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assriels · 2 months

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here i go again

pairing: cassian x reader x azriel

summary: your half of the bond snaps and you’re faced with a choice.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: more of cass’s inner monologue speckled with az and reader’s thoughts as well, some brief mentions of sexual content!, angst angst angst

a/n: i truly was not planning on writing a part two but the love that everyone has shown me on the first part has inspired me :’) ty everyone for making my first fic posting so memorable; ALSO because i’m a sucker for happy endings, i will be writing an alternate ending for this story that is not as angsty i promise

(banners by @/cafekitsune!)

part one

When the bond first snapped, Cassian had initially tried to continue on as normal, engaging in his usual banter and friendly affection that your relationship ordinarily dictated. But as the days stretched into weeks and then months, he wasn’t sure he could keep a lid on his emotions for any longer.

Six months, normally a small blip of time in a near-immortal’s life, felt like an eternity. Six months of picking up the scraps of his broken heart was torture of the purest kind. Six months of clinging to every ounce of affection you offered him, playing it over and over in his mind to placate the urges the mating bond so desperately wanted satisfied.

Occasionally, he’d gently tug on that golden string tethering him to you, but he’d be met with an endless, empty void; the bond hadn’t snapped for you. And maybe it never would, Cassian caught himself thinking more times than he’d like. Maybe your love for Azriel was so powerful it overshadowed anything that the mating bond could offer you.

Azriel was your chosen mate and maybe no Cauldron-born matchmaking could override your unyielding loyalty and dedication to the male you spent the last twelve years loving.

Maybe Cassian was destined for loneliness in perpetuity, forced to watch his mate – the one person he loved more than life itself – live in immortality with someone who was not him.

The night of Starfall, Cassian had taken your advice and met Feyre’s friend, a beautiful high fae female who had become a regular at Feyre’s studio. They’d hit it off that night, and eventually spent the night tangled beneath the sheets of Cassian’s massive bed.

And while Cassian couldn’t deny the charming allure and beauty of this female, she wasn’t you. He wanted her, absolutely he did, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t slept with others in the past while his heart belonged truly to you. But it was like the mating bond had imprisoned his desire, reserving it for the one person who could satiate it.

He couldn’t even finish that night, and an ugly mix of humiliation, guilt, and disappointment swirled in his gut for the next few days, even as his one time lover graciously accepted his onslaught of apologies and assured him it was alright, that it happens, that she wasn’t offended. Through it all the bond was screaming at him.

Wrong, wrong, this was all wrong.

Cassian quickly disposed of the notion that he could just ignore the bond after that night. If sex and distraction were going to do nothing to keep his desperate need for you at bay, Cassian was forced to find alternative means for managing this newfound revelation.

And so, despite the brief moments of hope the snapping of the mating bond sparked in him, Cassian resolved to continue his journey of getting over you. Admittedly, though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult, as if the bond was becoming impatient and was spurring him to make bolder and bolder moves towards you.

But Cassian was nothing if not respectful and he couldn’t ever imagine telling you of the bond and forcing your hand to choose between him and his brother. So, he slowly titrated his daily dosage of you, gradually spending less time with and around you in an effort to relieve himself of the aching pain of his longing. He was mindful of his words and actions, not wanting to clue you in to the raging conflict between his mind and his heart; he disguised his purposeful avoidance of you with excuses that he had suddenly become overwhelmingly busy.

It was a tactic he knew wouldn’t last for long, but it might give him enough time to figure out what he should do next.

But ever the keen observer – having picked up a thing or two from spending so much time with the Spymaster of the Night Court – you noticed the change, however slight, in Cassian’s behavior. At first, you had fallen for his ploy; with newborn fatherhood forcing Rhys to be partially out of commission, it made sense that Azriel and Cassian had been busier than usual.

As Nyx grew, however, and both Feyre and Rhys were more adjusted to life with a child, Rhys had resumed his usual duties – but Cassian was still busy as ever.

It only took one passing comment from Azriel for you to begin perseverating on the idea that maybe Cassian was avoiding you. Az had confided in you once about Cassian’s constant denial of his invitations to spend some time together despite the arsenal of ideas that Azriel threw at him.

Drinks at Rita’s? No... A flight around Velaris? No. Lunch with Rhys? No. Training? No.

Azriel lamented that every conversation ended with Cassian hastily making an excuse to exit; it wasn’t like him, and it was beginning to get concerning.

So, you decided to test the theory yourself.

It was a lot more difficult getting Cassian alone than you thought it would be, which was strange in and of itself. Your past with him had lent itself to many occasions where you’d find yourself alone with Cassian on an errand, training, eating meals. But lately, it was like Cassian was a ghost, disappearing as soon as you had your sights on him, seemingly vanishing out of existence before you could even mutter a greeting. It seemed like everywhere you were, Cassian had pressing business elsewhere.

(Once you had walked into the kitchen, and Cassian had left in the middle of making himself a meal, mumbling something about Rhys needing his help, his half cut vegetables abandoned on the counter.)

You had every intention of cornering him with Azriel’s help, but before you could execute your sneaky plan to ambush him during training, you quite literally bumped into him on your way from the library to the dining room; clearly, he hadn’t anticipated that you’d interrupt your usual perusal of the House’s libraries to make yourself a snack.

Cassian fumbled for words, flustered and taken aback at the suddenness of your presence, still unused to the heightened feeling of his emotions around you.

You were about to interrupt his awkward stumbling, but a feeling so visceral, so outrageously all-consuming flooded every nerve in your body and you felt like you would collapse onto the floor. It was like the world had suddenly decided to start spinning in the other direction, scrambling your sensibilities, and the only thing tethering you to your reality was a thin golden string that led you directly to Cassian.

Cassian was your mate? And by the feel of it, the bond had already snapped for him who knows how long ago. Why did he not say anything? How long had he known? What the fuck?

The questions repeated themselves incessantly in your mind before you had the wherewithal to erect the strongest mental shields you could as you made flimsy excuses for why you needed to leave. Funny how, as soon as you had the opportunity to speak to Cassian alone, you were the one spinning white lies to explain your sudden departure.

If Cassian had felt your awareness on his side of the bond, he didn’t let on, only stared bemused after your retreating figure.

You wound through the maze of hallways in the House with such precision that you had to have set a record for how quickly you made your way from the dining room to Azriel’s study; you hadn’t even meant to go there, body habitually routing its way to your lover in moments of distress.

Azriel.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, and you contemplated not telling him or Cassian that you had felt a bond whip into place. But you knew that would be a disservice to all parties involved in this sadistic twist of events.

You would talk to Cassian, have a discussion, figure out what this meant for your friendship and his and Azriel’s brotherhood, but you needed to collect yourself and unscramble the tangled web of thoughts knotted in your mind before you did any of that. You needed to talk to Azriel.

You stood outside his study with your forehead pressed to the door, not yet having the courage to open it.

In the past twelve years you’d been in a relationship with the Shadowsinger, you had many conversations exploring the what if’s of your future. The notion of the mating bond snapping between you and someone else – or him and someone else – had been something you both considered. Neither of you were naive enough to assume that it would be as simple as just choosing each other – what with the intensity of the mating bond – but neither of you really thought that it would happen either, often just assuming that it would snap between the two of you in due time.

You had been so incredibly enamored with each other since the day you met; everything had fallen so beautifully into place that it had been easy to throw all caution to the wind and fall helplessly in love. Mating bond be damned.

You knew that if a bond had snapped between you and anyone else, the choice would be simple. You and Azriel prepared for something like this — the swirling lines of complementary ink on both of your torsos had been proof of that — but never did either of you consider that it would involve the one other person that you both loved almost as much as you loved each other.

You had a long history with Cassian, and though nothing romantic had ever occurred between you, somehow the choice was now infinitely more impossible. It wasn’t difficult to admit that you loved Cassian, you knew him and cherished him for as long as you could remember. But could you love him in the way that the mating bond demanded? Could you love him in the way that he deserved?

Those were questions that you couldn’t answer, too confused as you contemplated the implications of your mate being someone you loved in an entirely different way than you loved Azriel.

So you opened the door to Azriel’s study, seeking safety and refuge with the one person who could help you make sense of this impossible predicament.

One look at you standing in the doorway told Azriel all he needed to know. The time he prayed would never come was finally here. The knit of your eyebrows and the quiver in your lip shattered his usually calm countenance as he tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of dark uncertainty settling in his chest.

The sad, resigned smile that he gave you as he sat at his desk made tears well up in your eyes. You felt guilty and confused and so, so horrible, wondering what must be running through his mind as he looked at you, understanding intuitively that you had found your mate.

And that it wasn’t him.

You wanted to soothe the fears that were so clearly written all over his face, but you couldn’t find the words, afraid that if you opened your mouth nothing but nonsensical blubbering would come out. But you needed to say something, to explain the overly complicated cocktail of emotions roiling in your gut.

However, before you could even begin to string together a coherent sentence, he crossed the room in three long strides, resting his palm against your cheek as his thumb ran a soothing path back and forth across your skin. Azriel leaned down to kiss away the tears that had escaped before pulling your head into his chest.

The comforting warmth of the body you knew so well worked wonders on your nerves, your mind already clearing itself enough to tame some of the turmoil that had overtaken your consciousness. You allowed yourself to focus only on the feel of the strong planes of his body against yours, losing yourself in the luxury of his embrace.

“It’s Cassian,” you said after a few long minutes.

Though your words were muffled into the fabric of his shirt, Azriel had heard them loud and clear. He almost laughed at the sheer atrocity of it all; how could the Cauldron be so spiteful? You — the greatest love he’s ever known — and Cassian — his brother in all but blood — were mates.

He felt as though the Mother had taken Truthteller and carved a path through his chest, leaving him to piece together the vestiges of his heart after she had stolen you from it. But he wouldn’t let himself fall apart, not when you were so clearly in need of his unwavering stability.

“Does he know?” Azriel cursed the way his voice betrayed him; it sounded so small as it broke over each syllable of his question.

You tightened your arms around his waist, anchoring yourself to the steady thrum of his familiar heartbeat, “Sort of. It’s snapped for him, but I don’t think he’s realized that I know yet.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and somber. Neither of you said anything, only holding each other as a gentle breeze wafted through Azriel’s open windows. You wondered again what must have been going through his mind, wondered if he was as scared and sad and torn as you were. By the way his fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as his hand ran up and down the length of your spine, you concluded that he was.

Azriel wanted to stay like this forever, savor the moments before either of you had to make a decision. Infinite possibilities raced through his mind, and his heart warred with itself.

He loved you — gods, did he love you — but he also loved Cassian. Knew that Cassian was an honorable male, had a suspicion for years that Cassian loved you the same way that he did. But even then, Azriel wanted to be selfish. Wanted to beg you to choose him because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure what would happen to him.

You had been his lifeline since the day he met you; he didn’t think it was possible to love and be loved the way you had shown him, and he greedily didn’t want to live a life without it.

But he loved you so fiercely that your happiness was paramount, your decision to choose for yourself was of utmost importance and, arguably, was the only thing that mattered in this moment. Azriel couldn’t help but think, though, that you deserved the love and connection of a mate, deserved the love he’d seen blossom beautifully between Rhys and Feyre, and if that meant you’d leave him, then he was glad it would be for Cassian.

“I don’t know what to do,” came your small, rasped confession. You pulled your head away from his chest to look up at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “Tell me what to do, Az.”

He gave you that sad smile again (and you quickly decided you hated that you were the cause of this forlorn look of his), his scarred hand coming up to tame the wisps of hair that had clung to your forehead, “I can’t, love.”

After a beat he added, “I think you should tell him, though. Soon. He deserves to know, and you both deserve the chance to…talk about it.”

You knew what he was dancing around saying, knew that he meant he would let you go if you decided that you wanted this mateship with Cassian rather than what you had with him. That it was all in your hands, and entirely your decision. Your heart twisted painfully as you were confronted with the bottomless depth of Azriel’s love for you; he would sacrifice his love and happiness for yours without contest.

“Az…”

“You have me,” he started again, his hazel eyes burning into yours with such unwavering loving conviction you were glad his arms were around you to keep your knees from buckling. “No matter what you choose, you have me. Mating bond or not, I’m yours. If you want to see where things go with Cassian, you should. I’d wait for you…even if you decided you’d never come back to me, I'd wait.”

His heartfelt confession made another round of tears burn your eyes as you nodded. You cradled his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. Both of you savored the familiar feel of your lips moving together in a practiced dance.

“I love you.”

Azriel knew you meant it; even if you chose to explore your newfound mating bond, knew that nothing could ever take from him the parts of yourself you allowed him the privilege of loving. And so he said it back, insistently ignoring the gnawing worry that it would be the last time.

It wasn’t that much of a shock when Cassian felt you tug oh-so-tentatively on the bond the week after he ran into you in the dining room. He had immediately noticed your shift in demeanor, the heat creeping up your cheeks as you made a beeline out of the room despite having just entered. He had felt something change on his end of the bond the moment your skirts brushed past him in your rush to exit. The bond had finally snapped for you, but he couldn’t reach you, your consciousness locked behind steel-reinforced shields.

A rush of conflicting emotion had erupted in Cassian’s chest at the realization, and it took every ounce of self discipline he had to not chase you down. He knew you would need time, would probably want to tell Azriel before anything else, so he waited and ignored the incessant nagging of the bond to seek you out. He would do this right, would leave the decision entirely up to you despite his overwhelming desire for you to choose him.

Truthfully, Cassian didn’t think that you’d open up on your end so soon after it had snapped, and he tried not to read too much into what that could mean. Instead, when he felt that gentle pulse from you beneath his ribcage, he tugged back in acknowledgement.

Cass…?

Your voice flooded every inch of his head and it was sheer bliss to feel you so intimately intertwined with his mind.

Hey, you.

He replied, heart thundering so loudly he worried that you’d hear it.

Can we talk? Meet on the balcony near the library? Maybe in an hour?

Cassian had never been so anxious, had never been so uncertain and nervous and excited in his life. Regardless of what happened — of what you said — he just wanted to see you. His avoidance of you these past few months was nothing short of torture, and just the thought of being near you again in a way that meant something sent Cassian’s entire being into a new plane of happiness.

Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.

You didn’t reply, but he felt you send a wave of fondness and appreciation towards him; Cassian felt like a starved man who had just been offered a loaf of bread.

He had intended on getting at least a little bit of work done in the hour before he was set to meet you, but Cassian found his mind drifting to thoughts of you as he flew around the perimeter of Velaris, running through scenario after scenario that could happen. His excitement was overshadowed by the looming possibility that you would reject the bond, and just the thought of it sent bile churning in his gut.

Cassian knew how much love existed between you and Azriel, had seen firsthand how much you both had committed yourselves to each other. Part of him felt guilty; Azriel was his brother and he didn’t want to be the thing that stood in Az’s way of keeping the love that everyone knew he deserved and that you so willingly provided. Cassian’s mind was twisting circles around itself as he thought about how this would end. Because while Azriel loved you, so did Cassian. And he would be a fool to give up so easily on the opportunity to show you just how much you meant to him, how much he adored you.

Before Cassian could make any headway in finding a solution for this impossible situation, it was time for him to meet you. So, Cassian fluttered his wings and made his way towards the House.

You were already standing on the balcony when he landed, pacing as you alternated between worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and biting your nails. Even with confusion marring your features, the golden hour light of the sun encased you in such warmth, that you glowed luminescent, and he wanted to freeze this moment and remember it forever.

Cassian tamed the urge to kiss the worry away from your raw, swollen lips and massage the crease out from between your brows, and instead said, “Hey.”

You looked up at him and stole the breath straight from his lungs with the radiance of your smile, though dimmed no doubt by the anxiety that plagued you.

“Cass,” you started, soft and the slightest bit hesitant. “Hi.”

An awkward silence that never existed between you two settled in the air now, neither of you wanting to be the one to broach the subject you knew tormented you both day and night. You had almost backed out of having this conversation three times within the past hour, but you knew that it needed to be done. For all of your sakes.

“We’re mates,” you said, and Cassian didn’t miss the way your statement sounded half like a question, as if you still couldn’t wrap your head around the notion. He nodded, stating more definitively, “We’re mates.”

Again, another silence permeated the too large space between you and Cassian thought he’d hurl himself off the ledge of the balcony to avoid the palpable awkwardness of it all. This certainly wasn’t what he pictured in his mind when you both finally had the conversation about your mateship.

You cleared your throat stiffly, not quite meeting his eyes as a cute blush betrayed your serious countenance, “I’m not really sure what to do, Cass. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for the past week and��I just don’t– I don’t know what to do. I really just–”

Cassian aptly noted the way your emotions showed so clearly on your face. Maybe it was because he could also feel you unwittingly sending them down the bond, but he could tell that your stuttering and frantic fumbling for words was wrought from a week’s worth of anxiety and spinning your thoughts over and over in your mind, probably similar to the way that he had been doing for the past six months. He hated thinking that you felt even a fraction of the confusion and pain that he had endured for the past half a year.

Slowly, in the face of your pain stricken confusion, Cassian's resolve to fight for your affections was crumbling.

Your eyes finally met his, and the glassy sheen of tears that marred their usual clarity made Cassian’s heart lurch; how he wished you would never look at him with such an anguished expression on your face.

“I care about you, Cassian. I care about you so, so much,” you said, and he knew you meant it. He saw it in the way your brows twisted together in earnest and the way your fists clenched at your sides determinedly. He could feel the conflict storming beneath your ribs and wanted to do everything he could to chase it away, make it so that you never faced uncertainty for the rest of your days. But he let you continue, his pulse thundering so loudly he almost couldn’t hear you over the rush of his own blood.

“I just–” you trailed off then, unable to voice your thoughts as they were a tangled mess roiling around in your head, ricocheting off the walls of your skull.

What were you even going to say? You thought you had made a decision, thought you would tell him that you couldn’t accept the bond, that you could never leave Azriel like this. But one look at Cassian and the hope he so desperately tried to mask in his eyes left you floundering, the mating bond begging you not to sever it, not to hurt Cassian. You didn’t expect to be at such an impasse; how were you supposed to choose between instinct and desire? Love and connection? Weren’t they all one in the same anyway? But if they were, how could they be split between the two most important people in your life? What a cruel, cruel fate you all had been subjected to.

Cassian watched as you puzzled through your thoughts, and his desire to ease your worry spurred him to action. He knew the decision would tear you apart, would obliterate not only your relationship with Azriel, but his too, even though he knew Azriel would never hold something like this against either of you. But Cassian loved you both too much to tip the scales in his favor at the cost of ruining his family, of hurting you, of forcing you to make an impossible decision and living with the regret of hurting them both.

So, he chose for you. Despite the way that his heart screamed at him, begged him not to reject the bond, he did anyway. He used every ounce of self control he had to hold himself together and remind himself over and over again that this was the right decision. The future with you that Cassian so desperately wanted was a hair’s breadth away, and for a few precious seconds he allowed himself to sit in the bliss of the in-between, pretending that his next words would be I love you instead of—

“I don’t think we should do this, Y/N,” he said, forcing his voice not to shake, his eyes not to water with the pain of pushing you away. “Maybe…maybe the Cauldron got it wrong.”

He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Because how could the Cauldron get it wrong when being near you, loving you felt so right?

The look you gave him at his words was a mixture of relief and…something else that he couldn’t place. Was it disappointment? Regret?

Cassian didn’t let himself dwell on it further because if he did, and if he convinced himself that he saw even a glimmer of disappointment at his rejection in your eyes, he’d take everything back and say fuck it, I love you, give me a chance. So he averted his gaze as you took his hand, iron willpower crumbling at the sweet euphoria that filled his chest at your touch.

“Cassian,” you rarely used his full name, but you did now and he looked up at you and into your eyes. When he finally met your gaze again, you pulled him into a wonderfully tight hug, “Thank you. I– thank you.”

Despite the searing sting your words left on his heart, Cassian let himself pretend that you were his for the last time as he reveled in your embrace, holding you so steadily, so delicately that if you didn’t know he loved you before, you must have known now.

You pulled away after a few moments but kept him close, holding his face in your hands as your thumbs brushed the apples of his cheeks, eyes searching his face in earnest, “You know I’ll always love you right, Cass?”

You knew it was a cruel and selfish thing to say to him, especially because you could feel the echo of his true feelings down the bond that was slowly, painfully weakening at Cassian’s unwanted rejection. But you needed him to know, needed him to understand more than anything that your love for him transcended the romantic and was existing in a plane reserved solely for him. You wanted him to know that you couldn’t ever thank him or repay him for his sacrifice born out of pure unadulterated love for you; you only wished you could do the same for him.

Briefly, you concluded that — in an alternate universe, another life — Cassian would have loved you with a ferocity that put the heat of the sun to shame. But in this life, you couldn’t tear your heart away from Azriel; your love for him was built on the foundational elements of trust and choice, and you would pick him time and time again.

In this life, you would be greedy and accept Cassian’s sacrifice of his own love for yours, and you would damn well make sure it was worth it.

As if he could read your thoughts — and maybe he could now — he nodded and pulled you in again with a parting kiss to your forehead.

“I know," he said, closing his eyes and leaning in to your touch, savoring the fleeting moments that you had been so close to being his, telling himself that he was grateful for the love that you would offer him, even if it wasn't in the way he so desperately desired. "I know."

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2aceofspades · 1 year

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Sometime in the future...

Very very super duper massively inspired by @somerandomdudelmao's apocalyptic comic series and art in general...making me feel all the feels in the best way. I hope I did Raph justice...I just love how much space he takes up.

Cass...you are truly brilliant and an inspiration. Thank you for everything you share with this fandom <3

#rottmnt #future leo #future raph #future donnie #peepaw leo #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt casey jr #rise fanart

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confused-wanderer · 8 months

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Alfred is badass and has unuasual skills even for a batfam member.

Inspired by pandaredd’s skit where Alfred says “Bond wishes he was me”

The man is the caretaker of the bat family, he has raised every damn member, and has seen more than his fair share of wars, doomsdays and worse. He is a butler. And god knows what else in the spare time. All I imagine is that if a teenage Bruce looks up at Alfred and whispers he wants to train, Alfred might be the one who gives him contacts.

Alfred:

Bruce:

Alfred: .. wait here master Bruce, I know you won’t even listen to what I’m saying so I will let you learn the arts. Only under one condition though, I choose your trainers

Teenage Bruce: Alfred, whom would you-

Alfred *already on the phone* : Hello there Lee

Teenage Bruce *wide eyes* *mouthing* : Rock Lee??

Alfred *scoffing* : what world do you think we live in! Be more realistic Master Bruce.

Bruce: .. so who is it?

Alfred: Bruce Lee.

The scariest thing about the butler is that he will take you apart in less than a blow, and he doesn’t even need weapons. He will however use them just for fun.He can still hear if Bruce or any of the batfamily sneaks around, he’s been the only one who somehow knew Cass was in the room and offered her snacks while she was hanging upside down from the ceiling in the pitch black and overall has better instincts to locate any of them in the mansion than a GPS tracking system.

When supervillains, nosy reporters or even crooks try to break into the Manor, the fact that no one installed a security system should’ve really been a warning point that the Waynes had other.. deadlier security.

By the time Jason comes home he sees Alfred cleaning up the carpet, but doesn’t miss the wrinkled edge of the sleeve. It is only then when he looks to the other room and the criminals are all sitting in time out, each a truly remarkable shade of blue, black purple and green he’s never seen in real life. And none of them were even bleeding.

Alfred also has insanely fast reflexes. And to everyone surprise, he is an bloody good shot. Green arrow was once testing out a new arrow and it accidentally whizzed past the target and almost hit the cat when out of nowhere Alfred caught it and snapped it with one hand. And then proceeded to borrow a pistol and shoot the target while walking to the other side of the room, not even sparing a glance at the bullseye he had hit. All the while holding a tray of glass bottles that hadn’t moved a single inch.

He’s given advice to Jason on how to make explosives out of everything and nothing, taught Dick how to cut a tree in half with one kick, showed Stephanie how to always win Russian Roulette, guided Damian on how to break bones without ever leaving traces, taught Tim how to mimic someone’s voice and be scarily accurate, and so much more. Once on live television the world saw Alfred eat three cookies and refuse to pass them to Bruce Wayne before saying “They’ve been poisoned” and throwing them away. A few people swear they heard him mouth “bloody amateurs” afterwards and he insisted he was fine, stating that he was already “used to it.”

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And that is why the bat cave is a safer option for batman’s enemies than the mansion. Because if you were caught by the butler, just know that god has already forsaken you.

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shalaaex · 5 months

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Thank you cass, your series has really created such a happy little fandom that I find is not my safe space. You have inspired thousands of artists and if it weren’t for you. A lot of people wouldn’t be where they are now. I’m excited to see what else you make, rise or not. You’re an incredible person and I’m glad I was able to follow along this comic. It truly gave me something to look forward to.

Thank you, cass

‘I’ll be grinding a conclusion animatic…

#rottmnt #cass apocalypse series #cass apocalyptic au #I mean it when I say that cass apocalypse means so much to me #it was the first rise comic I started reading #I’m so glad I stumbled across you and tapa #I was going to do a university degree in psychological science knowing it’s not what I want. because I want to be an animator #but because of you and tap #I finally gained the courage to do what I want #and now I found comfort in animating and making things for people.#your little dynamic makes me so happy and I feel honoured to have been able to witness it #thank you #from the bottom of my heart. thanks you.

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truths33k3r4 · 5 months

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Me and a close friend were chatting about the ending of Cass Apocalyptic Series... And I wanted to say a little something about it. :)

C.A.S was one of the biggest reasons that I found my way into the TMNT Fandom here on Tumblr and Youtube. It all began with me finding a dub of the comic, and eventually, I got on Tumblr and read it for myself. :)

C.A.S was one of the first TMNT drawings I've ever drawn.. Or- rather, one of the first that I traced and colored over. But these drawings led me to create my OWN story and AU.

So, I want to thank @somerandomdudelmao, for creating the amazing, chilling, hilarious, and devastating comic series. So many times I burst out laughing. So many times my heart twisted and pulsed for the wonderful characters. The story was incredible and the art, even more so. :)

THANK YOU CASS. THANK YOU FOR BEING AN INSPIRATION. :) I wish you the best of luck with your next projects!

~ A super grateful fan, who will truly miss your comic with all her heart,

Melissa

#tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fandom #cass apocalypse fanart #cas fanart tag #goodbye CAS #Finished but never forgotten #Thank you #Good luck with future WIPS :)

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writingsbychlo · 1 year

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by moonlight | azriel

summary; you come home after a long few days away.

word count; 3804

notes; I got suddenly inspired by last nights cass fic. what can I say? I’ve been wanting to write for two weeks with no energy or time, I’m so happy to finally be able to.

As the night swept away from around you, you turned, finding that Rhys was already gone as you twisted. A simple drop off, that had been it, and the dark and stars were swallowing him once again. You couldn't blame him, it was the middle of the night, and he was practically falling asleep at his desk when you’d found him. You were almost falling asleep where you stood.

Light still filled the rooms, spilling out into the inky darkness between pale pillars, and you followed the muffled voices through to the dining room. As you entered, two heads snapped up from the table, matching smiles painting across their faces as they took you in. Cassian and Nesta were sitting at the table, a half-eaten board of cheese and crackers, two empty wine bottles and a third broken into, cards scattered around them.

“You’re home early!” Nesta perked up, and you shrugged, dropping your bag down from your shoulder to sit at your feet as you wandered over. Leaning your hip on the table, the yawn threatening to break free from you was hardly contained.

“I worked hard to get it done quicker, you know how I hate going away for too long.” You truly did, the worst part about your job was the days away on end on missions, too silent and too lonely on missions as you spent time away from your family.

“That’s how I trained ya’.” Cassian winked, your brows raising at him as you reached out to pluck a cracker and a slice of cheese from the platter, nibbling on the end of it.

“How you trained me?” You flicked a loose piece of cracker at him, and it bounced off his forehead, crumbling into pieces that rained down onto his lap as his mate snickered.

“Alright, how we trained each other.” His amendment was good enough, you were too tired to argue anything else, and he beamed at the nod you gave. Nesta chuckled again, smirking as she laid down another card on the set-up before you both. Cassian took it in, eyes widening a fraction, and then he let out a filthy curse under his breath. Nesta kicked his shin under the table, but the prideful expression only grew at his frustration.

Swallowing down the snack, you leaned over his shoulder, examining his card through sleep-blurred eyes and an exhaustion-muddled mind. You pointed to the King of Hearts, and he was quick to lay it down. After a half-second, Nesta was letting out an equally terrible curse and Cassian kicked her ankle this time. She kicked back.

“How are you still beating us at this game when you can barely stand up?” Your friend was not happy, her brows pulling tight as she concentrated harder on the strategy game before herself.

“Nesta’s just mad because now in one move, I’m winning!” She stuck her tongue out at you and Cassian. “There’s some tea in the kitchen, go get a mug and go to bed. You look exhausted.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear. Always the charmer, Cass.” Despite it all, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as one arm wrapped around your waist to squeeze you to his side in a hug, eyes never leaving the cards. You shifted, kicking your bag to the other side of the table and pressing a matching kiss to the top of Nesta’s head. She puckered her lips and blew a kiss back, equally focused. Scooping up your bag and throwing it over one sore shoulder, you tried not to groan.

“Goodnight, you two.”

“Night!” They sang in unison as you walked away, headed to the kitchen as a pot of hot tea called your name. “Y’know, for that comment before, you’ll never have enough moves to win later tonight, now.”

You smirked at their conversation as it faded into the background. The kitchen smelled like brewed herbs that made the cloudy tiredness of your head only thicken, your eyes feeling so heavy you could fall asleep where you stood. Grabbing two mugs from the top shelf, you poured hot tea into both, inhaling the streams of swirling steam and feeling a little tension melt from your body.

A shower, that's what you needed before you could sleep. You were stiff and sore and achy, and a hot shower would release all of that before you could get a good night’s sleep. Maybe the whole day’s sleep as well. You’d need it.

Making your way back through the corridors, every step closer and closer to your mate made your heart swell, feeling as though it was going to burst right out of your heart. Though you’d never put your walls up against him, you both knew that the bond had to stay quiet and cold and borderline dead when you were on missions, and one of your favourite parts of coming home was getting to feel it come back to life, feeling your chest spark back to life and the warmth of his love lighting you up.

Currently, the feeling inside of your chest was utter content relaxation, steady and soft and barely there. Not the usual influx of emotions, passionate and strong and heady like usual, the kind you got when he was tired, asleep, or drunk. Your suspicions were only confirmed as you used your elbow to open the door quietly, the door scraping across soft carpet to reveal the large bedroom you shared.

Laying on the huge Illyrian-accommodating bed, spread out across the mattress was your lover, wings folded away behind his back as he sat nestled among the piles of pillows. Plump lips parted, he was taking steady breaths, hair messy and glasses askew across his face. He was most definitely asleep, his shadows were practically motionless and they spread out across the carpet to all corners of the room, fading back to the places the candlelight didn’t reach as he had no use for them. He didn’t even flinch when the door clicked shut.

Putting down your bag, it was abandoned to simply be sorted tomorrow instead, and the two mugs were left on the countertop by the door. Kneeling down, your knees ached as you undid the laces on your boots, taking off your boots one-by-one and flexing your toes, wiggling them now that they were free. Placing them by the much larger pair sitting by the door, the image made you smile. You hang your jacket on the coat rack next to his, and padded near-silently across the room with one hot-ceramic mug in hand to get your robe.

Azriel didn’t stir, not as you got undressed, or put on your robe, not even as you brushed the hair away from his forehead as you leaned over him. The curl fell back down over the rim of his glasses, and you chuckled at the untameable hair. Lifting them off of his face gently, he let out a particularly rough sigh, nose scrunching as you took the glasses away, folding them up and putting them on the bedside table, atop the book he was currently working his way through.

No shirt, only a pair of black boxers as he’d obviously fallen asleep halfway through his evening plans. Golden skin mottled with pink scars and tattoos and the occasional hidden mole. He was like artwork, a pretty mess all for you. Bed-rumpled hair, pouty lips and candlelight flickering through the room and making every hard line and dip of his body seem emphasised.

Gods, he was a work of art.

He was your work of art. Your love, your mess, your man to take care of.

Next, you gathered up the papers scattered around him and his pens, clearing everything from the covers to the messy surface of his desk, and making a note to get him to tidy it up tomorrow before he got stressed. The curl was back, and you brushed it away, leaving a kiss on his forehead before it fell right back. He was so beautiful, but without those stress lines marring his pretty smile and his brows pulled tight together, he was ethereal. Taking a moment to appreciate it, you ran your finger along one cheekbone, and down the bridge of his nose.

“I love you.”

He huffed a little in his sleep, like his soul had heard yours. Pulling the covers up from the other side of the bed, your side, you cleared them away, before scooping your arms up underneath his body. With a grunt and a strain that ricocheted through your entire body, you rolled him over, all six-foot-five of Illyrian goodness until he was flopping onto his stomach, cheek pressed into the new pillow and he shuffled to pull it closer to his chest subconsciously.

He was tense, you could tell from the still-tight tuck of his wings to his back, crumpled from how he’d fallen asleep, and the taut muscles along his body. With a hand settling along mole-speckled skin between his shoulder blades, you rubbed lightly in circles, pressure building as you lowered along his spine. Like magic, as they always did, his wings drooped dramatically, spreading out along the bed and filling the space, his entire body all but melting into the bed, a trick spot on his body that always released everything he was holding onto.

Such a burst of love exploded within your chest that your throat felt tight and your eyes almost watered, and you rubbed at your chest, trying to contain the feeling within you lest it wake him up. It would be something he’d never let you live down if you woke him up being too in love with him. Your cheeks ached from the smile on your face, but you could live with that.

You were tempted to say screw it all, to crawl into bed beside him, tuck yourself under one of those wings, under one of his arms, to kiss at his jaw and cheeks until he woke up and tugged you close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his legs would tangle with your own and the bump of his heart against his chest that would match your own beat for beat. You trembled a little, arms wrapping around yourself as you took a deep breath.

No. If you didn’t have a hot shower now, you’d be locked up and tense all week, and you hated that feeling. If you weren’t going to stretch it all out, you at least had to shower. Plus, you were pretty sure there was still mud in your hair and sweat coating your body. Taking your mug of tea with you after tucking the blankets up and around his body, you made your way to the bathroom.

It was too bright, even with only one faelight lit, and you bit back a groan at the glare of pearly white tiles and marble countertops. Stripping off the robe and leaving it on the hook on the back of the half-closed door, you turned on the shower, leaving it to heat up as steam began pouring out. Another swig of tea, and you were untangling your hair from the right braids you wore to keep it contained and out of your face while you worked.

The rest of the bathroom felt cold as steam swirled out, surrounding you in delicate twists the way shadows normally would, affectionate and sweet and loving. The warmth they offered was much like that of Azriel’s touch. The sooner you were showered and clean, the sooner you were curling up beside him in bed.

That was the only motivation you had for stepping under the stream of water, eyes closing as you let the warmth pour over you, soaking you from head to toe and washing away the awful grime and dirt that felt like it had been building on your skin for years. It eased a sigh from you, your body finally slumping from the tight lines it held, your arms feeling heavy as they scrubbed at your hair, washed off your body, conditioned and cleaned until you felt brand-new once again.

As your face tipped back up into the water, heat beating down onto you, arms snaked around your waist. You jumped a little, and Azriel, silent as always, plastered himself to your back as he climbed into the shower with you. Your hands fell to muscle-bound forearms which were sealed around your waist, squeezing lightly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

Turning in his tight hold, his crossed arms fell to sit in the small of your back instead, your cheek pressing to his chest, arms wrapping around him equally as tightly as water now poured down your back instead. You didn’t need to speak, to say anything, the calming feel of one calloused hand running up and down your back was more than enough. His own cheek came down to rest on the top of your head, chest inflating with a deep breath underneath you, brushing the top of your head as he exhaled.

Shaking out his wings, water droplets bounced off of them, flying out and spattering across the tiles, the mirror, and the floor, before they were curling protectively around you, blocking out some of the harsh light you were squinting against. You stroked the bond within your chest appreciatively, and he nudged his nose against your temple in return. Never one for many words, but he always managed to make you feel like the centre of his world.

You lingered a while longer, it could have been minutes or hours, you lost track of time while clinging to him, before he reached out to switch off the shower behind your body. Retracting one wing at a time, he pulled back, stepping out of the cubicle and running a fluffy towel over his body, before turning to face you. Reaching out, he cleaned down one leg at a time, drying you off as you balanced on his shoulders, before he was drying his way up. Fluffy cotton that made you dream of your bed, and he wrapped it around your shoulders, guiding you to the sink.

He tugged his boxers back on, pulling wet strands of hair over your shoulders and squeezing them dry with the towel as you began to slowly apply skincare. He reached out, picking up your abandoned mug and sniffling at the contents, humming appreciatively and taking a swig. His eyes were closer to shut than open, much like your own, night hanging outside and tempting you both back into bed. Even the sky was dark tonight, clouds hanging overhead, as though even the stars were sleeping tonight.

Tugging at the damp strands and separating them out, he combed through, and rubbed oils and products through your hair as he went, until they were smooth and clean and you had one less job to do. As soon as he had finished, he was leaning in, pressing a kiss to your neck, face burying into the crook as you leaned back into him.

“Shall we go to bed now?”

“Mhm.” Muffled by a yawn you tried to cover, the words broke off into a sharp giggle as Azriel leaned down to scoop you up under your legs, one hand supporting your back as he carried you back to the bedroom. The lights went out automatically behind you, and only the golden glow of a candle almost burned out was left flickering to light you both up. He was smirking tiredly, and he nuzzled at your cheek, pressing a kiss there as he walked.

You almost made it, your arms looped around his neck to play with the curls at the base of his neck, when he stumbled. Tripping over his own feet as his feet fluttered, the two of you tumbled down onto the bed, your body splaying out across it before he landed on top of you, only his wings bracing his fall, and your laughter was mixed together as you tangled in the sheets.

“So elegant, spymaster.” He only huffed at your teasing, dragging himself up weakly and resting his cheek against your chest, the weight of him pressing you into the bed, a weight you’d missed so terribly while you were away.

“You’re home early.”

“What can I say, I missed you.” He smiled against your skin, pressing a kiss to the spot above your heart.

“You should have told me, sent a message, or something. I’d have stayed up for you.”

“I didn’t want you to stay up, I want you to rest. Gods know you need it, sometimes.” If there was one single flaw Azriel had, it was that he tended to push himself to the limits whenever constantly, with no concern for his health. You’d known him to go days without real sleep before almost collapsing, and maybe he was working on it now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have rough patches. Your fingers dragged through his hair again. “I’m sorry I woke you, I tried to be quiet.”

“You were.” Another kiss to your collarbone, and he reached up until his face was resting within your neck. “I woke up because I felt you. I always know when you're near me, my love. I missed you, too.”

Your cheeks warmed, and it never ceased to amaze you how he could always make you feel like those first few months of your relationship, no matter how many years passed. “What were you working on?”

He jolted slightly, as though he’d fallen asleep again during that lull in the conversation, and he sniffled as he rose back to consciousness. Your hands moved from his hair, rubbing along his shoulders and his arms where they wrapped around you, a silent apology. “Hm?”

“I just asked what you were working on, that’s all.” Your whisper dropped even lower, your nails running lightly along his skin and he shuddered happily at the feeling, delicate scratches making goosebumps rise. A bloom of bliss unfurled in your chest, his hand coming up to rub over the exact spot, like he knew just where his feelings settled in your heart.

“Oh.. just some of your mission reports, so you don’t have to do as much paperwork.” His shoulders moved in what you could only assume was a shrugging motion, diluted drowsily. “I did what I could, but you still have to do all the brief ‘n’ stuff.”

Your smile was beyond your control, hidden in his hair as you pressed your face into the top of his head, sighing happily at him. As you kissed his hair, he yawned.

“Gods, I hate being away from you.” The words were carried on the happiest of tones, a kind of honey-sweet voice he only ever brought out in moments like these. Laced with tenderness and vulnerability and love, it was the kind of drug you’d become addicted to from the very first time.

“I’m home now.”

Azriel hummed, nodding. “Now stay forever.”

“What about your missions, huh? When you go again?” Azriel’s head shook this time, or as best it could with his face in your neck, and one scarred hand came out to adjust your grip on him, guiding one hand back up to his hair not-so-subtly. You did as asked, fingers tangling in messy onyx locks, rubbing at his scalp once again.

“No. No more missions. We’ll just live in this bed forever.”

“Yeah? What about food and drink?” These were the moods you loved with your mate, when the last of his walls came down, when the silly side of himself, the childish side he’d never been able to indulge in came out. Playful and loving and needy, it was your favourite part of his soul to have unlocked.

“We have that half-drunk tea in the bathroom. We’ll survive.”

You could only smile, eyes rolling fondly, and silence took over once again. Dragging himself up, he lay down by your side instead now, legs tangling with yours, a wing settling across your body as his fingers found your hips, settling over the bare skin and sliding around to sit at the top of your ass. His large hands stretched out, covering your lower back too, tugging you closer until your chests were pressed together.

You tilted your head enough to blow out the candle beside the bed, two of his fingers quickly turning your face back to him, and he leaned in, a soft kiss pressed to your lips. It was the final piece, slotting back to you as you came home, to him, to love, your lips working slowly together in a kiss that said it all.

Welcome home.

I missed you.

I love you.

A whole conversation without words as your hand sat on his cheek, as his wing settling over your body just the way you’d wanted it, and you snuggled into the feeling of him. He pulled back, and you chased closer, catching his lips once again, his sigh spanning across your skin as his face twisted. His tongue smoothed slowly over your lower lip, begging for access, pleading for more, and you let him.

Slow, sweet, sensual. Every part of your body touched some part of him outside, as his very presence filled you from your heart, inside to out. He grunted, your hand smoothing down his chest, muscles tensing under your fingers, until you were both panting, pulling away for desperate drags of breath into your lungs.

Your thumb swept over his lips, wiping away the kiss as he smiled, nudging back in until you were nose to nose.

Silence filled the room as soon as darkness did, only his steady deep breaths and the occasional rustle of his wings when he twitched to break the all-encompassing quiet.

It was you who flinched this time, when he spoke; “D’you see Cass and Nesta on your way in?”

“I did.” You couldn't help it, leaning in to place another kiss on his lips, another, starving for his love as he chuckled, squeezing your hip in warning. You were both tired, you were both almost falling asleep, and if you kept it up, neither of you would see a wink before the sun was rising. The second squeeze was a promise, a promise as his hand smoothed up your waist, thumb running under your bare breast without going further, a promise that tomorrow night you’d get everything and more. “They were playing cards.”

Your throat was raspy and cracked, and it only helped that his was equally affected - deep and rumbly - and he replied. “They’re practising for game night next week.”

“We’re still gonna’ kick their asses.”

“‘Course we are, love. We’re unstoppable.”

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel/you #azriel/reader #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar/you #acotar/reader #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses

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rahhhbananas · 1 year

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✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. the batfamily

summary. Y/n goes through an anguishing breakup right before a gala aka Bruce is done with any and everything that involves his children

warning(s). He/Him pronouns, breakups, inspired by “Barbie’s Torture” scene from Toy Story!

a/n. I know the Batfamily isn’t as fluffy as I make them out to be, but I need something sweet to settle my mind 🤷🏽

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7... 1, 2, 3, 4..."

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows. It was necessary to do a headcount before and after a gala, but he seemed to be missing one of the kids. "Dick, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Cass, Duke, and Damian... Barbras at the office finishing up a case, so..." Bruce muttered, “I believe we’re missing Master Y/n.” Alfred inquired. Realization dawning upon him that Y/n was nowhere to be found. His eyebrows furrowed even deeper. "I thought I told you all to be down here at 8:32..." Bruce grumbled to himself as he ascended the stairs, his pace quickening when he heard screams and cries emanating from a room.

The door swung open, revealing Y/n amidst a collection of clothes hanging from a rack, surrounded by some of the torn garments. He held a purple shimmery vest in his hands. "Y/n, baby, please! Not the vintage purple vest. I said I was sorry!" pleaded Y/n's ex-boyfriend, Ken.

"Sorry, Kenny boy, but apologies won't cut it!" Y/n snapped, tearing the jacket in two, a pained smile stretching across his face. Tear stains marred his cheeks. "You should've thought about your tacky outfits before you cheated on me and messed with my friend!" Y/n flung the torn clothing at Ken, who was tied to what appeared to be a medieval stretcher, clad only in heart-patterned boxers. Bruce stood at the doorway, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "Y/n..." he uttered. Y/n swiftly turned his gaze towards the door, his tense smile morphing into a pout, tears welling up in his eyes. "Dadddddddd!" Y/n cried, rushing into his father's embrace. "Y/n... what is going on?" Bruce returned the embrace, cautiously surveying the room for any more surprises. "Ken cheated on me, a-and he called Karen a bitch! I'm Gotham's Barbie, n-no one disrespects me or my friends!" Y/n's pout vanished, replaced by anger and distress in his eyes. Bruce glanced at Y/n's outfit—a white suit with pink accents, and pearl earrings. "Umm..." Bruce blinked repeatedly, trying to recall why he had come upstairs. "The gala, we have to go. W-we can sort this out later." Bruce gently guided Y/n out of the room, stealing a glance back at the bound Ken before closing the door.

The siblings lounged on the couch, waiting for Bruce to come downstairs with their brother. It had already been 20 minutes since Bruce left. "Do we even have to go to the stupid gala? I mean, we're probably hella late..." Jason chimed in, playing with Dick's kendama. "Honestly, I don't even know. I'd be fine staying here and binging one of Y/n's movies," Dick commented, looking at his brother. "I'd never be bored enough to watch all of Y/n's movies," Tim added.

"What? Why not! Y/n's movies are amazing, especially the one where he's in the apocalypse!" Stephanie exclaimed, leaping from her spot on the floor. Damian hummed in agreement, "I like those, but his aquatic ones are even better. Besides, it's about something he truly enjoys..." Titus barked in apparent agreement. "Woah, woah, woah. His high school drama movies are a hundred times better than all of those combined!" Jason interjected, discarding the kendama as his interest waned. "Jason!" Dick shouted, diving to catch the toy he had been eagerly waiting for (another story for another time). And everyone protested, disagreeing with Jason's opinion. Their debate was abruptly interrupted by a boisterous voice exclaiming, "We're back!" Y/n excitedly raised their hands in the air, sprinting down the stairs and heading straight for the door. "I call shotgun, come on Alfred!" Y/n surprised the butler, dragging him towards the waiting limousine outside.

"What? That's not fair!" Duke leaped over the couch, desperately trying to secure the next best seat. This triggered a chain reaction, causing the entire group to scramble towards the door. Bruce could only watch in despair, attempting to ignore the shouts and cries coming from Y/n’s “victim”.

"Fine... let's get this show on the road..." Bruce mumbled wearily, resigned to their chaotic adventure.

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brucewaynehater101 · 26 days

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In reverse Robins, technically Steph would be the second Robin, she would be in Jason's pixie boots and come back devastated and vengeful. Tim would either still be stuck at the one who has to put all the pieces together with people throwing all his effort and work back in his face because of the loss of a loved one and him not being them, or maybe in Barbara's position, crippled, traumatized, and having to rebuild himself both as a civilian and vigilante

Then Jason as the Replacement, the one who has to live up to his multiple predecessors, who has to mediate between two (mostly) grown men, who believes that Gotham needs Robin, needs the hope that Batman brings to the city

Bored with Red Hood Tim, give me Oracle Tim, give me a Tim who's forced to create his own mantle instead of taking on someone else's name while he gets the job done

You are absolutely correct. Why didn't I think about it that way? If we are reversing Robins, Duke would be a very temp "Robin" before Damian, who is older, takes over the role. They wouldn't be called Robin, but whatever mantle they end up passing down.

Duke would be it for like a minute or two (maybe his gang is inspired by Batman, wants to help the crusader, and then Duke settles into being his own role). Damian would then come into the picture, take up the mantle Duke discarded, and need to be Batman's partner (Duke doesn't need to. Damian needs the constant presence of Bruce both so he can get to know his dad and so that he is guided on Bruce's version of vigilantism).

Damian goes off to do whatever (maybe he does a few years in the LoA similar to what Bruce did but obviously different).

Bruce stumbles upon Steph, who's Spoiler, and negotiates with her to take up Damian's discarded mantle. Steph, who has her mom, never actually joins the Waynes. She also never truly bonds with Damian (who's away and not approving of her taking "his" mantle). Duke and her get along, but he typically works the "day shift."

Then Steph spots Tim stalking her on a roof. At first, creeped out, she hits him with a brick. Then Tim shows her the photos of the other Bats and the evidence he's collected of cases. Steph begrudgingly grows fond of the little stalker.

She doesn't have the best relationship with Bruce and is still a little miffed he forced her to be a vigilante under his watch (instead of continuing to be independent). Because of this, Steph keeps Tim to herself and away from the Bats. Tim doesn't want to be a vigilante anyways.

Steph shows Tim some moves to keep himself safe while he collects evidence and becomes a stalker. Cass gets adopted around this point and becomes the only Wayne aware of Tim's presence. It's a secret between the three of them.

Tim even introduces Steph to Helena Bertinelli. He met her while he was gathering clues for a case. While Tim and Helena are closer, Steph admires the older woman and her way of vigilantism. Steph can't copy it cause of Bruce, but Steph doesn't find it to be wrong either.

Then the whole mess with Black Mask happens, and Steph "dies."

Tim, who's devastated at the loss, sees Bruce losing it. He, despite the many jokes and promises he made to Steph, offers to take up her role in order to leash Bruce.

Bruce, who finds out the dead person he considered a daughter had kept a whole side of herself from him, pushes Tim away even more. Tim gets sent away, learns from Shiva, and stubbornly forces Bruce into healthier methods of grieving.

In the end, Tim gets captured by Joker, and the Joker Junior arc happens. While Tim isn't physically disabled, the torture and brainwashing makes returning to the field incredibly difficult. Tim has a hard time keeping himself present when he's not at home (and sometimes struggles even then). He has laughing spells and other shit. Tim has to pull himself from the field because of this.

Bruce, on the other hand, goes off the rails again. Tim, who can barely get out of bed some days, gives up. He can't keep managing Bruce's mental well-being on top of his own.

Tim moves out to the clock tower and spends a while moping (understandably). That is until a villain tries to pull some shit online, and Tim discovers another way he can help without being a liability in the field.

Tim nearly orders a hit on Bruce when he finds Jason in the same role that killed Steph and disabled Tim. Duke talks him down and promises to always look out for Jason. Maybe Damian comes back as well.

While Tim isn't able to go in the field, he can still train. It acts as a soothing routine to him. He ensures that Jason is always able to escape and drills into his head that running away is always better than dying. There are worse things than dying, too.

Then, while Jason is "Robin", Steph comes back as "Red Hood." She would probably do a play on words as Black Mask instead for her name. I'm not sure what her training arc would be like, but I like to imagine that she teams up with Helena sometimes.

Tim, through his connections with Helena and Harley, still creates the Birds of Prey.

Anyways, hope this is a decent timeline! There's more that can be added for each of the Batkids, so feel free to add what else you think should happen

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #steph brown #duke thomas #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #cass wayne #reverse robins #thank you for the ask!!!!

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h-doodles · 5 months

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@blood-red-ocean thank you for inspiring me so suddenly with your chat, now i'm choosing to be a :3 and show it to everyone <3

oh if the ROs remember their good ends with MC but she's with Miranda and the loops have stopped and MC DOESN'T remember you know it's gonna be an absolute angst pining mess.

• Bela's heart has been taken away and the spell reinforced but she cannot, she WILL NOT forget the MC she had loved. But this one? Oh, it hurts to see her so willingly blind, to see her tormentor living what was supposed to be HER happy ending. But MC is happy, so there is nothing she can do but to let her go and work on the restraints holding herself prisoner instead.

• Cass' is taken aback. It took her MC to learn what love truly is and she is READY to start winning her back, until she sees the empty expression in her face which bore no familiarity. And the fact that she isn't into theater the same way you were before? OOP.

• Daniela is broken. You became her rock and she was yours and you were away and happy and everything was wonderful for so many years and then???? you KNOW her emotions are gonna be fucked up. You guys actually got the most time together. And now it's NOT going to happen because you're happily by her side.

• Alcina takes a double take when she remembers what you shared, and the way she resolutely broke her bonds against Miranda FOR you. WITH you. But this? You willingly being in the cult, being Miranda's prized feather, being Eva's other mother? Well, there is nothing left to do... but to do her work.

• Angie is at first, understandably upset, but honestly I feel like she's the one who bounces out quick, bc what can SHE do against Miranda? And she has her coping strategies (however DANGEROUS) and I see her going back to that kind of crutch. But at the same time, she remembers the softness between you and promises herself to be better about it... at the very least. It's what you promised each other, after all.

• Donna's RABID. You know her possessiveness for what she deems hers is absolute, and that she's one bad day away from losing her tightly held sanity. It CHAFES to see MC with Miranda, to see that in the end, she has been left behind... AGAIN. She takes solace in Angie and definitely goes back to being a hermit, but at the same time... well. WELL.

• Miranda's... well. Miranda. This isn't an ideal situation, but she has MC secured. You are hers and she is yours, but sometimes she can't help but give you a reminder... and as well as a reminder to everyone else who covets her precious little feather.

#ANYWAYS HEHE LETS GO MEOWSIES I CANNOT WAIT TO HEAR THE REACS <3 #resident lover #resident lover mc #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #angie beneviento #donna beneviento #mother miranda #personal.txt #clown.txt

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aldbooks · 29 days

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This little Gwynriel Drabble was inspired by a mini bonus scene Tate James shared today from her Madison Kate series… enjoy 😁

Gwyn wandered through the House looking for her friend who was supposed to meet her for tea. Now that Nesta and Cassian were mated, it wasn't unusual for one or both of them to forget they had a previous engagement as they got caught up in one another and, as a result, Gwyn had learned to tread carefully when searching for them lest she stumble on them in a... compromising position. Again.

After checking Nesta's bedroom, the library and dining room, she headed towards the living area that faced the large balcony. At first glance, she didn't see anyone and opened her mouth to call out her friend's name, hoping she might be heard; when a small swarm of shadows appeared before her face, halting her.

They swirled and vibrated in front of her as if urging quiet. When she took a few more steps into the room, she understood why. Azriel was draped face down across the couch, his cheek half smushed into a pillow, and massive wings draped across the back and trailing to the floor. He was fast asleep, still fully dressed in leathers and clearly exhausted. As though he'd flown straight through the open balcony doors and only had enough energy to make the few steps to the couch before passing out.

She smiled as she stood over him, observing that his face was far more relaxed in sleep than she ever saw it. He looked almost boyish with his lips pursed open and dark hair draping across his eyes. How had she never noticed his lashes were so long?

Just then, the part of her mind prone to mischief delivered a delightful idea... But she would need his shadows' cooperation. "Are you going to wake him up and tell him I'm here?" she asked of them. They paused for a moment as though trying to read her intentions and then slowly shook side to side. She took this to mean no.

Smiling, she glanced up towards the ceiling but a soft thunk on the table beside her told her the House had anticipated her request. She grinned in thanks before taking the bowl and kneeling down. Carefully, she scooped out a generous dollop of the fluffy whipped cream into the curled fingers of the Shadowsinger's hand which dangled off the cushion. Her eyes darted repeatedly towards his face, watching carefully for any sign of his waking, wondering just how light of a sleeper the Spymaster was. But he must have been truly exhausted for he didn't so much as flinch at the cold goop on his fingers.

Gwyn backed out of reach of his wings as quickly as possible, noticing Cassian approaching the balcony with Nesta cradled in his arms. They must have been out flying and forgotten the time. Frantically she waved her arms at them gesturing for them to keep silent as they landed. Both gave her perplexed looks before noticing Azriel asleep on the couch.

Nesta grinned, "Aw, look at him," she whispered. "He almost looks innocent." Cassian grinned as well before noticing the bowl in her hands. His eyes darted from her to Azriel, quickly catching on and his grin widened.

"Did you do it?"

Gwyn nodded. "I was just about to wake him up and didn't want you two to spoil it."

Cass snickered, creeping closer to his sleeping friend. "It's so rare anyone pulls one over on Az. He's too sneaky by half. You do realize that once he knows it was you, he'll be sure to pay you back... ten fold."

Gwyn's smirk, she knew, was just a touch evil. "He's welcome to try."

They all inched their way closer on silent tiptoes and Gwyn grabbed the second object the House had provided. A feather. Azriel's shadows swirled around him in giddy patterns and she held it out to them. "Would you like to do the honors?"

One of the shadows darted out, snaking around her fingers as it plucked the feather from her and held it over Azriel's nose. Dancing back out of his reach once more, she watched as the feather tickled Azriel's nose and cheek, the former scrunching adorably. But still he did not wake. She nodded at his shadows to try again.

This time, the little shadow got bolder, practically shoving the feather up the poor Spymaster's nose. Azriel woke with a start, a sound escaping him that was half shout, half snort as his cream filled hands smacked against his face smearing his golden brown skin with white.

There was a pause where the whole room seemed to freeze.

"Oh my Gods, that was so much better than I planned," Gwyn wheezed before she and her companions dissolved into laughter. The shadow that had been holding the feather quickly disappeared behind the couch, many of the others joining as Azriel wiped his face with the handkerchief one of his other shadows helpfully provided, and looked down at the offending mess. Slowly his eyes raised up to his audience who fell abruptly silent. His gaze was sharp and lethal as it zeroed in on Gwyn and narrowed.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched his gaze flick towards the abandoned bowl of cream she'd left on the table near him when she'd grabbed the feather. A wicked smile curled his lips as his gaze returned to her, one word leaving his lips on a deadly whisper. "Run."

---

Cassian almost fell over laughing as he watched the young priestess scramble out of the room, Azriel following her unhurriedly as he took the bowl of cream and stalked out of the room, his shadows engulfing him.

Nesta shushed him and they both listened carefully for a moment. About thirty seconds later they heard a startled yelp and a wet splatter quickly followed by a deep chuckle.

#gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #gwyn and azriel

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soapiemomorphine · 1 year

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My Rottmnt Separated Au!// Masterpost

(*Dj Khalid voice *: Another one ) (scroll to bottom for links to other posts)

This one’s called:

How I Met Our Brothers

And it’s an au of my own inspired by all the greats, like @daedelweiss @dianagj-art @trubblegumm @red-rover-au and more! (Seriously go follow their blogs)

Mainly by @trubblegumm and by the feral Leo from @cupcakeslushie , and you’ll soon why

With out further ado;

DRUMROLL PLEASE DUN DUNNUNUUUUHHHHH

(Also dont worry ab my chicken scratch I have it all written down lol)

(Click for better quality lol)

Since my writing’s shit (lol) here’s the transcript for what I wrote: the character descriptions first, then the pluses from top to bottom

Donatello Hamato:

Raised by Splinter/Hamato Yoshi/Lou Jitsu in the sewers under Brooklyn

Started looking for his bros after his dad told him about them

Met April when he was 9 (she was 11)

He met Leo when they were both 11

Baron Michelangelo:

(I hc that Baron is a title, not a name; like Lord or Lady, so Mikey inherited Draxum’s title)

He’s been training to be a mystic warrior since he was born

Muninn (the one with a larger body and the underbite) wanted him to be named Angel, Huginn (the one with a larger head and overbite) wanted him to be Michael, so they compromised with the perfect name (don’t tell Draxum they saw it in a human pamphlet )

Raised by Draxum alone until he was seven

At 7 y/o he met Raph and ever since both Big Mama and Baron Draxum have joint custody over them

BM and BD raise them like a divorced couple, they alternate houses weekly and they celebrate each holiday twice, (Big Mama and Draxum only come together for their b-days)

Besties with Raph and Cass, (met Cass when he was 10, she was 13)

Rapheal Jitsu :

Training to be a mystic warrior since he was 9

Big Mama named him what she and Splinter would have named their first son; (he proposed to her, you can’t tell me that they didn’t talk ab baby names)

Big Mama was not the only secretive one in the relationship, she didn’t know what Splinter’s real last name was, (and as a gang leader she doesn’t use her name anymore) so yes, Jitsu is Raph’s legal last name

Met Mikey when he was 9 y/o

BM and BD raise them like a divorced couple, they alternate houses weekly and they celebrate each holiday twice, (Big Mama and Draxum only come together for their b-days)

Besties with Mike and Cass, (met Cass when he was 12, she was 13)

??????? —> Leonardo Hamato:

He grew up in the sewers in Staten Island, the one who brought him there was *REDACTED*

Staten Island is full on awful people, so nobody took him in, and he learned to fear people

Donnie found him, and named him Leonardo and gave him his birthday, making him 11

Other Info:

+ because Leonardo was hella malnourished as a growing young lad, Donnie ended up being the 2nd tallest by the time of the movie

+Splinter became more proactive in Donnie’s life ever since he lost sight of the other three brothers and became more proactive in his training when he met April because he’s more paranoid than he is in the show

+Don didn’t really care for Leo (he was comfortable as an only child and Leo changed his routine), until Leo got deathly sick and nearly died

+Big Mama and Draxum (somewhat) reformed only b/c Mikey and Raph would cry and throw tantrums (they won the moral argument slay) when they would talk ab their plans and beliefs (Draxum loves his children more that he hates humanity, and Big Mama finally learned how to love with Raph)

+Mama truly loved Splinter, but was insecure about him loving her as a Yokai (she had trust issues) and b/c her morals are hella skewed, it seemed like a great idea to keep him the only way she knew how, by putting him in Battle Nexus (and she makes bank with him there! In her mind it seemed like a win-win)

(Note: Big Mama’s and Splinter’s relationship will solely be as exes, because it would be hella unhealthy for Splints to trust her after she betrayed it like it. (They both lied to eachother during their relationship in this au) Their relationship in my comics and fanfics in this au will solely be as estranged exes, they will not be getting back together)

If this post gets like, at least 30 notes then ill post a comic on how Leo and Donnie met! (Edit: oh wow. U guys did it)

Lists of HIMOB Posts:

Disaster twins post

Sunset duo post

HIMOB Donnie meets the Canon Mad Dogs // Bonus Comic

Donnie and the Stranger: Part 1 // Part 2

The name Rapheal: Part 1 // Part 2

The Caretaker: Part 1 // TBC . . .

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damianbugs · 5 months

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Hi!! First I just wanted to say your fics have been an inspo for me to write my own fics and I enjoy them immensely. Second, I’ve been wandering something and I want to ask something about how Jason Todd is portrayed after his death.

I don’t really understand why so many just kind of lie? Or exasperate who Jason Todd is and isn’t. Like the Cass and Bruce scene in front of Jason’s grave, or that scene in Gotham Knights where Alfred tells Bruce “Jason was determined to disobey him.” I know out of universe it just has to do with the mischaracterization of Jason but I’m having a hard time on finding an in universe explanation. Is it out of guilt? Out of misplaced love? It’s confusing me a bit

first of all, thank you!! i'm so glad i could inspire you that is truly the highest complement i could receive <3

secondly, this is a really interesting discussion! you're right about how in a meta way it's the deeply routed classism in jasons writing, as well as many writers (example: grant morrison) just really hating jason for some reason and doing everything they can to make him absolutely insufferable. not even in a cool evil villain way, but in an embarrassment point and laugh kind of way.

for the purpose of this discussion lets (with much difficulty) ignore the writers predispositions and implications and just focus entirely on what this means for the characters. it's good you mention the cass and bruce at jason's grave scene, because i think that example alone is a good way to deconstruct some of character's (for this post: bruce's) perspective of jason's death.

to summarise before dumping a billion paragraphs developing the point; let's not dance around it and accept that much of people's understanding of jason's death falls into the victim blaming variety, but in such way that the characters don't seem to realise that's how they perceive him, which is almost worse than them purposely retelling it in such a way. as well as that, aside from this indenial misunderstanding of jason, i think this shows the sort of flaws the other characters have.

Detective Comics #790

at first glance this seems like a really touching and emotional moment where bruce is sharing his grief with cass (especially when the entirety of #790 is about bruce struggling to do just that), but then you really read it and you're like what the fuck... why are we standing in front of this kids grave slagging him off? not only are we hearing all of bruce's regrets about how he raised jason as opposed to his son's actual death, but we are dragging steph into this too.

to bruce, jason's death is an accumulation of everything he let the boy get away with finally reaching it's tipping point. that jason's ambition to "prove something" lead to his seemingly inevitable demise.

now i do think it's important to note that WE (the readers) know jason died saving sheila. that despite being beaten, betrayed and left for dead, he tried to save someone and paid the price for it. no one else knows that, because the two people that did are dead. as a result, bruce is left with the facts that;

prior to his death, jason was acting uncharacteristically (<- important point) violent and aggressive towards himself, borderline passively suicidal. bruce himself acknowledges this.

that jason ran away from home in search of someone who may or may not be his mother. this is because losing his parents is a hurt jason has still not healed from and a topic bruce has handled badly in the past (example: willis todd). jason does not trust bruce enough to tell him about this.

once they find his mother, jason is instructed to not get involved in the joker related problem. to the extent of bruces knowledge, jason reveals himself as robin, and decides to get involved despite the instruction not to. either because he again, didn't trust bruce to believe he would handle it, or that jason was trying to prove something to bruce, to sheila, or to himself.

sheila dies, jason dies and bruce is the only one alive from the tragedy with only half the story.

All of this can be found in A Death In The Family, but I don't feel comfortable sharing panels of it given where the story takes place right now.

bruce spends the next few years blaming himself at any given point, but the blame is misplaced. bruce feels as though HIS negligence of JASON'S personality and HIS allowance of JASON'S freedom as robin is what allowed JASON to go and die. instead of seeing what he knows to be true about jason (his empathy, his kindness, his grief and loneliness) bruce can now only see how his allowance of all these things played a part in JASON disobeying him (whether maliciously or not) and dying.

in short, bruce is projecting big time onto his dead kid.

bruce is, as per usual, coping with loss by antagonising it. he did the same with babs, with steph and later on with damian. for a character like batman, who upon failing immediately turns these losses into lessons (for himself and all those forced to comply), it's the only way he seems to 'move on'. if he can understand that jason died because of all the things bruce let him do wrong, then he can convince himself that the guilt he feels for it is necessary. that jasons death is on him and that it mattered.

unfortunately, in order to do that, bruce is indenial about what he LITERALLY KNOWS ABOUT JASON! it's not like he was an absent father to jason in the slightest. but hey, if he can vitiate jason's enthusiasm to help people as jason's impulsiveness to fight (two things that can be true but not in accordance to the context he describes them in), then the blame is on jason for being brash, and on bruce for being lenient.

he shoots jason in the foot and himself in the knee to keep them both down. because, well, jason's dead anyway, and bruce unfortunately isn't. this is the closest thing they'll get to sharing the truth bruce knows he's missing and he knows it's his fault for favouring the mission of his son — so at the expense of jason, bruce lets them both be the lesson to learn from.

it is why jason is used as a cautionary tale, and why bruce is so unstable on allowing people (especially children) into his life emotionally. the second robin is a lesson for any young vigilante eager to join the mission, and batman's part in the death is a lesson for bruce wayne to... be even more emotionally untrustworthy? instructions unclear.

the final part of the grave scene is also important, because bruce is admitting that he is not so different to jason. that "for some of us [Bruce and Cass] there is no turning back". he is projecting these flaws about jason not only because that's the only way he can cope with jason's death, but he is projecting these flaws because regardless of what actually happened, he (and cass) are destined to meet the same fate. jason died for a multitude of reason that bruce may or may not have caused knowingly, and these reasons only exist because bruce knows them to be true in himself and anyone else damaged enough to find themselves on his side of the blurry line.

so, now looking a bit less zoomed in, i think it's unfortunate that jason's time as robin is often perversed by the people who should know better (bruce & alfred), and while it is bad writing on jason's character, it is great writing to show the flaws in the characters around him.

especially how it shows that grief is not always something that can become healed. bruce's guilt about his parents death amounts to something hopeful (batman), but his guilt about jason's death makes bruce cruel and childish.

tldr: no one knows the true story, so they compensate from what they do know — but by doing so they project and misinform existing characteristics of jason in order to compartmentalise the gravity of his tragic death. bruce is unable to cope normally and everyone is forced to follow the same fate, because batman's lessons are rarely wrong, even if they cause ten other problems and misunderstandings to understand.

#did this answer anything idk its exam season who even am i #dc meta #bruce wayne #jason todd #character study #saki anons #saki comic talks #put me in a box with bruce wayne and i will eat his brain #sorry idk where that came from erm

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delusionalmultifandomwriter · 5 months

Text

Batfam Sleep Noise HC

requested?: no

I should sleep because i literally have to get up at 5am but inspiration hit me

HC: What does the Batfam listen to while falling asleep?

Dick will listen to simple Talk Podcasts where the people talk about random topics. He needs something light to fall asleep. He is not picky though, he will start the first that pops up on Spotify and go with it.

Jason listens to Harry Potter Podcasts. Jay is a big nerd for Harry Potter and likes these podcasts where they will analyize the movies frame by frame. He will also listen to Back to the Future Minute.

Tim listens to TED talk but he never comes far because he will pass out immediatly most times. Podcasts come in truly handy for him when insomnia hits hard. Some nights when he feels lonely, he will listen to Boyfriend ASMR but he will take that secret to the grave. Sometimes he cries while listening to it and hugging his pillow.

Barbara also listens to TED talk. She also likes all sorts of tech podcasts. She will not only listen to podcasts while falling asleep but also during any other situation.

Stephanie likes to listen to meditation podcasts and noises. She will totally fall asleep to the sound of rain, forest noises or the sound of the sea. Steph is zen.

Cass prefers to fall asleep in silence. When insomnia hits her, she will listen to True Crime and History Crime Podcasts. Cannibalism, serial killers, child molesters, nothing is too hard for her. The family is totally questioning her sanity and how she can even listen to stuff like that but noone dares to fight her on it.

Duke listens to slow music. Sometimes it is LoFi but it doesnt really matter to him. Occassinally he will listen to childrens audio books because he used to listen to them when he was younger. He likes the Harry Potter audiobooks as well as other classics and Disney audiobooks.

Damian listens to the Clone Wars Audiobooks. He will listen to them over and over again because they are his comfort audiobooks. He religiously avoids the episode where Fives dies and the one where Ahsoka leaves the Jedi Order (i mean, who doesn't?). On the rare occassion he will listen to something else, he will listen to Diary of a Wimpy Kid. It brings a strange sense of control and normalcy to his truly extraordinary life.

Bruce falls asleep in silence or while listening to white noises. Fight me on that, i dare you.

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hanlimz · 1 year

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JUNGWONSPIDERMANAU

cass. pls dont say that and just. LEAVE. expand. i would like to hear your thoughts 🎤

bc truly spider-man/peter parker was my first love and personally i have had the idea for a jake as spider-man au for quiet a bit now but it has never really taken off but now i NEED to hear all your thoughts.

(also if u have any good spider-man au fic recs pls send them my way thnx 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

PLSSS I COULD TALK FOREVER!!!! BUT OKAY—here are some bullet points plus a small blurb/summary/idk? i literally am going to write so much im so SORRY??? (this has convinced me n i will be writing a fic LMAOO)

(+ two vvvv good spiderman fic recs!!)

it’s safe here (with me) by @enhypenandpaper !! | very cute story, well-written, i love when writers can put their own unique spin on scenes that inspire them it’s rly motivating and wonderful (i need to rb this on my fic rec blog asap) (jake x reader)

i’ll save you (again) by @jayflrt !! | amazing stupendous wonderful show-stopping ,, literally one of my Favorite reads on this app .. this author manages to encapsulate both spiderman And jake sosososo well .. they also make it a point to rly flesh out the other friendships mentioned and I Love That (jake x reader)

general hcs (?):

won is the dorkiest spiderman ever .. stutters over his quips, never has anything cool to say to the villains he fights, doesn’t know how to respond to ppl thanking him

one time someone he saved tried to ask for his number and he panicked and said he was banned from both t-mobile and verizon (he’s not btw)??

another time he just got done saving a group of ppl n said “no thneeds necessary” ?? bc he was trying to say “no need to thank me” n “no thanks necessary” at the same time

but he’s also the sweetest .. any time someone asks to “repay him” he’s a double it n give it to the next person kinda guy .. he always tells them to stop by the soup kitchen or donate old clothes to thrift stores or just be kind to someone else

also ,, on another note ,, won has the Biggest crush on u and knows u like to help out at the local preschool, so he always tells ppl to buy and donate extra school supplies

sometimes when he’s out patrolling late at night, he’ll see u on ur way home from the library n quietly follow u to make sure u get home safe

tries to talk to u once after seeing a spiderman article open on ur computer and u indulge him for a moment, saying how bad u felt abt the daily bugle’s tabloid pieces .. won’s p sure his heart exploded

but overall, he’s very gentle and kind .. ever the king of duality tho .. he can beat a bitch up when need be, but most of the time—won’s just a high school senior trying to get into MIT and make the person he’s been in love with since the beginning of fall semester feel the same way abt him

ANYWAYS in a high school!au setting i see a lot of ppl like to hc jungwon as class/stuco president, but i think he’s definitely more on the quiet side .. he’s popular, yes, but not too popular if that makes sense. for him, though, this is perfect ... he flies under the radar, and him missing school a couple days in a row every month or so goes virtually unnoticed. HOWEVER, you’ve always had a sneaking suspicion .. it’s not like you and won are Rivals—there would be no merit in picking an unnecessary fight with the boy who volunteers at the soup kitchen on the weekends and feeds the stray cats near the gym and asks the lunch ladies how their days are going—but, there’s something strange going on. you’re sure of it.

jungwon comes into school one day w a busted lip and a black eye. everyone is fawning over him, asking him what happened—did he get mugged, did his face hurt, did he give the other person a run for their money? you don’t bother checking in on him when he takes his seat next to you. you just hand him his calculus test (he did better than you again n it’s infuriating) and clench your jaw, willing yourself to disappear. that familiar, green monster hangs in the shadows behind you, and its breath fans across your neck as it attempts to coax a physical manifestation of jealously from your lips. eventually, you excuse yourself to the nurse’s office and skip the rest of the day.

later that night, you’re trying to study in your room, but you keep getting distracted by the daily bugle’s twitter updates. spiderman is out and about again, and they won’t let the poor guy’s good reputation rest. it’s all “spiderman fights villain and knocks over streetlight onto local man’s car” and “spiderman forgoes saving lady’s churro to destroy half of grand central station”—and, honestly, you feel a bit bad. he’s trying his best. but, as rain patters against your window, the sound threatens to lull you to sleep. exhaustion overtakes your body, your eyes are drooping, and your head keeps falling from your hands. and then BOOM—the loudest noise you’ve ever heard startles you from your fatigue-induced trance. with a look of fear in your eyes, you glance over your shoulder to look at the window and the sight that greets you is enough to freeze every molecule in your body.

the aforementioned hero is clinging to the side of your building, banging his fist on the glass and practically begging to be let in. his movements are frantic and a bit scary. you open the window as quick as you can and let him slide through the small gap you’ve created. there are copious tears in his suit, blood flows from a nasty gash on his shoulder. rushing around on some crude form of auto pilot, you grab a clean shirt from your closet and press it into his wound. you tell him to hold it there and instruct him to sit in your desk chair. he's sopping wet from head to toe, and all you manage to think about is how glad you are that your parents are away for the weekend.

eventually, after only almost vomiting once, the cut is clean and bandaged up. "you're so lucky that i've been trying to get rid of this shirt forever, mr. spiderman," you scoff as he perches on the sill of your window, preparing to swing away into the night. "if i had grabbed one of my favorite outfits, i would've killed you before that wound could have."

a giggle escapes from his lips, and for a moment, you find yourself taken aback. he sounds like a high schooler—young, lively, and everything but the twenty-something year old man you thought he would be. "sorry about that ... i'll have to swing by and drop off some laundry detergent one of these days," he laughs. his voice sounds so familiar, but your mind is still reeling from your recent discovery. the hero offers you a wave and gestures toward his previous seat. "sleep well—and, good luck on that calculus homework."

the next day at school, jungwon is nowhere to be seen. you thank whatever happens to reside in the sky that he can't see the bright red 67 at the top of your most recent calculus test. the next next day, however, jungwon comes in with his arm in a sling. as his seatmate, you're the one that has to help him out for the rest of the week. but, when you're sitting in free period, you happen to take another glance at the bandages around his shoulder as jungwon naps next to you. a sharp column of ice pierces through your lower abdomen; under jungwon's sling, the lowest layer of bandages are covered with dried blood and sweat.

they look eerily familiar. almost like the ones you used to patch spiderman up over the weekend.

but, jungwon couldn't be spiderman. he couldn't be—he's too sweet, too gentle, too kind. peeking over at his backpack, you note that it seems a bit bulkier today; a recognizable purple cap winks at you from the unzipped main pocket. a chill tickles the length of your spine as you register what happened to be resting against his class notebooks.

laundry detergent?

you pause for a moment.

oh.

oh god.

#ੈ.faves #ੈ.nyx 🌌#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #enha fluff #enha reactions #enha headcanons #enha imagines #jungwon reactions #jungwon headcanons #jungwon imagines #LMAOOO i did too much honestly #the whole blurb is so messy im so SORRY #but when i have more time (prob my spring break ㅠㅠ) ill Definitely be fleshing this out n writing a full fledged spiderwon fic

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