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succcession · 1 year

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We're gonna have a fucking baby

Kendall Roy x f!reader (Smut) 3.2k word count

Summary: After spending the day with Kendall and his two kids, Kendall admits he frequently fantasizes about having another baby with you. This conversation quickly leads to an intimate night of him trying to make that happen.

“I mean, is this all my life is y/n? Forty years of fucking up”.

“Ken, your life is forty years of being an amazing older brother, a hardworking son, and a great dad! Maybe with a few hiccups along the way but…who's counting?” you exclaimed as you placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of your emotionless boyfriend. His large eyes staring back at his reflection in the black liquid.

“The press is counting, my family is fucking counting. And you don’t have to lie y/n, I know I am neglectful in all those relationships. Especially with my kids” he roughly remarked.

For weeks you had been pushing the idea of Kendall spending more time with his kids. Whenever he had a day off you would throw out suggestions like, “Hey Ken, the weathers great! Maybe we should bring Sophia and Iverson to Central Park.” Or “NYC has so many museums, we should take Sophia to the ballet, and Iverson to the Hall of Science”. Never intending to make Kendall feel like a deadbeat dad. You knew how he admired his kids. Occasionally he just needed a little push to be there for them.

Due to Kendall’s lackluster attitude you figured today wasn’t the day to ask kendall if he wanted to make plans with his kids. Maybe it was the warm Saturday morning air flooding the usually chilling apartment, or the fact that Kendall was finally not in the office on a weekend but you just had to throw out the idea one more time. “Ken, I know you're having a rough day” you said softly as you reached out to squeeze his open hand. “But maybe not being cooped up in the office or your apartment will make you feel better-”

“Look, I know where you're going with this y/n and I’m not going to another one of your fucking pilates classes.” Kendall directly cutting off your sentence before you could finish. You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's consistent apathy.

“Damn, but I just love seeing you so worked up and sweaty” you retort. “No Ken, I was going to say, why don't we take Sophia and Iverson to the zoo today?” you cheerfully presented. To your surprise Kendalls eyes nearly seemed to light up at the word “zoo” as if something clicked inside of him, almost breaking his depressive state. Kendall responded with a quick “let me call Rava”.

You watched the rows of skyscrapers pass as you and Kendall sat in suffocating silence on the way to Rava’s apartment. Kendall fidgeted in his seat, pulling on his t-shirt, mindlessly switching between apps on his phone before eventually letting out a quiet “you know, you don't have to come if you don't want to y/n, I can pick them up by myself if it makes you more comfortable.” You placed your hand gently on his upper thigh giving a light squeeze as you explained. “Ken, it's really okay. I mean she's the mother of your children! We can't exactly avoid each other forever.” you said, showing a soft smile to assure Kendall of your confidence. Honestly, you and Rava got along fine. Although she was slow to warm up to you, you never took it personally. Who wouldn't be cautious of their drug addict, ex husbands, new girlfriend. Over time her cold demeanor shifted as you two began having small conversations whenever she would pick the kids up. You almost admired Rava in a way. She was beautiful, always looked elegantly put together, successful in her career, and she was an amazing mother. Everything you secretly hoped to one day be for Kendall.

As the car pulled up to Rava’s apartment you mind began to picture how your future might look with Kendall if things continued at the pace they were. Of course, Kendall had joked many times about getting you pregnant and running away together to get married. But you two never had a real discussion about what you saw for your future. You couldn't help but occasionally daydream of you and Kendall standing in an empty room deciding between sage green or soft peach, paint swatches for a nursery. Or rocking your baby to sleep as Kendall softly wrapped his arms around your waist, humming gently in your ear.

Your mind wandered further into your maternal daydream as your day at the zoo went on. Observing how patient and gentle Kendall was Iverson and how lovingly he doted on Sophia, had your heart skipping beats every minute. Making sure to capture hundreds of photos of all the adorable moments. Kendall typically only showed his love in undisclosed ways but with his children it was on full display.

As you and Iverson stared into a tank of swimming otters counting each one that passed, Kendall realized for the first time in weeks he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing in on him. There was something reassuring about watching you point out different frog species with Iverson and hold hands with Sophia, skipping together to each animal. Everytime he heard one of his kids yell “Dad, come look!” served as a reminder that he still had people in his life who cared about him. Who needed him.

Kendalls wandering thoughts were interrupted by a small tug on his sleeve and he looked down to find his daughter sweetly beaming up at him.

“What's up Princess? Are you having a good time?”

“Dad! y/n is so cool and you’re always happier when you're with her!” The young girl exclaimed.

Kendalls entire demeanor softened, and he kneeled down to wrap his arms around Sophia. Hearing those words nearly broke his heart. He was highly aware he wasn’t always at his best when around his kids, but he always tried to fake it for Sophia and Iverson. The fact that his kids could see past the facade made him sick. Just another reminder of the ways he was becoming like his father.

Kendall attempted to hide his shame from Sophia, responding smoothly “Yeah Soph, I guess you’re right about that. Lucky for us, I think y/n is here to stay.” In spite of her fathers hopefully tone, Sophia was hardly a young kid anymore and she could still see the fragment of sadness Kendall felt. She pleaded further “Please dad! y/n is the best! I want her around forever!”. After his divorce Kendall decided remarrying was out of the question for him. The thought of being like his dad; multiple wives with kids he ignored from each, practically gave him nightmares. However, Kendall couldn’t deny that when he met you, his mindset instantly changed. Within only a few months the thought of you having his child definitely crossed his mind more than once. He would catch himself picturing moments like you handing him a pregnancy test with a bright ‘+’ result. Staring up at him with your soft eyes anticipating his reaction. How he would scoop you up in his arms and yell “we're having a baby!” kissing you all over and reminding you how he would take care of you forever. Nonetheless, he always pushed those thoughts aside and never revealed how he really dreamed of you two ending up. The press already had a field day with your age gap, you were really starting to build momentum in your career and the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel trapped.

That night you and Kendall sat snuggling on the couch, scrolling through all of the silly photos taken throughout the day. You felt especially safe wrapped in Kendall's arms tonight. Assuming it was just the effects of getting to see Kendalls paternal instincts. He left gentle pecks along your forehead while giggling at every photo of Iverson and Sophia posing with the animals. The effortless time with his kids paired now with your warm body cuddled on top of him reliving the memories was already filling him with a mellow nostalgia.

As you scrolled past a selfie of you kissing Kendall on the cheek you giggled “we would make such cute babies.” Instantly Kendalls ears perked up seeing as he was the one usually joking about making babies.

“Are you kidding? Our kids would be like the next super model, techno DJ, fucking ultra geniuses!”

You expected Kendall to have to have such a teasing reaction but honestly you were being serious.

“Fuck yeah they would!” you joked back, pressing a peck to your boyfriend's lips. Kendall quickly deepened the kiss before pulling back to look at you.

“Did I ever tell you how sexy I think you would look pregnant?” Kendall whispered. “What? Omg Kendall no! You have never told me that” you laughed.

“Come on. What do you think… I think about after I cum in you?” he said with a large grin.

“Ken I- are you serious? Do you really think about you?”

Despite the giggle you let out as you asked, you knew Kendall caught on to the trace of hopefulness behind your question.

“Uh of course, I think about how fucking beautiful my girlfriend would be with my child, yeah.” Kendall assured.

Your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. Despite being unsure if Kendall was being honest or simply pulling your heartstrings hearing him say those words was making you melt deeper into his arms.

“Mm really? How often?” you teased, hoping to gather more confirmation that Kendall wasn’t just joking.

“Um okay, you want me to be honest?” he asked.

“One hundred percent.” you said.

“Like. Everyday.”

Stunned by his answer, your mouth fell open and stumbled to come up with a response.

“Seeing you with Sophia and Iverson, waking up to you every morning, fuck y/n, you have no idea how bad I want to come home to you and our family.” Kendall continued.

“Our family?” you questioned.

You could sense Kendalls discomfort with your reaction. You hadn’t intended to say that thought aloud but you were speechless. It felt as if the delusional world in your head and reality were swapping places.

Kendalls large eyes were staring into your eyes, anxiety flooding his body, praying you say something else.

“Ken I-” you began, before being interrupted by a distressing Kendall.

“Look y/n its just a thought, I mean I’m definitely not trying to push for something you’re not ready for, like I know your young and-”

Crashing your lips into Kendalls was the only way you knew to shut him up from his fearful rambling.

“But…I want you, Kendall.” you said.

Your hands holding his face to look directly into his dark eyes. “I want all of you. All of your bad habits. All of your ex-wife, Roy family drama baggage. And especially…to have your babies.” you drew out slowly, letting a devilish smile creep onto your face.

That was all the reassurance Kendall needed before he was kissing you deeply , moving to positioning himself in between your thighs, hovering above you.

“Is that really what you want y/n? You want me to make you mine?” His previously trembling voice was now confident and nearly patronizing.

“Mhm baby, only yours” you replied sweetly while attempting to grind your hips up to Kendalls. That slight bit of friction was met with a repressed grunt from Kendall, his hands moving to tightly grip your hips, halting any movement. You could tell Kendall was already craving you. You could feel his dick growing harder as it pressed firmly against your clothed center. The truth was Kendall was hard since the conversation had begun. Even when you had simply joked earlier about making cute babies Kendall couldn’t help the blood that instantly rushed to his cock, causing it to throb against his sweats.

Kendall moved slowly to remove the soft sweater you were wearing, gently helping you to pull out each arm before lifting it over your head. His lips softly connected to your neck. Leaving light pecks, stopping occasionally to gently suck on the skin and admire the small blemishes he was leaving behind. His large hands softly massaging your breasts before his tongue swiftly moved to draw light circles around your nipples. Taking the small bud between his lips and sucking tenderly, making sure to give each nipple equal attention. Your body pushed your chest forward desperately giving in to his delicate touch. His ability to instantly turn you into a moaning mess never failed.

You squirmed beneath him searching for something to grind against, desperate to stimulate the area he was ignoring.

“This is what you’ve been waiting for isn’t it? For me to fuck you and make you mine? Already so eager for my fucking cum in you. My pretty girl” Kendall taunted softy. Watching you gasp as your back arched into him.

“Please Ken” you pleaded.

His fingers trace slowly down your body, finally making contact with your touch deprived center. Using two fingers to rub soft circles on your clit and slide them through your slick folds pressing firmly against your slit. His fingers were instantly covered in your wetness before he even dipped them into your pussy.

Kendall stared into your eyes as he brought the first finger he used to spread your pussy to his lips. Sliding the digit slowly into his mouth, “Fuck! You taste so good”. Bringing his second finger to your mouth with a commanding “suck”. You gladly accepted and softly sucked on the flesh tasting yourself before Kendall removed the finger with a loud popping sound.

He quickly moved from between your thighs to kneeling at the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms firmly around your thighs and pulling your dripping pussy level to his mouth. You cried out as his lips connected directly to your exposed clit. Kendall hummed into your pussy as he tongued the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hands grasped desperately searching for something to hold onto as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. Kendall removed his firm grasp from around your hips and found your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “Fuck Ken! You’re gonna- make me cum! Please- please don't stop!” You cried out, squeezing his hands harder feeling your eyes close shut. On nights when Kendall was feeling especially dominating, now is when he would completely pull away. Always trying to see how many times he could bring you to the edge before he finally gave you permission to cum. However, tonight was different. Kendall was on a mission to prove just how good he could make you feel, how bad he wanted to give you everything, that he would truly take care of you. His cock was leaking with precum appreciating every sound that left your body as he continued working your pussy. Rapidly licking at your slit and sucking on your clit until finally the knot building in your stomach released. You couldn't stop the dramatic stream of moans that left your body.

“Oh my God Ken!”

“Good girl” Kendall hummed as you attempted to catch your breath feeling your sensitive pussy throbbing inside.

You yelped, as you felt Kendalls mouth return to your overstimulated clit leaving light kisses while he worked to remove his sweatpants and boxers.

Kendall gently lifted you in both arms and softly laid you back down in the center of the bed. Taking his time to kiss you deeply as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. His chest heaving against yours as he lowered his waist. His dick finally making contact where you had been craving it most, smoothly grinding his tip in between your folds.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck, his dark voice whispering lowly into your ear “You’re my fucking girl.”

“I’m all yours Ken.”

“And this.” Kendall moved his hands to lightly slap his dripping head against your clit, “is my fucking pussy.” His aggressive words muttered with affection and tenderness.

“It’s your pussy Kendall. Forever”

Gradually Kendall began pushing his tip into your soaking entrance, taking his time to guide his cock deeper. Halting his movements frequently to feel you stretch around him.

“Fuck! I love you.” He grunted when his cock finally bottomed out. Dropping all his weight onto your hips, rocking deeply into you. His body was pressed so tightly against yours making you feel especially small and protected. His pelvic bone brushing against your clit with every thrust as he smoothly gained aggression.

Breathy mumbles of “I love you too Kendall, I love you so much” left your lips. His powerful thrust sending electricity straight from your brain to your pussy and through every inch of your body. The sound of your wet pussy dripping around Kendalls cock, his warm breath brushing your neck as he moaned deeply instinctively made you wrap your legs tightly around his hips. Although Kendall had intended to be soft with you tonight he couldn't stop himself from pounding into you ruthlessly. He could feel your pussy tightening around his cock with each thrust signaling you were close to cumming once again.

“Fuck baby! Why are you so fucking wet for me huh? Does it turn you on knowing I’m gonna cum in that fucking pussy? My pretty girl, gonna have my baby?”

He wasn’t expecting a real answer, only seeking to push you closer to cumming on his cock. He was using everything in him not to cum before you and you could feel his smooth pace become more erratic as he snapped his hips harshly against yours.

Letting go of his tight grasp around your body to balance with his forearms on either side of your head. Holding your face with his hands, pressing his forehead lightly atop yours.

“You want my fucking cum?” He questioned, doing his best to maintain a firm tone as he held back his orgasm.

“Yes Ken! I want your cum, baby! Please!” you cried out.

“Tell me where you want it. Tell me where you want me to cum baby”. He was fucking into you at a brutual pace watching as tears began forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck! In my pussy Ken, please cum inside me!” you pleaded as his words drew you to your second orgasm. That was all Kendall needed to hear before he was releasing deep inside you with a powerful thrust. It felt as if you could feel his cum hitting your cervix as he maintained his rough pace, fucking his cum deeper into you. Kendall could feel his orgasm rushing through his entire body, his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching, as he felt your nails drag down his back and your pussy squeezing around him. Milking every ounce of pleasure.

Kendall slowly pulled out you with a deep sigh. The loss of contact, already causing you to feel empty. You were yearning for him to reach out his arms again and pull you into a deep hug. Kendall traced his fingers lightly over your stomach, remaining silent as he studied every inch of your body before dropping to lay down on his back next to you. “Is he already regretting this?” You thought to yourself as Kendall laid silently staring up at the ceiling. You could feel you heart slowly sinking, letting out a soft sigh as you sat up and began shuffling off the bed. Your movements, quickly interrupted by Kendall reaching to pull your body into his lap. Straddling him, his toned arms pulled you into him tightly. Your chests rose and fell in sync as you both breathe in deeply. You feel Kendalls chests begin to vibrate beneath you and he lets out a loud chuckle, brightly exclaiming “We’re gonna have a fucking baby!”

#kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy oneshot #succession smut #succession season 4 #kendall succession #succession headcanons #kendall roy x you #kendall roy fluff #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy smut

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

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Hi!! I hope you’re well! This ask is a little diff from the norm BUT it’s with Jamie and Bea (his daughter OC you created I don’t remember her name exactly I’m so sorry) but basically it’s her like dealing with a stupid boy who reminds her father a lot of himself and he helps her understand that she’s worth the world!! She eventually finds herself an amazing guy and tells Jamie sm like “I wouldn’t let myself settle for anything less than the example you set”? Anywho I’m always here for Jamie in his dad era so if you’re inspired TY ILY YOURE AMAZING KEEP SLAYING I REREAD YOUR FICS LIKE EVERY NIGHT🫶🫶🫶

wow, two posts in one day?😱 the mission to clean out my inbox continues! this fic is a little out of my wheelhouse, but I did my best. the title is from “betty” bc teens are dumb and also great. here are the other fics in this universe:

you’re losing me

i’ll still be right next to you my dear

today’s a day like any other

lyrical smile, indigo eyes

thanks for requesting!!🩵

i don’t know anything

“It’s just for school, Jamie,” you say.

“Yeah, it’s just for school, dad,” Bea says.

You point to her from the kitchen. “Stay out of this, kid.”

She puts her hands in the air and backs away. “And hang up your bag!” you call.

Jamie hovers over your shoulder. He’s supposed to be helping with dinner, as he’s taken up cooking more since his retirement from football.

“Look,” you say as you slice vegetables, “you said nothing when Theo had a girl over last week. Why are you so fucking weird about Bea having a boy over?”

“Because- she- he- it’s different,” he sputters.

You hand him a head of lettuce with the command, “Shred.” He starts tearing it into pieces, letting it fall into a bowl.

“And how, Jamie Tartt, is that different?”

“Theo is fucking twelve. He’s a kid. Bea’s fifteen and a dead knockout. She got both our looks and your brains. Any knob’d be fucking lucky to have her.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replay. “He’s still going to be here in five minutes. And you’re going to be nice. She likes this boy, Jaim. So we’re going to be supporting and fucking grateful that she’s not sneaking around, got it?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Jamie grumbles. “This is what I get for being a prick as a kid. Bet you and Keeley think this is fuckin’ hilarious.”

The doorbell saves you from replying. Bea yells, “I’ve got it!” as she thunders down the stairs.

She appears a moment later with a boy dressed in the same school uniform as her.

“This is Isaiah,” she says. Isaiah snorts and looks away, so you put a hand on Jamie’s arm to stop him from doing anything.

“It’s nice to meet you, Isaiah. Can we get you anything? Water, a snack?”

He shrugs and says “Nah.”

There’s an awkward pause before Bea says, “Right! We’ll just be in the living room.”

They leave and Jamie turns to you. “I don’t like that kid,” he whispers. You don’t either, but you’re not going to tell him just yet. You’ll give the kid a chance because you have a weird soft spot for absolute assholes.

You squint at him for a moment then say, “You know, if we’re quiet, we can listen in.”

Jamie grabs your head with both hands and kisses you. “This. This is why I married you. Fucking brilliant.” You smile and pat his cheek.

Their voices float in the kitchen and you can’t quite catch what Bea’s saying, but it’s definitely a question. Isaiah’s response is… not exactly kind.

Jamie mouths, the fuck? and you frown. He has a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen since the days he used to brawl with Roy. You’re considering a brawl of your own.

Give him a minute, you mouth back.

You half-heartedly continue chopping while straining to hear as much as you can. It’s not good. He’s not being explicitly mean, but he sure as shit isn’t kind.

You and Jamie are so intent on trying to listen that you don’t hear Theo come in the room. “What are you doing?”

The two of you jump and swear. “Jesus feck, kid, don’t sneak up on your mum like that.”

“You’re the one who jumped the highest dad,” Theo points out. “Mum, can I have a snack?”

You say, “Sure,” and absentmindedly point to the fridge.

“Fuckin hell, did Bea eat the last of the cake?”

“Fucking hell,” echoes your youngest, Georgie. She’s seven, and like Theo’s shadow.

“Don’t say ‘fuck,’” you and admonish in unison.

“Can you be fucking quiet??” Bea whisper-growls from the doorway. “We’re trying to study.”

The four of you make your apologies as she leaves.

—

Two hours later, Isaiah’s left and Bea’s on the phone with her best mate. You can hear her saying something in a favourable tone.

“Why the fuck did you let that little prick into our house?” Jamie seethes. “Fucking tosser. He’s not good enough for her, and I don’t give a shit what you have to say about it.”

You shoot him a Look and he apologizes. “Sorry babe, it ain’t about you. I do care what you have to say. Just- I fucking hated that prick.”

“Give her a week,” you say. “If you tell her never to speak to him again, she’ll do the exact opposite, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright,” he grumbles.

—

It’s formal season. Bea’s sixteen and over the moon, talking about the boy who asked her out.

“He’ll be here any minute. Dad, you’re still driving us, yeah?”

Jamie smiles and wipes lipstick out of the corner of her mouth. “Whatever you want, love.”

Bea smiles back and fiddles with her necklace. “I hope he likes this dress,” she frets.

Jamie grabs her hand. “Oi, any kid would be fucking lucky to be in the same room as you, let alone at a formal. Isaiah better fucking behave.”

“Don’t say fuck,” Bea says automatically, then she frowns. “I’m not going with Isaiah.”

Jamie’s face twists into confusion. “Why the fuck not?”

“He’s a prick,” Theo calls from the next room, followed by, “Ow, mum, my ear!”

“He is a prick,” Bea says.

“I’m a prick,” Jamie points out.

Bea scrunches her nose. “You were a prick, Dad, like, three decades ago when you were my age. Now you’re just an old softie.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Don’t know how old you think I am, love, but you’ve got your maths all wrong.”

There doorbell rings and you call, “I’ve got it!” as Bea panics with a last-minute hair adjustment.

“Oi,” Jamie says gently, “you look beautiful, love. Just like your mum. Glad you dumped that prick.”

Bea shrugs. “I had to, dad. Couldn’t be with him when I have a dad like you.”

Bea’s date, Thomas, walks into the room all smiles. He shakes Jamie hand then shyly slides a corsage onto her wrist. He is a far cry from who Jamie was at that age. This kid doesn’t seem so sure of himself, like he’s trying very, very hard not to mess things up. He and Bea whisper about something as you sidle up to Jamie.

“We did good with that one,” you whisper in his ear. He smiles. Thank god she doesn’t have her mum’s taste in men.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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thetarttfuldickhead · 10 months

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”I talked to Southgate yesterday.”

The sun is not yet up; Jamie is dutifully stretching his legs in the cold yellow of a streetlight when Roy suddenly speaks. It’s the first thing he’s said all morning, except for gruff commands of run and ten more and fucking higher, Tartt.

“Yeah?” Switching legs to work on his other calf, Jamie tries for a casual tone, fails, and doesn’t much care. “What about?”

Roy gives him a look: the fuck do you think? There’s no heat in it, though. Rarely is these days, and that thought is a glowing ember in Jamie’s chest, equal parts joy and amazement.

For a moment, Roy doesn’t say anything else. Jamie completes his stretches and straightens. Waits, with heart hammering hard, hard beneath his hoodie.

“He got in touch two years ago,” Roy finally offers, seemingly adressing the streetlight. “Before the Euros. Asked about you, what sort of player you were.” He glances at Jamie then, face carefully blank. “I told him the truth.”

That… hurts, unexpectedly. Not because Jamie is surprised, really, or because it is unfair, because he isn’t and it’s not, but still. It stings, though not as bad as it had back then, and for different reasons.

He wants to make a joke, say something glib to chase the taste of resigned dismay and shame away: he opens his mouth; closes it again. Looks away from Roy and is grateful that the other man seems content to leave it at that rather than going into the details of just what he’d told Southgate. Fair or not, Jamie thinks he can do without hearing it. He can imagine it well enough.

Roy is studying him, like he’s expecting Jamie to protest or complain. It feels a little bit like a test, maybe. Jamie remains quiet. Fiddles with his sleeves for something to do with his hands as the silence grows longer and the morning colder around him.

And perhaps it is a test after all, because after a moment Roy nods slowly before starting to talk again. “Anyway, yesterday I called him up to let him know that those things I said two years ago weren’t true anymore, and that I didn’t want any of that to be held against you now.”

Jamie’s eyes snap to Roy’s face and he opens his mouth to speak, but Roy holds his hand up, forestalling him. “Now, I have no idea what’s going to happen so I don’t want you getting your hopes up, but I’m telling you this because if he calls I want you to be prepared, because he’ll be asking about that stupid shit you pulled, what the fuck you thought you were doing, and I need you to be on your best fucking behaviour, okay? Don’t grovel, but none of that fucking cocky bravado or defensive bullshit either. You were a prick, you understand that now, and you’ve worked fucking hard at being better. Got it?”

Jamie nods, quickly, eagerly, because yeah, yeah, he can do that. Would probably be up for a bit of grovelling too, if it increased his chances of being called up. Fuck, he’ll say whatever he has to say, spill his whole fucking heart if need be to prove that he can be the best fucking—

Suddenly, he frowns. Roy notices and raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“Should I… “ Jamie pauses, uncertain. “Should I tell him, you know, about me dad? I mean, if he asks why I left City to do a TV show, what do I say?”

Roy considers that for a bit. It occurs to Jamie that Roy probably doesn’t actually know why Jamie ran out on City the way he did; Jamie certainly never told him, and he doubts Ted did either. But he can probably guess the rough shape of it anyway.

“Gareth’s a good man,” Roy offers at long last. “You want to tell him the truth, you tell him the truth, he won’t say a word. Don’t try to use it as an excuse though.”

“I won’t,” Jamie says with a small scowl and a flash of annoyance, because when has he ever?

Maybe Roy realizes as much, because his face softens into something almost apologetic. “I’m just saying, because I don’t want any of that old stuff getting in the way of you being called up now.“ He pauses, like he’s hesitating over whether to keep on talking or not. Settles for keep on talking, apparently, because he adds, without looking at Jamie, “You deserve it.”

Three words, and enough for the ember in his chest to roar into open flame. Jamie can feel the heat of it reach his face; gentle warmth in the February chill. “Thanks, Coach.”

---

The call comes two days later. Taking it has Jamie running late for training and when he finally rushes into the dressing room Roy lays into him with enough venom to make the other players carefully back away from them. Still, Jamie can’t do a thing to quell the grin on his face.

“What the fuck are you smiling at?” Roy snaps.

“Southgate called.” He’s a little surprised to hear how dazed he sounds. Feels like he could fucking fly, but the words come out almost hushed.

Roy immediately stills. “And?”

He should savour it, perhaps, the triumph of this moment. Take a second to marvel at the sight of Roy – Roy fucking Kent – holding his breath as he waits for an answer, but he can’t, he can’t, it’s too big, to happy, too fucking good, and he can’t hold it in. “He’s calling me up.”

#was trying to rewrite my old ficlet locker room conversation II to better fit with what we got in canon #that didn't work and this happened instead #apparently i’m stupidly obsessed with how this whole thing went down #and what part roy played in both then and now #i want ALL THE VERSIONS #what little i know of this process i know from #The (in)Complete Guide to Britpicking and Finer Football Details #by scoatneyhall and belmottetower #whatever i mucked up i mucked up on my own obviously #jamie tartt #roy kent #pre 3x10 #roy & jamie #ficlet #my stuff

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chaithetics · 4 months

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yes yes yes i wanna see the barbie fic!!! i know im gonna love itttt -barbie anon

Porcelain and the Shark: Barbie Hosseinis

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

(reader has anxiety, no use of y/n, physical descriptions or other names but does have the nickname Porcelain/Porce - due to family viewing her that way not because of complexion)

Word count: 2.6K

Prompt: porce forcing stewy to take the day off to take her and the kids to see barbie… he buys the kids a new barbie toy each and buys porce some cute barbie merch… porce relates to barbie’s existential crisis…. and gets just a touch sad at the parts about mothers and their daughters… stew cheers her up by reminding her that she’s an incredible mom to the kids and she goes and sees oppenheimer with him the next day as a thank you. that’s all xo 🫶

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, wholesome fluff, existential crisis mention, some not great Roy dynamics are alluded to. Not beta read sorry!

Authors note: thank you so much for sending this through Nonnie and your patience, you're an angel! i really hope you enjoy this, please let me know what you think! There's a slight change, I actually don't think Stewy would be super into Oppenheimer for a few different reasons. I hope that's okay?! I hope you all enjoy this, I am sorry for the absence lately, enjoy and let me know what you think, I love engaging with you all via comments, reblogs, and asks! Live for them! Lots of love to all you tumblr hotties (you're all hotties) let's pretend the gif is a barbie reference lol.

********

You’re kneeling on the floor in Tillie’s room as you help your young daughter change into her outfit. It was cute but you hadn’t expected it to be so complicated to put on. Mainly because Tillie was so excited, wriggling and bouncing as she chatted, she couldn’t stay still for very long. After a couple of minutes you’d been able to finish up her outfit and kissed the top of her head as you finished putting her hair in the neat bun she’d asked for to match her new but beloved doll sitting next to her.

“Wow! You look amazing and you’re both matching! How cool!” You excitedly say to Tillie who giggles and nods.

“We’re both ready for space now!” Tillie exclaims as she grabs her astronaut Barbie doll.

“You can play with your toys now that you’re dressed, practice for space. I’m going to check on dad and Jonathan now, okay sweetie?” You place another kiss on top of her head and she nods, happily focusing on her toys again. It makes you chuckle how quickly she goes back to playing now that your interruption of dressing her is over.

You start to walk towards Jonathan’s room but pause when you hear Stewy’s voice coming from his home office, you think it’s odd that he’s in there as this was a day that he was meant to be completely offline from work and just for family. Changing the route to Jonathan’s room you walk to his office until you’re leaning against the door watching him. Stewy’s pacing back and fourth in his office as he continues his call with an earphone in. He looks at you and with a small smile before taking a sip from his morning cappuccino in a ridiculously tiny cup as he hums along to whatever is being said on the opposite end of the phone.

“Uh-huh, yeah, well yeah, we’ll just need to circle back to that later. Uh-huh, I’ve gotta go. Mmm, yeah, sure, bye.” He quickly ends the call, removing the earphone and placing it on his desk before turning to look at you as he carefully places his coffee cup down on the desk.

“You’re not in pink-” You start.

“Neither are you.” Stewy immediately quips back with a small teasing smile as he looks you up and down adoringly.

“Well no, I haven’t changed yet. I was getting the kids ready.”

“Okay, go get ready I’ll finish up whatever needs finishing up and then you can head out.” He says as he comes over giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“We head out.” You correct, emphasising the word as you’re already not a fan of the direction this was headed in.

“Honey…” Stewy says with a sigh and it’s clear that something has come up, he needs to cancel. The guilt is written all over his face like a ghost came up and tattooed it on as soon as you walked into the office.

“You promised.” You say rather bluntly. The work-life balance is important to you and after experiencing all that your childhood had to offer in terms of swinging between sheltered neglect and highly-criticised surveillance. You refuse the notion of having your children growing up without a father or experiencing the wonder and insult of what it’s like to have a father miss out on what’s meant to be memorable and special family days. You know Stewy isn’t like that, he’s just busy and he’s always there but you still can’t help but take it personally.

It almost feels like a childhood defense and you feel your lip quiver a little as you look at him, knowing he had promised this and now he was going to break the promise to you and your children.

“I know baby, but something’s come up at work and-” He continues with wide eyes, trying to diffuse the situation as he can see how upset it’s making you.

“I’m not happy about… I’m not happy about this Stew.” You admit quietly as you look down while leaning against the wall more.

“I know. I know. I’ll make it up to you and the kids, we’ll do something later on. I’ll buy them some more toys.” “You’re not becoming that father who uses money and presents to make it up to children.” You say softly.

“I won’t do that.” He chuckles and comes over to you and wraps his arms around you softly. “I love you and you’re so pretty, you know that right?” He presses a few soft kisses to your jaw and neck.

“You’ve said it before…” You whisper back, as he holds you in his arms.

“Mm… Good. I just wanted to remind you.” He whispers against your neck and you feel his breath and words tickle your neck.

“If you’re not coming, you’re the one who needs to break that news to their cute faces and you do owe them. And me.” You can’t help but sigh in his arms as you relax into him, finding comfort in his presence as you always do despite how you’re annoyed with him over this.

Stewy nods as he listens to your words, and caresses your back gently. “I’ll try…” He whispers, you know it’s less likely that he’ll actually end up working through the day and bailing on the much anticipated Hosseini family event of seeing the Barbie film with your young children.

Tillie then calls out for you and Stewy, you smile at him, squeezing his hand and walking with him, hand-in-hand into Tillie’s bedroom. Tillie jumps up when she sees her dearly loved parents walk into her bedroom and runs over with her doll. Some children had dinosaur phases, or princess phases but Tillie was one of those children who became obsessed with space as soon as her eyes could take in the moon and what it was. She had an astronaut Barbie in her hand which had become one of her most prized possessions since Stewy had recently brought it for her. It was in her hand at every playtime, bedtime, and seated next to her at each meal.

As Tillie jumps up to hug her parents, it is then that Stewy sees her outfit in full… Tillie is wearing an astronaut costume in pink. One that you’d spent a lot of time trying to find the right person to commission it and they had excelled. She was a cute little astronaut just as she wanted to be and it was perfectly in theme with the Barbie film that she was excited to see as well.

She ran over to her father and Stewy quickly picked her up, you could see his heart melting as he took in the sight of his precious daughter in her outfit, she looked adorable and Stewy loved how she was so young but already had dreams that were so out of this world.

Stewy swayed slightly while holding Matilda, he kissed the top of her head and smiled widely at her.

“Oh my God, look at you… this outfit is amazing….” Stewy said to Tillie with a smile. He pressed another kiss to her head and held her a bit tighter as he kept swaying with her. “Oh my…. Look at her! Look at her!” He said with the largest, most loving eyes to you and you couldn’t help but smile widely and nod. She was always cute and precious but this was an exceptionally cute look of Matilda’s. You also always appreciated seeing this moment between Stewy and Tillie, he was so in awe of her and she was in equal awe of her father as well. A polar opposite to what you and Shiv had known but it was what you wanted for your children, it was what every child deserved.

“How could you say no to that cutie, Stewy? You tease playfully, already seeing him mentally cave by her.

“I can’t… I can’t… I’ll make a call and then we’ll see Barbie, huh?” He says to Tillie and gives her a little nose bop which makes her giggle loudly and excitedly.

“Go change, dad Ken, not work Ken!” Tillie says with another giggle as she tries to boop her father on the nose in return. Stewy smirks and nods, kissing her forehead again as he swings her gently with a smile.

“What am I going to wear though? I need some pink, huh honey?” He asks Tillie and she smiles and nods.

“I brought you a pink turtleneck, it’s out in the room honey.” You say softly with a happy smile as you look at him, you couldn’t resist the chance to get him in theme and you always had a weak spot for Stewy in a turtleneck so this was just as much a treat for your family as it was for you. All just for different reasons.

“You’re a prize, babe. Thank you. Isn’t your mommy the best? I mean look at you and soon look at me and I’ll be just as cute huh?” Stewy kisses Tillie’s cheek and then puts her down and gives you a soft, loving, grateful kiss on the lips to say thank you for organizing that.

Stewy goes off to change and he looks so handsome in his pink turtleneck, you feel your cheeks immediately heat up as he comes back out. He kisses your cheek and whispers a sweet thank you.

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

You, Stewy and your little Hosseinis all watch Barbie, everybody dressed up in theme in pink and looking like charming Barbies, Kens, and Allens. The children are all thoroughly engaged in the film and its bright visuals, there’s plenty of humor as well that’s sneaked in to appeal to adults which gets genuine laughs from you and Stewy.

You’re not quite surprised but you struggle for a moment as you feel quite touched, sensitive and yet vulnerable throughout several scenes of the film. This concept of identity, and having an identity that is separate from the men in your life, along with one that is separate to your identities as a wife, a mother, a sister, and a daughter. You can’t help but get teary at many of these scenes and think about what something like this means for your children, especially sweet Tillie, and the relationship between mothers and daughters. You love Tillie with all of your being, is that enough you wonder? It certainly wasn’t with your parents but that wasn’t the right love and you know it’s different with your children, you don’t let the thoughts in that your parents probably felt the same at some stage in. You’re already getting teary-eyed in this film, surrounded by those dearest to you, you don’t think you can quite handle an existential crisis right now.

Stewy notices your eyes becoming glassy with tears during these scenes and he snuggles a bit closer to you, pulling you into him more to gently kiss your cheek and squeeze your shoulder and hand. He caresses your arm gently from the first scene that brings you to tears and then throughout the rest of the picture.

“Hey, you’re a great parent… They love you more than anything, I’m in awe of you. You’re such a great mom.” Stewy promises as he whispers into your ear. You smile at him and tilt your head to kiss him softly on the lips.

*******

The children loved the film and it was a great family day that didn’t end in terms of quality time right after the movie finished. The children were all now tucked in bed and you were lying in bed now and Stewy had just finished brushing his teeth and was coming to lie in bed.

“Hi.” He whispered as he laid on the bed and looked up at you.

“Hey.” You smile back at him and can’t help but feel your cheeks heats up again, you loved him in the pink turtleneck but you also loved him out of it and any tops, just as much.

“And thoughts on the film that made all the men so angry?” He asks.

“I mean, it was a bit gentle on men, huh?” You say as you tilt your head to look at him.

“Uh-huh, far too gentle. It should’ve challenged my masculinity more than it did.” He says softly as he kisses your cheek and then your jaw gently with a smirk. “Ken did kinda feel like that incel-pipeline justification, right?” He says as he pulls away and looks at your face, Stewy starts to caress your arm gently as he leans back on the pillows.

You nod and smile. “Exactly! And you picked that up!” He chuckles at that and his cheeks heat up a bit as he continues to caress your forearm. “It still had some good stuff in it, Tillie really enjoyed it, ‘Yay space!’ Is going to be a new catchphrase for a while.” You say with a smile as you gently caress his cheek in return and giggle a little at the thought. That line alone and the acknowledgement of a Barbie in space was more than enough to make the day for Tillie and seal it as a classic for her.

“Astronaut Barbie was my favorite. Tillie and I have that in common now.” He says playfully and you can’t help but chuckle some more at that.

Stewy then leans back to grab his phone to do something that his mind has just thought of, you can’t help but feel curious.

“What are you doing?” You as with a smirk.

“I’m going to get one of those ‘I’m Kenough’ hoodies delivered to Kendall’s.” He says with a smirk as he taps away at his phone. You can’t help but laugh.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, he definitely needs it.” You laugh.

“Exactly, he really does.” Stewy says playfully, he finishes up, showing you an order confirmation email and then puts his phone down and kisses you softly on the lips.

“Since you’ve seen Barbie, does that mean I have to be your date to Oppenheimer now?” You ask as you look up at him. Stewy immediately scoffs and then laughs.

“No!” He laughs.

“No?” You ask with a small chuckle.

“I’m a dad, I’ve been exposed to the magic and art of Barbie and Bluey, why would I need to see Oppenheimer? Also it’s three hours long? It’s not for children, why would I go through those three hours?” He asks.

You smile and nod as you caress his cheek. “Very good points.” You whisper.

“How boring and convoluted must a film be to be three hours long? And if I have that much time for something shouldn’t I spend it with you and our angels?” You can’t help but smile widely at that.

“Isn’t it mandatory bro viewing now? What on earth will you talk about in the office on Monday?” You ask playfully before kissing him softly on the lips.

“I won’t watch a film because of peer pressure, if I felt insecure, I’d just read the Wikipedia plot and honey, I don’t get insecure.” He says proudly right before leaning over, closer to you in order to kiss your lips. The kiss starts off soft at first but Stewy quickly deepens it, he playfully nibbles on your lip as the kiss deepens on both your ends and Stewy steals a moan from your lips as you run your hands through his hair.

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albatmobile · 1 month

Text

Cardinal Sins Chapter 3

𓅪 Living with your vigilante boyfriends for the past year has been amazing, well, almost. Butting heads, old wounds resurfacing and a deadly threat still looming overhead could threaten the sanctity of everything you've ever fought for. Will you finally overcome your tainted past and survive the trials and tribulations, or will your relationships and your faith crumble under the pressure?

Rated: E | 15k | Contains: popsicle smut, revelations and a takedown fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist] Previous in Series: Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds

Chapter 3: Ice Cream

“Lian,” Roy looks up, mopping the sweat from his freckled forehead, “I need your help putting together your dollhouse. Where do you keep wandering off to?” He stops talking as soon as he catches sight of what’s in her hand, “Where did you get that?”

The 'that' refers to the melting blue popsicle you just gave her.

“What?” You meet his unimpressed stare with one of your own.

It’s hot as fuck outside.

Even under the covered part of your balcony with fans running, it’s almost unbearable. This, however, doesn’t stop Jason and Roy from insisting on putting together a dollhouse the size of you outside on it.

“Why did you give Lian a popsicle if you know she’s supposed to help daddies put this together?”

“Because I wanted a popsicle,” You suck on your own popsicle as if it’s obvious, “and I knew if I got one she would want one, so…”

“Baby, I want a popsicle,” Roy complains from beside Jason. He pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe at the cascading sweat on his forehead before giving up and throwing it off his body altogether.

You bite your lip, getting lost in the dips of his dripping, chiseled chest.

He, being the asshole he is, hands Jason the screwdriver

“You two fucks are good for nothing,” Jason teases. You snatch your popsicle from Roy’s exaggerated lunges your way with a bubbly laugh. “What’s the point of dating two people if I’m the only one ever doing the heavy lifting work.”

“Roy and I are like your trophy wives, daddy,” Roy nods enthusiastically from beside you before chomping off half of the treat in your hand. “ROY!”

“DAD!” Lian echoes your yell.

At this point, Lian has more puddle than popsicle.

Roy sees this and uses it as an excuse to eat the melting blue goop before it hits the stone tile.

“So stinkin’ cute,” You can’t help but coo.

“You sound just like him,” Jason teases, looking up at you through his dark lashes.

You blush brighter than the red popsicle in your hand, “Shut up.”

He smirks, briefly glancing down at the screw before looking back up at you, “Give me a bite.”

Your heart flutters.

Even though you’ve been dating over a year at this point, he still manages to stir butterflies in your stomach. Without hesitation, you bend down, bringing the sweet cold against his silky lips. The red liquid trickles slowly down to his defined jawline until it dribbles down onto his jugular.

You slowly settle in his lap with your legs stretched across his thick thighs.

His eyes flash dangerously.

You take the melting stick and press it against his lips again. This time, he lewdly slurps at it, drawing attention from Roy who’d just finished off Lian’s popsicle.

“Go wash your hands, etai yazi,” Roy distractedly ushers Lian inside, shutting the balcony door behind her. He’s too busy staring at you on top of Jason to care that she’s dripping blue all across the hardwood.

As soon as she’s out of sight, Roy bolts over hungrily.

Your tongue juts out, lightly tracing along the sweet red river stretched out along his neck and Adam’s apple. You flick at his jugular with the tip of your tongue, watching as it bobs up and down before gently sucking it into your mouth.

He releases the prettiest moan.

The screwdriver falls to the tile with a clatter, but you and Jason are far too wrapped up in each other to notice his closeness.

It’s as if a floodgate has broken. Neither of you willing to break apart.

All of your arguments have put distance between you that seems to dissipate with every hungry clash of your mouths together.

Roy cuts in, sucking Jason’s tongue into his mouth lewdly for your entertainment. Their sinful green eyes peer at you, half-lidded, as they consume each other with slick, wet noises.

They break apart to scatter teasing bites and hickeys all along your shoulders and neck.

All of a sudden, you hear Lian’s tiny footsteps. Curiously, they seem to be scampering in the opposite direction.

You glance up to see her running with one of the Twinkie’s from Roy’s sweets stash, only to disappear into her room moments later. You figure it’ll at least give you a few minutes of peace out here.

“I love it when you guys get along,” Roy pants once Jason allows him to come up for breath. His eyes are blown wide with his pupils encompassing the majority of his verdant, lucid gaze. “And in public too, nonetheless.”

You blush at the reminder, though it doesn’t stop you from removing your top and pushing Jason’s closest hand into your panties. You instantly buck into his calloused teasing, rolling your hips as your arms collapse around his neck.

He expertly trails along your folds, parting them while hardly offering you relief.

Your hips roll helplessly against his onslaught, gasping when the pad of his finger briefly catches on your clit.

“You want to piss off the neighbors, babe?”

You groan pathetically, “I don’t give a fuck as long as you keep touching me.”

He does.

His rough fingers trickle down to your entrance, teasing you only briefly before slowly sinking his index finger into you. Meanwhile, Roy takes a brief look around before pulling down his pants and slinking down to the ground beside both of you. He grips his cock in his hand loosely, watching as Jason’s hand retreats in and out of your squelching heat. You bite your lip as you watch his stroke steadily becomes more desperate as Jason’s pace increases.

You take Roy’s girthy member into your free hand and offer sporadic, desperate yanks as Jason stealthily adds in another thick finger.

The pleasure becomes damn near unbearable as his fingers work in tandem, curling and uncurling against your g-spot. At some point, you get lost in the throws of your pleasure, leaving Jason to pick up where you’d left off on Roy’s cock.

He teases you slightly, stalling his movements to spit on Roy’s red-tipped cock. You watch as his saccharine saliva drizzles down Roy’s tantalizing length.

You can’t help it. You need it in your mouth.

You unfurl your tongue, welcoming Roy’s hefty weight against it as you gag against his fiery base. Jason runs a gentle hand through your locks before tugging your attention back to him, enveloping your plump lips with his own. As soon as he releases you, your mouth is back on Roy’s length.

This is how the three of you continue until Roy’s orgasm interrupts your lewd makeout session with Jason.

Your expecting tongues and Jason’s fluttery dark lashes are now drizzled in Roy’s sticky want. It’s enough to have you twitching and grinding mindlessly against Jason’s rough fingers until you still suddenly and release. He removes his fingers from your still-pulsating cunt, revealing a slick trail on them as he does so.

You gasp when he shoves your want right down your throat. Your eyes cross briefly as you take his large, syrupy fingers into your small mouth, sucking the sweetness of your orgasm as you meet his dazed eyes.

You know just how to thank him.

“Baby,” You slink from Jason’s lap to position yourself lower, “Let us suck you off.”

Jason looks over at a beet-red Roy, whose spent dick twitches hungrily in response to your salaciousness.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Roy beams eagerly, moving to help you remove Jason’s shorts.

You share so nicely for Jason, taking turns tempting him to go over the edge.

Your tongue lewdly traverses Jason’s length, stopping briefly to tangle with Roy’s from the other side of Jason’s cock before diving back in.

The three of you know you don’t have much time before Lian becomes bored and comes back out. Because of this, the time usually spent teasing and edging is spent in a race to see what will make the other come undone first.

You utilize all the tricks they’ve both taught you in an endless barrage that leaves Jason grunting and tugging at your and Roy’s hair.

“Shit!”

“You already about to come, Jay?” Roy teases around swollen lips.

“You’re one to talk, Harper.” Roy doesn’t bother with a retort. Instead, he flicks his tongue in a way he knows Jason can’t resist.

Together, you and Roy make quick work of his leaking cock, taking turns devouring his length until he can’t hold himself back any longer.

“Mm,” You take his load, though you don’t swallow it. You spit Jason’s come out onto his twitching length and force Roy’s head down on the mess to clean it up.

He slurps gently at Jason’s sensitive member, collecting as much of the stickiness as he can before drawing you in for a kiss to take the rest.

“Fuck,” Jason groans, pulling each of you in for a toe-curling kiss. “I needed that.”

“I better go grab some towels,” Roy says, getting to his feet. He throws you your shirt as he messes with the heavy balcony door, “and go see what else Lian stole from the sugar drawer.”

•••

“My boy!” Ollie roughly pats the shit out of Roy’s back.

Dinah, with Connor clinging to her hip, welcomes each of your family members in with big bear hugs.

You look around at their growing little family and can’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach as you look at your own. You don’t even notice your sentimental gaze toward Lian until Dinah mentions it.

“You okay?” She asks, though it seems like she already knows the response.

You’d waited for so long to be a part of Jason and Roy’s life and now that it’s finally here, you sometimes stop and catch yourself taking it in.

“Yeah, good,” You clear your throat anxiously under her knowing gaze. She lets you stew in your thoughts a bit until you unwittingly blurt out, “So, how has it been?”

Dinah shoots you a knowing smirk but plays coy anyway, “How’s what been, love?”

You know there’d be no point in faking ignorance with her.

“You know,” You smile awkwardly, “your family and all that?”

She laughs easily, sounding almost too perfect, “It’s been good. Not a lot of sleep, but we’re both used to it after years on the job.” She pauses a moment, staring at Lian then at you, “Are you sure that’s all you were wanting to know?” She gives you another look that has you revealing all your cards.

A family of your own.

The butterflies come back tenfold.

“Being a parent to a newborn seems intense,” You motion to where Connor and Lian are messing around with his toys. Right now, Lian’s attempting to teach him which shapes go in which hole.

“Ah,” She finally looks pleased with your response, “See, being a parent is just another phase in life. It’s an important decision, though. One that shouldn’t be taken lightly,” She sounds resolute, “but you already know that? Don’t you.”

You blush down at a beaming Lian.

When you realized that Jason and Roy were completely open to you being in their life, you knew you had to be there for Lian too. You’ve already made the decision, it seems, without necessarily fully realizing it. It’s daunting to you to be considered a parent when you’ve never considered yourself to have any. You know, aside from Bruce.

Thinking back to your own parents, you realize that, yes, they’d been your age at some point, grew up at some point. That being said, it didn’t seem like they’d put as careful consideration into raising you as you’re determined to with Lian. No, they’d only raised you for a check.

Lian…

Jason and Roy have assured you numerous times that she thinks of you as her mom. The word alone makes you slightly uncomfortable with the realization you now have the ability to fuck her up mentally just like your parents have done to you.

How is this the first time you’re realizing this?

You begin to inwardly panic, hoping you’re hiding it well, but your wide, doe-ish eyes reveal it all.

She places a gentle hand on your bicep as if hearing your thoughts as they loudly clash in your brain. Fucking therapists, always therapist-ing.

You sigh, “How do you know you won’t fuck it all up? That you won’t fuck them up?”

She nods as if thinking of the answer. When it comes to her, you’re definitely not ready for what she says.

“You can’t not fuck them up,” She shrugs, looking at her babbling son. “That’s just what being a parent is. As long as you do your very best to do right by them, that’s what counts. Being a parent is a thankless job. All you can do is try to set them up for success; give them a life that’s better than yours. If you do that, you can’t fuck them up too bad, I’d say.”

You nod, pretending like it all makes sense, but you really have no clue.

“The hell are you two on about over there in the corner?” Ollie’s loud voice booms, effectively startling you three feet into the air.

Roy quickly hushes him with a warning glare, “Lian’s in her repeating phase, grandpa.”

“Yeah, grandpa,” Lian mimics her dad.

Roy raises a brow at his dad as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

Ollie raises his hands up in faux-surrender, “Sorry, kid. The other kid over there’s just a bit over two, so cursing isn’t really on our minds so much as choking hazards.”

Lian and Connor have been getting on like a house on fire. She’s eager to teach him and read to him, helping him stand and playing peek-a-boo with him until he giggles himself into a fit. You don’t realize you’ve been staring so long until you feel Roy’s familiar verdant gaze fall on you. Before he can make some smart ass remark that’ll make you blue-ball him for the rest of the night, Lian chirps up.

“Dad,” Lian shouts over her shoulder. Connor stumbles a little bit, leaving Lian to immediately turn around to support him as he attempts to wobble around. “Can we get a baby?”

Roy sputters while Jason pointedly avoids Ollie’s shit-eating grin.

“Any advice on how to take this one, Ollie?”

“How the fuck should I know?” He looks thoroughly amused.

“Because you’re Roy’s dad?” You chime in with your confusion palpable.

“Darlin’, this is my first time parenting a kid so young,” Ollie snorts. “When I found this kid over here, he was already downloading porn to the cave’s systems-”

“The Quiver,” Roy corrects him.

“Oh, damn,” Ollie seems to think on it for a moment. “Yeah, that does work a lot better,” He seems like he’s going to say something else, then stops. “Shit, have you been calling it The Quiver this whole time?” Roy merely rolls his eyes in response. “No, no. That’s good. That’s good,” He nods to himself before turning toward Dinah. “Were you calling it The Quiver?”

“Love,” She sighs tiredly, “it’s not cavernous in the slightest.”

Ollie stops rubbing pensively at his goatee, “Damn.”

“Damn,” Lian repeats quietly.

Dinah shoots Ollie a loathing look, one Roy matches easily.

“I told you she’s in her repeating phase,” He hisses, covering her ears from any further debauchery from Ollie’s mouth.

“How the fu-,” He catches himself, shooting a playful index finger in Roy’s direction, then Dinah’s, “Caught myself, see? I can parent.” Dinah, however, doesn’t look impressed. “Maybe I’m not the best with cursing,” He admits. “And honestly, parenting is still new to me.”

“Tell me about it,” Roy mutters under his breath as he busies himself with fixing Lian’s braids.

“Listen,” Ollie starts cautiously, “that first time I saw you on the reservation, kid, you were mourning the death of your second father.”

“Brave Bow,” Roy offers to no one in particular.

A quick glance Jason’s way reveals nothing about the events unfolding.

Does he already know this, or is he hearing this for the first time too?

“I guess I just didn’t know how to be that,” He searches for the word, “Parent or, I don’t know, role model for you. Tried my damn-darndest, though. I’ll tell you that much.” Ollie sees you looking inquisitively Roy’s way and quickly adds, “S’not my business to say much beyond that, though,” He trails off awkwardly, watching as Roy continues to stare at the carpet.

Luckily, Roy fills in the blanks for you.

“He took me in and offered me a life I never could’ve had on the reservation. How can I be mad at him for that?” His tone seems to contradict his prior statement, however.

“That doesn’t invalidate any negative feelings you have, though,” You offer awkwardly in the tense atmosphere that’s quickly overtaking the room.

You’ve seen Bat Family drama, but never Harper/Queen/Lance beyond the night of the college party.

“Shit,” Roy sighs with a weak smile, “I thought being an adult meant feelings were supposed to get easier.”

“Definitely not,” You say at the same time Jason answers, “Fuck no.”

“All this being said, Jason wasn’t my only intervention,” He says it so simply, but the grim look on Ollie’s face says everything you need to know. He’s hit a nerve.

Dinah moves to pick up Connor from the floor to quiet his upset noises, “You know we tried our best to allow you to be yourself and have fun, but when it became clear it went deeper, we thought it best to intervene.”

“By tearing me away from Star City in my senior year? Y’know, the place I grew up in,” Roy nods sarcastically, “Where all my friends were? Yeah, no totally makes sense to remove me from my only fucking support system since the reservation.”

“We seem to remember this differently,” Dinah responds cooly.

“Bet we do,” Roy smiles humorlessly. It’s quiet as the heavy words sink down. Roy’s not quite finished though, “You ripped me away from everything I’ve ever known just so at least I’d be under the Bat’s watchful eye, right? Because you both couldn’t stand the thought of having a fucking drug addict for an orphan, right? You wanted me to be like Dick, perfect, quiet, sober, so you made Bruce my fucking watchdog over at Gotham Academy. Isn’t that right? Thought he’d knock some sense into me? What kind of delusional ass motherfuckers are you?”

Lian looks up from the ground at her dad, obviously never having seen him so upset. You look at Jason, hoping for some sign of what to do, but he looks just as conflicted.

“Star City was where you were using, Roy!” Dinah interjects suddenly, “For fuck’s sake, we didn’t want you to have to pass by the streets you bought from on your way to school, Roy.”

“We didn’t know what we were doing,” Ollie admits cautiously, “but we did it with our hearts in the right place.” Dinah looks at you now as your earlier conversation comes to fruition with Ollie’s words.

“I’m not doing this in front of my kid anymore,” Roy scrunches up his face in irritation before easing it away with his fingers.

“We love you, son,” Ollie looks sincere and full of regret. Roy’s hand stills between his brows. “All I’ve ever wanted was to do right by you, Roy. I wanted to be your Brave Bow, wanted to be your real father and I wasn’t any of those. Hell, I wasn’t even a good Ollie to you. I see that now,” He walks over to Roy and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t right of me to take you in when I wasn’t ready to be a parent, kid, but it doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

Roy lifts his head up, meeting Ollie head-on, “I love you both. Even after the bullshi-”

“We should’ve handled it differently,” Ollie nods rapidly, “very differently. I didn’t know how to handle the situation and, for that, I’m so sorry, Roy. We just wanted to get you out of the place that was eating you alive so you could start over new. Bruce and Dick had absolutely nothing to do with it. We genuinely just thought we were doing what was best for you,” He looks over his shoulder to where Dinah’s slowly bouncing Connor in her arms, “but we now realize we were wrong.” Ollie’s tearing up now and you can’t help but feel your throat tighten in response. “My beautiful boy, we were wrong.”

Roy’s voice is thick with tears as he finally faces his father, “That’s all I’ve ever wanted: an apology. To hear that you love me regardless of all the messed up shit I did. That’s all.”

“I love you, my boy,” Ollie holds him at arms length, looking over Roy’s bashful form with pride before pulling him in for a bone crushing hug, “Always.”

“Always,” Roy nods into his chest. He quickly wipes away any stray tears as they pull apart, brushing off imaginary dust on the front of his shirt as he clears his throat. “So, uh, you made your famous chili?”

The edge of the room quickly dissipates, almost as if it’d never happened. It’s a complete 180 from the throw-downs and grudge matches the Waynes are infamous for.

You look at Jason and swear he’s got to be thinking the same thing.

“Think the spitfire can handle it?” Ollie winks your way as he ushers everyone into the kitchen.

You raise a questioning brow. What kind of chili denoted ‘handling’ of any sort?

“She’ll be fine. Right, baby?”

Oliver lifts the lid on a bean-ridden concoction that sends a singeing scent through the air. Your eyes unwittingly water as the spicy smell assaults your nostrils.

“Right,” You answer unconvincingly through the tears welling in your eyes.

How the fuck is Lian supposed to eat this shit?

No, better question; how are you going to eat this shit?

You don’t have to wonder long because Ollie and Roy are fighting over the spoon that, ultimately, ends up shoved in your mouth.

You wince, feeling the heat immediately and it’s…

Holy shit, it’s fucking amazing.

Ollie must see your eyes light up because he smirks at his wife, “Told ya the chili’s good, pretty bird.”

She just rolls her eyes, “The taste is fine. It’s what happens after that’s a travesty.”

Ollie howls, slapping Dinah on the back as he doubles over, “Oh, she’s right, though, you know?” He wipes away a stray mirthful tear, “How many bathrooms did Bruce set you up with?”

“Three,” Jason says as he helps you and Roy set the table.

“Well, then,” Ollie beams as he dumps the steaming pot of chili in the center of the table, “dig in!”

•••

Joker.

He’s here.

Well, more accurately, you’re Joker.

Closely peering down into the pool of water below you, you see his maniacal face as if it’s your own.

There are more shapes in the reflection, though they remain as murky as the filth that stirs in the water surrounding you.

You know you’re dreaming, but, fuck, the images are so strong that it feels real…

You can practically taste the dank, mildewy stench that liters your nostrils. The ground beneath your feet feels sturdy, pressurized as if it’s your own feet pressing into the concrete below.

You wake up to Roy snoring in your ear, clutching your bare tit like it’s a lifeline. He’s hardly noticed your hard panting and, if anything, it only spurs his snoring on even more.

Jason, on the other hand, stirs in the intimate dawn light.

His arms slowly trails up and down your stomach as he blearily blinks awake.

“Ollie’s chili wake you up, babe?” Jason yawns lightly. “Or was it this fucking asshole’s sleep apnea?” You want to laugh, really, you do but your heart refuses to calm. He shifts onto his forearm, now more alert as he checks you over. Your name is a quiet whisper in the morning quiet of your bedroom, “What’s wrong?”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

It feels different from the panic attacks you’ve had in the past.

It’s like you’re frozen.

Your body is still under the influence of your horrifying dream and you can’t wake it.

“Roy,” Jason’s deep voice reverberates lowly in your room. Jason reaches across you to shake Roy awake. You want to stop him. You want to tell him you’re fine, but you can’t. “Roy, wake up.”

Roy awakens with a loud snort, blinking his eyes in the bright light that leaks through the curtains, “Wha?”

Move.

Please, just fucking move. You beg your body, pleading with all your might that you’ll be able to move before Roy truly wakes up and gets concerned.

You’re fine.

Everything’s fine.

“She won’t move,” Jason’s tone is gentle, but worried as he and Roy talk over your tense body.

“Panic attack?” Roy’s sleep-ridden voice slowly slips away as concern takes over.

“Dunno. I just woke up,” You feel Jason’s shrug more than you see it. “Can you help me elevate her?”

Hearing them talk about you like you’re not here only serves to freak you out further.

Roy’s hands gently join Jason’s as they shift your head to slide a pillow underneath.

You’re good.

Everything’s good.

Why can’t they see that?

No.

Why can’t you show them?

“Focus on your movement on your fingertips, baby,” Roy’s sidled up beside you to coo in your ear. “Then your knuckles, then your palms, then your wrists.”

You feel him look up, most likely at Jason for what to do next.

“Imagine Roy trying to cook scones with Alfred,” He sounds like he’s not too sure of what he’s saying, but it’s out in the open now.

“Sure,” Roy snorts lightly, “scones with Alfred at the manor. There’d be so much flour everywhere,” He’s taken to petting your hair now. “You and Jay would make fun of me and Alfred’d definitely make me mop after. I’d be cursing the whole time to the point I’d have to take out a loan to pay off my swear jar indictments.”

Jason slowly begins drawing tiny circles on your hip bone.

You blink.

“That’s it, babe,” Jason’s soft voice caresses your being until it’s all you can focus on. “Come back to us.”

It’s as if you break the surface of water, coming up for air and gulping it down like it’ll somehow disappear.

“Control you breathing,” Roy gently places your hand on his chest to demonstrate a deep breathing technique. “Good girl.”

Every moment coming back down from your nightmare is agonizing hell.

Put aside the embarrassment, you realize you’re now going to have to reveal everything.

It’s so fucking embarrassing to have to look your lovers in the eyes and say, “Hey, Joker’s been in my head again. I want to die, but it’ll be alright!”

Well, not exactly to that effect, but still, you get the gist.

“Sorry,” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. They both dote over you, telling you not to worry and asking if you’re alright, but you can hardly focus. All you can see is his face. “Just keep having these, like, nightmares or something. I’m really fine, though.”

They seem entirely unconvinced.

“You can talk to us.” Surprisingly it’s Jason who speaks first. He takes your hands within his big, calloused ones, “Please talk to us.”

You stare down at your joined hands, then up into his emerald eyes, then over at Roy’s tired frown.

“Okay,” You nod slowly. How do you even explain this? “He’s, uh, been in my head.”

That’s a good start, you sarcastically think to yourself.

“Joker?” Roy asks, though he and Jason both seem to already know the answer.

Both of them are sitting beside you in the mess of cotton and pillows, waiting for your response.

“Yeah,” You respond dejectedly. You clutch at your duvet, bunching it up in your fists as you willingly allow the horrors to crawl back into your brain.

“How long?” Jason growls.

“Huh?” You look up, meeting his fury head-on.

Why is he so upset?

“How long have you been keeping this from us?” His emerald ire sears deep into your soul.

“Jay,” Roy scoots over on the bed from behind you to place a calming hand on Jason’s bare thigh, “please. Not right now. It doesn’t need to get like that.”

He’s treading carefully, but Joker’s always been a sore spot between you and Jason. Especially ever since he was sidelined by Bruce from saving you at the Wayne Gala your freshman year.

“She was doing this same shit at the manor, Roy. I’ve been biting my tongue for long enough.” His head whips your way now, “Do you trust us?”

You quirk a tired brow, “Is that really a question?”

You trust them enough to bare your body to them.

You trust them enough to love them.

Hell, you trust them enough to fight side by side with them.

But to reveal your fears?

You sigh.

��Yes,” He glares, pushing the issue once again.

“With my life, apparently.”

He laughs humorlessly, crossing his arms and looking to the side, “Is that enough?”

You can’t do this right now.

“I don’t know. Is it?” You snark back. “You know, this seems like a really roundabout way of getting me to open up, Jason.”

“For fuck’s sake! There shouldn’t have to be any sort of way!” He exclaims before quieting down. It’s still early in the morning, but Lian would be up soon. “You should just feel like you can come and talk to us about things that are hurting you.”

“I’m not hurt!” You don’t know if you’re saying it to convince them or yourself, but no one seems convinced.

You turn your gaze back to the crumpled blanket in your clutches.

“Baby,” Roy starts rubbing your leg, too, eyes going between you and Jason cautiously, “just talk to us. We were both really scared just now seeing you like that.” You peer up into his verdant sincerity, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” His gruff voice startles your eyes to meet his gaze.

You look away first.

“Jason,” Roy groans, “please.”

“She knows I’m just upset because it’s him,” He looks at the side of your face as if gauging if you do or not.

The thing is, you do.

But damn, you’re not up for this back and forth right now.

Your stiff body still hums with adrenaline, trembling all the way through to your unsteady fingertips.

“Just take a deep breath, baby,” Roy kisses lightly at your shoulder while shooting Jason a warning look.

The shaking lessens and you reach over to take each of their hands within your own. You rub anxiously at the skin of their hands as you think of how best to explain the situation.

“Ever since the dockyard, I keep seeing him in my head. I don’t know if they’re continuations of my nightmares or what,” Your hair scatters across your shoulders as you shake your head. “And, I don’t know why, but every time it’s like I’m, like… him,” You stop rubbing, “I see the things that he sees.”

You don’t look up to see their faces, knowing you sound fucking insane.

“What kind of things?” Jason asks.

You look up warily into his hardened emerald eyes, “At the manor, I saw the stem.” Jason and Roy share an evaluating glance. “That and Joker escaping with,” You remove your hands from theirs as you try to think of the words, “like this hoard of just blurry figures.”

Their faces are grim. You’re just glad they’re actually taking you seriously.

It’s taken you far too long to come clean and it instantly feels like a portion of the weight has been lifted from your chest.

“What did you see just now?”

You clear your throat uncomfortably as the dream comes back to you.

“Water,” You say.

“Water,” Roy repeats dubiously.

“It was murky,” You supply with a lame shrug.

“Murky water in Gotham,” Jason’s low morning voice rumbles lowly in the stillness of the room. “That really narrows it down.”

“I know it comes naturally to you,” You briefly look up at his unconvinced face before taking refuge in fiddling with the duvet again, “but you don’t always have to be such a dick,” You chide.

Cue the ever-present sarcasm.

“Gee, I’ll keep that in mind.”

There it is.

“It’s 5 in the fucking morning, loves,” Roy groans, tiredly falling backward to the mattress below. He seems just about as done with the direction of the conversation as you are. “Don’t you guys have a fucking ‘off’ button?” He pauses briefly before raising a fiery, interested brow, “Makeup sex?”

“Roy!” You and Jason both smack him on his sides.

“What?!” He runs a tired hand down his face as if it’ll somehow wake him up more. “So much fucking tension, you’d think the two of you’d be ready to bang at a moments notice,” He raises an interested brow again as if somehow either of you will suddenly now be more into the idea. “So,” He trails off, “that’s a no on the makeup sex?”

“There’s nothing to make up!” Jason insists. “She kept shit from us, I got mad, she opened up. We’re good.”

Regardless of his words, he appears to anxiously await your response, mimicking your fidgeting with the blanket.

If you two hadn’t been moments from ripping each other’s throats out, Roy might just think the two of you looked cute. You’re both clearly worried about what the other thinks, but neither knows how to bring it up without butting heads.

“We’re good,” You agree.

“Cool,” He tries with a faux confidence you see directly through.

“Cool,” You finish.

You make to kiss him but, ultimately, hesitate.

Roy notices and won’t allow it, “Jay,” He nods his head in your direction.

He gets the idea but hesitates as well.

Your chemistry is palpable. It’s thick in the air between you in a way that makes you want to push back and flee at the same time. It’s affronting and repelling, similar to two like magnet-poles facing each other.

He pushes through, regardless.

Jason swallows heavily, “Can I kiss you?”

You meet him halfway.

You smile, “Always.”

•••

At the last minute, Stephanie joins in on your reconnaissance mission. With two ex-Cadmus escapees, your team needs all the mental support it can get.

Arsenal’s stretching beside you as you wait outside the perimeter in the trees. He doesn’t seem particularly off, he hides it well enough, but you see the hidden tenseness that lies beneath each movement he makes and every word he holds.

It’s pitch black aside from the emanating lights from the large, cinderblock facility. It’s a normal looking building, ugly if anything, which makes it somehow seem scarier. The place could easily blend in with the normal office building’s downtown, though what goes on inside definitely doesn’t scream normal.

You, Red Hood and Arsenal trekked up one side of the mountain while Superboy, Red Robin and Spoiler took the other. You reconvened in a small coverage of forest before you attempted to breach the research center.

“How are you feeling?” Spoiler cautiously eyes Superboy from the corner of her mask.

Red Robin seems like he wanted to ask the same, shifting anxiously from beside the blonde.

“Definitely not great to be back,” He sighs deeply, sparring Arsenal a quick sympathetic glance, “but someone’s gotta show you fucks around.”

“Wouldn’t Roy,” Everyone’s heads immediately shoot in your direction at the slip-up, “I mean, Arsenal,” You correct yourself, “know the way around?”

Red Hood shifts from behind you, causing you to glance back at him to avoid Arsenal’s distant stare. He’s looking forward towards the lab, but his eyes are somewhere else entirely.

You know the feeling.

You don’t have to see through Jason’s helmet to know he’s thinking the same.

“He was knocked out for most of the escape,” Red Hood supplies finally.

“Hood’d be more help,” Arsenal shrugs too casually for the heaviness of the moment. “S’not like they let me out of the tube to go on walks.”

It’s tense.

Everyone goes back to their pre-mission tasks quietly.

“The place sticks with you, though,” Superboy says. “The smell, the lights,” Arsenal’s nauseated look seems to confirm this. Regardless of how hard he tries to hide how much this affects him, Superboy’s words seem to be the final nail in the coffin. “Never knew their names, but I remember the faces of the scientists and Genomorphs clear as day.”

The scientists and the what now???

“Yeah,” Comes Arsenal’s rough response. That’s all he says, making it clear that the subject is over.

Red Robin looks to Spoiler, who looks to Superboy, noting how lost in thought he appears to be. It’s clear he wants to comfort Arsenal, but if the archer isn’t willing, it’s obvious Superboy isn’t going to push. However, the blonde and raven next to him seem more concerned with his reaction than Arsenal’s.

It’s really cute how close the three of them have gotten. Feels like just yesterday you were keeping up with Tim and Stephanie’s relationship via Damian’s gossip. Not to mention your first time meeting Konnor at the college party where you’d first kissed Roy. Though, you still find it hard to believe that Tim and Konnor managed to become friends despite the fact that they were fighting over the same girl. You think back to your odd yet similar predicament. Okay, maybe not that hard to believe, but still.

Aside from a few rustles and light whispers from your crew, it’s dead silent as you wait for the guards to change shifts. When the time finally comes, you set to work on your burner laptop.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard at the same time your group closes in on the guard station at the back entry.

“I just hacked their security systems,” You whisper, proudly turning your screen around to show them.

It only took a few moments, even Arsenal seems impressed by your Flash-like speed.

From below, you hear one of the main security details scream out, “Some dude just hacked our security systems!”

You turn around to face the crew with a deadpan expression.

Spoiler snorts, “Sexist ass, scientist motherfuckers.”

Arsenal lets loose a light laugh, but you know it’s taking everything within him to just remain mentally present. You shoot him a sympathetic smile you’re sure only Red Hood sees.

With the security cameras playing yesterday’s footage, Spoiler and Red Robin tag team a group of guards before they can reach for their radios.

“We only have five minutes before they’ll be walkie-ing down for a check-in,” Spoiler brushes imaginary dust off of her purple suit. “We need to get a move on.”

Superboy nods, seeming to pick up on incoming noises as he quickly ushers the group into a dark corner. Your back presses against the cold exterior wall as two stray guards goof around on their way to the front station where the other guards lay knocked out and tied up.

Not good.

Red Robin wastes no time in producing two marble-sized orbs from his utility belt and throwing them in their direction. Light blue smoke filters into the night and Red Robin warns everyone to cover their mouths and noses. You watch as the first guard slowly kneels, then the second before they’re both passed out on the ground.

Arsenal quickly grabs both their lab cards as Spoiler and you drag their bodies into the shadows you’d just sought refuge in.

“We’ll need to split up,” Red Hood’s robotic voice warbles. He doesn’t need to dole out teams for everyone to know who’s going with who, but you all need to know where you’re going. “My team takes the North part of the facility, your team South. We need to find that stem and anything else that could help with figuring out the serum’s chemical composition.”

Everyone nods, steeling yourselves for possible conflict as Arsenal uses one of the keycards to gain entrance.

“You’ll probably need this,” Arsenal hands Red Robin the other lab keycard.

It’s quiet.

The sickening fluorescent lights grant no secrecy as you wander further into the maze of hallways.

There’s one hallway that’s completely blocked off, so that’s the one you decide to go down. You duck under the caution tape and carefully traverse around the random building supplies that create an obstacle course.

A heavy metal door blocked off by steel beams is at the end of the hall. The keycard looks busted, but there’s a makeshift lock strung through the double door’s handles. Arsenal picks the lock in under a minute.

All of you are on high alert after the lack of, well, anyone in the area.

What lies beyond the vault door is a large elevator.

The three of you look at each other briefly before climbing inside. Red Hood picks the lowest floor, Sublevel 53 and steadies you as the sonic speed of the elevator shoots downward at a stomach-twisting speed.

“Anyone else concerned by the lack of guards?”

Neither have to say anything, the grim look on Arsenal’s face says it all.

You arrive in a white, sanitation quarantine room and quickly push through to the next room. It ends up being a wide open, empty lab, though it appears well lived-in. Post-it notes are scattered across the various papers and stray beakers have been left in the sink. Further inspection shows lab coats strewn haphazardly across the fancy rollie-chairs as if someone had just left for a 10 minute break. It sets your nerves on edge.

You push past the chairs, absentmindedly thumbing through some papers as you go along, but you ultimately head toward the giant wall-length computer set up against the furthest wall.

Arsenal and Red Hood do a thorough sweep of the floor while you plug into the mainframe. The system is difficult, one of the hardest ones you’ve ever had to crack, but you know you’ll be able to. The long tips of your costumed-nails clack dutifully against each key, sounding similar to a gangster shooting off a Tommy gun.

“We’re in a lab,” Hood’s voice crackles into your comm system. Arsenal sidles up to you, crossing his arms across his chest as he leans against the large desk to watch you work. “What’s your position?”

There’s a beat of silence that’s occupied only by your hands flying across the keyboard before Spoiler responds, “In some sort of underground greenhouse.”

“What floor?”

“Sublevel 35.”

The inverse of the floor you’re on now. That could be a good sign.

A static sets across your earpiece before Red Robin’s fuzzy voice breaks in and out, “W- found… stem.”

“You found the stem?” Arsenal tries to make sense of the message, but the connection is steadily getting worse. “Five minutes, meet at the rendezvous point,” He repeats himself a few more times before the comm system cuts out completely.

“Guys,” You call them over, “I think I found what we came here for.”

Arsenal turns around to better face the screen while Red Hood slowly walks over, trying to make sense of the files in front of him as he does.

“Poison Ivy mentioned them using a protein,” You motion at the screen labeled ‘Plant Protein JK-2.’ “Looks like they’re trying to find a way to make it water soluble or something,” Your eyes rapidly scan across the numerous files, widening with each new twist and turn Cadmus’ information takes you on. “That can’t be right,” You shake your head, scanning over the last document just to be sure of what you’re seeing. “It seems like they’re also hoping the protein can work in conjunction with,” You trail off in confusion, “with a disperser of sorts?”

“A microwave emitter,” Red Hood puts his hands on either side of you, leaning over your smaller body to get a closer look, “for something called Clean Energy, LLC.”

That name. You remember clearly seeing it on the vaulted door back when you toured with Luke and Jon, but… Why would Cadmus have equipment from Wayne Enterprise?

Before you can think more about it, the elevator suddenly dings. You glance back quickly at the screen one last time to confirm as a squad of tens of Cadmus officers flood into the room with their guns drawn.

“GET ON THE GROUND!”

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

Your head snaps from side to side, waiting for a signal, any signal, or something telling you what to do. It never comes.

Fuck.

You’re going to have to think on your heels. Luckily, the three of you have been training nonstop ever since you got your costume, so you feel more than capable. Scared, 100%, but capable, nonetheless.

“You are trespassing in a government facility,” The main officer walks forward slowly with his gun aimed directly at Red Hood’s head. “Surender now and no one gets hurt.”

Where have you heard that one before? Oh, yeah, when your parents said it and lied.

Arsenal makes to lift his hands in surrender and you wonder if you should do that same. In the seconds during your hesitation, he makes the decision for everyone. With great speed, he loads his crossbow with a smoke grenade followed by a smoke bomb and sends them flying. The combination of arrows blinds and then clouds the room upon impact, giving you all the cover you need.

You feel their steady hands remain on you as the three of you sprint into the hallway. Luckily, none of the officers followed, allowing the three of you to board the now empty elevator.

Red Hood fires off a few shots at the guards that have caught on to your escape, but a few get too close as the doors continue to slowly close.

“Arsenal,” Red Hood covers you with his body, pushing you against the closest wall of the elevator car.

From only that one word, Arsenal springs into action, drawing one final arrow that unleashes a highly reactive, fast drying, industrial polymer that encases and hardens around the group of advancing men.

The three of you stand panting as the solid doors finally thud shut and the car makes its fast ascent.

“Holy shit,” You’re running your gloved hands up and down the expanse of Red Hood’s body armor as your adrenaline settles upon your vibrating body like a static-like buzz. “Poison Ivy was nothing compared to this shit.”

“You say it like it’s exciting,” Arsenal replies with a quirk of his lips, though his eyes remain distant.

He briefly turns off his voice modulator as the floors continue to quickly click by, “Prepare yourselves.”

Red Hood turns away from you to rub gently at Arsenal’s shoulders as you wait for what lies ahead.

Bows and guns drawn, the three of you await whatever waits beyond those heavy doors.

Ding!

Waves of higher level security are lined up at the ready. You swear you see what looks like a pale, big-headed monkey with horns hobbling inside a panel in the wall, but you can’t be sure. Your heart’s beating too fast for you to make sense of anything other than ducking and punching as you fight your way out of the elevator car. Too many bodies are piling up and Red Hood keeps having to re-trigger the door motion sensors to keep the heavy metal doors from closing on the three of you.

It’s not the most opportune position to be stuck in, let’s just put it that way.

Finally, Red Hood laces his gloved fingers together, which you use to backflip off of. The momentum sends you flying over top the rest of the officers and allows you to strike from behind.

With you out of the car, the men are forced to scatter, leaving an opportune moment for your partners to bulldoze their way into the hallway.

Red Hood immediately moves to cover you. You watch from the corner of your mask as he lands haymakers on any motherfuckers who stand in his way of reaching you.

“Hood, your six,” You warn, causing him to duck as you jab forward with your left hand. The power of your fist alone is enough to shatter through the visor on his helmet and reach his, now, unprotected face.

Red Hood pops back up, “Thanks, babe.” He seems like he wants to say something else but instead grabs you by both of your arms and spins you around to take a bullet for you. It’s romantic. Though, knowing he wears a heavier bullet-proof vest than most cops means that it makes more sense for him to take the hit, but… still romantic, nonetheless.

“That was close,” You breathe out unsteadily.

His sturdy grip around your biceps vanishes as he raises his guns to keep the advancing officers at bay.

“I don’t think I’d mind getting closer, Cardinal.”

At the sound of him using your heroine alias, you beam. “How much longer you think this bullshit will take?” To finish your sentence, you grab the head of the nearest guard to you before flinging him into one of his buddies.

Red Hood humors you, motioning to the growing pile of passed out bodies, “30 minutes tops.”

You can’t help but throw your head back and laugh, feeling like you’re in one of the old comics you used to pour over endlessly.

You advance on your lover slyly, never once faltering as he continues to fire off round after round. You feel someone advancing on you from behind and seamlessly spin around to take him down with a roundhouse before facing Red Hood again.

Your claws trickle up his body armor, stopping only at his thick breastplate. He follows the action easily, though never once misses his shot. “As soon as we’re finished, you can get as close to me as you like, Red.”

“What happened to fucking heads in the game?!” Arsenal slides over to the action, shooting off a quick succession of arrows as he does.

“You’re just mad you’re not getting felt up too. Don’t lie,” Red Hood’s monotonous warble manages to tease.

One moment, Red Hood is pummeling half-beaten guards your way to finish off, and the next… well.

You turn suddenly at the sound of a deep grunt, startling backward when you turn and are met with two stocky guards. You back up with raised fists, bumping into Arsenal’s familiar warmth as you do.

“Where’s Hood?” Arsenal has his head slightly turned so he can speak to one side of your face.

You shake your head, turning to do the same, “He was behind me. DUCK!” The two of you duck at the same time to avoid a round of bullets.

“Shit,” He curses at the same time the guards decide they’ve had enough of your conversation. You’re both surrounded as heavy-armored men swarm around the two of you like prey. “I can’t get taken again,” Arsenal’s panicking, making sporadic swings and holding nothing back. “I can’t,” He shakes his head as the outnumbering amount of remaining guards close in.

You steel yourself, ready to take on the brunt of men who seem distracted by your partner’s frantic state.

You claw your way between the men, ducking and dodging their heavy fists as you knock their guns from their hands.

“I won’t let them,” You pant, hoping you can keep good on your promise. This is the first bout of the night, but the constant hailstorm of fists coupled with Arsenal’s panic is dragging all the energy you’ve got. “But I need you to get your head back in the game.”

You do a flip over a guard who was taking aim at Arsenal. You grab at the shoulders of his bulletproof vest and tug down with might of your descent in a way that sends him sprawling halfway across the room. His gun clatters to the floor and you watch in horror as one of the men you’d just disarmed picks it up. The man aims and shoots so quickly that you almost don’t dodge the bullet sent millimeters away from your arm.

You hastily duck out of the way, dodging another close call, but you know your luck will run out soon if you continue to flee like this. Luckily, Arsenal seems to realize this and comes to just in time to protect you. He takes mere seconds to draw his bow to unleash a flash grenade that distracts them enough for you to flip over the two advancing guards in front of you.

You land behind them, kicking one in the back of the leg where you know it’ll give him a muscle spasm and the other on the tailbone where you know it’ll ache like a motherfucker.

It’s loud now.

The ugly sound of grunts, horrible cries of agony and the sickening squelch of fists against raw flesh fill the sterile, echoing hallway.

You’re so caught up in making sure that your stance is right and that you’re protecting your vulnerable areas, that you don’t hear Arsenal’s muffled cry for help.

Rather, you vaguely feel Arsenal’s presence disappear from behind you just as you feel Red Hood join you. His ragged breathing startles you as you take in his beaten state. You fend off a majority of the men to allow him a moment to rest, feeling a plethora of questions flooding your brain.

Where had Red Hood gone to?

Where is Arsenal now?

With everyone dropping like flies, you can’t help but wonder if you were going to disappear next…

Two men charge at you at once and you duck out of the way at the last second so that they tumble into each other instead.

“Hood,” You pant, turning just in time to see him body-slamming the last guard to the ground.

So far, no alarms have sounded, but you don’t know how much longer that’ll last with the amount of bodies your team has been piling.

“Where’s Arsenal?” He stalks over to you, quickly checking you over, it seems, without even realizing it.

“Don’t know,” You shake your head quickly. You can’t see it, but you know his face is grim. Your stomach settles uncomfortably, knowing you’ve undoubtedly let him down.

There’s no time to linger on your inner-doubts as Red Hood takes off.

You follow behind his frantic form as he searches the endless maze of hallways splayed out in front of you. After finding no further clues, you double back to the original hallway. You try to think back to where you were positioned when you felt him leave when it hits you.

You motion for Red Hood to follow you, something he does easily.

“It almost got me,” Red Hood says lowly, securing the hallway before motioning you forward. “Didn’t feel shit until it started dragging me.”

It?

He must be so caught up in memories of whatever happened last time he was here that he’s not thinking straight. You need to get him out of this funk and back in the game.

Without Hood’s guidance, you’ll be all on your own in this hellish laboratory.

“You’re not alone this time,” You put a reassuring hand on Red Hood’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

He shrugs it off almost immediately, leaving you feeling dejected. The action alone lets you know you’ve definitely let him down.

Great.

With Jason it was starting to feel like one step forward and two steps back; this morning being the step forward and now being the two steps back.

That’s all you have to say before the two of you are off again, searching each wing for any indication of Arsenal. Regardless of your hurt feelings, you follow after his long gait, making sure to check your six and stay alert even at his fast pace.

Red Robin, Superboy and Spoiler round the corner right as you feel your heels lift from the ground and a silencing hand (?) cover the mouth portion of your mask.

•••

Your head is underwater.

No, literally.

You’re somehow floating in water.

You can only manage to blink your eyes open for a couple of blurry seconds before the sting of the liquid forces them closed again.

The fuzzy image of the clock across from you shows it’s been nearly three hours since you’ve been taken. At least, you think. Each time you open your eyes, your vision becomes more and more clouded with whatever liquid you’re suspended in.

Muffled voices ripple around you along with animalistic growls.

If you could furrow your brows, you would.

Whatever had grabbed you obviously hadn’t been human, coupled with Jason calling his captor ‘it,’ you’re not sure what the fuck is in this room with you.

Nor, you realize, do you have any idea what you’re in.

You can’t turn your body, only having the ability to twitch your fingers and eyelids, but you’re pretty sure Roy’s right beside you.

You’re also pretty sure that you’re naked.

“There’s evidence of two subjects in this tube,” You hear clear as day. From the sounds of if, they must be directly in front of your… tube? “The original specimen is showing signs of symbiosis without ever having had the latest two compositions.”

“What’s the status of the test subjects for the serum finalized yesterday?”

“Still a week out before we can begin, sir.”

“That won’t do,” Comes a dark voice, much deeper than any of the other chatter. You hear a loud clank, then whirring as they jostle your tank around. “Inject the latest JK-2 serums into the specimen. Him too-" Who’s him?? “We’ll take all the free subjects we can get. Monitor the responses, then, call the boss. He’ll probably want us to run further diagnostics.”

You feel a cold rush race across the expanse of your encased skin, sending shivers across your body as the liquid settles into and fills your veins.

“First injection is complete, sir.”

You’re so used to being injected at this point, that it almost doesn’t phase you.

Almost.

Surprisingly, your legs kick out, ringing out in immediate, unbearable pain as they come into contact with what feels like thick glass. You try to move your arms, but only your fingers chose to cooperate as your body begins to shut down in a familiar terror.

Before you can completely surrender to your suffocating fear, you hear a loud boom, feeling debris impact your tank. Soon, the liquid blanketing you seeps through the cracks, leaving your body heavier and heavier as more continues to leak out. Your skin is starkly pierced by the prickly remains of your prison as your lifeless body leaks like a puddle to the steel floor below.

You’re half-lucid, half-panicked when sturdy arms wrap around your soaked body.

The tubes forced down your throat are carefully removed before you’re being hauled over someone’s shoulder.

It’s as if all your previous injections have granted you some sort of immune response against Joker’s torturous serum. No matter how much he tinkers with it, the fear seems to last shorter and shorter, with the hysteria lessening to that of nothing. Though you’re still fighting off the pulse-pounding effects of the injection, leaving you lucid with a fatigued pain settling deep into your bones.

No matter how quickly the other effects have worn off, the pain and mental toll still remain, fogging up your instincts.

With your breathing back to normal, you see that Hood has you thrown over his shoulder, sturdy hand around your ass, while a naked Arsenal wraps his arm around Hood’s neck for support.

Roy.

‘Inject him too.’

Had Roy really been right beside you that whole time? You fucked up over and over again tonight and this was another prime example of this. You promised Roy you wouldn’t let them take him again and yet…

You do feel a miniscule amount of your edge ebb knowing that, at the very least, he’s safe, though.

Red Robin quickly takes up the remainder of Arsenal’s weight while Spoiler makes a grab for your discarded suits.

Superboy’s trying his best to hold off what seems like the entirety of Cadmus security while the rest of you shuffle to safety.

Red Hood Hands Spoiler a handful of clanking items that she secures against the remains of the lab. She rushes to join you just as the room you and Arsenal were in explodes in a loud, angry cacophony of rubble. Any samples they may have kept from the two of you would stand no chance of surviving a blast like that.

With Superboy fighting off squadrons on his own, it’s not looking good. Plus, you’re not sure how much longer you can stay awake for.

It sounds like war.

The previous quiet that enveloped the lab is completely gone as ravaging screams and deafening gunpowder leak into the room like smog.

When all seems lost, a man in a gold helmet skids onto the scene.

His shield staves off the never-ending barrage of bullets coming from the hoards of guards, “This way!” The man wastes no time in scooping you up into his arms, so Red Hood’s better able to fight.

You start to protest, until you look up through the curtain of your wet hair to see the golden helmet of the man holding you.

“Roy?!”

This man seems to be a beefed up replica of Roy.

You blink again just to be sure of what, no, who, you’re seeing to confirm that, yes, this motherfucker looks just like your baby.

“Jim,” The Roy replica smiles down at you, blushing when he realizes your compromising state. “But you can call me Guardian.”

Your head is cold and pounding with the worst migraine of your life. You can’t 100% tell if your head is actually spinning because fuck if it doesn’t feel like it.

Your pulse quickens, seeming to match Guardian’s steadfast gait as he runs toward… well, you can’t really tell. The blurred edge around your vision slowly clouds in until it’s all you can see.

You know you’re losing it now.

The battle sounds far away, though you can feel the kickback from Guardian’s arm each time he fires off his gun.

Your visions suddenly become stronger and strike against your skull like a mallet.

Laughing, smoke, Joker.

An army.

Hood doesn’t hesitate to follow the clone, barreling down the hallway with a dripping, nude Arsenal supported in his arms. You want to say Arsenal looks pathetic when you realize you’re in the exact same state.

“It’s a dead end,” Red Hood exclaims, turning around to fire on the advancing swarm of guards with his free hand.

Meanwhile, Guardian sets you against the side of Red Hood that isn’t occupied by Arsenal and set to work, typing away at his holographic wrist-computer. “That’s what they want you to think,” He winks as the panel of the wall splits in two, revealing a raised, metal tunnel. You think back to that weird monkey creature you saw using the same type of panel earlier. If you’d been in your sane mind, you might’ve asked him what it was, but, as is, you’re lucky to be breathing. “Get in!”

Hood steps inside first, lifting Arsenal’s weakened body in behind him with help from Red Robin.

“Here,” Spoiler offers Guardian a hand.

Guardian takes it gratefully as he cradles you in his arms.

“Superboy!” Red Robin calls, signaling for him to make his escape. Spoiler anxiously looks up, nearly losing her grip on you as she watches Superboy barely make it in time.

He slams the entrance shut behind you right as the hoards of guards and odd-looking creatures round the corner.

The silence is eerie.

Your ears are still ringing from the battle in the quiet echo of your team’s shuffling.

“We’ve got keep moving,” Guardian suddenly says. His voice is grave and his eyes are filled with the wild worry of a cornered animal. “They’re closing off the exits to the genomorph tunnels as we speak,” He motions down to screen where outlets are turning from green to red. “We’re going to be stuck in here.”

“Where does this side of the tunnel face?” Spoiler points to her right as your group continues to sprint along the metallic tunnels.

Guardian stumbles in his gate as he looks down at his screen, “It, uh, doesn’t say.”

“Then that’s our way out,” Red Hood’s tone is final.

You hear Superboy asking Spoiler if she’s injured followed by Red Robin’s quick quip and Spoiler’s enchanted laugh.

You lose yourself in their moment of calm, allowing it to wash over you. It works for a while. The constant thrum of panic has somewhat waned, yet still lingers like a reminder across every inch of your naked body.

Suddenly, everyone screeches to an abrupt halt.

Your eyes blink open in a brief moment of strength only to see you’ve all hit a dead end.

“How?” Guardian starts, only to be cut off by Superboy’s confidence.

“Nothin’ I can’t break through,” Superboy cracks his knuckles with a small smirk thrown Red Robin and Spoiler’s way. “Nothin’ I haven’t done before either,” He adds bitterly as he faces the metal wall.

Red Hood’s taken off his brown leather jacket to offer you a bit of modesty, but it’s not much.

“Cardinal,” Hood’s turned off his voice modulator.

Jason.

“Yes,” He says. “Stay with me.”

“I need to figure out if there’s a hollow point I can work with.” Your eyes slip shut once again as the rhythmic thumping lulls you back into a light sleep.

“OOF!” Someone sounding suspiciously like Red Robin exclaims. “Kon, why’d you stop?”

“I hear something,” Meanwhile, you can practically hear him concentrating, even through your haze. “They’re going to start blowing the tunnels.”

“Then this is as far as I can take you.” Guardian, you recognize in your muddled thoughts. You hear the robotic tapping from his wrist computer. “They’ve surrounded all exits. I’ll try to hold them off as best I can.”

“Shit,” Red Hood’s voice rumbles across your skin.

“Kon,” Spoiler sounds like she’s panicking now, but you have no idea why. Your body’s never felt more relaxed. Your mind, however? That’s a whole different story.

Your visions come in waves, right now, quite literally.

You see waves, water. You can practically feel the droplets against your naked skin.

“I’ll bust us out of here, don’t worry,” You blearily open your eyes to see Superboy searching the wall with splayed hands. “Besides, I think I finally found the spot. This area seems structurally weak enough for me to break through, but once we break it, how are we getting out? I can’t fly,” He states.

“Break first, escape second,” Red Hood supplies, staring down at you with pity.

“You’re the boss,” Superboy shrugs, watching as Hood caresses your face, then Arsenal’s.

Superboy clears his throat and motions for everyone to get back.

Guardian activates his shield as the raven slams his fists against the metal, warping it with each titan-like clash of his strength.

You black out.

Your eyes shut without your permission, sealing shut with images of Superboy crashing down the mountain atop which Cadmus once stood.

Red Hood’s gun startles you awake again.

“Guardian,” You whisper helplessly, watching as the last of the lab crumbles into the river and is carried off with the rest of the debris.

Whatever serum they used has already worn off, though the pangs of your visions still ring out violently against your skull. It gets to the point where it’s nearly impossible to tell what’s a vision and what’s real.

“We’ve got to keep moving,” Red Robin helps you stand as Red Hood tries to wake Arsenal, but to no avail.

“Arsenal was in there longer than I was,” Your words feel incoherent as if you’re speaking through a drunken stupor. “I didn’t see what they did to him, but I was injected.”

You pull your arms through Red Hood’s jacket and zip it up. The length means the edge of his jacket just barely covers the lower half of your ass, but you’re not stopping to shimmy into your skin-tight suit right now.

Red Hood growls lowly, quickly snatching his helmet from his head, “They didn’t deserve mercy.”

“I’d hardly call their base collapsing mercy,” Red Robin chimes hesitantly.

Red Hood ignores him, electing to trek forward with Arsenal thrown over his shoulder.

The sun has just begun to rise, leaking vibrant pinks and melty yellows across the horizon. Crickets chirp out as the songbirds rise from their nests to greet the dawn.

You feel yourself lulling off to the peace of early morning noise. That is until Jason’s anger suddenly lights up your ears. Seeing as you’d been steadily nodding off, your head snaps up in alert at his deep grumble.

Apparently, he wasn’t going to ignore Red Robin.

“Mercy,” He mutters with a humorous laugh as if he’s been mulling over the word. “Fuck you, Tim. I’ll tell you what, It’s mercy compared to the hell I would’ve shown ‘em,” You watch as he suddenly spits on the ground with a snarl. “Fucking COWARDS!” He stops now and you halt your limping to stare at him, “I’D’VE FUCKING KILLED THEM. WRUNG THEIR FUCKING NECKS ONE BY FUCKING ONE, TIM. I DON’T GIVE A FUCK,” He looks psychotic now. “I’d do it. I’d watch as their pathetic lives left their eyes and I’d fucking laugh. I’d be so fucking happy, you have no fucking idea. Pathetic, soulless SCUM.”

Everyone stares at him in shock, watching as he angrily pants. His fists are clenched as he burns holes in the ground below him.

“Jason,” Tim trails off softly. It’s as if he’s still surprised by the outburst because he can’t seem to think of anything else to say beyond that.

Field names be damned.

“You and these fucking bats, you’ve all got this dumb fucking antiquated code,” Jason grits out. “Guess what, Timmy? I don’t have that fucking code and I don’t think I ever will. This is my mercy; take it or leave it. Tell Bruce to disown me again, I don’t care. Not this time.”

He’s put his heart out on the line, revealed all his cards and yet, his brother remains silent.

It’s answer enough for Jason, it seems who merely resituates Roy and starts away from the river.

“No use in talking about it now,” Steph mutters as she examines the horrifying remains of the lab.

The entire body of water is littered with large, crumbling portions of a now unrecognizable building.

Even in your haze, you know your group doesn’t have much time to hang around. You need to get moving.

Moving.

You attempt a step of your own and quickly fall forward into what may as well have been steel but was, in all actuality, just Conner. He calmly picks you up at the bend of your bare knees with ease before motioning for Tim and Steph to follow him onward.

Even though he’s suited up, you see Tim so clearly now as he helplessly stares at his brother.

Tim’s mouth opens, then shuts before ultimately trudging forward, “Let’s go.”

Jason mumbles something incoherent. Nonetheless, you can hear the tears in his voice as Conner finally catches up to him.

“This whole thing was fucking bullshit, man,” He wipes angrily at his domino mask. “No one should’ve been taken.”

“We did our best,” Is what Conner ultimately replies. His tone is unsure, like he doesn’t know if what he says will set Jason off again or not.

It doesn’t.

“Yeah,” Jason says, “but was it enough?”

From there, the trek continues on.

Soon, it becomes obvious to the group that Jason’s lagging behind. It seems Roy’s added weight coupled with Jason’s own injuries has left him trudging a few feet behind everyone else.

No one says anything, but you can see Steph, Tim and Conner all seemingly having a conversation through their eyes alone. It reminds you of your high school years when Jason and Roy would do much of the same and how it’s evolved to now include all three of you.

At some point, Conner offers to take Arsenal from Jason, but he refuses.

“No, this is my burden.” You’ve never heard him sound so grim.

Your heart sinks, “Jay.”

“No,” You watch as his bottom lip wobbles slightly. “Don’t you dare try to fucking lie to me. Not when they almost stole everything from me again.”

You stare at him from over Conner’s shoulder, tapping him to let you down. He does, but looks after your wobbly form with concern.

“It’s not your burden to bear alone.” Even though it’s already hard enough to hold yourself up, you limp over and shoulder the rest of Roy’s weight. “And I’m not fucking lying.”

Tim, Connor and Steph stare back at the three of you, looking at each other before continuing on.

Though it takes longer, you and Jason carry Roy’s weight all the way back to Gotham’s outskirts. You’re met by Jon and Damian and two parked cars.

Upon seeing you, Jon flies over and scoops a naked Roy from both of you, safely depositing him in the car he and Damian had exited from. Damian watches the action distastefully, undoubtedly annoyed that Roy’s bare ass cheeks are sitting on his Italian leather.

Jason wastes no time in lifting you up bridal style to carry you to the road.

“The fuck happened?” Damian asks, looking the five of you over with a quirked brow.

“We’ll brief you on the ride back,” Tim says. He can’t stop looking back at you and Jason, though. You meet his gaze only to have him smile lightly and help Stephanie into the car.

“I call shotgun!” Jon calls as he hops into the passenger seat beside his older brother.

Damian ‘tchs,’ looking over you and Jason with a distasteful look. His mood seems to soften when he realizes Jason isn’t in the mood for their usual tiff and surprisingly backs off.

“I suppose I’d get stuck with you three,” Damian says lightly as he and Jason help you into the back seat of the Batmobile.

Lian was going to be so upset you were in here without her.

Jason ignores him in favor of glancing back at you and Roy briefly. He, ultimately, settles his gaze out the window.

The engine booms to life and Damian waits for Conner’s car to start up before he revs the engine once more. It all seems to go largely ignored by Jason.

“Cadmus is gone.”

“Meaning you killed them all?” Damian sneers, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drop the three of you off at Blackgate?”

The car zooms off at a speed that sends your body backward against your seat.

“Building collapsed,” Jason closes his eyes, “all on its own.” Jason’s statement lingers in the air as Damian sorts out the information in his head.

Finally, Damian clears his throat. “Fine, then,” His eyes flicker over your discarded costume in the rearview obviously looking to change the topic. “Costume held up well, I presume?”

“Would’ve kept me nice and cozy in the incubation chamber if they hadn’t stripped me.” The resounding silence that follows makes your stomach sink, “You were right, Dami. Hell, you both were,” You feel his gaze on you in the mirror but you refuse to meet it. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

Inside the chamber was unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

It’s just another experience to add to the vault of terrifying images that already keep you up at night.

Great.

One thing you haven’t figured out was what they meant by two subjects.

The pregnancy test you’d taken had come back quite clearly as negative, but it didn’t mean you weren’t going to double-check as soon as you got back.

“I think you’re conveniently misconstruing our words,” Damian responds without missing a beat. Jason turns his head in surprise, not having expected Damian to stick up for him. “And I think you’re beating yourself up for nothing. Everyone gets captured at some point. Not everyone gets out safe. You did well.”

You blush, ducking your head from Jason’s view, “Thanks.”

Jason’s the one clicking his tongue now, “From threatening to drop her off at Blackgate to congratulating her.” Jason trails off, staring at the tiny quirk of Damian’s mouth with disdain. “Whatever,” He huffs.

From beside you, Roy finally begins to stir.

He sucks in an aching breath, nearly choking on it as he begins to thrash around. Roy searches around frantically until his eyes finally rest on you and Jason, “Wha?”

You immediately caress his face, “We’re safe. We’re in the Batmobile.”

He nods blearily. After a few moments, he sits up slowly, straightening himself in his seat with a feigned nonchalance.

Whatever guilt Jason was feeling revives itself in everything he does, “They’re gone, Roy.” He looks like he’s waiting for Roy to yell at him. No, like he’s waiting for both of you to start telling him he fucked up.

“Got me outta there a second time, Jay?” Roy tries to joke, but his tone falls flat. You immediately start rubbing your hand up and down his sweat-soaked chest. You can tell he wants to ask about the nudity, but seeing you also naked has him distracted.

It’s not so much comfort for him as it is for you, trailing your fingers through his coarse chest hair and over the divots of his abs as if to prove he’s actually here.

You really thought you’d lost him.

“I let you get taken a second time, Roy,” He faces forward, not daring to meet Roy’s concerned gaze. “This time, I let her down, too. Again.”

The finality in Jason’s tone forces Roy’s eyes to face your still slightly damp form. You know that with your wet hair you probably look like a wet rat in Jason’s oversized jacket, but Roy looks past this and seemingly more. His eyes linger over your naked body with a cold distance, seeming to realize that both of you had gotten captured.

You won’t allow him to stew in self pity either. Despite your tiredness and the way your head pounds, despite the body aches and heartache, you push through. They need you to be strong in a moment when they’re both crumbling.

You steel yourself, gathering the fumes of energy you have left to feign normalcy when there is none.

“Now that you’re awake,” You turn to Roy, “can you please talk some sense into him?” Your arm motions toward Jason. “He, Tim, Kon, Steph and I’m like 99% sure your clone, got us out of there. The whole place collapsed- the whole god damned thing, Roy. It’s all gone and Jason’s one of the only reasons we’re both in this sick ass car right now and not chunks floating down a river.”

You try to convey just how insane Jason’s being with your face, but Roy’s more focused on putting the pieces together.

“Wait,” He rubs at his face. “Jim? Did he….?” Jason’s stiff posture is the only answer Roy needs. He laughs humorlessly, staring off into space as he takes in all the new information, “And then there was one.”

You realize quickly enough that no sense will be talked into Jason because sense needs talked into Roy first.

“We’d be stupid to think taking down their facility means the complete annihilation of Cadmus,” Damian starts somewhat cautiously. You watch as his hazel eyes carefully meet Roy’s in the rearview mirror as if to gauge his reaction.

“No, he’s right.” The weight behind Roy’s response, hell, his agreeing with Damian is all too much.

“It’s not completely hopeless,” You try. “Plus, we got the info we came here for. Steph confirmed that they managed to snag the stem sample Ivy sold and now we know about the microwave emitter.” Roy’s lips are tight as he looks out the window. “We may have gotten captured, but they blew up the lab. There’s no possible way for their to be any remains of either of our DNA and, oh yeah, did I mention the whole fucking lab was obliterated? That’ll throw them off for a while and, when it doesn’t, we’ll be right there to take them down for good. All three of us,” You place a gentle hand on his knee. “No one will ever have to go through what you went through there again, baby.”

The energy in the car grows even tenser and you start to wonder if you’ve maybe said the wrong thing.

Finally, Roy speaks.

“What we went through,” Roy corrects you grimly, looking at you only through the reflection of the car window’s glass. “You were right beside me in that lab and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

Jason’s chin rests in his hand with his fist covering his mouth as he stares out at the Gotham City lights. Through the side mirror though, you can tell his eyes are unfocused. You know he’s heard Roy and can’t help but think he deserves percentage of that same blame.

They’re both ridiculous.

Can they not hear what you’re saying, or are they just ignoring you to brood?

Of everything that went wrong, so much more was righted in the end. The whole situation’s like a win, win, win… win. Multiple wins, okay?

And, yeah, there were losses. You and Roy got shoved into test tubes and Guardian was lost in the wreckage, but it could’ve been so much worse.

You don’t feel bad about admitting that you feel like the mission was a near complete success.

“Well, I’ll be here to help you try.” You look from Roy to Jason, “Both of you.” A few beats of silence linger in the Batmobile before you finally try again, “I love you, my loves.”

This finally gets them out of their clouded thoughts.

Jason reaches around to kiss the back of your hand and, at the same time, Roy places a gentle kiss on your cold cheeks. After their combined attention, your cheeks definitely aren’t so cold anymore.

Damian snorts, “This is just like one of those fucking Telenovelas Jason used to force me to watch with him.”

“Shut up, fuckface,” Jason slumps back in his seat, instantly going back to scowling out the window dramatically.

Another few dregs of silence linger before, surprisingly, Damian’s the one to break it.

He clears his throat hesitantly, “I didn’t bring up the possibility to ruin the mood further.” Was Damian seriously apologizing to Roy? Even Roy seems uncertain at the odd shift in conversation. “It was merely to say that Grayson and I will keep an eye on Cadmus’ progression for you three. I doubt to see much activity from them for at least a few months, but I won’t assume anything when it comes to them.” You think he’s done, but after a moment, he continues. “You all did good work, so don’t worry about the maintenance. We’ve got that covered.”

Roy nods appreciatively at Damian before turning to you.

The chip on his shoulders that had been there moments prior has seemingly lifted. His hand tentatively trails across your bare thigh to gently take your hand into his. You can’t help the light sigh you release at the contact, but the small smile he gives in return makes you glad for it.

His freckled fingers trail over your soft skin absentmindedly as you trudge on through the rainy dredge of the neon-lit city.

Damian was kind enough to bring a few sets of civie clothes for the three of you to change into before hopping out of the Batmobile a few blocks away from your apartment. The action alone reminds you fondly of when you’d given Jason, then as Red Hood, the run around with your address much in the same way.

You don’t mind the short walk, reveling in how the salty Gotham rain stings against your skin, reminding you that you’re real.

Lian’s been asleep for hours by the time your motley crew stumbles back into the threshold of your penthouse.

You and Jason help Roy in the shower, spending extra time to drag your caring touches all along his body as he sobs into the stream. Once he’s sufficiently washed and his tears refuse to fall any longer, you hop out to help him to bed while Jason finishes washing up.

“Come on, baby,” You coo, drawing his wet, naked body into bed with yours. You can’t help but think back to how the two of you were just in this predicament hours earlier, something Roy seems to sense. “What?” You ask, regardless.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” He whispers your name into the low lit room.

You sigh, trying to will away your annoyance, but it still shines through anyway, “It’s not like I’m some fucking damsel in distress, Roy. I can hold my own.”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it,” He chides back without missing a beat.

You focus on wiping away the remaining streaks of tears that stain his flushed, freckled cheeks.

“I love you,” You murmur, moving your body closer to his. It’s not sexual, well, it is, but it’s not meant to be. It’s reassurance, comfort that the man you love is still here beside you. It makes you want to memorize every inch of his body in case…

“I love you more,” He nestles further into you, leaving you to wonder if he’d been thinking the exact same thing.

You don’t know who caves first, all you know is that his chapped lips are moving against your plump ones.

It’s slow and fluid, like even shrouded in all his stupor, he’s putting every ounce of love and devotion into his erotic onslaught against you.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper against his lips without thinking.

He blinks blearily at you before resting his forehead against your own. His grip on your jaw lightens briefly as he looks at you, really looks at you and sighs, “I’m sorry too.”

You nod, biting your lip, not sure if you’ve ruined the mood when he guides your face up to drag you under once again. Your toes curl as Roy’s hands trickle along all of your sensitive spots, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His love distracts you from the heaviness of the night, if only for the minutes that trickle by, coming apart in each other’s arms.

When you do separate, you’re both panting and still connected via a heavy string of saliva that Jason graciously wipes away for the two of you.

“I thought you were in the shower,” You say dumbly at the jaw-dropping site in front of you.

Your eyes follow down the rippling divots of Jason’s muscles as droplets cascade down them. You swallow heavily, unwittingly looking down at Roy for refuge from the tantalizing sight.

“You should go finish up,” He notes your blush with sparks of mischief in his eyes, but he keeps his kiss with you PG-13. “I can take over here.”

You patter about the room for a while, building up the courage to do what you’re about to do.

While Jason’s busy holding Roy tight in bed, you sneak off to the bathroom. Neither seem to notice how you uncharacteristically close the door with a click behind you, which makes it all the more easy to pull out your secret stash from under the sink.

You’ve only had to use them once before, leaving only one package.

You turn on the shower to drown out the noise you know you’ll soon be making before hurrying back to the task at hand.

The plastic crinkles upon first contact with your tentative hands, but the door ultimately remains shut. You breathe out shakily, fumbling to tear it open so you can finally get some relief after the whole test tube debacle.

Your mind hasn’t been quite right since and you know this will at least put some of your worries at ease.

Seconds are ticking by as you finally manage to rip it open like a bandaid.

You pay little attention to the ruckus you’ve made as you quickly take the contraption out. You conceal the wrapper in toilet paper before stuffing it down in the bottom of the trashcan, not bothering with the instructions.

How hard could it be, anyway? Step 1: Piss on stick, Step 2: Read stick.

There’s nothing left to do but face the music, you think bitterly.

You stare at the white object in front of you, scoffing at how a dumb piece of plastic was going to be the thing that reveals your fate.

You take the pregnancy test and quickly hop into the shower to finish rinsing the dried suds from your body. You emerge in a swell of steam minutes later and are relieved to see the ‘negative’ flashing across the small digital screen.

You stare at yourself in the foggy mirror as panic sets in.

They can’t know you had another scare, not when the first one a year ago caused such mixed emotions for everyone. You wonder if now would be different but quickly shake your head. You have Lian. You want to make sure her childhood’s better than all three of yours and that’s all you can afford to focus on for now.

With pregnancy out of the way, you’re left to wonder what exactly the Cadmus scientists had meant by ‘two subjects.’ Poison Ivy had mentioned a symbiotic nature, but surely the stem you’d collected tonight had been the only stem she’s sold to him… Right?

You glance past your reflection up to the window that sits behind you. You know it opens slightly at the top to allow ventilation and realize this is your best bet. You climb into the slippery tub, standing precariously on the thin ledge to unlock the hinge and open the small squeaky window. You can’t see down with the way it opens upward at an angle, but you’re able to throw the stick out of the opening easily enough.

You glance back at the door, but it’s still shut. You can’t stop the loud exhale you produce, thankful that the shower’s still on to hopefully cover it up. You quickly finish up in the bathroom before joining your loves on the bed.

You think you’ve made it when Jason suddenly stirs.

“Did you open the window, babe?” Jason asks quietly so as not to wake Roy.

“Just to help the steam,” You swear you answer too nonchalantly for him to actually believe, but all he does is yawn and pat beside him on the bed. You curl into his strong, naked body, smiling when he immediately scatters light kisses against your still warm skin. “How’s he faring?”

“It’ll be hard,” Jason’s hands begin wandering less than innocently along the globes of your ass, “but he’s got us.”

Just like you had the two of them through the darkest parts of your life, the least you can do is be there for them during theirs.

You nod, breath hitching as he draws you in for a toe-curling kiss.

“Jason,” You gasp, only to have him gently shush you. The three of you have long established that sex doesn’t always have to be the three of you, but you always feel somewhat odd when it happens.

You can’t count the amount of times Roy’s eaten you out in the parking lot while Jason was grabbing groceries or Jason’s habit of sneaking into your long ass showers to get you dirty all over again. It also wasn’t unheard of for whoever was going on patrol that night to have the occasional rooftop/alleyway quickie.

Let’s be honest, after tonight’s terrifying, death-defying mission, you have a lot of tension you need help releasing.

Jason seems to understand completely.

“Today kinda put me back in the fucked up headspace I had after,” He trails off, stopping his salacious ministrations before he can reach your throbbing cunt. He sees the understanding in your eyes and clears his throat, “Just felt like I let you down again.”

“Well,” You flip around in bed so you can face him, running your hands along his abs as you meet his heated gaze, “you didn’t and neither did he.” You motion over his shoulder with the slight bob of your head where Roy's passed out. “Fuck me and get whatever guilt you have out, babe.”

He bites lightly at his bottom lip, reveling in the way your body reacts to him, “I can do that.”

Roy’s snores accompany the gentle sound of Jason making love to you until you’re completely tired and spent. Soon, all three of your snores fill the room with something Lian would later tell you at the breakfast table that sounded like ‘hibernating bears.’

This week, there's definitely an uptick in the peculiar instances of hibernating bears.

A/N: not edited as much as i'd like. just finished editing this outline so expect more CS soon!

be sure to check out info on the giveaway for a physical copy of ARS (plus 4 custom pins and a bookmark!) here!

[next: coming soon] || masterlist || pinned

#reader x jason todd x roy harper #reader x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #my fic: cardinal sins #jayroy #x reader

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sarcasticbambi · 8 months

Text

Enchanted Chapter II

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Marinette has decided.

Jagged Stone should never, ever be allowed in another of these Wayne Galas.

If he’s normally difficult to handle by himself, then he’s absolutely insufferable now that he has company that eggs him on!

Now I understand why Penny almost begged me to come…

Not only does she have to take care of Jagged on a daily basis as his manager and long standing friend, now she also has to reign in his childhood friend because lord knows what would happen if they were to be left unattended…

Honestly, Marinette was expecting more from this Bruce Wayne guy. Jagged talked her ears off about how amazing of a friend he is and all his accomplishments and the work he does for charity and the community. Even Penny joined in saying how great he is.

But, so far, all she’s seen of this guy is him drinking his brains out along with Jagged and making themselves look like fools.

And none of his sons seem to be around to reign him in either. be it because he’s like Jagged and can’t be reigned in, or they just don’t care enough to do it.

Hopefully they aren’t as bad as he is at these events…

Now that she’s done the whole “introduce to the childhood best friend” part of her duties as her honorary Uncle’s plus one, she’s going off and as far away from these “grown adults” as possible.

Maybe I’ll be able to find the gentleman from the balcony - ahhh - what are you thinking, Marinette?!

She had removed her mask while in the corner she found in the garden - wearing a mask all night long is tiring and restricting, even if she insists on using it to keep her identity secret until she feels comfortable sharing it with the world.

She wasn’t expecting to turn around and make eye contact with the gentleman on the balcony. It was quite a distance from where she was, but after years of being Ladybug, all her senses have been greatly amplified - eyesight included - so it came as no surprise when she managed to make eye contact with him, if only for the fact that it allowed her to see his beautiful green eyes.

Maybe Kagami IS right and I do have a thing for green eyed men…

It’s such a pity that it was a short encounter, being interrupted by Luka calling her back inside to meet the famous Bruce Wayne.

Stealing one last glance his way, she placed her mask back on and turned around.

Now, after having complied with her duties as a plus one, she’s basically free to do whatever, and she’ll take advantage of that and try to find the mysterious green eyed, ginger gentleman.

Maybe mingling with the socialites of Gotham would help in finding him

The thought made her shudder, but for some reason something told her that she needed to meet him. And if there’s anything the Kwamis Guardian training has taught her, it was to trust her instincts, and right now, they were SCREAMING at her to at least find out his name before the end of the party.

The reason? She did not know, but she also did not completely mind it.

So, with a new mission in mind, she left off to find him.

--------------------------------------------------------------

After dropping Lian off at the kids section, Roy moved to the bar hoping to find Jason.

And if he paid more attention to the people in the ballroom in search of the midnight haired Garden Fairy, no one needed to know.

“Who are you looking for?” Jason said, startling him out of his musings.

“Wow, are you ok dude? What got you so distracted that you got startled by that??”

He was so lost in his mind that he didn’t even notice he’d reached the bar and Jason had approached him.

He’ll never let this go if he knows that I got distracted over a woman

“Sorry, I was just thinking about having to leave Lian alone” please buy this, please buy this. Roy knew it was a losing battle, but he could at least try, right?

“Yeah, yeah. dad of the year award and all that bullshit, congrats. I mean who’s the woman that got you distracted like that, you idiot.”

“It’s not-”

“And don’t give me that crap. I know you Roy, you can deceive yourself, but you definitely can’t lie to me. The only reason other people fall for it is because they’re either not trained like us, or they don’t know you. Now spill them beans bitch.”

“Fine.” and with a long sigh, Roy explained about how he found a Fairy out in the gardens and how he felt like he absolutely had to find her again.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA- I’M SORRY- HAHAHA- A FAIRY! A GARDEN FAIRY HAHAHA! you’ve definitely been playing too many fairytale fantasies with Lian!” Jason said between gasps of breath while trying not to die of laughter.

Roy knew that this was coming, but it was just ridiculous. Come on, he’s a dedicated dad and “Garden Fairy” was definitely the most suitable of names for the beauty in the middle of the well cared for greenery!

“Haha, we got it, it’s hilarious! Are you going to help me find her or not?” Roy rolled his eyes when Jason was still gasping for breath and trying to stifle his laugh at the same time, which wasn’t exactly working.

“I’m sorry, haha, I will! Of course I will! Just thinking about the last time you got laid makes me want to cry for you, so of course I’ll help when you show interest in a woman for the first time in almost 6 years now. She could be the one you know!”

insert deadpan look “Are you for real now Jason? And I’m the one playing too many fantasies with Lian? What about you and your romances? Aren’t you sticking your nose too far into the books at the newest book store around the corner of that one safe house?”

“Hey! Those books need to be read. They’re masterpieces that you’d never even imagine yourself to be able to understand. The sentences are immaculate, the plot is well plotted, no holes in a single chapter. The reading is so smooth it’s like laying on a bed with brand new silk sheets, it’s-”

“Ok nerd, I got it! You like reading them and I’m an idiot who will never get it, now get your romantic brain to work and help me find her”

“Alright, alright. Bossy much?”

“I heard that.”

After all the bickering, both men turned and discretely glanced at the crowd while making short conversation, looking for Roy’s mysterious Garden Fairy.

It took a bit, but finally, his eyes found her form. For some reason, she was now wearing a red, black and gold mask that she wasn’t previously wearing in the garden, and that may have contributed to how long it took to find her.

She was talking with a family that owned some sort of textile company in Old Gotham, but her eyes were glancing around the room, seemingly looking for something. Or maybe someone.

He didn’t like alluding himself, because it could not be true, and the disappointment would be too much to handle. But she really seemed to be looking for someone, and each time she failed to do so, he could see her nose scrunching - even with the mask - and the disappointment was clear in her bluebell eyes.

He was begging every entity to have her eyes meet his, and it seemed his prayers paid off, because not even a second later, her eyes landed on his. He saw recognition flash through them and a bit of pink took over the part of her face he could see. He was happy to see that reaction on her, it meant that she wasn’t completely uninterested as he had feared she would.

He started moving towards her and hoped he could convey in their conversation with their eyes, just how fascinated he was to have found her in those gardens earlier and that he would like to know more about her.

—————————————-

Marinette saw the ginger gentleman from the balcony move towards her, and from his eyes, she could tell he was just as interested in finding out more about her as she was about him.

So, turning away from the prospective business partners, she moved towards him, eventually standing only a couple feet from each other almost in the middle of the dance floor.

Glancing at the people already waltzing, she turned towards the ginger gentleman, an invitation clear in her eyes.

He took a step closer, hand reaching out for hers, and in the smoothest voice she’d ever heard, he asked her for a dance.

She placed her gloved hand on his inviting one, and that was all he needed to pull her closer and start the waltz that would change their lives.

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#maribat #dc x mlb #roynette #marinette dupain cheng #roy harper #liam harper #wayne gala #wingman liam harper #wingman jason todd #jason todd is a little shit #fairies #marinette is MDC

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royboyfanpage · 2 months

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What is your absolute favorite thing about Roy?

Oooh, this is a tough question, I love everything about Roy. If I had to pick, I'd say his relationships with younger people.

Obviously, the biggest example of that's Lian. Being a single father's such a compelling character trait, especially in a superhero setting, and it adds so much depth to his character. Even when Lian's not actively on-panel, the way Roy reacts to the world around him is constantly influenced by her existence. Hands down some of my favourite Roy panels are the ones where Roy forces himself to keep fighting when everything seems hopeless because otherwise Lian would be alone, when he bases his decisions on making Lian proud, or when Lian's in any sort of danger*. Lian shapes who he is, both as a hero and a person, and erasing her was maybe the stupidest decision DC ever made.

However, his relationships with younger heroes are also so endearing! A post by @/mysterycitrus made an amazing point about the significance of having a recovered addict being seen as a support figure to younger people, so absolutely go check that post out. Grant's the most obvious example, (which, a little bit of shameless self promo, but I wrote a fic of him and the Harpers which four people said was good so apparently it's worth the read) and the way that he and Grant interact is so telling of the type of person Roy is. Roy specifically requests Grant be added to the Titans '99 roster because he sees potential in Grant, and because he thinks that Grant wants that chance to prove himself again. However, when he realises just how much Grant has on his mind, he sees that superheroics isn't helping him so he gives Grant the chance to walk away. His relationships with Rose and Bart are also good examples of this within the Titans, and Bart respecting Roy more than Wally is one of the funniest/sweetest things to come from that era. Also the fact that Mia is explicitly inspired to become Speedy because of Roy, not just because of his accomplishments as a hero but also because of his recovery, is so sweet and an absolutely amazing message about how Roy's recovery is much more telling of his character than his addiction.

*An aside, while I hate talking about Rise of Arsenal because A) it makes me cry and B) it kinda had the same tone as a villain origin story, I do think that him killing the Electrocutioner was in character, and a good comparison point between He Who Is Incorrectly Labelled As DC's Best Dad and DC's Actual Best Dad. The differences between UtRH and Green Arrow #1 are also great for that.

Thank you so much for the ask!! :)

#yes i DID choose a vague response so I could talk about Lian Grant and Mia #roy harper #arsenal #speedy #confusedhummingbird

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vole-mon-amour · 11 months

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You know, I was surprised by the amount of people asking for s4. I understand, it's your favourite show. Mine, too. I'll be devastated if we never see Phil as Jamie again (he's my fav character, can't do anything about it). I'll miss him very very much.

However,

1. I was amazed by the amount of things they got wrong but general audience saying that the finale was perfect and asking for more. We must be watching a very different show.

2. After that AMA with Brendan, I simply don't trust the writers to continue this. In my mind it's a bit of a relief that we're probably not getting more because of the possibility of them ruining it even further.

Sure, one of my fav episodes (Sunflowers, 3x06) was written by Jason S. and Joe Kelly. Brendan was probably involved in some way, but not enough to give him credit for writing and directing it.

International break, 3x10, was written by Jane Becker. There are moments that I dislike, but the entire Uncle day? Roy & Jamie being besties? Roy finding the right words after he sees Jamie giving a nod to Sam that couldn't represent his team? Chef's kiss. I still think the way they handled Roy x Keeley was awful, but still. It was, more or less, a nice episode in my opinion.

Mom city, 3x11, was written by both Jason and Brendan & I absolutely LOVE it for most part (especially if we ignore the entire 'forgive him' thing with Jamie's dad). Jamie-centric episode that I'll always cherish & it's a shame we didn't have more of those. Give Phil all the awards. Love love LOOOVEEE IIITTT. Even better, give Jamie his own spin-off and invite Phil back as Jamie. (But then again, the fear of them bringing James back into Jamie's life and showing it as a good thing... The fear is Real.)

However, how could all Jason, Joe, and Brendan together write and release 3x12 as is is beyond me. How could they give us all those parallels, all that build up, only for it to ruin it in the finale? Jamie and his dad, Beard and Jane, the weird triangle thing that before this was mostly presented as ot3 but suddenly turned in the dumbest possible '2 people are chasing another same one' and Roy & Jamie both being OOC as HELL. Even ot3 aside, what was that bar talk? Jamie would never. Then at Keeley's house and Roy that's 'been working his ass off for the past year' but actually regressed to the point of BEFORE we see him in s1. He was presented as mentally mature in s1. I understand that he's jealous and insecure, but getting back to throwing punches at your best friend trying to convince himself/believing that after one night stand (that was VERY poorly addressed in 3x10 and 3x11 in my opinion) you're getting back together with your ex when she's been turning you down again and again? After that misogynistic comment about "But she's a woman, so you never know." WHO wrote that and why? Who allowed this to appear in the actual episode? And don't give me the "He's only human" treatment, he was always human but he never treated Keeley that shitty. He was better than that from the beginning. Or is it just me who wanted him to be better? Plus, Roy attacking Jamie after KNOWING what Jamie went through and how awful it is for him.

Before TL there was a show that I loved very much, but it disappointed me to the point that I started hating it, dropped it before the last season aired, and blacklisted it everywhere. I won't name it, but the writers were absolutely awful and treated the fans and the main gay ship like clowns. Typical Cis White Guys behavior towards their own characters and writing them as OOC as possible. I was very afraid this might happen to TL but was hoping that it won't. After 3x12? You guys. All my trust into their writing and believing in knowing what they're doing completely disappeared.

I am gutted bc of how much this show means to me and how it helped me through the darkest time in my life, but also... Are we sure we want more? Are we sure we trust them to continue this with these characters? I can kinda imagine the female football team, but to continue with all of our favs?

Mmm, I'm not sure about that, guys. Are you?

#brendan hunt #jamie tartt #ted lasso #roy kent #roy x jamie #roy x jamie x keeley #jason sudeikis #meta #i guess?#i tag the ships but it's actually more generic for me #them getting their own characters wrong is SO BAD #there are actually way more issues for me in the finale #i just completely can't get over the named ones #bc if i start on what i didn't name...#yikes #i also have SO many questions for phil #can i please have a chat with him?#i usually don't know what to ask but this time i have too many questions

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murdererofthumbs · 1 year

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I find it fascinating that some people think that Roman’s mountain top outburst with Matsson was a fucking business strategy, that it was actually a negotiation tactic. I’m sorry, but did we watch the same scene? Not only did Matsson fuck them over by giving an offer the board absolutely won’t refuse (which shits right on the genius master plan of Kendall taking over Waystar - yet again, for what?), he also pretty clearly blew his lid off. Is revealing all the ways they planned to fuck the deal supposed to be this amazing tactic? Absolutely not. He lost it, it was a culmination of all the grief, all the anxiety, and all the anger at Matsson for dragging them up there days after their father died, and he just fucking erupted. Comparing him to Logan in that moment only matches if you think about Logan fucking losing it and making a stupid decision because he lost his tempter (like his little tantrum after PGN went to shit). I feel like in their world, you’re either an emotional wall or you lose, that’s it. No cards on the table, because you can’t manipulate someone if not only they can clearly see through you, but you also just come out with unhinged monologue, revealing everything (which I’m happy that Roman did it, he needed that catharsis, but also - not a good business move overall). Lucas was not intimidated by Roman, he was amused, he threw more money at them to solidify the deal, because he saw an emotional value ATM holds for them. That’s what the picture from Shiv was about, that was his one big fuck you. In the end of the day, it is a big dick competition.

I also saw some interesting (if only questionable) opinions on Shiv - Matsson stuff. Like yeah, I think girlie was definitely winning this episode, especially when you had her brothers as a comparison, who just stood there with dicks in their hands, looking absolutely clueless half of the time. At this point what is going on between Shiv and Matsson could be considered a mutual symbiosis; they are kind of like two parasites feeding of each other, playing each other off but to the benefit of both of them. But this cannot be long-term, we all know how things go - the closer you get to the sun, the more painful the fall is going to be. Matsson getting Shiv on his side (with quite a lot of enthusiasm on Shiv’s side, she did try to play her own angle all along), is a very easy way of getting himself an insider to the company. It’s also very easy way to take care of Kendall and Roman problem. Shiv has a motivation to stab her brothers in the back, she can sense that she is not being included, and she can very clearly see that her brothers are actually incompetent and don’t have a plan. Which means that Matsson going with “you remind me of your dad” was an extremely good move on his side. It solidified it for Shiv, it literally lifted her of the ground. Because everyone with a pair of working eyes can see that Roy siblings cling to Logan like he’s a raft, and all they want to do is either make daddy proud or be like daddy. For Shiv it’s a compliment of a highest standard to be compared to Logan, because Logan was the big boss, because in the end of the day - Logan always won. They are still playing the same old game, and I’m worrying that it’s about to bring the same results it always brought, just from a different person.

Then again, obviously this show is very highly open to interpretations and I might possibly be giving a bit too much credit to Matsson (in the end of the day he might turn up to be a complete idiot, business-wise, although I doubt it), but that was my overall read on the last episode.

#roman roy #they have no fucking clue what they’re doing #especially ken and roman #i think they are all very clearly getting played by matsson #and its about to turn into a fucking bloodbath #where they stab each other and bring the whole family to ruins #succession #kendall roy #succession hbo #shiv roy #logan roy #lucas matsson #marta rumbles poetically

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boasamishipper · 11 months

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I feel so sick to my stomach after what that finale did to Nate, I think the entire show might be ruined for me forever. I can forgive a lot, and have given a lot of benefit of the doubt. I cannot do it anymore. My god, that was awful.

you and me both, nonny. i know a lot of people enjoyed nate's arc this season but it just did not sit right with me. like. even taking out the fact that the season's pacing was fucked in general, and that we spent more time with nate at a taste of athens than at west ham, and that we didn't get to see nate quit (we barely got to see him being a coach at all!!), and that after quitting nate wasn't shown getting any offers from other premier league teams (i don't necessarily mind that he waited tables in the interim, it wasn't like he needed the money and i can understand him wanting a break, but for god's sake the man was a fucking amazing coach!! yes rupert hired him to fuck with rebecca but nate is genuinely amazing at his job!! why didn't we get to see teams falling over themselves to hire him!!), and that for some fucking reason the fact that he was the one who leaked ted's panic attacks was just. never mentioned again by anyone, the full character regression we got in the series finale was just insane. okay sure nate is dating jade and played the violin again and his dad said he was a genius and now he's more confident in himself, whatever. but you mean to tell me that nate expected to be brought back on as the assistant kitman when beard told him to come back to richmond?? that's what the team decided when they said they wanted nate back?? that nate was fine with this?? that nate didn't bring up the fact that he was the one who leaked ted's panic attacks in his apology to ted?? that nate didn't get to give the team a pep talk (or give any advice to ted and beard and roy) before they played the team that he spent the last several months coaching?? that we didn't get to see nate roast the greyhounds (but more kindly this time) in a callback to 1.07?? that in the flash forwards, it was roy - whose idea of coaching is tying the players' dicks together - who became the manager of afc richmond, and not the man whose strategy from all the way back in season one won the greyhounds the match against west ham and resulted in the team getting the closest they have ever come to winning the whole fucking thing??

in the words of roy kent: fucking hell.

#ted lasso #ted lasso critical #nate shelley #the fact that we (and nick himself) have had to bend over backwards to justify some of the writing choices made this season is Not Good!#literally the one thing i did not want them to do was send nate back to richmond #the bar was on the ground and they tunneled beneath it with a spoon #if y'all DID love nate's arc this season then all the more love to you. i just did not and Above are my reasons why #to sum: i thought nick did an excellent job with what he was given #but what he was given Was Not Good #like we spent more time with higgins and will at that fucking jazz club than we did with nate some episodes.#(john mulaney voice) fucking WHAT #thanks for asking!

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lunar-years · 2 months

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obviously Jamie’s one of my fav characters so I’m biased, but I fully agree about his screentime in season 2. It’s jarring because SO much happens to him but they don’t flesh it out at all. he disappears into the shadows for episodes after he has a main character moment. This happens w his return to Richmond w Sam, the locker room breakdown with his dad, and his love confession to Keeley.. those are major life events! why was his only scene in 2.11 the dance scene??

yeah!! obviously i'm biased as well what with being a Jamie fangirl but I think they very much did his arc a disservice in s2. they don't give him enough screentime to flesh out ANY aspect of his arc, and the zero follow-up on Man City is still (imo) this show's Ultimate Biggest Sin.

To be quite honest the pacing in s2 is nearly as bad as it is in s3 to me, and I think its a combination of 1) giving the various s1 "main" cast drastically disproportionate amounts of screen time (the amount of screen time Roy for instance has in s2 in comparison to other characters is CRAZY and i say that as someone who very much loves Roy. think of what we could have had if the writers understood BALANCE) and 2) adding MORE characters to the main billing...Which I love in theory, but I think they could have done better.

Like, they sort of decided Sam was going to be the central player of focus for the season, which COULD have been amazing, I love Sam and I was thrilled he got more screentime!! But what we got was the Dubai Air plot (which similarly to Man City was something that should have made WAVES. There should have been residual damage from losing the team's main sponsor spanning several episodes, and instead it was a one and done) and...Sambecca? (which was like. Fine? I didn't hate them, I just thought it was a bit of a boring plot compared to well...everything else the season had going on. IMO this was nowhere near the most exciting place they could have taken either Sam or Rebecca's storylines). And all the other players were sidelined.

I think the perfect solution would have been to have spent time developing in s2 the close-knit Sam & Jamie friendship that we see having fully evolved by s3. give them screentime TOGETHER. I think Jamie's storyline suffers because they don't let him have any friends. He's just sort of one with the lads by the end, but we barely even get to see him struggle to form those connections. it's just one minute everyone hates him and the next everyone's buds! They should've developed Sam and Jamie by showing them learning to like one another. they should have given Jamie someone to TALK to, because that was what was sorely needed to flesh out and unpack some of the other stuff going on in his life. let him talk to Sam about being nervous about playing City! let him talk to Roy and Keeley after That Dad Scene!! Let them Connect!!!

Which leads into that I also think they should have started reconciling Roy & Jamie after Man City. Like, after that huge breakthrough moment i think it's crazy they go back to basically ignoring each other's existence the rest of the season apart from simmering Keeley jealousy and a (bad imo) headbutt. They should have more thoroughly planted the seeds in s2 for what they were going to continue in s3. they could also have let jamie and keeley actually talk and be friends. (this would have strengthened all three characters' s3 plots imo. the roykeeley issues were fun at first but became sort of...oh no not this again. more of the same! by the end).

#jamie tartt #asks #ted lasso #a jamie and sam friendship wouldve strengthened sam's individual arc as well i just focused on jamie here because that's Blorbo #but like i do have thoughts about the Sam end of it as well. (and again i think they should have done way more with the dubai air plot)

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abyssal-ali · 9 months

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Maribat Ships and My Vibe Explanations

These are based on the most popular tropes and scenarios I've seen particularly for a specific ship, but some are my own vision:) Moodboards I made for each ship, which are partially inspired by the below thoughts, are linked in the ship name.

Brucinette:

Boss x Secretary trope or Socialite meets Other Socialite and Both Discover each other is Less Shallow than they Thought

Alternatively,

Hero x Villain Love story.

Look, we all know Bruce has a bad track record with his Rogues and also Love in general

Black Cat Mari is the most popular, probably, but I think we should see more Villain/ Morally Grey Mari with other Miraculi

Not my favourite ship but it can be fun

Particularly when we add Dad Bruce and Mari gets to adopt the Batkids and be a Cool MomTM.

Dickinette:

Often a Villain x Hero romance, usually Black Cat Marinette and Nightwing.

A good trope to be sure, but I think we should spice it up more.

Vampire Dick Truthers (you know who you are) have a point with their Vampire Dick and Mari fics. Why not make Dick the villain in Mari's Rogue Gallery???

Overall a great trope, especially if you really delve into their characters: both are 'sunshine' characters who fight everyday to be the nice, kind heroes everyone thinks they are and expects them to be, even though it's the hardest route to take.

Jasonette:

(I'm biased as it's my #1 Maribat ship, but I'll try not to go on too long >.<)

Villain x Hero? Hero x Hero? Amazing, outstanding. What about Villain x Villain? I myself would love to see more Rogue Jason and Rogue Mari fics.

Any AU is amazing. I admit to having a fondness for Mob Boss Jason, partly because he is one in canon, at least for a while, and because I'm addicted to dark/mafia romance novels. Lieutenant Mari? Yes, please. Rival Mob Boss Mari? Heck yeah! Bat-affiliate Mari? Gimme. Please.

The amount of character exploration you could do if you wrote a romance where they actually stayed together, looking at you, DC is intriguing. Would Jason change for someone he loved? Would he give up crime lording? Would Mari accept him anyways but then they'd have to deal with one half running from the law/vigilantes and the other half being on the vigilantes' side?

Also, soft Jason. Nerding out over books and music and fashion and appreciating the fine things in life and meeting this cute fashion designer with a penchant to listen to Jagged Stone-

So many AU opportunities!! Bakery AU! Mafia AU! Coffee Shop AU! Meetcute at the Museum AU!...

Okay I'll move on now:(

Timari:

LISTEN

This ship IS THE DEFINITION OF THE CEO X SECRETARY TROPE!

I need more, I don't care if it's overused

Also, rival hackers or geniuses.

OR COFFEE SHOP AU

They're both coffee monsters, it's perfect

No I don't care that there are two dozen coffee shop Timari AUs, give me more.

Daminette:

ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS

Or just rivals to lovers is fine too

YOU REALLY THINK THESE TWO 'MUST BE THE TOP IN CLASS' WOULDN'T BE FIGHTING OVER GRADES AND THEN PAIRED UP ON AN ASSIGNMENT BECAUSE THEY'RE TOO INTENSE TO WORK WITH ANYONE ELSE AND THEN THEY HAVE TO WORK TOGETHER AT ALL TIMES LEST THE OTHER SABOTAGE THEIR PROJECT AND THEN THEY FALL IN LOVE-

anyways

I'm not even into HP but I want a Hogwarts AU with these two-

or any dark academia rivals to lovers au

Roynette:

Enemies or Rivals to Lovers

It's just a simple misunderstanding, as all large rifts start off with.

There's a translation issue or an eavesdropping that is taken out of context

(they're both idiots your honour)

But then something happens and they have to work together or they're made to talk and they realize it's all just a misunderstanding

And then they're like... " while we're clearing the air...so uh, I kinda have a crush on you'

"no way, me too!!"

And Mari meets Lian (or maybe that's what starts this, Jason and Mari are hanging out babysitting Lian and Roy comes to pick Lian up and they start talking and and and-)

And Mari loves Lian immediately of course, who wouldn't?

And so Roy likes her more because she likes Lian so automatically she's not as bad as he thought, and Lian really likes her too

And then they fall in love and Jason and Lian are the master matchmakers behind the scenes

You can pry OTP Jason & Lian setting up Roynette out of my cold dead hands

Konette:

I haven't seen or read a ton of Konette, but they usually meet at the Titans

Friends to Lovers 100%

They're both quiet and new and feeling out the dynamics

so they're often pushed together on purpose or by accident because the others are just so loud and chaotic

And then they become BFFs and are less inclined to join the others' chaos and so spend more time together, and so the cycle continues

And then one day something happens

Kon is Kryptonian and Mari had the Miraculous, they're usually the least-damaged members, but something happens, there's Kryptonite or magic or Something and one or both gets hurt.

The other jumps in front of them to take the blow because they can't let the other get hurt

"Why did you do that?!"

"I couldn't let you get hurt. You need to save our teammates."

Then the hurt one faints or passes out and the other confesses and thinks they can't hear them

They get back to the Tower safely and get treated and wake up and then they see the other

"Did you say you loved me, when I was passed out?"

"You heard that? Uh...yeah, I love you."

"I love you too!"

I haven't read much of any of the other ships to get a good feel on them, so I'm stopping here:)

#Hcs #DCxMLB #jasonette #dickinette #brucinette #daminette #timari #konette #roynette #TTT2023 #team: rare flair #team: java junkies #team: book design #team: spandex flex #team: pretty punk

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jon-cantlain · 1 month

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what is your opinion on each of the Wayne's?

oh that'll be good

bruce is a bit slow and i never understand what he's saying when he goes on about some rich stuff, but he's cool to my dad and always gives me candy

dick is awesome he always shows me cool tricks and acrobatics shit when I'm there and he knows all of my secrets, so if we ever stop being friends I'd have to wipe his memory

jason is cut off but in a good way, he's like the emotionally unavailable teenage sister i never had

tim is kind of annoying sometimes but he's a great friend when needed and is very smart and knows how to fix almost everything

damian is my best friend so of course I'll say he's amazing although sometimes he doesn't get my jokes and i gotta stand there waiting for him to just not laugh at all

cass is cool, she's all quiet but is very sweet and i know she'd beat anyone's ass if needed

steph is like that single aunt that's always around for the food and alcohol, but i like her she's fun

duke is chill, he always has some nice stuff to say and never gets mad at me for breaking his stuff. or maybe it's cause dick takes the blame every time

alfred is like that ancient creature that everyone knows is real but doesn't know why or how, so we'll obey him otherwise who knows what that old fella is capable of

conner is my stepbro but he's also dating tim so ig that makes him a wayne too. he's a jerk when he's awake, but he's still my bro and I'd do anything for him

bart is dating connor and tim and tbh idk much about him just that he always looks like a caffeinated squirrel

roy is cool but i get the feeling he's up to some criminal stuff like jaywalking

wally gotta be the most normal guy there, maybe one day I'll wake up and find out that he's a government agent undercover or something

barbara is not a wayne but shes always in the gd manor so she either works there as tech support or shes cursed to never leave

and now there's ric.. don't know him that much yet but he's with duke, so how bad can he be?

#jon kent lane #dc rp blog #jon kent rp #metropolis rp #dcu rp #jon kent #gothamite rp #alfred pennyworth #conner kent #dick grayson #bruce wayne #too many people to tag nvm

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mangoshorthand · 2 months

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Arrow of Time: Chapter 6 [Five Hargreeves/ F Reader]

(Hard Feelings Part 5)

SUMMARY: When the mother of all teenage tantrums causes time itself to fracture, Five has to travel back to 1831 to repair the damage. But will he be able to cope with what he finds there?

Chapter 7 (TBA) >> << Back to Chapter 5

At Reginald's party, Five sees and hears things he doesn't wish to.

Chapter 6: Selina

There was a moment of silence after Five disappeared where Lila, Diego, Luther and Aoife simultaneously seemed to feel that they’d seen him for the last time.

Lila stood braced, ready to mimic whatever Five sent through the tear, still pulsating and wavering where he’d been less than a minute before. Diego held out his hand to Aoife and she took it gladly. They stood side by side, watching Lila’s look of deep concentration. Tension laid thick upon the air, settling heavily on Aoife’s chest. She could feel the eyes of Reginald’s portrait on her like a searchlight. Just like his Number Five, she had failed in her experimentations with time travel and should have been kept from messing with things she didn’t understand. One Uncle’s hand squeezing hers and the others’ reassuring looks were the only thing stopping her descending into total freakout like her Dad had last week.

And then, Lila’s hands crackled with Five’s mimicked power. She grinned, showing all her teeth.

“There he is, just like he said he’d be! Ah, I’m starting to like that fucker!”

She absorbed and projected Five’s output in the same action: she could feel the connection across time; the link forged between them. She could feel the balance in whatever he was doing: the perfection, the peace-giving quality of it; the beauty in the numbers. It was …amazing.

“You ok, Lila?” Luther asked, concerned by her expression,

“Yeah…it’s just…” she grunted with the intensity of the feeling, “your brother’s really giving it to me here!”

Diego would have usually have been affronted at this genre of humor from Lila concerning any of his brothers but, for Aoife’s sake, he didn’t draw attention to the double entendre.

“If it’s not impertinent to say, this is an unusual suit. The breeches are extremely low on the waist and cut rather farther away from the leg than I’ve seen. And this coat is shorter than I’m used to: no tails whatsoever.”

Five stood on the tailor’s plinth, being measured for the new clothes by an apprentice while the tailor himself fingered his discarded jacket with a look of curiosity.

The room was lit by candlelight with the shutters drawn. Five had arrived in the tailors with only twenty minutes to spare before the business closed and had used a few choice words to one of the young men who told him that making an entire suit before the 9th would be an impossibility. When he’d offered them one hundred dollars if they could, (including supplying him with a quickly-fitted off the peg suit for daywear), they had become immediately more accommodating.

“The stitching is extremely fine. Where did you purchase this?”

“Paris,” Five said, smiling thinly, as he lifted his arm for the tape measure, “all the men there are wearing them- strolling up and down the Seine in their low cut breeches. It’s the new fashion.”

“I should think so. There was nothing of this nature on the latest fashion plates.”

While one apprentice measured his in-seam and scribbled the result down in a notebook, another handed him a coffee.

“Thanks,” said Five, gratefully.

“Have you given a thought to style, sir? I understand you’re attending a soiree at Le Roy Place but what will the evening include? Will there be dancing?”

“There is dancing, but I doubt I’ll be taking part. I just want to blend in: be dressed like everyone else.”

The tailor looked at him in obvious disapproval, “That seems to me like false modesty, sir, especially for one with his ear so close to the ground when it comes to Parisian fashion. Why shrink away from standing out? You’re still a young man with a handsome face and a fine person.”

“You flirt.” Five murmured into his coffee cup, unable to help himself.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Nothing. As long as I don’t stand out too much, I don’t care.”

The tailor strode over to the open cabinet where bolts of cloth were neatly stacked.

“Then I’d suggest a silk coat, perhaps in the sage green? I’d consider adding black velvet to the collar-”

Five nodded slightly impatiently.

“Then, for the waistcoat, a sprigged-”

“I honestly don’t care,” Five spoke over him, “dress my ‘fine person’ however you want. As long as I look normal.”

Over the days separating his arrival from the night of the party, Five fell into a slightly frenzied routine: his days were spent pounding the pavements between where he arrived and Le Roy Place, asking after a woman of your description at every establishment he passed and scouring the streets for any sign you might have left him. With the new casual suit to wear by day, he blended in much better with the upper crust of Manhattan. Despite this, he was wary of spending too long loitering around Le Roy Place: if he knew his father, he’d spot somebody repeatedly casing the area extremely quickly.

Once, he’d taken a hired carriage out towards where the Academy would be built in several decades time. It had been a wasted afternoon; all he could do was stare at buildings that would be demolished to make way for the city block that his father would come to own most of. He’d hoped you might leave a message here but there was nothing. None of the inhabitants of the surrounding apartments could tell him anything. As little as he wanted to, he was starting to pin all his hopes of finding you on this party.

The evenings were spent filling sheets and sheets of paper with expansions on his theory, trying to decide on the best practical approach to rebalancing time. He’d been back to the alley multiple times, trying to get a feel for how the land lay. He’s verified his theory as much as possible with minor, experimental projections, but something doesn’t feel right.

His brain niggles him about it on March 8th, when he sits with papers spread across a tavern table that could seat six. He’s considered everything from the disproval of Golbach’s conjecture on even numbers past the point of 4 × 10 18 to something as simple as performing simultaneous equations…but none of his ideas feel one hundred percent right.

On top of everything, he’s become irritable, even paranoid since arriving here. He finds himself conscious of having to exert more self control than usual not to snap at innocent people. No doubt, if you were here, you’d attribute it to the sudden lack of antidepressants in his system but he knows better: it’s entirely rational to be tense in this situation. You were always anxious about his mental health; always over-analyzing things. Apparently it’s rubbed off on him. The thought makes him roll his eyes. It’s an absurd idea: if he’s going through withdrawal then where are the physical symptoms?

When a woman saunters over to him, he’s focused on his calculations, ignoring a headache and trying to refrain from talking to himself.

“Buy me a drink, sir?”

He looks up, surprised.

“What, can’t buy your own drink?”

“I would have hoped for more gallantry from a man like you,” she remarked. He grunted and looked back down at his paper. Despite this clear rebuff, she sits down directly across from him and shifts his papers slightly.

“Perhaps I could buy myself a drink. It’s only that John behind the bar says you’ve got money to burn and you can’t blame a girl for trying her luck.”

Despite his short temper, he lets a short gust of laughter out through his nose. Her sheer cheek is charming. She’s a fairly young woman- perhaps early thirties. She’s blonde and blue eyed with hair in messy ringlets around her ears. The tavern’s inhabitants are certainly not part of the city’s upper crust and this woman is no exception: the dress she wears strikes him as rare in this era, as much in its almost candy-pink color as the way it exposes her shoulders as well as the shelf of her bosom. She has a bright green wrap, currently tied around her trim waist and her face is alight with impertinent mischief. He reaches into his pocket for coins and extracts a fifty cent piece, he hands it to her.

“Keep the change.”

With an approving little ‘hm!’, she trips off to the bar and he becomes again absorbed in mathematics. To him, it feels like seconds pass before she’s back sitting across from him again.

“You can call me Selina.”

“Mm-hm.” he says, disinterestedly, not looking up.

“And what am I to call you?”

“I don’t want you to call me anything,” he says, stiffly, shifting some of his papers away from her and stacking them on top of the others.

“I needn’t know your name, I suppose. ‘Sir’ does quite well enough.”

She falls silent for a few seconds while he continues to scribble, pausing only to add ink to the steel-nibbed pen.

“Will you be wanting company tonight sir?”

His pen pauses and he looks up, again taking in her appearance. Ah…he should have guessed.

“Um. No, no thank you.”

“If you’re sure, sir? This is the third night you’ve been here, they say, and all alone. That should make any man eager for company.”

“I’m married,” he murmurs, mouth slightly dry.

She lets out a trill of laughter like a tropical bird, “it’s not often a gentleman considers that a barrier!”

“Well I do,” he says, shortly, gathering his papers and standing up abruptly. “So thanks, but no thanks.”

“You a preacher?” she laughs.

“Far from it.” he says, with the ghost of an amused smile.

Well, you know where to find me if you happen to change your mind!” she calls, raising her voice ever so slightly to follow him up the stairs to his room.

At last, the evening of Reginald’s gathering arrived. He’d felt stupid almost as soon as he’d put on the party-appropriate outfit produced for him by the tailors. To be fair to that establishment, he always felt stupid in most clothes beyond his safe options. His day to day wardrobe included much more than plain suits now but it was still a long time before any new type of garment worked its way into his regular rotation. As a result, he was distinctly uncomfortable dressed up like some shitty community theater actor playing Mr Darcy.

The pants (or breeches, apparently) in a tan color sit so high on his waist that they feel only a few inches south of his nipples; the high collared shirt, cinched into place by a neckcloth, almost restricts his breathing. At least the tailcoat balances it all out and makes him look slightly less like a pigeon with severe constipation.

He arrives at almost nine, giving the party time to get into full swing before so that he can disappear more effectively into the crowd. He approaches Le Roy Place first from the front on Bleeker Street, confirming for sure which house was his father’s by candlelit windows and a flurry of carriages on the street in front. A bored-looking servant stands beside the door, clearly to check the invitations of any latecomers. His best option is to risk a blink inside and then to camouflage himself with the rest of the guests. Staying out of sight, he loops around to approach it from the back.

From the roof of the houses behind, he can see through the lit windows into the palatial residence. His eyes come to rest on what appears to be a games room on the first floor with billiards and card tables. He watches as the room’s only two occupants, (two laughing men,) leave together, one clapping the other on the back. Not willing to miss this chance, he blinks quickly into the deserted room.

He can already hear music and excited chatter from behind the room’s door. The newspaper article had said this was a gathering for a ‘select’ group of people, but judging by the noise and the number of carriages outside, the number of people must be into the early three figures. As he adjusts the lapel of his new jacket, a group of three men enter. He reciprocates their respectful bows and busies himself about the billiard table, giving himself a moment or two to regroup: to formulate a plan.

He’s here because it feels like he should be. He’s looking for any evidence of what his Dad might be doing here in the hope it might somehow lead him to you. Now he’s here, it seems such a vague hope: a stupid idea. He’d pinned all his hopes onto something and nothing.

“I see you come in good company tonight, eh?” says one of the men, suggestively, giving one of his companions a friendly elbow in the ribs, “while the cat’s away, the mice will play, eh?”

The large man he’s addressing chortles lasciviously. The sound catches Five’s full attention and he eyes him sidelong: he clearly doesn't fear sticking out like Five had. He’s an odd sight, looking almost exactly like an English bulldog, (his jowls sagging in an uncannily similar way), but dressed like an Indian bridegroom, draped head to toe in silks.

“I don’t know what you mean, Smyth,” he says, ironically.

“I admire your brazenness, I must say: thinking you can pass off your cook as your cousin! It’s quite an excellent show.”

The three men laugh, not even troubling to keep their voices down.

“And I’m sure I’ve seen that dress before. Didn’t your wife wear something like it to your birthday party last year?” more chortles fill the room, “did you think we wouldn’t notice, you old cad? It’s too much!”

“Oh, don’t worry yourself on that account,” the large man rumbles, clearly setting up a punchline, “I shall be taking that dress off her before this evening is over- why do you think I intend to leave so early?”

Five had all but stopped listening. Getting into his father’s study would be the priority, but first he needs to get the lay of the house.

As he crosses to the door, and a few other men enter, one of the men seated at the card table leaned in to his companions, finally lowering his voice.

“I’d bet she gives you quite the ride, you old dog.”

“That she does, though I can assure you there’s life in this old dog yet. She might say it is I who gives her the ride.”

Closing the door behind him, Five takes a drink from a servant passing with a tray and loses himself in the crowd. The first floor seems to sit on an upper-gallery, rather like the academy. When Five steps out of the games room, he finds himself looking down on the dancefloor below, where thirty two couples dance in eight sets of a dance he’d guess is a quadrille.

He strolls around the gallery, headed for the stairs and sipping his newly acquired wine. He hopes to be able to watch Reginald from a distance for a while, to be able to gauge a little bit about him. What age does this version appear to be? Before he risks getting caught snooping in the study, he wants to find out as much as possible by innocent means.

As the music changes and a new dance begins, he takes a glance down at the dancefloor and sees his father leading a woman by the hand onto the floor. Bingo.

His dad looks young, younger than Five had ever known him- their respective bodies (both contrasting wildly with what was within), have to be around the same physical age. He’s got a full head of hair and his face is unlined.

Reginald takes the woman into a ballroom hold and they begin to dance a waltz slightly unsteady on her part. When the dancers revolve, he doubletakes, hands gripping the balustrade.

There: you’re there, dancing and talking with his father. Relief rushes through his body, you’re here: safe and sound and looking just as beautiful as ever. His gratitude that he followed his instinct in coming here is intense: he wants to blink, to tear you out of his father’s arms and kiss every inch of you he can reach.

But he can’t: he can’t risk his father seeing his powers, (or really seeing him at all) and, until the dance is over and you’re out of Reginald’s eyeline, he can’t risk you seeing him either unless you accidentally draw attention to him. Instead, he just watches, heart fluttering like a lovesick teen. You’ve clearly fallen on your feet; here among all these rich people. He needn’t have worried, it seems. What the hell are you doing, throwing yourself in his father’s way? Looking for your husband, probably. Five smiles: you’re playing with fire and he finds it hard to disapprove.

You’re wearing a cream silk gown with elbow length puff-sleeves. His eyes are drawn instantly to your breasts, accentuated and pushed up by the empire waistline. They look as if they want to burst out of there. He finds himself trying and failing to not think about all the times he’s had the flesh of those breasts between his lips and teeth, all the times he’s pressed them together and…

He mentally shakes himself, trying to will the blood to stop rushing between his legs. Sure, it’s been a little while since you had sex but he’s not an animal. It must have been even longer for you. The thought gives him a little flutter of pity and anticipation: you must be missing him even more intensely than he has you. At least he’s had your company for his months of celibacy. Squinting at your face, he tries to discern your expression: he’s too far away to see for sure, but if he had to judge, he’d say you seem uncomfortable. Now, all he has to do is watch and wait.

He stands at the top of the stairs now sipping his wine contentedly. He doesn’t notice when the three men from the billiards room stroll past him, make their way down and rejoin the onlookers lining the walls. He watches until the dance is over: until his father bows and you curtsey in response. You both make your way off the dancefloor and rejoin the crowd: his father going one way, you going the other.

Trying not to draw attention to himself with his eagerness, he hurries down the stairs and in the direction you headed, uneasy that you’re no longer in his eyeline. He joins the throng and parts people easily with his determined steps. He cranes his neck over the top of many heads, trying to spot you again. It’s like you stepped off the dancefloor and just vanished. Fuck: he should have blinked. He should have screamed your name, he should have done anything to have his arms wrapped around you again, held tight against his chest where you belong.

He sees you and relief floods him again.

The front door stands open with you clearly about to leave. A large man with an umbrella escorts you outside. By the time he’s made his way to the front door, the man is helping you into a covered carriage, placing a hand briefly on your ass under the guise of helping you inside. When Five gets to the sidewalk, the guy turns around to take a final, satisfied look back at the house.

And Five freezes. It’s the bulldog from the billiards room: the white guy dressed in traditional Indian clothing, the guy who talked about coming to the party with his cook in his wife’s dress. The cook he boasted about fucking.

His legs have stopped working. He just stands there, rain soaking his hair and new suit. As the man climbs into the carriage and it pulls away, he can’t bring himself to blink inside and beat the guy to a bloody pulp. He’s soaked after only a few seconds, wet hair sending drips rolling down his cheeks.

A feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time spreads from his anchored legs upwards, like thorny pinpricks along the long bones. It’s rage.

So when he finally re-enters the tavern, soaking wet, his eyes immediately fall upon Selina sitting at the corner table.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88, @nevillescomslut

On to Chapter 7 (TBA) >> Masterpost

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