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#Cass is WAY too much for you to handle
masquenoire · 1 year
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✿  (they haven't necessarily interacted yet but ... anyways ...)
PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2
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“Whatcha gonna do, kill me? As if! Bats, birds - I don’t give a fuck. I’ll break your wings all the same.”
FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other
ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other
FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing (maybe in a very twisted au?)  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other
ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters (I guess?? Black Mask and the Batfam ain’t friends)  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other
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clockwayswrites · 10 days
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City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 14
masterpost
“You always make the best waffles Hood,” Steph said as she stuffed another syrupy piece into her mouth. She carefully kept her attention on Jay and Cass and not on Danny, who still seemed to be mostly hiding under his mop of black hair at the other side of the table.
“Don’t lie to me,” Jay said. “I know what diner you go to every chance that you get to have waffles. You love those more than mine.”
“No,” Steph whined, looking longingly at the waffle Jay was taking out of the iron right then. “That’s like asking someone to pick between apples and oranges! Or at least oranges and clementines! Diner waffles are working with a whole different set up then your waffles. Those are my favorite diner waffles but yours are my favorite at home waffles. Different things Hood, different things.”
Jay rolled his eyes and handled over the waffle.
Steph took it triumphantly and shot Danny a wink as he covered up his laughter.
“That’s your last one for right now,” Jay said with a pointed jab of his finger. “Danny gets the next one then Cass and then I get to eat some of the damn waffles I’m busy making.”
“Yes, Boss,” Steph chirped and gave a salute with her fork. “How are you liking them, Danny?”
Danny ducked his head back down again, but at least he answered, which was more then Steph had gotten so far. “They’re good. I like them with the fruit.”
“Yeah, that’s the big bad red wolf here trying to get us to be a little more healthy,” Steph said.
“Doesn’t work,” Cass said with that pleased little smile of hers. Steph always loved that smile.
“It sometimes works,” Steph corrected, even if Cass gave a little snort at that.
“They’re good. I missed fresh fruit,” Danny said as he carefully speared another blueberry on top of a precisely cut piece of waffle.
Hell, that made her want to go out and buy Danny a fruit basket. Maybe she would next time she came over. She needed to start earning some points with Danny and he deserved good things.
“Well, luckily Hood will keep you well in stock,” Steph said, making sure her voice stayed cheerful.
“Sure will,” Jason said. “And you can help yourself to the fruit that will be on the counter any time. Your stomach should be good enough now that you can eat pretty freely, just make sure to check with yourself if you’re full before getting seconds or something.”
“Look at Mama Red Hen, in his element,” Steph teased and reached out to catch the piece of fruit she knew would be tossed her way at that statement.
“It’s nice,” Danny mumbled down towards his plate. “Nice to have someone… looking out for things.”
Steph just about melted. “Yeah, it is. You can come to any of us for stuff too. Hood is a real mother hen and Nightwing is pure big sibling energy, but like, O is the best if you need finding things and Red is scarily good at puzzling out a problem. B.B. gives good cuddles and Signal is great when things get too crazy! Robin really protective but not nearly as much as the big Bat himself and Agent A always has what you need.”
Danny looked up at her from under his bangs, blue eyes wide.
“Have we given you a phone yet?” she continued, not knowing what to do with a young Bruce being able to give such good puppy dog eyes. “We need to get you a phone with all our numbers. I’ll have Red get on it, or O. Is O better?”
“Depends on the phone,” Cass pointed out.
Steph nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll ask the group chat I guess what we need for Danny.”
“I don’t, you… Red already gave me a tablet to use.”
“Have to look after you,” Cass explained in that gentle way of hers.
Danny’s gaze darted from Steph to Cass and over to Jason. When that look landed on Jason, it turned to worry in a way that confused Steph. Weren’t they supposed to be reassuring Danny of his continued place with them so that he would talk to the old man?
Jason set another waffle on Danny’s plate. “Told you it wouldn’t change anything.”
“They know?” Danny asked, his voice a rough whisper.
“Yeah, sorry,” Jason said. “With you bleeding like that I needed to explain things to them, not that I know that much. We haven’t exactly gotten back to that talk and there’s no rush to. The point of all this, kid, is that you’ve got us now. Whatever happens, you’ve got us and we’re going to make sure you can always get a hold of us.”
“But you don’t know,” Danny whispered. His grip on his fork was so tight that his knuckles were white and trembling.
Danny flinched when Cass reached out and touched his hand, but he let her unwind his grip from the fork and look the skin over for damage. When she found none, she wrapped it up in her own.
“Look, Danny,” Steph said. “We’re like the worst trio for this. You need like, Nightwing and Signal and O here for that reassuring ‘we’ve got your back’ sorta talk.”
Jason snorted and Steph flapped a hand at him.
“But the thing is,” she continued, “is that the Bats of Gotham have claimed you as theirs now and that means they protect you and care about you. It’s okay whatever we don’t know cause trust me, we have all fucked up pretty big at times, but we’re still Bats and everyone still has our backs. So, I get that we might have some convos ahead of us that are scary for you, talking sucks, but that’s not going to change shit.”
“But you’re, aren’t you…. I’ve read about you on the tablet. Lots think Bruce Wayne funds you. What if he tells me to get out?”
Jason scoffed loudly. “Yeah, no, he doesn’t control us like that.”
“He is nice,” Cass said, “bad at emotions, but nice. He will like you too.”
Danny rubbed his free hand over his eyes. “How can you know?”
“Because you are you,” Cass said simply. From here it sounded like an iron clad fact.
Danny just sniffled.
“Come on, waffles before they get cold,” Jason ordered.
Steph figured maybe they should talk about things more, but they really weren’t the group to do talking, at least not about anything important. She’d let Dick know Danny needed the reassurance though for when he came to the apartment. Even as good as Dick was at playing big brother, Steph didn’t really think that Danny would feel alright until he met Bruce. Somehow, they’d have to convince him that it was time.
---
AN: And we are back by vote with the first part of the next chapter! Sorry for the long delay, but life really was kicking me while I was down. And now I have a cold(?) so you know, expect typos. But Steph finally makes a showing! That means the horde of bat siblings have all met Danny. I wonder what's coming up next...?
Stay delightful, darlings!
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alyakthedorklord · 10 months
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Bat Poker Face Training
Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, and Jason all crammed into someones room, with a kidnapped Duke sitting awkwardly with them, kinda scared.
Duke: “Uh… what’s going on?”
Steph, completely blank faced and standing ominously in the corner: “It has come to our attention that you require training.”
Duke: “Bruce is already teaching me really well-“
Jason, also blank faced: “That’s bat training. This is robin training.”
Cass, carefully but without a single emotion: “Sibling training.”
Dick, face just as blank as all his other siblings: “It’s much more fun.”
Duke, freaked out by the empty faces: “Am I being hazed?”
Jason: “Eh, maybe. Scared?
Tim, not giving Duke a second to reply: “Yes, he is. It’s written all over his face. And while its okay to be scared, sometimes hiding your true emotions in the field is a matter of life, death, and secret identities.”
Dick: “You’re going to be flustered. Humiliated. Terrified. Angry. Relieved. Your vigilante ID dragged through the mud in front of you as a civilian. Someone worried about your civilian ID and you need to keep them away.“
Tim: “Not just as a Bat, but a Wayne. Some dinosaur at a gala is going to say the most out of pocket thing you’ve ever heard in your life and you’ve just got to stand there.”
Duke: “So that’s the reason you’re doing the creepy thing?”
Steph: “Yes Duke. You need to have a poker face that Even Superman can’t break. That even a Fifth-dimensional Imp can’t crack! And that is the purpose of our training tonight!”
Duke, getting the program now: “Okay. I’m ready.”
Jason, allowing a creepy grin to slide over his face: “Don’t be so sure. Because what we are about to show you… it has broken Batman.”
Dick: “Damian is too innocent to see it, which is why he isn’t here.”
Steph: “If you can handle this, you can handle anything.”
Tim, tapping on his computer, chanting under his breath: “the horrors, the horrors, the horrors…”
Duke, terrified of what Tim is about to pull up, on the edge of his seat wondering what on earth can shake the Bat of Gotham, what the family considers too awful for thier arguably LEAST innocent member to see, what vile images he’s about to be shown…
Tap. The screen lights up white.
Duke: “No.”
Jason, grin widening: “We’ll be reading this aloud, for your entertainment.”
Duke, trembling and inching towards the door: “No.”
Steph, vice grip on Duke’s arm: “There’s no escaping it, Signal. This is your mission- to stay completely pokerfaced through Real Person Fanfiction of us- the Batfamily. And co, of course.”
Duke, sobbing: “Please, why… why would you do this to yourselves… oh god, is that… is that… is that Kate with Bruce? She’s a lesbian! And his cousin!”
Steph: “They don’t know that, Duke. They know nothing. And the depths of a human imagination is comparable to the depths of the ocean… there’s some weird shit down there.”
Tim, without a single emotion on his face, least of all mercy: “I had to sit through Young Justice fawning over Dick and Bruce. Do you know what they said? About my own father figure? Right in front of my salad? I was lucky I was wearing a mask. I cried, and I cried in silence. They knew NOTHING, because I showed nothing. This is what you must achieve.”
Jason: “I’ve had to listen to criminals talk about what they’d do to the ‘Prince of Gotham’ and not twitch. I’ve had to listen to both goons and civilians play fuck marry kill with our vigilante identities and not move a muscle. I know this feels like overkill, but trust me, it’s not.”
Dick: “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it mostly PG. Tim? Begin with the wildly out of character and aggressively heteronormative Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman love triangle. Then maybe we’ll work our way up to slash readers and…” shudders in horror, “…batcest.”
Duke: “NOOOOOOOO!!!”
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serpentandlily · 8 months
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Untouchable IV - Azriel x Reader
Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst
a/n: ahhh guys I literally love all of you so much. Thanks for all the love and support on this story!! Hope you enjoy this one just as much!
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part IV
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You stared at yourself in the mirror, quite happy with that way you looked. You were getting ready to make a trip to Hewn City with the rest of the Inner Circle, so you could be announced as their new Overseer. Already donning your mask, a mask you wore just as well as your brother could. You were, after all, raised by the same cruel, unflinching male. After your father died, Rhys had made sure to continue teaching you how to handle the unsavory parts of the Night Court as best he could. 
So you had put on a dress that demanded attention. It was Night Court black, of course, with a halter top bodice that connected to a high neck collar. Starting from just below your breasts, the dress was cut into two panels to cover your front and back, laced together with a black ribbon on the sides. It clung to your curves and showed off more skin than you usually did. 
The entire side of your legs, your hip bone and waist, all exposed and accentuated by the dress. Some kohl liner brought your star-flecked, violet eyes to life. Your hair was curled and spilled down your back freely. You felt beautiful. Devastatingly beautiful. The Princess of Night. 
You finished the look with the diadem your brother had given you. It was made of Illyrian metal with dark red jewels decorating the intricately twisted vines. It was perfect for the Court of Nightmares. 
As you made your way down the stairs, you could already feel the disapproving stare of your brother. Only him and Cassian were waiting in the foyer. Cass was in his Illyrian leathers and your brother was wearing a finely tailored black coat and pants with his own crown on his head. 
“Nice try, dove,” Rhys chided. “Go back upstairs and change into the dress I had Nuala lay out for you this morning.” 
You crossed your arms over your chest. “No. I bought this one specifically for today and I’m going to wear it.”
“No, you’re not.” Cass snorted as Rhys tried to assert his dominance. “Go change. Now.” 
“No. I’m wearing this. You can’t make me change my mind.”
“Oh, I can make you,” your brother sneered. He could, you supposed, use his High Lord voice to order you to change. And then you literally wouldn’t be able to refuse.
Before he could though, you shouted for his mate. “Feyre!”
Your High Lady and sister-in-law walked into the room with a baby Nyx on her hip. She was wearing a beautiful, glimmering black dress that fell in a deep v to her navel. Slits on both sides of the skirt exposing her legs and a twin crown to the one Rhys was wearing sat on her head. Nyx was also dressed in black with a tiny version of their crown on his own head. The sight of them both was too adorable. 
“What’s going on out here?” Feyre asked, sliding up to Rhys’s side. He strung an arm around her, pulling her and his son close. 
You gave your brother a cheeky grin. “Your mate wants me to go change because he’s a big, overprotective, insufferable bat.” 
Your brother glared at you as Feyre smacked his arm. “Leave your sister alone, Rhys. She can wear whatever she wants.” 
The two of you shared a smile as Rhys let out a sigh of annoyance. “You know, I thought having a mate meant always having someone on your side. I would’ve never brought you here if I knew you’d end up conspiring with my sister against me all the time.” 
“You're lucky you ended up with such a smart, beautiful mate that can check you before you embarrass yourself, Rhysie,” you laughed as Feyre stuck her tongue out at him. Rhys scoffed at both of you as you giggled with each other at his reaction. 
“What are you guys giggling about out here?” Mor and Nesta walked into the room, both dressed as finely as everyone else. 
Feyre started to answer Mor but your attention drifted as Azriel appeared in the shadow of the hallway, striding towards the group. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers like Cass, all seven of his cobalt siphons on display. Azriel always looked intimidating, but even more so today as his leathers clung to his muscles and highlighted the lethality of his stone-cut face.  
His eyes immediately locked onto yours and widened as he took you in. His gaze dipped down and roamed your entire body and when he looked back up, his eyes were filled with hunger and heat, before he blinked and his cold mask was back on. You gave him no reaction, merely glancing away from him as if his presence had no effect on you. But the butterflies in your stomach begged otherwise. 
Elain came walking down the stairs at the same time, dressed in black yet way more modestly than the rest of you. You couldn’t help but notice how out of place she looked.
“You’re coming?” Nesta asked, peering at Elain in surprise. “I thought Hewn City was far too much for you delicate sensibilities.” 
Mor snorted as Elain scowled at her sister. “I’m only coming to show my support for y/n.”
She smiled at you and you gave her a grateful nod. Even if you were jealous of her for winning over the shadowsinger, you’d never blame her for him being an asshole. You also didn’t want Azriel to know you were bothered about it. You might not be as prideful as your brother was, but you’d rather suffer in complete silence than let anyone think they’ve made you feel insecure. Perhaps it was a family trait.  
“I’ve had your stuff, and Azriel’s, sent over to the Moonstone Palace already,” Rhys said as everyone congregated. “So you can spend the rest of the week getting situated with your new role as planned.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “But I already asked Cass to be my escort and he agreed–”
“Cassian forgot he has other duties that I already assigned to him this week.” 
Cassian gave you a sheepish look and you let out a huff. “What about Balthazar?”
Balthazar was the Illyrian warrior who had helped Nesta and Emerie during the Blood Rite. He now worked closely with training the Illyrian females and helping them merge with the Valkyries. He was a good male and an excellent warrior—but more importantly, he wasn’t Azriel. 
You could feel Azriel’s stare as you kept your focus on your brother. He waved a dismissive hand. “Azriel’s already agreed and I’d rather him guard over my sister than some untested Illyrian.” 
Your hands clenched, annoyed but you nodded, not wanting your brother to get suspicious. With that, your brother winnowed the group to the gates leading into the Court of Nightmares. You took your place behind Feyre and Rhysand and Azriel slid into the space next to you as your designated guard, apparently. You managed to keep your stare straight forward as you began to walk towards the throne room.
Azriel took a step closer to you, his shadows cascading around your ankles. “Do you hate my presence so much now that you’d rather some random brute take my place as your guardian?” he muttered under his breath.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re the one who told me to stay away from you. I’m only doing as you asked. And Balthazar is not some random brute. He is a friend.” 
“Since when?” he hissed.
“Not that it's any of your business, but I had been helping with the training of the Illyrian females before I left for the continent. Balthazar is another one of the trainers.” 
Azriel said nothing else as your group finally entered the throne room. You could feel the stares of all the fae in the room, likely wondering why the High Lord had called for a party. You followed Rhys and Feyre to the dais, where Azriel held out a gloved hand to help you up the steps. You grabbed it, not wanting to embarrass him in front of a bunch of vultures who already thought of him as less than, and took your place behind Rhys’s throne. 
You and Feyre were the two people in your brother’s life that he had vowed would never have to bow to anyone. And he took that quite seriously. So while everyone else was forced to lower themselves to the ground, you stood at his side. 
You glanced at the crowd of people in the throne room. Your eyes widened as you noticed Eris next to Keir. You hadn’t been expecting him.
“You can rise now,” Feyre said after leaving them on the floor for a few moments. 
And then it was time for the big announcement. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The party was in full swing, music playing, faeries dancing. Despite their despise for their High Lord, the fae down here took any excuse to get up to some debauchery. You still remained at the dais next to your brother, Azriel now a step behind you, like the guardian he was supposed to be. 
Cassian stood on the other side of the dais by Feyre with Nesta, both ready to protect her and baby Nyx should they have to. Mor had claimed a table where she and Elain now sat, the latter looking uncomfortable as she peered around at the party taking place. 
Keir stood before Rhys and Feyre, a forced look of respect on his face. It seemed to almost pain him and you had to hide your grin. 
“My Lord, if I may ask, why have you decided to pass along the role of Overseer to someone as young and unpracticed as your sister?” Keir asked, his voice full of condescension. “And to do so without any input from me. It seems like an insult to us in this court—to not have one of our own be a representation for Hewn City.” 
“I think you forget yourself, Keir,” Rhys sneered. “Me and your High Lady make every decision for this court and we certainly don’t require your input nor your opinions. You will show my sister respect. She is more than capable of what her title requires of her.” 
“Can you blame me, my Lord, for having my doubts? Your sister has never dealt with court politics. It might be naive to place her in such a position.” 
You took a step forward, standing tall as you looked down at your uncle. “You seem to forget, uncle, that I was the one who ran the Night Court during my brother’s absence for fifty years. You also seem to forget that your daughter’s mercy is the only reason you are still standing here today. Watch your mouth or perhaps you will find that I do not share the same leniency towards you as she does.” 
Keir’s face twisted into an ugly scowl, but he did the smart thing by keeping his mouth shut. Though his eyes flickered towards the shadowsinger over your shoulder and a bit of fear flashed through him. Luckily, he didn’t hold your attention for long as a redhead suddenly appeared in front of you, at the bottom of the platform’s steps. 
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Eris purred, holding out his hand to you. His eyes roamed down the length of your body before they met yours. Your brother’s hands tightened on his throne’s arm rests but one look from Feyre kept his mouth shut. 
You placed your hand in his, blushing slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Would you allow me the honor of being your first dance tonight, Princess?”
Azriel growled in warning from behind you but you ignored him, instead looking towards your brother. He gave you a slight dip of the head as permission to leave your post, so you let Eris help you down the steps. 
Eris escorted you to the dance floor just as a new song began. You let Eris begin to lead you through the dance, one hand in his and the other one on his shoulder, as his free arm looped around your waist.
“It is a surprise to see Rhysand finally letting his coveted little bird out of her cage,” Eris whispered into your ear as he twirled you around the dance floor, a devilish smirk on his face.
“He can be persuaded,” you whispered back with a feline smile of your own.
“Does that have anything to do with a shadowsinger who looks like he wants to kill me more than usual?”
As he spun you around, you couldn’t help but glance at Azriel. He had moved from his post closer to the dance floor, to keep you and Eris in his line of sight.
His eyes were narrowed, his shadows spiraling around him like snakes ready to strike, as he watched you dance with Eris. You wanted to roll your eyes at his behavior. He didn’t get to be a complete asshole to you and then act all protective. 
“It has nothing to do with the shadowsinger,” you answered, gasping as Eris yanked you closer just in time to get out of the way of another couple drunkenly dancing. “It was all my negotiating that got me my new title. So I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you now?” 
“It seems so, my Lady,” Eris crooned.
His amber eyes flashed to something over your shoulder and based on the smirk that spread on his face, that something was probably a certain shadowsinger. He met your gaze again, mischief sparkling on his face. 
“In fact, there is something I’ve been meaning to discuss with Mor in private, but I guess now that would be you, wouldn't it?” 
You nodded, peering around and noting Rhys and Feyre distracted by a line of couriers vying for their attention. Keir was off in a dark corner conversing with a male you recognized as Lord Thanatos. You looked back at Eris and he quirked an eyebrow. “It appears most everyone has their hands occupied right now. Shall we seek somewhere private after this?” 
Eris leaned down, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “I’d like that very much, Princess.” 
You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes as he stood back up with a charming grin on his face. “You are as much of a flirt as your brother is,” you chided, waiting for the song to end so you could make your exit without drawing attention. 
“Don’t tell me you’re referring to little Lucien? Doesn’t he have a mate he's still pining after?” 
As you were spun again, you glanced back at Azriel, whose arms were crossed as he continued to glare in your direction. Good, you were glad he was upset. 
“Not lately,” you answered. It was true; Lucien rarely came around if Elain was present. He seemed to have given up on trying to win her attention for the time being. Perhaps he had also noticed the growing interest between her and Azriel. 
“Well I say good for him,” Eris chuckled. “A Vanserra has never had to beg a female for her heart. They merely present it to us on a platter.” 
“You are so full of it, Eris.” 
The music finally lulled to a stop and Eris let go of you, holding out his arm instead. “Allow me to prove it to you, Princess.”
You slipped a hand into the crevice of his elbow as you dipped out of the throne room before anyone could notice. Just as you had stepped into the corridor, a cold hand wrapped around your upper arm, halting the both of you. You already knew who it was before you turned around.
Azriel was seething as he glanced between the two of you. “You aren’t supposed to go anywhere without an escort, y/n. You know that.” 
You glanced at him as if he were inconveniencing you, though you knew he had followed. “I have one,” you replied, nodding your head towards Eris, who gave the shadowsinger a cunning smirk. 
“He doesn’t count,” Azriel hissed.
“Fine, then I guess it’s a good thing you’re here,” you shrugged before turning back around and leading Eris down the hallway. “Come, I know a private place we can go to.” 
You chatted with Eris as you walked, completely ignoring the angry bat that followed one step behind. Azriel was really starting to confuse you further. What the hell was he so upset about when he made his choice in Elain so clear? 
You took them down a dark, narrowed hall that looked like it was a dead end but a door appeared as you approached. It was just another secret meeting room. There were many in this court and you were familiar with most. You let Eris enter first and stood in the threshold blocking Azriel’s way. 
“Thank you, Azriel,” you said politely. “But I have it from here.” 
Azriel looked at you and then over your shoulder at Eris, his eyes full of icy rage. “Your brother has ordered me to stay with you at all times, y/n. Especially in the case of being around someone who may wish you harm.”
Eris snorted and you glanced back at him. “Hm Eris, do you plan on harming me?” 
“I was hoping to do quite the opposite, Princess.” His voice was full of wicked promise. 
Azriel growled lowly and the noise sent a shiver down your spine that you fought to cover up. “See, there’s no need for you here,” you chimed and then before he could even take a step forward, you slammed the door in his face and locked it. You quickly threw up a ward knowing he’d still try to spy with his shadows. 
Eris chuckled as he sat down on one of the plush couches. You took a seat on the one opposite, conjuring up a tray with two empty glasses and a bottle of expensive liquor on the coffee table between you. 
“So, what is it you wanted to discuss?” you asked as you poured the both of you a glass.
“Oh, there is nothing of importance for us to discuss. I just quite enjoy getting a rise out of the shadowsinger and for some reason, he seems to be particularly bothered with my proximity to you.” Eris crossed his legs and threw his arm around the back of the couch. The perfect picture of a male proud of himself. “Thank you for unintentionally helping me in my quest. I’m sure your shadowsinger thinks I’m trying to seduce you in here.”
“Are you serious?” you scoffed. “You pulled me from enjoying my own party just to make Azriel upset?”
“Oh please, we both know no one enjoys the parties down here.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “And it wasn’t the only reason. It's not very often that Rhys lets his little sister be in the presence of those he considered unsavory. Perhaps I am interested in your company as well.” 
“Well you’ve got my full, undivided attention now,” you replied, sitting back against the couch with your glass in your hand. 
Eris grabbed his glass as well, twirling it in his hand as he studied you. “So, tell me, why is it that the shadowsinger is pacing back and forth in front of the door, cursing me under his breath, as we speak?” 
“He’s an overprotective, Illyrian bat. Just like my brother and Cassian,” you said in dismissal. 
“Hm, I’m not quite sure that’s the only reason.”
“You seem to have an obsession with Azriel, Eris. Do you want me to put in a good word for you?” You gave him a brazen smile. 
“Alright, little bird, I’ll drop it. I’m far more interested in the beautiful female sitting in front of me as it is.” You hated that your cheeks turned pink at his words. Eris was handsome with his red hair and amber eyes. Even his scent of cinnamon and vetiver was enticing. But he just wasn’t Azriel. “Will you indulge me in a game of chess as we chat?”
Glad to move on from the subject, you did just that. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Alright, that’s enough—”
You were nearly three rounds deep in a game of chess when the door burst open and Azriel came stalking inside. You jumped a bit at the intrusion as Eris’s focus stayed on the chessboard like he had anticipated this. 
You looked up at the shadowsinger who was panting, his hair in disarray. His eyes widened as he took in the casual scene of you and Eris playing a game of chess. You raised an eyebrow at him but he only continued to glower at Eris. 
“Enough of what, shadowsinger?” Eris asked nonchalantly as he moved one of his chess pieces. 
“Enough of whatever the fuck you guys are doing,” Azriel huffed before looking at you with his arms crossed. “You’re needed back in the throne room. Now.” 
You very much doubted that, but decided to play along. You were losing this game anyways. You set your glass down on the table and stood, straightening out your gown. “Apologies, Eris, but apparently, duty calls.” 
Eris stood as well, gathering his coat that he had discarded at one point. “I should be getting back before my father grows suspicious anyways. I would very much like to do this again, Princess, if you’ll have me,” he said, grasping your hand and pressing a kiss to it like he did before. 
You gave him a slight dip of the head. “You know where to find me.”
He said his goodbyes, not without throwing a smirk in Azriel’s direction, before he disappeared, leaving only some crackling embers in his wake. You went to leave the room but Azriel reached an arm over your head and shut the door right in your face. You let out a disgruntled noise and turned around to Azriel towering over you, his gaze darkened.
“I thought I was needed in the throne room,” you said, sarcastically. 
He ignored you, keeping one hand on the door to keep it closed as he watched you. “So, you’re into Eris now? He’s a dangerous male, y/n.” 
“I think I can decide that for myself,” you snapped. “Maybe I am interested in him. What does it matter to you?”
He took a step closer, boxing you in against the door much like he had done that night. “I already told you it matters to me.” 
“You also told me to stay away from you. So why did you agree to be my guard for the next week? Why the fuck are you here?”
“Because someone has to watch over you! Especially when you decide to go strutting around in a dress like this,” he growled. “Tell me something, Princess, just who exactly did you have in mind when you put this on?”
His gloved hand trailed up the side of your thigh, to where the dress was held together with ribbon. You hated how much your skin tingled at his touch, hated the butterflies that arose in your stomach at his heated stare. Hating how your heart picked up its pace.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “If you’re implying that it was you I was thinking of, Azriel, then I’d say you think far too highly of yourself.”
“Your body says otherwise,” he growled, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 
You put both your hands on his chest and pushed him away. “No, no! You don’t get to do this, Azriel! You came to me. You came to my balcony, almost kissed me, and then disappeared for days! And then the next time I saw you, you had your tongue down Elain’s throat before running off to go fuck eachother.” 
“I didn’t fuck Elain,” he grunted. “I’ve never fucked Elain.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” 
“No…I don’t know—fuck!” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. 
“I did as you said. I left you alone like you wanted,” you spat at him. “You cannot come back to me and cast any sort of judgment on who I wish to spend my time with. You can’t come to me and act like you want me now. You had your chance and you were the one who walked away. So why won’t you just leave me alone?” 
You said the words but your heart was screaming the opposite. All you wanted was to grab him, to kiss him, to continue where you guys had left off that night. You can tell in the way he stared at you that he wanted the same. But you deserved better than that—better than this. 
“Because I can’t. I can’t stay away from you,” Azriel said. He looked unhinged, desperate. As if your mere presence caused him such conflict. His eyes were pleading you for something, but you had no idea what he even wanted. He was so hot and cold. 
So you squared your shoulders and straightened the crown on your head. 
“Well, that's your problem not mine,” you said before finally leaving the room.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Gods, the last few days had been draining. Dealing with Keir was a headache without having to also be around the brooding shadowsinger. You two hadn’t spoken to each other besides small words in passing and you tried to ignore his heavy gaze most of the time. The rest of your family had returned to Velaris after the party, leaving just you two to occupy the Moonstone Palace. Thankfully it was a rather big place which made it easier to avoid Azriel. 
But you still had half a week left with him here. 
You sank yourself further down in the bathtub, twisting your wine glass in your hand. You had a lot to think about. Your brother was crafting a response to Prince Cedric and needed your input of whether you wished to get to know him better, if you felt anything towards him. Eris had also sent you a letter today. Apparently this time he actually did have something of importance to share with you, but had also admitted to wishing to see you again. 
Perhaps it was time to move on from Azriel. Prince Cedric was handsome and kind, with his wavy blonde hair and cerulean eyes. But he lived on the continent, would eventually rule there, and you didn’t know if you could live so far away from your brother, nephew and soon to be niece. 
And then there was Eris. All the Vanserra males were annoyingly attractive and one day soon, he’d be the High Lord of Autumn. But he was complex. Half the time you didn’t even know which mask was his real personality. Was he really a kind male underneath that cruel armor he wore? Not to mention his past with your cousin.
You sighed and drank the rest of your wine before getting out of the bath. You pulled on your silk nightgown, the Palace charmed too warm to wear anything else to sleep, and dried your hair with some magic. It was late and you figured it was safe enough now to wonder about—figuring Azriel was asleep or at the very least, in his own bed chambers. 
You made your way down the vast corridors until you ended up right in front of the double doors leading into the study. Your brain was restless right now, but maybe some reading would help. You pushed the doors open and immediately wanted to curse the Mother. Of course you would jinx yourself. Of course the shadowsinger would be in the study already. 
Azriel looked up as the doors opened, his eyes finding yours. He looked…rough. His hair was in disarray, his eyes shadowed, and an almost empty bottle of whiskey sat on the small table in front of the armchair he was sitting in. You stood there for a moment, both staring at each other, until the doors slamming closed behind you made you jump. 
You let out a sigh and turned around, ready to leave, when his voice stopped you. “Don’t…Don’t leave. Please.” 
The desperation in his voice made you pause and you studied the intricate doors in front of you. You should leave. You absolutely should walk through those doors and go back to your private bed chambers. But…But this tension between the two of you was a dark cloud lingering over you. You had never had a contentious relationship with anyone in the Inner Circle. 
So you stayed, turning around and letting out a gasp as you came face to face with Azriel. You hadn’t even heard him move, hadn’t heard him even get up. You placed a hand over your heart and took a step back, putting more distance between the two of you.
He reached for you but you took another step back, sniffing the air. “You’re drunk, Az.”
“I know,” he said, darkly. “But I can’t take this shit anymore. I can’t do anything when I know how upset you are with me. I hate it, y/n. I hate that I’ve hurt you.” 
You crossed your arms over your chest, upset. How could he be taking this so poorly when he was the one who caused all of this? You said nothing, just stared at him expectantly.  
“Princess…” he trailed off, staring down at you with melancholy eyes. “I…Can we please just forget about the past week? I can’t stand you being upset with me. Can we just…go back to how things used to be—before all of this?”
“How?” you breathed out. “How am I just supposed to forget?” 
How could you forget the hurt he had caused you…how could you erase the image of him and Elain stumbling into the River House in a heat of passion…by the cauldron, how could you forget about the way he treated you at training…and the night on the balcony afterwards. How?
“I don’t know,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. He looked devastating in the dim faelights of the study, surrounded by marble bookcases and the open walls looking out towards the mountains. Even as dishelved as he was. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you. I fucked up. I should’ve never come to you that night…I should’ve never touched you.” 
Hurt flashed across your face. Had he really not wanted you that night? Had you completely misinterpreted his actions? Was he about to finally tell you he didn’t want you—that he wanted Elain and was sorry for leading you on? You didn’t know if your heart could take it…
“No, don’t…” Azriel said, seeming to notice where your thoughts had turned. “I don’t mean it like that, princess.” He reached a hand forward, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “I did want you…I still do. But you have to understand, we can’t. This…us…it can never happen.”
“Why?” you choked out. He didn’t make any sense. If you wanted him, and he wanted you, then what the hell was stopping either of you? Was he scared of how your brother might react? If that was the case then he could just say so. You could deal with Rhys.
His hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin. You shouldn’t let him touch you. Shouldn’t even be so close to him. But Gods, your heart ached for his touch.
“Because,” he started, then faltered for a moment. “Because it just can’t, princess. I’m sorry.” 
You pushed his hand away from you. “You owe me more than that, Azriel! You owe me a godsdamn explanation. Why? Why can’t it happen? Because of Elain–”
“No,” he growled. “It has nothing to do with Elain. I don’t even care about Elain. I just want you—”
“I don’t think you know what you want, Azriel,” you scoffed. “You can’t stand here and say you don’t want Elain after what I witnessed between you two. I saw you, you know, in the kitchens that night. I saw you together before I even went to the continent. So don’t tell me you don’t want her, don’t care for her!” 
“It’s the truth,” he pleaded. “I swear to the Gods themselves. I don’t want Elain. I have never wanted Elain. I have never even wanted Mor. All I’ve ever wanted was you. You and only you.”
“You’re not making any sense,” you cried. “How can you even say that? I watched you pine after Mor for years! And now everything with Elain—”
“I need you to understand, princess. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to. But we cannot happen. I saw the way you looked at me and Gods, I wanted nothing other than to tell you how I felt. But you…I can never have you. So I pretended to pine after Mor for years hoping you’d move on. And then she came out to all of us, told us she preferred females, so I had to find someone else—”
“You expect me to believe that this whole time you’ve been pretending to like other girls? Mor, maybe I can believe because you never pursued her. But Elain? Azriel, I stumbled upon you guys twice! It certainly didn’t look like you were pretending.”  
“Because that night in the kitchens I was trying to make myself want her. Make myself want anyone other than you. Because I can’t have you, princess, don’t you get it! It’s fucking agony to crave you the way I do and not be able to do anything about it. So I tried, Gods, I tried to move on. But it didn’t work. We never got past what you saw. I couldn’t force myself to want her because I don’t. I don’t want anyone other than you.” 
“And what about the second time? Were you just pretending then, as well?” 
“I knew you were home that night. I had been tracking you the whole day with my shadows. After what happened between us on the balcony, I was scared you’d try to act on your feelings for me. So I purposefully sought out Elain. Purposefully led her back when I knew you’d be there to catch us. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I hurt you but I needed you to move on. Even if it meant you’d hate me.”
“I-I don’t understand,” you stuttered. “If you want me and I want you, then what’s stopping us, Azriel? Why do you keep saying you can’t have me? Is it because of my brother? Do you think he wouldn’t approve—wouldn’t think you deserving? Because you are, Az. I love—”
Azriel surged forward and pressed you against the door with a hand around your mouth, wings snapped out to their full length. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, your chest heaving.
“Don’t,” he snarled. “Don’t say it. Don’t. I won’t be able to control myself and this will all be for nothing. This will all end horribly.” 
When you made no move to say anything else, his hand slowly dropped from your mouth. You felt tears line your eyes. You felt frustrated, mad, upset. You couldn’t wrap your head around what he was trying to tell you. 
“At least tell me why, Azriel. Don’t you think I deserve that? You said you’re sorry for hurting me but can’t you see how much you’re hurting me by doing this? It hurts more to know you want me the way I want you but not enough to be with me.”
Azriel let out a groan and sank to his knees in front of you, bowing his head. “You have no idea how much I want you, princess. No idea. It is you who is in my head every single second of every single day. It is you I think about as I fall asleep and you I think about the moment I awake. I would crawl through hell on my knees just to be able to kiss you, to hold you, to love you. But I can’t….I can’t, y/n.” 
You held your breath, a few tears leaking from your eyes. This was everything you’d ever wanted. These were words he had only ever told you in your dreams. And here he was, finally saying them for real. But in the same breath, telling you that this, that you and him, would never, ever happen.
“Why?” you whispered. “Why?”
But Azriel said nothing further. Just knelt on his knees in front of you like he was praying to the Gods, his head bowed between his shoulders, his wings drooping against the floor. You waited for him to say anything, anything that might help you understand. But nothing…nothing ever came from his mouth.
You loosened a breath, your heart heavy in your chest and left.
Left Azriel on his knees in that room, with the words he said hanging over him like a death sentence.  
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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*If you don't see your username and you asked to be tagged, it's bc it won't let me for some dumb reason.
*Hope you guys don't hate me too much!! We'll get some more Az POV soon and maybe next part we'll finally get some answersss ;)
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damianwaynerocks · 4 months
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the funniest thing about the batfamily is that they're so smart but they all have zero introspection skills.
the batfamily is smart. so smart. and they deal with the mentally ill population all the time. and most of the time they treat them good! they help them!
i find it absolutely impossible that bruce isn't educated on psychology. there's no way he isn't. no way he hasn't studied psychology, whether it was to understand the joker or any other villains, whether it was to learn how to instill fear, practice for going undercover, hostage negotiation, how to tell the difference between mental health issues and just violent criminals (because he wouldn't know which ones he could talk sense into without understanding why they were doing it), whether it was to learn better methods of interrogation, or even just an interest in how the brain works.
and i guarantee most of the other batkids are too. bruce had to have taught them that so they could learn how to go undercover or how to tell whenever violence is necessary or if you can just talk them down.
dick has a law degree, which means he had to do undergrad. i think it's insane to think that he wouldn't have taken a psychology class. he also was able to understand damian and how to handle him, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he wasn't aware of how his upbringing would've shaped his neural pathways.
tim has a genius level iq. no way he doesn't understand how the brain works. also, he was able to tell that bruce was in a terrible mental state just by observing him as batman, where bruce does everything in his power to hide his emotions. he's also, several times, shown to be one of the only if the not the only batfamily member to understand why jason acts the way he does.
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damian likely isn't terribly empathetic to mental health issues. probably a little more now, but not very. but like. he might not be empathetic to it but there's no way he doesn't understand how it works. how the frontal lobe works. how the amygdala works. how to manipulate someone.
stephanie was in college, and just like i said with dick, i find it hard to believe she wouldn't have taken a psychology class.
cass is cass. enough said.
also!! they all have a pretty good relationship with leslia thompkins!! a psychologist!!
all this to say: how on God's green earth do none of them realize they need therapy.
and like i get why. bruce has suppressed his emotions so much that he genuinely think he's fine. dick is too focused on being a support for everyone to worry about himself. jason and stephanie push it all down. cass, and this is not a diss because i love her, would realistically be very emotionally stunted. damian wasn't raised to be empathetic to the mentally ill and even if he was, he's 15. his frontal lobe is so not developed. plus the trauma they've all endured? the training they've had from bruce, who probably wasn't that concerned about teaching them self care and most definitely taught them to put their emotions aside. so like i get it. but also.
they know all this stuff and??? don't for a single second (except for tim that one time) be like "hmmm i could benefit from CBT and EMDR"
except duke.
how is duke the only one who's like "yeah. you guys aren't okay." duke knows. he tries to reason with them and has several times been like "you guys are crazy. why are you chill with this."
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which is all to say. i'm convinced that at some point duke is going to try to sit them all down and be like "you guys need therapy. please go to therapy. I'm begging you."
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thebirdsandthebats · 1 year
Text
Tim’s family thinks he can cook really well.
He didn’t mean for this to go so far. It had been a misunderstanding by a well-meaning Dick the last time he was in Gotham and stopped by the boat to visit. Tim had reheated some leftovers in his fridge from the night before, and Dick’s eyes lit up the moment Tim set the plates down.
“Wow, that looks amazing,” he’d commented. Tim, exhausted from a long patrol and preoccupied with dread of having to wake up early, had merely agreed. Of course Bernard’s cooking looked amazing. He was almost as big on presentation as he was on flavor.
“Yeah. Tastes even better.”
What he didn’t realize was that Dick had assumed he made the food. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Dick loved to brag on his siblings. The next week, Stephanie stopped by unannounced to visit.
“I can’t believe how much you like it here. In a good way, obviously,” she’d grinned while Tim heated up some of the french onion soup that his boyfriend had made him. Tim laughed as he used a terry cloth to handle the hot bowl, placing it down in front of Steph.
He sat next to her with his own bowl. The random visits were odd. But on the bright side, the need to be a good host was kind of forcing him to eat on a more normal schedule. Two birds, one stone he guessed.
“Yeah. I like the marina a lot,” he blew lightly on his spoonful, the soup still steaming hot. “The atmosphere is so different from anywhere I’ve lived. I think being around the marina folk has been good for me—”
“Ohmygod.”
Tim looked over, startled by the outburst. Steph was staring at her soup with wide eyes. Her hand covered her mouth. Tim’s brows drew close together in confusion. “Are you okay? Did you burn your tongue?”
Steph grabbed his shoulder in a firm grip. “You’ve been holding out on us!” She accused.
“Wh—”
“You’ve been sticking to easy foods when you cook at the manor, but here you have the good stuff!” Tim frowned at her words. The realization was beginning to sink in. Did she think he made the soup? He knew how to cook, but he was nowhere near his boyfriend’s level. Bernard was literally in school to be a chef. He liked to practice his assignments at Tim’s boat, suffering through using his poor excuse for a kitchen all so he could leave Tim with the food when it was finished.
Tim opened his mouth to break the news to Steph, but their phones rang out with the high pitched drone that meant someone needed backup. Stephanie sighed. She lifted the bowl and downed all she could in a few swallows before leaping to her feet. “Job never ends, huh?” She offered Tim a hand up, and he took it without hesitation.
“Nope. Let’s suit up.”
After that night, Tim forgot to correct her. He was busy, and his family getting the wrong idea about his cooking abilities just didn’t make the top of his priority list. Bernard kept cooking when he spent nights over, and family kept dropping by on other nights, somehow never crossing paths. Tim’s neighbors seemed perplexed on how he’d gone from only ever letting his boyfriend in to having company every other night. And Tim just…couldn’t find the right moment to set the record straight.
Everything came to a head in the summer, not too long after Tim’s birthday. He was sprawled out on his couch, head resting in Bernard’s lap as the blonde’s fingers scratched lightly at his scalp. It was the lazy kind of day they didn’t often get to spend together, and Tim was feeling warm and drowsy. That was, until his phone dinged with several text notifications, and he dug it out with a grumble to see who needed him.
stop spamming the gc
Dick: it’s august .. here we go
Steph: birthday month babey!!
Duke: my wallet…
Cass: Dami, Jason, Steph, and Duke all get the bday cake in their contact names :)
Steph: Tim I know you’re lurking. for the birthday month we all want you to bring GOOD FOOD TO THE FUNCTION PLS AND TY
Damian: do not forget my dietary restrictions if you do so.
Steph: you text like you’re 84
Tim groaned and let his phone clatter to the floor. Bernard’s fingers paused in his hair. “Bad news?” He asked, concern painting his voice.
Tim shook his head and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Not really. It’s just—um. You know how you always leave food here for me?” He tilted his head back to look Bernard in the face, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw that his boyfriend was already looking down at him.
He snickered at Tim’s expression. “Yeah? Do you need more?” He asked. Tim was baffled by the question. His fridge hadn’t been empty in ages, and even with his frequent guests, Bernard made such large portions that it took him days to finish a dish. He had more than enough.
“No, it isn’t that. My family…” he hesitated, wondering how dumb this was going to sound. But Bernard was waiting, watching him expectantly, and these days he’d started filling in the gaps himself whenever Tim’s words trailed off thoughtfully. If he didn’t finish speaking quickly, Bernard would have an entirely new problem invented.
“…um, they think I can cook.”
Bernard burst out laughing.
Tim’s face burned pink. “Wh—hey,” he complained at the reaction. “I know how to cook, why are you laughing?”
Bernard wiped the corner of his eye, giggling like a maniac. “Sorry, sorry! You said that like you were coming out to me, and also I’ve seen you sauté,” he managed, and Tim rolled his eyes at the memory. He had sautéed just fine…mostly.
When Bernard was finished laughing at him and had caught his breath again, Tim explained his situation and showed him the texts. He raised an eyebrow. “Jeez. Four August birthdays? And they expect you to cook for all of them?”
Tim sighed. “Yeah. I could just tell them they’ve got the wrong guy, but now it’s birthday month and we’ve gotta plan quick.” It was actually a very rare occurrence that they got together for every birthday in August. Their schedules were so unpredictable. But all 4 was the goal.
Bernard chewed his lip in consideration. “Okay. What if…you give me a list of each of their favorite foods and any restrictions, and I’ll make the food.” He proposed. Tim sat up, turning to face the blonde fully now.
That was way too much work for somebody already cooking for assignments. Plus, Tim didn’t want to pretend he was the one cooking anymore. He said as much to Bernard, who refused to look fazed.
“First off, I can cook 4 meals in my free time. Easy. And second off, I guess you’ll just have to bring me with you to clear up any misunderstandings,” he grinned.
Tim perked up instantly. That was…a perfect solution, actually. Everything would be cleared up, he wouldn’t have to show up without what was expected of him, and the best part, he’d get to bring Bernard with him. He’d been itching to start working his boyfriend into more of his family’s meetups because it was looking like their relationship was pretty serious. He wanted to be able to bring him to their holidays, parties, and dinners. This was a perfect opportunity to start.
He leaned in and kissed Bernard’s cheek. It would never cease to amuse him how a real kiss on the lips was nothing to his boyfriend, but Tim kissing his face always had him turning red.
“Oh.” Bernard touched his face. “You have a crush on me or something?” He teased weakly, and Tim laughed as he settled back down on the couch, his head resting in Bernard’s lap as his fingers found his hair again.
A week later, Tim showed up to the manor with Bernard following close behind, a pan of vegan chili noodles in his arms. Dick opened the door. He beamed once he saw Tim.
“Hey! C’mon, everyone is already inside, so if you brought the food you can…” he trailed off as he finally spotted Bernard behind Tim, who was fighting to keep a straight face. He blinked. “Oh, is this…?”
Bernard carefully balanced the dish in one hand and stretched out the other in greeting. “I’m the chef.” He said with barely contained glee.
The realization seemed to hit Dick all once. His mouth parted in surprise. He glanced back and forth between Tim and Bernard. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. “You know, this actually makes…so much more sense. Sorry, Tim.”
“Wh—excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?”
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bet-on-me-13 · 9 months
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Cass joins Team Phantom
So, we all know how Cass escaped her terrible dad at the age of 8 right? And how she is adopted by Batman at the age of 16-17 right? Well, what happened in between that time?
Cass has been on the run for Years now. She is 13, and at this point she has been on the run for nearly half of her entire life. So it's really no wonder that when she finally got to a relatively safe place after weeks of little food, little rest, and constant attacks by her pursuers, she accidentally fell asleep.
She woke up in a nice comfy bed, in a room that looked like an Astronomy Geek's dream. Once the people who found her noticed she was awake, they explained what had happened.
Their son, a boy named Danny, had found her passed out in their Shed the previous day while cleaning up. He had quickly brought her in and offered his Room so she could rest comfortably.
Cass doesn't really trust them, and tries to run more than once, but her weeks of constant exhaustion have finally caught up with her and she is stuck staying with them until she is fit to leave.
And unfortunately for her, the Fentons are very Endearing.
By the time she is healthy enough to leave, she genuinely wants to stay. So they unofficially adopt her, letting her stay in their house and sharing a room with Jazz (Danny did kind of need his room back, and Jazz was a good sister like that)
She ends up going to the same school as Danny and ends up befriending both of his friends, Tucker and Sam.
The day of the Accident, Cass is right there alongside Tucker and Sam as the Portal kills Danny.
After the Accident, she is a great help in teaching him some calming routines and meditation techniques so he can get a handle on his Powers much easier.
They also find out that standing in front of a Portal as it rips reality apart is just as bad as being inside of it. They all end up extremely liminal and get Powers. Tucker has Technomancy, Sam has Plant Powers, and Cass gets Shadow Manipulation (or whatever you think fits her)
She is having the best time of her life, but unfortunately it can't last forever.
About 2 years after the Accident, the GIW get a lucky shot on Danny. They were using one of the inventions the Fenton's had made before the Reveal (which was a good one) one that made Ghost Powers weaker for easier capture. While it didn't hurt Danny too much, it did weaken him enough that he flickered into his Human Form for just long enough for the GIW Agents to see him.
Now with Danny's identity exposed, the GIW could track down the Identities of the Humans who had been helping him all this time, aka, Tucker, Sam, and Cass.
During a Raid on Fenton Works, they all got seperated somehow.
Danny got injured protecting the Team, and had to be rushed to the Ghost Zone by Jazz, a stray shot from the GIW blowing up the Portal behind them. They ended up in the Far Frozen, to get Danny fixed up.
Tucker was arrested and sent to prison for a little while before a glitch in his cells Security System allowed him an opening to use his Powers to escape.
Sam was chased out of the Town by the GIW and ended up in the Forest nearby. She had to use her Powers to run away, disappearing too deep into the Woods for the GIW to follow.
Cass managed to sneak out, and ended up trying to save Tucker on his way to prison. She failed though, and the GIW chased her all the way to New Jersey before loosing her trail.
This is how she ended up in Gotham, and got adopted by Bruce Wayne. But she would never forget her first Family, and would try for years to see if she could find where they ended up.
Potential Part 2? Maybe, I have some ideas...
What do you think?
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sugrhigh · 1 month
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BOY NEXT DOOR 7 - ( c.s )
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part six
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- cursing, smut (oral m!receiving)
a/n: part 7 bay beeeee let’s get it, they’re falling yall 😳
@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @55sturn @l9vesick @mattinside @sturnioloco @rootbeerworshiper @stonermattsgf @dazednmatthews @chrisactualwife @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18
the following week and a half are a complete haze. between classes and schoolwork and hanging out with chris, it’s been a whirlwind of both pleasure and stress, but you’re not complaining about it.
it’s the most fun you’ve had with a guy in a minute, the most fun you’ve had with anyone in a minute period.
you catch yourself smiling at your phone in class when he texts you silly things throughout the day, or when he gives you a quick call to tell you something crazy. he’s always insisting that you spend the night at his, just so he can wake up with his chin nuzzled into neck and his arm wrapped around your waist.
after practices he’ll pick you up to go get food, or bring something back for you if he stops on the way home instead. you’ve also been to a few of his games since making up, which depending on the result will usually end in some type of fun new sexual escapade.
he never forgets to kiss you hello and goodbye, is constantly giving you his clothes to wear because they “look better” on you, and he even throws his arm around your shoulder in public without shame.
he’s doing the little things, and you have to admit that you really like it.
ramona and cass have caught on at this point, always shooting you sly grins when you say you’re heading out, or that you have plans. you never even mentioned chris by name in the beginning, but they knew.
and despite prior flukes, they both support you whole-heartedly and are always gushing about how different he’s acting. you try not to read into their theories too much, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder.
why would he be putting in effort on all of these extra gestures if he didn’t truly want something more?
he’s already got the sex, so what else does he need?
but one thing you still haven’t fully learned about chris is that he’s selfish. he needs and wants everything, in almost all aspects of his life aside from his romantic interests. that is, until he met you.
and now that he has you, finally, he wants it all. whenever you’re not with him, he’s thinking about you. sometimes it’s the dirtiest fantasies that he’s just waiting to fulfill, and other times it’s wondering what you had for lunch, or what you dreamed about, or what you’re up to with your friends.
when you are with him, he can’t get enough; your smell, the way your hair feels against his palm, the softness of your lips all over him. he adores when he makes you laugh, when you toss one leg around him before the two of you go to sleep, when you’re standing in the crowd supporting him in his jersey.
he even likes when you scrunch your nose in disgust at him after he hits you with yet another cheesy pickup line.
chris has no idea how to handle the intensity of his feelings, or how to identify them. unbeknownst to him, you’re feeling the exact same.
but everything is still normal as you two lounge on his bed, both enjoying the wind down after a long day. the sun is well below the horizon now and you’ve been watching hockey for the past two hours—shocker. but you can feel chris growing restless beside you, hand stroking your thigh lazily.
“alright, what’s your deal?” you ask after he huffs for the fifth time, even though you know he’s just bored.
he pauses to think about it for a moment, rolling his lips between his teeth. then his eyes go wide and a grin takes over his face as you watch an idea form in his mind.
“wanna play super smash brothers?” chris asks, and you feel your own expression light up at the suggestion.
“oh my god, seriously? i didn’t even know that game was still around.” you gush in excitement.
“lucky for you, i’ve got it on my switch.” he wiggles his eyebrows a few times before he leans over to grab the device off of his nightstand.
you stay silent while he props the screen up on top of the covers, sitting up straighter like he’s preparing for war as he hands you a controller.
though the console is a completely foreign thing to you, you used to be decent when you played on the wii several years ago. you have a feeling the skill will translate.
“are you sure you’re ready? i’m a known pro.” he warns you with a smirk as the game loads.
you shrug, deciding not to boast about your own ability just yet. better to leave it a mystery, just in case you do actually suck.
“your threats are unimpressive.”
“i’d hold the sass, princess. we haven’t even started yet. plus,” he drags the word out for effect as he stares at you with a devious look in his eye, “i have a dare for you.”
a snort escapes before you can help it. “so we’re back in middle school now?”
“c’mon, humor me.”
“alright, let me hear it.” you give in, because you are wondering what he has in store.
“every time i beat you, you have to take off a piece of clothing. and every time i lose, if i ever actually lose, i’ll do the same.” chris explains.
it’s an enticing offer. you pretend to contemplate the challenge, tapping on your chin lightly with your pointer finger as you furrow your brows.
“okay, i’ll take the bait.” you finally say.
you don’t plan on being defeated anyways. he’s underestimating you yet again, and you can also tell that he’s surprised by your answer.
but regardless, he gives you a nod of approval. “very daring, i’m impressed.”
“you'll be even more impressed when i kick your ass.” you tease with a smile, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before you refocus on the task at hand.
“sure i will, now pick your character already.” he prompts, pointing a finger at the screen.
you already know who you’re going to play as, because you used to choose the same fighter pretty much every time. so you use your controls to scroll and select quickly.
“so you’re a kirby girl.” chris notes with a grin, like it makes perfect sense.
“force of habit, i guess.” you respond as you glance down at the switch.
he just shakes his head, clicking on the default stage so that he can get the game ready to go. “that big pink fuck won’t save you now.”
“hey! don’t you dare talk about him like that, he can hear you.” you motion to the screen in offense.
this makes him chuckle, a delightful sound that you’ve come to know and love.
“yeah, yeah, whatever. are you ready?”
you square your shoulders. “prepare to die, chris sturniolo.”
the game begins a moment later, and neither of you are relaxed in his bed anymore. you’re both quite literally on the edge of your seats, fingers frantically jamming at the controllers.
you’re the first to hit him, watching his XP fade just a little bit as a result. he grunts beside you while he continues throwing aimless attacks your way, eyes narrowed in determination.
he’s next to land a big one, which knocks kirby on his ass for a solid few seconds as chris pummels your character. you’re at nearly half of your health before you escape his grasp, so you grit your teeth and keep battling.
but it’s no use. even though you knock him off of the little island, he delivers the final blow a moment later and pikachu wins the first round.
“shit!” you yell as you watch your own fighter die.
chris throws his arms up in victory, already beaming over the fact that you’ll have to be the first to start stripping. you stare at the screen incredulously before you hang your head in shame.
“i think you owe me something, baby.” he chirps happily.
your mind races, trying to find some loophole to save your dignity. then the sides of your mouth turn up just a bit. you reach down to peel your socks off and toss them to the floor, fully smirking now.
chris shakes a finger at you accusingly, though he’s smiling regardless. “that does not count, you little cheater.”
“it totally does. socks are essential to daily life.” you argue.
he licks his lips as he grips his controller once more. “fine, but you don’t have an excuse after this, and puppy eyes won’t get you out of it.”
“sure they won’t.” you reply innocently, giving him a knowing look.
the next round starts up and this time you come out swinging, sending quite a few damaging hits his way. you’re satisfied with the head start, avoiding him by jumping around on the obstacles in the arena.
every time he’s about to strike, you feel him tense up beside you, so you decide to use it to your advantage. you back up as he advances, once again steering clear of any harm.
then you switch up and go on offense again, sending pikachu up into the air with the last strike of the match.
chris groans in disappointment as you let out a brief cheer, nudging him with your shoulder suggestively.
“i think you owe me something, pretty boy.” you mock him, unable to hide how pleased you are.
he just rolls his eyes in response, reaching to grab the collar of his shirt so he can pull it over his head. you honestly weren’t fully prepared yet, and your mouth goes dry as you watch his muscles clench while he shifts to chuck it to the ground.
you can see some of the hickies you gave him scattered across his collarbones, and although you’re a little embarrassed, it’s also a bit of a turn on.
“distracted?” chris taunts.
you narrow your eyes and turn back to the switch. “never.”
the third round commences and you’re feeling far more confident now. he may have a big ego, but he’s not as good as he made himself out to be, so you’ve at least got a chance.
it’s dead even for a moment while you each go punch for punch, bringing your health down quite a bit. you’re completely zoned in until you feel his hand grip your thigh, inching higher and higher rather quickly.
it makes your stomach flip, and you’re forced to look over at him in surprise. in that moment, you know you lost, because chris removes his fingers just as quickly as they were there and goes for the final kill.
he meets your eyes after he’s secured the second win, pure amusement evident in his expression.
“who’s the cheater now, huh?” you shove him lightly, but he just laughs.
“hey, you never said touching was off limits. i was just using my resources.” chris says, clearly deciding to maintain his innocence.
“that’s total horseshit and you know it. you’re lucky i’m a good sport.”
so you tug your own sweatshirt up, throwing it toward the foot of the bed without a second thought. you’re left in your lacey red bra, though it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before anyways.
but when you glance over, there’s a hungry glint in chris’s eyes that lets you know he's just as excited as the first time. his gaze flicks down to your chest, tilting his head forward a bit so his face is closer to yours.
“jesus, that bra is fucking sexy.” his words sound more like a whine than anything else.
you can feel yourself beginning to shake ever so slightly in anticipation, trying to steady your hands by holding your controller.
“don’t say shit like that to me.” oh, but it sounds so delicious.
“i’m sorry.” chris lies breathlessly.
his lips ghost over your cheek, his teeth clamping down on that sweet spot behind your ear a moment later. you let out a small gasp, placing your hands on his warm chest to push him away.
“we’re supposed to be playing.” you remind him quietly.
everything in your body is screaming for him to pin you to the bed, to let him have his way with you, but you won’t let yourself get carried away that easily. not this time.
“damnit, i’m not going to be able to win with you looking like that right beside me.” chris complains.
“sounds like a you problem.” you brush him off and click the button to start the next round.
you can feel your hands sweating as you move kirby around the stage. you know exactly what you’re doing now, walking right into his attacks as if you’re practically begging to die.
the attention chris gave you after you lost last time was intense, and you can only imagine how it’ll go once you take off your pants too.
so, you let yourself lose. pikachu defeats kirby swiftly, and now it’s time to face the consequences.
“you suck at this.” he grins widely after your third loss, clearly content.
but you don’t say anything. you just lay back, lifting your hips up so you can wiggle your sweats down your legs. you kick them off at the foot of the mattress, enjoying the way chris’s eyes go wide as he watches you.
“you’re evil, you know?” his voice is dangerously low as you sit back up, confidence flooding through your veins.
you nod, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling like a cheshire cat. “what are you gonna do about it?”
he opens his mouth like he’s going to tell you, and then changes his mind.
“nothing.”
not the answer you were expecting. you furrow your brows, completely thrown for a loop, when you get your own brilliant idea. an idea he won’t be able to resist, literally and figuratively.
“fine, then i have a game for you.” you say, trying to provoke him.
“i’m listening.” he sounds intrigued.
“let’s see how long you can go without touching me, because i bet you won’t last more than a minute. but i can do whatever i want.” your voice gets sultry at the end as you glance down at his mouth.
chris feels all of the blood rush to his dick just thinking about the dare, already turned on from seeing you in your tiny matching set. he knows he won’t be able to contain himself, but he doesn’t care.
“filthy girl.” he purrs, nodding his head yes.
you watch him situate himself against the pillows, laying so you can roll to your knees and straddle him. his eyes roam your body, lips tilted into a lopsided smile as he relishes the feeling of your silky skin on his.
your hands go to his bare shoulders, steadying yourself as you lean down to give him a brief kiss. you move to his jaw before he can get to into it, taking your time as you finally reach his neck. he spreads his hands out on the comforter, gripping it harshly to prevent himself from giving in.
your hips rock against him agonizingly slow, and you can feel his hard on as you grind your cunt into it. fingers trail down his stomach, raking at the skin lightly.
he’s choking on his breath underneath you, trying so hard not to buck into your movements even though he wants to so bad. you’re careful, leaving open-mouth kisses in new areas in the hopes of giving him more hickies.
chris’s eyes flutter closed, lips parted in bliss as a small whine escapes, and you can tell he’s just itching to truly feel you.
you move your face up so you’re right by his ear, whispering your next words without hesitation.
“come on baby, touch me. i know you want to.”
it’s your first time using the pet name with him, and you can tell by the groan he lets out that it’s enough to send him over the edge.
his hands reach to grip your ass, rocking you against him harder as he gives one side a little slap. chris tilts his head so he can capture your mouth with his for a real kiss, tongue and teeth meshing together beautifully.
when you pull away his lips are glossy and red, which you always love seeing. you shift yourself off of him so your hands can move toward his sweats, fingers dipping below the waistband just slightly as you look up at him for permission.
chris nods eagerly, biting down on his lip and squirming around for any kind of contact. you steady his hips with your hands, clicking your tongue once in distaste.
“you better be patient, or i won’t do a damn thing.” you chide.
“i’ll be good. so good.” he promises, practically pleading with you now.
the neediness ignites a fire in your stomach, so you slowly begin to work his pants and boxers down his legs. his erection bounces free, slapping against his stomach, and you feel your mouth watering just looking at it.
once you’ve officially discarded his clothes, you position yourself between his legs so that you’re eye-level with his cock. he’s already throbbing at the sight, waiting as you spit in your palm and wrap it around the base of his shaft.
chris lets out a moan as you start to move your hand up and down ever so slowly, making sure to tease as much as possible because you know how sensitive he is right now. your run your thumb over his slit, which is leaking with precum, and he trembles in your grasp.
after a moment like this, you finally bring your head down, wrapping your lips around him and swirling your tongue across his tip.
“fuckkk.” he hisses through his teeth, reaching to wrap a hand in your hair messily.
you take as much of him into your mouth as you can, using your hand on the part you can’t reach as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head slightly. your other palm rests on his thigh, steadying yourself as you suck his dick.
“feels amazing.” he praises through a whimper, involuntarily bucking into your throat now.
you can feel him pulling you by the hair, forcing you to take more of him as tears brim your eyes. you know he’s getting close just based on the way he’s beginning to shake, so you pick up your pace a bit.
“shit, baby, just like that.” chris groans, his body shuddering as you work your tongue.
he’s breathing heavy now, head thrown back with his eyes screwed shut, hair messy across his forehead. his grip on you tightens, a dead giveaway that he’s about to come.
“fuck, fuck, i’m—”
you feel him twitch in your mouth, body completely tense as his orgasm spills down your throat. his hand untangles from your hair so you can pull away to swallow, brushing stray strands from your face.
his chest rises and falls heavily as he lays there, riding out the high before he peels his eyes open to look at you through the bleariness.
“you’re incredible.” chris says as he reaches for your hand, pulling you down into bed beside him.
he presses a kiss to your forehead, a gentle touch that you’re not used to, and you feel your stupid little heart melt.
“and you’re getting soft on me, mister tough guy.” you joke, poking his side like you're making a point.
“for you, i think i can live with that.”
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inbrightshadows · 11 months
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*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]
The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.
Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.
Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.
Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.
Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.
Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.
And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.
Then there's Leo.
In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.
Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.
He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.
And then Casey Jr gets sick.
It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.
It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.
There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.
Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’
Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.
It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.
But bad luck is bad luck.
Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.
“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.
Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.  
The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.  
The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.
Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.
And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.
So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.
When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.
“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.
“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.
Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help  Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.
Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.
That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.
The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.
He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.
He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.
His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.
All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.
On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.
“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?” 
Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.
Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.
It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.
There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.
To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.
The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.
He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.
Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.
“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.
Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.
Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.
Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.
He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.
“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.
Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.
“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.
Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.
He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.
Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.
He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.
Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.
“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.
A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.
Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”
Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”
“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”
Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”
Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.
“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.
He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.
For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.
It’s gone.
Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.  Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.
“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.
Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.
The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.
He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.
“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.   “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.
“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”
Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.
There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.
He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.
Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.
Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.
“Bemused scoff.”
Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.
“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”
Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”
“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.
“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.
“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.
It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.
Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.
The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.
And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.
Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.
He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.
It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.
“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game,  is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.
“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.
“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.”  Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.
“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.
“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.
“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.
Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.
“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”
“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.
Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.
“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.
The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.
“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”
Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.
“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”
Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.
Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.
“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-”  “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.
Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.
“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.
Mikey flees with a yelp.    Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.
Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”
And Leo lies.
Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.
“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  
Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.
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mediumgayitalian · 1 month
Text
“Eight o’clock.”
Will’s jaw drops. “What?” He leans sideways to make deliberate and intensive eye contact with Switzerland, who deliberately and intensively avoids it, pretending to be folding laundry. “No way! Cass, tell him no way!”
“Not my business,” says Switzerland, smiling, for some reason, at Will’s oppression. “Your curfew is Lee’s to handle, you know that.”
“Yeah, when I was ten! I’m sixteen! My curfew is not eight o’ fu —” he thinks better of himself, mindful of Lee’s twitching eye — “fudging clock!”
“Eight is a perfectly reasonable curfew for a sixteen year old. Especially if you’re going out with that —” Lee scoffs — “boy.”
“It’s just Nico!” Will cries, nearly braining a poor visitor with the force of his flailing arms. The visitor, after a moment of careful deliberation and several vague, pointed screeching noises from Will, chooses to pull the blood-soaked t-shirt acting as a bandage tighter over their arm and seek help elsewhere. Wise. When he fails, after several extended minutes of flailing, to extrapolate upon his undoubtedly most excellent argument, he repeats, “It’s just Nico!” And then adds, for good measure, “You like Nico!”
“He is a bad influence,” Lee insists, as if he did not cry for five days when Nico asked for his blessing to date Will. “He has too much freedom, you know, his father lets him run amuck like some harlot —”
Will screeches again, so high this time it is soundless, and must be restrained by Gabriel’s firm grip on his collar from mauling Lee like a bear. Lee, in an uncharacteristically smart move — Carter must be rubbing off on him — takes a delicate step back to avoid Will’s clawing fingers.
“—and has no respect for his elders. You’re going to end up bereft or in jail should you keep seeing him, Will, mark my words.”
Will bares his teeth. “If this is about the eyebrow piercing, you sack of shit, I swear to the gods —”
“He looks like a criminal!” Lee looks around the cabin as if anyone is going to agree with him. He is met, instead, with seven raised eyebrows and nine heavy, deep-seated sighs, but remains stubbornly undeterred. Delusional enough to miscredit the incredulity to Will rather than himself, likely. Truly Apollo’s pride.
“I am going to hunt you to death.”
“So long as you’re back by eight.”
Will deigns, instead of a verbal response, to scream, loud and long, and stomp his way away from the cabin and across the common.
“I’ll take that as compliance!” Lee calls out after him. The scream, somehow, increases in volume, not breaking even as seven people trip to remove themselves hastily from Will’s path. “If you are not back there will be consequences!”
“I hate you!”
“Be safe! I will be waiting up!
“I hope you pass away in your sleep!” A pause. “I don’t mean that, but fuck you!”
“Children,” Lee scoffs to himself, retreating back into the cabin. “No respect anymore.”
“You’re a loser,” Diana informs him.
“It’s those godsdamned iPods, is what it is.”
“Oh my gods.”
———
next
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months
Note
Hi, would you write about a self conscious reader who is going through a crisis with accepting herself and reveals that to jason todd in an emotional state like the dramatic “i hate myself” thing. Kinda having a moment like that myself and i need to read something that i can identify with
Your door was shut when Jason got there. He could feel the emotional angst leaking through the door. It slid over him like ooze. Over his skin and down his throat.
But he forced himself to breathe. Like last night. If he focused, he could find the edges of what he was feeling and push your influence back. You weren't focused on him.
He exhaled slowly and knocked, waiting. "Y/N? It's Jason" No one was in the hall but somehow it felt like everyone was in the hall. The trouble with living in a house of nosey bitches.
A solenoid disengaged and he pushed the handle. Letting himself inside, leaving the door cracked. Mostly so you didn't feel trapped.
As soon as he stepped into the room, the atmosphere was crushing. Oppressive. A sensation of being cold and humid. Self hatred, grief, and shame. And he can feel you trying desperately to pull those feelings under the surface. Wrestle them into submission.
Sweat prickling on your forehead from the effort.
"You should probably go," you manage.
Jason winces and takes a deep breath, forcing himself into a state of calm. Remembering how he deals with scared little kids and abuse victims. "What can I do?" he asked softly, moving closer. Below you, out your window you're watching everyone else. In the sun and playing outside. Shaking off the night-terrors you'd given them and the stress of patrol with water guns and slips and slides- a home made water park around the pool. Christ. It's no wonder you hate yourself.
"I'm fine. I just. I just-" Your voice is rough with unshed tears and when you break off, resting your head against the glass, Jason smiles a little.
"Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional," he chuckled. "We've all been there. You're just a little more obvious about it."
You make a soft miserable noise and he shakes his head, "No one wants you to stay away, "he murmured, changing tack. "Bruce gives us nightmares all the time. Ask Dick about his party hard days some time. His nudes got "leaked" once as a distraction when I was a kid and all the girls had them. It was gross."
When you huff a soft laugh, he nods towards your book shelf, "Not a lot of heavy lifting going on there," he teased, referencing the romances and young adult novels- a fair number of children's classics he noticed.
"I like happy endings," you murmur. "I don't- I just get overwhelmed. I get tired of being a monster."
Jason nodded. He didn't want to tease you for your books anymore. "You're not a monster, Y/N," he whispered. He'd spent a lot of time watching you. You offered kindness in a hundred different ways. Doing little things to help Alfred. Taking odd shifts for Barbara. Refilling Tim's water. Stocking gear. Taking time to just chill with Cass... he'd probably missed a lot of details. But a monster wouldn't do that.
"I feel like one. All the time. I feel like I'd be better off dead. Like if they would have been too late-"
"If they would have been too late, it would have been for nothing," Jason said, wiping tears off your cheeks tenderly as he knelt to cradle your face in his hands. "Those bastards that hurt you are monsters. You were a baby."
You don't meet his eyes but he can feel pain. A deep fissure that never healed. Like a wound that needed packed and never got it. Rotting and festering this whole time. Inflamed and ready to send you recoiling at the lightest touch. "Got a favorite happy ending?" he asked. "I'll read it to you if you want-"
"Aren't you an Austen snob?"
"Please. As if I could get away without reading at least a couple of Alfred's trashy Romance novels. Some of them are charming... a couple are even pretty decent writing. As long as they don't spend too much time describing the dude's cock."
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yeetus-feetus · 1 month
Text
Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused.
He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is ok.
The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"
One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.
Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too.
And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!
So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!
Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!
Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.
"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.
"I'm Robin."
"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.
Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.
Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.
Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.
"dick pick us up!"
"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"
"again!"
"again!"
It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.
Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.
But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.
"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.
Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."
Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.
It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".
"what are you reading?" Duke asks.
"Macbeth."
Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"
"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.
"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"
Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."
The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.
Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.
Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.
Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.
"gotta tell B"
"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.
"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.
"no way! Really? That's so cool, I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.
Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and awesome! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.
"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.
Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!
"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."
quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.
idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine
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clockwayswrites · 3 months
Text
Rumors of a Prince
“You could always ask Jason to pay her a visit,” Dick said from where he was lounging, mostly upside down, on the couch in Bruce’s study.
Bruce frowned at him. “I am not going to have Jason kill Vickie Vale.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said kill!” Dick held his hands up or, rather, given his position, down. “I just meant puts some fear into her. Maybe kidnap her for a few days so that she can’t write any more libel.”
Bruce found himself smiling, slightly and against his better judgment. It faded away when he looked back at his laptop. “At least in this case, it wouldn’t do much good. The stories is already out there and, unfortunately, Vale’s take on it has captured the public’s attention.”
“Tim knows I bet… and Babs.”
“Undoubtedly by now.”
“And if those two know, Steph knows. If Steph knows, she’s ranted to Cass.”
“Yes.” This family was impossible to keep things secret in.
“Welp,” Dick said and swung himself to be sitting up normally— or as normally as Dick ever sat. “Then I guess we better tell the others. How do you want to divide this?”
Bruce was grateful that Dick was willing to be his partner in this. “You would be best to take Jason. I’ll speak with Damian. Either of us can catch Duke when he returns from his patrol.”
Dick nodded. “And Tom?”
“I think perhaps it would be best to have as much of the family in the manor as possible,” Bruce said after a moment. “If he destabilizes, I want him to know that we are around and that he is still safe.”
“Alright.” Dick slapped his knees once and stood. “I’ll drag Jason back then. You know he’ll come if it’s for Tom.”
“Make sure he reads the article before he comes over.”
Dick grimaced. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be best. I’m going to bring some food too over with me. Good luck convincing Dami that he can’t go and stab Vickie Vale.”
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Dick chirped as he left for his task.
Bruce dropped his hand.
‘Gotham’s Pale Prince’ stared back at him from the screen.
-
“Seriously?!” Jason burst in through the kitchen door. “Have you read this swill?”
“Yes chum, of course I have,” Bruce said. He shot Dick, who trailing behind Jason’s fury, a look. Dick was supposed to get Jason to read the article before coming over.
Dick just shrugged helplessly and motioned in a way that conveyed Jason had read it and was still clearly quite upset.
“One of the biggest questions is,” Jason said, clearly reading now from the article with the air of Bristol accent he had put on, “perhaps, why the newest Wayne is not in school. Bruce has proven himself to be a champion of the educational system. This is despite the man himself being a college drop out’ like what the fuck?”
“To be fair, I am,” Bruce said.
Jason rolled his eyes and continued. “His oldest ward’— Dick is fucking adopted now, bitch!”
“Boo!” Steph echoed and tossed popcorn at the tablet Jason was holding.
(Bruce was neither sure when Stephanie had arrived nor where she got the popcorn.)
“Never going to college,” Jason said with a jab of his free hand, “and the second oldest never completing high school.’ I was dead you narrow minded shew!”
“Well, I mean, all she knows is that you were supposedly kidnapped by terrorists and tortured for years,” Dick said. He had moved over to help himself to Stephanie’s popcorn and paused raising the next handful to his face. “Okay, no, that’s actually worse.”
“And you are clear on your line that I cannot stab this woman for the dishonor she implies about the family?” Damian asked, again, as he joined them in the kitchen.
“Unfortunately we have to handle this the proper way, with a press conference,” Bruce said. Stabbing was looking increasingly appealing though.
Jason dropped into one of the open chairs. “I’d call it a battle of the wits, but I don’t think Vale has any left with this trash she’s writing!”
“Alright,” Tim said as he entered the kitchen with almost as much fury as Jason, just more contained. Cass followed in his wake. “I am sure that B has already run through no killing, no stabbing, no maiming, no poisoning—”
“No poisoning Vickie Vale,” Bruce said, feeling so tired.
“Way to go, Timbit, now we can’t poison her,” Jason groused.
Tim sighed, “Fair, I shouldn’t have assumed. I really thought someone else would have brought it up already.”
“People went for more bloody options,” Dick explained.
“Also fair,” Tim said, pointing at him. “Anyways, since we can’t do all that, can I ruin her reputation?”
“Tim,” Bruce sighed.
“Now come on old man, let’s here Timtam out,” Jason said, holding out his arm. “You said yourself we had to handle the proper way and I’m sure that our little socialite here knows just how to ruin her through something like a press conference.”
“You I can stab,” Tim said with a shark sharp smile towards Jason.
Jason returned it with a smile like broken glass. “You can try.”
“Oh, if you keep calling me a socialite I will try and I will manage.”
“Boys, please.”
“Are people threatening blood and violence again?”
Every head in the room swiveled towards the door to the hall.
Tom almost recoiled at the sudden attention of all of the family, taking a half step back and looking a little wide eyed.
Cass walked forward and wrapped her arm around Tom’s. “Tim is. To Jason.”
It took a moment for Tom to tear his eyes away from the family to look at his sister. “Of course. What’s… it about this time?”
“Jason is reminding Tim that he’s a rich society brat and Tim hates to be reminded about that even though it’s true because Tim is also a little freak and the upper crust would be applaud if they knew even a fraction of it,” Steph said before she stuffed his mouth full of more popcorn.
Everyone in the room paused for a moment.
“No, yep, I think that’s pretty much spot on,” Dick said. He wasn’t even pretending not to laugh.
The laughter was infectious and almost everyone was either snickering or outright laughing. Bruce even quirked up a little smile. Tom still looked mostly confused but at least less nervous.
“Come sit by me, little shadow,” Dick said with a smile.
When Thomas settled next to Dick, who immediately wrapped an arm around him, the room settled again into that slightly somber mood.
“What is going on?” Tom asked, voice small. There were times when he still seemed unsure if he could be a presence in a room or consternation. It was something that they were still working on as a family.
Bruce sighed. “A reporter found out about you and wrote an article with mostly speculation. Unfortunately, because of who I am in the city and my existing tendency to adopt, it’s getting attention.”
Tom chewed on his lip and Bruce just hoped he wouldn’t worry it so much it bled. “Bad?”
“Not bad towards you, but unkind. She made a lot of guesses and fact reasons about why the public hasn’t seen you,” Bruce explained.
“Oh. Am I…?”
The dropping of words wasn’t the best sign. Dick pulled Tom into his lap.
“No. Most of the children didn’t attend the press conference announcing them and you don’t have to either. But I will need to make one simply to clear up some of rumors. I wont say anything that you don’t want me to say.”
“Bruce and I can plan it out,” Tim said, “and then run it by you if you want to look over it.”
“Can… will… if anyone wants to help…”
“Of course!” Dick said cheerfully. “We can make a lunch of it or something. It will be the best press conference yet.”
“Yeah. And you don’t even have to watch it,” Jason said. “We’ll plan something fun for that day. The old man can go and do the hard work and we’ll enjoy ourselves.”
“Thank you, Jason,” Bruce said dryly, pretending he wasn’t warmed still whenever Jason refereed to him as anything approaching father.
“It’s what you deserve,” Jason said and tossed his tablet, cleared of the article, on the table. “Come on, let’s plan what we’re going to do.”
“The zoo is always enjoyable,” Damian said.
“You always say zoo,” Cass pointed out as she perched next to Jason.
“What about the park?” Steph suggested. She joined the others at the table and passed around her popcorn.
“Nah, Ivy has a new variety of tulips. I’m worried some of them might turn man eating again,” Dick said.
“We could head out of Gotham I guess,” Jason pointed out and pulled up the map.
Bruce slipped quietly out of the room with Tim on his heels.
“You can stay with them and help them plan,” Bruce offered. Tim was always too grownup, had been since before he came to Bruce.
Tim just shook his head. “I’m never the best distraction. I’ll be more use to you. Besides, I have some plans to run by you that doesn’t need the blood thirsty contingency hearing about.”
“Of course you do,” Bruce said with both a sigh and a smile.
“Nothing physical,” Tim defended himself. “I can ruin her legally.”
“That I have no doubt of.”
No matter what, Bruce had absolutely no doubt that the family would be there for Tom. They were a family, after all.
---
AN: Vickie Vale won't know what hit her. Esp after what she wrote.
Don't know if this will become a full sequel or not, but it was fun to revisit this universe and see how they've progressed!
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azriels-shadowsinger · 4 months
Note
helloooo!!! i wanted to request #15 from the prompt list with Az? have a great day<33
“I’m sorry. I don’t feel the same way.” “Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”
Azriel x Reader
wc: 900
a/n: thank yall for 300 followers!!
prompt list
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You pushed your dinner around on your plate with a fork, unable to ignore the nausea in your stomach that lingered whenever Azriel was gone on a mission. He was supposed to return this morning, and the more time that passed, the larger the pit in your stomach felt. What if he was hurt? Why is he still shielding his thoughts from Rhys? You can’t control the spiral of thoughts.
Just as you are about to stand to throw the food away, you hear a commotion in the other room. Abandoning your plate, you rush towards the living room. When you enter, you see Azriel standing there, reassuring Cassian and Rhys that he is fine. You immediately run, enveloping him in a bear hug. His shadows immediately circle around you and Azriel chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as well. You hear Cass and Rhys quietly leave the room and Azriel assures them that he will fill them in on the mission later.
“You aren’t allowed to leave for that long anymore.” You mumble into his chest. “I was worried something happened.”
“I’m fine, y/n/n. I got held up, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.” He reassures. “You worry too much.”
“How can I not? My best friend who I love dearly is gone for days at a time with no contact and-“ he cuts you off.
“You what?” He pulls away and stares at you.
“What?” You look at him confused, clearly unaware of what exactly you said, too focused on fussing over him.
“You said you love me.”
Well shit, you think. You have had a crush on Azriel for many years, the two of you constantly flirting and acting in ways beyond what most would consider appropriate for friends. However, it was only recently that you realized that you love him. And you were almost certain he loved you too, but you were always too scared to find out.
“Yeah. I do.” You say hesitantly, biting your bottom lip. Azriel pauses for a long moment before looking at the floor.
“I’m sorry. I…” he hesitates. “I don’t feel the same way.” Your heart sinks.
You knew what he was doing. Azriel’s insecurities run deeper than most people realize. But as his best friend, you were very aware of his habit of self-sabotaging when it came to dating, convinced that he was not good enough for them or that he would only cause them pain. In the past, you hadn’t tried too hard to stop him. Rather, you would selfishly relish in the fact that his time wasn’t being taken up by some other female anymore.
“Then look me in the eyes and tell me that.” You see his hand clench into a fist, and then flex. He was obviously fighting with his inner demons in his head, and if it went on for too long, the demons would win. Not this time, you thought. Not as you felt him slipping through your fingers. You place a gentle hand on his cheek and guide him to look at you.
“Y/n, I don’t-“ his shadows swarmed over his mouth, refusing to let the words leave. You smirked.
“See, even your shadows know you’re full of shit. Wanna try that again?” You said playfully, trying to lighten the mood. He reins the shadows in and takes a deep breath.
“Of course I love you.” You feel the tension ease from your shoulders. “But you deserve more. You deserve someone who doesn’t have a complicated past, who isn’t always leaving on missions, who doesn’t do such horrible things for their job.” His voice shakes slightly.
“I love you because of those things, not in spite of them. Yes, you have a complicated past, but it only proves your strength in overcoming it. Yes, you’re always gone on missions, but it’s because you are fiercely loyal to keeping your court safe. And yes, you may do some gruesome work on those missions, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still work that helps the Night Court and keeps us safe.” You can see his eyes light up slightly as you explain the reasons you love him.
“You may think I deserve better, but that isn’t your decision. And I’ve decided that I only want you.” You state matter-of-factly, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around him again. “There’s nothing you can say to stop that. I’ve been your friend for centuries and those things have never bothered me before, why would they now?” He smiles at your words and returns your hug.
“I love your stubbornness.” He mumbles before pulling you into a kiss.
“Keep that in mind down the road when you start to hate it, okay?” You reply with a cheeky grin, pulling a laugh from Azriel.
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this one was kinda tough bc personally i don't think azriel would ever be able to lie about loving someone, the poor guy craves to have someone to love who loves him too. But i also didnt wanna have reader the line, because anyone who knows azriel would never push him away like that if it wasn’t true because they know how badly he wants love. so idk how i feel about this one, lmk what yall think.
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tag list: @fxckmiup
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months
Text
Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 6
Young Love and Old Money Masterlist
AN: Y'all I love Eris so much I hate making him a villian here. Someone comment some Eris fic ideas so I can write something good about him.
Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?
Warnings: Sexisim, heavier SA in this one, Smut
Word Count: 7,094
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I woke up the next morning to warm, strapping arms wrapped around my bare skin. The velvet stone of Cassian’s bare chest pressed against my back. The sheets were so disheveled from last night's escapades that they barely covered our bare bodies. I felt a soft kiss being pressed to my cheek and I turned to find Cassian beaming down at me. 
After admitting our feelings for one another, we spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other's arms just enjoying each other's warmth. I didn’t mind the comfortable silence. I had been waiting to fall asleep on the general's broad chest. I intended to savor every moment.
 I still couldn’t believe the events of last night. How his hands felt roaming my body. The fire his lips left on my skin. The feeling of him inside of me. Everything about him was addicting, and I found myself wondering when it would be appropriate to ask for him to touch me again. 
“Good morning beautiful,” Cassian smiled down at me pressing a kiss to my forehead. 
“Good morning general,” I smiled back brushing a lock of dark hair out of his face. 
The second Cassian and I finished last night he looked at me differently. Like I was his whole world. Not that he hadn’t always looked at me that way, but this time it was different. As if finally having me made him a changed person. 
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, his eyes raking my body looking for any sign of injury. 
“A little sore,” I admitted shifting my legs between the thin sheet. “But nothing I can’t handle.” 
“It won’t be like that next time,” he assures me, pressing another kiss to my forehead like he can’t help it. 
“Oh, there will be a  next time?” I smirk and Cassian rolls his eyes. 
“I’ll have you for as long as you let me princess,” he beams. “I wasn’t lying last night. I really do love you with all that I am. I never want to be parted from you.” His eyes shone with such love as he reiterated every word. 
While I didn’t doubt his love, it was comforting to hear again in the light of day when the effects of too much wine had worn off too. 
“I love you too Cassian,” I smile pecking his lips as I feel his arms hold me closer. My stomach gurgles, telling me it’s time for sustenance. 
“I think your stomach likes me too,” Cassian laughs, pressing a hand to my abdomen.  
“Well you were touching it last night,” I mused, pressing a kiss to his lips earning a growl from him. He pressed me further into the mattress and the feeling of his bare body on mine was enough to make the blood flowing through me heat up. “Cass, wait I have to pee,” I giggle, pushing him away.  
“And you have to eat,” he laughs, rolling off me. “Go ahead, the bathrooms over there. We can get breakfast when you’re done.” 
I stand and become acutely aware of how naked I am. I search the floor for something, anything to cover me up, and find Cassian's shirt lying on the floor. I quickly throw it over my head, aware of how his burning gaze watches my every move.  
“Fuckkkk,” I hear Cassian groan behind me. 
I turn to find him face down on his pillow, wings splayed. 
“What?” I laugh making my way towards the bathroom. 
“You’re wearing my shirt and it’s turning me on. That’s what.” he groans into the pillow. 
“Well then maybe you can help me take it off when I get out,” I smile before closing the door. 
Cassian’s bathroom was surprisingly neat. For a male who was always on the go, it surprised me. My eyes looked at the enormous bath, one clearly made to accommodate his wings. On the edge lay a bar of soap, clearly what that cedar smell was coming from. His scent was strongest in here. I did my business and washed my hands in the intricate sink that was much like mine. 
I surveyed myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess and my lips looked like they had been kissed thoroughly, which they had. I thought about the night, from how it ended going back to how it started. 
Eris.
The ring. 
My blood ran cold as the once joyous look in my eyes faded. I was an engaged woman who had just had sex with another man. Cauldron save me. But Cassian wasn’t “a man” he was everything. I loved him with everything I was. I had loved him for so long now. 
As I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror I couldn’t help but think of my people. The children in the street I saw the day Rhys told me Eris wanted to marry me. The sour taste of guilt filled my mouth. I had chosen Cassian over saving my people, over saving my brother. Oh gods what have I done? 
The guilt came first, but the reasoning came second. I had to find a way I could have it all. Autumn Court armies to save my people and Cassian to save me. There had to be a way. I just wasn’t sure of how. I only knew what had to be done now. 
I exited the bathroom no doubt looking more somber than I did when I entered it. My eyes were fixated on a certain black dress at the edge of his large bed. I felt Cassian’s eyes follow me all the way to the dress as I picked it up and fished the gaudy ring out of the pocket. 
“What is that?” he asked, scooching up the bed curiously. 
“It’s my engagement ring,” I deadpanned, slipping the ring on my finger once more. My eyes turned to Cassian who had thankfully put on pants while I was in the other room, not that his muscled chest wasn’t distraction enough. 
“Are you going to give it back?” he asked and I could hear the layers of uncertainty in his tone, It nearly broke my heart in two. 
“Not yet.” I sigh, inspecting the ring on my finger. “For now we will have to go on acting like nothing is happening. I can’t tell Eris yet. I need to find a way to get more armies for our court.” 
Cassian stands and I can feel his tension radiating throughout the room, the presence of a general making itself known.
“You know that Eris won’t just give us armies without something in return,” he says, his tone trying not to waver. 
“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change the contract,” I say turning to him. “All he seems to want is a son. Maybe if I can give him one he will let me go and we can-” 
“No, absolutely not,” Cassian’s rough voice cuts me off. “I won’t let you pay for armies with your body. Not when the troops I’ve trained are ten times better fighters than the Autumn Court armies,” he argues, coming to stand in front of me.
He takes his hands in mine, thumbs brushing across the band on my left hand. He’s practically begging me to look at him but I can’t face the embarrassment I feel. Not when he’s so honorable. 
“I don’t doubt your abilities Cass, but it’s about numbers right now. Hybern has more bodies than we do. We need more soldiers.” I say quietly. 
I know that I’m right, but pushing Cassian away feels like the most wrong thing I could ever do, and I can’t decide which feeling should prevail. 
“I would rather die than watch you carry Eris’ son,” he says shortly like the words themselves are cutting his mouth. 
My eyes finally meet his, and in that deep hazel lies a worry by the likes of which I’ve never seen. “Do you love me, Cass?” I ask, trying not to tear up. 
“You know that I do,” he assures me, moving a hair out of my face. 
“Then I need you to trust me. I need you to understand that the safety of my court matters to me. I love you Cassian and I want to be with you always. I’ve denied myself of you for so long that I know I can’t stay away from you now. But just like it’s Rhys’ job to be High Lord it’s my job to be a Princess.” I start watching his eyes soften already. “Give me time to figure this out. I’m going to find a way that I can have you and have my court safe. I just need you to give me time and I need you to believe in me.” 
Cassian’s eyes soften and his hands move from my own to my back, pulling me into a hug. I can’t help but wrap my arms around him as well, remembering a time when it was all I wanted. 
“I understand, and I trust you y/n,” he says into my hair and I feel my body relax. “I only have one condition.” 
“Anything Cass,” I say into his chest. 
“That we continue this courtship in secret,” he states. “I know it’s a lot to ask but I don’t think I can stay away from you y/n.” 
I can’t help but smile at his words. “Of course Cass. I had no intention of being without you,” I say now staring up at him. “Besides, it might be fun to have a secret relationship,” I smirk, leaning in for a kiss. 
Our kiss was halted by commotion erupting from down the hall.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Azriel’s voice boomed from the living area down the hall. 
I pulled away from the kiss and Cassian and I’s eyes met with a confused glance, both our brows furrowed. My mind races through the night's events trying to figure out what could’ve made Azriel so upset. Then it dawned on me.
“The puppy!” Cassian and I both exclaimed in unison. 
I pushed myself off Cassian making a beeline for the door. My bare feet padded down the carpeted hall toward where I left the little pup. Curse Cassian and his glorious body and his delightful cock for making me forget about the little furball I left sleeping by the fire. 
I turn the corner to find Azriel holding the pup in one arm as he inspects the whiskey glass I broke when Cassian had me on the counter. Azriel’s jaw drops and I look down to realize that I’m still in Cassian’s shirt. As if in queue the general himself rounds the corner half-naked. My eyes flitted to Azriel’s other hand which had a chewed-up boot grasped in it. 
“Oh, Az I’m so sorry,” I say, padding over to pluck the pup from his arm. She greeted me happily, licking my face as she had done a thousand times before. 
Azriel inhaled sharply and twisted his face, “I love y/n, but you reek of Cassian.” he cringed. 
“Hey!” Cassian protested from the other side of the room. 
“We are the worst secret keepers in the world,” I laugh, turning to Cass with the puppy in my arms. 
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Azriel laughs. “But I need to know why there’s a puppy here.” 
“Cassian got drunk and stole it from Eris for me,” I laughed, placing a kiss on the puppy's head. 
“Well if you need to find her a home I know someone,” Azriel said, stepping closer to brush a large hand over the pup's face. 
“Really?” I asked Cassian who was watching his brother expectantly. 
“Yeah, I just came from Windhaven. There’s a little girl there who just lost her mother. I think she might need a new friend,” Azriel smiled at me, petting the pup again.  
I looked at Cassian, my eyes already pricking with tears at the thought of giving a little girl some hope. He just gazed at me like I put the stars in the sky, or wrote one of those damned war books he loved so much. I’m not sure what changed last night for him, but I would never protest the way he looked at me now. 
“You want to go to Windhaven little girl?” I asked the puppy, and all I got in response was another big lick.
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Cassian's pov:
“I can’t believe you finally did it man!” Azriel cheered enthusiastically, clapping me on the back.  
We had just given the little girl her new friend and were now inspecting the camp. I wished I had Rhys’ ability to show people things mind to mind, Y/n would’ve loved the sight of that little girl seeing the puppy for the first time. Her eyes lit up and I could tell that she hadn’t felt true happiness for quite some time. She said she was going to name the puppy Mira and then proceeded to talk Az and I’s ear off about how they were going to everything on earth together. Y/n would’ve loved to see the puppy find a happy ending, but I didn’t want her anywhere near this camp. 
“Yeah I guess I did,” I shrugged. 
I knew that I should be more enthusiastic about finally being able to be with y/n, hell I should be in a temple on my hands and knees thanking the cauldron that she's my mate. But there was a lingering fear and sadness that I would still lose her to Eris despite it all. 
“Why don’t you sound excited about this? This is the girl you’ve been pining over for years and now she’s your girlfriend,” Az pushed my shoulder trying to snap me out of my funk. 
“She’s not just my girlfriend Az,” I admitted, kicking a stray rock out of my path. 
“Wait what,” Az said, footsteps coming to a halt on the gravel path. “She’s your-” 
“Mate,” I cut him off. “Y/n is my mate,” I say and I can’t help but smile at finally getting to say the words out loud. 
In an instant Azriel’s arms were thrown around me nearly tackling me to the ground, “Cass I’m so fucking happy for you. You both must be so happy,” he cheers and I feel the sadness creeping in again. 
“She doesn’t know yet,” I tell him, stepping away from his embrace.
“What do you mean she doesn’t know?” Azriel says furrowing his eyebrows. 
“The bond snapped for me and not her,” I say sitting down on a log. “I was going to tell her, but she is still dead set on getting us those armies from Eris and she was so passionate about saving her people I couldn’t bring myself to complicate things for her. She’s going to try to negotiate with Eris so we can be together and still have the Autumn Court’s alliance. But, she needs time to think of a plan, that’s why we can’t tell a soul about us, not even Rhys. I’m worried I’m going to lose her Az.” 
Azriel sits down on the log next to me and places a comforting hand on my shoulder, “Trust her Cass, she’s a princess she knows what she’s doing,” he assures me. 
“I just don’t understand why she won’t just call off the engagement!” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. 
“She bears a burden we will never fully understand. So does Rhys. All we can do is be here for both of them and show them support,” Az says, turning his gaze to the valley below us. 
My head hears his words and understands them. I know why this matters to y/n and I know that no matter what I say we really do need more soldiers. However, it doesn’t stop my heart from lurching just thinking about how Eris will treat her while she figures out her plan. Gods this is so wrong…
Wrong 
Wrong 
Wrong 
Wrong 
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y/n's pov:
I had never worn red in my life. 
Night court black was always my color of choice and at times I would branch out to blues or darker shades of violet but never red. Yet here I found myself, clad in a burgundy dress. 
Apparently becoming Eris' fiance came with certain aesthetic changes that were out of my control. Yesterday a whole trove of dresses in varying reds and oranges and even a few gold ones were sent to the house. Some were labeled for certain events, like the upcoming engagement party that was occurring at the end of the week. Others weren’t labeled for anything, like the one I wore now. Nevertheless, I hated every single one of them. 
“Any particular reason why you’re wearing red today?” Cassian smirked from where he stood in the foyer, his chest puffing up with male pride as his siphons seemed to glow. 
I realized that he thought I had chosen red to match his siphons. My cheeks flushed at the comment as I peered down at the gossamer fabric. Red wasn’t just the Autumn Court’s color, it was Cassian’s color, and suddenly I didn’t mind the change so much. 
“Unfortunately no,” I sigh, taking his hands in mine. “Eris sent a bunch of these over, it seems I’m already expected to assimilate into the Autumn Court culture.”
Cassian smiles at me putting his hands on my waist, “Well you look lovely in my color darling,” he says nuzzling my neck and I’m immediately put at ease. 
I tilt my head up to place a loving kiss on his lips, relishing the feeling of him moving against me, his hands gripping my waist tighter. It was likely the last kiss we would have today. I pulled away to admire that beautiful face. 
“Now remember we have to act like nothing is going on between us,” I remind him. “That means if Eris touches me in a less than polite way you can’t intervene or you’ll blow the whole operation.”
“May I imagine all the ways I wish I could intervene if he does?” Cassian smirks, pressing a kiss to my forehead and holding me close. 
“Only if you tell me about them when we get home,” I laughed into his chest. 
“Done deal princess,” he chuckles, letting me go. 
I check to see that my engagement ring is on and the glamour to hide my scent from Eris is up before Cassian scoops me up and launches us into the sky.
As we fly over the mountains and valleys I can’t help but let my mind drift to my current running plan. I figured the best course of action would be to make Eris realize how poorly matched we are. He might want to be the “first” to bed me, but after that, he’s still married to me and he certainly wouldn’t want to spend the rest of his life with me. Not when I hated him. If I could scare him with the permanence of marriage maybe he would back out altogether. Then we could try and renegotiate for some of his armies.
We land firmly on Autumn Court soil and like always Eris is there to greet me within moments. I let my hand rest on Cassian's shoulder for as long as I possibly can and the second I have to reach for Eris I already find myself missing the warmth of him.
“You’re a vision in Autumn Court red my pet,” Eris muses, pressing a kiss to my lips.
“I was surprised you sent me so many,” I say, looping my arm in his and letting him lead me through the castle. 
“Well now that you’re officially mine it was time to start decorating you,” he smirked, glancing down to the ring on my left hand. 
It took everything in me not to roll my eyes at the comment. “Well they certainly are beautiful,” I say shortly trying to not let my disdain show. 
“You’ll have many more after we are married of course,” he replies. 
My stomach lurches at the thought of the wedding taking place in just a couple weeks. Dear gods, I hoped this ramshackle plan of mine worked. I wanted to bring up the idea of marriage now but my thoughts were cut off as we rounded the corner to find a large banquet hall full of large three-tier cakes. Four or five servants rushed about fixing each cake and setting up the plates and forks. As we approached the table I ran my hand along the thick tablecloth admiring the details on each white frosted cake. 
“You sure are hungry,” I joked with Eris glancing behind me to see Cassian standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. 
Eris let out a chuckle, “I can assure you it’s not the cakes I’m hungry for my pet,” he says low into my ear, his proximity suddenly way too close for comfort. 
“We have a grand selection of cakes for you to choose from,” interjected one of the servants who was helping set it up. I had never been so thankful for an interruption. “The one before you is red velvet with a white chocolate buttercream.”
If I had to deal with Eris today at least I would get to do it with cake. I grabbed the pre-sliced cake before me and went to take a bite. I hated to admit it, but it was incredible. The sugary, spongy cake melted in my mouth and the sweet frosting made for the perfect companion. 
“What do you think little flame?” Eris asked, finishing a bite of his own.
“It’s incredible,” I nearly moaned, trying not to talk as I savored my second bite. 
“If you like that one you might like the chocolate raspberry with the same frosting,” she said, handing us each a plate of another cake.
Once again the dessert melted in my mouth, somehow even better than the one before it. The servant left us to bring out more flavors while we spent the next few minutes comparing cakes. Eris was being uncharacteristically normal and I started to wonder if he had regretted his behavior at the ball. If he had he didn’t acknowledge it. 
We approached the last cake on the long banquet table and I couldn’t help but notice the intricate designs piped onto each tier. Large white leaves cascaded down each level like fresh ivy. If I didn’t know it was frosting, I would’ve thought it was hand-carved marble. 
Suddenly Eris’ presence behind me was more than stifling as I felt the heat radiate from his body. He reached an arm around me to wipe a finger through the intricate design of the pastry. He stood next to me and almost as if on instinct my eyes fixated on his. His once amber eyes were a darker color than usual and I knew it wasn’t because of the lighting. 
“Open,” he instructed, holding his finger close to my lips.  
My mind told me to fight, scream, kick, and run into Cassian’s arms. I could sense the general's burning stare to my far right. But as if I was puppeteered, opened my mouth and closed it around Eris’ finger. The flavor of sour lemon coated my tongue, how fitting. He pulled the finger out with a pop, his eyes darkening at the sight of the leftover frosting on my lips.
“Good pet,” he smirked before taking my hand and wiping one of my fingers through the frosting so he could do the same to me. His mouth wrapping around my digit had me ripping my hand from his grasp in panic.
“Eris I want to talk about the wedding,” I said foolishly, acting on pure emotion. 
“What about it little flame?” He asked, resting his hands on my waist.
I took a second to ground myself, taking a deep breath to keep myself from lashing out and acting like a fool. If I wanted this to work I had to be dignified and collected. I had to make sense. 
“I just want us to really think about it,” I start as he nuzzles my neck. “I mean marriage is forever.”
“It better be,” Eris says, pressing a kiss to my temple, his hands wandering up and down my waist possessively. 
“Forever's a long time, I’m just not sure-” 
“Are you saying you don’t love me?” Eris cuts me off stepping back to look at my face. 
I scan his face, trying to decide if I should tell him the truth. This conversation was not going the way I wanted. 
“You know that I don’t,” I say calmly hoping he’ll see reason.  
Eris’ eyes darken again the silence so heavy between us the only thing that can be heard is the clattering of plates and forks that the servants are cleaning up. I look for a hint of anger within those auburn eyes but all I find is a simmering calm. One that doesn’t ease my nerves. 
“Leave us, all of you,” Eris orders the waitstaff. The sound of hurried steps echoes about the room as Eris keeps his eyes on me. “That means you too filth,” he turns his head to Cassian. 
I turn to meet his eyes as he scans me for any sign of panic. But I just nod at him to follow Eris’ orders. I don’t know what comes next, but I do know that if Eris finds out even the smallest information about us Cassian’s life will be forfeit. 
Cassian nods back before stepping outside the double oak doors and shutting them. 
The air in the room thickens and I swear the candles lighting the chandelier above us start to dim like all the life had been sucked out of the room. Eris stepped closer to me and I felt my backside hit the edge of the table as he loomed over me. 
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, pet,” he grated. “The second I slipped that ring on your finger you became mine. My property. Mine to own. If you don’t love me now I will make you love me if only to have that much more control over you.” he said, slipping a finger under my chin to force my gaze upon him. 
“I could never-” 
His hands slipped under me, placing me on the banquet table, “I would be careful what you say little flame,” he growled, hiking my skirts up so he could run a hand over my thigh. 
“Eris you can’t fuck me we aren’t married yet,” I gritted as he started leaving open mouth kisses on my neck. 
“Who said anything about fucking you?” he sneered in my ear hand moving up the inside of my thigh to cup my sex. “I just want to play with my new toy.” 
I was petrified. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even think as his hand slid into my panties and up my folds. A low groan rumbled from his chest. This time I didn’t stop the tears as they fell silently down my face. 
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Cassian's pov:
I had been in battle before. I had seen friends and fellow soldiers die right next to me and whenever it happened I was filled with an insatiable rage that had me killing everything within a 10-foot radius. 
Nothing compared to the fury I felt now. 
He’s touching your mate.
He’s touching your mate.
He’s touching your mate.
It was like my biological makeup was forcing me to tear the doors from their limbs and rip Eris to shreds. I could feel everything. Her ice-cold fear mixed with moments of pleasure that I knew were beyond her control. 
The sound of shattered glass on the marble floor reverberated from the other side of the door…
I swear my blood started boiling beneath my skin as I felt every emotion she was going through. The only thing keeping me in check was the knowledge that if I betrayed her trust, I would never regain it. That thought made me equally sick so I chanted the only thing I could think of in my mind. 
Hold on baby
Hold on baby
Hold on baby
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y/n's pov:
The bathwater was scalding hot. Just like I had instructed the house to make it.
When it was time to go Cassian had asked me if I wanted to talk about it but I just couldn’t face it. I couldn’t admit to him what had happened. I just felt so dirty, and if I was even going to speak to him I had to feel clean again. This is how I found myself flying home with him in silence before making a beeline to the bathroom to jump in a boiling hot bath. 
Well, his bathroom to be exact. For some reason being in an abnormally large tub felt more comforting at the moment. As I at in the middle of the pool-sized tub I started to feel Eris’ hands being washed off me. 
The experience was horrible. 
While he fingered me he allowed his hands and his mouth to run over every square inch of my body. My neck, my legs, my waist, the swell of my breasts. The only saving grace I had was that he didn’t take my dress off, but what comfort was that really? 
The worst part of it all was that I came for him. Something I wanted to reserve for Cassian and Cassian alone. The look on my face when I came undone, the sounds I made, all of those belonged to Cass. Yet, Eris had now borne witness to it, and I wondered if my general would still want me. 
A light knock sounded at the door. One I declined to answer. 
The door creaked open and from the side of my eye, I could see a tall figure in the doorway. His hair was swept up in a bundle at the base of his neck, red siphons glowing. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Cassian asked quietly, like if he spoke too loud I might shatter into a million pieces. 
“Not really,” I deadpanned, still unable to meet his gaze.
 I felt him kneel down beside the edge of the bath and in that moment I knew that he was aware of what transpired behind those closed doors and it took everything in me to not spill my guts. 
“Why my bath?” he asked, sensing I didn’t want to talk about it.
The subject change had me turn my eyes to him. Swirling around in that shade of hazel that made my stomach flip was all the sadness in the world and I cursed myself for being the reason that was so. Gods, I was a fucking monster no matter what I did. If I left Eris to be with Cassian I would bear the blood of thousands and if I stayed with Eris then I would watch the love of my life and the most honorable man I know be torn to shreds. 
“It’s bigger,” I shrug lifting my hand from the water to place it on his forearm that rests on the edge of the tub.  
He glances down to where our skin meets and I see his eyes go wide at the angry red color of my arm. 
“Y/n the water is too hot you’re burning yourself,” he fussed, placing a cool hand over the irritated skin. His eyes were glassy with worry and it drove a stake through my heart.  
“I don’t care,” I uttered. “I need the feeling of his hands all over me washed off.”  
“Then let me help you,” he says softly, grabbing a washcloth beside him and the bar of soap. “This is all I have,” he holds up the cedar-scented soap. “Do you want me to go to your room to get you something better?” 
“No, that’s fine,” I nod to him.
He lathers the soap in his hands and rubs down my shoulders, his strong fingers rubbing the tension from my muscles. The familiar smell of cedar surrounds me and I take a deep breath to bring the familiar smell deeper into my lungs. 
Cassian takes his time washing every inch of me, all the while his eyes looking for marks that Eris might’ve left of me. Like if he saw even the faintest bruise he would fly back and put his head on a pike. Cassian touches me like I’m made of glass and could shatter at every moment. Even while washing the most intimate parts of me he never made it feel sensual, it was just care, and love. 
He used the small bowl at the side of the tub to rinse the soap out of my hair, finally cleansing me of Eris at last.
“Better?” he asked, his voice less timid than last time. My body had loosened up, signaling I was coming back to myself. 
“Much better,” I smiled at him. “But I would be astronomically better if you were in here with me.”
“Can’t say no to that,” he smirked, rising from his knees to tug his clothes off. 
I couldn’t help but stare as he meticulously de-robed himself. Every gracefully carved muscle, every scar, the way that he moved. It was all so captivating. I had seen him bare before, but that was in a heat of lust. Seeing him like this? He was a work of art and I desperately wished I was an artist so I could paint him. 
He slipped into the tub behind me, arms instinctively wrapping around me to cradle me to his chest. On instinct, I flinched. Not because I thought Cassian would ever hurt me, but because I felt like I still carried the weight of what Eris had done to me. 
“You don’t have to feel guilty about what happened, you know?” Cassian said as if sensing my feelings. “You were a victim y/n. If I had been given permission I would’ve torn him limb from limb for touching you like that.” 
My body relaxed against his words but it didn’t stop the thought that plagued my mind, “he made me cum Cass.” I whispered. 
“That was your body’s natural reaction. You can’t control that,” he assures me, holding me even tighter. 
A beat of silence passes and I can’t help but remember the feeling of coming undone for Eris. 
Wrong. 
Wrong. 
Wrong. 
It felt so wrong when it happened. I had never been more ashamed in my life. I had promised that all of me belonged to Cassian and yet my own body betrayed me. I knew Cassian was right, it was just my body reacting, but it still happened and it raised one question…Did Cass still love me knowing that I had been defiled by another man?
I knew it was pathetic to ask. I felt like an idiot even bringing it up. But I wouldn’t know peace until I heard his answer.
“Do you still love me?” I said quietly, like if I said the words too loud they would turn around and bite at me. 
“Gods y/n of course I still love you. Sometimes I love you so much I can’t breathe, it’s like the words get caught in my throat and they suffocate me,” he says burying his head into the crook of my neck. 
I turn in his grasp to face him, water splashing around and spilling onto the tile floor. He looks so vulnerable like this, and it only makes me love him more. The fact that my mighty general would be this vulnerable for me, and only for me.
“Eris might take, and take, and take from me until I can figure this out,” I say, my wet hand caressing his cheek. “But all the while, I want you to know that every square inch of me belongs to you, Cassian. When my body leaves this world, my soul will stay with you, for to separate the two would be sacrilege.”
“Y/n,” he breathes softly before pressing his lips to mine. 
The feeling of his skin against mine is enough to cloud my head. The love is so strong, so real, the realest thing I’ve ever known. The kind of love that inspires books and sonnets. The kind of love that weaves its way into mythology forever recited by drunken men in taverns. 
I feel his arousal grow beneath me and my body goes weak at the knowledge that it happened just kissing me. 
“Fuck,” he hissed pulling away to peer down. “I’m so sorry y/n, I know you don’t want to given all that you went through-” 
I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, earning a low groan from deep in his chest. Maybe he’s right and I shouldn’t want this right now. But I do. I want him, I want all of him and I wonder if I’ll ever be truly sated. 
My hand ghosts over his chest, past his abs, and towards his cock. I pull my mouth from him to watch his face as I hardness beneath my fingers. In one swift motion, I line myself up and sink down onto him. 
“Oh fuck,” he moans, his eyes blown wide as he grips my hips sliding me up and down his length.
“Cassian,” I whisper long and low feeling every solid inch of him fucking into me.
His hands roamed my water-slick skin, making it easy for him to touch every inch of me. I would never get tired of this, of feeling so full. Of feeling completely and utterly one with him. I slammed my hips down on his, not caring about the massive amounts of water splashing over the edges. My hands roamed all over his body, loving the feel of every muscle beneath my fingers. 
“It’s like you were fucking made for me,” Cassian groans moving a wet hair from my face so he can press his forehead to mine.   
I place my hands on his abs to help move myself up and down his cock. My fingers secretly commit every single muscle to memory and I swear one day I’ll get myself off on his abs alone. My eyes open just enough to watch his face contorted in pleasure. His eyebrows furrow as if he’s trying to keep himself from losing control. 
I slow my movements, unable to keep the pace I set. His hands fly back to my hips holding them in place and suddenly he’s fucking himself into me at a rate that has my body going limp. The only thing keeping me up? My hands braced on his pecs.
“Oh gods Cassian!” I cry, my voice broken up as he hits me so deeply I never thought possible. 
“Cum for me y/n,” he grits out and it’s enough to have me seeing stars. 
“Ahhhh Cass!” I cry, cumming all over his cock eyes brimming with tears from the sheer pleasure.
He struggles to thrust back into me from the way my orgasm constricts around him. But I feel his thrusts start to falter as his head falls back on the edge of the tub. He cums in me with a groan so deep and primal I swear I could fuck him again if my legs weren’t so tired. 
I let my upper body fall onto his chest, and the sound of bathwater spilling reverberates around the room. I try to catch my breath as I think of how badly I already need him again. Even in a way that’s not sexual. I just need him near me, need his skin on mine, and for the life of me I can’t explain why. Was sex always like this? Is this why my parents kept me so sheltered? Because if I knew it would be like this I would never be able to stop? 
“Is it always like this?” I panted trying to regain my strength as I slumped onto his chest. “Was it like this with your other partners?” 
“Gods no, you’re my-” he pauses as if he’s thinking of the right thing to say. “You’re the love of my life. It’s not like this with anyone else.” 
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop needing you Cass,” I say, pressing my lips to his chest already craving the feel of him. 
“I feel the same y/n, I feel the same,” he says, kissing my brow. 
“Take me to bed?” I ask quietly.
“Of course baby,” he chuckles, standing out of the tub and taking me with him. 
I had been sleeping with Cassian for the past three nights after the ball. At first, I tried to sleep in my own bed, ignoring how badly I wanted him to hold me. I didn’t last long, as an hour in I found myself tiptoeing to his bedroom down the hall to crawl under his sheets. Before I could even lift a hand to knock he ripped the door open. Apparently, we both had the same idea. So he swooped me into his arms and tucked us both into bed. 
After that, neither of us even tried to pretend we didn’t want to fall asleep next to one another. 
Cassian dried me off with a fluffy towel, still careful as ever with every touch. After drying himself off he carried me to his bed where we snuggled down beneath the sheets just like we had that first night. 
I took a deep breath, running my fingertips up and down his arms as he spooned me from behind, his breath hot on my neck. As if in response he took a deep breath in, as if to savor me. 
“I can’t tell if I love how you smell like me or if I miss how you always smell like jasmine and amber.” he smiled into the crook of my neck. 
“I like smelling like you,” I laughed snuggling into him more.
Cassian pressed a kiss to my cheek and pulled me impossibly closer to him. As sleep settled deep into my bones I felt him curl a wing around me, like a second layer of protection. At that moment I slept soundly, for no sadistic prince or wicked dream could find me here. 
In that embrace, amidst the warmth and love, I found solace, knowing that in Cassian's arms, no darkness could ever touch me.
Part 7
Taglist: @crystalferret202, @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @mybestfriendmademe, @anxious-study, @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams ,  @sh4nn ,
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reveluving · 1 year
Text
moments that matter ; bruce wayne x batmom reader
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warnings: pure fluff!
a/n: I got nothing to say, I just wanted to give battinson!bruce a try!
check out my batmom m.list!
it's hard for people to believe that he's a married man, let alone a father.
out of everyone in the family, many wonders how bruce had not only proposed to you, but also fathered the former acrobat. at first, they thought its cause the boy lost his parents, just as bruce did. and with dick's more upbeat energy, it's understandable that he likely takes it from you than bruce.
but then, bruce adopts another kid.
and another.
and another.
... and another.
and everyone starts asking themselves if this was all his idea or yours.
oh, if only they knew.
if only they knew your struggle to resist those sad eyes he'd give you.
you just wished the public gave him so much more credit when it comes the kids. you don't think you could even handle the life as a mother without bruce.
and as much as your kids love to joke about bruce's 'teenage phase', one can only imagine the sheer gratefulness they had for him and you.
the perfect balance to this cruel yet sweet world.
it doesn't take long for people to figure out that your children's compassionate side has to come from you, which they weren’t wrong. even bruce himself acknowledged it.
but bruce is anything but heartless, no no. would he even consider taking any of them under his wing if he was? no!
and the idea of fatherhood came easier because you were by his side. so what if he now has eight kids? why would he want to imagine what his life would've been without them?
without the texts from dick, who's all the way in bludhaven, to take breaks?
without jason's interferences when he's outnumbered by a number of gangsters?
without the sounds of tim and damian arguing over the littlest things, only to hilariously end it by shaking hands when you give them 'the eye'?
without attending cass' recital with you, your boys and even alfred, steph, babs and kate as she's the main dancer?
without terry being matt's assistant as the latter tries to treat bruce's so-called ouchies?
without living this life without you?
no. it was impossible to imagine the other bruce wayne.
the bruce wayne he didn't turn out to be.
but hey, speaking of yourself, wanna know a random fact he loves about you?
your style!
whatever your aesthetics may be, he loves you for it! who was he to say otherwise, when he doesn't really take his own into account anyway?
you're in all-black too? that's great! no one's here to judge—not him, not alfred, and certainly not his kids. you're the one able to mix and match like a true professional!
but say your sense of style falls under the bright/pastel/fairycore-like category! gotham's pretty depressing, including the manor itself, so he appreciates it when he's suddenly slapped with a sight of his wife donning her soft pink dress.
bruce finds it endearing that you actually wore the shades he bought for both you and himself. he thought he was being silly at first, wondering if you'd actually wear it, so imagine his surprise when just days after, you decided to match with him when he found the time to take you out to dinner.
he's even more surprised when one day, duke tells him that you've been under the weather because you lost the shades.
instead of waking up to your husband the next day, you find a glasses case on his pillow, complete with a golden ribbon.
he's bought you a new pair, the same kind, but this time, bruce purposely ordered it so that 'mrs wayne' was written next to the frame name.
he comes home, feigning ignorance by raising his brow, though he knew good and well why you were practically blinding him with your smile before you peppered his face with kisses.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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