#I WONDER HOW THIS MUCH LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING CAN FIT HIS TINY BODY

[utterlyazriel]

an eternity, my love

eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)

How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?

When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.

Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.

Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?

You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.

With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.

You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.

Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.

He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.

You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.

After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.

Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.

The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.

And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.

Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.

Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.

You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.

It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.

He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.

Your heart burns.

In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.

It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.

It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.

Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.

Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.

Ruination be damned.

—

Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.

You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.

Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.

But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.

The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.

An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.

He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.

All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.

It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.

And then, he remembers the pang of fear.

He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.

"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.

You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.

"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.

He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.

Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.

The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.

Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.

Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.

“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.

You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.

“Who says I’m nervous?”

Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."

There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.

"I can feel it.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.

"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.

"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.

Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"

You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.

"Brussels sprouts."

Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.

"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.

"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."

He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.

You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.

—

The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.

Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.

Firstly, he's terribly quiet.

Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).

With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.

You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.

There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.

He doesn’t touch you.

Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.

His hands reach out but they do not find you.

At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.

Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.

The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.

As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.

Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.

And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.

A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?

Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.

Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.

The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.

It's a decidedly Azriel thing.

He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.

As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.

It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.

So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.

"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."

My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.

It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.

It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.

It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.

You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.

There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.

Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.

Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.

Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.

Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.

"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."

You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.

"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.

You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.

As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.

"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."

The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.

"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."

You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."

Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."

"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."

Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.

"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"

There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.

One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.

"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."

You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.

When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.

"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.

It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.

Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.

Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.

It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?

“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.

“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”

Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.

On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.

Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.

You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.

Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.

And then— then, you see it.

Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.

You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.

It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.

He doesn't touch you.

The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.

His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.

You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.

"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.

"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."

It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.

You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.

You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.

The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.

And like always, you never hear him coming.

"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.

You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.

He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?

His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.

Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?

"Please," He tries his words again.

His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.

"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."

You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.

"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."

Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.

You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.

Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.

All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.

Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.

You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?

You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.

"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.

"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.

"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”

You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.

"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."

Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.

"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."

“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.

"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.

Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.

"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"

"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."

His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.

The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.

You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.

Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.

He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.

Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.

"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"

"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.

But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.

"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.

"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.

"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."

You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.

"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”

Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.

“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.

“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.

“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”

Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.

“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.

“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”

And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.

His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.

It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.

Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.

He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.

Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.

“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.

“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”

Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.

—

some people i thought might want to be tagged :)

@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares

#it got very long... i'm sorry! #we can't talk about bad miscommunication and then me not set up valid reasons for miscommunication tho #i can't DO IT #azriel a big softie in this one... #i mean he always is :) #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel hurt/comfort #miscommunication #idiots in luv <3 #i need a writing tag.....

[raitonsfw]

Hello ,

I would like to request dazai Osamu with a reader who is a virgin a d having sex for the very first time and he goes into corruption mode and is soo feral with her teasing and all but still takes good care of her after it .

you can ignore this if you want

thank you

𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: You wanted him in his entirety and you made sure you were well prepared for your first time with Dazai, but what you weren’t prepared for was how much he wanted you in your entirety. Once he sunk in, his mind went blank and it was over. All you could do was take it, every inch, every thrust, every dirty mantra, everything. And you loved every second of it.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, virgin!reader, dick drunk!reader, pussy whipped!dazai, corruption kink, first time, consent, cursing, fingering, grinding, p in v intercourse, breast play, teasing, praising, dirty talk (lots of it), aftercare (he runs a lil bath for her), a smidge of pain, slight overstimulation, feral dazai fucking reader mercilessly into the mattress, reader does wear a skirt and works at the ada, bit of a bandage obsession (he’s so goddamn pretty with them), pet names (darling, princess, sweetheart, baby), possibly my best work? idk i fucks with it.

a/n: ty to my wonderful anon for requesting this, it was so entertaining to write cuz not me having to take several breaks to recollect my thoughts every time i wrote a piece of dazai's dialogue (he turns me into putty, i swear🧡), also, if anyone understands the manga reference in the very beginning, ily lots. wc: 2.9k. m.list

now playing: oxytocin by billie eilish

divider credit: @benkeibear

It was the day, you thought meekly as you mentioned something about leaving early to the bandaged boy that sat at Kunikida’s desk reading a new manga issue. 

“Huh? You want to go home now?” He asked, pulling one of his earbuds out and looking at you with a confused face. Dazai’s fingers played with a page hosting the demise of a beloved character and you instantly thought, maybe it wasn’t the time to bother him about cutting his day short. Not when his manga issue had been so grim, the remainder looking quite halved.

“Dazai…” You locked eyes with him and he slid the book into his bag wearily, reaching for his coat that he hung on the back of the chair. He pulled it on quickly, the edges flowing against him like waves and you admired how it fit him, the natural curves of his body did wonders within your mind. 

“Fiiine, but I want to finish this issue by tonight.” He complained, taking your hand as you two walked out of the office. 

Dazai and you had been dating for a few months, coming up close to a year and you made sure you had enough time to prepare. Prepare for your first time with Dazai, of course. You weren’t stupid, you’ve been thinking about it for months now– about the way his fingers lightly ghosted over your thigh as you two made out, the way a tiny groan would slip from his mouth when you gently bit his lip, the way that his cock would perk up when you managed to run your palm down his chest.

But that’s as far as you went. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to, you just weren’t ready for that type of intimacy. Dazai never rushed you, the comfort of his cuddles were very pleasing when he noticed your lack of forwardness after you felt you went too far. But the aching between your thighs lately had been getting to you as your eyes washed over Dazai’s lean build, taking in how his black vest hugged his waist with little effort and the tactical bandages adorning his body– you wanted them off. Off and hanging from his flushed body, fucking you mercilessly into the pillows that surrounded you.

Dazai twirled the key around his finger, opening the door to his apartment and ushering you inside with his hand against the small of your back. You entered before him, taking in the warmth of the tiny apartment that seeped into your bones. You wanted to jump straight to the evening, but you honestly didn’t know if you could even wait that long as you glanced at Dazai. He was taking his coat off and he had his manga in hand already, ready to finish it at the drop of a hat. 

“Dazai, I had something to ask you.” You started as he made himself comfy on the edge of the sofa, his legs crossing promptly and you second guessed yourself again when he propped the book open to resume the gory mess of the chapter. 

“Yes, darling?” He glanced up at you, trying to read your expression and he made another confused face when you didn’t answer. “Y/N?” 

You didn’t know how to tell him, the question on the tip of your tongue but not quite leaving. All you wanted was him on top of you but how were you to initiate it when you’ve never done this before? All of the other times, Dazai had kissed you first with a gentle hum and guided you into the confidence of taking the lead if you ever wanted to. It was genuinely sweet that he’s so willing, so patient with you, and your head spun a bit as you looked at him with a blank face.

Dazai put the book down on the armrest of the sofa and you knew you took too long to respond. He reached over, his legs uncrossing in their position and pulled you into his lap with a gentle tone evading his lips. “Are you okay? You’ve been off all day.” 

As you straddled him on the sofa, your impatience got worse when you felt the swell of your cunt press directly against his cock. You just wanted to sink onto him right then and there, the size of him basically teasing you and your entire face flushed red. You avoided his gaze as he tried to gauge what was wrong, his hands coming up to hold you around the waist steadily. 

He pressed a tiny kiss against your cheek, muttering into it. “Seriously, what made you wanna leave work early? I mean, not that I minded. We basically had nothing to do with Kunikida and Yosano out on a mission.” 

As Dazai continued talking, he shuffled his leg mindlessly and you dropped down further into his lap with a squeak. You slick rubbed up against the seam of your panties, nearly flooding through the thin material that sat so perfectly flush against his clothed dick and you were sure he noticed it by now. You were sure he noticed the heat of your cunt, warmer than usual, wetting the front of his trousers as he soothed kisses down your neck. The unmistakable bulge that pressed up into you made you dizzy, he knew why you were acting so off now.

“Is this why?” Dazai tutted, his eyes coming up to stare into yours as his fingers trailed down towards your inner thigh underneath your skirt. “You’ve been hot and bothered all day, huh princess?” 

“Yeah, been thinking about us…” You trailed off as you met his eyes finally, the muddled brown looking darker than usual. 

“About us? Did you want– Are you ready?” He stammered a bit, his face going red along with yours at the thought then a playful smirk played on his lips “Oh wow, can’t wait to tell Fukuzawa why we left early.”

“Dazai, don’t you dar–” You were cut off by a moan as his fingers pressed into the soaked material of your panties. You clutched at his bandaged wrist, grinding down onto them as he looked back at you with wide eyes dumbfounded that you didn’t shy away from the action. Sure, he’s grinded against you before with his dick but this was different, you were practically begging for his fingers in you.

“Y/N…” Dazai suddenly breathed out, his fingers slipping into the lace deftly and you felt him brush up against your clit. He studied your face, readying for any drawbacks as he went further with you. This was new to him after all, normally you’d tell him if he went too far. He wasn’t thinking straight when he pressed them against your cunt the first time moments ago and definitely not now as he slid them into you with ease. 

You jolted, the foreignness of it startling you slightly and he stopped moving them in. “Are you okay with this?” 

You nodded as you gasped breaths into his hovering lips, pulling him into a chaste kiss. His fingers curled in you slightly as he slid his tongue into your mouth, lapping at you breathlessly. You whined into the kiss, his fingers dipping in and out of you shallowly and the discomfort dissipated after a few seconds. You glanced down at where he had pinned with pleasure and you vaguely registered how he so painfully strained against his trousers, his wrist resting lightly against it as he thrusted into you. 

“D-Dazai…”

“What is it, princess?” He cooed, kissing the side of your lips as you tilted your head away from him. One of his fingers started to rub circles into your clit and you couldn’t remember what you had to say, the words disintegrating for your tongue. “You okay? Fuck, you’re so tight around my fingers… Can’t wait to get you around my cock.” 

That’s what it was, his cock. That’s what you wanted. 

But before you could yearn for it, his fingers slipped out quickly and you were being picked up by slender arms. The manga book dropped the armrest of the sofa and Dazai sighed as he noticed he had lost his page, but he didn’t move to pick it up as he brought you down the hall towards his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed carefully, tugging at your shirt with questioning eyes which you answered a quiet ‘yes’ to.

Dazai raked it up, marveling at the way your breasts bounced in the lace bra that matched your panties and he kissed them tenderly while he unclasped the back, letting them spill out. “So pretty for me, Y/N.” 

He wanted to take this slow, he didn’t want your first time to be rushed after all. After all, Dazai had been waiting for you to express you were ready and if you trusted him this much, he was going to make sure everything went right. He sucked a light hickey into the top of your breast while pulling off your skirt, his tongue basically melting the bruise into your skin as you huffed out a tiny whine. 

His dick felt so heavy against the seam of his trousers as he slipped your panties off, gazing in awe at how beautiful you looked exposed underneath him. Dazai slipped his vest off and his shirt all in one go and you crossed your legs together self consciously as he undressed. But before you could fully close them, a steady hand came to rest around your knee as he slipped out of his trousers clumsily. It was endearing to watch him almost trip against you as he shakily took them off. “Don’t be shy, darling, you’re perfect. Everything I imagined, okay?” 

‘Okay…” You breathed out, letting him slot himself between your legs and he immediately captured you in a kiss, his fingers lingering everywhere they could reach. You keened into his touch as he gripped your thighs, pulling you right against his confined dick and you wanted them off already. “D-Dazai?”

“Yes?” He murmured, rubbing his length against you and watching your arousal slick a dark patch in his light blue boxers. A quiet groan slipped out of him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes half lidded and honestly, you’ve never seen such a fucking sight in your life. His bandages wrapped around his forearms but his upper arms were exposed, his neck bandage connecting down some of his chest but not all. It was taut against his skin and you just wanted to pull at it til it broke, til it ripped and laid tangled against you too. 

“Be gentle?” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders up with a nervous expression. He gave you a quiet scoff, his hands coming to rest on both sides of your body and you felt him shuffle out of his boxers. 

“Who do you think I am?” Dazai chuckled, prodding the tip against your clit and rubbing it slowly. You gasped out at the sensation, squeezing your eyes shut. “Of course, sweetheart.” 

He moved it down towards your entrance and everything suddenly felt so real. Dazai sank in slightly and he cooed at you when you let out a quiet noise of discomfort, kissing you promptly as he pushed the rest of the way in. You felt the wave of pain thicken as he bottomed out, but you breathed through your nose, your mind guiding you to remember that you two were finally connected. He had buried his face into your neck, nipping at the flesh lightly as a drawn out moan came from him. 

Dazai honestly felt like he short circuited, you wrapped around him so well, so fucking tight. Yeah, be gentle? That was the last thing on his mind now as he felt your walls clench around him tightly, waiting for him to move. He didn’t know where these thoughts had come from, but all his brain was mustering up was ‘fuck you stupid into the mattress,’ or ‘make you cry his name between sobs,’ the absolute filthest things. He wanted to corrupt you, your virginity flowing like invisible threads between his fingertips as you whimpered out his name, urging him to move.

“Fuck, Y/N…” Dazai groaned, his hips snapping into you harshly and you let out a shocked cry as he barely gave you time to adjust. “Fuck, fuck, ‘M sorry, needed to have you right now.” 

He gripped your thighs, leaving crescent shaped imprints as he pulled you onto his dick more. He thrusted into you with a sharp pace, quickly leaning up to gain more control over your body as he set a rhythm. His eyes nearly rolled back as he watched you struggle to hold onto his biceps, tiny whimpers coming from your lips and there were tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill. He watched, his pace never slowing, as your breasts bounced with every vigorous draw of his cock and your hands flew towards the sheets instead as he plowed into you with harsh breaths.

‘God, so tight, so good for me. Seems like your pussy was made to fit around me perfectly, was made specifically for my fucking cock, princess.” Dazai teased, gaping at the way his cock slid so wonderfully into you, the base of it wet with a creamy ring already and you felt him twitch with ecstasy inside you.

You had no idea what had gotten into him, those words you whispered to him before abandoned and was this really your partner? Had you been holding back from him for too long? Maybe you should’ve given yourself to him sooner. 

It didn’t matter anymore, your brain had been frazzled beyond belief as pleasure sparked up your spine viciously, shocks and tingles overtaking every part of your body. You had your back arched upwards, bracing yourself with every ruthless thrust into your cunt and you had to make sure you didn’t knock your head into the bedframe. 

“Arch some more for me, beautiful.” A gentle palm came to rest underneath you, lifting you up some more and you shuddered at the feeling of his dainty fingers spreading against your back. 

“Look like such an angel for me. Guess I’m the devil huh?” Dazai taunted with a wry smile, whining each word out with eyes squeezing shut for a moment as pleasure coursed through his cock as you clenched around him again purposefully. “Wrecking you like this, I really shouldn’t have but, God, you looked so innocent underneath me…” 

Fuck, you should’ve done this a long time ago. He hit your sweet spot with relentless aim, ramming into it and you let out another loud cry, your mouth dropped open and you felt you were on fire as he laughed dryly at your jolt from his movements. 

“Gonna cum on my cock, baby? Look at me, princess.” You opened your eyes lazily, his experience making you numb to the touch and his hips became sloppy with each thrust now. He rolled them into you, his other hand gripping at your waist as he tilted his head back slightly. He whimpered out with a quiet slur, “So close...thank you, thank you…” 

His name became familiar in your mouth, nothing but it escaped in a frenzy of moans and you felt your orgasm surging, the feeling reaching higher and higher and-

You came undone underneath him the same time as he did, cumming all over his cock who painted your insides white with his. He pumped himself through it, collapsing against you afterwards. You whined out at the aftershocks, shaking slightly as Dazai pulled out of you. Immediately, you felt his hands against your thighs, caressing them after every jerk and twitch of your abused cunt. 

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He apologized all in one breath, his voice wavering slightly and you placed one hand on his back, smoothing it over once. 

“It’s okay.” You said once you caught your breath and by then, he had kissed you silly and massaged every single ache in your body away. The feeling of his touch calmed you into a state of exhaustion and with every gentle kiss, he whispered sweet nothings to bring you back to reality. 

“Want me to run a bath for you, sweetheart?” He asked once you could answer his questions, rubbing circles into your hips and lapping at the bruises on your breasts lovingly. “I’m going to carry you, so don’t worry about walking. I was so rough, wasn’t I?”

“Dazai, honey.” You whined, the pet name falling from your lips and he looked at you with his eyebrows raised. You smiled warmly at him. “You’ll fuck me like that everytime?” 

“If you want me to.” He grinned into the side of your thigh as he moved downwards to get off the bed, wiggling into his boxers during the process. “I’m running the bath.” 

Dazai bounced away and you stared up at the ceiling contentedly, a deep sigh parting from your lips. You never had expected your first time to be that intense, but you were so glad that it was, the feeling of him ghosted through your body and you hummed to yourself happily. You didn’t know why you waited so long, especially if that was how he was going to react. It sent arousal flooding through you again and you knew there’d be more than one round tonight by the looks of it.

You heard Dazai’s voice sing his way through his apartment, like honey dripping by the spoonful. “Darling, would you like a bubble bath instead?”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦ #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 ✧ #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #bsd x female reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x fem reader #dazaibsd #dazai x y/n #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

[luveline]

hi! i loved you’re bodyguard james au sm! could i request something super fluffy with bodyguard james, maybe reader getting ready for bed and james doting on her <3

omg yes of course, thank you for your request! some mutual pining with bodyguard!james x fem!reader

"Do you think it's silly, sometimes, that you have to wait outside my door?" you ask James, hip popped against the doorframe, tired and lagging and wanting his attention.

He's thankfully deigned to turn to you, though his position is ramrod straight. "Not really."

"I understand when I'm out of bounds, but... you know, my door locks."

"You know as well as I do a lock won't stop some people."

"How about two locks?"

"Enough," he says. There's so much fondness there that you step forward. James gives you a stern look, which might be intimidating because of his general tall, lean shape if he were anyone else but himself. "Go get ready for bed."

"You can't boss me around," you say, and then turn into your room to get ready for bed anyhow. His laugh follows you.

You leave the door open and James doesn't move to close it. It's nice to have his company, to hear the lightest echo of his breathing. You live in such a quiet house, you'd almost think it was you and James alone.

But you're never alone.

"Jamie?" you ask, shrugging out of your soft cardigan.

He hums rather than answer.

"Do you get tired?" you ask, ducking down to look in the vanity's mirror.

You start to pull the jewellery from your hair one glimmering gem at a time, and then pull off the heavy, elegant chain of your necklace. Both easy enough. It's the bracelet you struggle with; the catch isn't manoeuvrable with only one hand.

"Sometimes. You know somebody swaps with me at one though? I don't stand here all night."

You approach him with a little more shyness than before and offer your wrist. "Can you help?"

His fingers slide over your skin obligingly.

"You work such long shifts. One to one. That's twelve whole hours. Don't you think that's excessive?"

"I'm head of your team. It's my job."

The bracelet unclips. James lowers it into your open palm, where it pools. A snake of tiny gems. You close your fingers around it.

"You don't think it's hurting you, all this working?"

"Pajamas."

You huff and head back into your room, dropping your bracelet into the mirrored tray you keep on your vanity. You'll put it away properly tomorrow in the safe jewellery box, but for tonight it'll live with your clips and chains.

"It doesn't hurt me," James says.

"Do you get all the sleep you need?"

"Eight solid hours."

You know he eats enough. He swaps out sometimes with other people to eat lunch, but usually he just eats it with you when you ask, and you always do. It doesn't exactly fit any professional boundaries.

James is your friend.

Maybe.

You grab some clean underwear and pyjamas and change right there in the middle of your room. James won't peek. If he did you wouldn't care. "You have enough time to yourself?" you ask.

"Interested in my private life?" he asks. You can hear his smile, his suggestive eyebrow raise.

"It's more hours than anyone should work, is all. Maybe you could change to eight."

"Ah, trying to get rid of me," he corrects himself.

You push your arms through the sleeves of a dainty nightgown and laugh. "Absolutely I am."

"Have to try harder than this."

You neaten the skirt and frown at your legs, wondering if they look a little dry, and decide some body lotion won't hurt. "Mandarin or lavender?" you call.

"You said the mandarin one made you itchy, last time."

"But it smells really good."

"That's the lotion eating at your skin."

You wrinkle your nose and bend at the waist to moisturise your legs. You wish you could brag and say it was an erotic, film worthy affair. It's mostly a scrabbling of your palms up and down. You sigh and work it up your thighs until you're soft to touch all over.

"If I weigh it up," he says suddenly, seriously, more serious than you're expecting, "it's less work to take longer shifts with you. I'd rather spend the hours watching you than orchestrating other people to watch you... I quite like looking after you."

He clears his throat. "Not that I look after you," he says.

You pad out into the hallway. James has turned his back to you. His arm tenses almost imperceptibly under your hand as you reach for his elbow.

"You definitely look after me." His skin is smooth. It's so hot under your touch that you can feel it moving up into the heels of your palms.

"It's my job," he says.

You'd thought about kissing his arm. Thought about it. His comment snaps you into reality. A goodnight kiss in any form at all would be inappropriate. He might like his job, but it's still a job.

"Where would you be, if you didn't have to work?" you ask.

"Come and stand in front of me," he says gently.

You do as he says. His eyes follow over your outfit. You let yourself believe his expression softens, though your logical head knows it's not the truth. James might be sweet on you, and he may even know how you feel about him, but that's where it all ends. He doesn't like you. He's paid to be here.

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

"That my socks aren't doing their job. Is it cold in here?"

"What are you really thinking?"

He's very patient with you when it comes to stuff like this. It's confusing, because James has about as much patience as you have subtlety.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm okay."

"Well, you look lovely. What an incredibly short nightgown," he praises amorously.

You flush with heat but decide you'll feed into his dramatics rather than tell him what's really wrong with you, stepping back to do a clumsy spin. "Picked it with you in mind, handsome."

"Yeah? Anything else?"

You gasp. "You overstep your station, good sir."

"I can't be blamed. You always look your softest before bed."

Your breath catches. You stop your flaunting and flouncing abruptly to look into his warm face. He looks to you, letting his arms fall from their crossed position to either side of his defined chest. Your eyes flit between his beauty mark. One to the left of his hawk-shaped nose, one below his lashes, three down his left cheek.

It's weird to want someone and have them this close, and know you will probably never, ever have them.

"If I didn't have to work," James says, face as impassive as his stance, a closed book. "I'll show you."

He holds out his hand. You don't take it. He thrusts it forward again.

When you finally give James your own, he spends a moment rubbing the back of it with his thumb like he's never felt it before.

He leads you into your room. He's been in here before, of course, but still, it's a lot to be led. You don't have a clue what he's doing, you think Oh, he's taking me to bed. But he skirts around it and brings you to the first window, pulling the curtains to one side.

He points. "See there?"

You follow his finger. "The gates?"

"The gates."

"James, I don't understand."

"That's where I'd be, if I didn't have to work. They probably wouldn't let me in, but I'd wait right there by the gates for you."

"That's not funny," you murmur.

"I'm not joking."

You grow very still. James drops his hand into the curve of your neck and follows it over the slope of your shoulder. It's affectionate, sweet, and very, very soothing.

His lips touch the side of your head, though it might be accidental. You're tired enough to imagine he's kissed you. "Brush your teeth, shortcake. And then bed. You have a long day tomorrow."

"Oh, don't remind me," you mumble.

"Okay, I won't."

He squeezes your shoulder one last time, clears his throat, and returns to his post. You brush your teeth and try not to sneak glances at the back of his head through the gap of the ensuite door.

#james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #marauders era #marauders #bodyguard!james potter #bodyguard!au

[house-of-daena]

my dear puppet [kabukimono x amab!reader]

content: no specified pronouns, afab!kabukimono, dom reader/sub kabukimono, nsfw, virginity taking, vanilla, corruption, size kink, tell me if i miss anything.

꒰ (pre fatui scara btw) this was supposed to be for a different post, but it didn't fit the concept so i just made this into a separate post. hi am back ꒱

he makes it so easy for you to lose control.

to just grab him by his ridiculously slim waist each time he presses his body against yours, to push him against a wall and finally capture his lips each time he pouts so cutely at you, or to make him cry prettily as he takes in your cock whenever he looks up at you with his big, innocent doe eyes that sparkle at the mere sight of you. he was so small compared to you, your own hands could easily grab both of his wrists if you wanted to.

though, he doesn't realize your struggles when it comes to restraining yourself against him.

he clings to you, almost too much, ever since you discovered the abandoned puppet inside shakkei pavilion. he cries your name whenever he's uncertain, he tugs on your sleeves when you've begun to stray farther from him- he was similar to a baby duckling. he was far too pure and innocent for the world you live in, and you intend to help him; teach him everything you knew; happiness, sadness, anger, love- about being human.

unfortunately, his innocence proves to be more of an inconvenience, especially to you. there are just some things that the puppet couldn't understand, no matter how many times you've clarified it to him.

he doesn't understand the immense desire you have to have him laying underneath you, squirming and crying whilst he rakes his delicate fingernails down your back. truly, it was his fault for filling your mind with such uncouth fantasies. he may be innocent, but he just wouldn't listen. the more he learns more about the world, the more stubborn and curious he becomes. so he unknowingly pushes your buttons to the limit.

his soft, unblemished hands touching you in places you'd warned him not to; fingertips lightly caressing your inner thigh as you sip on the tea he had prepared for you, slowly testing your patience by brushing his slim fingers over the growing bulge on your crotch, his face suddenly oh so close to you, lips inches apart. despite all of this, his eyes were filled with pure, genuine curiosity... and a tiny bit of mischief from disobeying you.

where did he learn all of this? you'll have to talk to the married ladies in your village later on...

the raiden shogun herself can strike you down if you were lying, you exasperatedly swore to the people who'd notice the puppet's rather explicit advances towards you that you've explained to him what these actions meant. still, he continues to be curious, wondering why your face gets all red, your breath getting caught in your throat, your hands itching to touch him, instead of looking down at him in disgust and pushing him away.

the kabukimono doesn't really understand the whole concept of what he was insinuating, making love, as they call it, but he does know that it's meant to deepen the bond between two people. people that are in love. and even he could tell that when you look at him, it holds a different kind of fondness. him, and only him. he kisses you on the corners of your lips, hands pressed against your wide chest- slowly, he became more bold. you've told him to stop, but you hesitate. you never once told him you were discomforted at his actions, he could sense that you were quite enjoying it, craving desperately for more, but would rather gently scold him for the nth time.

you're just, but a man after all. a man with wild carnal desires for the puppet that straddles your lap. he was too innocent, too pure for you. once you delve deep into your urges, he will become corrupted, perhaps starved for more; addicted. merely touching him sent shivers down your spine. you had warned him, hands shakily settling on his hips as he lowers himself down on your lap finally, and yet he chose to accept it. if it was you, the person he loves with his whole heart, the person that never treated him differently than others, the one who taught him everything when it comes to love, he would let you corrupt him again and again, just to hold you close to him, to feel you, your love and your entire being.

he doesn't understand the weight of his words or the consequences of his curiosity. so you'll make him understand.

you shouldn't have doubted that your dearest puppet could never get more precious than he is now. lashes glittering from the tears that rolled down his pink cheeks, and lips that opened and closed simultaneously as the pretty noises that you never thought you'd hear escaped him. his chest heaved at each moan, his legs tightly wrapped around your waist as if he refuses for you to ever pull away from him, and his hands, so gentle and small, cupping your face. how he managed to maintain eye contact with you whilst you slowly plunged yourself deep inside his walls makes you wonder, but it only added more fuel to your burning fire of passion and lust for him.

he was so sweet, whispering loving praises only meant for you as you fuck into him. as much as you want to just grab his ankles and fold him, to just relentlessly pound your thick cock deeper into his quivering pussy, you held yourself back for the sake of the love of your life. he cried at the feeling of your dick drag agonizingly slow in and out of his pussy, clamping so tight onto you despite the foreign feeling of being so full. he desperately desired more as he pulled your face closer to him, kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

but you wanted to be gentle with him first. you wanted to make him feel how much you love him, that you accept him for who he is, despite all his flaws. with every inch, you bury deeper amounts much more of your affection for him. leaning against his caring touch, you bring your hand up to your cheek and placed it atop his hand.

you could always do the things you've fantasized about him now that you have him wrapped around your fingers, you know he'd let you do anything to him. as long it was you, only you. you'll return his love for you by sending him into a deep spiral of pure bliss by simply loving him.

#» asmo's writings #» kuni/scara/wanderer #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #sub genshin #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

[qu0kkarambles]

Day 25 - Hyunjin

Warnings- smut (minors dni), cum play, oral, unprotected sex,

Walking up the stairs to hyunjins studio was always tiring, the multiple flights of uneven steps in the dark making for a longer than necessary journey every time. And yet you loved his studio so much. The vintage light fittings and exposed brick, coupled with the thrifted furniture and all of his art proudly on display. Stepping into the room felt like a hug from your best friend, the room so intrinsically ‘him’. Every inch of the room felt like hyunjin, and you could never get over it.

Today was no different, stumbling up the steps in the dark as a low melody played quietly above you. The music got gradually louder as you climbed higher, the door to his studio propped open with a small stool as you reached the entry. Peering your head around the corner, you saw him sat, face full of confusion as he stared at his recent canvas.

Something was missing. And he’d been stood for almost an hour trying to figure out what. When he saw you hovering in the doorway, he waved you in, asking your opinion.

‘I know somethings missing but what?’ He said as he positioned you in front of the canvas, your eyes trailing over the masterpiece. You were awe stricken, obsessing over each tiny detail as you took in the entirety of the piece.

‘Hyun it’s beautiful, honestly. I don’t think anything’s missing’ you said, catching him staring at you when you turned to face him. He held your gaze, eyes locked and suddenly the music changed. As a slower, more sensual song began lowly playing, his eyes danced over your body, trailing over your curves before lingering on your lips.

‘What is it hyun? Is there something on my face?’ You asked, a finger absentmindedly trailing to touch your lips as you tried to wipe whatever had caught his attention from your face.

‘You look real pretty today princess’ he said, ‘you’re distracting me too much I can barely think straight.’ He chuckled as he spoke, your confused face lost on him as you wondered what he was rambling about.

‘Hyun, wha-‘

His lips crashed against yours, cutting you off as his hands found your waist, holding you close to him. When he broke the kiss, you leant your forehead against his, panting as you spoke.

‘Hyun- what- I don’t understand’

‘Please y/n. Need to feel you. Please’. His begging made you lift your lips to his once more, all worries leaving your head as he moaned into the kiss, his hands lifting you into his arms.

He walked you backwards, positioning you on his vintage sofa before stripping your lower layers of clothing from your body. With your top still in place, you were bare from the waist down, laid out for him. You felt exposed under his gaze, but he soon dipped his head between your legs, and all thoughts left your body as you felt his tongue against you.

His tongue was skilled, and soon you were panting under him, soft moans falling from your lips as you bucked your hips under him. Your legs began to shake as you released on his tongue, his chin covered in your release. As he kissed over your stomach, you could feel his arousal against your thigh, reaching your hand between your bodies to grasp him.

When his lips crashed to yours, you could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue sweet with your release. He grasped himself, jerking as he looked down over your body, desperate to have you surrounding him. He lined himself to your entrance, pushing into you as you let out a low moan, hands grabbing his shoulders as he chased his high. His pace was animalistic, his high getting closer and closer as you came around him again.

When his hips stuttered, you entangled your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on the strands as he filled you with his cum. His movements slowed until he stilled, kissing over your skin as he caught his breath.

When he pulled out from you, he could see how his release filled you up, his cum almost dripping from you. He scooped his release from your core, one hand holding your mouth open while his cum-covered fingers swiped over your tongue. You moaned out, desperate to suck on his fingers as he continued to feed you his cum as it dripped from you.

When he kissed you once more, he could taste his cum on your lips, the mixture of both of your releases on your tongues making him needy again.

‘Stand up.’ He said, demanding. When you didn’t move, he grabbed at your wrist, ignoring your dazed face as he put your clothes back on, standing you infront of his canvas.

‘Let’s go princess. We’re not finished yet’

Taglist- @jungwonseyebrowsonflick @sunghoonmybeloved @lix-freckle3 @yoswagmuffin @meuusea

#kpop smut #kpop #kinktober #kpop kinktober #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #skz smut #skz hyunjin smut

[creat0r-cat]

Iplier Egos x reader HCs - Their Favorite Non-Video Game

Dark: Chess

I think he would enjoy how complex and mentally challenging it can be

Chess is also considered a relaxation game for some people

So I wonder if maybe he’ll play chess in order to calm himself down when the other egos (or someone/something else) is driving him up a wall

If you play chess and you’re good at it, you’d probably be his favorite opponent

If you don’t know how to play, he’d be happy to teach you

He’s always happy to spend time with his darling

Wilford: Pie Face or Headbands

It depends on his mood

One moment he’ll be taking the risk of being hit with whipped cream, the next he’ll be crying because of memories of “That Night”

He’s haunted by his past and it really does affect what he can and cannot play at times 

When he’s not in the mood for Pie Face, he’ll sometimes play a fun little game like Headbands

A guessing game that can become very chaotic very quickly

Life needs a little madness and that sounds like a good way to set it free, especially if it’s with you

Actor Mark: Poker

He has a gambling addiction

Probably

It’s a way to get more money for his “luxurious” lifestyle 

If you play with him, trust that he’ll be flaunting his victories in your face

If he loses, he’ll act like it never happened or give a lame excuse as to why he lost

If you don’t play, that’s probably for the best

But at the same time, if he’s playing against other people and you’re with him, he’ll use you as a kind of “good luck charm” instead of a competitor 

That’s just his way of bragging to the others that he has such a lovely lady by his side

Yancy: Charades

It kinda matches up with his musical hobby

Since charades is a game of movement and guessing, he’d probably enjoy it

Also, it’s a multiplayer game so he could play with his fellow prisoners

If everyone is busy, you can play with him, just the two of you

He’d figure out how to say “I love you” in body movements without using sign language or actually touching you

He’s really good

Illinois Jones: Any Card Game

He has limited space when he packs for an adventure

If he’s going to take a game to play while he’s out and about, it should NOT take up much room him his bag

That’s why card games are his favorite

They are very entertaining and don’t take up much room

Even a simple deck of playing cards can go a long way

He loves playing with you, his partner and girlfriend

It’s nice to play with someone rather than being stuck in a single player game for a long time

Dr. Iplier: Operation

It’s like practice for his job but it’s a game

Those tiny pieces are especially tricky and he LOVES it 

He feels very happy and accomplished when he completes the entire game without getting Cavity Sam’s nose to light up

If you play the game with him, then expect him to guide your hands from behind

Like that romantic yet annoying thing that couples do when one of them is working on something

He gets really close, his whole body pressed up against yours

When you successfully extract a tough object, he’ll whisper praises in your ear 

You can feel his warm breath and it sends shivers down your spine every time

If he wants to really make you flustered, he’ll nibble on your ear and kiss your neck

Just a little something he does with you and you alone

Google: Google Feud

I don’t think this counts as a video game

Anyway, he likes to extend his knowledge by playing this game

It helps improve what he could potentially expect one of his “brothers” or you could ask him at any time

His primary objective being what it is

If you decide to play with him, he’ll enjoy seeing your facial reactions when you read off the answers, or seeing your smile when you get something right

He might be a robot and not fully able to understand the concept of love

But he truly enjoys spending time with you, someone who treats him just like a normal person

It’s something that makes him feel human

Bing: Cards Against Humanity

Why does that game just seem to fit his personality (and search engine)?

It’s goofy, funny, and at times inappropriate, just like him

It’s a game he can enjoy with a lot of people

Unfortunately, he can’t play a one-on-one game of CAH with you, his girlfriend, but he’s happy that he can enjoy time with you alongside the other people in his life that he cares about

Yandereplier: Hide and Seek

What’s more romantic than a friendly game of hide and seek?

Especially when he didn’t know that he was going to be playing until you’re already hiding

His heart races as he searches each and every room for you

Whenever something makes a sudden sound, his head whips toward it so fast you swear he could get whiplash

After a while he’ll find you 

He always does

He’ll hold you close and say how much fun the game was and how much he loves you

He’ll also whisper that you should never surprise him with hide and seek again lest you never see the light of day again

He does care about you

He’ll do anything for his sweet sweet senpai and girlfriend

Even if that means keeping you away from the world

Head Engineer Mark: He’s Down for Whatever

He doesn’t really play games because he’s too busy

However, if you ask, he could probably take some time off and play a game

Of course, none of you really packed anything so it’ll likely end up being a game like Sticks, Checkers, Chess, Tic-Tac-Toe, anything that you guys can make or have on hand

It’s nice to take a break and have a little fun

It takes his mind off of things

#markiplier egos #x reader #iplier egos #wilford warfstache #darkiplier #yancy #illinois #illinois jones #a heist with markiplier #in space with markiplier #head engineer mark #engineer mark #actor mark #yandereplier #yanderiplier #illinois jones x reader #darkiplier x reader #yancy x reader #actor mark x reader #googleplier #bingiplier #googleplier x reader #dbz #markiplier #bingiplier x reader #google irl #dr iplier #Dr Iplier x reader #markiplier egos x reader #headcanon

[hunter-sylvester]

Hi! I’m the anon who wrote the ask about Hunter’s parental issues and about his attachment to Kevin. Thank you for answering my asks, I absolutely love the way you write and how you explain everything! You’re extremely talented!🫶

I honestly didn’t notice how in love Hunter was with Kevin until I watched the movie a second time. It’s crazy how you can literally see all feeling in Hunter’s eyes when he looks at Kevin. I also loved how you said that their relationship fits a BDSM bratting dynamic, because I totally see it.

[and as someone who has ADHD and deals with RSD on a regular, I completely understand him. It sucks.]

Hey 🤘 [prev ask for context] Yeah I obviously couldn’t be 100% sure they were from the same person but it definitely makes the most sense lol

Thank you so much! I’m really glad you enjoy my rambling thoughts about Hunter as a character <3

If you do like my writing, I’m tempted to sheepishly gesture over to my actual Metal Lords fics over on Ao3 if you haven’t checked them out, even tho it makes me feel like a bit of a dick to do so 😅 (They are mostly locked to registered users, blame AI data scraping. The only Metal Lords fic not locked rn is a tiny ficlet. An Ao3 account is free tho 👀)

In any case, I really appreciate that you pushed me to do a bit of analysis again. Because sometimes I tend to forget that all the stuff that lives in my head as “obvious” isn’t always stuff I’ve said out loud on here lmao

There’s a lot to pull from the film if you’re willing to be a bit mentally ill about it.

And you’re absolutely right about the way he looks at Kevin, I mean, it happened enough for me to make a whole ass gifset of it lmao

Look at him. The boy is smitten. Clueless, of course. But smitten.

Which I credit basically entirely to Adrian Greensmith, as it was a vision he had for the character. I really can’t imagine Hunter having been played by anyone else as he brought so much to the role. (Fun fact, if I remember correctly: Noah Urrea, who plays Clay, originally auditioned for Hunter. No harm but I'm very glad he didn't get that. He makes a good Clay and Hunter just needed to be played by Adrian.)

One of the key things Adrian brought to the role also being, probably accidentally, his anxiety.

"I spent a lot of Metal Lords feeling a bit anxious [...] and in hindsight I wonder if some of that was just a sign that Hunter was quite an anxious character [...] I mean his body's so tense all the time." - Adrian Greensmith.

I shortened that quite a bit so I'm including a slightly longer clip of the interview audio for more context. (I can upload a subtitled video clip if anyone wants that as well as link the video on yt but I'd have to do a bit of a search for that)

Aside: If I had to guess I'd say he's probably referring to Peter Sollett who directed Metal Lords when he mentions a 'Pete'.

And yeah the bratting thing was a little bit of a joke but mostly not a joke. Without going absolutely off the deep end, the mentality behind bratting is something I really see in Hunter.

Evie Lupine has a wonderful video about bratting and why people would be interested in it (and why some people hate it) but a short snippet that always spoke to me from that is the following:

"The motivations behind bratting are pretty varied. I think one of the main ones would be a sense of security and comfort. This is when the acting out is sort of a way to be reassured that even when you, break rules, even when you push at things, the partner that you're with is not going to abandon you." - Evie Lupine

Obviously, with Hunter's fear of abandonment, it's easy to see why this would appeal to him.

He also just...idk he has brat energy - sincerely, a brat.

And Kevin does just play out the counterpart to that. He doesn't always have Hunter under control but he tries to.

And he does mostly act as that safe person to brat against, which again amplifies the impact it has when Hunter starts to think he's actually losing Kevin, destroying that feeling of safety.

Aside: I obviously don't think that these characters, in universe, negotiated for a bratting dynamic. In universe it'd be something that just sort of organically developed within their friendship/relationship. But even more than that it's an archetype of a dynamic that we as the audience can easily read into their interactions if that makes sense.

Can you believe the shit they will accidentally put in movies? lmao

And yeah, I have ADHD as well. And RSD is something that affects me pretty fucking severely. I've only really become more aware of it in the past year or so as my partner has pointed it out more and more.

So it's definitely something that I then noticed more and more in Hunter too.

Obviously this is all just my take on the character, and other people might have totally different interpretations. That's the beauty of art, we all get to find what we need in it and read it in our own ways, influenced by our own life experiences.

Thank you again for asking, Anon 🤘 (if you want to use a nickname or smth to identify that you're the same Anon, let me know. If not, that's totally okay too, but I might not always know it's you)

#this was supposed to be more CASUAL and it kinda is?? just still...long lmao #it's over fucking 800 words again #metal lords #hunter sylvester #answered ask #hunters asks #anon ask #hunterwriteswords #character analysis #adrian greensmith #kevin x hunter #kevin schlieb #my post #gifs

[novelmonger]

2-4, 13, 16, and 24 for any fandoms, please?

2. a headcanon you weren't sure about at first but have come to like!

I used to get kind of annoyed when FMA fans would talk about Roy Mustang being Xingese. Like, what, just because Arakawa-san drew his eyes a little pointier than other characters', that means he's from Xing? Some people just have smaller eyes, you know! Yoki looks more Xingese than Mustang, if you ask me, yet nobody talks about him being from Xing!

But I've read some really interesting fics that explore what it would mean if he was Xingese, or half-Xingese. The implications of one or both of his parents being Xingese immigrants, legal or otherwise, can be really fun to poke at.

3. a character that fandom has helped you appreciate

You know, if I'm being really honest, I never particularly cared about Merry from LotR that much. He just didn't interest me, compared to all the other characters. But I have to say that hanging around the Fig Tree Discord server has given me new appreciation for him, because of how much they talk about him in such glowing terms XD He's still probably my least-favorite of the four main Hobbits, but I have to acknowledge that he is one practical dude who can Get Stuff Done, and there's so much courage and angst and hurt/comfort in his scenes in the Battle of Pelennor Fields and the aftermath.

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship (it can be another ship in your fandom, a mutual's OTP, etc)

Mmkay, so I don't ship Bucky and Natasha (mostly because I don't ship Bucky with anyone post-Winter Soldier), but I will say I can understand the appeal. Two ex-assassins who were turned into living weapons, basically, had their bodies modified against their will, carry a huge weight of guilt for the things they've done.... I feel like, if Bucky were to have a successful romantic relationship with anyone, it would pretty much have to be Natasha. She's the only one who could relate to him on that deep of a level, and she would understand his need to go slowly, know how to help him with PTSD, etc.

13. your favorite type of fandom event (gift exchange, ship week, secret santa, prompt meme, etc)

I think I'd have to say prompt challenges, considering I've done three 100 Themes fics, have an ongoing one-sentence prompt challenge fic, and am currently doing my Let Me Count the Ways dialogue prompt challenge. A really good challenge will have words or phrases that immediately suggest a story, but aren't so specific that you have no wiggle room to fit it to various characters.

16. a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

This keyboard thing from Andor episode 7 is made from a steno machine! The little typewriter-ish device court reporters use when transcribing court proceedings! I would recognize it anywhere, and I just want everyone to appreciate the origin of this cool-looking prop.

24. how has fandom positively impacted your life?

The most important thing fandom has given me is virtually all the friends I have today. I've met some of the most wonderful people in the world through fandom, people I probably would never have met because of where they live (@dairogo I'm looking at you), because we wouldn't have much in common without fandom (hi @rainintheevening), or simply because we're enough apart in age and space that our paths would probably not have crossed otherwise (<3 @sergeanttomycaptain). I love being able to connect with so many different people through fandom, like most (if not all) of my mutuals here. Even though we have different perspectives on some things, we can all come together when it comes to love of a great story.

Love Your Fandom asks

#ask and you shall receive #valiantarcher #ask games #sorry this took a couple days! it's been a busy week

[pencopanko]

Hello! ;) I was wondering about your Coco OC Rafael. Who is he? How does he know the Riveras? I think you mentioned once that he's Rosita's love interest? Basically, I just want to know more about him. (Assuming it doesn't give away spoilers for anything, of course!)

Hello, hello! Rafael is actually an OC originally created by my dear friend B who was known as heyheyitsjuju or now known as @sheepwithspecs . They're no longer active in the fandom, but I was given permission to use their OCs in my stories too and I will always credit them as the original creator. He first appeared on Chapter 9 of a fanfic titled "Echar Agua Al Mar", but unfortunately that fanfic is no longer available online. However, thankfully B and I talk about him still along with other OCs related to him, so here is a list of things about him!

Rafael Herrera Meza is a musician-turned-talent scout/music producer from Jalisco who died in the 70s. He was originally going to take over his father's oil company (the Herreras are extremely rich), but turned down the offer to focus on his music career much to his father's chagrin.

Rafael and Papá Herrera reconciled in the main timeline, though! His father was the first face he saw in the Land Of The Dead after he woke up.

He had a tiny Holland lop named Chavela whom he loved dearly throughout his childhood, and when she passed away when Rafael was around 15 or so he was inconsolable for days. Fortunately for them both they reunited years later in the Land Of The Dead, and Chavelita is now his alebrije! She is even tinier now, as she can now fit in the palm of his hands and can hide inside his sombrero.

He only had two friends growing up: Chavela and his cousin Samuel. Samuel and Rafael look similar to each other (like Marco & Miguel-level similar), but Samuel is a lot more outgoing and extroverted. He is also more angular than Rafael who has softer features. Samuel was also the one who ended up inheriting the oil business. The both of them are still very close.

Him having only two childhood friends was due to his upbringing. He was homeschooled for most of his life, and the only social interactions he had outside of his family and the family staff was with his teachers who would come to the Herrera residence to teach him lessons like math, music, and languages including but perhaps not limited to English, Arabic, Catalan, Chinese, etc. Due to this, he is also extremely book-smart and speaks or at least understands multiple languages.

He loves to read and watch adventure movies. His favorite film is "Los tres mosqueteros", and I'm sure he loves Indiana Jones and Tintin too!

Meta fact: if one is to compare him to any fictional character, he is most similarーif not identical by natureーto Geronimo Stilton.

He's known Héctor for a very long time in LOTD, and it was one of his best-kept secrets. When the Sunrise Spectacular Confrontation happened in 2017, he was all the way in Jalisco and only found out about it after receiving multiple messages in his answering machine from Ronaldo (another one of B's OCs), a mutual friend of his and Héctor. The three of them met at a cantina belonging to another friend of theirs named Toño.

He connects with Héctor due to their shared disdain towards how the mainstream music industry had become filled with music that is too polished. Due to this, Rafael takes his job very seriously and insists on discovering the "diamonds in the rough" and other musicians who love music just as much as they do.

He is an extremely talented and charismatic singer/performer with a stage presence only rivaled by de la Cruz (and later Héctor Rivera), and a baritone voice that is so strong that nobody could expect such a voice coming from a body like his . According to this post, he could have ended like de la Cruz easily since he also recorded some albums and even has a cult following in both realms, but really he only ever performs for other people's enjoyment. Plus, that is just his onstage persona and he prefers the business and backstage side of music.

He is actually extremely shy and introverted, and also has social anxiety disorder. His shyness goes up by the tenfold if he comes across women he has never met. Instead of going out to parties for high society or whatnot, he would much rather stay at home. "Here" by Alessia Cara and "party" by Dodie Clark represent his feelings towards such events.

It gets worse if he comes across a woman he loves. Those who had been involved romantically with him would describe him as very gentleman-like and softspoken, but the one complain they all have is that it would take him MONTHS to PUT HIS HANDS ON THEIR SHOULDERS. Well. A certain rosy lady has a different story, however :3c

When it comes to romance, he wants a a woman who is alright with moments of silence, is trusting & trustworthy (he travels quite a bit due to his job), and isn't afraid to make the first move sometimes. He is a gentle lover who tends to shower his lover with gifts and sweet nothingsーor in Ronaldo's more crass comment: he is a sugar daddy with a thigh fetish.

He has always had a weak heart, and even in death he can still feel the side effects thus he cannot do too much physical activities outside of jogging or stretching. He passed away some time in his late 50s due to heart failure. His cousin's daughter whom he treated like a niece was the one who found his body.

Don't let his shyness, small stature, and "wimp" nature fool you, though. He eats spicy foods like they're candy and he is well-respected in the production company he works at. He has a silver tongue and has what the kids nowadays call "big dick energy" in corporate settings.

He also has a dry sense of humor which is somewhat contrasted with an extremely contagiously bright laughter, though he usually only chuckles most of the time.

You don't want to see him angry. Héctor, Ronaldo, and Toño can atest to this. His silver tongue can be extremely sharp.

As a musician, he can play multiple instruments but his favorite is the piano.

Rosita and Victoria first saw him performing at the plaza, as told in Chapter 9 of "Echar Agua Al Mar", but they never interacted. Until a faithful day when Rosita took a trip to the plaza with Coco. He was singing "Hermoso cariño" and winked at Rosita in his performer persona when their eyes met. All flustered after listening to and gazing at Rafael and seeing him wink at her (these darn músicos!), Rosita quickly left the plaza with Coco following behind. After the performance, he couldn't help but think of that lady he just saw. She was... beautiful. The way she looked at her made his heart flutter, to the point that he winked at her! There's no way that he would meet her again.... (or was there?)

Héctor was the one who introduced Rafael to Rosita and the rest of the Rivera family. After a few shots of tequila, Rafael finally confessed to Héctor on what was bothering him that evening. Seeing this as a golden opportunity after hearing a similar story from Rosita, he dragged Rafael to see his family, much to Rafael's embarrassment (and perhaps, lowkey, to his delight).

There are so much more to him than this, but I can't post them all now because the content can and does get ✨spicy✨ at times and because there really is a lot, but he is a loveable boy and I hope you'll get to love him too! He also appears as a character for an original project B and I are working on under the working title "Project Marigold". Rosita isn't in the story for obvious reasons, but we created an OC inspired by her so that way he can always be with his beloved rosy lady regardless.

#coco pixar #coco oc: rafael herrera #coco headcanons #coco headcanon #coco au: the bar boys #rosita rivera #rafita #yupyupyup #penco answers

[swanimagines]

hi! your writing is absolutely gorgeous and I wanted to thank you for all the lovely work you've shared with us 🥰 I completely understand if you're not up to it for whatever reason, but I was wondering about an imagine where Kaz's confession is "you're not allowed to die" + a reader who just gets it? gender neutral reader if possible, but I understand if for whatever reason you're not up to doing it- writing can be hard and inspiration doesn't always hit the same, wishing you the best <3 <3

Fandom: Shadow and Bone/Six of Crows

A/N: Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you'll like this too then!! I'm not sure how I'll categorize this, I guess as a gif imagine? It doesn't pass the oneshot length so it's a gif imagine in that case but it's a gif imagine with two scenes which is not a gif imagine. Mini-oneshot??? Tagging this as a gif imagine in any case because this isn't fitting to any other category but yeah. Also I decided to bend the request category boundaries because of this + added even more request types, check my stuff I write page to see the new stuff!

@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r asked to be tagged on this 😊

Warnings: blood, injury, reader visits Death's door

IMAGINE KAZ CONFESSING HE LOVES YOU BY TELLING YOU THAT YOU AREN'T ALLOWED TO DIE WHEN YOU SUFFER A LIFE THREATENING INJURY...

Your quick reflexes had saved your life at more than one occassion before, but this time it was too late, the knife had pierced your stomach before you even registered what had happened. The adrenaline made you act before pain kicked in, making you shoot the bastard right in the head before you collapsed on your knees on the cold ground.

Is this it? You thought as you felt blood pooling under your body. You knew that working as a Crow meant dangerous situations all the time, Ketterdam was merciless for people who lived within her. But somehow you didn't expect to die like this anyway, with some guy basically teleporting in front of you and stabbing you.

As your consciousness started to fade into darkness, it was like Inej's Saints heard your silent pleas of being saved. You heard footsteps with an extra click hurrying towards you and you tried to say his name.

"Kaz..."

No sound came out through your bloody lips, and you barely saw how his figure knelt beside you. You blinked, trying to sharpen your vision to look at the man you had unrequitedly loved since you were just a teenager, but could just make up his clothes.

"Stay awake," you heard him say. "Y/N, stay awake. Don't fall asleep."

You shook your head, it was so hard to hold onto things anymore. "I'm dying, aren't I?" It was almost funny. After everything you'd been through, here you were about to give yourself over to death, in a dirty alleyway in the worst district of the city. If you wanted irony then Ketterdam had supplied it without hesitation.

"You're not allowed to die." Kaz said, and you barely distinguished him anymore from all the other blur around you. "Do you hear me? Y/N?" His voice sounded just a tiny bit different with your name, you thought to hear a sprinkle of panic in there. And that scared you more than anything else did - if Kaz panicked, you knew the situation was bad.

"Please don't let me die," you managed to croak out past your bleeding lips. "Not yet. Please."

You heard Kaz shuffle and he said something, before you faintly heard another pair of footsteps approaching, but before you got to know who was it, you slipped under.

***

Warmth surrounded you as your eyes flickered open into a dim room. The feeling of being alive washed through your limbs and your chest rose and fell again in response. You glanced around carefully, not even sure if your death had been a dream - but then you groaned as you felt a sharp sting on pain on your abodmen and felt bandages against your skin. You let out a whimper because of it, and immediately after that you heard shuffling from the corner of the room, hearing a cane hitting the floor.

"Don't move."

A voice cut through the air. You turned towards the sound, seeing Kaz's silhouette emerging from the shadows.

"Kaz?" you mumbled and soon he was standing by your bed, taking in deep breaths and you heard leather creaking, signaling he squeezed his cane with little more force than necessary. "Are you okay?"

"Your heart stopped at that alleyway and again when we got here, but Nina managed to resurrect you." He answered with a strained voice and you frowned at his tone. "You're lucky you survived."

You thought for a moment, recounting the events that had happened just before you passed out, and frowned at one particular sentence Kaz had said.

"Kaz?" you mumbled and he looked at you with an arched eyebrow. "You... I remember you saying I'm not allowed to die. What did you mean by that?"

Kaz shuffled uncomfortably at that, sighing. "You still work for me and I would have no use for you if you were dead. Our agreement on your job is still on."

"That's it?"

He didn't answer to that and was avoiding your eyes, and from that you knew it had something more than him being afraid of just losing a Crow because of jobs, whether he wanted to say it aloud or not. So you just bit on your lip, feeling like your heart was about to burst. Maybe your unrequited love wouldn't be so unrequited after all.

---

Tags: @musicallisto @take-me-to-ny @retvenkos @number-0-iz @kaqua @readingslumpfanfic @dancingwith-sunflowers @shadowhuntyi @rika90 @imma-too-many-fandoms @the-abyss-gazed-back @thereagles @louweasleymalfoy @malfoys-demigod @mxltifxnd0m @dustyjjumpwings @whatiswrongwithpeople @ellora-brekker @brekkers-desigirl @heyitsaloy @mentallynotstableghost @scandalous-chaos @nyx2021 @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd @supervalcsi @doutorbaizhu @bb-skyrunner @lightprincess-world @animalistic0 @story-scribbler @writingmysanity @lovemenotplz @directioner5life @imaginesfire @thevipers-world @anotherdudetteinthisworld // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of my fandoms you want to be tagged on! Don’t just say “can you add me to your taglist” as I can’t know what taglists do you mean by that!! ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #sab #sab imagine #sab x reader #my works #gn reader #shadow and bone gif imagine #sab gif imagine #gif imagine

[thequeenofthewinter]

If it's not too late to be sent these, I would love to see your commentary on this scene.... It has lived rent free in my head since the moment I first read it!

However, Dahlia continues to hold tightly to him, refusing to stop healing him while trying to place a ward over them both, but it blinks weakly in and out of existence. The Dragonborn is tired, and she has overextended her magical abilities. Her magicka pool is significantly depleted due to overuse. It’s all she can do to keep a weak healing hands spell going over Ulfric.

While her lightning has never hurt her before, this Shout is indiscriminate with who and what it targets. She has no idea if their close proximity will stop the bolts from striking Ulfric. But there will be no risks taken today, not when the stakes are so high. This is especially the case since the last time she used Storm Call, it was to test exactly what it did, and she was lucky that there was no one else around. It struck all of the deer, goats, and rabbits in a 100-foot radius, and that was only the first word of the Shout; now she has used all three. She doesn’t trust it not to strike him, even though she is holding him close.

She can feel Ulfric’s eyes on her as several bolts begin to strike the ground around them, making contact with the trees, the wildlife, and the Yolnahkrif’s slowly-burning body. Not for the first time in the last month, she wonders what he could be possibly thinking about her—how he probably thinks she a monster. Who on Nirn should have this much power?

Then, finally, the sky unleashes the last of its fury, and one last bolt falls from the sky, aiming for Ulfric and confirming her suspicions that their proximity will not save him from herself.

Dahlia desperately pulls deeper at the last dregs of her magicka, pouring everything she has into her ward, but it still won’t keep its form. The only thing she can do now is hold him as tightly as she can with one arm as she feebly throws up the other, as if her bare hands could stop what is coming. Tiny, exhausted tears fall from Dahlia’s eyes as she hopes that her magic will hold.

When the strike finally makes impact, it crashes into the barrier, causing her to falter slightly, but one of Ulfric’s bruised arms reaches around her to help hold her up. She will not fall, not when he is there to catch her. They promised they would do this together, and he will keep his word. At his touch, the ward blazes brighter, finally flaring to life with full power as if fueled by what he feels for her.

The collision of magic against magic causes a shower of sparks to rain down upon them—a dazzling spectacle of light, throwing them both into stark relief—shedding light brilliantly as the electrical currents fall and glimmer. However, this wondrous phenomenon—an outstanding feat of both science and magic coming together—is completely ignored by the only two people who can see it. They are completely blinded to it as there is only one thing either one of them sees: the other.

It's never too late for you, my friend. <3

I am so glad that you liked this section...it is also one of my favorite things which I have written, and I very distinctively remember writing it. (And also trying to lean in pretty heavily into the dramatic imagery of what is going on here.)

The whole thing in general was really important to both of them especially when the context of what had just happened to Dahlia (and consequently between the two of them). There are a lot of threads here which come together where we have: the end of the dragon arc, Dahlia trying to figure out herself and where she fits, and then well, "the power of love" or something similar to that. (I am a sap.) So, what we have here (in the whole chapter actually) is all of that coming to a head.

Dahlia is determined and she isn't going to give up, especially when it comes to Ulfric. (Even if currently she would like to throw a shoe at his head.) She has finally found someone who understands her and accepts her for what/who she is...and she has finally found that she won't let him go and she will do whatever it takes to keep him safe.

The magic and chaos around them is kind of a backdrop for all of that--despite all the odds of whatever is going on around them, they will persevere together.

#thank you for asking me about this #I am really truly very fond of this particular snippet #winter answers asks

[the-ravening]

You know I need to ask about Zemo/Torres, Secret Sugar Daddy because I also have a fic with a similar name and I want to know how close ours are to being the same fic because of FCCU chats 😂

We have definitely had this convo before, and our similarly named WIPs are 100% based on the same FCCU chats. If you ever get back into Zemo someday, I would totally love to write this fic together because it was a great idea.

For anyone else who’s wondering (and @zsparz you asked about this too, I’ll be answering yours next), this is a story where Torres is working with SBZ on missions, and picks up a daddy on a sugar baby app as his side hustle. He doesn’t know his sugar daddy’s real identity, and of course, it’s Zemo.

Here, have everything I've written, since it's not much.

Torres mentions to his daddy that his upcoming job is somewhere warm and the next gift he receives is a selection of skimpy speedos, which he makes good use of when their mission gives them the chance to turn one of Zemo’s fancy Mediterranean villas into their safehouse for a few weeks. The place is like something out of a travel guide, with its lush courtyards and outdoor patios and grape-trellis enclosed pool area. While they have a few days to kill, waiting for their contact and running remote surveillance, Zemo spends much of his time lounging poolside, wrapped in one of his many fine silk robes, fruity cocktail in hand, designer sunglasses perched on a slightly sunburned nose. He gives off the air of a man oblivious to his surroundings in his pampered state of leisure, but Torres gets the sense that behind his dark glasses, Zemo is watching him closely as he swims.

He should be weirded out by it. He should feel uneasy, left all alone out here to fend for himself against Sam and Bucky’s adopted terrorist. He knows what kind of man Zemo is, has read his files and details of all he’s done, has spent enough time with him on these missions to understand not to trust half the words that drip off his honeyed tongue. But the truth is, having the older man’s hungry gaze on him is a bit of a turn on. The intense midday sun glints on the water as he does lazy laps around the pool, and he can imagine how it must look rippling over the lean muscles of his back. As he pulls himself up onto the ledge after his swim, rivulets of it sluice down his chest, catching in the dips of his well-defined abs. He’s got a nice golden tan already, just from spending these first afternoons in the sun here, and he can feel Zemo’s eyes linger on him, running down his body appreciatively to settle at the telling bulge of his growing hard-on. It’s titillating having Zemo’s attention on him like this, and the tiny, form-fitting swim shorts don’t hide a thing. He lets Zemo get an eyeful as he slowly towels off, reveling in the thrill of being watched. Not one to miss an opportunity, he makes his way back to his room, still dripping wet and hard, to take some mirror selfies for his daddy in the ensuite bathroom. He’s well practiced at it by now, knows his best angles, turning just so into three-quarter profile to show off his tiny waist and clenching his muscles to get the desired definition. He squeezes a hand over his cock, gives it a few strokes over the speedo to get it nice and plump for the photo, and then snaps a few in quick succession, making sure to emphasize how well he fills out the tiny shorts. Choosing the best shot, admiring how the light and shadow plays over his golden skin, what a fucking meal he looks like with the thick head of his cock threatening to burst out from the waistband of his shorts sitting low on his hips, he sends it off to his daddy with a quick message consisting of a string of eggplant and sweat drop emojis. He doesn’t have to wait long before his phone dings with a reply. I knew you’d look delectable in them, his daddy writes. Stream for me now? Torres throws a glance out the window overlooking the pool to make sure Zemo’s still sitting out there on his lounger, and he is, right where Torres left him. Fortunately, the man seems completely engrossed with something on his phone, so Torres can be fairly certain he won’t be interrupted or overheard, can even make some extra noise while filming for his daddy. He starts up a video call and trails a hand down his chest, over the firm plane of his stomach, slowly inching it down to dip his fingers beneath the stretch of hot pink and neon green lycra where the hefty bulge of his cock is tenting the fabric…

And lest we forget, this is the Torres thirst trap selfie that inspired the fic:

#WIP meme #answered ask #@ex0rin #ravening writes #zemo/torres #I worked on this today just so I'd have more to share and I had SO much fun with it #this is truly the best fic idea it needs to be written at some point

[nacaharachuya]

God i can imagine chuuya being a fiend so well but i HATE the idea of it. Because if chuuya would be a fiend then it’s not actually chuuya, yknow?

Like… wouldn’t that technically be arahabaki if we’re going with chuuya being the corruption devil? That’s why i feel like hybrid fits more than fiend. Maybe he could be like asa and yoru? (But what even ARE they the wiki says yoru is a fiend so turns out your body can host a whole fiend while keeping your conscience/soul or whatever??? I don’t even want to think about this rn i just don’t get it)

I imagine chuuya being a mix of denji and aki. He lived a similar childhood do denji but he HATES devils like aki. He made a contract with one when he was 7 but that did not fuel his hatred for them. But then that also has me wondering why would he make a contract with a devil? What was the corruption devils wish? Would it be something malicious or would it be something sweet like the dream pochita had???

Csm au is so good but there is SO much to think about it becomes confusing. 😭😭

DUDE I thought the exact same thing. Like Chuuya being forcefully coinhabitated like asa. I thought it fit because the corruption devil could be what anyone thinks of themselves as corruption. No one person will have the same shared idea of what it is, and chuuya—someone who holds himself to a pretty harsh standard of what he believes is right—would be able to wield it well I think.

So if he did end up sharing consciousness with the devil, I’m not sure how he would take that. Arahabaki isn’t a real god or demon or anything, it just has the equivalent power of one. Damn near limitless energy they tried to stuff into one little being. That also gets me thinking about the gravity thing again. I was a physics major before so I was all over this shit. Lots of people fear it more than you think. People are afraid of falling due to their own pull of gravity, people are afraid of losing their balance, having something heavy fall on them, being too close to another car when driving, fear of outer space; which all ties into barophobia. Gravity is actually much scarier than a lot of people think because we honestly have no clue what it is in the actual realm of things. It is an attractor we cannot understand because we simply have not looked at it long enough, and every person and being and little tiny microscopic thing has gravity effecting it. Also, black holes which are collapsed because of gravity. All of that mass compressing under it starts to break down and essentially rip and tear apart the fabric of space time 😭

I got so carried away with this actually don’t let me talk about physics. BUT BACK TO THE CONVO I also imagine him being a mix of Aki and denji with the extremely tough upbringing but extreme loathing. Chuuya takes a lot of shit from others, but not as much as denji. He’s got that chip of self sacrifice always on his shoulder because of his empathy. In this au he would be backed into a corner and forced to make a contract. I’m not sure he would ever adopt a devil even if it looked like a animal🧐 Chuuya is about self survival first when he has no one depending on him. If he made a contract, it would be in the worst situation possible because Chuuya wants to keep himself as himself first and foremost. I’m sorta getting justice devil vibes though….but he would have a monopoly over the devil he makes a contract with, I don’t think he’d be willing to share. And the devil would probably like taking over his body/sharing its power with him because he’s an incredibly dedicated vessel.

I LOOOVVEEEE THIS AU IT IS CONFUSING BUT U LOVEE IT!! SEND MORE IDEAS GUYS IM EATING THESE UP!!

#bsd #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #csm au #asks #in all over it #when I thought about the asa thing happening on TWT I thought INWAS some genius #Chuuya 🙏 denji hard childhoods

[purpleyoonn]

안녕하세요 마리! (Hello Mari)

How are you doing Mari??

I didn't send a lot of asks cause I want you to enjoy your trip and at nighttime for you to take enough rest as much as you need to be fit for the next day again.

And I saw a post about Abmol chapter 14, my face went from this 😊 to this 😳 real quick and I didn't expect that to come yet- but anyway I want to ask if you can give a tiny little bit (one line) spoiler for any story of yours?

Thank you so much Mari for begin so strong and nice and sweet and understanding and amazing and wonderful and beautiful and cute and I should stop-

Anyway

- Yours truly only 🦙 anon (that look like a homeless person that didn't sleep for 3 weeks and don't worry about me I'm doing good now)

안녕 내 RJ 친구!

while I did try to enjoy myself, the trip ended up being just like...eh? like I had fun, but I am so used to taking care of my sister and putting her needs and wants first that I didn't get to do anything that I wanted to do. which is mostly my fault but also because my sister complained the entire time and I had to push her in the wheelchair two days while she didn't even say thank you.

OOOO so I have a fic im working on,,,that is definitely one of the future works that ive talked about before.

“This is your punishment, and theirs.” Sereia motioned to his brothers who were slowly coming to after being hit on their heads from behind. 

Jin could not help the rage from shaking his body. 

“You would punish me for finding my soul? For loving that which is rightfully mine?” Jin spat at the smiling woman, anger and confusion almost dripping from his lips. He could not understand what had happened to the woman, what had happened to make her so blind to fate. 

this is definitely more than one line but I am too excited🥰

im definitely excited and possibly getting in over my head but I couldn't help but start writing this fic (even though I already have like two in my drafts waiting for the right time to be posted).

#purpleyoonn #purpleyoonn ask #🦙 anon

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Girl Who Lied by Shannon Hollinger

Chief Maggie Riley #1

Excellent ~ Couldn’t put it down!

What I liked: * Chief Maggie Riley: brilliant, capable, skilled detective, has secrets, derailed professionally after losing her younger brother and moved to Coyote Cove, Maine, in a relationship with her neighbor-Steve, upholds the law, have a feeling she has an agenda that will play out in this series

* Steve Winters: financial wiz who lost his fire and moved to the country, understands and loves Maggie, has secrets, sometimes depressed

* Wanting to know the secrets Maggie and Stever are holding close

* The murder mysteries to be solved and finding out who the murderers were

* Being glad I was NOT friends with more than one character in this story

* The setting, plot, pacing, and writing that was emotive, visceral, visual, immersive, emotive, and at times humorous

* How all the pieces fit together seamlessly

* That it made me think and feel and care and consider the “what-ifs”

* Wondering what will happen next

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about how evil, cruel, abusive, and amoral some people can be and what it would be like to be raised by such a person

Thank you to NetGalley and Bookouture for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

There’s a storm approaching the tiny Maine town of Coyote Cove when Chief Maggie Riley comes across the body of a man, blood seeping from stab wounds into the damp forest floor. As she desperately struggles to secure the evidence before the rain hits, Heather, a local teenage girl, emerges from the woods, shivering and unable to talk. Maggie, once a high flying big-city detective, lost everything when her four-year-old brother went missing five years ago. Heart-broken, she’s never stopped searching for him: but now she is plunged back into the world she left behind. The victim, Maggie discovers, knew secrets about everyone in isolated Coyote Cove. It seems there are more local suspects in this case than people she can rule out. And with Heather still traumatized, Maggie struggles to unravel her strange appearance at the crime scene. Until, following a faint, bloody trail deep into the forest, she’s horrified to unearth what the terrified girl’s been hiding… But when Heather is kidnapped, the battle to identify the killer becomes a race to save a girl’s life. And with the whole town terrified, Maggie is shocked to uncover that this twisted killer is much closer to home than she’d ever imagined. Battling her own demons and memories of her missing brother, how far will Maggie have to go to save Heather? Or will another innocent young life be lost forever...? A totally addictive crime thriller packed with suspense. If you love Lisa Regan, Louise Penny and Melinda Leigh, you’ll love The Girl Who Lied.

#shannon hollinger #netgalley #bookouture #Chief Maggie Riley 1 #whodunnit #murder mystery #fiction #suspense

[ellana-ravenwood]

“You’re not my real mom !” - Batkids x Fem!Reader (Batmom)

Synopsis : A story about those few dreaded words : “You’re not my real mom”, said by the batkids, to you, in a the heat of a moment. And the aftermath of it all... 

This has been in my draft for ages. I hope you like it :) : 

my masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

DICK 

It happened so fast. In a quick moment of anger. 

A flash, a bang, words said too quickly to truly realize their meaning. 

Dick was frustrated because he felt you didn’t understand him, his point of view. And you were trying to explain to him that it was not okay to...

You know what ? 

You couldn’t even remember what he did. As if whatever it was, it was all wiped out of your memory when he pronounced those bone chilling words. 

You only remembered you were “scolding” him, just like parents do when their child did something he wasn’t supposed to. You rarely told Dick off, even when he would burst into fits of anger. 

You always told him : “When you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son, I love all of you.” 

And you meant it. Often, you or Bruce would take the brunt of his anger, without batting an eye. After all, that child went through a lot. It was totally normal for him to lash out at times. 

He saw his parents died right in front of him. It wasn’t a trauma that would be solved that fast (Bruce was proof of it). “The magic of love” couldn't simply cure someone who was so deeply hurt. Although it helped, over time. 

Yes. Time. 

It would take time, and support, for Dick to heal. And you were here for it. Here for him. 

But there were times, you had to say something. 

Usually, it was when he was being too reckless. 

Your son could be overzealous, and go too far. And you were so worried about his safety and wellbeing...Very rarely, you’d have to “scold” him. 

And you couldn’t even remember what you were lecturing him about that evening (even if you had an idea it was about being a little more careful). All you remembered was...

“You’re not even my real mom ! You can’t tell me anything !” 

And him turning away from you, crossing his arms and refusing to look your way. Which was good anyway, because you were an instant mess. 

“Ok”, you managed to say, wondering how the hell you were able to get the words out. And then you left. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. And your heart slowly breaking. 

Bruce found you two later, both clearly feeling down... 

Dick stayed quiet the entire time they were on patrol, and Bruce instantly knew something was wrong. He wasn’t there during your fight, and he only arrived when you were already gone, surprised that you went to bed so early in the night, and didn’t stay with your son downstairs until it was time for patrol... 

The man didn’t push the boy, waiting for him to open up if he wanted to. And as usual, Dick did finally speak up. In a weak voice, as they were surveying the city from a rooftop, he said :

“I told her she wasn’t my real mom...” 

“Ah.” 

Bruce felt the urge to go back home and console you, knowing that you were certainly a mess, right now. But he had to take care of his boy, too. 

And oh, oh Dick looked so crestfallen and sad as the meaning of his words slowly etched into his mind. 

“I told her she wasn’t-she wasn’t-but she is I just-I-I don’t know why I said that-I...” 

The little one was on the verge of tears, and Bruce understood why. 

He probably understood more than anyone else. 

He told Alfred “You’re not my dad !” more than once, and remembered how even the stoic butler looked, whenever he said it. 

He remembered the hurt in his eyes, the resignation too. The “very well sir”, said in a neutral manner, but the stiff way he’d left the room. 

It took Bruce a while, to finally realize that Alfred WAS his father. That he raised him, most definitely. And was always there for him during the hard times. 

That he even helped and supported him, when he came back after disappearing for years, saying : “I’m going to dress up as a bat and wipe crimes from Gotham”. ...How many parents would be that understanding, eh ? 

Alfred knew Bruce. And always tried to do his best for him. So whenever Bruce would yell at him that he “wasn’t his father”, it hurt. 

Bruce knew it. He noticed how Alfred’s entire demeanor would change. He’d see a light go out in his eyes. 

“Very well, sir.”, a small bow, and the stiffness of his body as he left...

And Bruce remembered. 

The guilt and the pain he felt himself, as he regretted ever saying those words. As he knew they were going to hurt, which is why he said them in the first place.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt his adopted father, oh no. It was that sometimes he just...He just felt so angry ! Like everything was unfair ! And he missed his parents so much ! 

It was a force stronger than him, he wanted Alfred to leave him alone, and pushed him away...”You’re not my dad !”. So yes. Bruce understood little Dickie. He understood you, too. He knew how you must’ve felt, he saw it enough happening to Alfred. 

Once you’d get home, he would take care of you. But right now, he had to care for his son. 

Right here, on one of Gotham’s rooftop, the scary and mighty Batman slowly kneeled down, and took his boy in his arms, holding him tightly. 

Dick didn’t need more to throw his arms around his father’s shoulders, and hold him strongly too, with all his nine years old strength, sobbing slowly. 

Bruce drew soothing circles on his back, and whispered : 

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. It’s ok. Calm down, things are going to be ok.” 

Your husband lost count of the time passing. Were they there, holding each others while Dick was sobbing uncontrollably, for ten minutes, or for ten hours ? He didn’t know. And he didn’t budge.  

His son needed him. Just like once, he needed Alfred... 

Dick fell asleep in his arms, and that night, Bruce came home early. 

Not like he was going to stay out anyway, knowing you were probably devastated, all alone in your room... 

************

Dick fell into a deep sleep, and didn’t budge one bit even as Bruce came down the building, rode home, and put him into bed. 

Bruce’s guess was that all the pent up feelings truly exhausted him. Also, he knew that crying could be tiring. And freeing, in a way. 

Putting the boy’s blanket all the way up to his chin, Bruce laid a kiss on his forehead and then rushed to your shared bedroom... 

You had cried too, but you were not asleep. 

Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks marked with your tears. You seemed surprised, when he came in, and looked at the clock. 

It was only midnight ? 

“Hello, my love.” 

He sat down next to you, and from the way he ran his fingers through your hair, and caressed your cheek, wiping the salty tears from it...You knew he knew.

He knew how devastated you felt. How those simple words that would mean nothing for many, truly wounded you. 

He knew how much you loved that boy, how as soon as your eyes laid on his little face that terrible night he lost his parents, you felt like he was going to be your son one day. 

He knew how much you’d sacrifice for that kid’s happiness, how far you’d go to keep him safe...And so, how hurtful him telling you you weren’t his real mother must’ve felt.  

There was no need for words. 

He knew what to do. He laid next to you, and you just cuddled up to him, letting him wrap you up in his warm embrace. 

He drew those same soothing circles on your back than he did on Dick’s. And whispered : 

“He didn’t mean it. He truly didn’t. He loves you, you know. I love you too.” 

You fell asleep to his words of love and reassurance, finally letting go after hours of not being able to sleep, reenacting the terrible scene in your head over and over again, making yourself feel worst each times. 

************

You woke up around 4 am, with Bruce’s arms wrapped around you.  

He was asleep and escaping his grasp (without Alfred’s help) took you a little bit..but you managed to leave without waking him up. 

He did groan a little at the loss of your warmth, and grabbed your pillow to hold it against his chest. Which was extremely cute, and oh how glad you were to be the only one to see this side of him. 

You went down to the kitchen and... 

Dick was coming from the other door, opposite to the one you took.

The kitchen had three access. Two doors facing each others, and one on the third wall. The door you took was because you got a little lost and did a detour through the drawing room. Dick, however, came from the door you should’ve come from too, which was the one you accessed from the West Wing third corridors, which was directly under your bedroom, and Dick’s. 

The boy probably stood up a little after you, and while you got lost in your own home (again), he took the normal way and...

Boom. Here you both were, arriving in the kitchen at the same time. 

There was a small silence. Awkward. And...

Your heart tightened. 

Dick was sort of cowering backward in fear. Fear of what ? 

Oh. But of course. 

“He didn’t mean it.” 

Bruce whispered to you many times, before you fell asleep. And the way Dick looked at you, worry in his eyes...He was thinking you were mad at him. And the regret in his pupils was as obvious as that fact. 

“Ice cream ?” 

You ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and you can almost see the gears in his brain trying to piece everything together. You’re...not mad at him ? 

Of course you’re not. You felt sad, and lost, and hurt, yes. But never did you feel any hint of anger. Of course not. 

You take out his favorite flavor from the freezer, and settle a bowl in front of one of the high stool around the counter. 

At that time, Dick was so tiny. A very short little bean. And he’d stay small for a long time, only having a sudden spurt when he was around fifteen. 

He climbed onto the stool, and watched you as you gave him some ice cream and a spoon, and then sat down next to him to eat some as well. 

The silent was slowly turning less awkward. 

Slowly, and unsurely, Dick picked his spoon up and looked at you. And completely missed his mouth, the ice cream spreading on his cheek instead. 

You turn around to look at him, ice cream on his cheek, and he’s clearly embarrassed, as a tint of color slowly rises on his face. 

You don’t really know why, but something snaps in you and you start laughing. And laughing. And laughing. 

Because honestly, the kid missing his mouth as he picked his spoon up full of ice cream, is kinda funny right ? And also, all the tension and stress you felt suddenly broke with this simple, silly thing. 

Unsure at first, Dick just looked at you. But your laughter quickly spread to him, and soon enough, you both were bursting out in laughter. 

Anyone not knowing what happened, would probably think you were both crazy, laughing that hard for no apparent reasons. 

Instinctually, you ruffle his hair and Dick gasps. You really weren’t mad at him ?!

You realized what you did, and slowly, both your laughter subsided. There was a small silence as Dick stared at you, and you stared back, and then : 

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it !” 

He says in a small voice, and he can’t add anything else as you just pick him up and hold him tight against your heart, and you say : 

“I know.” 

And it’s all he needs to realize you’re not really mad at him, and although he messed up and hurt you, right now, you were both on the path of recovery... 

Next morning, Bruce woke up alone in bed, which greatly distressed him as usual (he often woke up first). But a gut feeling was telling him that...

He found you asleep with Dick in his bed, holding him tightly. 

************

After that event, you sat down with him, so you could have a serious talk about the underlining issue this raised. Talk about something important. 

“Little bird, you know I love you, right ?” 

He nods, but still cannot speak quite yet, doesn’t have the energy to. 

“I want you to understand something. Something vital. Are you listening ?” 

He nods again, his eyes fixed on you. And he’s listening, oh he definitely is. 

“It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to lash out. It’s ok to not be alright. It’s ok to make mistakes.” 

He nods, a little slower than before, and you can see his eyes slowly becoming wetter and wetter. 

“It’s ok. It really is. I’m here. And I love you. Even when you don’t want me around. Even when you push me away. I’m here. And I always will be. Ok ?” 

He nods one last time, unable to hold his tears, and then his little arms latch around you, and he refuses to let go for well over an hour...

Oh. Sweet, sweet boy. 

Your son. 

************

Even now, at age twenty seven, Dick still often think about this day. And the regrets are as burning as they were back then. 

He often thought about it. 

Whenever you did something for him, went out of your way to make him happy, or were just there for him, always...

He’d have a flashback of this day, and feel nothing but regret and anger at his younger self. 

And then you’d read him like an open book. Know exactly what he was thinking, and would slowly shake your head, and say : “I know I often said that, but I will say it till the day I die if I need to :  when you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son. I love all of you. Even when you’re a little bit of a jerk.” and you’d wink at him, making him chuckle and feel a surge of affection toward you. 

Kind of like the ones you’d feel sometimes. A sudden urge to hug your family, to tell them what they mean to you. Both you and Dick understood since a long time that with the life you all lead, you never knew what could happen, and should never waste a “I love you” if you felt like saying it. 

Well, the apple never fall far from the tree ? 

Yes. Because you were his mom. And nothing would ever change his mind on that. Ever. 

JASON 

"Well Jason, you did it you idiot !” 

He says to himself in the mirror, and oh he could’ve punch himself if it was possible. He took his desk chair, and threw it across his bedroom, letting out a scream of frustration. 

He went to his desk, and threw everything that was on it on the floor. He then went to his book shelves and...

There. Your book. The one you wrote for him. 

Jason fell to his knee, holding his head in his hands, crying softly. 

Yes. Yes he did it...He ruined this one chance life gave him to have parents. 

He hurt one of the person that meant the most to him, one of the person he loved the most...His mom. You. 

Because you were his mom, no matter what he told you, in that moment of anger as you scolded him after he did something dangerous during one of his patrol. 

He hadn’t been allowed to go out for long, by then. And Bruce had already scolded him before for the very same thing, so when you did it too, he had enough and...it happened before he could think about it. 

He was angry, about the lack of trust and about the sermons, and his brain tried to hurt without even thinking about it. Triggered by years of living in the streets, where he had to think quick and act right away, and then suffer the consequences. If he wasn’t fast enough, it could be the end of him... 

A gut reaction triggered by years of being all on his own, having to fend for himself. His brain went into overdrive, “hurt” is what it set into motion. 

“You’re not my mom !” 

And that was it...

As he saw your face fell, and his father’s face turn angry, he knew. He knew he messed up. He messed everything up, as usual !

“Jason !” 

Bruce called, but Jason wasn’t about to stop. He ran out of the cave, right to his bedroom. Oh, oh but if only he stayed a little longer. He’d realize that his father wasn’t angry, just hurt as well. 

Hurt to see the woman he loved being hurt. 

Not angry. Ah but being in pain could sometimes look like you are mad ? And Bruce hadn't been able to hide his frown as he heard Jason’s words... 

“Let him be, Bruce.” 

You say in a weak voice. You knew Jason, you knew sometimes he needed to cool down on his own. That he could be impulsive, but always came around. 

Ah. But that time, he needed everything but to be alone. 

Because, as he thought he ruined his one chance at having a real family, he thought... 

“Better to leave before they throw me away !” 

He knew he could never bear to face you and Bruce, as you’d certainly tell him you were “un-adopting” him. Jason saw it happened before. Someone thinking their adopted kid was “too much”, and sending them back. 

It was awful, of course. But it happened. For real. And Jason knew that life could really suck...But her couldn’t bear to face you as you’d send him away. 

Worst, what if you just send Alfred and that was it ?

No. Jason would leave before you could do that. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. 

Filling his backpack with some clothes, and snacks, he opened his window and slid down the gutter all the way to the ground, and then ran away into the night. Tears trailing down behind him, as he left behind the one place in which he ever felt safe, warm, and loved. 

In the meantime, you and Bruce were unaware of that, and slowly falling asleep in each others’ arms... As usual, Bruce was there for you. 

************

“Jason ? I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore after you got adopted by dem fancy fellas. Are you here to get some work ?” 

“No.” 

“Really, why did you come then ?” 

“I didn’t, I’m just passing by.” 

“Nah, don’t believe it. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy !” 

“TAKE IT BACK !” 

As he ran away, Jason went back to a place he thought he never would need to. A few intricate alleys, in the Bowery, under the main city. 

The Bowery, a filthy underground neighborhood, hell on Earth for many. Although things did improve when Batman started his work a few years back. 

“Wow there tiger, relax.” 

Jason came in this specific area for only one thing. Retrieve a few items he left behind, thinking he would never need it again because he was leaving behind this life. 

He had a hideout, not far. In which he hid some materials to survive in the streets. He thought he probably had to go back to stealing cars’ tires...Although maybe he should change it. Thinking of what happened last time he did this hurt his heart. 

He knew that next time he’d get caught stealing tires, the person wouldn’t end up adopting him...Anyway, he didn’t want any other parents but you and Bruce. 

And he messed that up so bad, by being so mean to you ! 

“Listen, it’s not because you got all fancy schmancy that you can talk to me like that. Remember who’s boss in this part of town.” 

Batman did a lot of good to the city, but also, by getting rid of some big players in the “crime business”, he allowed small time thugs to climb up the ladders...It felt, at times, like there always was someone to replace whoever Bruce just put behind bars... 

The man who was talking to Jason, used to be a small time criminal. Turned boss, when the Batman kept arresting all the people above him. Jason used to “work” for him, bringing him watches or jewelry that he’d exchange against cash. 

Damn. He never thought he’d ever see him again... Oh and he definitely didn’t think this through. 

As the new boss, who’s name was Johnny Clancy, told him that he’d forever be a “bad boy”, Jason saw red and...getting mad at a crime boss was a bad idea. 

Before he could even think about an escape plan, Jason was surrounded by dangerous armed men. 

“How dare you talk to me like that ? Mmm. The Waynes adopted you right ? Mmm. They’re loaded. Probably would pay a fortune to get you back uh ? And to think they’re gonna give me a lot of cash to get a little runaway brat back haha. Because that’s what you did right ? You ran away ? As you always did before mm ? You know, I observed you Jason Todd. I saw you run away from anyone getting close. I saw you.” 

Jason’s heart didn’t need anyone to push and squiggle the knife he felt in around some more. He had just lost his family. Did he need more reminder that he always fucked up ?! 

“They won’t give you any money, they don’t want me anymore...” 

But Johnny didn’t believe him, of course. He told two of his thugs to grab the boy, but Jason, by instinct, dropped them to the floor with a few well placed kicks and punches. 

And that was enough to unleash Johnny Clancy’s wrath.

See, he was a new boss. He had to assert dominance. And an eight years old kid making a fool of him and his gang ? That wouldn’t go. 

So what if he had to off a child ? Anything to keep climbing up, and leave the Bowery’s slums. 

************

“Have you seen Jason ?” 

Bruce asks you, a few hours after your fight with him. 

“What ? No, I thought he was with you ?”

“No, he skipped his training and I thought he might be with you, apologizing for what he said yesterday ? You know, sounds like something he would do.” 

“I haven’t seen him since, you know. I thought he was avoiding me...” 

“He would never.” 

“Bruce...” 

“He would never, my love. I know what he said hurt you, but I’m sure he’s regretting it right now. You should go see him, he’s probably sulking in his bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if you meet him up the stairs as he comes down to say sorry.” 

“Bruce...” 

Your husband comes to you, and takes your hands in his. 

“You know him. He’s impulsive, and a little abrasive sometimes. But he’s a sweet child. And he regrets his bursts, you know it. Tonight was just tough, we both scolded him, he’s not used to it.” 

“You’re right.” 

“Of course I am, I’m-”

“I swear to God if you say “I’m Batman” I’m going to smack you.” 

Bruce smiles softly at you, glad he managed to at least made the tension go away a little. He pecks your lips quickly, and watches you as you leave to go to your son’s bedroom. 

He was about to go down the Batcave, when you came back, panicked : 

“He’s gone ! Jason’s gone !” 

Ah. Bruce knew that placing a tracker in his children’s molars was a good idea. 

************

“HOW HARD IS IT TO CATCH A FUCKING KID ?!” 

Jason runs as fast as he can, without looking back. He managed to break the line of thugs coming at him, and escape in-between to of them who didn’t pull their guns out quite yet. 

They were shooting at him. With no hesitation. 

Johnny was set on proving he was an unscrupulous boss. To earn everyone’s respect. So what if he had to shoot a kid ? It’d send everyone a message. He’d back off from nothing ! 

Jason turned in an alley and...Damn it ! He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point, it had been a while, since he roamed the Bowery’s alleyways...

He was faced by a wall, stuck. And they quickly caught up to him. 

“Wooouh, you’re fast kid. And you’re sneaky. Too bad you’re such a brat, I bet you could be a nice addition to our-”

Johnny Clancy never finished his sentence. In fact, he never could properly speak after that night. After getting his jaw broken into a thousand pieces by the Batman’s fist. 

Bruce had come down from nowhere, with...you in his arms ?! 

This was the first time Jason saw you wear the costume he saw a few times in the Batcave. He thought you wore it only to go to the JLA’s watchtower, to hide your identity. Not that you could actually...fight ?! 

And wow, you definitely could hold your own ! You made a few disarming pass, taking the guns away from all the men before they could even react, and letting Bruce finish them off with well placed kicks and punches. 

Oh and that night, the Batman unleashed his rage and unforgiveness full force. How dare they touch his son ?! 

You didn’t have anything to envy from your husband either, however, as you worked through Johnny’s gang rather fast too. 

That night, the both of you exterminated (figure of speech, of course, neither of you ever killed, that was the one big rule...but there were never a rule against breaking a few bones) Johnny Clancy’s gang, who dared to even think of hurting your precious son. 

Jason, holding his backpack tight against him, couldn’t believe his eyes. You two came to save him ? But...why ? 

He messed up. You’d surely not want him around anymore ! 

Once Bruce dropped the last man, you rushed to Jason and before he could utter a sound, took him in your arms. 

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re safe baby, I’m so glad you’re...” 

Your voice broke at the end, and you chocked, the emotions too strong and squeezing your throat. 

Jason didn’t understand. And through his surprise, he managed to say : 

“I thought-I thought you’d never want to see me again, and that you wouldn’t want to be my mom anymore.” 

You hold him even tighter, as you feel Bruce get down on his knee and bring the both of you in his arms. 

“Oh sweety, never. Never.” 

You say, not letting go. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...” 

Your son manage to choke out, before sobbing profusely and holding on to you and Bruce. 

“I’m just glad you’re safe...it’s ok, it’s ok it’s already forgotten...” 

And it was. As soon as you saw that Jason-That your SON, was missing, you forgot he ever told you “you’re not my mom”. You forgot and it truly didn’t matter anymore, as all you cared about was to find him, and make sure he was safe. 

“Jason, oh my little Jason, I’m so glad you’re safe...”

Wether it is a conscious things or not, he returns your embrace fiercely, holding tightly as he looks up at you. It almost feels like he wants to make sure you really are there. And won’t go anywhere. Like everyone else did in his life. 

Jason was tired of losing those close to him. Those he cared about. Sometimes, he’d push them away, by fear of getting attached again just for life to rip them away from him. So he held onto you, as you held him back. 

Tightly against your heart. 

“Mom...” 

This was the day Jason Todd realized something very important : He wasn’t alone anymore. He had parents who loved him, and he loved them back. 

So much. 

And they’d never let him go. Never. 

************

Years later, this love he had for you and Bruce, turned out to be the very reason he became “Red Hood”. 

From that day he told you : “you’re not my real mom !”, he felt like he belonged. Like finally, the people he loved loved him back. Like he was cherished. And then Bruce didn’t avenge him. He let Joker get away. And you let him do it. You, the people he trusted and loved most in the world, betrayed him...

He felt like he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth Bruce breaking his one rule to avenge him. He wasn’t worth it...He didn’t matter enough. 

Jason felt so angry. For years. He wanted to hurt you, to hurt Bruce. To show you what it felt like. What HE felt like. 

But Jason has always been a strong one. You knew it. You told him enough times : “you’re a fighter, my Jason. You went through so much, and always came out of it. You lost a lot on the way my little one, but you never give up. You never give up...” 

You never give up. 

Love. 

It’s what drove him to become the Red Hood. It’s what drove him over the edge. What gave him so much pain. 

Rather, the feeling of not being loved. The thought all you and Bruce said to him, about how much you cared and loved him, was a lie. 

Yes. The thought that you lied about loving him, is what broke him. What made him find every way possible to truly, truly hurt you two.

You never give up. 

He was so angry. But he never could quite give up on his family...that’s why he didn’t stay with the Al’ghuls. That why they didn’t keep him. 

He could never forget you and Bruce. Move on. 

He could never. 

Jason was a strong lad. Strong enough to see past his hate and need of revenge. His pain. His deep trauma. 

It took a while. But the change came from him. He’s the one that gave you another chance. And it allowed him to realize...nothing was a lie.

And you got your son back.

Because you showed him. You showed him nothing was a lie.

When his dad never gave up on him even as he killed more and more people, and even as Jason saw him completely erase people who used to be close from him as soon as they killed once. When you refused to let him go. When Bruce kept going back, even as he knew Jason would fight him and try to hurt him. When you pleaded with him, even when you knew his answer would be the same... 

Jason never gave up. 

But you didn’t either. 

“You’re not my mom”, are words he never meant. Not even once. Not even when he was the “old” Red Hood, the one that killed mercilessly any criminals, and that was trying to be exactly what Batman wasn’t. 

“You’re not my mom”, even at his worst, at a time he suffered greatly, Jason never meant it. He never did. 

And ultimately, it’s this filial love, and the love you and Bruce had for him, that brought him back out of the dark pit the Joker pushed him in...

TIM 

Tim knew that his overly pragmatic mind sometimes could make him sound tactless. That he had trouble, sometimes, expressing himself properly. 

He knew that what he said, although it could be the factual truth, could be perceived as not being very nice... 

He knew, yet sometimes, he couldn’t help himself. 

“But you’re not my mom.” 

He told you that day, as you asked when was the “mother/child day” at school. 

Tim’s school had a day each year, during which every mother would come and do different activities with their kids. You did it with Dick and Jason, and it was always great fun, and amazing bonding time. 

By then, Tim had been with you and Bruce for over a year now. And he did, see you as his mom. However, he was a little too set, at the time, on rules and specifics. In the “mother/child day” rulebook, it “specifically” said that the actual child’s mother had to come, not the nanny or anyone else. 

In Tim’s mind, although he did see you as his mom, he thought the school wouldn’t. For him, the way the rules were written, were clearly stating his birth mother had to come. And the official adoption papers were not processed yet. Those took quite a while. 

He had been living with you for over a year. He called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. He truly considered you two his parents. But the official papers were not done quite yet. So to him, in the eye of the law (be it a silly school rule), you weren’t his mom quite yet. 

So when he said : “but you’re not my mom”, that’s what he meant. Of course, you misunderstood...

How could you guess that Tim was thinking that only his “birth mother” could take him, because officially right now he didn’t have a mom, just “guardians”...

His mother was dead. Has been dead for a while, now. And even if she wasn’t, Tim knew she’d never come at this event...She wasn’t the caring type of mother. Not like you. Which is why it really bummed him out that those rules were so clearly stated like that !

What Tim misunderstood, is that this specific rule had been added to the rulebook because many family would send their nanny, or a big sister, instead of the mom. Because Tim was of course in Gotham’s Academy, full of rich families, in which the moms were very busy...

Which is why such a day existed. Some kids spend quality times with their mom only on this school day. Nowadays, everyone made an effort to come (the fact you appeared, the famed (Y/N) Wayne, a few years back, with Dick, and it made all the papers’ headlines, might’ve influenced others to participate too).

To tell the truth, Tim was very disappointed that you couldn’t go with him, and was considering asking the principle of the school to do an exception to the rule and allow you to go with him.  

He was already fomenting a plan in his head to convince the headmaster to let you come as his mom, and as usual when he was planning things out, he completely disconnected from reality. 

And therefor, didn’t see how your face “closed”, and your eyes turned sad. The boy was typing away on his computer, as if nothing had just happened, as if you didn’t feel your world crumble as he flat out told you you weren’t his mom...

Of course, it was all a misunderstanding. He meant it as “officially”. Not about his actual feelings. 

For some reason, the way he said it so nonchalantly hurts you more than when Dick and Jason yelled at you that you “weren't their mom”. Because at least, in your eldests’ cases, you knew it was in the heat of the moment. 

That it was because they felt frustrated and sad. 

But Tim just told you : “But you’re not my mom.” matter of factly, and moved on. And it hurt. 

It hurt so much, because that boy...You loved that boy, of course. And considered him your son for sure. Part of your heart, now. Part of your family. And he felt so far, right now...so far... 

You left the room and he didn’t even notice. 

Did he really not see you as his mom ? Was he just calling you “mom” to imitate his brothers ? ...You didn’t know, but it hurt. 

It hurt so much. 

************

You found Bruce in his office, doing some paperworks for Wayne Inc. When he saw your face, he immediately smiled, your presence lighting his whole world...But then he saw your expression, and he frowned. 

“What happened ?” 

************

“Mom ? MooOOooom ?” 

Tim had been looking for you for the past hour, but wasn’t able to find you. You weren't in all your favorite places ! Did you leave the Manor without telling him ? It was unlike you. 

Finally, he found you. You were in a room that was rarely used, but which was conveniently close to Bruce’s office, and had a couch. 

Laying on top of your husband, you were fast asleep as Bruce was going through his paperworks, letting you holding onto his waist as he kept working. 

When he saw the boy come in the room, he smiled at him. And it was hard, not to smile at Tim, seeing his own big wide smile. 

Tim was missing a few teeth, that fell not long ago, and it was absolutely the cutest, when he smiled widely. He looked so happy, eyes sparkly and genuine smile. It felt wrong to Bruce, to think that this sweet boy didn’t see you as his mom...

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding ? Wouldn’t be the first time. Although, Bruce knew how sometimes Tim could be brutally honest, and say the facts in a matter of factly way that could be very harsh on the uninitiated. 

Your son was holding a cardboard sheet almost as big as him, and looked very excited about something. He slowly approached you two, and said, whispering, yet the excitement was clear in his voice : 

“Has she been asleep for long, dad ?!” 

He called Bruce dad. Without an hesitation. And it felt so genuine. Like he was relishing in the word rolling off of his tongue. And it was often the case, with Tim. His parents, when they were still alive, never really noticed his presence... 

And sometimes, it could be even worst to have parents who acted as if you didn’t exist, than caring parents who passed away. Bruce realized this. 

“No, she just closed her eyes.” 

Bruce answers, looking at you. And oh he couldn’t possibly know how soft his expressions as as he gazed at your sleeping face. 

“Oh...” 

Tim was clearly disappointed. His shoulders fell down, and he looked on the floor, looking defeated.

“What is it, champ ?” 

“Well, I wanted her to-Oh ! Mom !” 

The rumbling of your husband’s chest as he spoke is what woke you up. Not the actual sound of their voices, just that low vibrations reverberating in his chest. 

You opened one eye, then the second, and was greeted by your youngest son’s face being very close to you. As Tim saw you were waking up, he kneeled down next to the couch, settling his piece of cardboard next to him, and approached you very closely. 

His smile and sweet expression filled your vision. And you felt even more hurt, as you saw him so happy to see you, to know he didn’t really think you were his mom. 

It was clear he cared for you. And loved you, and being with you. But to him...You weren’t his mom. And that was so painful. 

“I got a plan mom, I got a plan !” 

A...Plan ? For what ? You don’t even have time to ask him, and, still a little hazy as you just woke up from a short nap (that you took after crying exhausted you), you raise a little from your husband. 

You exchange a curious look with him, as you see Tim spring to his feet and get a hold of the piece of cardboard that is almost as tall and large as him. 

He turns it around and...

Your heart drops. 

It’s a lot of very detailed drawings, maps and words about...about...

“This is how we’re going to convince the headmaster of my school that you’re really my mom, even if officially you’re not yet !! I thought we could start with logic first, and then go down the path of pathos if he really doesn’t change his mind !” 

What ? Your brain is trying really hard to comprehend what’s happening, although it is starting to put two and two together. 

“The rules say that the mom HAS to be the one who comes, and the way they wrote it suggest that they wouldn’t accept someone who isn’t yet official. But I think we could convince that, in our heart, we’re already an official family, right ?!” 

Tim looks at you, and then at his dad, a little worry in his eyes (what if for them, he wasn’t their son yet because the paperworks weren’t finished and officials quite yet ?!?!). Bruce cannot help but smile, and nods, feeling his heart melt (a rare occurrence). 

And you. You have exactly the reaction he expected you’d have. You sit up, put the cardboard aside, and drag your son into a tight hug that makes him giggle and exclaim : 

“Hahaha mom wait I can’t breaaaathe !! Mom !!” 

But he hugs you back, knowing that this means yes, you do consider him your son already, paperworks or not, and you will probably follow his plan to convince the school to-

“Mom ? Why are you crying ? Mom ?” 

You can’t explain it to him. You feel silly, but also so emotional and touched. You thought he didn’t think of you as his mom. But he did. Oh he did, and was actually worried about technicalities of rules and...So sweet. That boy is so sweet. 

Carefully, Tim dries your tears, and look curiously at his dad, his eyes clearly asking : “Did I do something wrong ?”

You’re still unable to speak, as you hold onto him, and Bruce ruffles his son’s hair saying : 

“She’s just too happy, champ. She’s just too happy.” 

CASSANDRA

"You, not my mom !” 

She screamed. You never heard Cass raised her voice before. And yet, here, she screamed at you. And then closed her bedroom door right on your nose. 

And you felt it in your heart. That specific pain that you wished you’d never feel again. That kind of hurt you wished you’d never feel ever again. 

It happened just liked it did with Dick and Jason. You were “lecturing” her about putting herself in needless danger, and she felt frustrated at the fact you “didn’t trust her”. 

It wasn’t true of course. You did trust her. And you knew she could hold her own. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, and scold her if she really scared you... 

It was pure instinct. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling them off when you felt they went too far. You did it with Bruce too. 

Once, he threw himself in the way of a bullet to save you, and once he recovered enough...Oh you were so mad at him. 

It’s not that you wanted to take that bullet, of course. You knew it was also instinct that made him move to save you. But in truth, you would rather take a thousand bullet than lose any of them. Bruce, or your children. 

And sometimes, it was hard for them to understand this. To get why you were so worried, when you accepted fully their night activities. 

Why you monitored the batcomputer, if it was to scold them when they put themselves in danger ? 

Ah but they didn’t understand that you only got “mad” when they put themselves in NEEDLESS danger. Pushing themselves too far that one night, being careless with something, ignoring their own safety to finish a task... 

You couldn’t help but be afraid. And your fear turned into you scolding them. And sometimes, on each sides, things boiled and...

“You, not my mom !” 

The meaning was clear. As Cass slammed her door right in your face, you knew not to push it further, not to tell her anything more. 

Maybe you should’ve ? Should’ve open her door, and continue lecturing her so she’d understand her life was valuable ? 

Cass put herself in danger more than any other member of your family, because she was raised as a weapon and thought of herself as an “expendable”. You weren’t mad at her for this, of course not (but oh, David Cain probably should never cross your path, it wasn’t pretty, when you were truly angry). 

You were just worried. And unfortunately, being a parent was complicated and sometimes, your worry turned a little overbearing for your kids. 

This was a mistake every normal caring parents made. Wanting what was best for their children, sometimes not realizing they’re going too far. And you ? Your family wasn’t normal. 

Your children were vigilantes. Your worries were tuned up to the max.  

Being a parent was hard. And sometimes, both you and your kids were frustrated. It happened. In any family. 

It was resolved rather fast, most of the time. A little conversation, understanding and indulgence, and boom. Sorted. 

However, there were times when things would go a little too far. Wether because one of you was tired, or didn’t feel well etc etc...

Tonight, was such a time. 

“You, not my mom !” 

Cass didn’t even register what she said. She was just mad and frustrated, and said the first thing that came into her mind. Her hand slammed the door shut before she could even think about it. 

And here you were. In the corridor. In front of your daughter’s door. 

Hurt. And feeling as devastated as you did when her brothers told you the same thing. You would think, after a few times of this happening, it’d be easier, right ? Well. No. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. 

As usual in those instances, you went to seek comfort in the arms of your husband. 

************

Cassandra didn’t feel ok. 

In fact, she felt absolutely terrible. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt that bad. 

When she went to look for you and apologize for her behavior, she found you in her dad’s arms, crying, and it made her run away...

She couldn’t face you, knowing she truly hurt you like that. 

The worst thing is, she knew she would hurt you by saying those words. Yet she still did it. It was as if she couldn’t control herself. It was like an ugly force took over her, and made her say those words. 

But she knew. She knew she’s the one who ultimately decided to say them. She’s the one that pronounced them. Under the anger. 

Anger. 

The ugly force. 

She turned around in her bed, holding onto the plush toy you gave her shortly after her arrival. You said “every child should have one” and that this one made you think of her. 

It was a fox with bright colors. And it still smelled like you. 

She was about to fall asleep, when she heard a knock on her door. 

“Can we come in ?” 

It was her older brothers. 

Dick, Jason and Tim. 

It was rare, to have them all in the same place nowadays, what with how busy they all were. Dick with Bludhäven, Jason with the gods only knew what really (the gods, and you and Bruce...but sshhh, that’s a secret), and Tim with college applications. 

So Cass immediately understood that they heard about the fight she had with their mom. 

And she felt a rush of shame come over her. She felt sad too, because maybe they’d be mad at her ?

Cassandra didn’t think she could bear to break your heart, and have her precious brothers mad at her all in the same day. 

She almost told them to leave. But she didn’t have the strength. 

They surrounded her, and their presence was so...soothing. 

And then they spoke. They each told her the story of the time they told their mom those few dreaded words. 

“You’re not my real mom !” 

They told her how awful they felt, and how they knew they hurt their mom. They told her that...well, they did have the best mom ever. 

You never held any grudge. Ever. Especially not against your own family. 

You never even mentioned again the fact they told you this awful thing, you never even mentioned once this, under any circumstances. 

Her brothers stayed with her for hours, talking about their feelings on the matter. Telling her it happened. That everyone wasn’t always on their best behavior...

It was hard, for Cass, to not be “good”. She did so many awful things when her biological father raised her to be a weapon, she felt like she had to catch up so much on those years of “badness”. 

She often felt like she was evil, and could never caught up to everything. Like she was doomed, and could never become good. 

On that, Jason told her she was wrong. That everyone could change, and no one was born truly evil. Environment, and the way you’re raised, matter. And what she did...wasn’t her fault. She was forced to. If she really enjoyed doing this she’d never become a Batgirl. She would never be part of this family. 

She often felt like she was a bad daughter. 

On that, Dick told her she was wrong. He too, felt like a bad son, when he “replaced” his parents with you and Bruce. He too, felt like a bad son when he would get so mad while you would do anything to make him happy. He too, felt like a bad son...on so many occasions. But he grew. And thanks to you mainly, he realized he was just human. Mistakes are human. And it’s not being a bad son, to sometimes feel so hurt that you lash out. That your trauma are so strong, things sometimes are tough. 

She often felt like she couldn’t fit in, and would never fit in. 

On that, Tim told her she was wrong. Him too, felt too different. He already had parents, they were alive, he just wanted to help, he didn’t have any friends...But in this family. In this family, everyone fitted in. Because you made it so. Bruce made it saw. You both accepted any flaws, and differences your kids might have. You loved them unconditionally, they all knew that by now. 

And Cass...Cass didn’t want to hurt you. 

They knew that, too.

It was an accident. In the heat of the moment. She didn’t mean it. Of course, you are her mom. Of course...

It felt good, to have her brothers there for her, when you couldn’t be. 

************

Later that night, after her brothers left, Cass slowly exits her room and take the known way to yours and Bruce’s. 

You are both there, and she knows her dad stayed because you felt bad. He always stayed with you, when you were feeling down. And vice versa.

Cass always told herself that, later, if she ever found a significant other, she’d want her and them to have the same kind of relationships than you. You and Bruce set up a rather high standard for whoever would come into her life. 

But that was another story. For now, she was opening the door slowly, scared of waking you up. But you were awake. 

Bruce was asleep, deeply. As usual when he felt your warmth against him. But you were not. Cass could see you slowly and absentmindedly caress your husband’s hair. It was soothing to both of you. His silky smooth dark hair were soft in between your fingers, and helped you get your mind off of the pain and focus on the sensation, while for him...Well, it put him asleep, when you did that. 

The door creaked a little, and you abruptly turned your head towards it, ready to fight and...You instantly recognize your daughter, even in the dark of the room. 

She doesn’t need to talk. You manage to roll over Bruce, who then by instinct roll too, and therefor you create a little spot for your daughter to climb in bed with you. 

You turn around in Bruce’s arms, and slowly wrap them around your middle, instead of your shoulders. You turn towards Cass, your back against Bruce’s chest, and tap the small spot you managed to create next to you. 

Cass understands, and climbs in, facing you. She lays her head on her arms, as you do the same. And then she mouthes : 

“Sorry mom...” 

And that’s all you needed. You gesture for your daughter to cuddle up close, and she does. By instinct, Bruce lets go one arm off of you, and grabs his kid to bring her closer. He is still asleep, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone that his subconscious holds onto the two most important women in his life like so. 

And there she is. Cass feels safe. And warm. And she hears your heart beat softly. And she knows it partly beats for her. 

And partly for Bruce. And partly for Dick. And partly for Jason. And Tim. And Damian. And Duke. And Alfred. 

It beats for your family. 

For her family.

Family. 

She has a family. 

And you are her mom. 

Her biological father never hugged her, never told her everything was going to be alright, never... 

Cass never felt safe and warm. 

Like she did, right now, held by both you and Bruce. 

“Family...”

She whispers, as she slowly falls asleep. And you’re the only mom she ever wants to have. You are, her real mom. Always have been, always will be. 

DAMIAN 

Damian didn’t really think this was a big deal, at first. 

Just like his father, he often made the mistake to think that people around him will simply understand his true meaning. 

When he told you : “You’re not even my real mom !”, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was angry because you told him he couldn’t go out on patrol for a few days, as he was grounded for skipping school and going to work on cases instead. 

“But school is boring, I already know everything ??” 

“It’s the principle of it, Damian. You can’t just do what you want whenever you want, this is not how it works. I don’t feel like we’re extremely strict parents, so when you betray our trusts like that, it has consequences.”

Bruce kept out of the argument, ready to jump in however if you needed him to affirm  that yes, actions have consequences and although you two are pretty lax with your son on many fronts, he still has to listen. You and Bruce made clear rules when you first adopted Dick, because you realized your lifestyle was anything but normal, but it didn’t mean your children could just do anything they wanted. 

Neither of you wanted them to turn into privileged little brats. Or to think they were above everything. And you were right, by skipping school so much, and lying about it, Damian did betray your trust. 

Understanding actions had consequences was a big step that took a while, with Damian. Unfortunately, he grew up in an environment that indeed taught him he could do whatever he wanted, no matter if he hurt people on the way... 

Unlearning all this, was tough. And you understood that. Which is why you let things go a lot, with him, and only slowly told him about things. Gradually teaching him about your values and principles. 

However sometimes, like in this case, you needed to be firm and strict, because otherwise he’d just keep doing it knowing it had no bad consequences, and you didn’t want him to simply not go to school anymore...School was important for his social development, you realized it as he made friends and...

And simply, an eleven years old kid couldn’t just roam around all day as he saw fit. That’s it. And so here you were, trying to explain this to him. And that’s when he said it. 

He scrunched up his nose like he always did when he was angry, and then, turning his head away from you, throwing his Robin boots at the back of the cave. 

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real mom !” 

And then he bolted out of the Batcave, leaving you behind, with a broken heart and feeling guilty...What if he hates you, because you were too harsh on him ? 

Bruce, that night, did not go out on patrol either, and stayed with you. Of course, he did. 

************

The fact he still listened to you and didn’t go out, made him thought you knew he was just angry and didn’t mean a word of it. 

To him, it was so obvious he thought of you as his mom, and that he said this just because he wanted to have the last word, that he honestly didn’t think much of it. 

Sure he was frustrated and angry, just like any kid was when their parents said : “no” to them. But he didn't mean it... 

He didn’t really see you of the entire day. Finally, he decided to go see his father to ask him what was up. 

“Father ?”

“Yes ?”

“Is-is mom ok ?”

“Well, what do you think ?” 

“She doesn’t seem ok.” 

“Do you know why ?” 

“Did you do something to upset her ?” 

Normally, Bruce would feel vex at this statement. What, did he really do things to upset you that often ? Yes and now. Sometimes,  he would get on your nerve, and vice versa. It happened, in relationships.

But it was never anything major. Not anymore at least. Because now, when he had his “dark days” and could be a total jerk, you knew how to handle him. You knew not to take his bullshit. 

Yes. Normally, Bruce would pout like a child, at the fact his son thought that his mom was feeling down because of him. But not today. No. 

Because he knew that what made you sad, was something important.

Unfortunately, Damian inherited from him his bad habit of thinking others will understand his meaning. 

Like, when he tried to push you away at first so you wouldn't get involved in his crazy life, what he really wanted was for you to get closer...Or when he told you that he was fine at times, all he wanted was for you to hold him and take care of him etc etc...The first time he told you “I love you”, wasn’t with words, but by not going on patrol one night, to stay with you. And he thought you’d immediately understand that he truly loved you...Truth was, it wasn’t as obvious to you (or anyone really) than it was for him. 

And Damian had the same problem. Doing things that he thought would obviously tell his meaning, his real feelings, when really...No one but him would get it. 

Although you became quite good at deciphering your husband’s true intentions, you could still misinterpret things sometimes. 

And yesterday night, when you grounded your son and tried to teach him a life lesson...You definitely didn’t see that he didn’t mean what he said and just wanted the last word. For you, he was seriously meaning it. And that’s why you were avoiding him a little, because it was too hard to...to... 

Damian’s words truly hurt you. You often were scared he could never see you as his mom (even if he did call you mom now and clearly cared for you) because of how he grew up. You’d never give up on him, of course, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt when he pushed you away or pretended to not care... 

Damian thought it was obvious, that his actions actually reflected how much you meant to him. That without you, he’d be lost and honestly wouldn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t. 

But it wasn’t obvious. 

Bruce sighed, and then smiled : 

“Since when is she acting odd ?” 

“This morning. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she went to work !”

It felt like such a serious issue to your boy, in that instant, that Bruce wished you were there to see his reaction. You’d instantly know he didn’t mean it, when he said you weren’t his mom... 

But you couldn’t quite face him. You didn’t really avoid him or try to hurt him by not saying goodbye. Of course not, you were an adult, and you definitely knew that doing to others what was done to you is pointless, and mean. And why hurt someone the same way they hurt you ? You’re no better than them uh... 

“Can you think of anything that might’ve upset her ?” 

“I spilled my milk a little, but cleaned it after. I didn’t let Alfred do it like last time. I woke up a minute late, too. Jason hasn’t called in two days, but he was there yesterday afternoon. Dick said she messed up her pumpkin soup but he was just joking and she knows. Tim fell asleep at the breakfast table. You clinging to her this morning apparently made her late, I heard Alfred say it. Um...Cass um...Cass didn’t do anything bad really...None of those things sound like it would upset her though ! She really looked sad this morning, not like herself at all !” 

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was pretty cute, how Damian often acted as if he didn’t care about anything, yet no details would ever go past him. Especially not when it came to his family. He always noticed, when one of them felt down in any way, and tried to help (in his own way). 

Hell, he probably woke Tim up and told him to sleep more and take care of himself. Called Jason and told him to call his mom. Scolded Dick to not make this kind of jokes again. 

This was just the Damian that was privy only to them. A sweet child, who unfortunately often had trouble expressing his true feelings. 

Just like his father. 

Damian would often brag about his siblings, and how awesome they were, to his friends (notably to Jon, who didn’t have any siblings). But he’d never tell them right in front of their face. 

Bruce tried to help Damian see what was wrong, and said : 

“What about last night ?” 

“Ugh ? What about last n-OH !” 

Damian replayed the events in his head, and remembered his anger and frustration. But most importantly...What he told his mom. 

“I have to find mom ! Where is she ?!” 

Damian looked absolutely panicked, which was quite unlike him. Bruce answered : 

“She’s at work, she had a meeting with her editor. She should be back soon, though.” 

And on that note, Damian ran out to do god knew what, as Bruce shook his head and...Well, he just knew things would turn out alright. 

************

Alfred almost fainted, when he saw Damian tear off his beautiful flowers from his garden. He almost ran out, and had a very “get off my lawn !” moment...up until he realized that the boy was probably doing this for a reason. 

Oh. Oh his poor lilies.  

Hopefully, this really was for a good reason. A very good one. One so good, that it would stop him from strangling his grandkid, hopefully...

************

When you came home, Damian was waiting for you at the front door. He had a bunch of lilies in his hands (that you were pretty sure were from Alfred’s precious garden) and he looked absolutely frantic. 

He ran to you, almost threw the flowers in your arms, and yelled : 

“I’M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN IT !! YOU ARE MY REAL MOM ! I WAS JUST ANGRY ! I’M SORRY !!” 

You were a little confused as to why he was yelling, but before you could continue he took a drawing out of his pocket and added : 

“THIS IS A DRAWING OF YOU ! I MADE IT FOR YOU !! YOU ARE MY MOM ! YOU REALLY ARE ! PLEASE FORGIVE ME !! I’M SORRY !! DO NOT BE MAD AT ME !!” 

Still confused as to why he was screaming, you bend down to look at him eye level, settled the flowers on the floor, and said : 

“It’s ok Damian. It’s ok. We all get frustrated sometimes...I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but it’s ok. It happens.” 

Damian’s face showed great relief, and he leaped into your arms, yelling : 

“I LOVE YOU !!” 

You winced as he screamed in your ear, and said : 

“Why are you yelling, little one ?” 

Damian took a step back from you and said : 

“BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF AND JASON TOLD ME THAT SAYING THINGS IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY MIGHT HELP !! AND HE’S RIGHT !! I LOVE YOU !!”

Damian told you he loved you before, in certain moments. When he got really hurt, when you were really hurt, if he felt really sad...It was always a moment full of emotions. And it was still rather hard for him to say the words. 

It didn’t really surprise you that Jason would have such a technique. Yelling his feelings. Yep. Sounds like him alright. And it did seem like it worked for his little brother too. 

Only you and your close family would know, because you were the only ones to truly know him, but those two were more similar than others would think. And it wasn’t because they already killed before. Oh no. On the contrary. 

“I love you too, my little one...” 

You say, as he goes back for another hug, clearly relieved you’re not mad at him. From this day on, he swore to himself that he would really try to tell others’ what he truly felt, even if it meant yelling it at them. Because other wise...otherwise it’d create this sort of terrible situations, in which his mom thought he didn’t think of her as his mom ! 

He couldn’t have it, anymore. Many “I LOVE YOU !!” were heard in the Manor, from that point on. 

DUKE 

“You know you can tell me anything, right ?” 

Duke doesn’t know why this time, this made him snap. 

Today was the anniversary of when his parents got “jokerize”, it had been two years already...And not one step closer to cure them ! He was so frustrated, sad, and lost. And you noticed. 

Duke tend to try to keep things inside. Not that he didn’t want to bother anyone, more like he just thought he HAD to handle things himself. Like it would make him stronger, and therefor, he could protect those he cares about. 

He could protect them, unlike when he could do nothing but watch as his parents fell into madness...He couldn’t bear the thought of this happening to you, Bruce, or any member of this family ! Not again. 

He couldn’t bear it...

“You’re not even my mom ! Stop acting like you are !” 

Are the words he heard himself scream at you as you asked him if everything was ok, and if he needed to talk. As you were caring, once again, and he just couldn’t...he couldn’t stand it ! Not today.

Not today. 

He immediately saw on your face the way you shut down, and took one step behind. The way your face “closed”, and as you said : “I understand.” and left the room, your body stiff and your face inexpressive (which was very unlike you), Duke felt it. 

The guilt. 

Right away.

When those dreaded words were said by all your other kids, they were young. They were all under the age of ten, and the immediate consequences of their actions didn’t truly registered. 

But Duke. 

Duke was almost eighteen. And he knew. He knew he hurt you. 

He felt the need to run after you and apologized, but there was something stopping him. 

After all, it was true right, you weren’t his mom ! His mom was still alive, and she could be cured one day ! HE ALREADY HAVE A MOM ! 

So what if you always cooked him his favorite meal, or knew exactly what his favorite food was ? So what if you would go out of your way to grab his favorite burger from his favorite joints when you knew he felt down ? 

So what, if you were always there when he was sad ? Cheering him up with comfort food, kind words, and just your presence ? 

So what if you knew exactly what would make him feel better, which movie to put on to put a smile on his face ? 

So what, if you spend entire night right by his bedside when he got really hurt, or when he was sick ? 

So what if you’d listen to him at any time of the day or night, and always took time to give him your thoughts on the matter, and truly, truly listen to what he was saying instead of waiting for your turn to speak ? 

So what if you’d make him laugh, smile, feel loved, even as he felt so alone and isolated, especially after he discovered his powers ? 

So what if you never made him feel like he was different because of it ? 

So what if you opened your house’s door without a second thought for this unknown teenager who was also a meta ?!

So what...so what...so what if you obviously cared a lot, and if you...if you... 

He already had a mom. And she might get better one day. 

He couldn’t have two moms. 

...

...

Right ? 

What would happen when his parents would be cured ? Forget all his feelings for the Waynes ? So it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t part of the family, right ? 

It would be easier. 

Yes. 

But it was too late. 

It was too late... 

He ran after you. Caught up with you in the corridor. Tears in his eyes, he said : 

“I’m sorry, please don’t go...”

And fell into your arms. Almost eighteen years old, yes, but still needed the support of a mother. Of his mother. 

And you were there. You’d always be there, no matter what happened in the future. And he needed you, especially in that moment of frustration, where he really missed his parents, and was starting to lose hope to ever find a cure... 

And you were there.

Who ever made a rule that you could have only one mom anyway, right ?

BRUCE 

They did tell him “you’re not my dad !” too. And for him, it was as terrible as for you. If not worst, on certain aspect. Especially since he had a hard times truly expressing his feelings more often than not. 

He knows how devastating it can feel. He knows it even more, because not only did he feel it as they told him “you’re not my dad !”, but he also felt it as he told Alfred “you’re not my dad !”. He knew the feelings from both sides. 

It enhanced everything. 

Of course, in general, Bruce always felt things more than anyone else around him. He was born like that. Hypersensitive. That’s why he worked so much on hiding his true feelings, and appearing detached and cold. 

It’s much easier, than to always being overemotional. Of course, it didn’t mean he felt nothing. On the contrary, he felt everything. He was just better, nowadays, at pretending he was okay. At pretending he didn’t care. 

Ah. But you existed. 

You. 

The only person that could always see through his bullshit, and know when he was lying and fake smiling. 

Between the two of you, there has always been something. Even before you were together. It was an irrational and irresistible attraction. 

An unbreakable bond. Always supporting each others. 

You have no idea how you’d live without him. And he couldn’t even fathom a world without you. It’s a world he wouldn’t like very much...  

Even during the worst times, and oh you went through a lot together, you knew at least...at least you’d have warm arms to fall asleep in. At least, you’d have each others. 

Bruce had known pain so strong he sometimes wished death would just take him away. And then you came in. Ready to put up with his shit, and to not give up on him even when he gave you every reason to. 

And oh, oh he gave you back everything times a thousand. You knew he’d never let you fall. Not alone. 

Whenever something hurtful as your children telling you two you weren’t their real parents happened...It’s when you truly realized how vital you were to each others. 

When you fell, Bruce was there to catch you. 

When he fell, you were there to catch him. 

Better to fall together, than to stand alone. 

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if you want to ^^. I’m a little afraid I disappointed y’all for some reasons haha. I couldn’t explain. Self-confidence crisis hahaha. I finished writing that late, and exhausted after a hard week, maybe it plays into account ? Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed your time reading this :). And thanks for reading, of course ^^. 

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