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caffedrine · 1 year

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Keith Howell - Chapter 14 - Summary

I pretty much have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t trust me, and you shouldn’t either. This summary is not guaranteed to be accurate, it’s mostly written for myself to follow along with the route.

The cold expression in Alter!Keith’s eyes is gone, replaced with anxiety and fear. The nice, gentle personality of Keith’s was back. Now that she understands the circumstances, Emma realizes what must be going on in Keith’s mind. From his perspective, the last time they saw each other was the previous night when they had looked at the stars together. The night when Keith revealed that ‘he’ drugged Emma.

The change has caught Emma by surprise; although she knows that she needs to say something to explain what’s going on to Keith, the words are jumbled in her throat and nothing escapes.

Keith has recovered, separating himself from Emma and apologizing for making her support him. Still thinking, Emma assures Keith that she’s fine.

From his point of view, Keith must think that Alter!Keith has brought her out here to threaten her. Which, to be fair, is pretty much what just happened. Alter!Keith threat to leak her status as Belle unless she uses her words to ‘kill’ this Keith is still ringing in her ears. This time, not only is Alter!Keith hurting Nice!Keith, but Emma as well.

Rhodolite’s future rests on her following Alter!Keith’s orders and killing this personality. She must . . . but still . . .

Nice!Keith has mostly recovered and catches Emma’s attention. He’s kept her out for too long, they should head back to the castle now. He apologizes for keeping her out so late.

Emma tries to halt him, reaching out to him. The more she tries to stay calm, the worse her heart feels. This is the Keith who took responsibility for drugging her, even though he didn’t do it. This is the Keith who always looked so sad when he talked about what he couldn’t do.

Something inside Emma breaks.

She pounces on Keith, knocking him down. Not at all expecting this, Keith goes down easily. Emma shouts at him that it’s his fault that her head is all a mess. She moves so that she can sit on his chest, pinning him to the ground. Emma tells Keith that she has so many questions, so many things that she wants to say, and needs a second to put these thoughts together. So, he can’t just walk away while she’s going through this.

Emma asks him to please listen to her talk without trying to run away this time. Keith agrees, apologizing for his role in this.

Now that she’s said that Emma feels calmer, more in control. She doesn’t want her status to be revealed, but she also doesn’t want to hurt Keith. If Alter!Keith really wanted to ‘kill’ this personality, there must be other methods that doesn’t involve her. If he wanted to use her, Alter!Keith could have inflicted visible wounds on her before switching personalities. Alter!Keith had said that her words were a poison, but what would happen if she used them as a balm instead?

Emma decides that she’s going to hurt this version of Keith, just not in the way Alter!Keith wants her to. But she won’t regret saying this, and she thinks that after the initial hurt, it will be better for both versions of Keith as well.

Emma wraps her hand around one of Keith’s marveling over how cold it is, and her chest feels tight. She looks into Keith’s eyes and tells him that she knows he’s not the one who drugged her that night. Keith looks startled, and Emma continues. She was told everything by Keith’s other personality.

There’s a painful silence between them, and Emma finds herself holding her breath. The silence is broken by Keith’s trembling voice, so weak it seems to disappear in the wind. He insists that he’s the one who did it.

Emma just said something right now about Keith having a different personality? It was a lie. Keith doesn’t want to get involved with her anymore, so he pretended to be crazy and have a split personality to drive her away. A joke in poor taste, if she wants to go that far.

Emma wonders how many times Keith has lied like this. How many times has he tried to protect himself by pretending to be a master manipulator, all the while looking like he’s about to collapse?

Still holding his hand, Emma tells Keith that he doesn’t have to lie to her anymore. She tells him not to say it’s crazy, or to say that he’s trying to keep her away. It makes her sad, she was feeling like they were finally about to get along.

Keith’s mouth twists into a self-deprecating smile. He tells Emma that it’s strange to believe his joke. It’s not normal for one person to have two personalities, it’s so weird that there is no mention of it in even their most outlandish fantasy novels.

All those cruel words that Keith is using to describe himself are things that Alter!Keith was saying. Emma realizes that he wasn’t just saying it to be mean, Alter!Keith was, in a roundabout way, telling her what he had already gone through.

Emma cuts through Keith and tells him that she’s already accepted his mental health status. She believes it because it was Keith who told her, even if it’s hard to believe.

Keith reminds Emma that he recently did something horrible to her. Nothing has changed since then.

Emma reminds Keith that he was also the one who spent an evening looking for her hair ornament. He also taught her, and most of the castle’s physicians, about medicinal herbs. When she was sick, he took care of her. Even if he had ulterior motives behind getting to know her, she believes in his underlying kindness. She believes that he wouldn’t drug her.

So, she believes Keith when he says that he has a split personality.

Keith’s hand grows warmer in Emma’s hands. Keith marvels that Emma really is a good person. But her she is someone who doesn’t learn that bad people will hurt her time and time again if she lets them.

Emma leans in to his face, and asks Keith if he intends to deceive her again. Keith tells her that he doesn’t intend to, but he’s not on good terms with him, so he can’t make promises. Emma notes that finally, he’s acknowledging the truth that there is another ‘him’. Emma feels irrationally happy at this.

Emma tells Keith that she doesn’t think that the relationship between Alter!Keith and he is that bad. Alter!Keith knows a lot of the little details about him, including his favorite books and deserts. He told her a lot about Keith.

Keith marvels about this, this is something that his butler never mentioned, nor did it come across in their diary.

Emma asks if he intends to be on better terms with his other personality. She hopes that they could get along, and that the three of them could be friends. Keith is surprised at this.

Emma admits that at first she didn’t want to get along with Alter!Keith, the person who did drug her that night. But she noticed that he is also kind, in a different way, and now she wants to know more about both of them.

Also, it would be weird to be friends with just one of them.

Emma gets off of Keith, releasing his hand. To her surprise, an arm wraps around her, hugging her to Keith. The hold is strong, and she can feel Keith’s body heat through their clothes. His breath tickles her neck.

Emma asks Keith what he’s doing, and Keith apologizes. He know this is way too forward, but he wants to stay like this for a little longer. If she wants, Emma is welcome to beat the stuffing out of him, but please let him stay like this.

Emma assures Keith that she doesn’t mind this hug, and doesn’t want to hurt him. She’s content with staying like this until Keith is satisfied.

Emma wraps her arms around Keith’s back, hugging him back. Her body trembles, and her heart is pounding so loudly that she worries that Keith can hear it.

Keith thanks Emma.

Emma wonders what the thanks is for, is he happy that she’s allowing him to hug her, or that she believes that he has a split personality, or even that despite everything she hasn’t rejected him. Maybe it’s a bit of all three?

*Later*

Keith, Emma, and Liam are riding in a carriage on their way back to Rhodolite Castle. Keith has taken a break from the storm of apologies he has been producing. Liam, sitting next to Emma, simply looks amazed.

Keith is idly watching the night sky from inside the carriage. Watching him, Alter!Keith’s threat echoes through Emma’s mind. She hasn’t done anything to handle it, and worse, Alter!Keith already knows. Will he really reveal her status as Belle? There is a pang of regret in her chest, but Emma shakes it off. What she did instead was not wrong. She doesn’t understand Alter!Keith that well, but she doesn’t think that obeying him would have made the situation better. She needs to know more before she can do anything about it.

Keith calls out her name, and Emma starts, realizing that she had also been staring. She apologizes for not paying more attention, explaining that she’s thinking about some things. Keith assures her that she’s fine, it’s just that her expression made it look like she was worried about something. Keith doesn’t know if he can do anything to help her, but sometimes talking it out can help. IF so, he would be happy to listen to any of her troubles.

Keith has caused Emma a lot of trouble during his stay, and in response, she has been kind and, in a way, saved him. Right now, all he can hope is that she remember him.

Emma studies Keith, thinking that his complexion has improved since they first entered the carriage. At any rate, that bottomless kindness of Keith’s is back, and she thanks him. She tells Keith that his offer goes both ways, if he has anything he’s worried about, to please let her know too. She doesn’t care how long it takes, she will always listen to him.

Keith looks happy at this offer, and his eyes relax. A sweet, calm air seems to flow through the carriage, but Emma’s chest grows tight. She needs to speak to Alter!Keith again, and get to the bottom of his threat.

Suddenly Keith’s eyes change, going from a calm peaceful look to one of vigilance and tension. Emma asks Keith what’s going on just as the carriage stops with a violent shake. She can hear the sound of metal ringing and screaming from outside.

Emma is confused, this is too quiet for it to be a normal bandit attack. There are no shouts of threats or demands; the only voices Emma can hear are those of the knights. A glance outside the carriage window shows people with black hoods so deep that Emma can’t make out any facial features.

Keith tells Liam to look after Emma, and reaches over to squeeze her hand once reassuringly. Emma does take comfort in that simple gesture. Keith apologizes for this situation, where Emma must be afraid. He promises to take care of it quickly, even though he’s like this, he’s actually not that weak.

Opening the door, Keith exits the carriage, leaving Liam and Emma behind. The moment he opened the door, Emma could see the hooded attackers simultaneously stop their movements. Ignoring the knights, they all swarm to attack Keith. He launches himself in the fray, kicking away swords and blocking attacks.

Keith is doing very well. Emma watches as he reaches out to pick up one of the assailants by the head and throw him away.

Emma asks if Liam is seeing this too, if Keith is the target of the attack. Distractedly, Liam agrees, and Emma wonders what the purpose of this attack is for. Are they hirelings, or are they a group with a grudge against Keith himself.

Liam suddenly wonders aloud why Keith hasn’t switched with Alter!Keith yet.

Looking over at Liam, Emma can see a frustrated expression on his face. Liam explains that Alter!Keith usually comes forward in this kind of situation, and it’s very concerning that he’s not. Especially in these circumstances; at night, in the rain, attacking a carriage.

Emma recalls Alter!Keith telling her that Keith initiates the switch whenever he’s under severe stress. Alter!Keith can only choose to switch during one of Keith’s weak moments, or if he’s under a lot of stress.

Going off of what Liam just said, Emma surmises that this is a situation where Keith would initiate the switch. So, what about a carriage under attack is particularly stressful?

Suddenly Keith calls out to them to exit the carriage. There is still a lot of fighting going on, so Emma has trouble following his reasoning. Then something hits the side of the carriage, and flames begin to flicker around them. Liam tells Emma that fire arrows must have struck the carriage, and they need to exit or burn to death.

When they exit the carriage, they find an ambush waiting for them, as one of the assailants was hiding right next to the door. Emma realizes that at this rate, both she and Liam are going to be killed, but her legs can’t move right to run. The assailant kicks Liam harshly, leaving only Emma standing. He turns to her, and she still can’t force herself to move. She watches the tip of the sword glint against the night of the sky as it is raised above her.

Suddenly there’s an all too familiar cloak filling her vision, and Keith is blocking the sword with his own. He quickly slays the assailant. The profile of Keith’s expression as he looks at the fallen foe reminds Emma of Alter!Keith, though she thinks it’s still Nice!Keith.

(Keith in all his glory)

Keith notices Emma looking at him and asks if she’s okay. Emma is amazed at how different he looks right now, like a leader, calm and confident. And he had defeated that person in just an instant to . . .

Keith grows worried by Emma’s lack of response and reaches out to touch her arms. The feel of his body heat is so comforting, Emma almost cries. Keith asks again if Emma is injured, and tells her to tell him if she’s at all been scraped or hurt. He’s noticed that the back of her hand is red, and wonders if she got burned while exiting the carriage. A hand without a glove touches Emma’s cheek, and Keith worries over how red her face is getting.

This snaps Emma out of her shock and she insists that she’s fine. She thanks Keith for saving her, thanks to him she wasn’t injured at all.

Keith is relieved, and his trembling voice sounds like the relief is coming from his heart. Emma abruptly realizes that the sound of fighting is gone, and a quick look around shows that the knights have subdued the remaining assailants, and even Liam is climbing to his feet.

Emma asks after Keith, then grows concerned as she realizes how pale he is. Ignoring his reassurances, Emma examines him for any sign of injury. Keith tries to assure her that he’s just tired from fighting, and that she has nothing to worry about.

But Keith’s complexion is rapidly growing worse and worse, and Emma feels a mix of sadness and anger well up inside her. Why is Keith trying to hide this from her?

Emma reminds Keith that they’re friends, and moreover, he’s important to her. So, instead of worrying about concerning her, she doesn’t want him to hide this from her. After a moment, Keith slumps and finally admits to his injury. It’s not a bad one, per se, but he thinks the assailants’ swords were coated in poison. Keith is used to being poisoned, so he thought he’d be okay, but it’s starting to get bad. He asks Emma to call Liam over to take care of him.

Keith’s body tilts and Emma rushes to catch him, but he’s too heavy for her to hold up. She shouts out Liam’s name.

Keith Normal Story – Your Kindness Saved Me

The normally quite setting of the Castle Infirmary is normally calm and quiet. However, with a foreign prince being attacked and then poisoned on Rhodolite soil, it has become quite a busy center.

Keith regained consciousness long enough to describe his symptoms and ingredients to an antidote to the doctor before falling unconscious again. Even after the treatment was administered, Keith’s hands were still clutching Emma’s tightly, though he showed no sign of reviving.

The doctor assures Emma that the antidote is working, he might be sleeping off some of the side effects. He tells Emma that he’ll report to Sariel if she wants to stay with Keith. The doctor instructs her to contact him if there’s any change in Keith’s condition.

After the doctor leaves, Emma gives Keith a cursory exam. His breathing has evened out, and his complexion has improved by miles. Keith’s face doesn’t look like he’s in pain, and Emma watches his chest rise and fall, warmth ticking the back of her eyes.

A hand reaches up and rests on her head, and Emma feels reassured by it. She looks at Keith’s open eyes, and surmises that the mean Keith is in control now. Alter!Keith agrees with her, and wonders if he’s going to be able to deceive her in the future.

He begins to sit up, and Emma protests this. Alter!Keith reassures Emma that the antidote is working, and rubs his eyes. Emma thinks that he seems okay, with no sign of pain in his actions, so she begins to relax. She asks him if he’s really okay, and Alter!Keith asks if she doesn’t trust him.

Well, given his track record so far . . . not really.

Alter!Keith laughs and notes that Emma is very honest. He glances around the infirmary and asks after Emma, after all, she had gone through the attack depending on him.

Emma admits that she wants to ask about that, it sounds like that attack would be one of the times Alter!Keith would be dragged out, but apparently that didn’t happen. Is there a reason for that?

Alter!Keith admits that from his point of view, that should have happened. Instead, not only did Keith not initiate the switch, when he had tried to switch himself, he couldn’t. The only reason he could switch just now was because Keith was asleep. Even though Alter!Keith is calm while explaining this, Emma thinks that it was genuinely unexpected.

Alter!Keith changes the subject to Emma and asks about her hand. Emma assures him that her hand is fine, she had hit it while exiting the carriage, but the color has gone back to normal. She thanks him and Alter!Keith tells her not to worry about it.

There is a long silence in the infirmary, and Emma wonders why Alter!Keith is so quiet. Being together for a day has shown her that he hates long silences. She notices Alter!Keith rub his eyes again, harder than before.

Emma places her hands on either side of Alter!Keith’s face and turns him to face her directly. At the distance they’re at, Alter!Keith’s gaze should fix on her immediately, but his eyes are glazed and unfocused. Emma can feel her body temperature drop as she realizes the implications.

Just as she’s about to demand answers, Alter!Keith grabs her hand and jerks her forward. His lips graze along Emma’s cheek, startling her to silence. He assures Emma that he can see, its just that everything is blurry. Good thing for her, otherwise his kiss might have landed on her lips instead of cheek.

Emma tells him that he doesn’t need to prove it with a kiss. Alter!Keith asks how else was he supposed to reward her for recognizing him so quickly. Emma doesn’t need rewards for that.

Emma settles back into her seat, though Alter!Keith still has a grip on her hands. She doubts he intends to let go any time soon. Instead of commenting on it, she asks if Alter!Keith intends to hide his condition from the doctor.

Alter!Keith assures her that he’ll report it, though thanks to the antidote, the root cause is gone, and his sight will recover soon enough. He’d rather let his eyesight heal naturally than by taking more medicine.

Emma realizes that Alter!Keith was intending on hiding it from her alone, and her heart hurts. She knows that she cannot do anything for him with her lack of medical knowledge, but still . . . Emma asks Alter!Keith if he was paying attention to what she said during the carriage ride before the attack. Back when she said that he could tell her anything, and to not hide things from her. Alter!Keith asks if she was talking to him too back then, and Emma asks him if it wasn’t obvious.

Alter!Keith asks if that means that he is also someone important to Emma.

Emma considers this carefully before admitting that he is. And she wants him to tell her problems directly, not make her guess like she just did with his eyes. Keith praises her, and Emma quickly tells him that she doesn’t need another kiss.

Alter!Keith very sadly complains that she is boring, but Emma can see a smile on his face. Emma can hardly believe that this is the same person who wanted her to ‘kill’ Nice!Keith.

The reason Alter!Keith was trying to hide his condition from Emma was that he didn’t want her to worry or feel guilty over it. She is very much like the failure; she takes too much blame upon herself.

After a moment, Alter!Keith lowers his eyes and apologizes. Not for hiding his condition, but for telling her to kill Nice!Keith. She doesn’t have to worry, he won’t tell anyone about her status. Honestly, he didn’t think she would go through it when he told her to do it anyways. Though, it wasn’t a lie that he wants the failure to disappear. Emma asks if she can ask why, and Alter!Keith tells her no.

Suddenly, Alter!Keith pulls Emma so that she sits next to him, and he wraps an arm around her waist, trapping her against him. Emma asks if he was lying all this time, and if he can see her clearly. Alter!Keith denies this, while he can make out her form, at this distance, he can’t see her expression. He traces his hand up her arm to wrap around Emma’s throat.

Even though this is a dangerous position, Emma doesn’t feel afraid. Even though Alter!Keith was scary at first, even though he wants to hurt Nice!Keith, for some reason she thinks Alter!Keith is afraid of her. He has so many contradictions and innocent moments that they have clouded Emma’s heart, and she is unsure of her own judgement.

If Emma really wants to know why he wants to kill Nice!Keith, Alter!Keith will tell her. He commands Emma to close her eyes. Emma refuses quickly and Alter!Keith laughs, asking if she’s worried that he’s going to kiss her again. If so, he has no problem meeting her expectations. The hand at her throat moves and Keith asks where she wants him to kiss her; forehead, ears, cheeks, eyelids or lips. If it is the lips, they can enjoy the kiss together.

Emma tells Alter!Keith that she’s not expecting him to kiss her, so he doesn’t need to. She tries to push off his arm and move back to the chair but falls short.

Alter!Keith notes that even though he can’t see her expression, he can feel it in the air. She’s wary of him, to which Emma agrees. She asks Alter!Keith to come back to their original topic.

There’s a loud knocking on the infirmary door, interrupting Emma. Alter!Keith smiles as if he anticipated this moment. He tells her that unfortunately their time is up, they’ll have to play together another time.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #keith howell

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 1 year

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MASTERLIST

NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

A/N: I literally have no idea of how I got here. To me, chapter ten is a bit of a milestone, so I just want to thank everybody for getting this far <3 I really hope you're enjoying it, and I promise I'll keep doing my best.

Warnings: Somewhat graphic violence, mentions of weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 2065

Mercedes regretted not leaving Namor outside to stand guard while she looked inside the room. Scarcely furnished rooms are great when you’re searching for something, not so much when you want to hide.

“Do you have what you need?” Namor asked, his eyes fixed on the rattling doorknob.

“I have no idea. This could be just the tip of the iceberg; I haven’t even opened the other…”

“I need a yes or no,” He shut her down urgently. She pressed her lips together tightly.

“They can’t see you,” She hushed, her mind working at a hundred miles per minute as she paced around the room. Finally, Sadie turned to look at him.

“Alright, this might work. Give me your water grenades. All of them.”

The rattling stopped. That wasn’t a good sign. Whoever was trying to open it had probably run off to get help from somebody else.

“No, that’s enough” He replied, “The only reason why we’re here is that you want to be a hero for your people. I already protected mine.”

“Fine then.” She replied, “If we, surface people are not worth enough to you, Your Highness, then get the hell out. Just don’t expect me to go with you.”

“They’re too close to our territories. And we both know they intend to keep exploring the caves nearby, and I’m not taking that risk.”

Even then, Mercedes had a hard time believing he truly meant what he was implying. This time, it was she who copied his habit of staring into somebody’s eyes to figure out whether he was bluffing.

“Ten minutes after I walk out of that door,” He coldly explained, gesturing toward the closed door with a nod of his head, “this ship is going down. With or without you in it.”

And it was that moment, right after that sentence, with Mercedes looking into his eyes intently and finding a stare as cold as the metal that adorned his neck, the one she’d later recall as the first time she ever felt scared of him. Still, she leaned closer to him, close enough for her to once again feel his warm breath against her face, and spat defiantly.

“I fucking dare you.”

His expression did not change at all. Perhaps he clenched his jaw almost imperceptibly, but nothing more.

Namor turned around, opened the door, and disappeared around the corner, just as a new set of footsteps resounded from the opposite direction, headed towards Mercedes.

Her eyes were watering. She angrily blinked and wiped them off with her sleeve.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Mercedes kept whispering angrily, picking up the rifle and reloading it. A tiny part of her still hoped to see him come back, say something snarky in that annoyed tone he used every time she got on his nerves and make sure she’d be okay. Sadie didn’t fully realize how good it felt knowing someone was looking out for her until that moment when she felt truly alone for the first time in weeks.

Fuck him. She’d find her way out. She always did.

Always with an eye on the door, Sadie looked around the suitcases for something that could protect the documents and maybe even the laptop’s hard drive from the water. Fortunately, the captain seemed to be one of those people who packed every pair of shoes in a plastic bag. Once she finished packing, Mercedes silently thanked whoever was listening that the footsteps she heard earlier weren’t coming for her, apparently.

Peeking outside of the door, she felt a pang in her stomach once she realized Namor was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes burned a little once more.

Right. All she had to do was follow the same path she used to reach the quarters all the way back to the stern of the ship. Once outside she’d find a raft, or a lifeboat, or whatever. She didn’t even want to think of what she’d do to find land, or how long that would take. For now, Sadie had to leave the enclosed quarters. Those narrow halls could mean certain death.

Speaking of, a loud bang caused Sadie to curse loudly and lift the rifle once more, aiming it at her assailant, who was hiding behind the door of one of the quarters. He peeked his head out and fired two more times, one of which barely grazed her arm and caused her to yelp and huff relieved.

She had to finish him off quickly. That many shots would undoubtedly attract the attention of the entire ship, and it would only be a matter of time until they surrounded her. Mercedes knelt as quietly as she could and took a deep breath before aiming. The minute an inch of skin showed behind the frame, she took the shot and after hearing a muffled exclamation, ran as fast as she could toward the exit.

Namor placed the last grenade on the hull of the ship, carefully holding the small device that would make them go off at the same time. A glowing blue line circle that paled as time passed marked five minutes.

What was she waiting for?

The minute he left the quarters and perceived the sound of possible assailants headed her way, Namor turned around and walked in the opposite direction. Luckily, he was able to intercept them before they reached her. No matter how resourceful she’d turned out to be, five were too many. But she didn’t need to know that. Nor she needed to know that he’d been circling the vessel, searching the edges of the ship for any trace of her for the last five minutes.

Ten minutes was more than enough for her to get whatever documents she needed and leave. He had been careful to dispose of the soldiers he had dealt with, they shouldn’t have found out she was on board yet.

“I tried to help her,” He attempted to convince himself, “She just keeps jumping in harm’s way, and I can’t put her before my people.”

Namor was doing all of this for them. For every child, man and woman who peacefully inhabited Talokan to continue doing so. All for the ones he loved. Then, a tiny voice derailed his thoughts.

Hasn’t she also protected the ones you love?

Finally. The sky had never looked so bright as it did when Sadie found her way to one of the decks, trying to walk close to the walls so she wouldn’t be an easy target. Her eyes glimmered when she spotted a lifeboat. While she still had to untie it and lower it into the water, knowing that was the final step toward freedom made the task feel a little bit less impossible. After a quick yet thorough scan, Mercedes decided to make a run for it. Knowing she would need both hands, the girl begrudgingly dropped the rifle before sprinting across the deck and safely reaching the boat with an elated, breathless laugh. Even then, Sadie looked over the edge of the ship and stared at the sea for a moment. A loud blast and the high-pitched sound of a bullet flying right above her head froze her in place. Sighing, she lifted one hand while still grasping the backpack with the other and slowly turned around.

“Hello, Captain,” She greeted the man looking down at her from the second level of the ship, a forced smile tugging her lips up.

“Ms. Medina,” He returned the greeting in that patronizing way she despised, “I see you’ve decided to come back from the dead,”

“You don’t seem surprised,” She noted, trying to move a bit to her left only for Wexler to aim his gun at her to prevent her from moving in the slightest.

“I am. But given your…precedents and the mysterious vanishing of your body, I’m not as surprised as you’d think,”

Mercedes looked around him when a beam of light blinded her momentarily. The target of one or more than one sniper, concealed behind the tinted windows. Fucking coward.

“But enough pleasantries,” He continued, “I think you have something in there that belongs to me.”

“It will belong to the sea if you don’t tell your men to back down and come here to talk just you and me, man to woman,” She retorted, holding her arm further over the edge.

“Drop it. We’ll just shoot you and then retrieve it,” He answered with a shrug, so dismissively he nearly looked bored.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so, Davy Crockett,” She snapped, frankly fed up with the man, “If you actually used them, you would’ve noticed your dumbbells were also missing. Well, guess where I put them?” Mercedes shook the backpack a little to prove her point, swinging it slowly from one side to another. Much to her delight, her statement momentarily seemed to throw Wexler off. He spoke something into a walkie-talkie and made his way down the stairs.

Mercedes briefly looked over her shoulder at the enraged sea, the waves violently crashing against the hull.

“Well, Ms. Medina,” He said, still staying several feet away from her, “What is it you want from me?”

I want you to stay as close to the hull as possible

“I have some questions for you, Wexler. Easy ones, yes or no. Can you do that for me?” Two could play the condescending game. The man gave one single nod.

“Was I ever supposed to come out of the cave alive?” She asked, taking a small step backward. Wexler opened his mouth, about to look down until she interrupted him. “No, no. Eyes up here, please. I wouldn’t want you to try and lie to me. Now give it another go.”

“No,” He dryly replied.

“Alright. Are you using the spores of the fungus to synthesize some sort of weapon?” Another step. She had to speed it up.

“Yes,”

“Okay, does this ship contain all the fungus and samples you’ve collected?” A larger step. She was almost there. Screw the lifeboat, she had to get off that ship before everything blew up.

He didn’t like that question. Wexler was taking much too long to reply. But she couldn’t let him see she was in a hurry, or he’d get suspicious.

“Ey, güerito,” She called out to him, “I don’t mean to hassle you but my arm is getting tired,”

“Yes, yes it does.”

“Okay, one last question. Is every member of your little clubhouse on board?”

This time, Wexler actually interrupted her with a smile. A smile she did not like one bit.

“No, Ms. Medina. I’m afraid it is my turn to ask you a question.”

Namor cursed to himself when he saw the circle was almost completely dark. There was less than a minute left, and she hadn’t shown up. For now it was better if he swam a bit further away from the ship to avoid the shock wave.

Another intrusive memory flooded his brain. Mercedes lying on her hammock, half asleep, staring intently as he tried to scare the bad memories away with stories, the same way his mother had done for him so many years ago.

Then, the worst possible thought pierced his mind like a poisonous arrow.

She would have liked her. His mother would have known exactly what to say whenever she woke up crying for her father, she would have fully supported Mercedes’ senseless attempts to save the world she missed until the last day of her life… And she would have absolutely had his head for letting her die like that.

The Talokanil man huffed in frustration and surrounded the ship as fast as he could, his eyes fixed on every inch of the boat. He was thinking of boarding it again when he finally spotted her, standing right over the edge, holding something over the edge as a tall, uniform-clad man said something to her. As soon as he stopped speaking, he could see her arms nearly go limp, her face violently losing its color. All it took was one moment of distraction, and the next second two things happened almost at the same time.

A deafening explosion roared in Namor’s ears as a giant column of water split the boat like it was made of paper.

And a bullet broke through one of the upper windows of the ship, flew across the deck, and lodged itself in Mercedes’ chest.

easter egg

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jinxytheshippr · 2 years

Text

Wish I Were Violet

I still remember, third of December Me in your sweater You said it looked better on me than it did you Only if you knew How much I liked you.

Y/n tried not to blush as Gallo put his turnout coat around her shoulders. She just came out of a fire without hers, and, as it was snowing like the Ice Age, Gallo took it upon himself that she didn't freeze.

She was still shivering, but her cheeks were forever warm from embarrassment. How did she even get here? She looked up at Gallo, who was putting away some tools back into his rig. Y/n was head-over-heels for him, and it wouldn't surprise her if her eyes turned into hearts someday soon.

"Maybe zip-up next time, Gallo," Casey joked as he walked past, opening a door to the truck.

Y/n huffed, rolling her eyes and standing up again. "Copy that, Captain."

Y/n was the new candidate at Truck 81, and it seemed all the officers at 51 wanted to make that very clear. She had made the mistake of forgetting to zip up her turnout coat while inside an unstable building. The wind had blown, structures fell, and somehow Y/n ended up without her coat, on the third of December in cold-as-hell Chicago.

"Okay, I want you to give Gallo his coat back, walk back over here as slow as you can, and think about all you did wrong as you freeze in the cold. You can scrub everyone's coats when we get back to the firehouse," Casey barked, once again reminding Y/n that Casey was, in fact, her Captain.

Y/n started walking towards Gallo, who was pretty far away from the firetruck, hiding behind the ambo. She unzipped and unlatched the clasps on the coat and took it off, the uncovered part of her arms already starting to burn with cold. She looked back up at him, only to watch him give Violet, the paramedic, a kiss. And, like, a kiss; an open-mouthed, hair-tussling kiss.

Y/n blinked, holding out the coat. She cleared her throat, already feeling embarrassed beyond words, and looked down as he grabbed the coat from her hand.

"Thanks," he muttered. She could hear the agitation in his voice, but turned and began to walk away, biting her lip to distract her arms from the cold, boring through her arms, making her regret wearing a t-shirt today.

Her mind couldn't help but wander as to why Gallo was kissing Violet. She was dating someone. Someone had told her that Violet was having an affair with the Paramedic chief. Maybe she could ask Sylvie later. Something still didn't sit well with her, was Blake dating someone?

Then the cold in her arms disappeared for a moment as she realized how angry that had made her. He should be kissing Y/n, not Violet. Y/n had been here the whole time, meanwhile Violet had broken his heart twice- three times? She huffed and made it back to the rigs, too angry to pay attention to everyone else laughing and her arms chilled to the bone.

"Hey, um," Blake poked his head around the corner and smiled. "Thought you'd be here," he sat on the bench next to her. Y/n was in the locker area, a place she often visited when anything was on her mind. Blake had rescued her from this place a few times before.

"Yeah," Y/n mumbled, staring down at her feet, worried that he could see right through her.

"So, about what you saw earlier. . ."

"Yep, secret's safe with me," she lied. Y/n was always somewhat good at keeping secrets, but she felt the need to tell someone about this one.

"Also, you should know, what Violet and I have, it's purely physical. So, she isn't really cheating on her-"

Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes, standing up and opening her locker before she could stop herself.

"Excuse me?" Gallo stood up, brows furrowing.

"Sorry," she tried to look into his eyes, but they flickered away once she saw his anger.

"No, I understand. You don't want to hear about my sex life, because that's suddenly a problem?!" He continued scowling.

Normally, sex life and others were comfortable subjects between them, so Gallo had a right to be angry. Y/n winced, trying to find the right words to say. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Well then, I'll let you hide in here," he turned around, shaking his head. Y/n knew in that moment what she had to say.

"Wait, Blake-"

"Don't first-name me, L/n. Unless it's just that important."

"Blake, please, it is that important!" She grabbed his shoulder.

But I see your eyes as she walks by,

What a sight for sore eyes,

Brighter than a blue sky.

She's got you mesmerized,

While I die.

"Blake?" Violet poked her head around the corner. Y/n drooped as he averted his eyes, all of his attention now on the paramedic. "I could use some help over by the ambulance. . ."

Y/n could see the look in Violet's eyes as Gallo followed her like a puppy to the apparatus floor. Y/n slammed her locker shut, collapsing on the bench again and burning her hands in her face.

"L/n, those coats aren't scrubbed yet," Casey came around the bend.

"Copy that, Captain."

Wish I were Heather.

A/N I might end up making a part two or smt if u guys want? Up to you.

#blake gallo imagine #blake gallo #blake gallo imagines #chicago fire #violet mikami

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rhineposting · 10 months

Note

What do you think about Eda and her sudden transformation into a mom for everyone?

While I wouldn't say she became a mother for Everyone, I still have some thoughts to share regarding that evolution! More below the cut, as always!

Contrary to the claim presented above by anon, it wasn't that sudden. Of course, in the first episodes she called the ten year old living in her house a roommate and initially wanted the 14 year old from another dimension to be her helper, nothing about her was remotely motherly, but the viewer can clearly see the slow progression. As she got to know Luz more and more, we can see how the girl altered her views on many things by simply being around - thus forcing Eda to reconsider both Luz and herself more and more. In the Intruder as well as "Hooty's Moving Hassle" we see her realizing Luz' potential, alongside potentially seeing her younger self in Luz. After all, projecting isn't always a bad thing, though most of the time it does lead to severe misunderstandings. In Eda's case though, that just helped her realize what Luz needed as a fellow weirdo in order to thrive - since Eda probably didn't have that kind of guidance back in the day. I personally think that's where their bond truly began to evolve. From then on, we see that she does her best to give Luz the opportunities she deserves to thrive. However by that point, she still doesn't consider herself a maternal figure to both King and Luz. However, we do see in "Lost in Language" that she actually does have a deeply repressed need to perform the role of a caretaker - despite initially despising the idea of caring for the Bat Babies, when the time came to get them under control, she knew exactly what to do and was visibly happy with both the process and in the results - cuddling three infants without a care in the world, and then being even more visibly distraught then dissappointed when they disappeared. (Also let's not forget how she had a book with stories for kids at the ready at her house.) That goes to show that those feelings didn't appear out of nowhere. They were always there - repressed after years of being forced to be alone due to the curse and being chased by the law. After losing Lilith to the Emperor's Coven, hurting her father because of the curse, as well as breaking up with Raine as she was too scared to open up to them, it all lead to a wall forming around her - protecting her from making yet another attachement. One that Luz' presence broke through, per Eda's own words : "Dang it kid, your nonsense has gotten into my head." Eda got to know Luz, and in turn herself - realizing that being someone's caretaker and protector is what truly makes her happy and fulfilled, and that by living alone and for no one she was just wasting her life : which finally culminated in Agony of a Witch. Not only do we see Eda willing to sacrifice herself for Luz, in the next episode she says herself that she doesn't regret anything because she got to meet her. In season 2, now that she's happier with herself as a person, she only continued to act upon that deeply internalized need. Because that's good writing. You can't just add an important trait onto a character and then remove it with the next season. And, as it happens with love, it's contagious. It was only a matter of time before she assumed the maternal/caretaker role with "everyone" as anon put it, which...As far as I remember still only includes Luz, King and then the BATTs and partially Hunter, but he didn't stick around long enough to truly feel that love. He doesn't count. In "Them's the Breaks, Kid" as well as "Something Ventured, Someone Framed" it's also revealed that she felt responsible for Lilith and her well-being, going as far as to causing a scene to get her stolen lunch money back, or signing herself up for extra activities to escape expulsion, in order to stay with her. TL;DR No, her being a maternal figure wasn't sudden. Her actively enjoying taking the role of a caretaker was consistently and slowly built up over the course of the show, not a sudden retcon for the sake of feels. Hope that answers your question sufficiently!!

#Rhine Character Studies #eda clawthorne #toh #the owl house

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primofate · 3 years

Note

im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days.

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again.

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move.

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things.

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you.

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters.

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh.

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo.

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment.

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days.

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now.

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you.

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty.

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep.

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background.

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone.

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you.

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,”

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,”

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now.

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

Taglist: @larkspyrr @rim0na @sweeti-pie @l3mon-mxshroom @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @kyquu @KimbapSana @fanfictionenthusiast

Crossed out means I couldn’t tag you! Sorry!

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

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#albedo #albedo x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin reader angst #genshin x reader angst #albedo x reader angst #genshin fics #genshin short fics #genshin headcanons #albedo angst

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ellana-ravenwood · 3 years

Text

“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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multifandomwritings · 3 years

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How the slashers would react to their S/O being sweet and affectionate

(Giving them lots of compliments, being soft with them, etc.)

Includes Thomas, Brahms, Michael, Jason, Bubba, Chop Top, Nubbins, Beetlejuice, Candyman, Bo, Vincent, Lester, Graverobber, Luigi, Pavi & Billy Lenz. I know technically not all of them are slashers but I wanted to put all the horror characters together :)

This came out of nowhere and took so long to write lol :^) I hope you like it! If I’m missing anyone let me know! (This is both bad and lengthy, so I am sorry :’) Also obviously they’re soft here so) I’ve read through this to check for mistakes but if I missed anything I’m sorry, feel free to point it out!

Thomas:

- Thomas would thoroughly melt. He's starved for affection and kindness, and probably wouldn't even know how to handle it at first, only staring at you with reddened cheeks and ears

- He's a sucker for compliments, especially — he's been spoken to/about poorly most of his life, so it's foreign to him. Your seemingly endless drawls of honey-coated words soften him up beyond repair, building his confidence up more than you would even be aware of (imagine his widened eyes and fumbling hands as you spoke 🥺)

- It would take some time, but you'd make him like things about himself. You compliment his eyes? He would slowly begin to too, since you did. You played with his hair, rambling on about how pretty it was? Fluttering eyelids, profuse blushing, can’t handle it. He likes it too from then on, and hopes you play with it more.

- Of course, Thomas would adore that you were physically affectionate. He'd be more than willing anytime you wanted hugs or kisses, his tummy always filling with butterflies at your touches. Besides kisses, he'd especially adore casual intimacy - touching his arms in passing, or playing with his hands and fingers absent-mindedly as you sat with him. It would make him feel so loved and happy. (Also: snuggling up to him/nuzzling into his neck. He would melt, amazed that you were so trusting and comfortable with him)

- Your sweetness would be so endearing to him, almost feeling undeserving of it. He'd question why you were so tender with him, often needing reassurance. He'd be quite protective of you anyways, but your sweet personality would only further this.

Brahms:

- This would be perfect for Brahms. He's very affectionate himself, so he'd be happy to receive any affection that came his way

- Seriously. If you began being casually affectionate with him, spoiling him with kisses, hugs, and little touches in passing, he'd do the same, probably taking advantage of it a little (only because he's quite touch starved)

- Compliments, however, would be received a little different. Not badly, only with more reservation. He's unused to them, and would often flush up at your sweet words, stammering clumsily to thank you as he tried not to blush too hard

- Your sweet, caring and affectionate personality would melt his heart, so thankful that you came along. Your sweet words and affectionate nature would be so mending to a severely neglected part of him

- Often times, you'd have a hard time getting him to let you go when you hugged or cuddled up to him. He'd cling to you tightly, nuzzling up to you and savoring every moment of it

Michael:

- You would have to be patient with Michael when it came to any kind of affection. He wouldn't mind, but he'd be a little wary of it, especially at first

- Gentle, caring and purposeful touches would soften him up a bit. Things like you caring for any wounds he happened to get while ~out and about~, and looking after him in ways he wasn't used to

- Compliments and doting would be met with surprise, though you wouldn't be able to tell. If you look closely enough, you'll see his eyes are widened behind his mask when you speak lovingly of him

- Your sweet personality would intrigue him, especially seeing as he was the object of your affections. His own affection would be shown by being protective and gentle with you, willingly accepting your affection, albeit with some amount of awkwardness

- He would have a hard time not letting his guard down and completely melting into your touches and at your affection. Slowly but surely, he’d loosen up. One day you’d absent-mindedly lift your hand to his arm or cheek once he was warmed up to you, and he’d surprise you by leaning into it just slightly, scanning your reaction nervously. Don’t push your luck and overreact though, he’ll get awkward and temporarily disappear. An encouraging smile will do!

Jason:

- Jason would *adore* this. So much. You would always make him feel so warm and loved, any insecurities he had would slowly melt away

- He would feel grateful that he wore a mask sometimes, embarrassed at how flushed you could make him without even having to try

- Has some reservations about physical affection at first, but your patience and sweetness would rapidly chip away at them. In fact, he'd regret keeping you at arms length at first, as he'd worry you weren't being as affectionate as you wanted to be because of it (you actually were, he just wants more)

- You can always tell he's beaming beneath the mask when you compliment him, savoring your words and making sure he won't forget them. Although he might not always agree with the sweet things you said about him, they made him feel special and loved

- His biggest weakness would be his neck. You would occasionally kiss the side of his neck near his jaw in lieu of his face when he wore his mask, and each time you could watch as his ears turned crimson, eyes widened slightly, always prompting a giggle from you

Bubba:

- Bubba is quite affectionate too, so you'd be a cute match

- He might have reservations about being too affectionate in the beginning, as he wouldn't want to scare you away. However, when you proved yourself to be just the same as him, the dam would break and he'd rarely not be spoiling you with affection

- Your compliments and sweet words would always leave him a blushing mess, genuinely confounded at how you could make him feel so warm and fluttery inside

- Bubba is definitely the cuddliest so prepare yourself for endless snuggles, happy to return your affection like that. If you were to walk up and give him a random hug, he'd melt, dragging you off somewhere to sit with you for hours, you snuggled up in his arms

- He cannot cope with the casual little kisses you give him, especially if you pepper them across his face. He would never get used to them despite loving them, turning the sweetest shade of pink each time and rambling on in a sort of awkward panic

Chop Top:

- Chop Top would lovingly tease you about how affectionate you were with him, finding it completely adorable. He would end up shutting up about it as he wouldn’t want to discourage you, though

- Compliments and sweet words would be met with a big, silly smile or chuckle, followed by him asking you if you really meant it. He’d find you so sweet, and would return your affectionate words in his own weird, Chop Top-esque way

- Nothing has an effect on him quite like random, unexpected touches. He’ll be going on in his typical loud, extra way when you’d stand next to him and slip your hand into his, your other hand clinging to his arm as you pressed up to him slightly. His voice would falter as he glanced at you with a nervous chuckle, rambling nervously and trying to remain ~composed~

- Your sweetness would be somewhat puzzling to him, particularly because it was directed toward him. He wouldn’t be used to people being so gentle and polite with him, so he wouldn’t even know what to do with it at first

- Ends up being more affectionate than you. He loves having you in his arms and smothering you with chaotic, needy kisses. He’d have loads of weird, super-specific nicknames he’d call you, and would love if you had some for him, too.

Nubbins:

- So soft for you! Seriously. He'd treat you like you were made of glass, uncharacteristically protective of you

- Anytime you touched him he'd break into the sweetest smile, melting into your hands. *Loves* when you play with his hair, nuzzling up against your hand

- Anytime you complimented him, called him loving nicknames, or anything like that he'd flush up and wouldn't be able to stop smiling

- He's so used to being mistreated that your sweet and gentle personality would make his heart race. He'd cling to you any chance he got, finding comfort in you

- He’d be just affectionate back, but in a sort of clumsy, awkward way. It would be new to him, and he’d want to be all gentle and sweet with you, but instead he’d be a bit rough and unpracticed. He’d play with your hair a bit roughly, hug you a little too tightly, and would kiss you with too much fervor for it to be as sweet as the intention behind it

Beetlejuice:

- Beetlejuice wouldn't really know how to take this/deal with it. He can be quite vulgar and straightforward, so it would be an adjustment. Not an unwelcome one, just different

- He'd find himself getting embarrassed by his own lewd comments and gestures, finding you far too sweet for that, and wanting to treat you as such

- When you complimented him, his first instinct would be to be cocky and teasing about it. As he realized how genuine you were, he'd get surprisingly embarrassed, genuinely appreciating your words and not forgetting them

- Finds himself adoring your soft, sweet touches, leaning into them and hoping they'd last longer than they did. Of course, you were always happy to cater to him, stopping whatever you were doing to shower him with soft attention that you knew he needed more than he was aware

- His personality would completely soften around you, looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. The second someone else was around though? Back to his usual shenanigans.

Candyman:

- Daniel would pretty much be the same as you, always spoiling you with the sweetest, loveliest words that would leave your heart fluttering and cheeks flushed

- He'd find your sweet personality endearing, being particularly gentle and soft with you. Any kind of affection you wanted, you would get

- Adores your touches, and returns them without hesitation. He's a romantic, so he'd love your kisses in particular, smiling anytime you would randomly kiss him, and often wrapping you up to steal more than a simple peck

- He would be so sweet and romantic constantly, cherishing every little bit of affection you gave him. He’d always be amazed at how gentle you were and how you made him feel

- He would (not so) secretly love being doted over by you. Would melt at how adoringly you looked at him, and would be happy to just sit with you as you snuggled up to him, making him feel all soft and special

Bo:

- This is so foreign to Bo. Literally, he'd look at you like you were absolutely nuts, having no idea how to react to half the things you said

- Your soft, doting words flustered him far more than he would have liked to admit, even to himself. Every compliment would wrap itself around his thoughts and tug at his heartstrings

- Did you really mean the things you said about him? You were so soft and genuine, he was always amazed at how you could feel so sweetly toward him. He'd feel so privileged, in a way, to be the object of your affections

- Your physical affection would *always* be welcome. He would definitely return it, though not without some amount of flirting and teasing. Calls you every cute moniker in the book, sweetheart being his favorite for you. (He’d never admit it but if you call him things like that too, he’d melt)

- Of course, he'd adore whatever affection you gave him, but it would be the sweet, unfamiliar things that would really get him. If you held his hand in yours as you walked, kissed his cheeks, played with his hair or even did something as silly as booping his nose, he'd scoff, half rolling his eyes and pretending to find it silly. The pink spreading across his cheeks and nose would not be lost on you, though, nor the soft smile that would slowly emerge

Vincent:

- Vincent would be a little bit nervous about affection at first. He'd definitely want it, but it would just be new to him. He'd have to warm up to you first

- Verbal affection would be best in the beginning, sweet words easing him up to you (and making it much harder to keep you at arms length). If he allowed you to see him without his mask, he'd rarely not be blushing (to be honest, you would be able to sense that he was anyways, even when he did wear it)

- Little things like touching his shoulders or arms in passing would make him so soft. When he's comfortable with it, you'd begin holding his hands and hugging him, which would almost always result in him nuzzling up to you and rapidly getting clingy

- His favorite thing would be cuddling up with you for hours, feeling safe and warm tangled up with you. He’d also love when you played with his hair, and kissed the scarred side of his face, quickly getting overwhelmed with emotion

- He would be as caring and sweet toward you as you would be with him. Your loving personality would be deeply appreciated by him, and he’d make sure that you knew it

Lester:

- Lester would be the softest ever for you, your sweet personality being what drew him to you. He'd be used to people being mean and rude, so when you weren't, he'd already be putty in your hands

- Every word that came out of your mouth would prompt a big, expectant smile, no matter what it was about. However, anytime you indulged him with compliments and kindness, he'd hardly be able to maintain eye contact, too embarrassed and flattered to even properly hear you

- Being with you would perpetually keep him in a good mood. No amount of meanness from anyone would matter anymore — if you liked him, that's all that would matter!

- He spoils you just as much with affection and compliments as you do him, thinking you were the sweetest person on earth, and wanting you to know it

- Loves all kinds of physical affection you give him, but he really just likes to have you close. Hand holding, arms wrapped around each other, and so on would make feel safe and warm

Graverobber:

- Graverobber would be pleasantly surprised with how soft you were with him, finding himself almost amused by it. Not in a bad way, but as with almost everyone else he just wouldn’t expect it

- Any random affection, verbal or physical, would be met with a cocked eyebrow and a small smirk — only because he loves watching the blush creep over your cheeks in embarrassment

- He’d love it though, and would be quick to reassure you despite his initial teasing. He’d find you so endearing and would appreciate you a lot, though he’d be more apt to express it with actions rather than words

- Alternatively to teasing when you were being particularly sweet, he’d pull you up next to him and wrap his arm around you. If you were alone, he’d be a bit touchier, peppering your face with kisses and grinning in satisfaction as he made you laugh and blush

- He would find you so cute, often unable to keep a smile off his face when you were around

Luigi:

- You would certainly be a stark contrast to Luigi. This pairing would be a mystery to his family and pretty much everyone else, though he wouldn’t understand why

- Your sweet, affectionate personality would cut through his angry, brazen one a little, at least when he was around you. Despite his temper, he'd have a hard time actually getting angry when you were around, even toward other people (this results in everyone else hoping you would stay attached at the hip, so to speak. Please)

- He'd adore your affection, needing soft and sweet attention more than he knew. He'd love to be wrapped up in your arms, or have you wrapped up in his — it really wouldn’t matter, he’d be happy either way. (Also likes PDA, as he's a show-off)

- Your praises and compliments would always light up his face with an endearing smile. He'd go out of his way to impress you and live up to your words. He could also be quite smug, too, agreeing with your compliments half-seriously and half in an attempt to make you laugh

- You would (unintentionally) have him wrapped around your finger, without him even realizing it.

Pavi:

- Pavi would be fascinated by this, so used to less innocent forms of affection. He definitely wouldn't be used to sincere, loving words directed toward him, especially paired with innocent touches without ulterior motive

- He's used to people flocking around him to simulate whatever he wanted, often times because of who he was, rather than out of genuine interest. If you gave him attention freely, because you wanted to, it would unlock a completely different side of him

- He would be enamored with you, quickly losing interest in everyone else as he fixated on you. Your praises, kindness and attention would always leave him a smiling mess

- Needless to say, Pavi is very physically affectionate, so he'd adore that you were, too. You wouldn't have many opportunities to initiate it, though, as he'd be quite clingy and touchy without prompting

- Pavi returns affection and compliments, of course. He praises you and talks sweetly (at least, you think it’s sweet?) in his typical eccentric way, bragging about you and how much you loved ~the Pavi~ to his siblings (and probably anyone who listens)

Billy Lenz:

- Billy can say the lewdest things, yet somehow still manages to get flustered when you give him any type of affection

- That doesn't mean he doesn't like it though. Quite contrarily, he'd (discreetly, or so he thought) give you every opportunity to give him affection, not wanting to seem obvious or have to ask

- He could literally curl up in your lap like a cat and just fall asleep, clinging to you and melting into your touches

- Your compliments would often be received with a clumsy attempt at self-assuredness, too embarrassed by your sweet words to keep up the ruse. That wouldn't stop him from attempting it, though

- He adores your sweet personality, and would be far softer than you might think with you. Keeps lewd, awkward comments to a minimum and replaces them instead with sweeter, gentler words (well, to the extent that he is capable of, anyways)

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

the type you bring home to mom ~ eddie kaspbrak;it chapter two

word count: 2361

request?: no

description: in which he finally brings his girlfriend home to his over protective mother, and it goes exactly as he thought it would

pairing: teen!eddie kasprak x female!reader

warnings: swearing, overbearing mother, derogatory name calling (i guess?), basically eddie’s mom just sucking

masterlist (one, two)

note: (y/n/p) = your parents’ names

I played with the hem of my dress as I walked up to the Kaspbrak household. I was regretting my choice in wardrobe, but it was too late to change now. I knew nothing would feel right anyways, I had already changed three times before I came over.

For the first time in our year long relationship, I was meeting Eddie’s mother. We had somehow managed to keep our relationship a secret for so long that I never felt like I had to meet her, and Eddie wasn’t exactly pushing for it either. As much as he loved his mom, he also knew she was manipulative and overbearing, and he often told me how he was afraid of his mom scaring me off because of these facts.

When the news eventually got out and travelled quickly through the small town of Derry, as gossip usually does, it got to Ms. Kaspbrak in no time. She immediately demanded to meet me, and Eddie set up a dinner at his house for the occasion.

Before I could even knock on the door, it swung open to reveal my tall boyfriend smiling down at me. Any tension I had melted away as I looked up at him, into those beautiful eyes that could calm me down whenever they were on me. He took my face in his hands and pulled me to kiss him. It was such a normal action that, at first, I leaned into it happily, until I realized the circumstances of my visit and quickly pushed him away.

“She’s not here,” he said, as if reading my worried thoughts. “She’s gone out to get some stuff for dinner.”

He stepped aside to let me step into the house. It wasn’t unfamiliar territory; Eddie and I had had many rendezvous there during the rare moments when his mom wasn’t home, but it felt wrong to be there on this occasion. I just wanted it to end already, and to go home or go for a long drive with Eddie.

“Come, sit,” he said, leading me to his living room. We sat close to one another on the couch, so close that we were just barley touching. Feeling his arm brush against mine sent sparks through me.

“How worried should I be?” I asked him, trying to remain as light as possible.

He sighed and shuffled in his seat. “I wish I could tell you not at all, but...”

He trailed off so I finished his sentence for him, “But it’s your mom.”

Eddie nodded. “But it’s my mom.”

One of his arms was around my waist. I hadn’t realized that the skirt of my dress had hiked up a little until the hand around my waist started to play with the hem, his fingertips brushing against my ass. His other hand touched my leg, starting lightly on my knee and then slowly travelling up my thigh till it stopped on my inner thigh. I shivered, wanting him to go further.

Most people who knew him would never believe that Eddie Kaspbrak, the hypochondriac, fast talking, former sheltered mama’s boy, would be absolutely mind blowing in bed, and constantly handsy whenever we were alone. I hadn’t even believed it until we got together, but man, Eddie knew how to make me feel absolutely amazing.

He leaned forward to kiss my neck, his fingers tracing circles in my inner thigh. I was shivering with anticipation and whimpers were escaping my lips. I could feel Eddie’s amused smirk against my neck as he placed another kiss there and lifted his head to look at me. He kissed my lips and his hand finally made its way further up my skirt.

Our moment was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming. I practically jumped to the other side of the couch, touching my neck in hopes that he hadn’t accidentally left hickies there.

“You’re good,” he said, understanding what I had been doing.

The front door opened and I suddenly felt paralyzed. I wasn’t sure if I should stand up or stay sat down, if I should move even further away from Eddie or stay exactly where I was. In the end, I stayed frozen like a deer in headlights as his mom rounded the corner, arms full of grocery bags.

“Oh,” she said when her eyes landed on me. “Is this...her?”

There was a slight leer to the way she said “her”, which made me want to squirm under her intense gaze.

“Mom,” Eddie said, a partial warning tone in his voice, “this is (Y/N), my girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Kaspbrak,” I said. “Do you, um, need any help with - ”

“No,” she cut me off. “I have it. You’re early.”

“I told her this is when to get here,” Eddie defended. “You wouldn’t tell me exactly when to invite her over.”

“Well, this is hardly dinner time,” his mother huffed. “It’ll take me a while to get dinner ready.”

“I can help,” I offered again.

“No,” she said, sharply, which told me that was the end of the matter.

I shrunk down in my spot on the couch.

“Mom,” Eddie snapped again.

She glared at me before turning to her son, trying to soften her expression for him. “I’ll let you know when the food is ready. For now...stay here.”

When she disappeared into the kitchen, Eddie immediately moved to sit next to me and took my hand in his.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “I’ll get through it. It’s just dinner then we’re done, right?”

He nodded, but I could see the worry on his face still.

A while later, Ms. Kaspbrak called to tell us dinner was ready. She had made sure to place everything so that Eddie and I were sat at the heads of the table, far apart from one another, while she was sat between us. Eddie and I shared a look before sitting in our designated spots.

Dinner started with awkward silence besides our cutlery against the plates. I tried to keep my attention on my plate, but every so often I’d glance up at the Kaspbraks to see Eddie nervously glancing between me and his mother, and his mom just glaring daggers at me. The nervousness I was feeling took away my appetite, but I felt like I had to eat everything to make a good impression, if that was even possible.

“So,” Ms. Kaspbrak said, drawing our attention to her, “(Y/N). Your parents are (Y/P/N), right?”

She already knew the answer to this question. I had grown up in Derry, where everyone knew everyone. There was a reason she was asking, and I had a feeling I already knew what that reason was.

“They are, yeah,” I responded.

“And they’re divorced, aren’t they?”

“Mom!” Eddie groaned.

“It’s just a question, Eddie,” his mom said.

“It’s okay,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t mind talking about it. That’s kind of old news anyways. They divorced when I was 10, dad moved to the next town over and mom got full custody of me.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very stable upbringing,” Ms. Kaspbrak commented. “I’m sure it’s taken such a toll on you, you must’ve decided to rebel somehow.”

Eddie put his face in his hands, officially admitting defeat on trying to stop his mother.

“Actually it wasn’t anything like that,” I said. “Mom and dad stayed pretty civil. There wasn’t any big fight or anything, just an agreement that they’re better off not being married. When dad moved he made sure to stay in constant contact, and comes to visit all the time or I’d go to visit him. Mom always made sure I had a roof over my head and food on the table. They both love me unconditionally, even if they’re not together.”

Ms. Kaspbrak sat back in her seat, a sour look on her face. “Well...regardless, it’s just not right to be raised by a single mother.”

Feeling a bit brave, I raised an eyebrow at her. “Eddie was raised by a single mother.”

“That’s different. My husband died, he didn’t decide to abandon me and Eddie.”

“My dad didn’t abandon us, he’s still very much a part of our lives.”

She ignored me and continued to eat. I looked across the table at Eddie to see him avoiding all eye contact with either of us as he pushed his food around on his plate. As if feeling my gaze, he looked up at me. I gave him a small smile to try and indicate that I wasn’t upset with him. I wanted him to know everything was going to be okay, even if I didn’t fully believe it myself.

“How many boys have you had sex with, (Y/N)?”

The question caught me off guard and I nearly choked on the food I had just put in my mouth.

“Jesus Christ, mom!” Eddie snapped.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein, Edward,” his mother chastised him.

“You can’t just ask something like that, mom, that’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business. I need to make sure my son isn’t dating a slut. I remember you were friends with Beverly March before she moved away, and trust me, I heard all sorts of stories about her. Anyone who would hang around with her must be somewhat similar.”

The mention of the untrue bullshit that used to be spread about Bev made the anger within me bubble over. I was seeing red as I looked up at Ms. Kaspbrak, and I was ready to pounce.

“Actually, your son took my virginity, and I took his,” I told her. “And we have sex quite a lot, sometimes upstairs in his bedroom when you’re not home. Although, for someone who says he was a virgin I don’t know how much I believe it. Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do.”

If he was upset with me for saying all of this, Eddie’s face didn’t show it. He was sipping on his water, trying to hide the smug smile that broke out across his face.

Ms. Kaspbrak’s face turned blood red before she rose from the table. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Gladly,” I said, abandoning my dinner to quickly leave the shitty situation.

“And don’t you dare come anywhere near my son again, or else I will have the cops on you!” she threatened.

I stopped and turned back to face her. “For what? For dating your son? For showing him that there’s someone who actually cares about him without manipulating him? For finally cutting the cord that you’ve had wrapped around his neck since he was born? Ms. Kaspbrak, I understand that you’re afraid to lose your son the way you lost your husband, but being a manipulative bitch who forced him to think he had illnesses he didn’t have for years and insulting his girlfriend in front of him is not the way to keep him around. Eddie is 18 years old, he’s an adult. He can do whatever he wants, which includes dating whoever he wants and leaving this hell hole that you have the audacity to call a home. The day that you finally accept that just might be the day that Eddie finally considers you to be an actual mother.”

And with that, I decided not to overstay my welcome and left.

I was only a few feet away from Eddie’s house when I heard him calling after me. I slowed my pace just enough that he could catch up with me, but didn’t completely stop. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and the Kaspbrak house as I could.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed as he fell in step next to me.

“For what?” Eddie asked. “I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“You warned me on how she would be, and I still let her get to me,” I said. “I probably made having to live there a whole lot harder.”

“It was hard to begin with, (Y/N). Nothing could make it harder than what it was,” he told me. “What you said, it was all true. Mom needed to hear that. Doesn’t mean she liked hearing it, or that she’ll actually accept it, but she needed to hear it none the less.”

“I guess I could’ve said it nicer,” I said. “Or at least not included details of our sex life.”

Eddie awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, could’ve done without mom knowing I’m a sex god.”

I gave him a look and playfully nudged him. “I never said you were a sex god.”

“Eddie has done things that I don’t even think the most experienced of people could do I believe were your exact words.”

“I only said that to make her more upset.”

“So you’re saying I’m bad at sex?”

I pushed him again. “Eddie!”

He laughed and put an arm around my waist. “I appreciate the compliment either way. And I hope you know how much I love you.”

I smiled up at him and leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

We walked in silence for a while and, before I knew it, we were at my house. We stopped and turned to face each other.

“Want to stay over tonight?” I asked. “I figure going home isn’t exactly the best option right now.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “Will your mom be okay with it?”

“Of course she will, she loves you. She’ll probably even cover for you if your mom calls.”

“I take it back, I don’t love you. I love your mom.”

“And I take back my offer. Go sleep on the streets.”

I took off for my front door with Eddie hot on my trail. I tried to open it and lock him out before he caught up to me, but of course his long legs gave him an advantage. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me away from the door, both of our laughs ringing out through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

#eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak imagine #eddie kaspbrak x reader #james ransone #james ransone imagine #james ransone x reader #teen!eddie kaspbrak #it chapter two #imagine #one shot #requests #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 2 years

Text

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 7

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1406

Summary: The trip from Ketterdam across the Fold brings up some bad memories. Kaz has . . . feelings.

The process of traveling to the Little Palace was something that you could only describe as nightmarish. Literally, in some aspects.

It all started with Inej’s heartfelt goodbye coupled with Jesper’s over-the-top hugs and jokes about how you would soon be the owner of the Slat as well as your little tailor shop because ‘Who else would Kaz leave it to?’ To that, you’d only been able to stare, heart pounding out of your chest at losing your closest friends the same way you’d almost died as a child. And they weren’t kids. There was no way for them to rely on the kindness of strangers to see them to safety. If they were lost to the Fold they’d simply disappear. You’d likely be the only person to know what happened; yet, even you wouldn’t know what happened.

But what really grinded your gears was the look that Kaz had given you whilst saying his own farewell. His face was tense, eyes tight, almost like he . . . regretted something. The fact that he’d asked you to play backup for them now that he saw the fear that was so clearly displayed on your face? You doubted it. Still, you didn’t miss the way his ears turned the slightest bit pink when Jesper teased, “Relax, boss, she’ll be waiting right here for you when we get back. Just like always.”

“I want you to have this,” Inej had said just before slipping onto their boat. She handed you an unmarked knife of hers, one without a saint etched into it. “I picked it out for you to have . . . just in case.”

It was beautiful, you’d realize later. A simplistic marvel of blackened steel for the blade and an intricate silver hilt.

“I wanted it to match your coat; the one you always wear.” She didn’t call it a kefta because she didn’t know that it wasn’t simply a replica. There was so much you hadn’t told them, and still she was worried about you despite the suicidal trip she was about to embark on.

“Be safe,” you pleaded. Those were your last words to her. To Kaz, you just gave a solemn nod as Jesper chattered at him.

Then there was the trip across the True Sea where you were left alone on a ship bound for Ravka that left only a few hours after your friends. The journey was only difficult on your mind--every night you fell asleep with the thought that you were headed for death; you escaped the fold once, surely it would take its due this time around?--and not your body since you were largely left alone. Mostly, that leg of the trip was just boring. Exactly once did a man try to get a bit too friendly with you, and you’d swiftly put an end to that by delivering a lovely little cut to his jugular with Inej’s gift.

Once on land again, the trip to Novokribirsk consisted of you being skittish of every single person who crossed your path. You knew it was nothing but paranoia, but still your worries lingered. There was no one in this entire country that could recognize you as that child from so long ago, and your well-worn but easily recognizable, stolen kefta was balled up and shoved into the bottom of your pack where no one could see it. You’d only brought it as a safety blanket, something to be pulled out in case you ended up in a fight . . . or if you needed its presence as a comfort.

Without it, your shirt’s sleeve occasionally rode up, revealing your Dregs tattoo. But again. There was no one in this country that would know what it meant. To these people, you were just another traveler, not a shadow summoner/gangster in some far away city.

And then came the night you stayed in a little inn down the road from both your friends and the looming presence of the Fold itself. You found yourself unable to sleep. The Fold’s writhing mass tickled the back of your mind like an itch you couldn’t scratch, and it just wouldn’t stop squirming despite how much you tried to shield yourself from it. You’d tried putting your pillow over your head, closing your eyes, hands on your ears, everything but still the feeling lingered.

It was because you were so wrapped up in trying not to lose your mind to the Fold’s dark whispering that you failed to notice the quiet scratching at your door that indicated your approaching guest until Kaz’s nervous voice called your name.

All at once, your attention snapped onto your friend. Your hands were still clamped around your ears, knees to your chest as you asked, “Kaz?”

His dark eyes looked around the room warily before honing back in on you and studying the sight before him. Any other time, you’d be embarrassed about your current state of undress, but right now you could’t bring yourself to care about anything more than the distraction his presence brought you. When he looked pointedly at the floor, you followed his gaze. Only then did you realize the way your shadow--not the room’s various shadows, those were squirming in a mirror image of the Fold’s all-encompassing darkness, but yours, the one that always felt different, the one you could sometimes feel things through like a ghostly limb--was winding its way around Kaz’s legs threateningly like a sea monster’s tentacles.

“Sorry,” you apologized meekly, retracting the shadows carefully.

There was a long silence where he just looked at you while you pointedly refused to return the favor. It’d been years since you lost control to that degree; yet one day near the Fold and you were already falling to pieces.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“I can handle it,” you argued despite the way you were still curled around yourself..

“Can you?” He moved to sit at the foot of your bed facing you. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. He ached with that desire and could feel his skin tingle at the thought of it brushing you, but simultaneously he felt the familiar nausea curling in his stomach at the thought. But there was no way for you to know all that.

You finally met his gaze again, fire in your eyes as your hands slipped down to rest on your knees. “Yes. Once we’re through the Fold . . . I can handle it.”

“And if we run into him? What then?”

“Then we learn who’s the stronger grisha.” Spite filled your voice with more confidence than you felt. You would not fall in this country. You wouldn’t. “What’s the plan for tomorrow? I assume that’s why you’re here.”

The plan was a simple one: the Conductor would sneak you onboard in the morning, the Crows would follow later, once across you’d sneak off well after they left. Simple. Straight forward.

But then Jesper didn’t get enough coal.

Then the volcra came, their screams ripping through your ears just like they had all those years ago, the same screams that you still heard in your nightmares on particularly bad nights. They were every bit as haunting, too. Terrified, you kept yourself wrapped in shadows as tightly as you could throughout the ordeal.

And then he came through. Jesper, beautiful, vibrant, perfect Jesper that came through in style to save all your lives with his trademark impossible shots. You didn’t even have to see it to know that it was glorious. You could tell by the sound of the gunfire.

Then it was over, and the silence rang in your ears the same way that it did so many years ago. You were out of the Fold’s suffocating grip. You survived again. You had half a mind to follow the Ravkan tradition and scar up your arm to mark the success, but the sane part of you knew how stupid it was to make your history so obvious for the world to see. Instead, you simply rubbed the Dregs tattoo with your thumb. It meant more to you anyway, the reminder of your friends, of Kaz.

“Now to get into the Little Palace,” you heard Kaz say in a voice far too calm for what you all just went through.

“Oh, that’ll be easy,” came Jesper’s exasperated tone.

“Jes . . .” that was Inej, pacifying the pair as always.

Saints, you’d missed them.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #reader insert #shadow and bone imagine #shadow summoner!au #sab imagine #six of crows imagine #soc imagine #10k

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Text

"Stop fucking looking at me like that!"

Referencing this post I made, I thought why not :’D

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Rummaging through the big chest, Enderman supplied it with the new items he gathered. Meat, vegetables, a potion for the worst case. Buckets of water and milk, everything you needed to have as a human. It should be enough to last at least for the upcoming weak, but you had been complaining about it rotting and molding since you couldn’t eat it fast enough or preserve it. You were also craving fruits. Biting his lip, he thought hard about how to accommodate your wishes better when he suddenly heard the growling of a zombie nearby, making him come to an immediate stop.

If he was quiet enough, the zombie shouldn’t be able to make you out inside this little, sparely filled room he created. No one said it would be easy to accumulate enough obsidian to build this hut. Still, it was the only way to keep you safe, even if it took him forever. All these monsters and treacherous villagers outside were after you, and even if he was able to keep them at bay for a long time, what if one day he couldn’t be around to keep you from harm? Perhaps it wasn’t a very pretty domicile, but it was safe. The only light source was one window, but he built it high enough so no zombie, skeleton, or creeper would be able to look through it. He collected a bed for you, chests, and books from the village, but that was all there was to keep you busy.

Enderman listened intently, waiting for the footsteps and grunts to disappear before he could let out a sigh of relief. Even with all the precautions he made, one could never be too safe. Even if he wasn’t worried about himself, if it was for you, he’d do everything to keep you far away from the dangerous mobs roaming the world. Continuing to pack your chest with edibles, he didn’t notice you slowly waking up, rising behind him. Enderman made a point out of coming at night rather than day to avoid the one thing that made him uncomfortable. While he would have loved interacting with you, the human custom of keeping eye contact was something he could never bear to endure. Not even for you.

Even now, your eyes drilling into his back, he began to shake anxiously, hoping you’d recognize him and go back to sleep.

But you didn’t.

You never did.

“It’s late,” he chuckled nervously, slowly closing the lid of the chest before standing up. He had to raise the ceiling quite a bit after realizing he couldn’t fit the space after he built it. Even if he could teleport in and out at his leisure, with his size, it would have been hard to stay with you in an emergency had he kept it at his first draft. But he learned that humans quite liked high ceilings, and secretly he hoped that meant you liked him too, considering his size.

“You should be sleeping. I brought new food, so you can rest assured.”

Was he just talking to overcome the awkwardness? You’ve been nearly killing him with this silent treating of yours, only ever looking at the back of his head. It was unfathomable why you’d treat him with such disrespect. He had voiced his discomfort more than once, but you insisted that you hated his treatment of you, and as such, he’d have to endure the same. But how could you? All of this was only ever in your best interest. Out there, you’d have done the same to keep safe - build a home and gathered food - so why did you hate it when he did it? Wasn’t he good to you? Didn’t he try his best to fulfill all your wishes? Was it too much to ask for that you were safe under his care?

“Please stop,” he whispered with clenched teeth, the shaking of his body getting stronger. “What more do I need to do to make you stop looking at me like that?”

“Let me go,” you finally spoke up, the sound of your voice almost as beautiful as he remembered it--no, even better! A quiet gasp escaped him after finally receiving a word from you, and he turned around for the first time in forever to face you.

A big mistake.

Your eyes met as Enderman suddenly felt overcome with a wave of emotions. He wished it had been only positive ones, but there was no way he could escape his instincts. Doubling over in pain, he grunted, trying to keep himself under control, but to no avail. Even in his state, he could clearly perceive the shuffling of blankets as you got up, noticing the state he was in. Though he wanted to believe you cared for him, it was clear you were merely concerned about what to do if something happened to him. But that would be enough. Even if you just liked him for his use, it would be enough to satisfy him. As long as he could keep you safe, you could use him as much as he wanted.

The obsidian made no sound as he gripped you by the wrists, slamming you into the wall. Your body, on the other hand, made an absolutely horrifying crack, so much so, Enderman feared the worst already. But one look at your eyes showed them clear as day, still very much able to perceive him. Perhaps adrenaline soothed your pain momentarily.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that! I told you so many times to fucking stop! When will you listen?!”

His yell filled the whole space around you two. If he hadn’t been seething with anger, he’d have instantly regretted raising his voice. No less because it could have attracted unwanted visitors. Enderman had never lashed out at you before, never done anything that would put you into the opposite of what he wanted - danger. But here he was, eyes falling to your mouth as your breath hitched, unable to form a word. All you did - finally! - was looking down and away from him before pinching your eyelids close tightly.

Immediately, he felt much calmer, now that you weren’t drilling holes into him anymore. Regaining his senses, he let go of you, letting you plummet back onto the bed he held you above. Whether or not you were in pain wasn’t something either of you seemed to notice. Instead, you were quick to hug yourself, fearful tears rolling from the closed corners of your eyes despite no sobs escaping you. You had no weapons to defend yourself, and a punch didn’t do as much as one of his did to you. It must have been a big shock for you to see the other side of Enderman, one you had a hard time comprehending.

Placing his hand on your shoulder, you flinched noticeably before finally breaking down into crying, collapsing forward onto the mattress. Enderman stood there lost for words or actions to console you, wanting to say something, apologize even! It didn’t matter who’s fault it was, he never wanted to see you hurt or crying! That’s why he did all of this after all!

Instead, he remembered the peculiar thing he found in one of the villages. It was a banner, something he thought you might enjoy hanging up in your tiny home, but when he reached for it now, he had a different idea of what to do with it. Ripping off the bottom wasn’t easy even for him, especially since he allowed no tools or scissors in this safe space. But once he had it, he returned to your side, kneeling next to your bed and lifting your head gently. You tried to turn your face away, but he had a tight grip on you, nudging you to face him. Good as you were, you kept your eyes closed still.

Even if he couldn’t be sure how to do it, he loosely tied the cloth around your head, covering your eyes with it. “W-What…?” you stuttered meekly, feeling the fabric on your skin, and Enderman hushed you gently. “This will do. You won’t be able to look at me this way. You’ll never need to be afraid anymore; this will keep you safe, I promise.”

Whether his assurance went through to you, he couldn’t decide, unable to read your expression as you bit your lip. Your body began to shake again, and it felt almost like his whenever you made him uncomfortable and anxious. Enderman knew this feeling all too well, but you wouldn’t need to bear it alone. He could if he had to, but he wouldn’t let you go through these complicated feelings alone.

Easily, with inhuman strength, he picked you up, sitting down where you had been just seconds ago, and lifted you into his lap. Finally, his big body and long arms were good for something, even if he hadn’t expected it would be comforting you. If it was for him, you two could have continued the relationship you had. Enderman would have simply stayed by your side while you slept, brushing the hair out of your face and pulling up the blanket over you to make sure you had a good rest. You didn’t need to recognize his efforts, and you could even scream at him if you’d prefer that, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He knew you were safe and well-taken care of, and he’d never forget you needed him. That was enough.

But now that he held you in his arms, he wasn’t sure if it was enough for him anymore.

Now that this awful habit of looking at him had been prevented, nothing was stopping him from being close to you. Now he could touch you, hold you, comfort you tenderly! All without fearing what might happen. “It’s going to be alright now,” he hushed you sweetly. “I’m so sorry I lashed out, I will do everything to make it up to you! I’ll bring new books and flowers to decorate with soon, everything will be okay. You can always rely on me; I’ll keep you company from now on, trust me!”

He meant it. Even if he didn’t understand most of the complicated feelings you had, you must have felt relieved as you started to cry even more. And so was he. He was relieved too. Who knew being with you so close, holding you, and swaying back and forth with you felt so wonderful. The only other time he held you, felt your warmth and heartbeat, had been when he teleported you inside of this room. Enderman had always believed that to be the height of all emotions, but he now realized there was so much more! So many more opportunities and feelings to explore. But you had time, right? He wouldn’t be greedy; he’d take his time to explore them all with you and enjoy them thoroughly.

After all, you were safest with him.

And he was the happiest with you.

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wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Good Enough

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes south and you can’t get past a loss, Dean helps you through it.

Requested by Anonymous: “Hi! I was just wanting to request and dean winchester x reader where the reader is struggling to deal with a hunt that didn’t go right and the person they were trying to save didn’t make it and dean helps the reader?”

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, guilt, injury, blood, comfort, fluff

If there’s anyone that knows you better than you know yourself, it’s Dean Winchester. He knows you like the back of his hand and it’s been like that for as long as he can remember. That being said, it takes a lot to get anything past him. It takes a whole lot to fool the green eyed hunter, no matter how good you are at telling him you’re fine. He knows the signs, he knows what to look for.

He knows.

This time was no different than before. He knew it the moment it happened, saw the look on your face, that frown you got that you don’t even realize you have. He knew it because it wasn’t like most other times when you lose someone on a hunt. Each time it happens it’s never easy, it’s never ideal when you lose people to some nasty monster that does nothing but prey upon people. They were monsters, that’s what they do.

It was never easy but he knows the difference between you brushing it off and accepting it, stuffing it down and moving on with the next hunt, and you brushing it off when it really digs down and bothers you. He knows that difference and he knows that lie.

You’re a strong hunter, the strongest one he knows and you certainly handle things in the department of working through your emotions a whole lot better than he can. So much better but even then you still have your moments, still have times where a hunt will bother you far too much for you to deal with that all on your own. He knows the signs, he knows exactly what to look out for.

The moment you lost her you shut down. Your gaze lingered and you did that thing you always do—you swallow real hard and you tense your jaw and he knows you’re trying to reign it in because if you don’t you’ll cry right then and there no matter how hard you deny it. You get real quiet, really dismissive and that’s the most telling thing about you. Your silence.

You’re quiet as you sit in the Impala, gaze fixed out of the window as you bite consistently on the inside of your cheek. You say nothing as you sit there and think of everything you did wrong as a hunter that night, everything you should’ve and could’ve done better, the things that wouldn’t have happened had you just done your job. They ran through your mind in a loop of torment and self doubt, every inadequacy you felt you had rising to the surface and boiling over.

The more you thought about just all the ways you possibly could have messed up the time, what the end result was, it made it all the more difficult to keep that tremble from your bottom lip. It made your stomach twist in knots and it made your head ache from suppressing those tears that just wouldn’t go away. It was hard, it was harder than ever to sit there and reign it in.

Dean only found a motel to stay at all of half an hour ago. That demon drug the two of you miles away and a few towns over. Sam wasn’t along, hung back at Jody’s with a broken arm and a busted ankle. There was only one room left at that motel and it just barely worked out that way for the two of you because there wouldn’t have been a bed for Sam. It took about two minutes for Dean to make that decision to skip out on the motel, to drive the extra miles just to get back to Jody’s that night. There’d be left overs of a home cooked meal for you to have, there’d be a much nicer bed for the two of you to share.

It’d be better on you than some tacky, old motel room for a change.

He glanced over at you, that’s what he did the entire drive was steal glances at you. Each and every time he was met with that same look, that same sorrowful look that screamed regret and guilt and he hated that the feeling even crossed your mind. He knew that’s what it was and he didn’t need to ask, it was clear as day what it was.

There wasn’t that much longer of a drive left, he knows that, but he finally felt it was a good time to slip his hand in yours. He knew it was because even though you were stubborn as hell when you were like this, he felt the way you scooted a little closer to him, he felt the way you toyed with the ring on his finger. Your gaze was still focused out the window.

He noticed the little things and it made all the difference in the world.

When you did finally get there, you were ever so quick to snag your duffel bag and go, to slip through the door with hopes of sneaking past any company. You weren’t in any shape to be around anyone, you looked worse for wear in far more ways than one. That quiver in your lip worsened and the clench in your jaw tightened.

Dean knew you’d disappear and he let you, he let you go off and have your space for a little while but he stayed close behind because he knew. He knows that no matter how hard you might try and look tough, no matter how hard you try and prove that you want to be by yourself, it isn’t true. You’ll never admit it but you don’t need to, he knows you don’t really want to be alone, and if there’s one person you really truly need, it’s Dean.

But he lets you have your space for a little while.

So, he checked on Sam, checked on Jody a while. He made conversation with them on how the hunt, didn’t give specifics but they knew it didn’t go so well. They knew because you were there to give them that hug you always do. He made conversation but you were on the very forefront of his mind, and he lingered, he did that until he couldn’t anymore.

You’d splashed water over your face a million times over, more and more until you felt even just a fraction better. You had your own bumps and bruises from the hunt but that was the least of your concerns. A few scrapes, a few bruises here and there was nothing compared to what happened that day.

You didn’t worry about yourself, didn’t want to, it wasn’t a big deal and it felt selfish to worry about what little damage you walked away from that hunt with. It could’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t, it should’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t. That very idea played through your mind over and over without pause. You had to expect this kind of thing on a hunt, that’s what happens as a hunter, but it hurts every single time.

Usually you can brush these things off. Usually you can push it to the very corners of your mind and move onto the next hunt with just as much optimism as before, with just as much courage as before. You could take things as they come and you could accept the downfalls of being a hunter for what it was because at the end of the day these things were monsters.

When you thought about it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. It made it feel like you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, they were supernatural monsters that most people don’t even believe in till they see it for themselves. You knew it was bound to happen, you knew the job wasn’t ever going to be perfect. You knew it but you couldn’t believe it this time.

You rifled through your bag where you’d tossed it on the bed, looking for something you didn’t quite remember. Something, anything to busy your mind and the building pressure behind your eyes. You were frazzled, bursting at the seams and you knew it.

The knock at the door made you jump a little, but you didn’t look up, you knew who it was. You tried to ignore the burning ache running along the heel of your hand, the jagged scratch along your skin more and more painful as it sits under the scrap of bandana tied over it. You tried to hide it so Dean wouldn’t fuss over you, so he didn’t worry because he’d been through enough that day.

“Hey,” he said softly, gently as he walked in the room with the kindest smile.

“Hey,” you say, all the more softer as you dig around some more, letting out a frustrated huff as you lose your train of thought.

“Y/n.”

You didn’t hear him at first, too caught up in your own mind, in your own looping guilt that ate away at you. Too caught up in trying your hardest not to give it up and cry in front of him because that’s the last thing you wanted to do. But it was becoming increasingly obvious as you all but dumped the contents of your duffel bag on the bed, only to realize it was Dean’s.

You let out a frustrated groan as you pick up his clothes you’d tousled around, putting them back in their rightful bag before going for your own. You weren’t yourself and that much was clear, each second that passed you were handling things worse and worse and he saw the way your frown tugged ever so softly at the corners of your mouth. He saw the way you clenched your jaw.

“Y/n.”

You look up at him, gaze meeting his for the first time since that hunt a couple hours back. Your eyes are quick to move, though, fixating on the cut above his eyebrow, the crimson slowly but steadily beginning to trickle down his temple once more. Then they bounce to the cut across the bridge of his freckled nose, swollen and pale purple around it. They went from his nose to the one on his cheek, to the blood staining in his hair. Then you circle back to his gaze, the mere sight of the concern pooling in his eyes having your own begin to gloss over.

All that, all of that was from saving you as you tried to save her back there. Those cuts and bruises he’s got on his face, any bit of pain he was in had guilt bubbling in the pit of your stomach, twisting in knots because you felt you were solely to blame for it.

You swallowed thickly and he saw that too, that thing you always did, and you cleared your throat quickly. You snagged your first aid kit from your bag once you realized that’s what you were looking for.

“Let me patch you up,” you say, and he can hear every ounce of your emotions in your words. He could hear it in your tone and he could see it in that look you’ve got on your face.

His shoulders slump a little and his brows furrow, lips pursing softly as he looks at you with that realization. He can see it in the way your gaze lingers on those cuts in his face a little too long for it not to be so.

“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you think this is your fault,” Dean says, soft and hopeful that you don’t.

You swallow thickly, biting the inside of your cheek as you look at him with that crease between your brows. That tremble in your lip is back, that stupid thing that gives away just how bad you’re really hurting.

“I know it is, Dean,” you say quietly, toying with the kit in your hand as you narrow your gaze up at him.

You watch as his lips purse a little more, as that furrow in his brows becomes all the more apparent.

“Y/n, it wasn’t—”

“Let me patch you up, Dean,” you said once more, a little louder than the last.

He looks at you, at that look you’ve got, one look and he caves. One looks and he’s sighing, following you to the bathroom. There’s not a chance he’s blaming you for getting a little roughed up back there, he never would. He made that choice to step in and snag you before that demon could get you too while you tried to save that girl. He made that choice and if he came out of it a little bloody then so be it. He’ll take it over losing you any day.

He takes a seat on the toilet lid, patient as ever as he gazes up at you with all the softness in the world. It nearly makes you fall apart right then and there, but you don’t.

You take a breath and you dampen a cotton pad with an antiseptic, your good hand settling on his cheek. You feel the soft scratch of his stubble under your palm, you can feel the little bit of tension in his jaw but the looks he’s giving you isn’t indicative of any malice, isn’t indicative of any anger you felt you should have gotten.

Your thumb brushes over his cheek softly before you wipe away the blood that started to run down his temple. He closed his eyes briefly at the sting it evoked, you could feel a little more tension in his jaw but he didn’t say anything. You wanted to say you were sorry, you wanted to say it a million times.

He could see the way your hands trembled as you worked, and he could see it when you dropped some of the first aid supplies. You were crumbling more and more under the weight of this hunt and it was becoming increasingly more obvious the more time that ticks by. The more thought you put into the events that transpired that day.

He nudged you with his knee as you stood between his thighs, pulling your attention once more and you saw the smile tugging upwards at the corners of his mouth.

“‘Member that one hunt at the circus, that spirit masking as that goofy lookin’ clown?” He asks.

You nod softly, and he sees the corner of your mouth quirks up as soft as ever, nearly unnoticeable.

“Sam was so focused on avoiding that damn thing, so on edge that he thought I was that clown. Hit me square across the head and ran like a bat outta hell.” He chuckled softly at the memory as you cleaned him up, your smile widening just a fraction. “Knocked me flat on my ass and had my head spinnin’ for a good while. But you know who was right there with me, kept that spirit away from me while I was down?”

You tilt your head, sighing at his words. “Dean.”

“You did, Y/n/n. I was toast if you wouldn’t have been there and you know it.”

He watched that frown come along again, saw that furrow in your brows and he knows you’re still blaming yourself for what happened earlier. He knows it and it tears him up.

You put a couple butterfly closure strips across the cut above his eyebrow, and one across the bridge of his nose. You clean him up and clean that blood that’s worked it’s way in his hair along the edges. That apology is still sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be spoken a thousand times over to a man who won’t accept a single one unbeknownst to you. He won’t accept it because there’s nothing to be sorry for.

He can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek, gnawing away at it the way you do when you’re trying your very hardest not to cry. You don’t want to do that, not even a little bit, but the threat of you crumbling to pieces in front of him is becoming a little more real with each passing moment.

He looks a little better now that he’s cleaned up, now that he’s got those bandages on and that sweet smile that you know you don’t deserve. He looks better but he’s still hurt and that’s what’s nagging at you, that’s what’s wearing away at you. Two people got hurt today because of you, two people got hurt and one of them didn’t make it out alive. All because of you.

Your lip wobbles and you’re so close to losing it, so close to losing that stubbornness you’ve built up all for the sake of looking tough. That dam was about to break and you didn’t want it to.

“How ‘bout I take care of you now, sweetheart? I know your hand’s bust up pretty good,” he says, trying his best to take the heat off of you because he knows how much you don’t want to cry.

“‘M fine, Dean,” you say, stubborn as ever but he doesn’t care.

He takes your hand, turning it palm side up. He’s careful as he unties the knot in that bandana, unraveling it and pulling the bloodied fabric away. His eyes bounce to the jagged cut running along the heel of your hand, stretching all the way across to your palm. It was angry and red, and it wasn’t quite done bleeding.

You weren’t fine, you were hurt and he wouldn’t believe you for a second if you told him again that you were fine.

“Demon got you good, didn’t he?” He said he stood up, urging you to sit down in his place.

“Could have been worse. Should have been,” you say softly, and you see the faint purse of his lips and that crease between his brows.

You’re not done beating yourself up about this one and he knows it, he knows how fragile you feel and he hates that he can do better for you. He hates that he can make you see it the way he does. Because it’s not your fault. It’s that simple, it’s not your fault.

He takes your hand in his once more, palm up as he looks it over. It’s not deep enough for any stitches, but it’s nasty enough to hurt a good one for a while. It’s bad enough to know that you’re not fine. He can see it in the way you try and tug your hand away when that dreaded peroxide comes in contact with it.

You wince as it bubbles and stings, searing across your palm as his grip remains around your wrist, his palm against the back of your hand. His thumb runs back and forth against your skin as he looks at it and at you. He wipes away the excess and the blood, wipes everything carefully to keep from upsetting the wound further and to keep from hurting you in the process any more than he has to to clean it up.

That wobble in your lip is worse than ever with round two, that pent up guilt overflowing and cracking at the walls you tried so hard to keep intact. They cracked and they cracked as he patched you up, wiping your hand clean as he grabbed a cotton pad and a roll of gauze.

It hurt, it hurt way more than you let on and it was quickly becoming too much to handle as he started wrapping your hand much more securely than before. He was gentle, but the built up emotion, that pressure behind your eyes, the weight of it all was too much to bear for a moment longer and the second he looked at you, that first tear rolled down over heated cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, kneeling down in front of you, “don’t go cryin’ on me now, sweetheart.”

His words were soft as his hand settled on your cheek, thumbing away the tear that fell and the few others that followed it. “Talk to me.”

You look at him, at those bandages he’s got, you look at the way his flannel is torn and the blood you missed in his hair. You look at him, you think about that hunt. You think about what went wrong that day, what went so horribly wrong and the way everything happened. You thought about it and you thought about the nagging and numbing pain in your hand and that’s when it tumbled out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck as he knelt there in front of you. “It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, pulling you up as he stands. Your arms drop to wrap and his waist then, his grip on you tighter now as he tucks you under his chin. “Please don’t say that.”

He wasn’t going to let you blame yourself and that much was clear. He wasn’t going to let you even when you tried your hardest to make him believe it. That frustration came bubbling back in the midst of your tears, that stubbornness came back as you broke away from his embrace.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, Dean. You don’t have to try and make things better just to spare my feelings.”

You turned away from him and wiped your tears, but you felt that gentle grip on your elbow, you felt him turn you back around and tug you in close again. You wanted that, you needed that real bad and you weren’t about to push it away a second time.

You hugged around his waist once more, face hidden against heaps of flannel and his t-shirt as he held you, steady and warm. His chin rested atop your head first before he moved to press his cheek atop it, breaking every now and then to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmurs after a little while, your crying having died down to stray tears that came and went. “It ain’t even close. You know why?”

You shook your head against him, whispering a soft response.

“We did the best we could today. You did the best you could. I know it sucks and I know it hurts, damn does it hurt sometimes, but sometimes we lose that fight,” he says against the top of your head before kissing your head, pressing his cheek there once more. “But we get back up and we try again the next day. Hunting ain’t easy, and I’ll be the first to admit I don’t cope very well. You know that, sweetheart.”

He pulls back to look at you when you tip your head back, looking at you with a heavy gaze as he thumbs away those tears. You’ve got that unintentional pout as you reach up, you reach up and brush your thumb over that cut on his forehead.

“You’re hurt because of me, Dean.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he chuckles softly, bittersweet and he sees the way your gaze narrows.

“If takin’ a couple blows from a black eyed douchebag means I still get to have you here, I’ll take it,” he says, and it doesn’t help your frown.

“It’s not funny, Dean,” you grumble, exhaling a soft huff.

“Maybe a little bit,” he says, shrugging lightly and you roll your eyes, your lip still wobbling. He sighs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple before looking at you once more. “We can’t save everybody, sweetheart. It hurts, I know it does, I’m the freakin’ poster child for stuffin’ things down because I don’t wanna deal with it. I’m the worst at dealing with things. But bein’ a hunter ain’t easy. We try our best, every day we try our best. So don’t think for a second that I’m gonna blame you for this. For any of it.”

You’ve still got that narrowed stare but it softens a little, and you’ve still got that quiver in your lip but his words ease the weight in your shoulders a little bit more. Every time the thought of that hunt crosses your mind, it sends a jolt through you, makes you want to cry all over it again. It hurts and it will for a little while.

But he’s got you.

“I love you,” you whisper softly, nodding as you lean up on your toes and press a kiss on his cheek, and one to his lips. You sink back on your feet and rest your head over his heart as he squeezes you a little tighter, kissing the crown of your head.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he says, softer than soft as his brows furrow at your sniffle, at that last bit of tears you’ve got left to get out.

It was hard, it was beyond hard to lose someone in a hunt. But it’s moments like these that make it better. He’s got you.

—

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#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction

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narutogwriting · 3 years

Text

Ruin the Friendship

⋇✦ Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

⋇✦ Genre: angst; fluff; oneshot

⋇✦ CW: none

⋇✦ Length: 2.5k+

⋇✦ @gaarasandpit just a angst/fluff naruto x reader request if you’re up for it 🥰 maybe where the reader and him are somewhat close friends and he notices she’s drifting from him because her feelings get in the way? he’s oblivious and hurt about it then confrontation happens ending up in a good old love confession

“Cmon! Open up!” Naruto called from outside your house, pounding on the door like he had been incessantly for the past five minutes. “I know you’re in there!”

He did not, in fact, know whether or not you were in there, but he couldn’t imagine where else you would be.

All week you’d been missing; Naruto couldn’t find you anywhere. Sometimes he would see the flick of your hair from the corner of his eye or his ears would pick up the sound of your laugh, but by the time he turned to find you, you’d be gone.

Your absence in Naruto’s life wasn’t something of a minor inconvenience; it was a constant pain, as if he was missing a part of his own body. Iruka had joked that Naruto missing you was akin to that of a phantom limb, like there was something of him that should be there and it wasn’t and he ached because of it.

“No, Naruto. We haven’t seen her,” Shikamaru shrugged. Ino nodded her agreement.

“Sorry. Maybe she’s on a mission or something.

Naruto frowned, sighing in frustration. “Alright, well, thanks.” He muttered before he sulked off. Shikamaru and Ino watched him go, waiting until he disappeared before Ino gave you a kick under the table.

“Ow!” you whined as you crawled out from underneath, rubbing your shoulder.

Ino rolled her eyes at you. “You’re lucky Naruto’s an idiot, or he definitely would have seen you.” She told you as you slid yourself down into the seat next to her. “Remind me: why are you avoiding him again?”

Propping your elbows on the table, you rested your head in your hands as you gave a forlorn sigh. That was a loaded question. You were avoiding Naruto because the absolute worse thing that could ever occur had happened.

You’d fallen in love with the idiot blond.

And how could you not? You’d been best friends with Naruto for the longest time. He was a constant in your life, always at your side. It was rare that one of you was seen without the other.

There was no one in the entire world that could make you smile or laugh the way that he could. Whenever you were sad or hurt, he always had the words to make it all better. Naruto had the type of smile that could save people, and you were no exception. There wasn’t a person in the world that could meet someone with a heart like Naruto’s and not walk away changed.

It had been a slow thing, a soft, unsure growing. It wasn’t a feeling you’d recognized at all once, because you always loved Naruto.

It wasn’t totally strange for you to get excited when you saw him or miss him when he was gone. It wasn’t unusual to think about him before you went to sleep.

But when you began to wake up and your first thought was, “my god he’s beautiful” when you looked at the picture of the two of you on your night stand, that was a little strange. You never used to spend extra time in the morning doing your makeup when you knew you were going to see him soon.

And you never used to blush when he smiled at you. Even you could tell you laughed a little too hard when he said something even remotely funny.

It was one day when the two of you were taking a walk that it happened. He was telling you a story, his motions large and exaggerated. Of course, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. As he turned to you, arms raised high over his head, his foot hit a rock. Naruto went sprawling to the floor, rolling across the ground and landing flat on his back.

You burst out laughing at the scene, hurrying to kneel at his side. “Are you okay!?” You asked him between giggles.

Naruto’s face was bright red with embarrassment as he laid on the floor. He looked up at you, smiling sheepishly. “Oops…”

It was such a simple thing, but you’d looked at Naruto and thought, “I love him so much.”

Nothing had ever startled you more.

Of course you loved Naruto; that was a given. It was never anything that needed to be thought or said. It was just a fact. But as soon as you had thought the words, you knew that it was different this time. You didn’t just love Naruto.

You were in love with him.

You’d hoped that the feelings would fade. Maybe it was just a fluke or a passing crush. Day in and day out, you waited for your feelings to go back to normal, but now that you’d acknowledged them, they only seemed to grow stronger. It got to the point where you couldn’t even look at naruto without turning into a blushing mess. It was pathetic.

So you’d decided there was only one reasonable solution: you would have to avoid him for as long as it took for the feelings to go away.

And of course you didn’t want to stay away from him. Being with him was as natural as breathing. But the way you saw it, if he found out about your feelings, your friendship could be ruined forever. This way, you could take some space, move on, and resume your friendship like nothing happened.

But Naruto wasn’t making that easy.

You hadn’t realized just how much time you and Naruto spent together until you were trying to distance yourself from him. He was everywhere. Every meal, every free moment, he was by your side or trying to be at least.

“Wanna go eat?” “Wanna go train with me?” “Let’s watch a movie!” “I heard there’s gonna be a festival in the next town over!”

You couldn’t get away from him. So this past week, you’d taken to hiding from him every time you saw him, deciding it was easiest to just avoid him completely. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe just how much time and effort Naruto was putting in to trying to find you.

But of course he was putting in effort. Because you were his best friend and he couldn’t understand it; where you’d gone or why you weren’t talking to him. Had he done something wrong? Were you mad at him or something? Your absence in Naruto’s life was drawing out every insecurity he hadn’t even realized he still had. He was worried, drowning in anxiety.

What if you’d decided you didn’t want to be his friend anymore? Maybe you were annoyed with him, found him to be too much. When you and Naruto had first become friends, he thought it was too good to be true. There was no way that someone as nice and pretty and cool as you would want to be friends with him. No one had ever wanted to be his friend before.

But there you were with your sweet smile and calming presence. You had accepted Naruto, every piece of him, without question or reservation. You meant everything to him, so the thought of losing you had sent Naruto into a panic.

You’d managed to avoid Naruto for a full week and a half. The past three days, as far as you knew, he hadn’t even made an effort to find you. It was a relief and heartbreaking all at once. You needed your space, but it hurt to think that maybe Naruto didn’t miss you at all anymore.

These were the thoughts racing through your head when you crawled into bed that night. You doubted you’d be getting much sleep; you’d barely gotten any since you had started avoiding Naruto.

Pulling the covers over yourself, you closed your eyes and tried to get comfortable. It seemed like hours you laid there awake before tiredness finally started to drift over you. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off to sleep when a sudden loud noise startled you awake. Sitting up quickly, your eyes darted to the window where the noise had come from.

Naruto had forcefully pried open the window, shoving himself not-so-gracefully through the opening and crashing onto the floor.

He quickly jumped to his feet, rubbing his head with a small wince before his eyes landed on you, widening slightly.

“Ah ha! I got you!” He shouted victoriously, pointing his finger in your direction. “You can’t hide from me anymore, believe it!”

God, he was too cute for words and that was exactly the problem. Your heart practically burst just looking at him as he appeared so accomplished and excited.

But the triumphant look on his face slowly vanished as he stared at you. When he spoke, his voice came out quietly, dripping with dejection. “Where have you been?”

Quietness settled over the room as the two of you stared at each other. Naruto made no move to get closer to you, and you likewise stayed strapped in your seat. “I’m sorry…” You offered weakly, unsure of what else to say.

“Don’t be sorry!” Naruto snapped, anger quickly replacing his despaired features. “Tell me why! What the hell? You think you can just avoid a guy? Cut me off like I’m nothing to you!?” He was trembling, his usual happy grin twisted into a broken grimace so despondent it took you off guard. You had caused that hurt that Naruto was feeling. The thought made you sick.

“If you don’t want to be my friend anymore, at least say something!” Naruto spat. “Don’t just run from me like a coward! If you have something to say, say it to my face!”

There was a harsh edge to Naruto’s voice that he never used with you before. Not in all of your years of friendship. You realized suddenly just how badly you’d hurt Naruto by avoiding him. It wasn’t something you’d considered; you’d only wanted some space so you could get back to normal with him.

But you saw it clearly now, the damage that you had done. Suddenly, in this moment, he was the lonely, isolated child that he had been before you met, feeling alone and abandoned in the world. And this time, it was because of you.

The regret was like bile on your tongue, and you wished fiercely that you could take back the past week and do it differently. You couldn’t stand the thought that it was you who had caused this damage to your best friend, the guy you loved so much.

You didn’t have any words to fix it. All you had was the truth.

“I love you.”

The words slipped from your mouth before you could pull them back in. And once they were out, they couldn’t be taken back.

Confusion quickly settled on Naruto’s face. It was as if you could see the anger dissipate from his body. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape, while he tried to process what you’d just said. “You… What?”

Turning bright red, you pulled the blanket back over your head in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you’d just said that! Now there would never be any going back to the way that things were, but you had to tell him. You couldn’t just let him think that you were cutting him off without reason.

“I said I love you…” You muttered from under the blanket. “I’m in love with you, Naruto. I have been for a while now, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So I thought if I just took some space and didn’t see you for a while, then maybe I would get over it, and then we could just keep things the way they were…”

It was much easier to get the words out when you were under the blanket and couldn’t see him, but you were still nauseous with anxiety as you told him how you felt. Your heart was steeling itself for rejection as you waited for his response.

The only noise was shuffling as Naruto came to your bed. You could feel the indent as he sat down next to you. He grabbed your blanket, slowly peeling it off of you and despite your reluctance, you let him.

You didn’t look at him as you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position. You’d never been so embarrassed before.

“Did it work?” He asked you quietly.

Fidgeting with the hem of your night shirt, you mumbled, “Did what work?”

“Are you over me?”

The question took you off guard, lingering between the two of you, and you couldn’t help but flicker your eyes to his. He was staring earnestly at you with those wide blue eyes you loved so much. You wanted to lie to him but you just couldn’t.

“No.”

Naruto’s focused expression stretched into a wide grin as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to him. You were too startled to respond, so you just stared at him, confused, instead.

“You scared me!” Naruto laughed happily as he rested his cheek against your head. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore! You didn’t have to completely avoid me, ya know.”

There was a mix of relief and disappointment at his reaction. So, he wasn’t weirded out about your confession? Things didn’t have to change. The two of you could stay ‘just friends.’

“So, we’re okay?” You asked him nervously. “We’re still friends?”

Naruto gave a puzzled hum as he pulled away from the hug to stare at you. He raised his eyebrow as he studied you for a moment. You could almost see the light bulb go off above his head as he realized.

“Oh!” He laughed, grinning sheepishly and rubbing his neck. “I guess I forgot to tell you it back, huh? I thought it was obvious! I love you too, believe it!”

You blinked as he giggled embarrassedly, that signature smile of his on his lips. “Naruto!” You snapped at him, lunging and knocking you both off the bed. He landed on his back with you on top of him as you rubbed your fist into his head. “You dummy!”

“Hey! Cut it out!” Naruto whined, squirming under your touch. “Is that any way to treat your boyfriend!?”

The question was enough to make you stop, your mouth frozen in a surprised “o” shape, just like he hoped. He laughed, sitting up and holding you to him before he placed a happy kiss to your cheek, making your face flush over red.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, looking at him as it finally sunk in what he said. He loved you too. He called himself your boyfriend. “Is that your way of asking me?” You questioned.

Naruto nodded earnestly. “And my way to get you to stop giving me a noogie! It’s a win win! Well, if you say yes, that is…”

Shaking your head, you laughed as your whole body softened in relief. Your arms slipped around his neck as you hugged him tightly. “Yes, obviously!” You told him. “Yes! I love you.” Naruto hugged you back just as fiercely. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t hesitate. His hand reached up to cup your cheek as he leaned forward, pressing a sweet, soft kiss to your lips.

Well, you guessed your friendship was officially ruined. But suddenly, you didn’t mind so much.

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