glared down on her and she brought up a hand to use to block some of it out so she could open her eyes a little.

And god, did she wish she hadn’t. The area around her was covered in bodies. People, the ghost of their last moments of terror on their face, all slumped over each other, motionless. Dried blood coated the grass.

“Oh, thank god, you’re up. You can fix it, right?” Said Tim, and she quickly turned to look at him. She hadn’t been expecting to see him or the rest of the bats there. She breathed a sigh of relief. They were okay, at least…

And then she processed what he’d asked her.

She looked at the floor to avoid their gazes, which was decidedly a mistake. Bile built up in the back of her throat.

So… so much blood…

Damian clicked his tongue. “C’mon, hurry up. They’ve been dead for ages. They’re going to smell soon.”

Her eyes snapped back to him, and she would have been angry at any other time. Now, though, as she looked at them all…

“I… I didn’t summon a lucky charm. I can’t… I’m so sorry...”

Jason’s eyes widened behind his mask, and then he groaned and brought his hands to his hair. “What the fuck do you mean you can’t?!”

She winced.

“You didn’t think to cast a lucky charm beforehand?” Said Damian with a scowl on his face.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it.”

“How? It’s literally your thing,” said Dick.

Marinette felt tears spill over the front of her mask and she brought up a hand to wipe them away, only to find it was coated in dried blood.

“What the fuck do we even keep you around for?” Jason said, pulling her attention back to them.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “We should have known after that whole ‘murdering a clerk’ incident.”

“That was an accident!”

“The only way you could kill someone accidentally is if you were an idiot.”

“I’m not stupid, but it was an accident!”

They weren’t looking at her anymore.

“I told you we should have tried harder to make her give up after the convenience store stuff,” said Bruce with a tiny frown.

“No, what we should have done was never involve her at all,” said Damian.

Marinette hugged her knees to her chest. Every word they’d said was like another tiny knife through her heart, but…

She looked at Tim. He’d been silent for a while. Surely, he would understand. They were friends, after all, had been even before the costumes and vigilantism. At least he had to have some sort of care for her --.

But then he sneered at her. “How did you fail at the one thing we needed you to do? Could you be any more useless?”

Her heart shattered.

“I’m… I’m not useless! I can still do things! I messed this one up… really bad… but that doesn’t mean I can’t still be useful!” She pushed herself to her feet and ran to him. She grabbed his arm. “Please! I promise, there’s still so much I can do! Please --!”

But he pulled his arm from her with a disgusted expression.

She watched the bats walk away and slowly fell to her knees.

“Please… I’m not useless… Please...”

She buried her face in her hands. Tears trickled between her fingers.

“Don’t leave…”

~

You’d think that, after the third or fourth time, having your friends leave you would hurt less. That you would be numb. But it only seemed to get worse and worse.

Every single time she saw their disgusted expressions, every time she listened to their hurtful words, every time she watched their retreating backs…

It cut deeper and deeper.

She wanted it to stop. Why wouldn’t it? Was there anything she could do to stop it? Or would she be doomed to be alone for the rest of her life?

The screaming restarted.

She sighed and opened her eyes to terrified elites.

Here we go again...

~

A hand gently shook her awake and she opened her eyes.

This was new. Maybe the fear toxin had decided to get creative this time.

Harley was leaning over her.

Marinette would have screamed if she could, but her throat was raw from crying.

Still, she sunk into the floor as much as she could.

“Hey, darlin’, it’s okay…” said Harley gently. She held out a hand and Marinette flinched. Then she realized that the woman was offering a glass of water.

She frowned. Was it poisoned? She didn’t think she had a deep-rooted fear of being poisoned, but there was no other reason the woman would be doing this for her.

Harley sighed quietly and took a sip, then offered it to Marinette again. “It’s not poisoned, darlin’.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly and slowly downed the water. It wasn’t enough. She felt like she could drink an entire pool’s worth of water and still be thirsty. But she wasn’t going to risk asking for it.

The woman smiled faintly and reached out a hand. Marinette flinched again, but the woman continued on to cup her cheek.

It took everything in her not to lean into the woman’s touch. When was the last time she’d had skin-to-skin contact…?

But there had to be some sort of catch.

“Why?” She whispered, her voice raspy.

“Because it’s been a long few days for you.”

Days? No wonder she felt so awful.

“Aren’t you mad? I was going to betray you…”

“I wasn’t mad, just disappointed,” she said, running her thumb along her cheekbone gently.

God, the little affection felt amazing…

But…

“I’m not going to kill Batman. I’m not of use to you.”

The woman withdrew her hand. Marinette felt like crying. Damn it, why did she have to go and ruin it like that? She could have pretended for longer. No wonder people left her so often. She wasn’t even smart enough to know when to lie...

“But you could be,” she promised.

Her head shot up to look at Harley, but she was already leaving.

The wall opened up and she paused before stepping through to give Marinette an unreadable smile.

“I’ll let you think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The door shut behind her and green gas began to flood the room.

~

Harley was back again. This time, she had given her a granola bar.

She scarfed it down. Her face reddened when she saw Harley looking at her and she wiped a few stray crumbs from her mouth.

The woman chuckled and reached out to get some crumbs she’d missed.

Marinette closed her eyes.

“I know you’re trying to ‘break’ me. I heard you tell Joker you would. It won’t work.”

Harley didn’t say anything, just allowed her to continue on.

“The whole ‘psychological torture’ thing isn’t that different from just torturing me physically. It takes longer and uses more resources. Don’t see why you bother.”

She sighed quietly. “There’s more to it than that, darlin’.”

Marinette frowned.

“Wow, weren’t you supposed to be smart?” She made a quiet ‘tsk’ sound and pulled her hand away. “Maybe you were right, you can’t kill Batman. I don’t know why we expected you to be able to beat the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ when you can’t even figure out what I’m doing…”

She knew it was just to get a rise out of her. She knew it was meant to annoy her. Didn’t mean it didn’t work.

“I’m not stupid!” She hissed.

The woman smirked a little. “Sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not!”

“Really?” Harley laughed. “It’s not like you can prove it stuck in here, and it’s not like you’re going to try and kill Batman. You said it yourself, you wouldn’t do that. So, what, are you going to do taxes?”

She jutted her chin out. “I could. Give me your tax papers. I’ll do them.”

The woman raised her eyebrows slightly and gave an unreadable smile, reaching out and ruffling her hair.

Marinette allowed herself to lean into her touch. Just a little.

She watched the woman leave and broke into a smile.

Not only was she going to be able to prove that she could be useful (she’d done taxes with her parents several times as a kid, she could do Harley’s no problem), she was going to do it without agreeing to kill Batman.

Also, since the fear toxin apparently wasn’t making an appearance this time, she was almost getting bored.

She was going to call the fact that she was about to do Harley’s taxes for her a win.

~

A few hours later, Harley stepped in and dropped the stack of papers in a half-awake Marinette’s lap.

She startled and looked around wildly to figure out what was going on. Then she relaxed when she saw the woman. She was handed a crayon and she raised her eyebrows.

“Only writing utensil you can’t kill anyone with,” explained Harley. She grinned at her. “You sure you can do this?”

“Of course I’m sure!”

Harley laughed and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Marinette’s forehead. “Good for you, darlin’.”

She beamed as she got to work.

~

Harley smiled faintly as she walked in a few days later. She offered some coffee and a few cookies. Marinette gave a whoop and took them from her, relishing in the taste a little. Was it at all nutritious? No. But it was a hell of a lot tastier than water and granola bars.

“How’s it coming along?”

“Done!” Said Marinette brightly, handing over the papers.

The woman raised her eyebrows as she flipped through it. Her eyes scanned them and she chuckled. “Wow, it’s all correct…”

“Oh, it’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal. She’d spent days poring over every number she wrote, overthinking even the most basic math problems. But she wasn’t going to say that. Harley looked so proud of her, surely she’d be more proud if she thought it wasn’t that hard.

And, to Marinette’s delight, the woman leaned down and wrapped her in a hug. “Nice job, darlin’! You’ve done so well!”

~

When the door opened again, Marinette beamed and looked up.

Only for her smile to drop.

Because Joker was with Harley.

She squeaked and attempted to fade into the wall behind her.

Harley made a quiet ‘tsk’ sound with her tongue at Marinette’s obvious horror. “Now, now, darlin’... be nice.”

Marinette hesitated, but she did carefully walk over to Joker and shake his outstretched hand. “Nice to see you,” she strained.

He looked a little bit impressed, though not that much.

Harley, however, openly smiled. She wrapped her arm around Marinette’s shoulders and pulled her into her side. “Thank you.”

She nodded ever so slightly.

~

They waved at his retreating back and Marinette waited until the door was closed behind him to speak: “I’m not going to kill Batman. Not for you, and especially not for him.”

The woman pulled away from her with a frown on her face.

She tried not to whine at the loss of touch. After all, it was her fault. She’d ruined the moment, once again, by admitting that she wasn’t going to be useful in the one way Harley so desperately wanted her to.

“Really?” She sighed and shook her head. “Maybe you and Joker were right. Maybe I’m putting too much work into this… I don’t know. I’ll let Scarecrow have you while I figure it out. Who knows how long that’ll take.”

Marinette squeaked. “You’re coming back in the meantime, right?”

“I don’t know.”

Nononononono she couldn’t be left alone again! Especially not with the fear gas! That was even worse!

But…

She couldn’t kill Batman either.

She couldn’t.

Right?

She watched Harley leave and fell to her knees. She could see the fear toxin slowly streaming in.

~

She found she had made up her mind.

The bats had yet to find her, despite it having been around a month from her approximations. If they’d really wanted her back, wouldn’t they have done so by now? Sure, it was made harder by the fact that they couldn’t track her, but weren’t they supposed to be the ‘World’s Greatest Detectives’ or something? They must not be trying.

And, besides…

When she’d broken the news, she’d been wrapped in a bone-crushing hug.

Marinette choked back a sob, though she didn’t know why. She hugged back, burying her face in Harley’s neck.

It felt so good to be held like this. Like she mattered. Like someone cared about her.

She would do anything to keep it that way.

A part 2 has been made