#like Batman’s over here with his meticulously thought out plan on how to take down an underground crime ring and marvel just goes

[apollo18]

#Billy batson #batman #Shazam #captain marvel dc #you can’t tell me it wouldn’t make Bruce so fucking mad when he interrupts league meetings to point out he has false info #like Batman’s over here with his meticulously thought out plan on how to take down an underground crime ring and marvel just goes #‘​:/ won’t work batman they got a tip off from an anonymous source’ #‘how do you know this?’ ‘I just do :)’ #batman dismissed it the first time bc it’s sounds stupid based on what he currently knows about marvel but the plan fails bc he’s RIGHT #batman trying desperately to glean something from him: ‘who was the source then?’ ‘fuck if I know’ ‘>:{‘

[mxtantrights]

The magic-spy and the bird

the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3

dick Grayson x f!reader

Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.

“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.

He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.” 

You made a face at him.

“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.

You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.

“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.

Jason nodded along with you. 

“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.

“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked. 

Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite. 

“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.” 

“What are you a fortune cookie?” 

“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.” 

2 DAYS LATER 

You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine. 

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”

Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.

You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.

“There she is!” he smiles.

Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.

You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.

You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.” 

“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.

You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.

“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.

You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.

“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.” 

Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.

“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.

“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.

“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.

He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”

“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.

Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”

“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”

“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.

Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.

“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.

You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.” 

“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.” 

“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”

EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER

You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.

After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.

You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you. 

“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.

You leaned against the hallway wall.

At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two. 

You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.

“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”

You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once. 

With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.

“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.

At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally. 

“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.

You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.

“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.

“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.

“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.

“Dont,” you started.

“No. We’re getting you out of there-”

“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.

Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19. 

Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him.  And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.

You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.

It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.

“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.

You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest. 

“Caliban?” you asked.

“You owe me double.”

4 DAYS LATER

When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.

You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.

“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.

It wakes everyone up.

Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.

“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.

“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.

Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.

“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.” 

You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”

You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.

“Hi.” you say.

His face softens, “Hi.”

“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.

With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”

You wince.

“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.” 

He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh. 

“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.

“He didn’t explicitly say that.” 

There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.

“What?” he asks.

“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.

The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.

He nods his head to himself. Twice.

“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door.  And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.

“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.

He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.

“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.

“it’s a date.” you answer.

#dc x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dc #nightwing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd x reader #Jason todd imagine

[ragingbookdragon]

Through Hoods, Through Lace, Through Hearts--We'll Find Our Healing PT.1

Jason Todd x Reader Story (Arkhamverse)

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I started playing Arkham Knight again and got inspired. Who woulda thought?? Enjoy! -Thorne

Gotham wasn’t exactly safe since Batman—or Bruce Wayne—had died. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it used to be now that Red Hood had moved in and started tackling the criminals Batman had left behind—permanently. Killer Moth had been the first and Roman Sionis was the second to go, and while Red Hood hadn’t outright claimed it, the leftover crew that hadn’t been pumped full of lead, had said that they saw the vigilante leaving, so it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. And it didn’t stop there.

Red Hood had started in on Penguin’s gang too. Now that Batman wasn’t around to stop the weapons and drug smuggling, it’d given the infamous gang leader a free ticket into Gotham. There were some reports about the neighboring vigilante Nightwing coming over from Blüdhaven to stop him. Rumor had it that someone said they even saw him and the Red Hood working together at one point, but it didn’t seem all to believable as the latter didn’t seem to be the partnering type.

That being said, with no one to stop him from killing all the criminals he wanted, a lot of the small-time fish got out of the business, not wanting to be met at the end of Red Hood’s handguns—it’s the exact reason she got out of the game. The money was good, and she was a damn good thief, but no amount of payout was worth her life. But somehow, trouble always managed to find her again.

***

Her file might’ve gotten deleted from GCPD’s database, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take the easy way down the street and risk an officer recognizing her. She stuck to the back alleys like usual, ignoring the catcalls and sleazy comments about her outfit, but still keeping her brass knuckles around her hand—could never be too careful in Gotham.

Working an honest job sucked in her opinion, and the only thing more humiliating than working at Super-Babes was the number of tips she was getting at the end of her shift. Maybe if she smiled and flirted a bit more, they’d give her a tenner instead of a fiver. She’d half a mind to shove that five down the asshole’s throat after he ran his hand up the back of her thigh, but she was lucky that Tony had been working the kitchen shift—watching him throw the guy out on his ass was payment enough.

Even if she was managing to scrape by, working a restaurant job was kicking her ass, and something deep inside her itched for one more heist, but with the Red Hood stalking the city, there was no way in hell that she was going to risk it. The man had a reputation for leaving bodies and shell cases, and she wasn’t going to be the former. No, she was working towards a better future, getting back on track, and even if she was waitress, she was doing a lot better than most of the old crew. Most of them had either joined up with Black Mask, in hindsight, a horrible error on their part, or gotten thrown back into lockup. She was lucky—she got out during the recovery of Gotham after the whole Scarecrow and Arkham Knight deal. But that didn’t stop them from sending her the occasional request of her skills. All they received was a big ‘fuck no and fuck you’.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). Finally tracked you down.” Speak of the devil.

“Alex,” she sighed heavily as she turned halfway, catching sight of her old partner—and old flame, but that wasn’t important. “Figured you would at some point.” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

Alex chuckled and leaned against the wall. “No need to be so touchy. I just wanted to talk.”

(Y/N) shook her head and hiked her purse higher onto her shoulder, fingers tightening around the brass knuckles in her pocket.

“If it’s not about my next shift at Super-Babes, I don’t give a rat’s ass what it is,” she countered, glaring at him.

“That’s where you’ve been working?” he questioned, but his tone gave way to the knowingness in his gaze. “Really?”

“Not like there’s anywhere else for ex-thieves to apply, Alex,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Employers are pretty meticulous when it comes to criminal records.”

“I’m not.”

She glowered at him. “I’m not interested in whatever you want me to do for you.”

“Even if you’ll get paid?” he suggested.

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask,” she sighed, eyes narrowing at the grin that split across his face. “What are you doing?”

Alex pulled out a file and walked up to her. “I knew you couldn’t resist a big payout.”

“Fuck you,” she grunted, swiping the manilla folder from him. “Shine a light for me.”

He pulled out his phone and flicked his flashlight on, watching as she read the papers, occasionally flipping the sheets.

All at once, she paused and gaped at him. “Wayne Manor?” She blinked. “You wanna `excavate Wayne Manor?”

Alex nodded and turned the flashlight off, stowing the phone back into his pocket. “Good plan, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) breathed in shock and lowered the folder. “Are you insane?”

“I’m failing to see your issue with this.”

“You want to excavate the home of a dead man. You really can’t see the issue with it?”

“That he’s dead?” Alex offered. “Technically that’s not graverobbing. He’s been dead for like a year and a half.”

(Y/N) turned and took a step. “That’s not the issue Alex!” She spun back around and hissed, “Bruce Wayne was Batman.”

“Keyword was. Not anymore.”

“I don’t give a shit. If Bruce Wayne was Batman, then there’s a very strong chance that there’s still defenses laid around the grounds.”

“In that pile of rubble? Not likely, but that’s why I need you to help me.”

“No,” (Y/N) declared. “I’m not going anywhere near that place.”

Alex let out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “And why not? You never really liked Batman. Didn’t he put you in jail once or twice?”

“Bruce Wayne was a good man that did his best to help this city whether he was dressed as Batman or not.” She affirmed. “He saved people, gave them jobs, helped them turn their lives around. No,” she shook her head. “I don’t want any part of this job, Alex. Now, later, or forever. I’m trying to do better, and you should too.”

Alex scoffed. “Oh please, getting tips for dressing like slutty Wonder Woman isn’t doing better (Y/N), and you know it.”

She ignored the insult and shrugged. “Maybe not, but I go to sleep at night knowing that I’m not going to get shot by Red Hood or some greedy gangbanger.”

At that, Alex paused and stared at her. “Are you really afraid of that prick?”

(Y/N) scowled. “That pricktook out Black Mask and his entire operation within twenty-four hoursthen immediately turned his attention on the rest of the scumbags in this city.” Taking a step towards him, she added, “He doesn’t break bones and leave you lying in pain like Batman did, Alex. He makes sure you don’t get up again. Ever. I’m not risking my neck for anything that’s stuck in Wayne’s basement.”

The man across from her was silent for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t sway you in any way?”

She yanked her hand out of her jacket pocket and flashed the knuckles around her hand. “I’d stop swaying and start running instead.”

Alex opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was, “Oh fuck!” then he spun around and hauled off like his ass was on fire.

(Y/N) stood there dumbfounded. Sure, she could be intimidating, but there was no way she was that scary. Instead of questioning it, she shrugged and shoved the folder into her skirt, then turned sharply on her heel to start on her way back to her apartment. Until she walked straight into someone’s chest.

She gasped as she stumbled backwards, knowing she was going to fall on her ass when strong hands grasped her upper arms, keeping her upright. (Y/N) looked up and met the very man she’d been talking about. Suddenly, Alex’s explicative and escape made perfect sense.

“Oh fuck!” she blurted out, and impulsively swung her knuckled fist at the jaw of his helmet. He caught her hand with an ease and spun her around, pressing her front up against the brick wall.

“Fuck me. Oh, fuck me,” she hissed, cursing herself for not telling Alex to stick it where the sun didn’t shine the second he found her. Now here she was about to get murdered by a trigger-happy vigilante with a grudge.

“Really? Right here? But someone could see us?” The humor in his tone drew a startled laugh from her and she pressed her cheek against the wall, so she could see him.

“I swear to God I don’t have anything to do with him. Fuck, I’ll tell you whatever you want about him and his plan if you don’t kill me.” (Y/N) sucked in a breath. “Please don’t kill me. I swear I stopped pulling heists after Halloween last year. I work a decent job. I keep my nose clean. I don’t get involved in that shit anymore. Please, God, don’t—”

“Will you stop talking for like ten seconds?” Red Hood griped, one hand leaving the grasp he had on her arms behind her back to feel around her middle.

“HEY!” she shouted, thrashing wildly. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

He pressed her harder to the wall. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you get your fucking hands out of my skirt your fucking pervert!” (Y/N) spat, leaning on one leg to kick at him with the other.

“All I want is what’s in your skirt,” he sighed and pressed one of his thighs against the one kicking him. “Christ,you’re a handful.”

“And you’re a fucking sicko!” she retorted indignantly. “Is this how you get your rocks off? Assaulting innocent women? You’re so fucking disgu—”

“Got it,” Red Hood declared, and yanked out the file she’d shoved in the side of her skirt. (Y/N) fell silent when he held it beside her head. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

She could tell he was smirking behind the red helmet and she scowled at him. “You’re fucked up, buddy.”

Shrugging, he flipped open the file and started reading. “Would’ve been easier if you hadn’t tried to run on me.”

“Well excuse me for thinking I was about to get murdered and having the initial instinct to haul ass.”

Red Hood chuckled at that, and despite how wrong the entire situation was, the low drawl made shivers go down her spine.

“Wanna tell me about your friend?” he coaxed and (Y/N) froze.

“He’s not my friend,” she suddenly protested. “I haven’t been around Alex since last year.”

“Really? You two seem fairly chummy.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to look at him. “We used to fuck when we worked together.”

“Mhm,” he hummed knowingly. “Lover’s spat then?”

Barking a laugh, she countered, “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She stared at him. “I got out when you started putting people down. Didn’t want to be a casualty.”

“That’ll do it,” he snickered. “So, you don’t know what Alex’s been up to since last year?”

“No, and I want it to stay that way, but he thinks that if he waves enough heists in my face, I’ll cave and run back to the money.” (Y/N) groaned and rested her head against the wall. “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, and I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with whatever that plan it. Honest to God.”

She gazed at him, feeling something akin to tears gathering in her vision, and pled, “Take the file. Hell, take all the money I’ve got in my purse if you want, just don’t kill me.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “Please, I’m begging you. I don’t wanna die now.”

Red Hood’s weight disappeared from her back and he murmured, “I’m not going to hurt you. I want the opposite in fact.” The honesty in his words made her body feel weak and her knees started to go out beneath her. “And there she goes.” He caught her before she fell.

Gently lowering her to the ground, he helped her sit against the wall. (Y/N) leaned her head back and let out a long sigh.

“Oh, thank God.”

He laughed. “Life flashing before your eyes?”

She gave a half-hearted smile. “You’ve got no idea.”

This time when he laughed, it was dark, and it made her stomach churn. “Actually, I do.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, then he knelt in front of her, handing her purse back to her.

“Here.”

(Y/N) took it with a nod and stared at him. “So, what happens now?”

He was quiet for a moment, then he waved the file. “I go stop your friends from digging around Batman’s home.”

“Good luck,” she replied, starting to her feet when he tutted.

“Ah-ah-ah.” He motioned for her to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.”

She grunted at him. “What do you want?”

“Information on your friends.”

(Y/N) felt her brows furrow. “Can’t you find that out yourself?”

Red Hood shrugged. “I could, but I’m always looking to make my job easier.” He observed her for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills.

Waving it in front of her, he said, “You tell me what you used to do for them and what all they’ve got going on, and you can have this.”

(Y/N)’s jaw went tight as she stared at the roll. That could pay rent and bills for at least two months. She needed the money. Her eyes darted to the mask and she swiped for the roll, but he raised it out of her reach.

“Nope,” he ribbed. “Info first.”

“Ass,” she grumbled, but conceded with a sigh. “Fine. Have it your way.” (Y/N) clambered to her feet and dusted off her tacky skirt, watching as he did the same.

“Follow me to my apartment.” Before he could say a word, she thrust a finger into his chest. “And do it from the rooftops so people don’t see you.” Her face set in a glare. “I don’t need any unwanted guests trying to get in because they saw you following me.”

She started off when Red Hood grabbed her forearm, not harshly, but firm enough to make her stop and stare at him questioningly.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked, not expecting that. “It’s (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

He nodded. “And what did they call you when you worked as a thief?”

(Y/N) huffed. “Not everyone has an alias, Red Hood.”

Chuckling, he retorted, “Yeah, but someone as pretty as you no doubt had one.”

She felt her stomach flutter at his flirt and her cheeks warmed as she looked away and replied, “They used to call me, ‘The Lady in Lace’.”

“The Lady in Lace?” he repeated, then stood next to her and pulled out a grappling gun. “Have a matching outfit, Lady Lace?”

(Y/N) shoved him in the side. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I think I’d rather see,” Red Hood flirted and pressed the button, shooting off towards the roof of the building.

It was gonna be a long night.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #dc comics #dc imagine #dc imagines #batman arkham knight #arkham knight #arkhamverse

[flyingkiki]

A Very Merry Christmas (4/4)

We're ending this little series with a steamy little Christmas celebration for our favorite little birbs. Thank you all for following this series. I had a lot of fun writing this story.

Chapter Three of A Very Merry Christmas is here.

I'll focus on a few other TimRae projects and finishing a few other stories. Would you be interested in an AU?

Here's a steamy Christmas celebration, my loves!

~~~

Christmas dinner was a sin, really. It was the most delicious meal Raven ever had in her lifetime – Alfred truly did wonders in the kitchen. She still silently marveled at the normalcy of the Wayne family celebrating Christmas with a Christmas ham, creamy mashed potatoes, and array of vegetable dishes and sides, and a delirious amount of desserts. It felt strange to watch Bruce Wayne carve into the ham and gingerly place a rather large slice of ham on an annoyed Jason’s plate. The emotions in the room were strange – hurt still bubbled low and raw underneath the surface, but there was a level of protectiveness, forgiveness and care she could feel all at once with the family.

While everyone was still full and dutifully placing dishes into the dishwasher (“Alfie should not wash dishes, you little shits,”), Raven, Cass and Alfred carefully portioned off leftovers into containers for everyone to take home tomorrow.

The house smelled like Christmas as Cass steered her back into the sitting room where the large Christmas tree was bright and warm. If she blinked, Raven thought she was in an old Christmas movie as she watched Dick and Bruce settle a few more gifts under the Christmas tree. Their movements ruffled a few sprigs of the tree and Raven could smell the fresh scent of pine.

“Presents time,” Cass whispered into her ear and pushed her into the plush rug next to Tim, who easily caught Raven by the elbow and helped her settle in next to him. Cass pushed a plate stacked high with desserts into Raven’s hands, “Eat,” before bounding up to the couch to settle next to Bruce.

Raven stared at the gingerbread men and colorful thumbprint cookies warily before shooting Tim wry smile. “This is so much food,” she whispered to him, while watching Tim chuckle and pluck a colorful peanut butter Christmas cookie, his favorite, off her plate. Alfred had taught her how to make them, which thankfully turned out passable by Alfred’s standards. Tim didn’t seem to mind the burnt edges.

“We’re growing superheroes, we need our calories,” Tim said teasingly before quickly devouring the cookie.

Raven leaned into Tim, pressing into his side as they settled comfortably against each other. Curling her legs under her and feeling just a tiny bit drowsy from all the food, she carefully balanced the plate on her lap. “I don’t think I’ll fit into my uniform after all of this,” Raven breathed in resignation and took a careful bite out of a gingerbread Batman.

Tim made a dismissive sound and grabbed another peanut butter cookie while the rest of the family was busy pouring themselves glasses of eggnog and hot cocoa. “I definitely do not mind you out of your uniform,” he whispered discretely into her ear, earning a blush and exasperated eyeroll from Raven.

“Shut up,” she shoved Tim lightly, and she smiled at his amused chuckle as he plucked another cookie from her plate and crawled towards the large coffee table to grab them some hot eggnog. He carefully crawled back to her, half a cookie in his mouth, balancing two glass mugs of eggnog in his hands. Raven accepted the small glass mug and took a careful sit and immediately felt the warm rush of alcohol and spicy, creamy sweetness coat her tongue. Delicious.

“Okay, presents!” Dick announced after Alfred finally joined the family, not after depositing a large Christmas log on the table much to everyone’s delight. Bruce dove right in and began handing out slices.

Raven settled back and watched in a mixture of fascination and amusement as everyone eagerly handed out gifts. Bruce received a Green Lantern shirt from Jason, much to his chagrin. Damian received a new easel stand from Bruce. Jason got a new holster with tech upgrades from Tim. New ballet shoes for Cass from Dick. Alfred received some incredibly fancy pair of gloves from Damian. Dick chuckled in amusement at the Hufflepuff scarf he received from Cass (Both Dick and Cass seemed to have taken quite a liking towards Harry Potter).

There were more gifts that were passed around and opened and Raven took great pleasure to take in the domesticity of the scene in front of her. She ignored how her stomach leaped and warmed at the occasional ‘Thank You’ and the hug she received from Cass for the ballet tickets (“We can go together!”). She still was not entirely used to having this kind of doting attention directed towards her. This year she and Tim signed the tags of all the gifts for the rest of the Wayne brood with their names together. It was a surreal act, a first in their relationship (since last year they just kept to themselves), making this feeling of inclusion into this little bubble very real. She watched as Damian carefully unwrapped the silvery wrapper of their gift for him, her gaze briefly catching sight of the familiar tag she and Tim meticulously cut out and signed. She felt her heart leap briefly and marveled how a simple strip of paper could affect her.

They gifted Damian with leatherbound sketchpad and graphite pencils which Tim had carefully picked out for the younger boy. She watched as the corners of Damian’s lips curled slightly into a smile as he lifted the large sketchpad and inspected the lettering of Damian Wayne carefully pressed into the leather. She knew that Tim and Damian were not always at best terms, but Tim still was very thoughtful of his younger brother’s interests.

“Thank you, Raven, son,” Bruce smiled kindly over at the couple, holding up a large leather satchel. Tim had mentioned that Bruce needed a new bag for work, so he and Raven tried to find one and worked on customizing it with a few more hidden panels and locks.

“Welcome, B,” Tim beamed and quickly went through the codes and panels with the older man.

Raven was busy making plans with Cass to catch a performance at the New York City Ballet Company for their Spring season with the promise to use a portal to pick the younger woman up in Gotham. Tim returned and sat down next to her and gently pressed a small present into her lap.

“Oh,” Raven looked at the small red package in surprise. She caught Tim’s bemused smile and playfully rolled her eyes. “Wait, let me get yours,” she said and hurried towards the tree and grabbed the medium-sized gift. “Here,” she offered him a stern look. “Don’t shake it,”

“What is it?”

Raven settled next to him and placed her own gift into her lap, curiosity piquing slightly at what could be in the box. “Just open it,” she nudged him gently while watching his fingers pull at the ribbon and meticulously unwrap the giftwrap.

“Oh,” Tim pulled out a Sigma camera lens from the box. He blinked and stared at the new model, surprised at the gift. They briefly talked about getting new lenses for his camera a few months back, Tim was touched that she even remembered that conversation. “This isn’t even out on the market yet,” Tim marveled.

Raven shrugged and smiled mischievously. “I have my ways,”

Tim carefully returned the lens into its box. Leaning in he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, Rae,”

Raven hummed, a warm blush dusting her cheeks, and she ducked her head. Focusing on her gift, she unwrapped the gift carefully and stared curiously at the grey box. Carefully lifting the lid, a small smile spread across her lips as she stared at the little note she found on top of a pair of very fuzzy blue socks. ‘For your cold feet.’

She released a soft huff of laughter and pulled out the impossibly soft and fuzzy socks. She shot an amused look at Tim, who quickly returned hers with a familiar boyish grin of his own. Pushing aside the colorful box stuffing, she pulled out a portable mug heater and a beautiful kabuki mask from his last trip to Japan.

“Thanks, Tim,” she pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek.

“There’s one more,” Tim gentled nudged her shoulder, prompting her to look back into her gift box and rummage through colorful paper before fishing out a small velvet pouch. She cast Tim a curious glance, before turning back to the little pouch and carefully opening it. Turning it upside down, she knew it was jewelry when she felt the light weight of a chain slide down the pouch and drop into her hand. “Tim,” she breathed.

It was gold necklace with a little bird in flight pendant. The pendant looked delicate and finely made, Raven could see the details of feathers on the little bird’s outstretched wings. The little pendant slid down her palm as she shifted her hand in the warm light, the delicate weight of the necklace tickling her palm. She never really thought much of jewelry, but her heart warmed at the thoughtfulness of the gift.

“Do you like it?” Tim asked carefully, leaning into her space, and gaging her reaction. He knew that he shouldn’t be all too worried over her not liking the gift, he already knew that she appreciated small tokens and trinkets. Early on into the relationship Tim learned that Raven did not seem to care over expensive and lavish things, but she enjoyed simple treats and gifts from his business travels and missions. She did the same by bringing rocks or other strange trinkets from her off-earth missions. Yet the little golden necklace seemed to unwittingly rattle him just a little bit, he thought.

Raven smiled and nodded. “It’s pretty,” she mumbled, careful to keep the little conversation between them as the rest of the Bat family busied themselves with their own presents and conversations. Leaning into his space, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You shouldn’t have,”

“Well,” Tim chuckled and took the necklace out of her hand and gently pushed her shoulder to turn her around for him to put the necklace around her neck. “I would have wanted to get a bat pendant, but that would have been weird,”

Raven released a huff of laughter as she pushed her hair out of the way and allowed Tim to fasten the necklace around her neck. The little gold bird settled against her red reindeer sweater. Absently fingering the little pendant, before turning back to Tim to show him how it looked. She smiled as she watched him beam at her, blue eyes bright in mirth. He looked happy and content, bathed in the warm Christmas lights and wrapped up in his dorky Festivus Christmas sweater. Raven’s heart warmed at the sight, the Tim she met so many years ago was so different – much darker, and she enjoyed seeing this new light in him. Leaning in, she kissed Tim. “I love you, you dork,”

Tim hummed and offered a mumbled ‘I love you’ back before gathering her into his arms for a quick hug. Aware of others around them and the curious glances they shot their way, he released her and pressed a quick kiss to her temple before they settled next to each other. While Raven busied herself with Cass, Tim caught Bruce staring at them, his gaze warm and there was a small smile on the older man’s lips. Tim felt a little flustered at being watched but felt relieved to find himself in a better place with Bruce and the rest of the family. Offering the older man a small smile, Tim was glad that he and Raven decided to spend Christmas together with the family.

“We should take a family picture,” Dick announced, his Gryffindor scarf clashing terribly with his cat Christmas sweater. There was a loud cacophony of agreements and grumbles (“So many dramatics, dickface”) as Dick herded people to the small couch by the Christmas tree and had everyone settle around Bruce and Alfred.

Raven blinked, suddenly unsure where to place herself in the middle of people moving around the living room for the family picture. She awkwardly stood up and made a grab for Tim’s camera. “I’ll take the picture –”

“No!” Cass jumped to her knees and stopped Raven from picking up the camera from the table. “You sit with us,”

Raven felt heat rush to her cheeks at the invitation. “But I –”

“You’re one of us now,” Dick chirped from his perch on the couch’s armrest. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind Alfred and he smiled warmly at Raven.

“Sit,” Tim mumbled warmly into her ear, gently pushing her lower back towards the couch. He easily caught on her sudden discomfort, catching the way her brows drew together in worry. Smiling gently, he gave her another gentle push before he took the camera and worked on setting up the tripod and timer.

“Come sit with us, Raven,” Bruce said while wrapping an arm around Damian next to him. Bruce easily caught her flustered glance and tilted his head towards the side where Cass had settled down next to the Christmas tree.

Raven tried to hide her surprise and embarrassment as she ducked her head and hurried to sit down next to Cass by the foot of the Christmas tree. You’re one of us now settled low in her stomach and surprisingly sent warm jolts up her spine – she had not expected that invitation. She felt Cass’ hand wrap around hers and she looked up at the younger woman in surprise. Cass offered her an encouraging smile and nudged her shoulder. Raven offered a small one in return as she allowed these new feelings to settle in.

“Hurry up, Timbers. Let’s get it done within this year’s Christmas maybe?” Jason’s annoyed voice drifted through the living room and Raven listened to Cass giggle next to her. “My hot eggnog is getting cold, and I’d like it warm, thank you very much.”

“Hold on, one sec,” Tim mumbled. He was busy tinkering with the camera settings, making sure that the lighting was perfect, and the exposure was just right. After making sure that everyone was in frame, Tim pulled out his camera remote. “Okay, got it.”

Hurrying towards Raven and Cass, Tim settled down on the floor next to Raven and gave her gentle smile. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to his side, he squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. “Okay, everyone. On three, smile. One, two, three!”

“Wait now? Or on three? Or after?”

“On three, Dickface!”

“Boys!”

“Three!”

As the sounds of the camera shutter filled the room, Raven smiled and leaned into Tim. Whatever discomforts and flustered feelings she may have had early on, seemed to have slowly dissipated – like a weight she had been carrying on her shoulders had lifted. She belonged. Leaning into Tim more and feeling his arm just tighten a little bit more around her, Raven basked in the warmth of belonging.

The picture turned out great.

~

They all settled into their own rooms later that evening after everyone had their fill of eggnog, hot cocoa, and the Christmas Yule Log was miraculously eaten up. (“When you raise boys, leftovers are rare,” Bruce told Raven with a chuckle) A round of ‘Merry Christmas’ filled the living room followed by amusingly stiff yet warm hugs among the men (except for Alfred, who warmly hugged his brood) and a promise of Christmas leftovers for breakfast for everyone.

Raven and Tim silently shuffled back to their room carrying their gifts. Raven was surprised she even received gifts that evening considering that none of them even knew that she would be coming. The cashmere scarf from Alfred was beautiful (“I wasn’t sure who Master Tim would bring, but I would think every young woman would need a beautiful scarf”) and the Christmas-themed Batman sweater was funny (“We didn’t know who you were,” Dick shrugged apologetically). Bruce gifted her with a first edition Mark Twain book, undoubtedly pulled out of his personal library, but she loved it. (“You’re welcome to come and visit the library, or our home, anytime.”). Damian surprised both Tim and her when he silently offered them a thick rolled up paper before scurrying back to Bruce’s side and stuffing his face with cookies. When she and Tim unfurled the paper, they were surprised to see a beautifully drawn pencil drawing of both of them asleep and curled up into each other in one of the many sitting rooms of the house. It was beautiful.

Just as they carefully deposited all their gifts on Tim’s study table, Raven heard a little huff and scuffle by their door. Titus’ head peaked through the open door, obviously on his way to Damian’s room down the hall. The large dog whined, begging for Raven’s attention. Leaving Tim to change and get ready for bed, Raven released a soft chuckle and went over to the large dog.

“Hey boy,” she whispered and knelt to offer some scratches. Titus huffed loudly and promptly plopped down on the floor and rolled onto his back for some belly rubs. Raven eagerly complied, rubbing the dog’s soft fur.

Raven chuckled as Titus gave a low huff and whine as she scratched just the right spot. She heard Tim move in the background and slowly appear next to her, watching them in amusement. “Titus is going to miss you,” Tim chuckled while rubbing his face with a towel.

Raven hummed and she briefly looked up at Tim, noting that he had already changed for bed. Taking that it was her turn to get ready, she gave Titus one last pat on the belly and finally stood up. “I’ll miss him too, but not his sheer force of a dog,” she said with a small smile and stood up. They both watched Titus whine and get to his feet, watching Raven curiously. With a sneeze and a huff, he sat by their door. “Night, boy,” Raven gently patted the dog on his head before gently nudging Titus out the door and closing and locking it.

Pressing a kiss to Tim’s temple, she slowly shuffled off towards the bathroom to wash her hands and get ready for bed. She could hear Tim climb into bed and tinker with his phone as she heard the distinct tapping of keys, she was sure that Tim was busy checking emails and some work-related project from WE. She could feel the gentle push of his stress and it was a little surreal how well she knew Tim. While admittedly, there was still so much to learn from each other, Raven oddly caught herself surprised at how well they complemented each other despite the physical distance between them at times.

Despite her earlier hesitations of coming to meet Tim’s family officially, Raven was glad they made this trip. She understood his hurt a little bit better. She got a glimpse of how much he cared for his family, despite the tension that often bubbled low beneath the surface. She understood and saw Tim more, a rawness she was privileged to see, and her heart unconsciously warmed to have shared those moments with him.

Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas’ crooned softly from the bedroom and Raven smiled. Feeling warm and full, Raven was glad she was here with Tim. She silently hoped for more of this. These quiet, raw, moments between them. Funny how she now found herself wanting this kind of raw intimacy.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Raven stripped down to her underwear – thankfully a matching lacy black pair. Not bothering to change just yet, she slipped out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe as she listened to Sinatra’s voice and watched Tim frown at his phone screen.

“I’m not sure Frank Sinatra will appreciate you frowning so furiously at his singing,” Raven teased, while playfully crossing her arms.

“There’s just a report –” Tim paused and openly stared at her figure, drinking in the black lace. “Oh,” He sat up, leaning against the headboard and watched her move towards the bed with piqued interest. “Hey,”

“Through the years we all will be together…”

Raven released a soft chuckle. “Hey,” she replied, lips curling every so lightly as she felt the familiar press of desire and attraction press against her. Drinking in his own boyish grin and the way his muscles rippled as he carefully placed his phone on the nightstand while not breaking eye contact with her had her own desires pool low in her stomach.

“Merry Christmas,” Tim said as Raven reached his side of the bed.

Raven hummed playfully. “Merry Christmas,” she replied and climbed into his lap, Tim’s hands immediately settling on her thighs as she sat down.

Tim grinned up at her boyishly and ran his hands up her thighs and over the swell of her hips. Fingers teasingly hooked into the sides of her lacy underwear and his lips curled further into a smile as he caught her amused stare. “May I unwrap my Christmas present?”

Raven released a thoughtful hum and ignored his fingers press into her hips. Leaning over him, she instead slipped her hands underneath his grey shirt and teasingly tugged it up his body while pressing a kiss to his neck. “I was hoping I could unwrap mine?” she mumbled into the underside of his chin as she pressed her body into him and felt his hands splay over her hips and butt. She tugged at his shirt once more and they fumbled to remove it while Raven lay over him.

They kissed languidly, both basking in a warm Christmas glow that settled low in their abdomens and left warm tingles up their bodies. Fingers were needy and gentle as they pressed into familiar curves and scars.

Raven felt nimble fingers run up her back and make quick work to unfasten her bra as she kissed him deeply. With a soft inhale, Raven sat up on Tim’s lap and allowed the garment the slide down her shoulders. Raven raised an eyebrow playfully as she caught Tim’s heated gaze, watching her remove her bra and drop in on the floor. For good measure, she teasingly rocked her hips into him as she felt his erection press against the apex of her own growing need.

Inhaling sharply at the steady rocking of her hips, Tim’s fingers dug into her hips and slowly slid up her waist for a steady trek up her chest. “Definitely the best Christmas, I must say,” Tim announced, hooded eyes eagerly drinking in Raven’s naked form.

Raven teasingly raised an eyebrow and ran her hands down his abdomen, watching in satisfaction as the muscles contracted in contact. She hooked her fingers into his sweatpants. “I still need to finish unwarp—”

Titus’ loud snuffling interrupted them as he sniffed the bottom of their bedroom door. Raven paused, lips lifted into an amused smile, and they both curiously watched as the silhouette of a large nose danced across the small crack at the bottom of their door. There was a low whine and a lot louder snuffling.

Tim shot an annoyed-amused look at this door. “Go away, Titus. You’re killing our Kinky Christmas mood,” he said, which of course did not achieve anything with the silencing charm still in place in the room.

Raven chuckled. With a little spark of magic that danced through the crack, Titus released a loud huff, before scurrying away from their bedroom door. With purple eyes dancing in amusement, she turned back to an equally amused Tim. “We should get a pet,” she said, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully and she regarded Tim’s surprised expression.

Tim blinked, surprised at the announcement. Scooting further up against his pillows to sit up better, he dragged Raven closer to him on his lap. The pads of his fingers pressed into her waist. “A pet?” he repeated, curious at this sudden announcement.

“Yes, a pet. An animal,” Raven rolled her eyes and squeezed his left forearm playfully.

Tim paused, gaging where this was going. He watched Raven curiously, waiting for her to explain but she seemed to wait patiently wait for his reply. He blinked. “Uh, okay? But we’re rarely together as often as we’d like in one location. So maybe a,” Tim paused and drew his eyebrows together. “A fish?”

Raven released a soft huff of laughter. “I’m pretty sure a fish needs just as much care as any other animal,” Her gaze softened a little bit as she took in Tim’s curious look and the corners of her lips curled up. “You always said you’d like a cat and I thought we could get one together?”

Tim’s chest warmed at Raven’s explanation. She remembered their conversations of wanting to own a cat as a child but never having been able to. Tim smiled warmly up at Raven, as a rush of emotions spread across his chest. It was always so easy to remind himself why he loved Raven because of her simple acts of kindness and thoughtfulness. “I’d like that,” he said. Curious, he pressed on. “So, it moves around with us? A few months in Gotham and Jump at a time? How do we –”

“I could be more in Gotham,” Raven cut in, tilting her head thoughtfully as she looked down at him.

“Oh,” Tim breathed, as realization slowly dawned on him. A pet – something they’d share together, the feeling of permanence bubbled low underneath his skin and the thought left him just a little bit breathless. “More time in Gotham?” he repeated, sounding terribly like an old record, but he needed to confirm what he was hearing and what it meant.

The corner of Raven’s lips lifted slightly, and she shifted in his lap as Tim sat up fully to lean against the headboard. Fingers pressed into the dips of her waist, and she felt a blush spread across her cheeks and neck as she felt his warm press of emotions against her – want, love, happiness.

“Yeah,” she replied and absently traced an old scar along Tim’s right forearm. “I’ve been thinking of getting a degree at Gotham University, have a life more outside of the Titans,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “I’d still help where I can, but –” Raven blinked thoughtfully and stared at Tim. “I’d like to have a life as Rachel as well,”

Raven watched as a smile grew on Tim’s lips. She returned his smile, her own emotions a whirlwind in her chest as she thought of the different prospects of the future. “That’s an excellent plan,” breathed Tim, eyes shining and his grin wide with excitement and happiness.

“Yeah?” Raven asked, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. They occasionally talked of the future and their current arrangements, but her plans offered unspoken possibilities they both seemed eager to explore. “That is, if Batman is okay with having a half-demon resident in Gotham?”

“Fuck Batman,” Tim huffed and pressed forward to kiss Raven, muffling her bark of laughter. Pulling away from the kiss, he smiled “So, a cat?”

“We should look at shelters,”

In a rush of emotions, Tim kissed her again. The promise of so much more between them seemed to teasingly dance in front of them and he was eager to take what he could get. He felt Raven hum and melt into the kiss, leaning deeper into his embrace.

“I love you,” he breathed after finally pulling away and gently pressing another kiss to the corner of her lips. Basking in the joy of the moment and the unspoken promise of what lay ahead for them, a cat and so much more, Tim pulled away and carefully leaned towards his bedside table. “I have another Christmas gift,” he announced and with unusually clumsy fingers, he pulled the small item out of the bedside drawer.

Raven’s brows furrowed as she curiously watched Tim blindly fumble through the items in his drawer. She kept her balance on Tim’s lap, as he twisted and tried to keep his balance over the edge of his bed as he rummaged through the drawer. “Here,” Tim announced and turned back to her a little too quickly, eager to present to her what he pulled out of the depths of his drawer.

“What – oh!” Raven felt her heart stutter to a halt and her breath was knocked out of her lungs. She stared at the small black box in front of her with a wild mix of emotions. She blinked, wondering perhaps she was seeing things, but yes – the little black box was there. Her heart jumped into her throat. “Tim.”

Tim blinked at her tone and jumped as his own thoughts and stray emotions seemed to catch up with him. “It’s --- ah,” he breathed, and Tim was sure he could barely hear his own thoughts over how loud his heart was hammering in his chest. He shifted in bed, bringing Raven closer to him. Her eyes were wide, staring at the little box in his hand.

“It’s not an engagement ring,” Tim quickly explained, catching the panic and surprise that crossed her face. “I --- ah, yet.” He quickly added, heart beating like mad in his chest and he watched in relief as Raven released a soft huff of laughter and the confusion on her face disappeared.

He pressed the little box into her hands with a nervous laugh. “It’s not an engagement ring,” he repeated and offered her a small reassuring smile. “Yet – we didn’t talk about that. But --- yeah,” Tim wrapped her fingers around the small box and held her hands. “It’s just a ring I thought you might like,”

There was an inexplicable warmth that spread through Raven at the unspoken promise of something deeper. They had never really talked about how their future may look like – their work offering little stable foundation to a permanent future. But this tonight – these little promises and pictures of what may potentially be ahead of them painted a much clearer picture of the future for the two of them. It left Raven breathless. They were getting a cat, together, and they had this now – this little warm bubble they shared.

“Oh,” Raven opened the box and stared at the silver infinity knot ring perched in the velvet case.

“I thought you might like it,” Tim explained gently, taking in Raven’s surprised reaction. “I just – I like this, us, and everything we have together. It was a dangerous mission, but Lisbon and getting shot and getting paired with you was incredibly lucky for me – well, minus getting shot and losing a lot of blood, but,” Tim shrugged and watched as Raven chuckled softly. “I’m so lucky to be with you, and I honestly don’t think I deserve you or everything that you’ve given me. You’re the kindest, most loving person I know. The last year has been incredible and yeah --- I want more of this. These moments of us together, it’s been incredible. I love you, Rae,” Tim felt his stomach twist and he smiled gently at Raven. “I’d really like that cat with you,”

Raven laughed; eyes filled with unshed tears. “I love you too,” she breathed and dipped down for a deep kiss he eagerly responded to. There was a jumble of emotions that seemed to catch up on her – she honestly wasn’t quite sure if they were hers or Tim’s, but the feelings were pleasant, and she was in no rush to dissect them.

She pulled away when air became scarce and a deeper hunger pressed into her as their hips slowly rocked into each other and fingers pressed into the dips of her ribcage and brushed just under the swell of her breasts, a reminder of their nakedness. Sitting upright under Tim’s watchful gaze, she pulled the ring out of its box and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Looking down at Tim’s face, she quirked her lips up teasingly. “Are you sure you didn’t just propose?”

Tim laughed and leaned forward to press a kiss onto her cheek, he felt her grin widen. “I want you to be my cat partner,” he teased and ran his hand down her bare back, enjoying how her warm skin felt against his hands. There was a little window that offered a little glimmer of being more than just cat parents that they both seemed to acknowledge but they did not bother to speak about – yet. “Besides,” he mumbled against the underside of her chin and teasingly ran his hand over her waist. “I’d rather propose somewhere else, not with a 200-pound dog standing guard outside our door and the rest of my family in the house,”

Tim flipped them over, Raven released a soft laugh as she was pressed into their bed and Tim hovered over her with a teasing smirk. Fingers teasingly hooked into the waistband of her underwear and he grinned boyishly at her, long hair falling into his eyes as they twinkled playfully. “And I’d like us to celebrate very loudly all over our apartment and not worry over nosy neighbors,” he said and playfully tugged at her panties. Pressing down for a breath-stealing kiss, Tim nipped at her lower lips and pulled his body flush against hers and gently started to tug her panties down. “For now, we celebrate us being cat parents. I’m going to unwrap my Christmas gift,”

“Yes,”

With a final tug, black lacy panties were thrown off their bed and Tim quickly dipped his head between her legs, tongue eagerly licking wet folds and burying into an addictive warmth. Raven gasped loudly, back arching off the bed, just as hot electricity shot through her body and desires pooled low in her abdomen.

“Tim!” she gasped, her thighs straining against his forearms as he pressed them wide open. Raven’s world seemed to turn into a blurry haze as heat just ignited her skin. Blindly grabbing the sheets to anchor herself and her reeling world, Raven buried her right hand into Tim’s hair and gave it a sharp tug as he hit a particular delicious note in his ministrations. Groaning, Raven felt her titter dangerously out of control.

Enjoying watching her coming undone, Tim continued with his careful ministrations of measured licking and strokes. Humming in delight as he felt her sharp tugs in his hair, he peered up at her and watched in satisfaction as continued to writhe in delight. Spreading her wider open and digging his fingers into her hips, Tim’s tongue buried deep within her and eagerly stoked a fire that made her sing.

Raven felt the world melt away as she felt herself quickly tumbling over the edge as Tim continued to stroke and suck, quickly sending her into oblivion. With a cry, Raven felt her body tumble over the edge. The world seemed to explode as she fell through the sky and her body roared at lick after lick after lick – continuously stoking flames and propelling her into the abyss.

The world came back around her slowly and the first thing she heard was her unsteady and rapid breathing. Her senses came back one of after another, her skin hot and sticking against the sheets despite the cold winter air that brushed over her legs. She lay spread eagle, all her limbs weak, and she gasped for breath as the heat within her belly still roared and her core throbbed deliciously.

“Fuck,” she breathed, blinking up at the old wooden ceiling and thanked the gods for their common sense of using a silencing charm.

“Hmm,” Tim made a humming sound of agreement from below and Raven lazily lolled her head in his direction to catch him still draped over her thighs and hips. He looked like the cat that ate all the cream – quite literally with the way his chin glistened. Raven blushed at the sight and her desires roared lowly for more. Nimble fingers danced over her heated flesh, dancing across her inner thighs and dangerously close to her throbbing core – teasing her with each stroke. Raven involuntarily bucked into him. Fuck.

“That was the best present to unwrap tonight,” mumbled Tim with a soft grin. He watched her sigh softly as he ran his hands up her waist. “Need to do one more thing before we move along,” he announced and quickly began kissing and nibbling on her hip bone.

“What are you doing?” Raven asked in between breaths as Tim nibbled and sucked on her hip bone, teeth scraping against heated flesh. She gasped as teeth dragged across her skin and she felt herself buck into him, cashing the delicious friction.

With a wet pop and a satisfied grin, Tim looked up at her, catching her blown blue eyes over her heaving chest. Tim felt his emotions hum in satisfaction, he loved watching her come undone and loose herself. “Just leaving a little mark to celebrate the occasion,” he said, eyes trailing back to her hip bone.

Raven’s brows furrowed together in confusion before releasing a soft huff of exasperated laughter as she saw the blossoming red bite mark on her skin – on her hip bone. “You didn’t,” she threw him an accusatory smile.

“Oh, I did,” Tim kissed her rib cage as he crawled up her body. Pressing a kiss to the side of her right breast, he dragged himself up her body and enjoyed the silky press of her skin against his. Pressing into her and enjoying the subtle roll of her hips against his own, he kissed the underside of jaw. “Thought it’d be a good touch to celebrate our Kinky Christmas,”

Tim had lost his sweats at some point earlier and Raven felt him brush against her inner thigh. Chasing the silky heat and his hot emotions, she laughed and wrapped her arms and round his shoulders, drawing him flush onto her. “You sap,” she whispered and caught his lips for a kiss. Feeling him brush against her, she whimpered softly and wrapped her left leg around his waist.

Tim rolled his hips against her teasingly, his cock brushing against her entrance and he released a breath he was holding in anticipation. Teasingly, he kissed the corner of her lips and smiled. “You like it, admit it,” he said while grabbing her leg around his waist and digging his fingers into her thigh. He grinned at the soft mewl and how their bodies rocked into each other.

“Yes,” She whispered, slowly loosing herself again. Her fingers danced over his shoulders and traced old scars. Rocking her hips against his and chasing the heat that was building up, Raven tapped his shoulder and hungrily brushed up against the silky skin of his cock. “But,” she whispered and her breathing stuttered as Tim started to kiss her neck and continued to teasingly rock into her. “I – I’d rather,” she mumbled, and she felt him nibble at the junction of her neck. “You fuck me into oblivion to celebrate our cat parenting future,”

Tim dragged his teeth along her pulse point and listened to her stuttered breathing. Allowing a fire to consume both of their desires, Tim promptly crawled over her and grinned down at her wolfishly. Rocking his hips into hers and brushing against her entrance teasingly, he spread her wider for him and pulled her in for long, bruising kiss. “Gladly,” he growled and all but impaled himself into her hot heat in one fluid motion.

“TIM!”

Much later, when they lay spent against each other and basked in the afterglow of lovemaking, they’d agree that this was perhaps the best Christmas they ever had – the promise of more Christmases together, as a cat family, seemed to glimmer teasingly.

#TimRae #tim drake #raven roth #teen titans #young justice #batman #No Beta we die like robins #TimRae Fanfiction

[littlemissinvisible101]

From Replacement to the Original pt.1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types

Relationships: Tim Drake & Selina Kyle, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne

Characters: Tim Drake, Janet Drake, Selina Kyle, Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Good Parent Selina Kyle, Somewhat good parent Janet Drake, Bruce Wayne is Tim Drake's Biological Parent, Selina Kyle is Tim Drake's Biological Parent, Selina Kyle is Catwoman, Past Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Child Neglect, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Was Robin, Protective Selina Kyle, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne had just woken up on his once-a-month mandatory rest day when he saw that the Drake Family Lawyer contacted him about a contingency letter left by his mother. Apparently, word of mouth travelled fast that he had come back from his supposed soul-searching trip around his parent’s favorite dig sites.

Mr. Fletcher had asked him when he was free to come get the letter his mother had left for him. Tim had wanted to get out of Gotham as soon as he could so he set up an appointment for that afternoon.

Tim had whipped together a quick breakfast and taken his antibiotics before he spent the rest of the morning finalizing his 2 weeks’ notice since Bruce had been able get back into Wayne Enterprises for the week. It had just been a little over a month since Tim had brought Bruce home from the Time Stream and while Tim had expected things to change, he had hoped it would be for the better.

Bruce hadn’t even blinked at the sight of Damian wearing the Robin suit. Hell, he had congratulated Dick for the way he had managed to keep Gotham and everything in line. Bruce had even found the time to fix up his relationship with Jason before he talked to Tim.

He didn’t even bother to thank Tim for saving his life and for taking over his family business. Instead, they talked business and acted as if nothing was wrong in front of the WE employees. If it wasn’t in business suits, then it was in the other suits when he called in Red Robin to help with a case. Tim hasn’t stepped foot inside the Manor in months.

If this was Bruce’s way of saying he didn’t need Tim anymore, he got the message loud and clear. After all, he was just the replacement, right? The pretender who forced his way into their lives and refused to go peacefully so he had to be kicked out. Well, here he was, bowing out silently out of their lives.

Tim had planned meticulously for how he would be able to leave without them noticing. In a week, he would submit his 2 weeks’ notice to Lucius Fox before heading on business trip to Japan to finalize a deal. He would be spending the next week there before heading to Austria for another week for another business deal. After, he would simply go wherever he wanted to go.

He preprogrammed a message to be sent to each of the Bats, as a farewell of sorts because even if they didn’t think of him as family, he still loved them as if they were his family. He had even prepared a message for the Titans in case they would ever need him again. They were the only ones Tim trusted enough to keep in contact with. Everyone else, even Alfred would have to be left behind.

Tim viciously pushed these thoughts to the side as he decided to enjoy a quick lunch before he made his way to talk to Mr. Fletcher. As he mindlessly prepped ingredients for a simple salad (because his immunity was shot so he needed all the help he could get), he wondered what would be in the letter.

His mother was not the touchy-feely type. She wouldn’t put something about them loving him. Most likely, it would be business instructions to ensure that Drake Industries would still be the empire that it had been under his mom’s command. Unfortunately for his mom, his dad had been the one to wreck the empire.

Tim had thought about reviving Drake Industries but had ultimately decided it wasn’t worth it. The amount of time that went into running a business wasn’t conducive to being a teenage vigilante and Tim wanted to be free to pursue the things he wanted in life. He had more than enough money to live off on and he had invested his money wisely so it had been turning a profit since he had left Gotham the first time.

Even if he continued his vigilantism, he had more than enough money to support himself. He didn’t need their help anymore, just like they don’t need him anymore. As he started cooking his breakfast, he marveled at how he had gotten to this point of independence from the Bats.

Ever since he came back with Bruce in tow, the rest of the Bats didn’t even bother to contact him unless it was for patrol or for a case. Oracle only kept in contact for business. Dick basically ignored their issues and tried to pretend they didn’t exist. Damian liked to act as if he didn’t exist. Jason was, oddly enough, the only one he could stand even if they did only work together for cases. Cass was still in Hong Kong.

If he was being honest with himself, Tim desperately missed being home at the Manor but after everything happened, it was clear that the Manor was no longer his home. Home used to be with the Bats and occasionally, with the Titans. Now, Tim would have to find a new home for himself, hopefully away from Gotham and the Bats.

Tim ate his salad mindlessly while he let his mind wander on his active cases. He would need to tie up his loose ends before he left without the bats taking notice. He popped his next dose of antibiotics into his mouth after and finally decided that he’s wasted enough time to start getting ready for the appointment.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, Timothy Drake-Wayne was ready and presentable to the public again. Tim debated bringing his motorcycle but the address of the office was only a couple of blocks from his apartment and he could use the walk to clear his head and get some fresh air.

As he left his penthouse, Tim’s mind debated again about what his mother could have possibly written about. His inheritance had already been secured since he was born so it couldn’t be that. The business had already sunken and drowned under the guidance of his father. It didn’t make any sense for Janet Drake to write a contingency letter and yet, here it was.

Tim didn’t know why but every step felt like it was weighed down with lead and his stomach dropped as he got closer and closer. By the time he was at the office, Tim’s mind was buzzing about theories as to what could have been so important for him to know that his mother, famed Iron Dragon of Gotham wrote a letter just in case she died.

Mr. Fletcher must have been eagerly awaiting him by the looks of it since Tim had scarcely knocked on the office doors before it was opened. It’s been a while since Tim had seen Mr. Fletcher given that he had retired before the Drakes passed.

“Timothy, you’re early!”

“Mother taught me that it was better to be early than to waste other’s time. It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Fletcher.”

“That does sound like something Janet would preach. I wished we’d met again under more ideal circumstances but you’ve grown into a fine young man. Your parents would be proud.”

“Thank you. Your email mentioned a letter from Mother?”

“Ah yes! As you know, ever since my son took over my position at the firm, I had relinquished all of my active duties to him but this was more of a request made by your mother to me as a confidant and friend. Jacob, my son had been cleaning out my office a few days ago when he found the envelope. He contacted me immediately about it and I remembered what it was about. I made the trip out here because I had to give it to you before I forgot again. I owe your mother that much.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Fletcher?”

“I think it’s best for you to read it, Timothy. I already know what it contains but I’m here to answer any of your additional questions.”

This suddenly seemed like a much bigger deal than Tim originally thought it would be, especially since Mr. Fletcher had left his retirement in Metropolis to give this to him in person. With bated breath, Tim opened the sealed envelope and began to read.

~~~

Dearest Timothy,

If you are reading this, then there are two possible options. Either I have passed on before your 18th birthday or I was too much of a coward to talk to you about this in person and I gave you this letter instead. As I write this, your father is asleep, holding you after a nightmare from today’s ordeal at the circus. I have tried to sleep but my mind will not be quieted about the possibility of that happening to us before I could tell you the truth so I decided to make this contingency letter just in case. By the time

you’re reading this, you will have grown into an intelligent young man who I know is capable of so much more than Jack and I could have ever dreamed of, partially because you are more than Jack and I could ever produce.

Timothy, you are not our biological son. I had gotten pregnant but the child I had borne was stillborn. Jackson Timothy Drake hadn’t been able to take his first breath before it was taken away. Luckily for me, your father was out of town on business and I rushed to Gotham General against my earlier wishes and they had stuck me in a room with another woman who had given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy, you.

You were both born on the same day, in the same room, with different fates. Your mother was a young woman from the seedier side of Gotham and your father was out of the picture, or so she said. She was planning to give you up for adoption anyway and so I made the only impulsive decision I have ever made since marrying Jack and I told her to give you to me. I told her I would give you the life of luxury you deserved and that you would never want for anything if she gave you to me. She agreed on one condition: I tell you the truth about your parentage on your 18th birthday so that she could have the opportunity to get to know you too.  

She didn’t even let me pay for her hospital bills because she didn’t want to be indebt to me even though I was forever indebted to her for giving me you. I had John rush over to Gotham General and make a contract for both of us because I could not allow Jack and the rest of Gotham High Society to find out about this. The only ones who knew about you being adopted were me, John, your mother and the medical staff who helped us. Since Gotham General was severely underfunded prior to my intervention, it was easy to get them to change the records to make Timothy Jackson Drake be born and for Jackson Timothy Drake to disappear. I had gotten the staff involved to sign NDAs and to make sure that none of this got out.

As I write this, I have seen you grow into this absolutely marvelous and intelligent child, talented in ways I could have never expected. It is bittersweet for me because as I see you grow, I cannot help but think of what my biological son could have been had he survived. Would he be as smart and as capable as you? Would he be different compared to you? Would I have taken you in had he survived? I have never regretted my decision to adopt you but I could not stand to watch you grow when I know my biological son never will. I know I will most likely grow to be distant from you and I already regret it but I cannot stop myself from seeing my dead son in you.

However, I can already tell you will be stronger than I ever could be. You take to your lessons like a duck to water and you see a magic in the world that I could never see. I want you to know that even if you are not mine biologically, I still love you even if I cannot show it. I love you even if you cannot feel it. I love you but I also love the son that I lost and I cannot help but mourn for him while I watch you grow. Your father does not know so his love is genuine and pure for you.

I want you to know this, Timothy. I took you in on an impulsive decision but I have never regretted it. Sure, I wish with all of my heart and mind that my son had survived but I was able to have you and you more than made up for it. I know that this does not excuse my future actions, my possible neglect of you but I hope you understand why I cannot bear to be close to you. I love you even if I do not show it. I love you even if you cannot see it. I love you and I hope you can forgive me for not telling you sooner.

Love,

Mother

~~~

Of all of the possibilities Tim had considered, this was not one of them. This explained so much but also left so many questions but the only thought passing through his head was the fact that, even at birth, he was a replacement.

“I assume you have questions?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, to be honest. You’ve known the entire time?”

“Yes. I was the one who made the contract for your mother and she swore me to secrecy.”

“So, let me get this straight. I was just a replacement for her son who died?”

“No! Of course not. Timothy, I know it must not have seemed like it but your mother and father truly did love you as if you were their own. Your mother has some leftover problems from her childhood that negatively impacted her ability to show her love even if she does. She would have never bothered to put in the effort otherwise.”

“I’m trying to believe that but my recollection of Mother is not that different from the Iron Dragon of Gotham.”

“That’s because she fought to give you the best education and care possible which she knew was not her own. That’s why she constantly changed your nannies and tutors because as soon as she felt they inadequate for you, she was searching for the next best thing for you. Janet didn’t really care in the normal ways, Timothy. I know it’s hard to see but she really did love you and take care of you in her own way.”

“I just. I never expected this.”

“I knew this day would come but I was honestly hoping your mother would be here to explain her side of the story before she told you who your birth mother was.”

“Do-do you know who my birth mother is?”

“It’s not written in the letter?” Mr. Fletcher seemed genuinely surprised at this.

“No. Mother didn’t include her name, just a vague description of her. Can you tell me who my mother is?”

“I guess by the time Janet wrote it, she had forgotten the name. I think I have the contract hidden here. Let me look for it.”

What followed was the tensest five minutes of Tim’s life. He didn’t even know if his biological mother was still alive but he wanted to find out. After all, his birth mother had wanted to reconnect when he was older. Maybe, she wanted to have him in her life, just like Mo-Janet had apparently wanted him in her life.

Maybe, she would be there with welcoming arms. Maybe, she was one of the many civilian casualties of their nighttime escapades. Maybe, she had gotten lost in the seedier side of Gotham and she had never been able to make it out. There were so many maybes that Tim wanted to figure out what was true and what wasn’t.

“Aha! Here it is. According to this, your birth mother is Selina Kyle.”

Holy shit. His mother was fucking Catwoman.

#tim drake #bruce wayne #selina kyle #tim drake angst #ao3 fanfic

[stxleslyds]

MY REVIEW OF UNDER THE RED HOOD!

EDIT: This is Tati from the present, Hello! I am writing this little message right now to let you know that I am rebloging this post because I recently re-read it and I wanted to make it “better”, this was my second review that I had ever made and I am quite fond of it but it needed to be brushed up and made easier to read. Now, let me be honest, I am not an excellent writer so there are probably some mistakes here still but I like it even more now, so yeah, that’s all I had to say!

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

This review is here not only because I love that book but because Geoff Johns and Scott Lobdell’s characterization of Jason and Red Hood gives me nightmares and it’s just annoying.

First let me set the scene, here we go!

Jason’s death was confirmed in book three of four in the Death in the Family event back in December, 1988 (Batman #428). But he is officially brought back sixteen years and two months after his death in the iconic Batman: Under the (Red) Hood event (Batman #635-641, #645-650, Annual #25)

This particular event is just wonderful, I love this for many reasons some of which I will probably talk about in this post but it has impacted me so much that if anyone asks me what Batman story I would recommend it would be this one.

Now just a heads up, I always felt impartial to Batman as a hero but around three years ago I started borderline hating the guy and now I just can’t stand him half of the time, and I blame it on his overuse and the god complex that some writers can’t seem to write him without. So, I don’t really recommend UtRH in a good light when talking about the Bat himself. It’s all about my boy, Jason Todd.

UtRH is just amazing at showing these two character’s motivations and how they seem to think that their ways of handling crime are the best way. But it also shows us so many aspects of how Jason’s death impacted both Jason and Bruce.

Let’s start the review!

UtRH starts with a look into the future, a fight between Batman and a mysterious man in a red helmet that seems to not be an easy opponent for the Bat and it also looks like these two have been going at it for a while but just as we arrive we see that it may be over in the Bat’s favor but in that exact moment the red helmeted man unmasks Batman! Seemingly not shocked that Bruce Wayne is the Bat the mysterious man decides that he will show his face too...but all we get to see is Bruce’s face of shock and then.... we are thrown back at what we come to believe is the real beginning of the story.

Probably you can’t tell, but to me this is an amazing start to a story, you have the Bat who is sold as an excellent fighter struggling in a fight but when it seems that he is going to win something major happens... the mysterious man unmasks a legendary hero and doesn’t make a fuss about it and then he manages to shock the Bat by showing his face (which is not shown to the reader), I just think its genius, it sets up this new guy as an incredibly good and interesting character.

So now we find ourselves thrown back 5 weeks in the past and we come in contact with a meeting with some very shady people that don’t really know who put together the whole thing and while they try to rationalize it a round of shots hits the table they are sitting around.

Here is where we see this leather-jacket-wearing dude, holding an AK-47 while posing for the Google earth cameras, telling those people that he reunited them and that he is hot shit. He is there to make a deal; the dramatic queen wants to run the underworld of Gotham and not only is he offering protection against the Black Mask but against the Bat too.

Well, needless to say, those guys aren’t necessarily buying what he is selling so that my friends takes us to an iconic moment, this dude proceeds to throw a duffel bag with the heads of these people’s lieutenants and to finish it off he just shots another round to make the message clear...I mean talk about dramatic entrances!

Please don’t worry I didn’t forget about the most important part of this whole entrance...we were just introduced to this man who means business and wants to rule Gotham’s underworld and manage its drug trade and it’s all very swell but the truly important thing is what he says next:

“You stay away from kids and school yards. NO dealing to children, got it? If you do, you are DEAD.”

That’s a powerful message and this is just me speculating but if he has to make that specification clear...it leads me to think that kids are people that he wants to protect and no matter how much money they could bring to the business he wants them out of the equation, also the price for breaking that rule is death…. So yeah, is he truly a villain or...?

Now after all of this we jump to Black Mask receiving information of a new player in the game and he doesn’t seem like he cares, to him it’s just a newbie trying to mess around on a street level so he moves on with his business of recruiting Mr. Freeze for an undisclosed job. On the other hand, we are shown Batman crying over the fact that Oracle isn’t working with him anymore and then teaming up with Nightwing (that is wearing a knee brace and probably shouldn’t be out doing extreme parkour with his furry dad but hey, what do I know?)

We see Freeze trying on some new clothes and then we are back again with Black Mask, here, for the very first time we hear the new player’s name...Red Hood.

Following Batman and Nightwing we find them intercepting a shipment that appears to have a bunch of gadgets from several villains and among them there was a bomb, it explodes (detonated by the Red Hood) and from then on, the fun begins...the Bat and Nightwing go on pursuit and we get to see what the Bat thinks about Hood. He thinks that he is very well trained, agile and unpredictable, he also has an overall sense of familiarity coming from Hood but he ends up saying that it’s nothing they haven’t seen before, what he doesn’t expect is having been led to a trap which is, Amazo, yay! (Amazo was the cargo that Mask was waiting for).

Amazo is taken down with a little bit of struggle but he eventually is thrown to Gotham harbor and we are informed in another panel by Mask that Amazo wasn’t supposed to be activated so we can safely assume that it was Hood the one who did it. Mask is pissed that the Bat broke his toy and is going to be more pissed off when he answers a call from a certain red helmeted man...

Hood informs Mask that he took one of the crates from the shipment and that it might be one of the most valuable ones, our boy stole a crate with at least one hundred pounds of kryptonite...yeah no big deal.

Here I will make a stop to tell you that we know that this Red Hood is extremely tactical, he has a plan within a plan that takes down several players, he is confident in what he is doing and is certainly not afraid to get his hands dirty. He is a worthy opponent to Black Mask, Nightwing and Batman. We are just starting to know him but he is already great and it only gets better.

As we enter chapter three of the story we see Hood asking for 50 million dollars from Black Bask for the kryptonite that he stole from Black Mask (say that again), to everyone’s surprise Mask “agrees” to give him the money easily... well, not really, Mask is going to send Freeze to kill Hood and get that (quite honestly) unnecessary amount of kryptonite back.

Hood obviously knew that he wasn’t going to get whatever money he negotiated but he also wasn’t quite ready to take on Freeze but he did his best. When Freeze is the last one standing Batman shows up and a kinda lame fight ensues...Freeze leaves and Hood says that he really doesn’t care about the kryptonite, all he wants is the “lay of the land” and then leaves.

If you are wondering where Hood went, well…he went to an abandoned funhouse to terrorize the Joker! Yes people, it’s confirmed, Hood is a good boy! Go get him Hood I am rooting for you!

IT IS CROWBAR TIME! (And this time in reverse)

 In the start of chapter four Hood is blowing up yet another truck full of weapons belonging to Mask.

Elsewhere Batman is bothering Zatanna about one of Ra’s Al Ghoul’s (sealed) Lazarus pits. Asking if the pit can raise the dead and being his natural rude self. Because he doesn’t get the information that he needs and goes to Jason Blood who tells him that if he wants to know about people who came back from the dead he might as well talk to Green Arrow but his chat with him doesn’t lead anywhere so that’s that.

Onyx is introduced to us as a vigilante accepted by the Bat (you know, because of that thing where other vigilantes can only do their thing in Gotham if the Bat lets them because he is the high king or something) and when she comes across some dealers she finds out they work for the Red Hood and given that he is an unknown player she relieves the information to B who acts like an ass because he thought she had seen Hood and that she compromised one of his informants…now here is the thing, why does B act like everyone has mind reading abilities? How on earth would she have known that he had an informant and that the Red Hood wasn’t news to him...I am sorry dude but you are a shitty person of the highest quality  

Anyway, Onyx is actually doing her work watching shady men talk about if they will or not join the Red Hood, one of them says something like “I won’t join that psycho because he decapitated some of my men” (good men, he specified) but Onyx isn’t alone, Hood makes it known by telling her that those men were selling drugs to twelve-year-old’s (remember kids are protected by Hood, you absolutely do not involve them and if you do...well, congrats, you are dead)

At this point we are in chapter six of the story and another character trait is revealed to us from Red Hood, he is meticulous in the way he works. He knows almost everyone involved in the drug trade, what they did and are doing, the relationships they hold with Mask or whoever their boss is. The information he gathers lets him know if the people will stick to his rules and can also use the information he has against them. So, he is extremely dangerous, we have to imagine that if he is that thorough with street level baddies what kind of knowledge does he have on people like Batman...well, spoiler alert, he knows everything and he will use it and has been using it since he first saw him.

 While Onyx and Hood are on their way to take down those men Batman is in Metropolis asking Superman about his death and how he managed to come back to life.

Onyx soon understands what “taking down” truly means when it comes to Hood...they manage to get out of the warehouse just for him to grab a gun and shoot everyone on sight, which doesn’t sit well with Onyx so she tells him that, to which Hood has something to say just before he stabs her:

“Welcome to earth, baby! These dead sacks of meat on the floor made their living by beating, raping and devouring. Fear isn’t the answer.”

And I want to put as much importance into this as I did to the whole “keep kids away from this business” because it’s really important in what’s to come and the way Hood thinks is the better way to battle crime in Gotham.

That sentence alone tells us what kind of people Hood takes down, he plays judge, jury and executioner, he chooses who he kills and who is worth leaving alive if their crimes aren’t the ones that he decided must be paid with death. But it goes beyond that, he brings the fear factor… we know how batman works, he relies in criminals fearing him and the fact that they will be beaten and sent to jail or Arkham (if they are mad enough).

Here is what I believe is the fundamental difference between the fear factor used by those two, on the Bat’s side, the fear is left in the people he attacks but in Hood’s side, the fear is left in those who find the bodies.

After Hood stabs Onyx he decides to stay and chat, he tells her that he stabbed her in the shoulder because he knows it hurts and because (look at this smartass) he saw that she was “favoring one side” so he deduced that she had had an injury and teases her about maybe coming back to crime fighting a bit early...if you don’t think that’s cocky enough he then makes a comment about how the angle of the knife will make it harder for her to pull it out so, there you go, the man is well trained and knows what he is doing.

After that we get another piece of information about Hood and it’s actually given to us and Onyx by Hood himself, he says “I am no one’s son”.

Hood also shows us another character trait of his...he is a little shit. And very good at it. After he stabs Onyx “choice time” comes, basically he gives her two (three) options either he takes out the blade and she runs or he pulls the blade down from her shoulder to her hip and she bleeds out.  He also says that she could maybe join him, which is revealed quite quickly to be a joke and then proceeds to take the blade out and covering the wound with a “high-end field dressing for the modern soldier. It adheres as well as closes the wound with an antibacterial adhesive agent...stops the bleeding cold”.

I wrote the whole thing word for word because I think it’s important for us to see that he saved her life, and he also didn’t let her choose he just did it, let’s think about this, Hood shows up to that meeting not expecting to see Onyx there and instead of losing his cool he just talks to her about the men,  invites her to fight (his way but she didn’t know that) they make their escape and after the men are all killed by Hood she is furious so he, rather violently, completely immobilizes her so he can tell her what’s on his mind and then he gives her choices but here is what I really think...she never had choices because she is not his target, she doesn’t fit among the people that he thinks must be put down, so stabbing her came hand in hand with saving her.

Saving her just to ask her if she will “get up, fight and stop him” because he is still a cocky bastard...but surprise! Batman showed up to the party!

Hood isn’t too shaken up, in fact he uses the opportunity to make a show of his knowledge of the Bat’s thinking and his gadgets...he flatters the fact that he didn’t even hear him land and starts explaining to Onyx how the plane works, it can be stealthy or it can destroy your eardrums, then the chase ensues, B actually makes Hood fall at some point but it really doesn’t bother him, he continues to “flatter” the Bat’s technique, training and gadgets (all to fight the “malignant scum that ravage this city” Hood says) but ultimately tells him that he also has toys (that apparently he intercepted from Kord industries).

The chase turns into a fight in a rooftop, and yes my friends, this is the fight from the beginning of the story, the “you show me your face and I show you mine” fight.

Hood wants Batman to ask himself what has he done, and this I suppose is in reference to what he has done to deserve Hood coming after him. To which the Bat offers nothing but accuses Hood of being a murderer to which he answers with “No. I’ve killed, not murdered”

That confuses me, so first I will tell you what I found about the difference between killing and murdering somebody. A human kills another when it’s without intent or an accident, on the other hand when a human murders another it’s done with intent. About intent I found the following: “A person intends a consequence when they 1) foresee that it will happen if their given series of acts or omissions continue, and 2) desire it to happen.”

I don’t really know if Winick or the editors mixed the concepts of the two or if there is more to it. I honestly cannot wrap my head around it. It really doesn’t fit with what he has been saying, like the no dealing drugs to kids because if they do they will pay with their lives.

Anyway, my confusion is not what matters here, what matters is that we have arrived to the moment in which Red Hood will reveal to Batman his identity yay!

It’s Jason! Jason Todd is back from the grave!

It takes a bit of time for Bruce to come to terms with the reality of things but Jason assures him that he is who he says he is, he even suggests that Bruce has known his identity for a while and that it has been brewing in his head since Clayface.

I know, there are some things that need to be cleared up, the UtRH story is set in issues #635 (February, 2005) to #650 (April, 2006) but in a previous story (Batman: Hush) that ran from issues #608 to #619 “Jason” or better said Clayface disguised as an adult version of Jason had a fight with Batman where some old wounds were opened, this happened in issue #618 (October, 2003).

As far as we know that Jason wasn’t real and that was that, in fact we didn’t get the real events up until Red Hood: The Lost Days, a miniseries that came out in 2010, in the last issue it’s explained to us that by the time of Batman: Hush’s events Jason was already in Gotham and he was giving Hush information to mess with the Bat, and that’s all the information I have right there.

Back again to the story, Batman wants to know how Jason came back to life and he responds that he doesn’t know and doesn’t care, but he does give blood, tissue and fingerprints to Bruce so he can do some tests in the cave to prove that it’s really him, Bruce is once again being difficult saying that it still won’t make him believe but Jason knows better and tells him so.

He also says that it doesn’t matter what he is now, what matters is what Bruce is and what Jason will become. And Jason will become the kind of man Bruce would have been had he killed the Joker.

This whole conversation is very informative; Jason tells Bruce that he knows how to help Gotham because he understands the city more than Bruce. And in order to do that he will kill the Joker and those who deserve to die. This obviously doesn’t sit well with Bruce but Jason doesn’t really care what he thinks so he creates a distraction so he can leave B alone to marinate his thoughts.

It’s here at the end of chapter seven that I am going to cut the first part of the review before too long becomes way too long, so, see you in the second part!

The second part is linked here!

#red hood #jason todd #batman #under the red hood #utrh #comics #comic review #nightwing #dick grayson #gotham

[animemangasoul]

You Have A Home With Me

Summery: Tim takes in a meta human kid and tries to keep him a secret from the rest of the batfamily until his team gets back. It doesn't go as planned. And with an entire criminal empire after the kid, it's all Tim can do to keep it all under wraps and away from the media's attention

Characters: Tim Drake, OC, Batfamily, Young Justice

Chapter: 2/5

By the time Tim parked his car, the rigged frame of the kid’s shoulders had softened and his breathing had even out, clearly having fallen into a deep sleep. Tim couldn’t help but smile slightly at the tiny snores coming from his left. After everything, the bombing, the screams, death threats.... after everything, it was hard to see the kid as just a kid. But right here at this moment; looking at the tuft of blonde hair peeking out of the tiny ball sitting next to him, Tim couldn’t help but be glad that he’d got involved when he did. Was it reckless? Yes. But was it necessary? Absolutely. He wouldn’t take it back if he could. Wouldn’t change the outcome no matter how disastrous it had turned out.  

Turning off the car, he took a deep breath and gave himself the time to settle down his nerves. Whether he liked it or not, Tim was in for the long haul. Whatever web of criminal activities he’d managed to stumble over, it wouldn’t vanish overnight and after taking their priced subject.... yeah, this wasn’t going to end anytime soon.  

Normally the Titans would be his first go to when metas were involved but his friends were off planet and no matter how much he trusted the rest of the team, they had too many connections and loyalties to people that Tim couldn’t control. Bart, Cassie and Kon, those three Tim could trust with his life but with them being out of the equation for the moment, he would have to handle the situation on his own. And he could do it. Of course he could. Hiding shit from the Batman was something he’d become exceptionally good at; and he hadn’t been bad at it to begin with so.....

Still, the family had barely recovered from their recent fallout with Jason and these tiny lines of trust being built between them were important and if Tim wasn’t careful..... He didn’t want to break what Bruce had tried so hard to restore. He couldn’t do that to his family and yet.....  

Shifting slightly, Tim let his eyes trace over the sleeping figure next to him and his stomach coiled. The kid looked so small. Dirty, bruised, hurt and so so suspicious of the world. And who could blame him? Tim had literally met the child while the kid was strapped down to a metal table being experimented on with God knows what. And after the--- Cutting himself off, Tim shook his head viciously to get rid of the memories and closed his eyes.  

He trusted Bruce. He trusted Dick and Jason and Alfred but..... Meta humans weren’t welcome in Gotham and with this kid’s past... it was safe to say that Bruce would likely hand him over to the Justice League and call it a day or—take over the whole investigation and leave Tim out of it. But.... Tim.... He’d promised the kid he would save him. He’d promised.  

He hadn’t saved him yet and Tim was eighteen now. He could handle this. He’d handled everything in his life so far; not well, but he’d done it, so this wouldn’t be any different.

‘Ok,’  he thought; leaning over his seat to fumble blindly until his fingers found the thick folder he’d thrown in the back of the car.‘I’ll figure it out. Keep the kid safe and  dismantle M.E.T and then I’ll find somewhere permanent for him. Easy enough. Nothing I can't handle.’  

Yep, Tim could do this. By himself. No problem.  

Cradling the folder that had lead him into this mess in the first place, Tim meticulously pushed all his worries, all his fears, all his anxious feelings into the tiny box at the back of his mind and locked it down. Concerns for another day, he thought grimly before turning on the air-conditioner and waiting.  

Waking up the kid in any way that would startle him was a recipe for disaster, so.... Tim would have to make him wake up on his own and sure enough, less than five minutes later the kid started to stir. Soft inaudible muttering accompanying his movements until a face popped up behind the folded arms and blue eyes snapped open to meet Tim’s own steady gaze. “You with me?” Tim asked, keeping his voice as soothing as possible but the kid still tensed up immediately; whatever sleeplessness still clouding his eyes melting away in an instance. Curling even further against his seat, the blonde glared; frown pulling his lips down into an almost snare and Tim might have felt threatened if whoever was glaring at him wasn't half his size and he hadn’t dealt with Damian for years, so all that look served to do was let Tim observe the kid closer and notice how tired he looked.

“We’re here,” he said, not expecting an answer from the kid. At this point if the brat didn’t want to talk to him there was nothing Tim could do to make him. “I have a private elevator installed so we can get up to my apartment without meeting anyone. Sounds good?” He’s already opening the door before he has finished speaking; folder under one arm and keys held in the other.

“Coming?” He asked when halfway out the car he noticed the kid had yet to move. The minute the words left his mouth the kid scrambled out the car, slamming the door loudly and making Tim wince.

‘Brat,’ he thought, but didn’t say anything about it as he closed his own side and locked the vehicle before quickly making his way to the elevator on the other side; careful to keep an ear out for the soft pitter patter of feet following three steps behind him.  

Stepping into the elevator, Tim made sure to warn the kid just in case. “I don’t know if you’ve ever taken an elevator before,” he muttered, keeping his gaze firmly on the buttons but not pressing the familiar square just yet. “But it goes up slowly and you feel this slight tug at the base of your stomach.” Turning slightly his gaze meets the ice cold ones of the kid, the kid who’d somehow managed to wedge himself at the very corner of the elevator, as far away from Tim as possible. “Is that ok?” A jerky nod was his answer and Tim nodded back, pressing the button and watching as the doors shut and with a slight jolt the elevator started moving.

A tiny gasp from behind him made Tim stiffen; preparing himself for what might follow, one hand already going to his pocket, but thankfully nothing happened, and the kid only squeezed himself even further into the corner.  

Sighing in relief, Tim didn’t comment on the kid’s reaction and when the elevator finally dinged on the right floor, the doors had barely opened when the kid darted out and was stumbling his way to the living room in his too big of a gray jumpsuit.  

Tim himself took his own time stepping out and slowly taking of his shoes as he watched the blonde mop of hair scanning the livingroom from top to bottom with the wary eyes of someone who’d watched the world burn. By the time Tim stepped into the same room, the kid had curled himself up into the far corner of one of the couches; white leather dirtying under the filth of his clothes, but Tim only blinked slowly at the fact before shaking it off.  

Not important.

“You can take a shower if you want,” he said instead, pointing a thumb down the hallway to the left. “It can’t be pleasant wearing those clothes for long.” The kid glares and Tim sighs.  

He’d never been that difficult his entire life. Tim was sure of it.

“Look,” he said, staying right where he was as not to scare the kid further. “You don’t have to shower if you don’t want to, but maybe wash your hands or something? It’ll make you feel better and I have some clothes around here probably, that you can wear.”  

Blue eyes stare up at him with eerie blankness that Tim would have found impressive on anyone else but only felt his heart breaking when he saw it on the kid, and....  

Tim really wanted to know his name.

He knew his number. God, when he’d first seen those letters and numbers he hadn’t even known a person was behind them let alone a kid and now.... Seeing the same code tattooed on the kid’s neck whenever his blonde hair moved ever so slightly.... Disgust wedged itself in Tim’s throat.

He wasn’t going to call the kid by a number. He’d rather refer to him as the child he was than do that. After everything....

A shift in the corner made him snap back into focus and his eyes met the blue ones staring back at him, now with a hint of defeat in them, going by the slumped shoulders and the mild pout on the kid’s face. A tiny nod sealed the child’s decision and Tim gave him a mild smile in response. “Ok,” he said. “I’ll get the bath ready for you and you just....” Waving his arms around in awkward motion he shrugged; almost missing the slight amusement that briefly flickered across the kid’s lips. “Yeah,” he finished his sentence; feeling mildly better that he’d managed to trigger something else other than suspicion in the kid. “You just wait here or something.”

With that he hurried down the hall. Briefly pausing at his room to lock the folder behind the vault before going to the bathroom.  

“Shit,” he muttered. He’d apparently forgotten to clean up after himself since the bright lit room looked as if someone had bled out on it, and.... Well, it exactly what had happened, but it’s not like Tim could let the kid see this. If he wasn’t already freaked out, he sure as hell would be after seeing bloody bandages, a discarded bullet and a Red Robin uniform just lying on the ground. Sighing, he began filling up the bath and while the water was heating up he got to work cleaning. Well versed in the aftermath of hiding evidence of his superheroing, he got the job done quick and hanging up the suit behind the hidden wall in his room he went to go get the kid.

“Go get yourself cleaned up,” he said, standing at the entrance of the living room. “I’ll find you something to wear.”

The kid doesn’t say anything, just scoots down the sofa, feet barely reaching the ground as he jumps off and shuffles his way past him, bathroom door slapping shut couple of seconds later.

Huffing, Tim made his way back to his room. Determined to find at least something remotely wearable for the brat. Tim wouldn’t deny that he was.... on the shorter side of the spectrum when it came to his family, but even he wasn’t as short as a ten years old? Nine? Either way, the kid was literally half his size, so.....

Scratching at his head, he scanned through his wardrobe carefully. Maybe Dick had left some of Damian’s clothes last time they visited. His brother always wanted him and the devil spawn to bond so he always tried to make them both comfortable with each other; failing but still....

Riffling through his bottom drawer he let out a triumphant noise when he finally managed to find some of Damian’s old clothes. “Bit extensive Dick,” he muttered, bringing a bundle of clothes to his eyes. It’s like his brother expected the gremling to crash with him for extended period of time or something. Snorting, he shook his head and laid the material out on his bed. ‘Yeah, that hadn’t gone well at all.’

‘Now,’ he thought, running his finger over the material. ‘I’m sure he doesn’t want anything that exposes his arms so t-shirts are out, but...’ Frowning, he pulled out one of Damian’s long sleeved shirts. It didn’t feel very comfortable to the touch and the kid might not be able to sleep in them.  

What to do?

In the end he decided on one of Damian’s sleeping pants and one of his older shirts he’d stolen from Dick when he was thirteen. He’d been a rather small kid so if it fit him then, it would probably fit the brat too.

Finally having decided, he was just about to take them to the bathroom when a bone chilling scream pierces the air and Tim is off. Sprinting out of his room he raced down the hall almost crashing into the opposing wall before screeching to a stop and practically flinging open the door. The most horrible conclusions running through his brain all the while.

What if they’d found him? What if he’d hurt himself? What if his family had come to visit uninvited? What if, what if, what if......

Tim should have stayed with him. Or at least stayed outside the door so--

His eyes fall on the figure on the ground before slowly tracing up to the broken mirrors and the shattered glass on the floor and he just knows.

“Oh,” he muttered, sinking to the floor outside the bathroom, gaze resting on the tiny, bruised naked child curled up the wet ground. “The mirrors?”

Stupid stupid stupid Tim.

The kid was literally strapped to a table when he found him, mirrors all around and Tim hadn’t even thought....

“I’m sorry,” he said; trying to keep his voice steady. “I should have covered them up.” The kid only shakes where he sits; soapy hair pressed against his skull and fingers practically digging holes into his bare arms. “Hey,” Tim said. “Hey kid, look at me please.”  

He doesn’t, but his body twitches and his chin raises ever so slightly so he most have heard him. Good, good, that was good.  

“I’m sorry. I should have been more careful, but I need you to tell me if you’re ok. I need to know if you’re fine.”

Nothing, and Tim frowns. Edge of concern bleeding in and mixing with his current anxious state. His left wrist is throbbing, his mind his frazzled and he is so damn tired..... How did Dick do this?

“Kid?”

A sudden rumble and then the room is shaking. Water rises and wash clothes, shampoo bottles, medical kit, all are, with a silent tug of power floating dangerously above them in vicious circles and Tim pales. Fuck.

“Kid... kid!”  

Nothing.

Shit, shit, shit.

The boy is now clutching at his hair; eyes scrunched shut and low keening noises escaping his mouth and Tim knows what's about to happen. Knows how terrible it's going to play out and... “N5200L!”

Everything freezes. The kid stills, the objects tremble for a hot second and then—Tim is throwing himself over the kid before he knows it, hissing softly as bathroom items start raining down on them. His wrist burns when a shampoo bottle hits it on its way down but Tim doesn’t move and when it all stops he quickly scoots away from the kid and raises his hands. “It’s ok,” he says; wet, bruised and tired but voice soft and gentle as they meet the silent teary eyes of the blonde. “It’s ok. You did nothing wrong. It’s ok.”

The kid shakes his head, lips wobbly and eyes caught in that silent despair that keeps breaking Tim’s heart. He hadn’t wanted to use that name and yet, he’d still done it. ‘Careful Tim,’ his mind whispered. ‘Your inner Janet is showing.’  

“You don’t have to worry about any of this,” he continued, trying to sound as much like Alfred as possible. "I’ll clean this up no problem, you just... You need to rinse off the soap and then you can leave.”

A tiny whimper and... damn it.

“Your hair is still--” he started, knowing that the kid couldn’t really go back to sleep unless he watched out the soap. What if it got into his eyes or something, but the minute he started speaking, the kid shakes his head vigorously. Turning away from the bathtub. “Fine,” Tim said, feeling a lump in his throat as he finally found himself actually seeing the kid for the firs time.  

The cuts, the bruises, the dozens of scars carved into his skin. The blood.

No kid should ever.... even in his worst days Tim had never-  It was as if the kid's body was made up of trauma upon trauma. Scars barely healed before others were stitched on top of them. No wonder he panicked when he saw himself in the mirror or in the water reflection or--- whatever had triggered him.... No wonder he--

“Is it ok if I just wash your hair out here then?”

Wet eyes blink at him in confusion and Tim smiles; finding that his eyes are itching suspiciously. “I’ll wash your hair where you are,” he says, pointing at the water jug by the sink. “Two or three times might do it, yeah?” The kid opened his mouth and for a second..... but then he clicked it shut, looking away.

Tim Frowned. “If you’re worried about the floor don’t be,” he said finally. “It has a drain so it’ll be ok.”

It takes agonizing couple of minutes of just sitting in uncomfortable cold silence where Tim had already begun cleaning up the glass shards; silently worrying about the kid catching a cold when there is finally a shuffling of noise coming from the child and when Tim turns around to face him; a tiny nod is his answer. Nodding back, Tim scoops up the last shards of glass the best he can and with a bundle of toilet paper throws it all in the trash.

Then standing up and side-stepping the mess on the ground he picks up the jug, fills it up with hot water and drops down next to the kid. He doesn’t react when he flinches, instead carefully hoovering over him until he finally stills before reaching up to shield the kid's eyes and slowly pouring the water over his hair. The kid is tense the whole way through, but nothing breaks and nothing goes flying so Tim knows there is at least some trust given to him.

It takes a couple more trips to the sink before Tim has all the soap out of the kid’s hair and by that time the kid is practically leaning into his side, exhausted. “All done,” Tim muttered; draping a towel around the shivering figure; careful not to put pressure on his bruises. “I need you to stand up for me. The floor is too wet for you to sit on.” The kid blinks slowly before looking down and yeah, they are both practically sitting in water and slowly the kid stands up, Tim hands on his shoulders keeping him steady. And when he is finally standing on his own two feet Tim follows, picking up another towel from the hanger to dry the kid’s hair. “There,” he says, stepping away from the child. “There are some clothes for you in my room. You can go change there. I’ll take care of this.”

The kid doesn’t even spare him a second glance before he darts out of the room and Tim finally lets his shoulders sag in relief. Getting to work scooping the water into the drain, Tim silently congratulate himself on not messing it up for his first time. He doesn’t know for how long he’ll be able to keep it up, but so far so good.

So far so good.

@miss-choco-chips @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

#tim drake #batfamily #Batfamily Fanfic #red robin #batman comics #young justice #tim being a sad dad #this chapter is waaaaay longer than I thought it would be #wow #thank you all for reading #and whoever wanna be tagged let me know #I don't mind

[themoonandotherslikeit]

Something More Than What I Had- Part Two

Part Two - Deuteronomy

“See, I have taught you decrees and laws as the LORD my God commanded me, so that you may follow them in the land you are entering to take possession of it.” Deuteronomy 4:5

Two Months Later

 Castiel ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, while Sam stepped over it. Due to his sheer stature, ducking under the tape often looked like he was limboing on stilts. Since Crowley had walked out of the precinct eight weeks before, the partners’ relationship was strained at best. They’d been virtually silent when not directly working on cases, and the kid was all too compliant when Castiel suggested that he should take back seat on the cases following Crowley’s. More than ever, he did not trust the rookie’s judgement. 

 “What do we have, Eileen?” Castiel asked eyeing the crime scene tech.

 “It’s a weird one,” she said out loud, her hands busy with her swabs and plastic evidence bags from her forensics kit.

 Sam tapped her shoulder so she would look at him. How, he signed.

 Eileen raised an eyebrow with a faint smile, turning away from him. “See for yourself.” The two detectives followed her lead to the middle of the crime scene. The closer they got the more that Castiel could smell it. The smell of burning. He reached up and covered his nose with the sleeve of his button up shirt. “Be careful where you step,” she said, gesturing to the ground. There were large, long patches of grass that were burned away now just black piles of ash.

“What is this?” Castiel asked to no one in particular, as he squatted down next to the ground. He didn’t smell gasoline, or any kind of excelerant, but yet the burns were defined. They looked intentional, almost like an art installation. 

 “Male, mid fifties.”

 “Holy shit,” Sam said, his voice was hollow, but Castiel barely noticed as he squinted to further examine the grass. “Novak.” 

 “What, Rookie?” Castiel asked, annoyed as his concentration broke. He turned his head and found the kid standing at the head of a body next to Eileen, who was gesturing to the victim. The burn marks went all the way up to the corpse, underneath him, and out the other side as far as he could tell from his vantage point. 

 The kid’s eyes were locked on the victim. He looked like he’d seen a damn ghost. “Do you need me to hold your hand?” Cas asked as he stood up, shaking his head. At some point it had to be sink or swim and with how short his patience was lately, Castiel figured that time was quickly approaching for his young partner.

 “No, it’s just… the vic. You recognize him?” 

 He rolled his eyes. What? Was it some celebrity? Surely the Captain would’ve told them if it was someone worth getting excited over. Castiel walked toward the kid to get a better look at the victim. When he got closer, he was able to make out more details. The expensive, pressed suit, red pocket square that perfectly matched his necktie, dark full beard against olive skin, but Castiel didn’t get a sinking feeling until his eyes rested on the victims hand that rested on his chest. The sun glinted off a gold ring on his finger. “Fuck.” 

 “What?” Eileen asked, looking between the two. What? She signed to Sam.

 “It’s Crowley,” he said out loud, fingerspelling the name to Eileen. “He’s one of our perps, but he walked. From the prostitute case.”

 Eileen raised her eyebrows, grinning as the kid successfully signed prostitute. 

 “What do you make of the burn marks?” He asked, gesturing to the ash. He didn’t get an answer, before the rookie grabbed ahold of Cas’ arm and lead him backwards. “What the hell are you doing?” 

 “Just trust me, okay?” The kid grumbled, climbing up on the hood of Castiel’s squad car. 

 “Kid, get down!”

 “Castiel!” Sam snapped, pointing at the spot next to him where he stood. 

 He groaned, shaking his head. Fucking kids, but he took Sam’s hand nonetheless and let himself be pulled onto the hood of the car. “Now what? Singer isn’t going to appreciate us climbing all over police sanctioned vehicles for kicks…” And then he saw it, and his jaw fell open. The burn marks came out from Crowley’s back, they were sixteen feet in length at least. “Are those… Christ, are those wings?”

 He turned to Sam, who nodded in return. “I thought the markings along the edge facing his feet looked like feathers.” 

 “It’s ritualistic. I wonder if he was into more dark things than we thought,” Castiel agreed, staring completely dumbfounded at the scene in front of him. He’d never seen anything like it, not even in books. How did the perp get away with it? It had to take time, precision. As sick as it made him feel, he was a little impressed. 

 “Has to be. This isn’t a crime of passion,” Sam said, getting down from the hood of the car. Cas followed suit, and they walked back to examine the body closer. “This was planned.”

 “Meticulously,” Castiel said, squinting. He crouched back down by the body to get a better look. It looked like there had been minimal struggle. He turned to Eileen. “What was the time of death?” 

 “Based on the scene,” she began, “it’s hard to tell. He was moved here, and killed somewhere else.” 

 He nodded, his eyes scanning Crowley’s coat, stopping at the disturbed pocket square. “There’s something in his pocket.” He pulled a rubber glove out of his pocket and slid it onto his hand, to keep the evidence intact. The sky was growing darker by the moment, a storm rolling in. A chill ran up the back of Castiel’s neck as he pulled out a folded piece of paper that was carefully tucked behind the pocket square.

 “What is it?” The rookie asked. 

 Castiel squinted as he carefully unfolded the page. The paper was thin and the print small, but a passage was circled in red ink. “The Lord is my light and my salvation- whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1,” Castiel read out loud.

 “It’s a Bible verse?”

 Castiel nodded, standing to show Sam. “But that isn’t the alarming part,” he said slowly before pointing to the scrawl in red pen that read: ME. 

  Later that night

 “It was seriously fucked up, Dean. No wonder Novak never sleeps! It wasn’t just the stab wound, though. I’ve seen a murder victim before. It was the rest of it.” 

 Dean laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He tossed an old hacky sack up in the air and caught it. He was bored out of his fucking mind. He needed to get a writing job sooner rather than later, before he turned into one of those guys who spent Friday night on the couch in pants with an elastic waistband, a bowl of popcorn, and a blow up doll that was still too tired to fuck him. 

 He sat up and tossed the ball into the trash. Complacency be gone! “Rest of it?” Dean asked, distracted. Sam poked his head into Dean’s bedroom, his hair up in one of those god awful man buns that made Dean a little sick to his stomach. “Fucking really, Pebbles?”

 Sam exhaled out of his nose in a huff. “Shut up.” 

 “Need me to sleep with you tonight so you won’t get nightmares about the big bad murderer who is killing bad guys, or is Bambam going to protect you?” 

 “You’re such an ass,” he complained, walking back out of the bedroom. 

 Dean snorted and hopped out of bed, following his younger brother. “Sam, Sam, hey. I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in surrender. 

 “You done?”

 “Yeah, yeah. I’m done.” 

 His brother searched his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to detect a lie. Once he was clearly satisfied, he continued. “He was moved to the scene, so it was intended for him to be found, and he had these burn marks.” 

 “On his body? Like the brand? That’d be some divine intervention.” 

 “No, not like that. It was on the ground next to his body. It almost… hell, they looked like giant wings that were burnt out in the grass.” 

 Dean scratched his jaw and looked at his brother. He could’ve been ten years old again. They’ve drank together, and Dean took him to the strip club for his eighteenth birthday, but Sammy was still his baby brother. At the end of the day he’d do anything for him, no matter how much he teased. “You were so fucked up a month ago about him gettin’ away.” 

 “I was,” he agreed with a sigh. “I just… It shouldn’t have been this way.” 

 “The guy is dead, Sammy. He can’t hurt anyone else. Doesn’t matter which way it happened. You’re really tellin’ me this isn’t a win?”

 “It’s more complicated than that,” Sam said cautiously with a heavy sigh, leaning his body against the wall next to the bathroom door.

 “Why?” Dean crossed his arms and looked up at his brother. “Seems like good riddance to me. Ain’t nothin’ worth beatin’ yourself up about.”

 “Maybe… I don’t know.” Sam walked back into the bathroom, shutting the door. “We swapped one bad guy for another, you know?” 

 “Right, but this guy kills other killers. Crowley kidnapped and murdered teenagers.” 

 “The law doesn’t really work that way,” Sam laughed dryly, opening back up the door and stepping out in his pajama pants. “A vigilante is still a criminal.” 

 Dean frowned at him and followed him into the kitchen. “So you’re saying Batman is a criminal?”

 “Batman is a comic book character, Dean.” He reached up and pulled out a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet. 

 “He has movies, too,” he grumbled in response.

 “But yes, for all intensive purposes, Batman would be a criminal. Good doesn’t just cancel out the bad, and bad definitely doesn’t cancel out more bad,” Sam said while he spread peanut butter on a slice of bread.

 He watched Sam’s wrist paint the peanut butter on both slices just like Dean taught him when they were kids, and his chest squeezed. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

 His baby brother offered him a small smile and a nod. “Yeah, I think I know that. Learned it from you.” 

 “Hey,” Dean said dismissively. “No chick flick moments, okay?”

 “Right.” 

 “Give me that.” He took the knife from Sam. “You’re not doing enough peanut butter. This is going to be a dry ass sandwich.” He scooped another dollop of peanut butter onto the bread and pushed it out evenly. “Want crust?”

 “Crust is good for you.” 

 Dean shoved the knife back into the jar and put his hands on his hips, staring at his brother. “Jesus, Sam. Out of everythin’ you’ve gotten from me, and you still don’t get it? Food is good. It tastes fuckin’ delicious. It ain’t about bein’ healthy. How much beer and pie do you think are on that weird ass pyramid? Not enough is the answer you’re lookin’ for!” He shook his head, plucking the knife out of the jar, licking peanut butter off the blade before pressing it into the bread to cut off the crust. 

 “Thanks,” Sam said, smiling a bit as he took half the sandwich from his brother. 

 “Welcome.” The brothers pressed the sandwiches together in a cheers motion. “So, uh, how’s Novak handlin’ the case? Got his perfect panties in a bunch?” Dean asked before shoving part of the sandwich in his mouth to keep him from saying too much. 

 Sam raised an eyebrow. “He’s surprisingly unaffected.”

 “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

 “Why do you care?” Sam asked, plopping the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, some peanut butter on the corner of his mouth. Dean instinctively reached forward and wiped it off Sam’s mouth with his sleeve, like he used to when they were kids. His younger brother batted his hand away. 

 “I don’t care.” 

 “Okay, sure,” Sam snorted, unconvinced. He reached into the fridge and grabbed a beer, twisting of the cap, and leaned up against the counter, taking a swig. 

 “So any news on that cute lab tech?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, redirecting the conversation far away from the stern detective with his sparkling blue eyes. “Eileen?”

 “She isn’t a lab tech,” Sam complained, walking into the living room and settling onto the couch. “What about her?”

 “You ask her out yet?” 

 “I’m there to work, Dean. You know, solve cases, catch murderers. Not socialize.”

 “Well you’re doing a shit job, kid. There’s a murder you need to solve and nothin’ has gotten done about it.”

 “What murder?” Sam asked, squinting his eyes skeptically.

 “The murder of your goddamn social life.” Dean laughed, tossing the pillow from the armrest at his brothers head, barely missing his beer by an inch. “It’s Friday night for god sakes and you’re eating a peanut butter sandwich in flannel pajama pants.” All he needs is the blow up doll! “It’s fuckin’ pitiful.”

 “Shut the fuck up. It’s my night off, and I’m gonna watch Game of Thrones. What are you doing tonight?”

 “Not that.” Dean rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Come out with me. You can watch your nerd show later.” 

 “This is the highest rated show on television right now, Dean.” 

 “Hey, are you sure that Eileen is deaf? She may just be fuckin’ with you so she doesn’t have to listen to a grown ass man talk about dragons.” 

 Sam clicked on the television, shooting Dean a sideways glance. “You’re suck a dick.”

 “I’m just kiddin’, kid.” He leaned in and ruffled his brothers hair, pulling the elastic tie, releasing his hair from the bun. 

 “Seriously?”

 “I’ll be back late, don’t wait up.” Dean slid into his leather jacket, laughing like he was so goddamn proud of himself, because he was. “I’m going for a stiff one.” He smirked. “And maybe a drink.”

 “Wear a condom!” Sam shouted, tossing a pillow at him from the couch. Dean dodged effortlessly, laughing as he shut the door behind him. He jogged down the stairs and out into the cool evening. He pulled his jacket together to keep the elements from invading. 

 It was rainy season in the city. Women struggled with umbrellas to keep their hair and expensive wardrobes in tact, but nothing stopped the puddles from invading their fake Prada shoes. Dean didn’t mind the rain. It cleared him of his sins and sometimes it just felt good to be in the moment without any kind of veil. Sometimes he just wanted to be.

 The Winchester brothers lived close to the precinct, so Dean shouldn’t have been surprised when he entered a bar full of police officers. He shook the rain out of his hair and wiped his feet on the mat by the door. He instinctively scanned the bar for a place to sit and someone to buy a drink for when his eyes landed on a pair of slumped shoulders. Messy dark hair against a gray button up with the sleeves pushed up. Dean more often than not dated women. He was more experienced in that department, and that kept him in a place of emotional safety. Stay in your lane, he’d remind himself, but that never stopped him from flirting. It never stopped him from looking either and as he eyed the tired, disheveled man in front of him he wondered if maybe his lane could widen a little, just once.

 Dean put on his best stride to approach the bar, already digging his wallet out to offer to buy the guy a drink when the man at the bar turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder. His blue eyes caught a neon sign, causing them to glow brilliantly in the low light from the bar. “Well tickle my pickle, is that you, Detective?” Dean asked with a large grin as he approached Castiel at the bar rail. He hadn’t known it was the detective at first, but the happy surprise left his stomach in knots, twisting into itself. Guess he couldn’t shake Cas as easily as he originally anticipated. 

 “Did I do something in a past life to warrant this terrible karma?” The detective asked, turning to see Dean and meeting him with a squint.

 “Aw, terrible, really? Let me buy you a drink. It’ll bring your karma around.” Dean grinned, sitting down on the barstool next to Castiel, and holding out the cash that he’d already fished from his wallet.

 “No, thank you.”

 “I’ll take a scotch, neat,” Dean said offering the bartender a smile, before turning toward Castiel. The detective had a world of weight on his shoulders. It looked like he would collapse into himself at a moment's notice. So Dean offered a soft spoken olive branch. “Sammy told me about Crowley.”

 “He shouldn’t have,” Novak said, taking a sip from his own glass. “It’s still an open investigation.”

 “He can’t hurt anyone else. That’s a win,” Dean said gently. “Right?”

 “It’s complicated,” the detective said dismissively, his eyes somewhere else. 

 “So I’ve heard.” He took the glass from the bartender and welcomed the warmth down his throat.

 “Hey nerds. Sorry, the bathroom line was ungodly. I ended up peeing in the men’s,” a woman’s voice said from behind them. Dean turned to catch a redhead with a large grin, and a beer in her hand. She wore a bright pink tank top that was tied off at her waist. It had a unicorn on it. She was pretty, and fuck he was jealous. 

 “Shit.” Dean’s heart sank into his stomach, sending him swerving back into his own lane like he was avoiding a deer on the highway. “Sorry Cas, I didn’t know you were on a date.”

 “With me?” The woman laughed shaking her head. “No offense, Sweetie, but hell no.”

 “Ouch,” Castiel feigned hurt, holding his chest dramatically, and Dean had to look at Castiel and then look again. He was playing up the drama? He was playing? Maybe he was happier with Crowley dead than what Sam had originally suggested. Maybe wound up tightly wasn’t his normal resting state, after all. 

 “I’m single as a Pringle. Fly by the wind and all that.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Who are you?”

 “Dean Winchester.” He offered his hand out to her like a total dork. He stared at his own extended hand like, what? Is this a business meeting? 

 “Winchester? Like Sam?”

 “His big brother,” Dean said with a proud smile, the knots in his stomach untangling at the brush of their fingers. She shook his hand with an impressive grip, and he could hear Castiel snort next to him. Dean glanced at the detective to catch him muffling a laugh. Holy fuck, he’s laughing! If he was being honest, Dean didn’t think that was possible, but damn he was cute when he smiled. 

 “Color me surprised,” she grinned widely, letting go of his hand. “I’m Charlie Bradbury. I work at the precinct with your brother and Cranky here.” Charlie grabbed Castiel’s shoulder, shaking him slightly, invoking another smile. 

 Dean mirrored her smile. Seeing the detective loosen up a bit was giving him energy that pulsed through his veins like some kind of drug. “I thought I was the only one who called him that!”

 “It’s a universal name.”

 “Aren’t you supposed to be my friend?” Castiel grumbled at her, looking back into his glass as if there was something written on the ice cubes. 

 “Aw, Cas. Don’t live up to your nickname! It’s Friday night. Just let loose. In fact, let’s dance,” Charlie pleaded, offering him a hand. She wiggled her fingers at him as an invitation. She was unbearably cute, and if Dean was being honest, he could see how she would be irresistible in the same way that a kitten was. Charlie had this bright bubbly personality, matched with her fiery red curls, and glow of general goodness that radiated off of her. She was the kind of person that attracted other people. 

 “I don’t dance,” the detective said flatly, his nose damn near buried in his drink.

 “You do now,” Charlie insisted, grabbing his hand, and yanking him out to the dance floor. She pulled the stumbling detective behind her. With her small stature, Dean knew that Castiel could’ve prevented her from pulling him out to the dance floor if he really wanted to, but he let himself be pulled anyway. 

 Dean finished his glass, ordering another, as he watched Charlie dance around Castiel. She bumped into him, took his hand so he could spin her. He started off stiff, looking awkward as Charlie moved his hands for him. The more embarrassingly she danced, singing in his ear along with the music, the more Castiel laughed and loosened up.

  He’s got a kryptonite after all.

 He watched Charlie imitate a shopping trip, miming grabbing items off the shelf and putting them in her shopping cart, while rolling her hips dramatically. She was teaching a line dance to Castiel when her eyes caught Dean’s. He laughed, shooting her a thumbs up, and took a swig from his glass. Charlie narrowed her eyes on Dean and danced over to him, leaving Castiel alone, looking unbelievably relieved. “Okay, Dean, lets go. Nobody likes a lurker.” She wiggled her fingers at him, encouraging him to join the dumpster fire that was the two of them dancing. 

 “You want me to dance?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

 “No, I’m asking you to blow up the Death Star. Yes I’m asking you to dance!”

  Fuck, she’s cool. He shrugged. Watching the detective dance was a sight, but dancing with him was something else altogether. Something that he was dying to try out for himself. “Sure thing, Leia.” He finished his drink, took her hand, and let her pull him to where Castiel was standing alone.

 “Detective.” He winked at Castiel and shimmied toward him, moving his shoulders, and reaching his arms like he was going to pull the detective to him. Cas turned his nose away from Dean like he didn’t notice the impossibly loud dance moves.

 Dean frowned and turned to Charlie, taking her hand and spinning her in circles. “Dean I’m dizzy!” She laughed, letting go of his hand. 

 He glanced again at Cas. How could a man be so damn beautiful, but also be so awkward? The detective looked awkward in his own skin, tugging on a stray thread on his suspenders, his eyes trying to look anywhere but in Dean’s direction, or at least that’s what it seemed like to Dean. When Cas finally looked at him, Dean attempted to lasso him with an invisible rope, grinning widely. He was met with a hard, unimpressed stare, and Dean let his arms fall to his sides before closing the space between himself and Castiel. “Come on, don’t be a square,” he teased, shouting over the music. “You know you like it! You don’t have to fight it, Detective, you’re not on the clock!”

 “I most certainly do not love it,” Novak said sharply. He was stiff as a board, standing so tightly in place that Dean worried he might pull something, or that his pretty face might get permanently stuck in a stoney scowl. All he wanted to do was reach out, touch the skin on Cas’ cheek, and blend into him. He wanted to understand him, but more than anything he wanted to kiss that annoyed scowl right off his face. 

 “Cranky,” Charlie and Dean said at the same time with a laugh, turning to high five each other. 

 “I am not cranky!” Castiel shouted with a huff. If he were in a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears. 

 “You are, man,” Dean said gently. “It’s fine. It’s just your personality. Nothin’ wrong with that.” 

  No person can be perfect. Gotta have one flaw, at least. 

 Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean before turning dramatically, walking back to the bar. He took a step after the detective, his hand out like he was reaching for him, but he stopped with a sigh.“Did I say the wrong thing?” He asked, turning to Charlie. “I don’t get him, but he’s Sammy’s partner so I want him to like me. Ya know?” 

 He watched the detective push through the crowd of people, his suspenders illuminated by the strobe light. He could tell, even from this far away, that Castiel held a lot of stress in his shoulders. He walked tightly, like he was fighting a leg cramp. 

 “Cas barely likes himself, Dean. I wouldn’t take it personally,” she said dismissively.

 “He seems to like you.”

 “Well, yeah. He’s human, of course he likes me,” Charlie laughed brightly, reaching out to touch his arm.

 Dean snorted. She was confident, and he had a real thing for confident women. Confident, pretty, nerdy redheads. Charlie Bradbury was a dangerous combination of everything Dean looked for in a woman. “Touché.”

 “We have history, you know? We’ve known each other since high school. I’d do anything for him. He’s my person.” She squeezed his bicep gently, and Dean nodded in response. He did know. Sam was his. “Here’s the thing about Cas, he doesn’t open up easily. He’s really guarded, protected, but if you stick around and fight for it, when he does open up… it’s just, wow. He’s got the prettiest heart, Dean. It’s like stained glass.”

 He could picture it, then, Castiel’s chest opening up like cathedral doors, exposing a large stained glass portrait of his heart. It would glint and glow from the sun pouring through it, creating colorful warmth that’d bathe Dean when he stood under it. He’d feel warm, he’d feel whole. 

 “I am not cranky,” Castiel said, breaking the image in his mind, shattering the glass behind his eyes. He’d returned with a tray of shots in his hands, and Dean raised an eyebrow, his mind redirecting from the daydream to the real thing. “I’m not cranky, and I’m certainly not boring. You’ll see,” Castiel grumbled, meeting Dean’s eyes, before taking two of the six shots.

 ”Oh fuck yes!” Dean grinned and grabbed one from him, unable to resist the urge of seeing Castiel through an alcoholic lense. He clinked glasses with Charlie and they swallowed the shots together. “Guess we are in for an interesting night after all.”

 After four rounds of shots Castiel proved that he indeed was not boring. Not that Dean needed any convincing. With every ounce of liquor it was harder and harder for him to pretend that everything that came out of Dean’s mouth wasn’t entertaining, despite being incredibly childish, and Dean was eating up every second of it. He was high on the sound of Cas’ laugh.

 “Okay, okay, so.”

 “Get on with it, Winchester.” Charlie giggled, sipping out of her Pina Colada. She’d finally given in two drinks ago stating, I don’t give a shit. I am a feminist, and I can drink a fucking flirty drink with an umbrella if I goddamn want to! “We don’t have all night.”

 “Right,” Dean said, letting out a puff of air. His cheeks were warm and his head was swimming from alcohol. It was hard to focus, not taking into account the loud music pounding in the background, and Castiel’s thigh brushing his on the couch in the lounge area of the bar. It took everything in Dean not to just stare at it, the heat beneath the detective’s slacks burning a hole through his jeans. He cleared his throat, urging his leg to move away, but he pressed a little closer instead. “So, Sammy comes home the other night and starts digging around in the book shelves, and I’m like, bro what’re you lookin’ for? And he’s like, mind your fuckin’ business. That’s rude, right? Fuck, I’m his brother. Excuse me if I care. Anyway, he is looking for his old sign language books because he has a thing for your crime tech.”

 “Eileen?” Charlie gasped, chewing on her cherry. “Oh my god, yes! I ship them!”

 “You do what?” Cas narrowed his eyes at Charlie. One of his suspenders was slipping off his shoulder, like a girls dress strap. It felt like he was about to spill out, like Dean might get a chance to see the man behind the facade, but only if he was really looking closely. 

 “Ship, like relationship? Christ, Cas. You’re like an old man.” She rolled her eyes. “Hey, watch.”

 Dean raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly for Charlie to do something. She just sat there, looking serious. Her eyebrows were knit together, and her lips twitched. Suddenly it occurred to him that maybe she was just as drunk as he was. Maybe she thought she could levitate or something. “Got it,” she murmured, sticking out her tongue.

 “Holy shit.”

 She had tied her cherry stem in a perfect knot. She stood up and bowed, handing Dean the knot. It was a short stem, and Dean was impressed, to say the least. 

 “Damn, woman. You’ve got some serious skills.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Bet you can put those to use.” He leaned forward a little instinctively, feeling an emptiness as Castiel’s thigh left his, but he’d denied every advance that Dean made. Maybe he was straight. Maybe Dean was just that bad at picking people. 

 “And I do,” she said smoothly. “But, Deano, I hate to break it to you, you’ll never find out first hand.” Charlie reached back for her drink, sticking her straw between her lips like a tease, making Dean suck his breath in. 

 “Aw.” He poked out his bottom lip in a pout. “Way to set fire to that fantasy. Is it my hair?” He touched the top of his head.

 “No, sweetie. It’s your penis.” She eyed his pants, biting the straw as a sad attempt to hide her smile.

 “You don’t know that my penis is no good! It’s good, I promise! I have references.” Dean may have been imagining it from all the alcohol, but he could’ve sworn that he heard Castiel suck in his breath. 

 “Oh my sweet summer child.” Charlie touched his hand. She was kind, letting him down easy. It was unlikely that the night would end with a drink in his face, and most of the time that was all that Dean could ask for when it came to sexual advances. “I like women.”

 Deans eyebrows shot up. That was unexpected. Yup, my gaydar is shit. “My fantasy is officially reignited.” He laughed, squeezing her hand in his.

 Charlie rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away from his. “Good lord. you’re such a guy.”

 Dean turned his head to the detective, who was surprisingly quiet during the exchange. “Cas, can you tie a knot in a cherry stem with your tongue?” He asked, eyeing Castiel, leaning in to him. The temporary distraction that he’d gotten from Charlie had dissolved as quickly as it had begun, and he was hyper focused back on Cas. 

 “I don’t know.”

 Dean grabbed a spare cherry stem from Charlie’s previous drink and plopped it into his mouth. He locked eyes with Castiel and worked his tongue along the cherry stem, twisting it in his mouth. Dean couldn’t tell if it was the buzz, the low lightning, or if he was really seeing it right, but he could’ve sworn he saw Cas swallow.

 Once the knot was secure Dean stuck out his tongue, offering up the perfect knot. “I still got it.” He grinned and winked, his eyes still settled on Cas’ blue ones. “For you, Detective.” He handed Castiel the slobbery cherry stem, and to his surprise Castiel took it, curling his fist around it. His eyes never leaving Dean’s.

   Three days later

 “So,” Charlie said, leaning over Castiel’s desk.

 “So, what?” He glared at Charlie over the steam from his cup of coffee. He was so fucking tired. After the night at the club he had spent the rest of the weekend alone mulling over the case and eating cold Ramen. He didn't make much progress, which added to his deep seeded annoyance. 

 “Dean.” She poked his cheek. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. Holy shit, he was so cute.”

 “Please. He is a reckless child.” Plus, Castiel assumed by his flirtations with Charlie that he was straight, despite his earlier impression from Crossroads. He didn’t need to go down that road, no matter how boyishly handsome Dean was, and no matter how much disappointment settled into his chest when he thought about Dean’s freckled cheeks and striking green eyes. Feelings were a menace, and Castiel preferred not to have them when he could help it. 

 “Exactly, opposites attract.”

 He rolled his eyes at that, taking a sip from his coffee. “I’m too busy for relationships.” Charlie should’ve known his situation better than anyone. He was too busy to find the keys to unlock the dozens of dead bolts locking his heart away within himself. 

 “I didn’t say marry him. Just like...” Her eyes glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention. “Just fuck him. You could use a release, Cranky.”

 Heat rose up Castiel’s neck and into his face. “You can’t say things like that,” he hissed. His private life was private for a reason, and he’d be damned if he crossed a professional line at work. 

 “What? You are pent up.”

 “Not that. You can’t be so explicit,” he whispered. 

 Charlie rolled her eyes and adjusted the butterfly clip in her hair. “Okay, right, sorry.” She huffed and leaned in closer, her eyes challenging him. “Just admit that you want to, and I’ll leave it alone.”

 He narrowed his blue eyes at Charlie, begging her to shut the fuck up for once in her life. “What I want is irrelevant,” he decided. At the end of the day, she was still Charlie, and he couldn’t fake it with her. 

 “Well, that’s just not true.” She laughed. “Come on, just go for it. What is there to lose?”

 He sighed, rubbing his forehead. He was too damn tired. Where should he even start? “Well, he’s my partner’s brother, first of all.” He took another drink of his coffee. 

 “You talking about Dean?” Sam asked, walking up with a fresh coffee mug in his hand.

 “What?” Castiel choked on his own coffee. It burned shooting down his windpipe and for a second he felt like he was drowning. Drowning and caught. 

 “I just heard you say ‘your partner’s brother’. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Sam said sheepishly. “Sorry, Dean’s such a pain. He really does feel bad about messing things up with Crowley...”

 Castiel waved him off when he realized that Sam only caught the tail end of the conversation. “It’s in the past. Best we move on?”

 Charlie snorted, and Sam raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, okay. He will be happy to hear that you aren’t mad.”

 “Why would he care if I was mad?” Castiel eyed him, his curiosity peaked. He placed his mug down on the desk, focusing on keeping his expression emotionless. 

 “Don’t know, but he asks about you every day. Probably just making sure he didn’t ruin things for me here.” Sam shrugged, putting his coffee back to his lips. “So, any new leads on the Crowley murder?”

 “Nothing,” Castiel sighed, rubbing his face, Dean’s apple green eyes pushed to the back of his mind at the mention of the case.

 Charlie reached forward and grabbed Cas’ coffee, taking a few eager gulps. 

 “Well, Dean keeps saying good riddance. So maybe we should just take it as a win.”

 “Do you really believe that?” He asked, examining his partners muscles tensing in his forearms. 

 “Trying to,” Sam admitted, flexing his fingers, releasing the tension. “I figure it’s better than losing sleep over a scumbag.”

 “Good point.” He stood up, stretching, letting his neck pop. He’d been sitting in that same damn chair for much too long. “Get back to work, Rookie. I may not have a lead, but maybe you can find something I’ve missed.” He turned his back to Sam to grab some additional papers from the filing cabinet next to his desk. 

 “Novak,” Sam cleared his throat, causing Castiel to glance over his shoulder. “I was wondering if you’d want to grab dinner with me sometime? My treat,” he offered with a wide smile.

 “Why?” Castiel eyed him suspiciously, his eyebrows coming together.

 “To say thank you,” Sam said quickly, running his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “For your patience with me. For mentoring me.”

 “Wasn’t exactly my choice.” He raised an eyebrow, covering a smirk growing on his mouth with his fingers.

 Charlie elbowed him in the ribs. “He would love to go. It’ll be a million times better than eating leftover pizza or Ramen noodles again. Right, Cas?”

 “Right,” he mumbled. He didn’t want to be boring and antisocial, after all.

 “Awesome! Just let me know when you’re free,” Sam said quickly, looking relieved.

 “I will.” Cas looked at his watch and stood up. “I’ll check my calendar and get back to you.” He shrugged into his jacket and adjusted his tie.

 “Where are you going?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

 “Court,” Castiel grunted. “I am testifying for an old case that’s finally going to trial.”

 “Ain’t no rest for the wicked,” Charlie said with a nod, before resting a hand on his shoulder. “Put ‘em away, big guy.”

 Cas nodded knowingly. “I’ll try my best, ma’am.”

  Later that day

 “And how does the jury find the defendant?”

 “Not guilty on all charges.”

 The sound of the judges gavel knocking against the bench echoed through Castiel’s mind. It was haunting, like a knock on the door late at night when he wasn’t expecting a guest, or the sound of a shutter clicking against the windowpane from the wind. 

 Lucas Azazel’s jaundiced eyes locked with Castiel’s. He gave a sinister smile and a wink. He got off on a fluke. He was a rapist, and he’d been raping his young daughter since she was a toddler, sneaking into her room and doing unexplainable things. He did things that made Castiel lose the little sleep he got. The man was ill and dying of liver failure, which was the main reason the daughter finally came forward. She didn’t think he could hurt her anymore if the trial went exactly the way it went that day. 

 Even though he was a criminal, and the case was open and shut, the jury found him innocent- on a technicality. By law he was liable for what he did, because he was her father. He was in a position of trust, so even though he claimed she consented, it wouldn’t matter. He was the parent, and she was the child. Legally she couldn’t consent. The jury, on the other hand, didn’t think he was in a position of trust. They claimed she didn’t trust him because she was afraid of him. The fuck she didn’t.

 Castiel pushed out of the courthouse into the rainy afternoon, past the on-lookers, past Azazel’s daughter’s muffled sobs, and past the thick, suffocating air. He gasped for breath, needing the freshness, begging for oxygen. He stumbled down the stairs and slammed his fists onto the cold, stone pillar that held up the lip of the courthouse roof. He pressed his forehead against the damp, cool stone, hoping for clarity that never came. How could he do everything right and still not be able to put the perp away? It was a fucking technicality! He was a monster and it didn’t even matter. It didn’t make a lick of difference. What was the fucking point of even trying?

 Castiel couldn’t get the image of Azazel’s daughter, Jess, out of his head. Her big blue eyes spilled over with tears, her face red as she collapsed into the arms of her mother, who had stroked her hair, murmuring promises that she could never keep. Their only saving grace was that, hopefully, he was too sick to hurt anyone ever again, but Castiel wasn’t hopeful. He was rarely hopeful and every day on the job that a criminal walked, he was less and less so.

 “Detective?”

 Castiel let out a breath, the heat from it fogging up around his face. He would recognize that gravelly voice anywhere. “Hello, Dean.” He wanted to stay there, against the pillar, and disappear within it, but then there was Dean . 

 “Are you... are you okay?”

 He sighed, forcing himself off the pillar, turning toward Dean. He could feel his face wilting, the lack of sleep over the trial evident in every wrinkle and sag in his cheeks and under his eyes. “Just a rough case,” he admitted. “What are you doing here?” He straightened his spine, trying to pull himself back together. 

 “Parking tickets.” Dean waved the papers with a sheepish smile. His eyelashes held the mist from the rain, making his eyes glisten in a way that was extremely calming.

 “Parking tickets?” Castiel asked, confused. His voice was rough with emotion, as he tried his best to focus on Dean’s eyelashes, the freckles on his cheeks, anything other than Azazel and the trial. “You live in New York, why do you even have a car?”

 “They’re from when I first moved.” Dean scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks pink. He looked cute, Castiel noticed. “Before I put my Baby in storage, I had her parked in the street. Didn’t realize it’d be a shit show trying to find parking in the city. Thought that Sammy would waive them for me since he’s a cop, but no dice. He’s a slut for the law, ya know?”

 Castiel smiled at that, the claws that were twisted around his lungs loosened their grip, allowing him to breathe a little deeper. “Yeah, the kid sure is.” 

 They stood there for a moment, an electric, palpable silence between them. There was something calming about Dean’s presence, he was like a rain track, the sound of his breathing slowed Castiel’s heart rate. His fingers twitched at his side as he tried to avoid reaching his finger’s out to touch Dean’s. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets, picking at the lint inside. 

 Dean chewed on his lip like he was considering something, his eyes flickering up to Castiel’s and then back down to his feet. “Hey, Detective? Would you want to get out of here? Maybe grab a bite. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. There’s a good burger place not too far,” he offered, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. 

 His eyes met Deans -  they were moss green and kind. He rolled a piece of lint between his index finger and thumb, considering the invitation. “Don’t you need to pay your tickets?”

 Dean shrugged, shoving them hastily into his pocket. “I think I’d rather be on the run from the law than being a law abiding citizen. It’ll get Sammy in a tizzy, plus it’s a lot sexier. It fits my aesthetic.” He grinned widely.

 Castiel laughed in response, running his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t quite ready to let Dean walk away from him just yet. “Burgers, huh?”

 “Best in New York.”

 “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  A half hour later

 Sitting across from Dean Winchester at a crappy diner was the last place Castiel expected to be on that rainy afternoon. “Alright, it’s judgement time.” Dean grinned, holding a greasy french fry between his fingers.

 Castiel chewed his bite of burger thoughtfully. It was delicious, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had to give Dean that one. He knew a good burger. “Damn, you’re right.” He allowed the smallest smile to peek out from behind the burger, before taking another bite.

 “I knew it!” Dean grinned wildly, shoving his fry into his chocolate milk shake, and plopping it into his mouth eagerly.

 “That is disgusting,” Castiel commented. And juvenile. 

 “What? Do you live under a rock, Detective? This is a damn delicacy.” Dean dipped another fry in the shake. “Open up.”

 “No way.”

 “Open up, or it’s gettin’ all over your face and as funny as that’d be I’m sure you’d be pissed. That’d be a shame ‘cause I kinda think you’re havin’ fun.”

 He rolled his eyes in response and opened his mouth, allowing Dean to place the fry on his tongue. There was something incredibly erotic about being fed by Dean, his eyes partly closed, only showing a tint of green as the sweet and salty snack touched Cas’ tongue. Dean ran his tongue over his own bottom lip, mimicking Castiel as he tasted the snack. Their eyes met, Dean’s finger brushing Castiel’s bottom lip. It was intimate, like they were the only two in the diner, in the world. “Fine, you’re right,” he said, breathlessly. “It’s delicious.”

 “Told ya.” Dean smiled.

 Who would’ve known that Dean Winchester had an award winning smile? No matter how annoying he was, Castiel couldn’t help but smile when Dean did. It was infectious. He would give anything to watch Dean smile over and over again, and he had not realized until that moment.

 “Glad to see you aren’t pissed at me,” Dean said, dipping another fry.

 “I was never pissed at you.”

 “Sure.”

 “I wasn’t,” Cas said flatly. “Being pissed would indicate caring.” He shrugged dismissively, staring back at his plate.

 “Right. The cold, hard detective has no feelings. I buy it.”

 “It’s my aesthetic,” he teased, using Dean’s words against him, his eyes flickering up for just a second, catching Dean staring intently. Castiel swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks heat up under Dean’s gaze. 

 “Right.” Dean snickered in response. “Guess we are quite the pair.”

 “I suppose we are.”

 Castiel settled on Dean’s lips, and he had this extreme urge to lean across the table and taste the milkshake on them, but he refrained. Everything he told Charlie before was true. Dean was likely straight, Cas didn’t date, and even if he did, he would not date Dean Winchester.

 “Want to talk about what happened back at the courthouse?” Dean asked casually, pulling apart the paper wrapper from his straw.

 “Not really.”

 “Well, I’m here if you change your mind.”

 “Trying to get a story for the paper?”

 “Nah, just trying to be a good friend.” Dean eyed Castiel. “Hope you’d think a little more of me, Detective.”

 “I do,” he admitted. He knew that Dean wouldn’t exploit him. He was a good man. He could tell by the way he protected Krystal at the club, and the way he was around Sam. He was a smartass, but he was a good man nonetheless. His eyes met Dean’s and suddenly he wanted to tell him everything. “The longer I’m in this job, and the more evil I see... the less I can sleep. Sometimes I feel like I’m just doing damage control. It’s hard to get a conviction, even on a true criminal. How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that?”

 “I bet it’d be hard.” 

 Dean was looking at him, his eyes flickered up to Cas’, and he sucked in his breath, his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowing for just a moment.

 “It is,” he agreed, pressing his own lips together, trying not to breathe in every one of Dean’s exhales. The table suddenly felt incredibly small, and Cas was conscious of the toe of Dean’s boot brushing against his dress shoe. 

 He reached forward and touched the top of Castiel’s hand, and Dean brushed his fingers along his knuckles. They both let out a breath that they’d been holding, as if their hands touching gave them permission. 

 “You can’t save them all, Cas.”

 “I was just telling Sam that…” Castiel laughed bitterly, before letting out a ragged sigh. “And what about the ones I can’t save?” He asked desperately, his eyes wet along the edges. He twisted his fingers up, touching the length of Dean’s fingers. They were surprisingly soft, apart from a small callous on his middle finger from where his pen rested. “What about them? All of that up to God?”

 Dean smiled sadly and shook his head, opening his palm wider, allowing Cas to run their fingers together absentmindedly. “Sammy may believe that, but I don’t. I don’t think God cares about us anymore. It’s just up to us.”

 “Us?”

 “Humankind,” Dean clarified smiling sheepishly. “But maybe you and I, too.” He squeezed Castiel’s hand, causing his heart to flutter under Dean’s touch.

 “Our mom… I dunno if Sammy told you, but she died when he was a baby.” 

 “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling sick. There was so much death. He could feel Dean’s fingers chill under his, and Castiel brought his other hand on top of Dean’s to shield him from whatever pain that he could. 

 “She was murdered. It was arson, but the police didn’t ever bring anyone in. There wasn’t enough evidence...resources. It’s not right. Sometimes it feels like there’s no fuckin’ justice.” 

 Castiel would’ve thought that Dean would be worked up, exasperated, but in reality he looked more sad. He looked defeated. “Sometimes it does.”

 “Don’t you wish you could do more, Detective?”

 “Every day.” He released Dean’s hand, letting his palms fall to his lap. He looked down at his burger and suddenly he wasn’t hungry. His stomach churned again. 

 “The system is broken, Cas. I just hope I can do my part.” 

 Castiel thought about that, while breaking up a fry on his plate. Dean was a reporter, and they always felt like enemy number one to a police officer. Everything that was written in the Times felt twisted. It felt a little too much like propaganda, but if it were Dean... Dean, knowing what he knew about Castiel and Sam, saying all the right things about justice. Maybe he could make a difference. Maybe he could instill change. 

 “You seem thoughtful, Detective. What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

 Castiel looked up at him, alarmed. His brain ran a circle, trying to find something to say. Anything to say. “Sam... Sam asked me to dinner.”

 “Like a date?” He chuckled. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re his type.”

 “No, not as a date.” Castiel laughed awkwardly, shifting in his seat. “He invited me out to say thank you for mentoring him, but truth be told, he’s teaching me a few things.”

 “The kid’s good for that.”

 “He is.”

 “I wouldn’t be who I am without Sam. He is good. Better than I’ll ever be.”

 “I hope he can be that for me, too.” Cas smiled, looking down at his lap.

 Dean reached forward and hooked his index finger under Castiel’s chin, tilting it up. “Detective, you are good.”

 “You don’t know that.”

 “Bad people don’t carry this much guilt. Your shoulders are heavy. Maybe it’s time you let someone else carry some of that burden.” He smiled warmly at Castiel, almost as if to say I’ve got strong enough shoulders to carry the weight for the both of us. 

  Two weeks later

 Castiel loved New York City. He was one of those New Yorkers that had it in his blood. He wasn’t a dreamer, someone who came over from Podunk Nowhere to try his hand in the arts. He wasn’t filled with love, hope, and Chanel No 5. Castiel was a New Yorker. His blood was dirty rainwater, subway tickets, and Nolita’s twenty-four hour pizza. He held his computer bag close to him, the strap across his chest like a seat belt. The air had a brisk chill, despite the exhaust pumping out of the cabs and into the street. He wanted coffee, needed some sunlight, Charlie insisted on it, and he couldn’t get what Dean said about his mom out of his head. So he left his shoebox of an apartment and went in search of caffeine.

 The woman at the coffee counter smiled at him when he ordered his Americano, but he looked right past her. It wasn’t his intention to be rude, he just hadn’t been sleeping. He needed more than the single mug he was given, he needed an IV drip. 

 Growing up gay made him a tough child, one not to be messed with. He didn’t have any other choice but to create a hard outer exterior. Sometimes distance was the only way. Castiel punched a little boy in the school yard for calling him a faggot. He went to the principal’s office and was given detention for fighting. Castiel’s mother threatened to move them to Staten Island, and he never hit another child again. He walked through the hallways with his head down, his brown locks in his eyes. He could be himself in college. He could fall in love someday. He didn’t have to be so gay. He didn’t have to get in fights.

  “Let people see what they want to see, Castiel,” Gabriel told his little brother, as he dabbed Castiel’s black eye with an ice pack.

  He winced, the pain radiating through his cheekbones and into his nose. “Why do they care, anyway?”

  “Kids are bored. Nosey. Mean.”

  “They aren’t mean to you,” he countered, eyeing his older brother with his one good eye.

  “That’s because I’m funny. I laugh at myself so they can’t.“

  “You aren’t funny,” Castiel said, scrunching up his nose.

  “Hey! I’m hilarious!”

 So, if someone hit him, he let them. He didn’t fight back, even though he wanted to. Things were strict in the Novak house, growing up. The boy’s father was a police officer, a Captain, like Singer. He was rugged, stiff, and angry. He was ex-military, only no longer active duty due to an escalated case of sleep apnea. He raised his boys with a heavy hand. Home was just another place that Castiel had to hide.

 Charlie had been his friend long before they were co-workers. She’d been a thorn in his side since they were fifteen years old. They were each other’s beards, prom dates, and everything in between. She was a beacon in the darkness that was his life. For awhile he suspected that he’d never love someone as much as he loved her. That maybe romance wasn’t in the cards for him. That was until Cas met him. 

 Inias was his next door neighbor. His father was a military man like Castiel’s. They spent the New York summer when they were seventeen working on an old ice cream truck. They’d lay in the grass in the park after a long day, plucking bubble gum eyes out of the frightening cartoon ice cream bars. 

  “These are disgusting,” Inias mused. 

  “You love them,” Castiel combatted, squinting at the beautiful blue eyed boy next to him. He didn’t know if he was gay. He didn’t think he could ask. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Inias. There was something fragile between them. He couldn’t risk breaking it and ruining everything. 

  “You have me confused with someone else.” 

 Castiel shook his head with a wide smile and looked at the melting Tweety Bird. Inias was right, of course, it looked like a horror movie character. A wax sculpture, melting in the hot sun. The grass tickled Castiel’s ears, and the heat felt good on his skin. “I wouldn’t confuse you, Nias. Trust me.” 

 The boy propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Castiel. “You wouldn’t, huh?”

  “That’s what I said,” he deadpanned, not looking at his friend. 

  “What if I looked like this?” Inias asked, putting the ice cream bar too close to Cas’ face. 

  “God, quit! You’re going to get it on me.” He swatted at Inias like he was annoyed, but the boy knew better. 

  “No I won’t!” Inias said, right as he pushed the ice cream bar into Castiel’s lips. “Oops, shit, you made a mess.” 

  “You’re dead.” 

 They chased each other until the ice cream was melted and they were covered in melted dairy and artificial food coloring. They laid in the grass again laughing, staring at the too-blue sky. The day was clear, and the sky was endless despite the skyscrapers cutting into it. Castiel could’ve stayed like that forever, laying in the grass with the boy he wasn’t supposed to like. 

 He didn’t expect it when it happened, when Inias leaned over and pressed a sticky, artificial strawberry flavored kiss to his lips. It was brief and quick, but it left Castiel breathless. His first kiss. It was in the middle of Central Park, on a sunny summer day, with the boy from next door. It felt like a dream. 

 Castiel’s father had caught them in his bedroom a month later. They had been stripped down to their underwear, Inias’ hand on Castiel’s bare chest, Castiel’s lips on Inias’ throat. It was incriminating. Mr. Novak went into a blind rage, and Castiel woke up in the hospital a day later with a broken cheekbone, wrist, and heart. Inias was gone, off to a private Catholic school out of state. 

 He had moved in with Charlie after that, never looking back, and when he was eighteen, his father died in his sleep. He still hadn’t heard from Inias, but he hoped that the boy from next door was still alive. 

 He knew a little something about wanting answers. He didn’t have the resources to fight his own demons, but Dean’s? He was a detective after all. Maybe he could take a look at Mary Winchester’s old cold case. He couldn’t do right by his first love, but maybe he could do better for Dean. 

 He took a sip of his coffee and opened up his laptop, immediately typing away.

  One week later

 “Hey Sammy so I was thinkin’...” Dean poked his head into the bathroom as Sam brushed through his hair, he squinted at his brother through the mirror. “You goin’ somewhere?”

 “Just dinner.”

 “Dinner? Is it a date?” Dean teased.

 “No.” Sam glared at Dean through the mirror, placing the brush on the counter. “I’m having dinner with Novak.”

 “So it is a date! Do you think that’s appropriate, to be taking your partner out, Sammy? Unless! Is he your partner partner?” Dean waited for Sam to counteract, Jesus Dean, he isn’t gay. Stop making it weird! 

 “Shut up, jerk,” Sam said instead.

 “Bitch.” Dean grinned widely, taking the lack of denial as a win. He folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorframe while Sam gargled mouthwash and splashed his face. 

 When he looked up at met Dean’s eyes in the mirror, he rested his palms on the sink. “What, dude? Can I help you?”

 “You seriously not gonna invite me?”

 “You want to go? I got the impression that you and Novak didn’t get along.” Sam dried his face with the hand towel. 

 “We had a moment.” Dean shrugged, the picture of Cas’ face as he tasted the french fry covered in milkshake still perfectly preserved in Dean’s mind. 

 “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 “What I just said. We’re good. Let me go to dinner, and you can bring that cute crime scene tech, too.”

 “Like a double date?”

 “You said it, not me,” Dean said with his hands up, grinning widely. It wasn’t the worst idea that Sam ever had, and the concept got Dean’s stomach flipping. 

 “Christ, Dean. No,” Sam groaned, but Dean knew the look on his face. His eyebrow was quirked and his dimple was making an appearance on his left cheek. He was considering it.

 “It won’t be a date,” Dean promised. He wouldn’t take the detective out to dinner with his brother for a first date, after all. “I was kiddin’, but it may be a good opportunity to get to know everyone better. We can even invite Charlie!”

 “You know Charlie?”

 “Oh, uh, yeah. I met her. She seemed rad.”

 “Rad?” Sam raised his eyebrow. “What’s going on with you?”

 “Just say yes,” Dean begged trying out Sam’s patented puppy dog eyes. “I’ll call Charlie, and she’ll get the tech.”

 “Her name is Eileen.”

 “Fine, she will get Eileen to come. Come on, Sammy! Live a little!” Dean ruffled his brother’s hair. When begging didn’t work, his next go to was to be as annoying as possible. He wasn’t proud of the tactic, but it was effective. 

 “Okay, okay! Just get off my back.” Sam swatted at his brother and tried to fix his mop again.  

 Dean grabbed Sam by the face and placed a big wet kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, bro.”

 “Gross, get the fuck off of me.” Sam laughed, shoving him out of the bathroom. 

 “You love me!” Dean called back, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He went into his closet to find something to wear, because he was seeing the detective, and damn it if it made him sound like a chick, but he was fucking excited. 

 “Do not!”

 Dean made good on his promise and Charlie arrived with Eileen at the restaurant promptly at eight o’clock. Castiel arrived five minutes late. He looked a little more casual than Dean and Sam were used to seeing him. He wore a nice pair of dark jeans, with a light blue button up untucked and a tweed blazer. Dean raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t had a professor fantasy before that exact moment. He adjusted his red flannel, suddenly not feeling as attractive as he had a moment before, and he ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

 “Rookie.” Castiel raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t tell me you invited the entire precinct.”

 “I didn’t.” Sam smiled awkwardly. “Dean invited himself.”

 “And everyone heard and couldn’t wait to spend time with me.” Dean batted his eyelashes at Castiel, taking a step closer to him.

 “I’m so sure.”

 “Eileen, this is my brother Dean,” Sam spoke out loud, fingerspelling Dean’s name slowly.

 “Dean,” Eileen said, offering her hand.

 He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “M’lady.”

 “Alright, bitches, let’s eat,” Charlie said with a wide, toothy grin.

 “Good idea,” Cas said, looking a little green.

 They settled into their seats and the waitress came around getting their drink orders, Sam ordering an iced tea, and everyone else ordering beer and wine. His cheeks grew pinker by the second, and Dean smirked at his brother. Eileen tapped Sam’s arm and signed, okay? He nodded, offering her a smile, and she laughed in response.

 Dean leaned over next to him where Castiel was sitting. “So, Detective. Want me to order for you?”

 “No.” He sat up a little higher in his chair and glared at Dean. “I can order for myself.”

 “Yeah, Dean, he isn’t some bombshell,” Charlie whispered from Dean’s other side. How he got stuck between them was beyond him. He’d been so focused on sitting next to that fucking tweed blazer that he didn’t notice Charlie on his left until he was already settled. “He can order for himself.”

 Dean smirked, realizing that Charlie hadn’t been let in on their burger date. “Yeah, but my taste is better. Right, Cas?” Castiel looked uncomfortable, and the fact that Dean was getting under his skin was lighting him on fire. He wanted to press the detective’s buttons until he burst. 

 Sam’s eyes widened at the two of them. “Am I missing something?”

 “No,” Cas said quickly, shooting Dean a look. “Nothing to miss.”

 “Uh huh.” Dean shrugged, moving his attention back to his menu.

 They all got to talking about work. Eileen explained to them some different deaf jokes, and Sam laughed along with her, his eyes bright and shiny. Dean smiled to himself; it was nice to see his little brother wrapped up in something that wasn’t murder. Someone alive.

 “So, Dean,” Charlie said, leaning into him. “You’re a writer?”

 “I am. A journalist.” He smiled widely, proud to finally be talking about something that he could really participate in.

 “But he used to write all kinds of crazy stories growing up,” Sam said, taking a bite of his salad. “He wrote all kinds of short stories about monsters.”

 “Creepy.” Charlie grinned. “I love a good horror story.”

 “So do I.” Dean met her smile. He could almost see it then, Cas’ tweed jacket slung over the back of his couch, he and Charlie teasing the detective until his cheeks pinked up. 

 “So, what brought you to  journalism instead of creative writing?” Castiel asked, mindlessly poking his dinner salad with his fork.

 “I wanted a job,” Dean laughed.

 “How’s that working for you?” Sam asked with a shit-eating grin.

 Dean flipped him off.

 “Are you working on anything right now?” Eileen asked, watching his lips for a response.

 He glanced at Castiel with a smirk. “Yeah, I’m workin’ on somethin’.”

 Heat crawled up Castiel’s neck at the double meaning of his words, and Dean noticed that he adjusted his collar to try to cover his growing embarrassment. “Got a little somethin’,” Dean murmured, taking his napkin, patting some non-existent dressing off Cas’ lip. “Got it,” he whispered devilishly. Another button was pressed, and Dean intended to find them all and learn what they each did. 

 Charlie snorted, since she apparently wasn’t as blind as the rest of the group, and Castiel shot her a look in response. 

 “Anything interesting?”

 “Still decidin’,” Dean said with a wicked grin.

 “I’m going to use the facilities,” Castiel announced, clearing his throat as he stood up. He moved his napkin from his lap and back onto the table. Nodding to the group, he quickly walked to the back of the restaurant. 

 “I’m gonna go, too. Be right back.” Dean said not a moment later, winking at Charlie, glad that Sam was wrapped up in a sign language conversation with Eileen. He was still pretty bad at signing, so it took all of his attention. 

 Dean followed the signs to the bathroom, but before he pushed in, he noticed the back door propped open. His palm moved from the bathroom door and walked out into the night air. 

 Castiel was pressed against the stone wall, sucking in smoke from his cigarette. 

 “Stressed out, Detective?” Dean asked, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching the detective suck the smoke into his mouth and let it back out. He wondered if Castiel knew how erotic he looked when he smoked, with his lips curled around the cigarette, and the way his eyes rolled back in his head, his shoulders relaxing with the breath. 

 “To put it mildly,” Cas said coolly, the nicotine seeming to do its job to calm him down. “What’re you doing out here, Dean?”

 “Checkin’ on you.” He put his hands in his pockets. Now that they were alone there was a new pit growing inside of Dean’s stomach. “Am I... am I making you uncomfortable?” 

 Castiel coughed in response, as if the smoke went down the wrong tube in his throat. “Are you... Why would you be?”

 “Because I’m trying to flirt with you,” Dean said with an estaterbated groan, as if it was obvious. “And damn it, my gaydar is usually shit. So if you’re not into it then you’ve gotta...” 

 “I am gay,” Castiel said quickly, his eyes immediately widening, as if he couldn’t believe the words came out of his mouth. 

 Dean smiled widely, letting out a sigh of relief. He moved away from the wall, taking a step closer to the detective. “So does that mean you are into it, Cas? Because if not, this is a real weird way to turn me down.” 

 Castiel took one more puff of his cigarette before stomping it out on the damp sidewalk. He turned to Dean. “I’m not...” He paused, licking his bottom lip as if he was choosing his words carefully. “Opposed.” 

 Deans grin grew even wider, his arms falling from their crossed position back to his sides. “Color me surprised, Novak. You like my antics after all.” 

 “I wouldn’t say that.”

 He took a step closer to the detective, almost closing the space between them. “Then what would you say? Is it my bad boy aesthetic? I’ll have you know, I still haven’t paid those parking tickets.” Dean pressed his palm above Castiel’s head on the brick wall. He could feel Cas’ breath on his lips as he looked down at the detective, not trying to conceal his smile. 

 “You’re a regular degenerate.” Castiel smirked up at him a bit, quirking his eyebrow. “I may have to bring you in for that.” 

 Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he let out an airy, breathless laugh. “You’ll have to catch me first, Detective,” Dean murmured before taking Castiel’s cheek in his free hand, closing the space between them completely, pressing his lips to Cas’  in a hard, urgent kiss.

Read Part Three

Masterlist

Art by @cryptomoon

#Something More Than What I Had #Destiel #casdeanflipfest2019 #otp #Supernatural #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au #Detective!AU #Serial Killer!AU #Detective!Castiel #Detective!Sam Winchester #Detective!sam #journalist!Dean #writer!Dean #Dean Winchester #Dean #Sam Winchester #Sam #Dean x Cas #Castiel Novak #Charlie Bradbury #Eileen Leahy #Benny Lafitte #Inias #Bobby Singer #Captain!Bobby #Crowley #Abbadon #Amara

[crazyfreckledginger]

The Girl’s Pack ~ Chapter 30: A Plan Of Attack

[Princess][Archer][Wolf][Wally][Jason and Roy][Dick]

Her breathing was ragged as she morphed back into her human form and leaned against a tree.

Desperately attempting to control her breathing and make less noise as her lungs burned, she sat down on the ground. The Mount could be seen from where she was sitting.

What am I doing? She thought. The girl came back on instinct and didn’t even took the time to think, she was supposed to go back to her kingdom to be coronated and here she was, going back to the people -- most of which she called friends and somehow thinking she could save the whole team -- who had been unsuccessful to take down three villains.

After everything, (Y/N) definitely had to try, because she has the same advantage the villains had when they attacked the place: the element of surprise.

****

“You? Really? You had to keep an eye on one weak little girl and none of you know where she is?” Deathstroke roared in mock laughter.

“Even you, Batman, that’s disappointing,” Lex sighed, “this means you are all useless to us now,”

“Having Lilith as an asset would have been useful if those stupid muts didn’t kill her,” Slade sighed, “how inconvienent,”

The girl heard the conversation as she crawled through the air vents in her kitten form, who knew this form would become useful. She was light enough to not make a single sound but still have the benefits of her tweaked senses.

Seeing everyone in cages or restrained to stop their power made her feel an incredible weight of guilt, this was her fault.

Her kitten eyes scanned around the big, common room for anything that might be helpful to do anything.

Suddenly, a great idea popped in her mind as her feet rushed down the way she came through in the air vent towards the security room. Shifting into her jaguar form, she blended into the darkness as she jumped down in front of the door and sniffed it.

An unfamiliar smell, probably one of the criminal’s men. Scratching the door, she growled softly once she heard that she had caught the man's attention and backed away from the door slightly, positioning herself to pounce on the man.

Her heart raced in her chest as she heard the footsteps increase and the door opening. Without a moment of hesitation, as soon as she perceived his confused face, she jumped on him, headbutting the man in the chin and scratching his chest as he fell on the ground, swiftly, she turned back into her human self and slammed the nearest object into his face, knocking him out cold.

The girl released a shaky breath as she stood back up cautiously, pulling the man against the chair and slowly closed the door after peaking through it to make sure no one was coming.

After tying up the man and placing him against the wall with tape on his mouth, she sat down on the chair and examined the screens.

In the room, she was just in, were still the same people. She perceived another room with the rest of the team. Her fingers tapped nervously against the desk as her teeth chewed on her lip, trying to come up with a plan.

The girl suddenly remembered her training, what Black Canary had told her over and over again when they were sparring.

To “make sure to use your power to her advantage,”

****

“We told you already that we don’t know where she is, why are you being a complete asshole about it!” Red Hood cursed, holding his rib that had been stabbed with his cuffed wrists.

His best friend gave him a side glare to get him to shut him up, earning a grunt. The red helmet antihero sighed softly, leaning his head back against the wall and peeling his attention away from the men that were laying out a plan out of ear reach.

Black Canary, Shazam, Batman and Red Tornado were all out, having been knocked out cold in the most appropriate way possible. The less official or younger team members were barely controlling their breathing, still in an intense battle with the poisonous gas that was still in their system.

Jason was the only one that was fully conscious but very wounded, he had his helmet with air filters to thank for that.

A very sensitive whirring sound was somehow picked up from his helmet, he tilted his head upwards, watching the camera.

His eyebrows knitted together as he saw the camera’s lens move up, down and sideways until it zoomed in on him and out again.

So many ideas were rushing through his brain.

“(Y/N)?” he mouthed behind his helmet, more to himself than anything else. It must have been his imagination -- or the blood loss, how could she have come back to fast? How could she have known?

He shook his head, definitely the bloodloss.

Suddenly a loud alarm resonated, thumping loudly in everyone’s <eardrums.

Everyone flinched, the ones who hadn’t had restricted movement held their ears and were brought to their knees.

As quickly as it appeared, the whole system shut down and it was pure blackness, only the exit signs were lit up dimly.

This wasn’t really my imagination huh? Jason thought, wincing as he applied more pressure on his wound.

“What’s the meaning of this! Put the systems back on!” Slade roared, most likely shooting his arm in every direction. The sound of numerous footsteps echoed in the room as a result of his outburst.

****

Her paws were silent against the floor, watching from the shadows as disoriented men rushed through the dark corridors in search of the power room.

She kept herself hidden, making sure she could still get a peek without being noticed.

The girl hoped what she had set up wouldn’t kill them, just paralyse them for enough time.

Five men stormed into the big room, immediately searching for the source of the problem. Pouncing swiftly, she closed the door and morphed into her human form, keeping it shut and flipping the light switch on.

(Y/N) gritted her teeth as she heard numerous groans and moans, then nothing.

Turning the light off, she peeled the door open and scanned around the bodies that were laying on the water soaked floor. Stepping inside, she cautiously reached over to pull the open cable off the floor and tuck it away back where it came from.

Quickly, she bounded their limbs and put tape on their mouths before shutting the door and locking it using the key. She never took the key out of the keyhole, however.

Her hands held the top of the door, and she swung her foot directly towards the end of the small piece of metal sticking out, breaking the key off. The part that was still in the keyhole was still inside, unable to be taken off as the other part few to the floor. The girl then slipped the broken key under the door and pulled the ‘security’ sign off and also slid it under the door.

Turning into a smaller feline, her feet raced into the hallway, using her night vision to see clearly. There were two men around the corner, from what she could hear. She stopped before they could even suspect there was someone there.

The girl meticulously took out every henchmen around the Mount in a quick twenty minutes.

Now, was the moment she dreaded the most. Back in her black jaguar form, she darted towards the common area.

Suddenly, the defining sound of static reached her ears and she roared painfully. Her whines turned into moans as she was forced to turn back into her human form.

“We got you know you little rat.”  

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[jungnoir]

i'm so glad your requests are open!!! could i please request “Friends can kiss each other a little from time to time, right?” for nct's mark?

a fairy king and an elven warrior walk into a nerd convention;

mark lee | “Friends can kiss each other a little from time to time, right?” cosplay!au. | 4.4k words. | fluff, humor, v awkward mark lee and v awkward u as well.

a/n: because I received this prompt a few times, I’m doing my best to change each one up somehow so here’s a lil cosplaying with markiepooh

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Donghyuck’s words comes through the phone after a cacophony of violent coughing and groaning, voice drenched in regret despite the strain to speak clearly at all, “I don’t think I can stand around a crowded con for hours in plastic armor today. I can barely walk to the bathroom without getting dizzy… I have to bow out.”

“W-What?” You really hate how distinctly sad your voice sounds even as you muster all your might to stay calm. You were supposed to march into that convention center today in five pounds of armor that you’d meticulously spray-painted and tweaked to look just like your character’s, your face caked in makeup to create that flawless elven look that only existed in the world of warrior elves and demon fey, and your suffocating wig trimmed and styled to defy gravity itself with Donghyuck at your side. You and Donghyuck were famous for cosplaying as the married brave warrior elf Greer and dark fairy king Egi (respectively) at many conventions across the country, spending months on top of months perfecting your costumes and winning contests for your spot on depictions of the characters, but now you were a Greer without an Egi, and you didn’t know if you could do this alone. “Donghyuck, we’re a team. We always cosplay together.”

You hear Donghyuck sigh and feel instantly terrible for making him feel bad when he’s already suffering so much. The stomach bug that came like a thief in the night took your poor best friend out before the morning of the con came, and you were left sitting dumbfounded on the edge of your bed, half a face of concealer and heavy, heavy contour having to take a backseat to the bad news. You had been in such a good mood today, too.

You’re about to reassure him that it’s alright, that you’ll clean up and stop by his place to check up on him later and, if he’s up for it, maybe even bring your laptop so the two of you can binge watch the new anime you’d both started together when Donghyuck cuts in suddenly, “I figured you’d say that, so I got to thinking… how would you feel if, say, someone else took my place?”

“Someone? Take your place? You sure whatever you caught isn’t invading your brain right about now?” Your nervous joke falls on deaf ears as Donghyuck’s wheels begin to turn.

“I’m serious. Have someone take my place as Egi at the con. Granted, you won’t find anyone with nearly as much charisma and personality as me but… it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” “But who? People will know it isn’t you!” You honestly don’t mean to sound so indignant. Hell, you grimace right after complaining, but if there’s one thing you can’t warm up to, it’s the idea of a stranger taking Donghyuck’s place today.

You and Donghyuck had been doing this for years together, the two of you inseparable. Granted, there were times you did cosplay as other characters, but your interpretations of Greer and Egi were always top notch. Many a time would you find yourselves being praised on other cosplayers’ instagrams, people gushing about how realistically you both portray the characters compared to any other cosplayers they’d ever seen. You were a package duo always; anything that could disrupt the dynamic you both had was subject to distaste… until you were both two hours away from having to cancel a con you’d been promising your online following you’d be at for weeks. “I know people will know it isn’t me, but that’s not the point. It’s the characters that are the point. People are gonna be more focused on the costume than the person underneath anyway.” 

“No, no… no. Do you remember all the different movie versions of Batman, Hyuck? Who plays the character matters.” Snorting, Donghyuck shifts the phone around while you whine. “This isn’t canon, edgelord. And it’s only for a few hours!” 

The reminder of how long you’ll really be out there, half-heartedly cosplaying and meeting your followers only to have to inform them that no, that isn’t Donghyuck with you and yes, yes you are on the verge of an emotional breakdown because it feels all kinds of off looms over your head like a metaphorical storm cloud.

Maybe you were being dramatic?

…nah, not likely.

You’re so deep in your pity party that you just faintly pick up tapping on the other end of the phone, your attention quickly grabbed, “What’re you doing, Hyuck? What’s that sound?”

“I’m sending help your way, oh great warrior Greer. If you see a big dork in my outfit dawdling outside on your front porch in half an hour, don’t panic and let him in.” “But-” “(Y/N), you’ll be fine. And hey, he’s better than a total stranger.”

He? Donghyuck has already left the conversation by then, your next calls for clarification going straight to voicemail. Even your texts go read and ignored, the plotting little bastard. You had a plethora of cosplay friends but none of whom you could recall who were both not already cosplaying as someone else today and around Donghyuck’s size to wear his costume. For all you know, he could be sending someone like Jaemin or Jisung to your rescue.

Yours and Donghyuck’s cosplay life was no secret to your small group of high school friends, though it was fairly clear none of them were quite interested in it either. No one would bat an eyelash if you and Donghyuck had to cancel plans to go to the movies on the weekend because a con was coming up and the two of you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Aside from what you’d both upload on your instagrams, your friends didn’t delve too much into the world you two were enveloped in. In fact, the only one of them that actually did show interest was Mark.

Mark was the eldest of all your friends, sometimes out of place when he tried to act like it. Deep down he was just like all of you, just as confused about life as the rest of you. You would never go as far as to say he was a mature friend, far from it even, but he did always have such a calming aura about him that you didn’t often find in the rest of your group. 

He was simple, sometimes incredibly naive, and easy to have fun with. He was also Donghyuck’s punching bag from time to time, but you’d seen the eldest snap back once in a while too. Where the others might tease you and Donghyuck about your cosplaying and be done with it, Mark would be attentive. He wouldn’t know the terms or the lingo but he’d always perk up when you’d mention how your outfit for (insert character he’s never heard of) was coming along, would even dare to ask you what it looks like so far. When you’d show him side by side pictures of the original and your creation, he’d always praise you on how identical they looked. Mark liked to see that spark in your eyes when you felt listened to by someone besides Donghyuck for once.

And maybe you liked Mark a bit. Maybe more than a bit.

Your crush was small, easy to hide and even easier to deny if the troublemakers of your group ever deigned to point out your lingering stares and unconscious smiles when Mark was in the midst of a story no one else was listening to. If it was that imperceptible, then you were confident Mark was none the wiser, and that’s all that mattered. God forbid you liked someone like Jaemin, what with his sixth sense being reading you like an open book. 

You spend the next half hour in a fit of anxiety, forcing yourself to finish your makeup and getting dressed. Every moment you’re doing something repetitive, you find your thoughts drifting to who Donghyuck might have sent to go to the con with you. With each possible choice, your heart thumps louder in your chest. Who could he have possibly picked, and moreover, who would have even bothered to say yes to him?

You’re just about finished with setting on your wig when the doorbell rings, and you’re quick on your feet to go get it. Just as you get to the front door, you pause. You haven’t got the faintest idea what might be waiting for you on the other side of that door, of what might be lurking and deciding your fate for the rest of the day. You don’t know what you’re in for, and the only thing to do now is get it over with.

Tugging the door open tentatively, you’re met with the back of a head of shaggy chestnut hair haphazardly tucked into a bleach-blond braided wig. It’s clear that whoever Donghyuck had sent your way couldn’t have been able to get ready in half an hour on such short notice. They’re dressed in the armor that Donghyuck usually wears, and you can see the tiny details that had since been added to complete the look more. You’re unsure why they’re faced away from you, that is, until you hear a muttering voice saying “you can do this, you can do this” on repeat. 

Your earlier anxiety is replaced with curiosity. You clear your throat to catch their attention and- oh.

With the makeup Donghyuck applied (heavy eyeliner, glimmering cheekbones doused in golden highlight, dramatic mascara), you almost don’t recognize Mark as Mark until his familiar voice reaches you, “H-Hyuck said you’d help with the wig…?”

“This place is so awesome- another Deadpool! That’s the third one we’ve seen since we got here!” You feel momentarily glad that a train of Spidermans (Spidermen?) haven’t come through yet because you’re fairly certain Mark would lose his absolute mind if they did. In fact, just as you think you’re in the clear, a cluster of them enter from one side of the con and you begin tugging Mark in the other direction before he can notice. 

Honestly, showing Mark his first con is a bit like showing a baby their first “magic trick”; he’s all wide eyes and squealing, and while it’s freaking cute (I mean, how could anyone be that adorable while gushing over how realistic the fake blood looks on someone’s samurai sword?), you’re unfortunately in a perpetual state of worry, a feeling you haven’t felt since your first few conventions with Donghyuck. You worry that people will notice you, will want to take pictures of you, and you worry that those who recognize you will then recognize that the boy beside you is definitely not Donghyuck and be upset.

Mark had made it very clear on the ride to the con that he was more than happy to accompany you and take Donghyuck’s place, but he also placed great emphasis on the fact that he had absolutely no idea who he was dressed up as and would be more of a dead weight at your side than part of a complete pair. He’d stressed time and time again that he’d be willing to get on his bike and head home if you decided to go in alone, but by then you were receiving threatening texts from Donghyuck that promised more than just a royal smackdown if Mark turned up at his door before the day was over. 

Why Donghyuck was so insistent on you attending the con with Mark was beyond you, but you very well couldn’t turn tail and run now. 

The firecracker made an apologetic post before you arrived detailing the reasons he wouldn’t be attending, encouraging others to still seek you and your new “friend” out for pictures. He even asked to be tagged in them. It was almost like he was… no, that couldn’t be right, could it?

Whatever diabolical plan the kid had up his sleeve, you had other things to worry about. 

“I know some of these characters,” Mark points out as you both stroll through the large room, completely tuned out to the shouted compliments he was receiving on his outfit, “maybe I should come to these things more often… but I don’t really have the talent to dress up like you and Hyuck.”

You just finish greeting a few people who recognize you when he says this. Glancing up at the boy, he doesn’t pay any mind with his arm hooked around your own, still surveying the room for things he’s familiar with.

“You don’t have to dress up to go to cons, Mark! They’re open to everyone.” You even point out a few people in jeans and tees, all having a fun enough time just being around people who like the same things they do, “It’s about having fun. Some people have fun in costumes, others not so much.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Mark trails off a little, making eye contact with you for a moment. You read him as being nervous, those gentle eyes not daring to look your way. You wonder if you’ve said something wrong. “…I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind going to something like this with you… and Hyuck too, of course… but I’d feel so out of place. You know? You guys go all out, like really all out.”

You aren’t able to ask him to elaborate on his thoughts because a pair of girls rush up to you immediately upon spotting you, calling your name with a mix of excitement and nerves. You shoot Mark an apologetic look for leaving him hanging and quickly greet the girls, the both of them asking if it’s alright to take photos. You grant them the permission, doing your character’s signature poses and even doing some silly selfies with the girls just for fun. Your nervousness of not having Donghyuck there is starting to melt away a bit, but leaving Mark all alone nudges at the back of your mind while you have all the fun. 

You’re sending the girls off finally when you turn to find Mark standing like a deer in headlights, more than a few people standing around him and applauding his outfit. Some mention how he looks so much like Egi, others saying how he plays the stoic king perfectly. You’re glad they can’t tell because Mark is having a brain fart over what to say or do without you present and it’s really kinda cute.

You sidle up to the boy and he immediately slackens his tense shoulders when you start to speak, “Our friend made the outfit!”

One guy in leather pants and and slicked back hair is really impressed, shifting to the side while a greatsword hangs off his shoulder lazily, “That’s so cool. Can we get a pic of you two?”

Your knee jerk reaction is to say yes; you’re always proud to take photos in your costumes. After all, you put so much work into them. However, you quickly remember that this isn’t just you and Donghyuck right now, con veterans who get their pictures taken at every con like usual. Mark is new to this and has already voiced his uncertainty with “playing” the role of Egi.

Readying yourself to turn them down, you’re surprised when Mark suddenly chirps in instead with a “Sure!”

There’s a shaky smile on his face, the nerves very clear in his eyes but he does his damn best to hide it when you give him a concerned look. You ask him with your eyes if it’s really okay, and his answer is an almost too-tight grip on your waist with one hand while the other rises to make a peace sign. You and the others know that his character would never make such a gesture, but the entire group bursts into giggles at it anyway. They snap pics of you in a few more silly than serious poses and are on their way, thanking you for your time and disappearing to find the next cosplayer to talk to. 

Mark doesn’t remember to release your side, his smile bordering on beaming, “That was actually really fun!”

How the mousy boy has suddenly found all the confidence in the world isn’t totally beyond you. You remember your first times cosplaying in public and being approached by so many kind people boosting your self-esteem that it made your nerves turn to mush and your excitement skyrocket. Even though Mark is red from his neck to his ears, he’s also grinning like an absolute fool. You can’t help but return the same enthusiasm, “Wanna walk around some more?”

He nods vigorously, tugging you along and bursting with questions about Egi all of a sudden (”How long has he been king? He’s in love with Greer, right? How did they fall in love?”). In between canon and non-canon explanations for it all, you get stopped by all kinds of people. You’re starting to lose count of the amount of pictures you’ve had taken, and Mark is so much more relaxed than when he first came in. You almost forget you’re not with Donghyuck… keyword: almost.

“Do you mind reenacting the kiss from season 3, episode 12? I always thought the kisses you and Donghyuck shared were so cute, but I haven’t seen you do this one yet!”

You’re aware that Mark is looking at you, but you’re frozen still. You had an inkling that you’d forgotten to tell him something important while showing Mark the pictures of you and Donghyuck cosplaying as Greer and Egi. Of course, the one thing you’d forget in your haste to get Mark all caught up on what he’d have to do was the one thing that actually mattered.

Every kiss you shared with Donghyuck was always innocent in nature and intention; never had you indulged in the fact that you and Donghyuck had lip-locked on more than one occasion all for the sake of the cosplay and staying in character. Silly kisses and reenactments for fans and photoshoots was all that it was, and at the end of the day, it meant nothing. Tons of cosplayers did the same all the time! 

But, knowing that the others still followed your cosplay accounts to be the good friends that they were, neither you nor Donghyuck would ever post those kinds of pictures on your accounts. Ever. Which is why, when showing Mark your collection of photoshoots and the like, you had completely forgotten that some fans would ask for a quick kiss or two. 

The fan’s smile seems to fall the longer it takes you to answer and she hastens to fix the atmosphere, “I-I’m sorry! I realized you’re with someone else this time but I still wanted to ask… I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

Desperately, you want to tell her you’re not offended at all. That it’s not her fault. That if you had remembered this tiny detail about your cosplaying (in your defense, it was always such a nonchalant part of the entire cosplay that you didn’t find the need in making a big deal about it anyway) and warned Mark about it or even let Mark go back home in favor of attending by yourself, you wouldn’t be stuck here gaping at her like a blowfish at the very thought of kissing Mark Lee, your Mark Lee, your crush-who-doesn’t-know-he’s-a-crush-and-neither-does-anyone-else-but-goddamn-Donghyuck crush. Well, at least the thought of doing so in a situation where the opportunity is actually there and not just a daydream of yours again.

The words refuse to leave your lips and now it’s just getting awkward. Are you sweating? You’re pretty sure you’re going to perspire right through the pound of makeup it took to give yourself Greer’s battle scars and shining skin. 

“…episode 12, you said?” You hear Mark ask. You make out the fan showing him her phone with a picture of said kiss. You probably also remember watching that episode and fawning over it with Donghyuck over text when it first aired but now the entire thing is lost on you.

Next thing you know, Mark is carefully turning you around by a hold on your hips and you’re completely pliant as he does. A few people are standing around now, looking on, and is he…?

“Is this okay?” Mark asks, setting one hand on the back of your neck while his free arm hooks you around the middle loosely. He’s in position, but he isn’t putting in the work until you answer.

It’s okay, you find yourself thinking instead of actually saying, this is so okay. I also might have a stroke if you really put your mouth on mine so I hope that’s okay too. 

In that moment, you’re absolutely certain that this was on Donghyuck’s mind since this morning. You know that he was prepared for it, picking Mark for more than just being available. No, you know he picked Mark because he knows you like him, and he knows you wouldn’t tell him that you and Donghyuck kiss in costume sometimes for people because you’d forget under the pressure of being alone with Mark like that and you wouldn’t have the heart to send him home when he was so excited to go with you, would you?

Damn you, Lee Donghyuck. Damn you for helping fulfill even the nerdiest of my fantasies and damn you Mark Lee for playing along without a worry in the world (and for looking so… kissable).

You give him the go ahead, a small nod and a fluttering of eyelashes. The arm around your middle tightens and wakes you from your dazed state just in time to feel the absolute wave that washes over you when Mark Lee kisses you. You’ve forgotten how to breathe, you think. Maybe it’s because Mark is taking all of the air when his lips meet yours and he kisses you like he was the one who’d rewatched that stupid kissing scene over and over. You aren’t deaf to the hoots and hollers of the crowd; no, you never kissed Donghyuck like this and anyone who’s ever seen you cosplay with him would know that well. But even if you and Mark are total strangers to this crowd, everyone who stopped to watch is cheering you on like you’d just slain the dragon and won the heart of the handsome fairy king like all those heroes in the cheesy fantasies.

Mark pulls back, still holding you to his armored chest, but it’s only then you realize that the things are super huge and really in the way when he’s not kissing you anymore. Despite his feigned-cool expression, he’s totally shy and redder than ever. He turns to the fan who is covering her mouth in surprise, “Was… that okay?”

“More than okay…” She breathes, and then sends a flurry of thank you’s your way and promises to tag you in the photos later. Somewhere in the midst of your after-kiss shock, Mark had given her his handle and she’d been on her way. The crowd of people watching began to disperse, though a few hung around to ask for pictures as well, politely waiting for the stars in your eyes to disappear. You really couldn’t focus on much when your lips still tingled the way they did. 

Mark starts to get concerned when you continue to stare at him like he’s grown two heads, “Hey, are you alright? I’m sorry for how forward that kiss was but… I uh…” The poor boy begins to forget how to speak halfway through, glimmers of the Mark you know and love coming through, “Well, you know. Sorry.”

He looks away from you, absolutely shameful. “Why?”

He looks up again, lips parted, “Oh… because I kissed you like that.”

“But I wanted you to,” you say softly, hands furiously wringing each other out behind your back, “and… I wouldn’t have given you the go ahead if I didn’t.”

This was starting to sound a lot like a confession. 

Mark studies you as you study him, the world around you practically nonexistent otherwise. Licking his lips, your eyes immediately follow the movement and you start to really miss them on yours. “I see.” He answers simply, at a loss. “Well, did you… like it?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look in his eyes for this part. Your mouth is moving on its own accord even as every cell in your body feels like it’s on fire. “Hyuck doesn’t quite kiss like that.”

Mark’s eyes widen at the sudden mention of Donghyuck, “Oh, um, that’s- that’s good. I mean not good! Interesting, I meant interesting. God, um… I’m still trying to figure out how to deal with the fact that I just… did that to you. You’re my friend! Though, friends can kiss each other from time to time, right? I mean, I like you too so there’s that but- I- wait. Uh. Sorry.”

It’s comforting to know that you’re not the most awkward person right now at least, but you know that if you aren’t careful, you might confess to more than just liking him back, “Would you… would you like it if we kept… doing that… between us? Because I wouldn’t mind that. At all.”

“What about your cosplay with Hyuck? That girl said it’s your thing… I don’t want to get in the way of that.” Mark, bless his soul, is more worried about your hobby than the fact that you want to kiss him and him only. You couldn’t fall more for this boy if you tried. 

You twist back and forth in lieu of having something to do with your body that isn’t falling to the floor in a fit of nervous giggles and disbelief. If people got a photo of that, you’re certain you would be no more, “If I’m being honest, I’d really rather kiss you more than Donghyuck anyday.” “Oh? That’s good. That’s… that’s… good. Yeah, I’d rather you kiss me too.”

(1) Unread Message(s)

received: 7:42 p.m., april 14th, 2018

hyuckieee 🙈: I’m being tagged in so many photos of you and lee kissing, it’s kinda making me jealous

sent: 7:45 p.m., april 14th, 2018

you: what can i say? everyone knows who the superior lee is here

received: 7:45 p.m., april 14th, 2018

hyuckieee 🙈: TAKE IT BACK

#mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee drabble #mark lee au #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader #mark lee #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct au #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream au #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #nct dream #majwrites #sbmusings

[fight-me-boi]

This Could Be The Start of Something Greater.

~Short character drabbles about the twenty six members of the team. Takes place at different times through out he yj!universe. For @runningwitches . Happy Holidays. There’s a little under 4700 words tucked under the read more. I’m sorry this is so late I restarted this several times and still wasn’t satisfied, and then I got sick. Anyway. Again, I’m sorry it’s late.~

B01-Nightwing

Dick loved the circus, he was taught by his mom and his aunt with his friends. John kept calling him squirt. His dad kept saying John’s attitude would keep him that height forever. The center pole was the second best place to be in the world, following the air. He was Robin. He was destined to fly.

And nothing was better than hearing the crowd’s oh’s and ah’s of the crowd as he flipped through the air and performed. Nothing beat that feeling, he was loved by his family and by the crowd. He wouldn’t give anything to change it, they weren’t rich in possession but they were rich where it mattered.

“Oh, do be careful, Robin.” Mary said loud enough for her voice to carry through the tent, she was watching her son on the trapeze with her brother in law. Dick waved down at her as John put an arm around her comfortingly.

“Come on Mary, Rich wouldn’t drop him.” John’s easy grin dropped for a second,”At least, I don’t think.”

Mary glared at him,”Don’t even joke about that Giovanni. He is little. I know you and your brother have some twisted sense of humor but if he drops our son I drop him. Understand?”

John looked nervous but nodded enthusiastically,”Yes, ma’am.”

Jack walked up beside his adopted son,”Did your wife just threaten to knock your brother out?”

“Yep,” John shot Jack a mischievous grin,” What a woman.”

“With any luck John, Dick won’t inherit Mary’s temper, or he’ll at least have your smile to hide it behind.”

Dick shot down the ladder into his dad’s arms,”Didya see? Was I good?”

John lifted his son up in front of him,”Amazing, spectacular. You might be the best out of us one day, Dick.”

Dick laughed and hugged his dad.

B02-Aqualad

Kaldur knew he was one of the best fighters in his rank, if not the best. Even his magic was weapons based. His water bearers could become sabers, a mace a sledge hammer. He was proud of the fact that he was elected leader of the team, Robin would have become a good leader but he was too young, not used to working in a group compared to working with Batman.

He was heartbroken when Tula died, and when Garth went back to Atlantis. Nightwing had barely finished his undercover mission, had barely started grieving for his brother. But Nightwing was ready to be the leader, Kaldur was going to step away but finding out that his father was Black Manta meant that he needed not just time to think but time didn’t grant him that. He decided to go undercover instead giving himself a polite amount of distance from the team but able to watch over them and see them work well under Nightwing, help the “chess pieces” move to their proper location.

B03-Kid Flash

He officially had the coolest uncle ever. Not only did he fight crime as a CSI, he was the Flash. How many people could say that. He had to be his uncle’s partner. Batman had Robin, and Green Arrow had Speedy the Flash needed a sidekick, and what better than his nephew?

What’s the worst that could happen, he was a chemistry genius, and had access to all the chemicals and his uncles meticulous notes. He could recreate the experiment and then Uncle Barry would have to take him on, he’d have super powers too.

B04-Superboy

Connor loved the farm. He could lay in the sun for hours. He couldn’t fly, but it wasn’t that great and Clark wouldn’t admit it but Connor was capable of beating him. He didn’t want to be Superman anymore, and he couldn’t be a normal guy, constantly looking 16. He only looked like Clark from a distance as well. He couldn’t be Superman.

Connor liked not having to worry about missions of helping his parents around the farm,”Pa? Anything else you’d like me to do before I head back to Happy Harbor?”

“No, just enjoy yourself and give Megan a kiss from me and your ma.”

Connor laughed,”Will do. She’ll want to stop by to cook for you guys and get some more recipes from Ma.”

“She’s always welcomed.”

B05-Miss Martian

She didn’t understand what Connor’s issue was, they were bad guys. They had made their decision to be bad and they needed the information for the mission. It didn’t matter.

Connor wasn’t going to tell she had faith in him, if they had all the information Troia would be here, Jason and Tula would be alive and Garth and Kaldur wouldn’t have left the team.

She didn’t like what she was doing but she was doing it for the betterment of the world, doing the hard work to make the defensive look in Nightwing’s eyes to disappear. She’d be willing to lose some sleep to make sure they all lived to see another day. She’d be willing to compromise her ideals to help the team, it was worth it for them.

B06-Red Arrow

Roy liked the kid, he was hilarious. The jokes were stupid but the timing was impeccable. Gotham sucked ass and he was definantly going to kill Oliver for leaving him here even if it was for a day, why did Gotham’s arsonist have to fly. Robin was sitting next to him, surrounded by smoldering debris, giggling,”Cash is going to lose his mind.”

“Why?” Roy said pulling Robin to his feet.

The police car turned the corner and a man emerged from the cop car,”Why does our arsonist have to fly?“

“Because Gotham hates you, Cash.”

“Robin, any idea where he or Batman went?”

“No, Lynns bolted and Bats went after him. Our plan kinda went up in flames.” Roy snorted as Robin was staring at Cash with a shit eating grin, and Cash looked like he’d rather be dealing with Batman himself instead of the sidekicks.

B07-Artemis

Artemis belonged on the team, she didn’t care what Roy said. He was barely even there most of the time. He did not get to say what she was capable of or what her place on the team actually was. She spent her whole life fighting, fighting Jade, her father, the bad guys before she joined the team and the new bad guys with the team and Green Arrow. She belonged on this team she earned her damn spot, she wasn’t going to let some pompous brat who wore tights and a Robin Hood hat tell her that she didn’t belong. She got enough  of that crap at school without  him weighing in.

Her Dad couldn’t be more wrong the rest  of the team liked her, who cared what Wally thought she sure as hell didn’t. He was  just mad that she apparently scared off Red Arrow but if his masculinity was so fragile that he couldn’t handle a girl taking the place of the archer on the team, he wouldn’t be able to handle being a hero. She couldn’t understand what her sister saw in Roy he was a stubborn hardass, but then again Jade was most likely certifiable.

The team didn’t care who she was related to in the long term. Right?

B08-Zatanna

Zatanna missed her father, there was no other way of putting it. She wanted her dad back. There was that British Warlock that she met while traveling that said there might have been a way to get the Helmet of Fate. She didn’t give up on saving him when she found out what removing the helmet from her father would entail, she just accepted that maybe she couldn’t. Constantine was right most of the time but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

She didn’t know why Dick wanted to stay with the team even though they were all offered spots on the Justice League. But then again people rarely knew what ran through a Bat’s brain. She decided to join the league because she didn’t want to operate from the shadows forever, she wanted to be able to help more people then she could on the team. She’d always have a soft spot for the team and would be willing to help in whatever manner they needed. But a physical glamour charm was a strange request who wore a mask or sunglasses so much she almost forgot that he had blue eyes.

B09-Rocket

Amistad loved Lian, he was a little upset that he was no longer the baby, but he took to being Lian’s “big brother” quite well.

He was often seen trying to make Lian smile, or trying to be helpful around the Watchtower. He was only three years old and kept trying to help Batman fix the tech around the tower. The team adored the unofficial team mascots and protected them.

Hell their babysitter was basically a guarantee that Deathstroke wouldn’t mess with them unless he was hired to and even then Jericho has some stories about what happens if you messed with someone under Deathstroke’s protection.

B10-Tempest

He couldn’t be there anymore, he had to leave. Nightwing And Troia left after Robin died. He got to leave, he needed to go back to Atlantis on find himself again away from the team, away from the surface. Away from everyone, even King Orin and Queen Mera.

The woman he loved died, sacrificed herself to save the world. He got to be angry about that, because if he wasn’t where would he be? Like Nightwing who went disappeared for a year and then never got closer because he’d come back and Robin had been replaced? Troia who ran back to Themyscira after Jason died and wasn’t coming back? He was going to rejoin the team, he just needed a little time to himself and that wasn’t such a bad thing.

B11-Aquagirl

Tula understood why Kaldur loved the surface world and the people who dwelled on it, they were resilient and capable of so much on their own. Curious as well. The little Robin would stare when she, Garth and Kaldur would use their water magic, utterly fascinated with how it worked.

Tula never regretted joining the team, learning about the world, the culture, the different types of magic. She was the most talented in that aspect out of the three of them and studying surface world magic helped grow her abilities.

Queen Mera was often adamant that all stories of the gods had grains of truth within them and you had to be able to divine the truth from fiction, from hyperbole. This story about the alien Tiamat and the Babylonian demigod Marduk was interesting but it felt like something was missing, the fact that Marduk was introduced to the pantheon of gods posthumously promoted more research. She would ask John Constantine or the Lord of Order, Nabu, about it.

B12-Troia

Troia couldn’t handle being on the team after Robin died. Before then it felt like a game, in the back of her mind she knew it wasn’t but after seeing Jason’s body the gravity of what they did, what they were doing became much more real and all she wanted to do was go home to her mom. She loved Jason as if he was her own flesh and blood, she was his big sister and Dick was her best friend. She felt awful about leaving him but she couldn’t work above a memorial to her baby, she knew Dick understood when he left as well.

When she returned to Themyscira she practically threw herself back into her mother’s arms crying about him. Diana talked about humans being good and just. Where was the goodness in that? The justness? The man that killed him could barely be called a man. Jason was a child, he didn’t deserve that.

B13-Robin II

Jason hated the pitying and distrustful looks from the league and the team. They weren’t from Gotham, none of them have been the little guy, no one had know what he’d seen. Batman didn’t live in Gotham he spent the day in his mansion, Superman was a pompous goody two shoes from Kansas, he wouldn’t know how to Gotham. Crime Alley, Jason did. He stole the wheels of the Batmobile. He survived Crime Alley by himself for years before Bruce came along, he just had his wits, no armour, no training from around the world, no tech, just him. Jason did just fine without anyone. He didn’t need the team, or Nightwing, or Batman, you can’t count on anybody.

“Jason, you can do better. Dick does this easily. He doesn’t need to hit as hard.” Bruce said watching Jason hit the mannequin hard enough to snap bone.

“I’m not him, Okay!” Jason said snapped at Bruce,”I’ve done pretty well by myself, I sure as hell don’t need you to tell me what I am doing wrong.”

Jason stormed out of the Batcave and hunkered down against the wind, it was a long walk back to Gotham. He couldn’t be there anymore, the manor wasn’t his home.

B14-Lieutenant Marvel

It was odd being able to walk again. Especially knowing the cost, his grandfather comatose, and him a superhero. He got along well with Billy, the guy was his best friend but god was this stressful.

He didn’t want to worry about coming home alive every time he went on a mission maybe Billy thought he was indestructible and that was well and good but Freddy has had his back broken and been helpless and he doesn’t want to go back to that ever.

B15-Sergeant Marvel

She didn’t get why Billy liked this, it was dangerous and scary and she didn’t like the fact that there was the chance that one of them wouldn’t come home. She was 13 she couldn’t handle the responsibility of the team on her shoulders.

She hated abandoning the team but she wanted to come back when she was older, more responsible, more capable of losing someone. According to the young Robin, he was her age, how cool was that? Anyway she was getting side tracked, he said that losing people didn’t get easier. It didn’t matter if you were 7 and it was your mom or if you were an adult and lost your friend. Losing people sucked and Mary wasn’t prepared for that.

B16-Batgirl

Barbara knew that her dad didn’t necessarily approve of her being on the team, but after realizing grounding her wasn’t going to work, he decided that Batman did a nice job of protecting her since she started. He still thought that dating Dick was the dumbest thing she could do, but he wasn’t home half the time and she was an adult.

She was still mad at Dick for lying to her about Artemis, about Kaldur. What she didn’t expect was for Dick to drunk dial her secure line from his phone and explain everything. That he was going to go back undercover, fake his death let Azrael be Batman for a bit, help Kaldur, keep Artemis and Wally out of it. She was supposed to be his contact. Artemis decided to go after knocking some sense into him.

”She, she said it’d be less painful. We couldn’t lose another-” Dick already sounded near tears as his breath hitched but his voice now made Barbara’s heart clench,”Jason. We couldn’t lose a bat. She’d retired it wouldn’t be as painful for the new members, and Tim he’d be alone. No Robins.”

His voice sounded like cracking ice,”You should delete my number. I understand if you never want to see me again.”

Barbara didn’t delete his number but stopped by his apartment and unlocked the door, coughing reflexively from the dust that had gathered over the 6 months that he was Batman, Nightwing and team leader. She didn’t stay very long but rearranged his photos so the photo of Catherine was no longer next to the Graysons but next to Jason like she was looking at him, the photo of her and her dad was switched with the photo of a blonde boy with a mass of curly hair and an Asian girl with silver hair with their arms around Dick smiling.

B17-Bumblebee

One of her best friends was superhero. That was so cool. And she got offered an internship under Dr. Raymond Palmer! The Atom! She would get to be a superhero and study under one of the best minds in molecular physics. She was so excited. She couldn’t wait. But for a superhero uniform, like that Nightwing guy said, go with your gut. It’s usually right.

Bumblebee wasn’t a bad idea, she’d been playing with the idea since Dr. Palmer offered to teach her. Wings, the independent mobility would help when she was smaller. The energy pulses or “stingers” could be used offensively and being able to shrink would help with espionage like the team was meant to do.

B18-Lagoon Boy

La'gaan didn’t know how to feel on the team, he was the only Atlantean on the team. Kaldur left, he was a regular fish out of water. He needed to prove himself. Show them that he was better than Kaldur, not a replacement. Especially Miss Martian. She was really pretty, and had a nice laugh.

The more time La’gaan spent on the surface world the more he felt out of place. He couldn’t spend time with the team without hiding how he looked he didn’t blend in as easily as Kaldur did or was able to shapeshift like Miss Martian or Garfield could. He just was there, and it was trying hard to find his place on his team besides just the water guy.

B19-Beast Boy

M’gann was really upset about something and she wasn’t talking to him about it. Maybe it was something to do with getting kidnapped by Deathstroke and he was a lot scarier than Sportsmaster. La'gaan said he was a lot faster than Sportsmaster and stronger too. When M’gann got kidnapped and La’gaan broke his leg. Lagaan said that Deathstroke said something more chilling then Sportsmaster ever could,”Now I hate to see any poor animal in pain, but you aren’t on the Light’s list. How about a little anesthetic for the pain?”

Nightwing, Dick, said he was lucky to be alive and to just have a broken leg with a few bruises. La’gaan kept arguing with Nightwing about going to save M’gann, while Nightwing remained adamant about doing things his way, Gar couldn’t help but to agree with La’gaan, that was his sister, and he needed to get her back safely.

B20-Robin III

Nightwing and Robin were gone, Jason died. Tim knew that much, it was all over the news. Bruce Wayne’s ward Jason Todd murdered in Ethiopia by the Joker. Nightwing stopped patrol with Batman after that and Dick stopped going outside, stopped being seen around Gotham altogether. People at Gotham Academy said that he had a mental breakdown or tried to kill himself. Tim knew better, knew that Nightwing, Dick, left for a reason he wouldn’t just abandon Batman.

So Tim waited for months but he watched as Batman began to deteriorate. Read the stories about the criminals begging to be takening straight to Blackgate just don’t let Batman get at them. Then Tim had to act, Batman was going to kill someone or get himself killed. So Tim broke into the batcave, and offered to make himself Robin, he was denied. Then he followed Batman in a homemade Robin costume, telling Batman he needed a Robin and Tim was willing to fill that role for the time being, just until Nightwing came back.

B21-Wonder Girl

She was on the team! How cool was that! Nightwing was her boss, and he was so nice. A little sad and guilty but really nice. Anyway, back to the real point, she was related to Wonder woman, not like cousins or her mom married Wonder Woman’s brother or something. Her dad was Zeus, making her Wonder Woman’s little sister.

Kiran was going to be so jealous when she heard about it. She got to fight bad guys while her mother explored ruins. She met Superman. This is officially the best day ever. And Batgirl. The Batgirl, the only way this could get any better is if she met Robin. The first sidekick, the best one in her opinion.

B22-Blue Beetle III

Jaime thought the team was so cool, real live super heroes to help him use his powers. He was a little disappointed that he didn’t have someone familiar with the scarab like the previous Blue Beetle.

Everyone on the team was really nice but it felt like the senior members where hiding something. Besides the whole secret identity thing. Khaji Da said that you could tell what people were hiding by cold reading them but to Jaime that seemed like a bigger invasion of privacy then having an annoying bug trapped to your spine. “Jaime Reyes, our partnership can be seen as symbiotic.”

“Yes, because I have an annoying little voice second guessing my every move.”

“I do not second guess, I analyze and offer alternative courses of action. Take another look at the Red Arrow and the Nightwing. They seem to be arguing something.”

Nightwing seemed to be switching apathy and frustration, Red Arrow seemed to be concerned and had Nightwing sort of boxed in, he wasn't touching the younger vigilante but he wasn’t letting him escape either. Nightwing eventually pushed Red Arrow away from him, and Jaime caught the last part of the conversation,”I feel bad because of what I did not who it was done too. Batman should have left it alone, it’s my guilty conscience not his.”

B23-Impulse/Kid Flash II

It was terrible, the future, having to scavenge for parts, for food. One of the reasons he talked so much was because the two men that he worked with bordered nonverbal. The blonde was mute due to the large scar that crossed his throat, the one who wore a helmet would speak but hated to show his face so he wore a mask of poly-carbonate. They were built by the Hood when he saw that Bart was having trouble using his speed, so he based them off Kid Flash’s old lenses. Bart was going to go back to the past before the Reach invaded to prevent this future, his grandfather dying started this whole mess. If he saved Barry Allen he saved the world. Neutron was the chronal expert in the operation. The Hood was the engineer and tactician. The mute guy was the best scavenger and could find out any information you wanted, no one knew how or wanted to know how.

Hood looked up from the meal he scavenged for Bart,”You sure about this, kid? If what Nathaniel says is true. You won’t be coming back. If you are successful this time line will cease.”

The mute came back carrying the pieces of what’s going to be the time machine’s energy source, and looked at Bart expectantly,”I’m fine with it. This really isn’t a future worth coming back to.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Hood let out a hysterical laugh,”Hey, Jericho you got some blood on your collar.”

The mute made some motions with his hands, the Hood’s tone was mocking,”Oh, it’s not yours. That’s reassuring. Well it was a pleasure working with ya.”

Jericho motioned to Hood, his version of agreeing, Bart shook their hands,”May we meet again in the past. In the future and the life after that.”

B24-Guardian

Mal finally understood what Nightwing meant. The rush, the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the feeling that you were doing good. It was addicting.

When he first joined the team he wasn’t wearing the Guardian helm, he helped Nightwing run missions and coordinate communications between the team members. Finding out that the guy with the big blue bird on his chest was the first Robin, the first sidekick. The reason there was a team.

If it wasn’t for him who knew what would have happened, the team might not have existed. Connor might not have come to Rhode Island, he wouldn’t know about M’gann. He may not have been still together with Karen.

Mal didn’t have many regrets since he met Connor and M’gann but one of them was not picking up a suit sooner.

B25-Arsenal

The audacity of Nightwing to kick him off the team after he rescued everybody. He's just so infuriating, he belonged on that team his clone was placed n that team. He earned his spot, more than the rogue Blue Beetle did, or the time traveler impulse. Where did Nightwing get the authority of telling him what to do? He was just one of Batman’s apprentices. Hell Robin had been in the game longer then he had, and yet there he was differing to him, like NIghtwing was the alpha dog.

“I can’t believe him.” Arsenal said storming into Red arrow’s apartment.

“Can’t believe who?” Red Arrow looked up from holding Lian in a Nightwing onesie, Arsenal could not escape the guy. What made him so great anyway?

“Nightwing, he kicked me off the team.”

Red Arrow sighed,”What happened?”

“Blue Beetle turned on us so I opened the airlock, and he started to take us out. Superboy provided a distraction so I could escape.” Arsenal sat down on the couch as Red shifted Lian so she was laying on his chest,”What’s his deal anyway? He seems to have it out for me after we went to Smallville.”

Roy pursed his lips,”Was Robin in any danger on the Warworld? In Smallville?”

“No, I had it under control.” Arsenal said crossing his arm.

Roy rolled his eyes at the moody teenager on his couch, he knew why Nightwing kicked him off the team. He didn’t want to get Tim killed like Jason, even though the only person you could blame for Jason’s death was the Joker, ”Nightwing’s brother died. He blames himself. He doesn’t let Robin be put in danger and when he is, he’ll remove that threat or protect Robin anyway possible.”

“Robin’s been around for 10 years, he can handle himself. Nightwing doesn't need to interfere.”

“Nightwing’s nineteen and buried his brother before he could vote, hell the Robin you know is the third one. Nightwing was the first. Part of him will always be that scared little kid, he didn’t mean any harm by it. He's trying to protect his family.”

“I didn’t know.” Arsenal said, feeling a little sorry.

“Most people don’t. They think there were only two, and it’s gotten to the point where it’s easier for Nightwing not to mention the second one. He’ll come around just let him mellow out.”

B26-Static

Virgil joined the team because what else would he do with his powers. Black Lightning offered to train him and he was excited about that. This team was full of skilled people who would have his back at the expense of him having theirs.

He liked the team, sure he was a little bristly toward Nightwing after he fired Arsenal but he hung out with the older vigilante and he was always willing to give advice or training, and Arsenal said he was Robin, the first Robin. How cool was that?

“Hey Nightwing?” Nightwing looked up from his tablet and Nightwing did not look thrilled at what was going on on the screen,”Oh am I bugging you?”

“Nah just discussing how to best piss off an assassin, what’s up?” Nightwing said turning the tablet off.

“You think you could teach me how to fight?” Virgil saw how Nightwing fought he had a lot of skills, and if he was Robin he was used to fighting people bigger and more dangerous than him.

“Of course, lesson 1. There is no dirty tricks.” Nightwing stood up and stretched,”Lesson 2 and Robin taught me this, if someone is bigger than you hit fast. You hit hard. Then run as far away as you can.”

“Wait, Robin who’s dating Cassie?”

Nightwing’s easygoing grin faltered, but then he shrugged,”Could have been Troia, black hair pain in my side. Who knows?”

#yjsecretsanta #young justice #Nightwing #hes in most #my writing #fanfiction #secret santa #gifts #fan fic #Roy harper #dick grayson

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Joker: DC Comics Reading Order - The Best Stories With the Clown Prince of Crime

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Has the Joker movie inspired you to read some comics? We've got some suggestions!

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The Joker is the most recognizable villain in all of comics, and as such, there are as many takes on him as there are creators who have worked on a Batman comic. Fortunately for us, for every Jared Leto out there, there are fifteen awesome comic stories. So if you’re coming out of the Joker movie with a thirst for more good, thoughtful, interesting stories using the Clown Prince of Crime, we’ve got some comics for you.

Batman: The Killing Joke

This is probably the most influential Joker story of all time. Alan Moore’s dense psychoanalysis of the Joker is formative to just about every writer who came afterwards, and Brian Bolland’s stunningly gorgeous pencils combined with John Higgins perfect colors to create an eerie, dark, vicious story that has become the generally accepted origin for the character.

read more: The Many Joker Origin Stories Explained

The story bounces back and forth between showing how an unnamed, down on his luck schmo got wrapped up in a heist that ended with him at the bottom of a pool of chemicals, and showing that schmo, now a criminal mastermind, kidnapping Commissioner Gordon and trying to drive him to the same kind of mental break that the story implies is at fault for the Joker’s creation. It’s the first one to really draw strong parallels between the Joker’s mental state and Batman’s, casting the two of them as two possible outcomes to the same break.

And did I mention it’s incredible to look at? Whether you’re a comics scholar or new to the medium, I can almost guarantee you’ve seen that cover, with the Joker holding a camera sideways in front of his face telling you to smile. 

Buy Batman: The Killing Joke on Amazon

Batman: The Man Who Laughs

Ed Brubaker isn’t often talked about as a seminal Batman writer, but he’s defined entire swaths of Batman’s world over his career, and The Man Who Laughs is a big one. This book, drawn by the great Doug Mahnke, takes a look at the Joker’s first interaction with Batman. He’s poisoning people all over Gotham City, and he has a plan to poison the reservoir. Batman works to stop him.

It’s a much more straightforward, less avant-garde Joker than he can get in later times, but the story is told with a modern sensibility and outstanding art from Mahnke. Brubaker (and Greg Rucka, who we’ll talk about in a few) writes detective Batman as well or better than anyone in a generation, and The Man Who Laughs is full of really great detective work with Bruce piecing together who the Joker is and what he’s trying to do. And the fight sequence at the end of the issue is good, classic, straight up Batman/Joker brawling. If you want a way to ease into Joker stories, this is a great one.

Buy Batman: The Man Who Laughs on Amazon

The Joker’s Five-Way Revenge

It’s not often an entire character can be distilled down to a single panel of comics, but Neal Adams effectively did that in Batman #251. Adams is a tremendous artist who changed the entire industry with his panel layouts and action sequences, but the Joker’s “ta daa!” hands and his smile next to a bearing down shark as he says “We resemble each other!” is incredible.

read more: What the Joker Controversy Gets Wrong

This one-off story has the Joker breaking out of a pre-Arkham Asylum mental hospital, hunting down the five ex-henchmen who might have betrayed him to put him away. Only one of them did, but he’s covering his bases, and the issue ends with a wheelchair-bound ex-aide precariously balanced over a tank with an angry shark in it. Batman gets dropped in and has to beat the shark and then save the henchman. It’s one of the best Batman sequences of all time, and the issue captures so much about the Joker that makes him great: his meticulous planning and forethought and his absurd, violent sense of humor. This one is collected in The Joker: The Greatest Stories Ever Told and will likely be wrapped up in a Neal Adams omnibus sooner rather than later.

Buy The Joker’s Five-Way Revenge on Amazon

The Laughing Fish

Detective Comics #475-476 is another quick story that was incredibly influential on how both Batman and the Joker were portrayed moving forward. That importance stems from two things: the ridiculous, malicious joy of the Joker’s plot, and Marshall Rogers’ art.

The plot was turned into the episode of the same name for Batman: The Animated Series.  A fish wholesaler has made fish that look like the Joker for branding purposes, and the Joker, mad he can’t monetize his own visage the same way, goes on a killing spree to get his rights back. This is darkly hilarious, especially the deeper you dive into the metaphor - the mid ‘70s was a big time for comic creator rights, and Rogers was a big part of that. This comic is basically an effigy for comic creators rights.

read more: The Many Deaths of the Joker

It’s also incredible to look at. Rogers is one of those Batman artists everyone should read at some point, a definitive Batman artist who used the Joker to get even better. Rogers’ Batman is bulkier than some of the Batmen of the time, powerful and intimidating. By contrast, his Joker is long and lanky and bony, the kind of guy who hangs with Batman in a fight not with brute force, but with deceptive speed and a weird amount of torque. You can find these issues collected in Legends of the Dark Knight: Marshall Rogers vol. 1 along with another handful of Batman comics from the same era. These creator compilations are some of the best money you can spend. Especially if you get them on sale digitally or find them in a sale pile at your shop.

A Death in the Family

Great Joker stories are often about what they bring out in Batman. “Death in the Family,” an event story from 1988, is memorable because it brought out pure, shaking, rage from Bruce. This is the story where fans called in a vote on whether or not to kill Robin.

read more: The Actors Who Have Played the Joker

Jason Todd was the second person to hold the Robin mantle. He was a street kid who fell in with Batman and didn’t really know his mother. After he gets benched by Batman for being unreliable, he runs off to try and find out who his mother is, finds (maybe) her working for Shady Doctors Without Borders in Iran, and promptly gets captured by the Joker, beaten almost to death with a crowbar, and then blown up in a warehouse by said Clown Prince. And right afterwards, the Joker is given a position with the Ayatollah’s government and gains diplomatic immunity, effectively pulling a Lethal Weapon 2 on Batman and Superman.

This story is odd, but it’s also significant in the history of Batman, and revealing for the Joker’s character. He’s not all high-concept death traps. Sometimes he’s just a guy with a crowbar. In either case, he’s one of the most dangerous villains in the DCU.

Buy A Death in the Family on Amazon

Joker

If you really enjoyed Heath Ledger’s aesthetic in The Dark Knight, you’re going to love Lee Bermejo’s Joker in this book. He’s everything Ledger was in the movie - disheveled, magnetic, menacing without being intimidating - but he’s also fashionable in a street level mob boss kind of way. That break from Ledger’s Joker is the perfect match for this story.

read more: 10 Times the Joker Almost Nailed Batman

This Joker is grimy and street level. He’s EXTREMELY violent but without the comic book panache he usually has. Here he’s just aggressive, with bottles and guns and knives and no sharks or hot air balloons or parades. But he still maintains that core Jokerness, that unpredictability that makes the character so terrific. 

Buy Joker on Amazon

The Batman Adventures: Mad Love

Paul Dini and Bruce Timm are responsible for the greatest and most definitive Batman of all time - the animated one. They also created Harley Quinn, and told a bunch of great stories with her (“Harley’s Day Out” is one of the best Batman stories ever told), but Mad Love also functions as an excellent examination of Batman and Joker’s relationship.

If you’ve watched the show, you probably know what happens in this comic, as it was adapted in a later episode of the cartoon. The Joker won’t pay any attention to Harley because he’s obsessed with killing Batman, so she decides to do it for him so they can spend time together. We get a look back at her origin, working as a doctor at Arkham and falling for the Joker as she tries to treat him, with all the unreliable narration that entails. The weird hate-triangle this issue explores is a fantastic dynamic to add to the Joker’s backstory, and the issue is by a pair of Batman masters. 

Buy The Batman Adventures: Mad Love on Amazon

Gotham Central: Soft Targets

Gotham Central is incredible. It was a police procedural comic, following the cops of the Major Crimes Unit in Gotham as they worked on all of the various awful stuff that happened in the city, from regular old crimes of passion to a parade of dead teenagers in Robin outfits being left randomly across the city. It was written jointly by Greg Rucka and Ed Brubaker, with Rucka writing the day shift cops, and Brubaker taking the night shift. "Soft Targets" is the storyline that ran from issue 12 to 15, where the Joker just starts sniping people. For the hell of it.

Police procedurals are comfort food, but Gotham Central succeeded because it added something to the formula that made it shine. The characters felt familiar and real at the same time. The conflicts were down to earth for a superhero comic - the first issue dedicates about a third of its story to the Mayor and the Commissioner arguing over overtime pay for the Major Crimes Unit. And even the Joker’s plan, spree killing for chaos’ sake, was remarkably toned down. But it gives us one of the best interrogation scenes in comics history, just by taking the Joker out of his predictable formula, too. 

Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth and The Clown at Midnight

A word of caution here: these books are challenging for even serious comic readers. They’re very rewarding, but they’re not comics you can just pick up an see the Joker and Batman fighting. Both are written by Grant Morrison, with Arkham Asylum drawn by Sandman cover artist Dave McKean. This book is a dense, psychological character study of a LOT of Batman’s villains, but it spends a lot of time on the relationship between Batman and the Joker, as Batman is in the Asylum trying to shut down a riot.

The Clown at Midnight is also written by Morrison and...drawn...by John Van Fleet. I hesitate because what art is there is very evocative, intentionally early period computer graphics. This issue, Batman #663, was published in 2007 (and again as part of the Batman & Son collected edition), but the art looks like it was made on a Compaq 486. That’s intentional - the issue is full of prose segments about how the Joker sheds old personalities like a snake sheds its skin. It’s a very granular way to understand who the Joker is and what he does, but it’s also very good - it’s part of Morrison’s larger Batman story that starts with Batman & Son, runs through R.I.P. and Batman & Robin and finally ends with Batman, Inc. Arkham Asylum is kind of a precursor to this run, so if you want to get started here, it’s worth doing both of these collections and seeing how you enjoy them.

Buy Arkham Asylum on Amazon

For more Joker comics you should read, more Joker movies you should watch, or more about the Joker’s best video game appearances (spoilers: #1 is Shang Tsung’s fatality in Mortal Kombat X), stick with Den of Geek!

Read and download the Den of Geek NYCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature Jim Dandy

Oct 9, 2019

DC Entertainment

Joker

Batman

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