#need jason to wrap his big arms around me and just hold me <////3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slashers-and-rats · 8 months

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all em slashers with a martial artist reader :o

(so I Can kick billy :3)

thank you for that photo. it brings me a great deal of joy, and i might redraw it with billy inside. throw these men around. i support you.

slashers featured : billy lenz, thomas hewitt, jason vorhees, brahms heelshire, and vincent sinclair.

billy lenz :

he really enjoys that you can overpower him so easily. sure, he seems all scary and tough, but he really just wants to be man handled sometimes. the way you throw him around and pin him down makes him feel so weak and helpless. he fuckin’ loves it.

he likes when you have him locked from behind, vulnerable to whatever you’re gonna do to him. it makes him feel like a pinned beetle, with his arms spread and legs stuck. in moments like those, he really wishes you’d take advantage of the situation and just torture him. he voices that opinion too, don’t you worry.

he also likes roughhousing with you. he likes it when he thinks he’s got you held down, only for you to throw him over your body and straddle him hard to the floor. he’ll be drooling and rambling, saying that he wants you to choke him and crush his bones and beat him up. it’s cute, in a weird way.

it’s also the fact you can protect him. he wants to be protected. he doesn’t like feeling on edge all the time. knowing that you’re the one that can keep you two safe really puts him at ease.

thomas hewitt :

he’s a big boy. a big big boy. very muscular boy. but muscles are not everything. we both know that.

he roughhouses with hoyt sometimes, and so when you two started dating and you joked that you could take him in a fight, he was so ready. or so he thought. the first time you had him pinned to the floor, he was truly shocked. but also, mesmerized. he didn’t know why, but he kinda liked it.

maybe it was because he was always the tough one, or the strong one. maybe he just liked feeling small and weak for once. who knows? but something about the way you’d wrap your arm around his neck, and push his face into the floor laughing, clearly just having a good time. it made him melt. he couldn’t admit it, but it did.

you can’t lift him or anything. again, he’s a big guy. but you get him other ways. when he’s not looking, you grapple him from behind and hold his arms hostage. or, when you two are play fighting, you sometimes wind up with his head crushed between your thighs. it makes him blush so hard.

he especially likes the way you look after. texas is hot, that much physical exertion makes it hotter. so by the time you’re both tuckered out, you’re panting and sweaty and tired. it looks almost sinful to him. he looks even cuter, his hair a mess and his face red from getting embarrassed. he’s a big teddy bear, and you squeezing him like one makes him so happy.

jason vorhees :

jason doesn’t fight unless he feels he needs to. he also doesn’t really feel comfortable play fighting you, unlike others, and so most of you showing off your skills is during practices or martial arts competitions.

he usually sits hidden away in the back of the stands, and he’s a big supporter. he’ll hold up banners with your name on them, and after the match he’ll run to you and hug you tight and squeeze you like no tomorrow. he’s always so impressed by you.

he does make you teach him some moves. he likes the way you guide him through the swings and the kicks. he’ll throw his fist out, only for you to gently guide it higher. it makes him feel hot under his mask. most practices turn into canoodling sessions, since he can’t keep himself contained. he gets so flustered, he can’t help it, and you think it’s so cute.

sometimes you use your skills on him without knowing. like, he finds it very attractive when you pin his hands down while you two are getting heavy, or when you press him down on his chest on the bed. some of those skills are translatable to other activities, that’s for sure.

brahms heelshire :

brahms is childish at heart, we all know this. and so he loves to sneak up on you when you’re busy. the first time he did this, he got thrown over your shoulder out of instinct. he thought it was so much fun, sailing through the air like that! and you’re so cool, how could he not think it was great!!

after that, he made you practice moves on him all the time. he likes the big take downs. he likes getting thrown around like a rag doll. you don’t mind, obviously. it’s not hard for you, he’s not that heavy of a guy. he’s lean. so getting him into the desired position is always pretty easy.

he doesn’t fight back, that’s not the point. he likes being your practice dummy, cuz he thinks you’re cool. he’s not the most coordinated anyways, so you using him as a punching bag is the easier option for you both. that being said, you never hurt the guy. you’re more showing off than anything, and he fucking loves it. it makes him squeal and giggle, and he’s always begging you to do it again.

vincent sinclair :

bo used to kick the shit out of this kid, and so when he saw you practicing martial arts for the first time, he was perplexed. for the first little while, he’d just stay hidden and copy your moves from the shadows. he’d try to mimic what you were doing on his pillows or other things around the museum. it was fun for him.

you caught him doing it one day. he had a reference doll in a choke hold. you recognized it as the one you had been practicing that day, and it made you very amused. you scared him when you came up and began correcting his stance, but he liked it. you were teaching him how to defend himself. it felt good.

he liked knowing how tough you were. sometimes he felt so small and pathetic. but when you were there with him, you stood up to whoever it was that was being mean. he wished you had been around when he was a kid, it would’ve made his childhood a lot easier.

he can’t take practicing with you, though. you getting that close to his face, and the feeling of your skin against his- it’s too much, sometimes. he gets overwhelmed, he’s a complicated boy. so, he finds dummies for you to demonstrate on so he can practice too.

when you do manage to convince him to spar with you, he loses pretty quick. he can’t help it. the second you get his legs pinned and his hands behind his back, he’s a flustered mess. it’s not his fault, don’t blame my boy. he just likes you, and any vaguely intimate touch makes him embarrassed. but keep doing it, he likes it.

#billy lenz x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #jason vorhees x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #slasher x reader

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sergeantsporks · 2 years

Text

Gilded Family

@maya-custodios-dionach

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 3/?: Something New to Guard

Ch 1, Ch 2

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

“You ready?”

Hunter fidgeted as Jason’s ‘mom’ plucked at the edges of the bandages. “Sure. Yes. You’ve taken them off before.”

“Yes, to check on the healing, but this is it, they’re coming off, you’re done. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.”

Still, he tensed as she unwrapped the bandages, exposing the skin to the air. The areas were a reddish brownish color, puckered. He could trace lines from the bolts of artificial magic that had done this to him. His hand drifted to his face, puckered and scarred.

She drew a circle in the air, and a mirror appeared. “I did my best, but… uh, do you want to look?”

He caught a glimpse of a half-singed off eyebrow, and quickly turned the mirror over. “Not just yet.” Hunter ran a hand over the scars on his arm. “Not my finest features!” he joked, but his voice shook, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Titan.”

“Permission to touch?”

Hunter nodded, and Mrs. Wittebane wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. “You’ve been so brave about this,” she murmured, “and I am so proud of you. I’ve cared for so many of you kids after Phillip hurt you, and I just…”

Hunter’s shoulder became damp as tears dripped from her eyes, and he slowly put his own arms around her. She needed the hug the more than he did, he thought. “I’m not a kid,” he reminded her gently, patting her back. “I’m twenty-seven.”

She pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “Oh, I know, I know.” She sniffed, giving him a wobbly smile. “Sorry. I’m just…” she sighed. “I wish there was something else we could do, that isn’t just waiting for people to get hurt, is all. But it’s… it is what it is, I guess.” One more swipe at her eyes, and then she got up, straightening her skirt. “Sorry about that, I just… Never mind. If you need any help about the…” she waved her hand vaguely around her face. “…just let me know.”

She swept out, and Hunter poked his head out after, watching Jason peel himself off of the wall outside his room, chasing her down and grabbing her in a hug. She wrapped one arm around him and they disappeared out the door.

“Yeah, he’s kind of a mama’s boy.”

Hunter jumped, dropping down and swinging his leg out in an arc to knock over the intruder. He hopped neatly over the leg, and Hunter recognized him as another Grimwalker, with thick, short scars covering his arms. And his torso, he realized as he caught sight of another one on his collarbone.

“Startled you?”

“A little,” Hunter admitted. He didn’t like that the Grimwalker had managed to approach unnoticed, but he supposed that if anyone could, it would be another golden guard. “Which one are…?”

“Horus. Congrats on getting the bandages off, have you been able to face yourself in a mirror yet?”

“No,” Hunter grumbled.

How common of an occurrence is that?

Common enough that Horus’ nose wrinkled in amusement, apparently. “Oh, you know what? I know a great way to blow off some steam, shake some of the angst out. Come on.”

Hunter followed him outdoors, squinting at the house from the outside. “Horus? Do you know what that’s for?” He pointed to a small part of the house he’d never been in, a bit that stuck out, but looked older, like it was part of the original building and other extra rooms had been built on the opposite side of the house.

A shadow crossed Horus’ face, but just for a second. “Yeah, no one goes in there. Don’t worry about it, let’s go.” He pulled a notepad and pencil out of his pocket, handing them to Hunter. “You’ll want these.”

Not cryptic at all.

What’s in that room?

A group of three others waved to Horus, each holding their own notepad and pencil, and Horus jogged over. “Hey, so, he’s going to join us this go round, k? Hunter, these are Meleager, Venari, and Hamlet.”

They each raised a hand as Horus called out their names. None of them were particularly scarred—at least, not the way he and Horus were, just the usual kind of scarring that came from the golden guard job.

Hunter absentmindedly twirled his pencil between his fingers. “What… exactly is it that we’re doing?”

Meleager grinned. He looked the oldest, and had two notches in each ear, as well as a silver-white scar going across one cheekbone. “Are you any good at hunting, Hunter?”

“’course he is,” Venari piped up with a chuckle. Their hair was tied back in a braid, and they had three long scars, like clawmarks, that came right down the middle of their face. “he’s one of us!”

The four grimwalkers laughed, like this was some kind of hilarious inside joke.

I suppose we did do a lot of hunting. Demons. Wild witches.

Hunter waved the notepad and pencil. “What’re these for?”

Meleager shook his head. “Didn’t you read anything about wild magic?”

“No.”

“He did,” Hamlet offered. This grimwalker had a scar going over one eye, and his nose was a different shape than Hunter’s, a little closer to Uncle Belos’ shape. “A little too much. Belos squashed him for it. Literally, he got stuck between two metal plates, and Belos added weight until—”

Meleager elbowed him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know his weird obsession with horrific human realm punishments, we don’t need to hear how he tried to kill me again, ANYWAY, jock, lemme show you possibly the coolest thing on the planet—” He scrawled an odd circle on a piece of paper and tapped it. A ball of light rose up, and any lingering ‘what?!’ thoughts Hunter had from the ‘obsession with human realm punishments’ comment was immediately replaced with an even BIGGER brain blank.

“That’s magic.”

“You should have done an ice one,” Venari complained, “then it would have actually been the coolest thing on the planet.”

Hunter waved a hand at the light. “That. Is. Magic! How did you do that?!”

If I’d known about this sooner…

I don’t know, I just feel like things would have been different, somehow.

Meleager shook his head sadly. “Today’s youth just don’t read,” he sighed dramatically, “Too busy with their Penstagram scrolls, and their crystal ball dramas.”

“They’re called glyphs,” Horus filled in, “lines inside of circles, they draw on the isles to make magic. If you want a real lesson, go to Sam, if you can find him, but for now, here are the basic ones.”

Meleager scoffed offendedly while Horus doodled more, showing the page to Hunter and pointing to each in turn. “Light. Fire. Ice. Plant. You can combine them for different things, but we mostly use the plant and ice ones for hunting. Ready to go? We’ll start with just checking our traps. We try not to hunt too much because, well, we don’t want to overhunt, there would be nowhere to go afterward. But the traps catch most of what we eat.”

The four of them pulled hoods up, tossing an extra cowl to Hunter and hopping over the fence that separated the neat garden and orchard of the Wittebanes from the wild forest beyond. Hunter pulled up his own hood, jumping after them.

“Stress relief, huh?”

“It’s important to keep bigger, predatory demons away,” Hamlet explained, “The safer the area seems, the more game comes this way. Chasing a big ‘ol demon with an ice spear while yelling ferociously is incredibly therapeutic, you wouldn’t believe.”

Venari drew and activated a glyph, and an ice spear of their own appeared in their hand. “Plus…”

They bolted forward, to a trap where a ratworm writhed, hissing angrily. One clean thrust of the spear through its head almost immediately stopped the wiggling. Venari sighed.

“It’s kinda nice to picture that it’s Uncle there.”

Hunter shuddered at the thought of driving a spear through Belos’ skull. It didn’t sit right, despite everything. “I mean, I know he hurt us, I know he needs to go, but you guys think you would… actually be able to do it?”

“Without a doubt,” Meleager said immediately.

“Titan, Hamlet already tried,” Horus offered.

Hunter twisted to look back at the grimwalker. His magenta eyes almost seemed to glow as a crooked smile dragged across his face. “Yeah. I tried to poison him when I found out about what happened to our family.”

“What happened?” Hunter breathed.

“Oh, he swapped my food with his without me realizing. He knew, he always knew, he was just waiting for me to make a move. But I could have done it. I would have.”

Venari held their arm up. Their coven seal had scars going through it, like someone had attacked it with a knife. “I tried to get mine off. He chained me to a rock and tossed me in a lake. If it weren’t for Dad, I… yeah, anyway, if I ever saw our uncle again, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Horus chuckled. “As if any of us would actually be a match for him.”

“Did you try to kill him?” Hunter asked quietly.

Horus shrugged. “I tried to defend myself. Caught mixing magics, you know how it is. Fought back and got knifed for it. Just like Dad. Like to return the favor one day, but let’s be real. If Belos found us, he’d do the same thing again. And this time, there wouldn’t be a miracle to save us.”

“I’d get him,” Venari growled, summoning another spear, “I’d…” their ears twitched. “Did you hear that?”

Hunter strained his ears, and then he heard it. A small cry for help. “Do you think someone got caught in one of your traps?”

The other grimwalkers summoned ice spears of their own. “Probably setting a trap of their own,” Meleager growled, “No one comes out this far—why would they be out there? A mimic demon, maybe?”

“I’ll check it out while you guys fan out to look for traps or hidden enemies?” Hunter suggested.

They glanced at each other, then nodded. Hunter ran towards the call. As he got closer, he could hear creaking and thrashing. Something was caught in a trap, and as he came closer, he caught sight of a white cloak flipped over a head, and a grey mask lying on the ground.

“Patrol the outer forest,” the scout grumbled, firing a spell at the rope around his ankle and missing, “It’ll be easy! Nothing but a few beast type demons! But nooooo where there are demons, there are bounty hunters, and… HELLO? HELP? ANYONE?”

Hunter saw Venari creeping around with his spear, and he waved. “It’s alright,” he called to the circling grimwalkers, “Just a lost scout!”

He jogged towards the trapped scout, but the other Grimwalkers surrounded him first.

“What are you doing out here?” Meleager demanded.

“I’m just on patrol, if you could let me out—”

Horus jabbed at him with his spear, making him yelp. “Liar. No one patrols out here.”

“Hey!” Hunter protested, “They probably just started a new patrol route, let him—”

“Go?” Venari asked, “No way. He’s up to something.”

“I’m really not!”

Venari gave the scout a poke with their spear. “Shut up! Why did Belos send you out here?!”

“Bel—I mean, it’s just a new patrol route, my captain assigned it, I guess the emperor could have asked we patrol more thoroughly, but I—”

The next jab from Meleager drew blood. “Quit hiding the truth.”

Hunter knocked the spear from his hands. “That’s enough! He’s just a scout on patrol, he’s not up to anything sinister, and you don’t need to hurt him!”

Hamlet snorted in disbelief, pointing his spear at the scout. “Why not? He’s probably hurt people! He deserves it, he works for Belos!”

Hunter grabbed his spear. “That doesn’t make him evil. He’s just a scout. Let him go.”

Venari jabbed at the scout again. “They stood aside,” he snarled, “They let Belos do awful things, they HELPED him do awful things, and they never once questioned!”

“Neither did we! I said, that’s enough.” Hunter wrenched the spear away from Hamlet and used it to knock away the other spears, spinning it in his hands.

The other golden guards were fast, they’d all been trained the same way he had, but he had the benefit of having been a guard only a week or two ago, while they’d been living here for months or even years, their battle-trained muscles and instincts softening under the Wittebane’s care. He disarmed them quickly, throwing the spears to the side. They glared at him mutinously, but didn’t try to make another.

Hunter gently bopped the top of their heads. “You can’t just go around hurting anyone and everyone because you’re angry at Belos! We’re going back to the house.”

Hamlet glanced at the scout. “But what about—”

“We’re going. Back. To the house. You can pick the ratworm up on the way.”

He herded them back towards the neat fence, in through the gate this time, and into the griffin coop where the original was feeding the creatures.

“Hey, boys, have a good hunting trip?”

Hunter crossed his arms, pushing the four grimwalkers in front of him. “Tell him what you did.”

“Caught a scout,” Venari grumbled.

“Tried to get information out of him,” Hamlet continued with a sigh.

Hunter nudged Horus after a moment of silence. “Ugh, fine, we maybe poked him with our spears a bit.”

Wittebane’s mouth opened and closed, and then he heaved a sigh. “Thank you, Hunter. Can you show our resident expert witch where the scout is, please?”

Hunter nodded and left the coop, lurking outside the door. A small part of him felt guilty for turning them in—would they be punished?

“We’ve been over this, boys,” Wittebane said with a sigh, “You can’t just… hunting is supposed to be a semi-constructive outlet, but if you’re going to hurt people, it’s going to stop.”

“They’re scouts,” Meleager burst out, “They work for Belos. We can’t just let them…”

“Let them what? Were they hurting you?”

“No,” Meleager grumbled, “But if they get too close-!”

“Then your mother will wipe their memories. There is no need to attack them, and you know that. We don’t hurt people. We’re not like that, okay?”

“They work for Belos,” Venari reiterated, “They’re—they’re—”

“They’re not Belos,” Wittebane said gently, “Hurting them doesn’t hurt him. You know that he doesn’t care about the lives of the scouts.”

“We were just trying to protect the house!” Hamlet responded defensively, “Even if the scout WASN’T up to something, what if he saw us and brought Belos back?”

“Would you even protect us?” Horus asked, “Would you hurt Belos if he showed up to kill us again? Would you kill him to protect us?”

Hunter winced. Ouch.

There was a heavy pause. “If my brother showed up, my first priority would be to protect all of you,” Wittebane said in a grief-stricken voice, “I would make sure all of you got to safety first.”

“But if it were just you, and Belos, in a room, and all of us were safe?” Horus pressed, “If it were just the two of you, and you had the chance to make sure he couldn’t hurt any of us ever again, would you do it? Or would you let him live?”

The last words were loaded with so much venom Hunter was surprised that the original didn’t collapse on the spot. He slipped off to find Mrs. Wittebane without waiting for the answer. Jason and Mole were with her in the garden picking vegetables and putting them in a floating basket. The two of them waved, turning her attention to him.

“Hello, Hunter. How’re you feeling?”

“There’s a scout in the woods that got stuck in a trap,” he explained.

The basket dropped. “Show me.”

She kept up with him well—he hadn’t expected her to be able to and had started at a slow pace, but now he sped up, and she followed suit, vaulting over tree logs and ducking under branches with ease. She looked like she belonged here in the forest, her hair whipping out behind her.

Maybe that’s why they’re called wild witches.

He skidded to a halt. The scout had managed to get down by himself, but his ankle was rubbed raw, and he was leaning glumly against a tree. He started to scramble away when he saw them.

“Stay back!”

“Sleep,” Mrs. Wittebane commanded, drawing a spell circle. The scout collapsed, and she took out a pair of tweezers, pulling out a photograph memory of the grimwalkers surrounding him and burning it. She held glowing hands over him, and his wounds started to heal over.

“Man, this is NOTHING compared to what she had to deal with for us,” Jason’s voice said at Hunter’s elbow. He jumped.

“Don’t startle me like that!”

“Sorry.”

Mole scrambled up the tree to dismantle the rest of the trap, cutting it down with a pocketknife. Jason shook his head.

“Man, they did it again, huh?”

“Again?!”

Jason shifted. “Some of us have… trouble adjusting. All of us went through an angry phase, I think, when we had time to process what had happened to us. Scouts are pretty easy targets. Dad can usually talk us down. But some of us stayed angry. I guess I get it.” He shrugged. “Maybe more of us should have stayed angry. But it’s kinda nice to let that go, you know? It’s not like we have to see him again. We’re safe here. Mom and Dad will protect us.” His nose wrinkled. “Not that any of us are exactly helpless. I think I’d be able to fight off anything that came our way.” He bumped Hunter with his shoulder. “You know. In case you were scared of him coming to get us.”

Hunter bumped him back, lost in thought.

Would you hurt Belos if he showed up to kill them again?

Mole hopped down from the tree, the trap dismantled in his hands. Mrs. Wittebane ruffled his hair, and shepherded the three of them back towards the house. Mrs. Wittebane broke off to go into the griffin coop, where Hunter caught a glimpse of the original sitting alone with his head in his hands.

I think I could do it.

If I had to.

“I’d protect you from him,” he said out loud to Jason, “If he ever found us. You too, Mole.”

Jason jumped. “Oh! Aw, thanks. That’s nice of you.”

Hunter’s hand drifted to the scar on his face, the one he hadn’t seen yet, but he could feel stretching across his skin.

I wouldn’t let him hurt any of them again.

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #the golden guard #my writing #wittebro #gilded family au

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slasherwife · 3 years

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S/o pampering the slashers + Vincent , they come home and the s/o prepared a bath and cook them dinner.

Y/n Spoiling Their Slasher

Ooh funn! Sometimes these poor bois need extra love 🥺💞

Thomas:

- He would be a flustered baby from the beginning🥺

- He would feel bad that you’re doing this stuff for him and would feel a bit awkward since he’s so used to being the provider, that he wouldn’t really know how to act 🌼

- He clings to you for guidance, because being so relaxed and spoiled like this feels like a crime to him. And that breaks my heart.

- You end up being the mother hen, coaxing him and cooing at him as he looks up at you as if you're an angel. He'll lower himself into the bath and hold onto your hand, falling into a pit of pure love for you. You are literally his angel and you are GLOWING in his eyes💕

- when you give him a special dinner, he eats it happily and offers to share almost everything with you. It's like he's mostly concerned with what's on your plate instead of his, glancing over and making sure you're enjoying yourself. He can't help it though, it's completely second nature to him 💫💖

He is still hesitant to let himself be comfortable because he has literally never had anything like this ever in his life. He still looks to you for guidance and you tell him that you won't make him do anything he's not comfortable with.

- You both end the night with him clinging to you, buried his face in your stomach with his arms wrapped around your hips. He repeats in his mind that he doesn't deserve an angel like you until he falls asleep, dreaming about you. This boy is lovesick. 💕

Jason

- Jason would just full on melt. He already knew how kind and loving you could be, and honestly isn't too surprised that you would do this. He nevertheless of course, puts his masked-face on your temple in the form of a kiss, and strokes your ear as a thank you💗

- Big boy doesn't waste a minute, he's stripped and ready to dive in. He definitely did NOT expect you to come over there and help him wash. Unsurprisingly he got bashful and looked away as you lovingly scratched his shoulders and unknotted his huge biceps and neck. He ends up going slack in the tub from how good it feels. 😊

- His eyes don't leave you most of the time. He looks away bashfully when you glance at him or smile at him, and his heart is just a fluttery mess at you. When you courteously look away when he steps out of the bath, you direct him to a big meal you made <3

- He has no idea where to start he is a trainwreck at just eating a mf meal. You smile encouragingly at him as he delicately uses his fork (which looks like a toothpick in his hands) and eats like he's at the queen's reception ceremony. He is SO polite. Uses a napkin and everything.

- I canon that he was ALWAYS hungry pre-zombie phase, and could literally eat 5 horses in one sitting (a weird visual but--) he signs to you asking what you were going to eat, and will literally fight with you about you taking his plate if you haven't eaten yet. 💖😤

- hes a babe

Michael

- this bitch. you already know bae.

- He would refuse the bath because he finds it weird that he would bathe in a bath you made him (im confused too dw) He will stand there, his 7 ft tall ass, shaking his head at you no.

- you somehow end up getting in the bath with him because that was the only chance he would take the bath-- with you literally stuck to him as he drags you around like a pool noodle 🥲

- he might initiate funky time but probably not. he just wants to be clean tbh. He spends the entire bath time smelling your hair as he doesn't allow you to move for a good 10 minutes. He strokes your neck though which is nice 💖

- after you guys both leave the bath, he is still carrying you like a purse, but lets you at least put on a towel so you're not sitting naked at the dinner table.

- He's really touchy tonight, and it's mostly because he's filled to the rim with love for you. 💗He expresses it with roughhousing though and handling you like a ragdoll. He does NOT mean to hurt you though and will be gentle if you tell him to cut it out.

- He eats absolutely everything on his plate gratefully, again, doesn't express it in the most civil way, but he appreciates it (surprisingly). He actually might eat from your plate, you can't tell me this 7 ft giant doesn't run on five rotisserie chickens a day.

Bo Sinclair

- I literally didn't even want to write for this dude. He is an asshole. But he's a hot asshole with daddy vibes so here we are 😤💗

- I would never expect Bo to worship you in return for you doing this for him. There are some things he will boast and tease you about being a swoon for him, being obsessed over him and whatnot~~~ But stuff like this is a little too much for that. It almost touches him. Almost💘

- He initially just doesn't know what to say. He loves you, that’s obvious. So he doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying the wrong thing (which he does ALL THE TIME) so he's going to be uncharacteristically non hyper-verbal

- When you tell him you have a bath running for him upstairs, he'll think you're joking at first. When it becomes obvious that you're not, you lead him to it, and he looks at you when you're not looking and there's a slight of affection in them🌼

- He offers to share the bath with you, with a glint in his eye and that velvety smooth tone of his. This makes you blush furiously and become shy, which eggs him on. It’s completely up to you though, heh, because this will in fact lead to the sex

- afterwards he may drag you over to the bed to sleep~~~ until you tell him you have dinner waiting for him, and he is a fucking s l u t for food after funky time ✨

- now here he definitely teases you. “you’re practically worshipping me, doll. how am I supposed to treat you now?” What we’re you expecting? but internally he’s bursting at the seams and he’s very touched. 💖Probably to the point where he’s uncomfortable and will either be very quiet (he has no idea what to say) or he’ll tease the shit out of you as a coping mechanism.

- he eats like a normal person unlike everyone else here (and maybe Vincent) going on about his day where you listen patiently with a smile on your face ☺️

- Then when in bed, with his back facing you, he’ll very quietly thank you for doing this for him, because Lord knows he needed it. He’s very thankful 💖

Vincent Sinclair

- all signs of responsiveness is cut. I mean, he’s the tiniest bit of smug if I’m raw honest. He was the golden child out of the two when he was younger and even if Bo is top dog in Ambrose, the feeling of deserving more than he does is still there. Which he DOES 😭💖

- He’s in absolutely no way like Bo. Bo is a smug ass who doesn’t listen to anyone (who we stan btw), but he’s still touched to the core.💖 You didn’t need to do this, you wanted to

- he knew he was worthy of being loved. He knew Bo wasn’t going to hold him down forever. he’s felt he needed this for the longest time. He wants to beat Bo; ~~~

- and when the prettiest, sweetest angel is at his feet pampering him, he just knows how jealous Bo is. 💘😭 Anyway SORRY I’m rambling~~ I feel like Vinny would be too scared to go into the bath himself and would have you sit on a stool beside him.

- he’ll be signing to you the entire time he’s in the bath~~ about anything and everything. He’s just so emotionally connected to you, he can’t help but spill his thoughts 🥺

- you both would eat your dinner in his room, probably on his bed as you share ideas about sculpting and life Bring a laptop so y’all can watch Netflix together ✨

- he’d want to make love to you after but that depends on how shy he’s feeling. It would probably be gentle and devoid of much lust, only love🥺💓

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Peeping through the stacks

Jason todd x reader

Valentine’s fic

Warning: smut

I recommend the book I mentioned if you like the classics.

“I have a proposition,” Jason said and your eyebrows rose. “Not that kind. We separate. I grab you a book and you get me one. And we meet up afterwards to go to dinner to see what we got. No cheating. No following each other around. Whoever gives the better gift, wins and gets to control the rest of the night.”

“Sounds like plan. Just know Todd,” you said moving up in his space standing on your tiptoe to talk in his ear. “I’m going to crush you.”

“Only if you win, baby. Only if you win,” he said with a smirk. He opened the door to the largest used bookstore in Gotham. 3 stories with a section of just records and another of old comics, it was heaven. They even had a coffee shop in the back of the second story. You went left and he went right.

You went straight for the classics. Jason would pour over old novels for hours and his favorite were clearly dog eared. You thought about replacing them but, while he’s appreciate it, it wasn’t exactly exciting. You milled around the area, looking at books that were nice but not it. As you moved to leave the area, a section caught your eyes.

If you love the classics but need a book written in the last 50 years:

This is what you needed. A careful list of books that you like next to new books was perfect. Jason had been reading his copy of Moby Dick and talking about the hubris of man recently, heavily alluding to Bruce. You grabbed the recommended book: In the Heart of the Sea.

Now to find Jason. You had agreed to no cheating but it wasn’t really cheating to just watch him if you had already picked. He was probably in your favorite area and you walked upstairs to watch down low.

Jason was holding two books in hand and looking between them both. You felt a thrill to watch him. He almost always caught you quickly but the store with multiple patrons and levels must have thrown him off a little. He finally grabbed a book and looked directly up at you with a smirk. You threw your fist playfully. He’s certainly caught you. You came downstairs with a grin.

“I knew you were watching me. That’s cheating,” he said. You held the book behind your back as you kissed his cheek.

“It’s not cheating if I didn’t change my book,” you protested and he kissed your forehead.

“Tell yourself that. Let’s check out and then I can win,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulder and walking to the counter. You both laid them down, face down because you’re competitive, and paid. You carried two separate bags and held hands as you walked down to a little cafe on the corner.

The place had the coolest vibes. Fresh coffee day and night, records and music memorabilia on the wall, and a band of musician played on a tiny stage every night. Valentine’s was no exception. You found a table in the back and promptly ordered your favorites from the menu.

“Okay. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” you said with a grin.

“I thought we’d wait until tonight to do that,” Jason said with a roguish wink. “Oh, you mean the books. Yeah, let’s swap.”

You gave him his bag and he yours. It almost looked like a drug deal if it wasn’t books. You pulled out the book. A continuation of a series you loved but had a hard time finding the next parts. Jason pulled out his and read the back.

“Okay, you won,” you said with a teasing scrunch of your face. “This is really great.”

“This looks great. But you did cheat too...” he said pretending to take his time deciding. “I guess I’ll take the win. But it was pretty close, I’m not going to lie.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

“Seriously, I can’t wait to bore you with more whaling facts.”

“I’m taking it back,” you said and he laughed. “I can’t learn anymore. I’m not kidding.” Jason’s eyes smiled too and you loved the sight. He looked happy. You food arrived and a folk band started playing.

As your food dwindled and it was fully dark outside, Jason’s gaze lingered on your body. His hand sat on your knee as you talked.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said randomly and you exhaled quickly with a shy smile as you looked away. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay,” you said, letting him pull you from the cafe and a few blocks down. Jason pulled you close and rubbed his nose against your cheek. You turned your head up to close the space between your lips. It started as soft, gentle, cute. But Jason gripped your hips and pulled you closer and you wrapped your arms around his neck and before you knew it, you were being pushed against a wall as he kissed down your throat. You made soft sounds as he nipped and kissed the sensitive skin.

“Jason,” you said breathlessly. He hummed against your skin. “Take me home. Take me home.”

You ran your hands along the muscles under his shirt as you rode behind him on the motorcycle. Jason insisted on helmets and you wished you could kiss at the back of his neck. Probably best. Your hands on his stomach were distracting enough.

Jason barely drove the bike into the parking garage of his building before pulling off his helmet and turning towards you. You did the same. Neither of you climbed off as you made out. His tongue slid in your mouth as his hands held the back of your skull in place. He reached behind him to turn it off as you kissed.

“Upstairs,” you breathed. He nodded before getting up and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed his neck as you walked towards the elevator. The knee high slit in your skirt had scooted up to expose most of your thigh. Luck was on your side as no one was around to watch but security must have gotten a great show with the pair of you aggressively kissing. Jason pressed your back against the wall in the elevator as you rode up to his floor.

He carried you down the hall. You were less lucky as your elderly neighbor was sitting in the end of the hallway as she always did everyday. She’d watch the sunset and people watch everyone coming home from work or school. She giggled and looked away. Jason put you down the second you both realized and you flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I was married once. Happy Valentine’s,” she said with a big smile looking out the window. Jason quickly pulled you in the apartment.

“I forgot about her,” he said. “Gross part is that she’s probably thinking about her dead husband and all the times he used to rail her.”

You glared at Jason. “That’s.... so gross. Why? Like you ruined it. Your dirty mouth.”

“I can get it a little dirtier,” he said with a wink but ruined by bursting into laughter. “Like do old people blow each other? Can their hips bend that much? I know their knees are bad. What age did they have to give them up?”

“Shut the fuck up. That’s so gross,” you said putting you hand over his mouth and he laughed before pulling you close.

“You look really pretty tonight. I forgot to tell you because I kept staring at you,” he said with a soft look. He bent and kissed you sweetly. Not rushed or hard like earlier. He slowly pulled you to the bedroom. You pulled each other’s clothing off as you walked. Shirt here. Pants there.

“Thank you. You look good too,” you said as you pulled the bedroom door closed. Jason rolled his eyes. He never agreed with you but had given up on arguing.

Jason pulled you on top of him in bed. His nose ran up your throat until his lips met yours. He was slow and deliberate in his movement. His hands roamed your body as you moved your legs to straddle him. You didn’t bother teasing either of you but instead sunk down on him.

“Princess,” he breathed with closed eyes. You sat for just a moment, get used to him, before starting to move. You bent at the waist to give him long deep sloppy kisses. “Baby,” he pleaded before you started moving.

“Remember, I won,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” you asked with a grin. “What do you want, Jaybird?”

“This. Keep riding me. You look so good,” he said breathlessly. His hands gripped your hips as you bounced. He grimaced as you swirled your hips. “Fuck!”

“Oh we like that,” you commented. He chuckled distractedly. Jason pulled you down to where he could kiss and nip at your chest. You whined as he took your nipple in his mouth. He let go with a loud smack.

“Mmm someone seems to like that,” he quipped. You pressed yourself back towards his face and he chuckled against your skin before giving your breasts the attention you wanted.

“I love your Valentine’s gift. You’re so thoughtful,” you said breathlessly. Jason looked up at you confused.

“Yeah no problem. Is now the time?” He asked with his eyes half closed and mouth open as he breathed heavily. His hips jumped to meet yours and he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit. You moaned loudly and he smiled as he watched you come undone. He thrust your faster to finish with you. You both moved together jumpily as you buried your head in his neck. You breathed for a few second before softly kissing his lips.

“I seriously loved today,” you said.

“Yeah, I’m glad. Me too. Surprised that no one call-“ Jason started before his phone rang and he sighed. “At least we finished. I’ve got to take this,” he said and you rolled off and curled in the blanket. He answered the phone as he threw on boxer briefs. He looked at you wistfully as he talked. It sounded important.

“My source said Black Mask is getting a shipment early this morning so I’ve got to go. We can’t have those guns on the street,” Jason said after hanging up. He leaned over to give you a dizzying kiss. “I’ve got to go but here is your book and a glass of water. Don’t stay up. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“Be safe,” you said before he climbed out the window.

“Aren’t I always,” he said and you just knew he was grinning under the helmet before jumping from a 6 story window. No, you thought, no you aren’t.

#jason todd x reader #Jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut #batboy smut #valentine fic

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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years

Text

Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

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notepadsandtealeaves · 2 years

Text

Jason Todd x GN!Reader in: Movie Nights with the (Bat)Boys™ Pt. 3

12 Days of Batmas || Day 8—Watching Holiday Specials

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

↞ previous: firelight in gotham || decorating your home

|| ao3 version | 12 days m.list | batboys tag | main blog ||

|| dames day 8 | dick day 8 | tim day 8 ||

This man is all about getting cozy with you.

He’ll take any excuse to cuddle up with you—not that he actually needs one, of course—so naturally movie nights are right up his alley.

The most wonderful time of the year just got even better…

↠ Requested By: No one, technically ((but given the fact that I’ve been working on this series since last year I’m sure you’re all ready for me to wrap this ish up lmao)) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ so if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs/TWs: Brief talk of a handsy Jay; slightly suggestive, but nothing to write home about, really. ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ↠ Total WC: 700~

So there’s no ficlets this time around folks. sorry about it but I just couldn’t come up with anything sadly. But! They’re pretty lengthy (they’re all 700+ words) so that’s something ig. Anyways, that’s enough rambling from me—have at it and (hopefully) enjoy!

Headcanon || WC: 700~

🌟 This man is all about getting cozy with you.

He’ll take any excuse to cuddle up with you—not that he actually needs one, of course—so naturally movie nights are right up his alley.

Warm, soft blankets, yummy snacks, and his boo all wrapped up in his arms while you veg out in front of the television? That’s prime date night material right there.

Loves to spoon during movie nights, doesn’t really care who’s wrapped around who, tho if you’re tinier than him he’s gonna tease you a bit if you wanna be the big spoon lol.

Lots of “My cute lil jetpack”s and “Can you even breath/see back there” and the like.

((but lbr—this boy loves having you hold him; tho he’ll rarely admit to this aloud, he won’t deny it if you say it))

🌟 Providing work hasn’t worn him out, he’s the type to stay up for the whole of things.

Even if you tip off he rarely follows suit, choosing instead to hold you tight and enjoy the feel of you in his arms, alive and well and safe.

If he does fall asleep he’s gonna be so sad! This was time that he was meant to spend with you, and he’s wasted it by sleeping.

Will promise to make it up to you, no matter how much you tell him that isn’t necessary, so just let him, okay? It’s as much for his sake as it is for yours.

🌟 V. much a commentator—esp. if the movie is one you’ve already seen before and-or he finds the plot to be overly ridiculous.

He’ll pull back if you want to watch the film in peace, but the minute those credits roll he’s gonna rip into it lol.

He’s v. indiscriminate with his critiques, has to be given his love for B-movies. There’s just something about the jank of those films that just does it for him; like were the creators actually trying to create something good, or were they self-aware? Either way he’s here for it.

🌟 He’s… also got a tendency to get a bit, let’s say handsy, if he finds the movie boring.

What? He’s gotta keep himself occupied somehow, and it’s not like he’s legit feeling you up from the start. Really it’s more of a caress that can easily turn into more if you give him the go ahead.

If that’s not the vibe he’s more than happy to keep it PG-13, much like I’m trying to do with these HCs lol.

🌟 As for what he likes to watch…

No matter the time of year, this is v. much a weekly thing for you, so he’s not too fussed about the lineup…

…Well so long as you don’t pull a Tim and try to marathon the Die Hard series lmao. They’re movies that take place during Christmas—that’s it, that’s all.

In a somewhat similar vein, he does consider Nightmare Before Christmas to be both a Christmas and a Halloween flick. This spicy take is not born from an actual strong opinion, btw, but rather from his love of trolling Damian lol.

There are a few standards that he’ll want to get at some point during your sessions; i.e. The Year Without a Santa Claus, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Home Alone. These films never fail to get him in the holiday spirit.

((and yes, he is well aware of the fact that you can make the same argument for Home Alone as you can for Die Hard, but he also doesn’t care lmao))

This is also one of the few times you’ll catch him singing without a hit of embarrassment or restraint. Unsurprising given that most Christmas movie soundtracks slap.

Ngl, he finds most of the newer Made for TV movies to be terrible, but at the same time the season just doesn’t feel complete without watching at least one cheesy holiday flick.

((his favorite is Holiday in Handcuffs, but tbh he loves anything with Melissa Joan Hart in it; he’s kinda had a thing for her ever since her Sabrina days lol))

🌟 Overall movie nights with Jay are just *chef’s kiss* 10/10—would highly recommend cuddling up with this giant teddy bear of a man while you binge.

🌟 Up Next: Day Nine || Kissing Under the Mistletoe ((check back tomorrow!!))

Taglist is open, but to 18+ users only.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol...

#((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys))#jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd headcanon #jason todd hc #jason todd imagine

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Getting The Family Together

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 12 of 13

Word Count: 1550

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You're in an amazingly good mood when you arrive home that evening after seeing Jason. Your other children, official and unofficial, notice along with your husband but none of them ask, assuming that the GCPD charity ball had just gone better than expected. It isn't until a few days after you had seen Jason that Bruce brings up your persistent good mood. You had successfully pulled him away from all of his work, yet again, just to cuddle him on the couch. You were in your usual spot on his lap with your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head when he brings it up, "what has you in such a good mood? I know you well enough that it wasn't the GCPD charity ball."

You lean your head back against his shoulder so you can look up at him, "well, I sure hope you would know that, Love. But whats different about my mood?" Your question is genuine in the moment, but the second after you ask it you realize of course you wouldn't be able to hide the fact that you were happy about seeing and holding your Jaybear in your arms once again.

"Well, since you left that evening you've been in a-" he pauses, wanting to choose the correct words since he knows if he were to say 'better mood' you would relentlessly bug him about it for the next week or so, "you've been in a good mood far too long for it to have just been due to you being tipsy from the party."

You laugh gently, "good catch," you say in reference to his pause, "you know me so well." You take a pause of your own, absentmindedly tilting your head to press a kiss to his jaw. "I saw Jason," you eventually answer and open your mouth to continue but get interrupted.

"I know, I won't ask you where he is," Bruce says as the both of you know he had been trying to track Jason down for months at this point. At first it had been to stop him but as soon as he learned it was Jason his motivation had changed to helping Jason get off the seemingly destructive path he was currently on. His arms tighten around you, "I'm glad you got to see him." His hand brushes your hair out of your face, "I know that you missed him."

You smile at the man holding you, grateful yet again for the many arguments you had gone through with him, convincing him that you weren't scared of the potential dangers. "I know you did too, eventually he'll be ready to come home again and we can have our family together once more."

You can do nothing but glare at the man standing in your face. He was ugly, before you had broken his nose with your fist and without the black eye that was quickly forming. In all honesty you were surprised that it had taken this long for you to get kidnapped for the second time in your life, the first time since officially meeting Bruce. "Now, you're going to behave yourself while we call your husband and get him to send us the ransom money if he wants to see you alive again."

"Okay," you respond as it takes everything in you to not just sit there and taunt the man. They had you duck-taped to a chair, preventing you from causing further damage to their faces. And sure maybe you should be acting scared but still your reaction to danger is to laugh in it's face, even if you know that as soon as that phone call was made you would be out of this place in the hour.

The brutish looking man growls in frustration and slaps you across the face before yelling at his friends to keep an eye on you while he makes a phone call.

Tears sting your eyes at the slap on the face but you bite your tongue and look at the other two men who were now standing in front of you. There were maybe 20 others scattered through the building, they had clearly thought all of this through, but were a little underprepared for the fact that every single hero or vigilante in the city would take your kidnapping personally.

The man who had slapped you comes back, bragging about how scared Bruce had sounded on the phone and how willingly he was ready to hand over the money he had demanded. He barely makes it back into the room, when there is a moment of static over their walkie-talkies and then as scream and some loud banging off in the distance.

"Ooh, that doesn't sound very good," you say, clenching your teeth in false sympathy for them. "You guys might want to get that checked out." You can see that the man wants to slap you again for your big mouth but there is another shout and he begins directing the men to group together to try and protect the merchandise.

Eventually, you notice him first, Jason sneaks into the room in his Redhood gear. You were a little surprised to see him out of everyone since there had not been a single gunshot fired and that was kind of his thing. It didn't take the men around you long to notice Jason, since he was moving through the open now.

As they approach Jason, after realizing he isn't shooting everyone on sight, the men's confidence gets shattered as an actual child jumps from the rafters and knocks 3 of them down in one go. They begin firing their guns, shooting at anything that moves. You see their recklessness and know you should get out of there since as soon as they realize they're outmatched they're going to threaten you in the hopes of gaining an advantage.

You unsteadily stand, still duck-taped to the chair, and begin to waddle towards the nearest doorway. You get interrupted by your oldest son catching you, "hey, need some help?" Dick asks, clearly teasing you for this predicament you had gotten into.

"No thanks, Nightwing, I've heard that it improves your running speed if you're tied to a chair."

You see the flash of a smile cross his face as he just cuts the tape and helps you out of it. He then goes to help you out of the room but you stop him and say, "I can manage, you help your brothers."

You can see him hesitate for a moment before going with it, you then take off towards the door, only to be interrupted once again, but this time by the man who had slapped you, pointing his gun in your face. Your three sons who had come to your rescue, clearly trying to keep some sort of secret identities by the fact that everyone wasn't here, are all busy in the moment. You stop short at the sight of the gun, but once again you're impulsive, kicking the man square in the balls before bolting to the door.

You make it to the door and pull it open, stepping through it just for a shooting pain to go through your thigh. It's as you fall to the ground that you hear the gunshot and realize that the bastard had shot you. You do what you can to close the door behind you, just in time since another bullet hits the door. You then scoot across the grimy floor, to a spot where you can hide since you won't be moving far, and look at the blood trail you had left. You take a breath and collect your thoughts, remembering the sports bra you had worn and ripping your shirt off for a makeshift bandage/tourniquet for your leg.

You get it wrapped well enough to stop some of the bleeding and begin putting pressure on the wound, despite the fact that doing so nearly caused you to black out. Not long after that the fighting in the other room stops and Jason is the first one through the closed door.

"Mama?" He takes the hood off as he lands on his knees beside you.

"I'm fine," you say, motherly instinct taking over and you wanting to protect him despite the fact that he had just taken out at least 7 guys on his own moments before.

"Bull," he says and moves your hands so that he can evaluate things, not that he didn't trust you knew what you were doing but knowing that your mind was probably a bit all over the place.

"I'm fine, enough, Jaybear," you say and lean your head against the wall behind you.

Hours later you're relaxing on the couch with Bruce and three of your boys, holding them all as well as you can with a leg cast. The bullet had fractured your femur so it made everything a bit more complicated but at least now you knew how it felt to be shot so you could write better descriptions in your books.

But it's as you're sitting there with Bruce, Dick, Tim and Damian that the doorbell rings and a few minutes later Alfred enters the room. You look up to see Jason standing beside him, "Hey."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #batfam #batfam x you #batfam x y/n #batfam x batmom #batfam x reader #Batman #batman x you #batmom #batmom reader #batman x batmom #batman x batmom!reader

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mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

past lives | epilogue

a/n: time to look forward. and back. this doesn’t feature a big time jump. I’m gonna make an ending so cheesy... I think I’ve left this story pretty open so that you can insert whatever you want / envision for yourself. Once again thank you all who kept up and read or who’s gonna binge read once this comes out! Love ya <3

You opened your front door and there they all were. Most importantly Alfred. You had to show the man you could cook and fend for yourself if need be. Even though others couldn’t say the same.

“Great you’re all here. Come in, I’ve got the table set up and everything.” you said.

They walk in one-by-one into your home. You were up last night tossing and turning because it really wasn’t much. They didn’t all live in the manor currently but they all had lived there previously.

You eyed Damian specifically, to see his reaction to your place. He hadn’t been inside of it yet. Only ever on the fire escape and even that needed some work. You watched as took one swift look around and nodded at you.

“It’s quaint.” he said.

“Did you just call me cheap or something?” you said.

“It was a compliment.”

“You hesitated.”

You wince as Alfred wrapped up your lower stomach. It was to help the swelling he said. You were sitting up on the bed in the guest bedroom.

“May I ask what caused such bruising.” he asks.

You look over at Bruce who’s out of his nighttime suit and is watching from across the room.

“A really big box.”

You see Tim leaning against the door archway, hands behind his back. Bruce was Batman and Damian was Robin. That meant the Tim shaped Red Robin was Tim. He steps further into the room and reveals his hands.

He hands you two pills, “for the pain.”

You take them out of his hands and put them into your mouth. Then he hands you an opened water bottle. You take that and gulp down the pills, you have to tilt you head back a bit.

When you tilt it back forward you feel the hammering of the punches again. It makes you wince. Alfred had already did the best he could with your face. No stitches thankfully. But just bandages and ointments.

“So how long have you known I was his child?” you ask Tim.

He shrugs his shoulders, “After the gala before the lunch interview”

“You mean the set up to get my DNA.”

He winces when you say that.

“Tomatoe, tomato.”

Alfred lets you know that he’s done wrapping you and that you should lay down and try to get some rest. Which you don't argue with, you get the feeling that you don’t really argue with a man like him. He helps you pull your shirt down.

So you lean back slowly into the bed. You try to hold back the sounds of pain but one slips past your lips. This makes Tim and Bruce stand over your bed.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die from a couple beatings from Ra’s.” You say plainly.

And it hurts Bruce. Damian had told him that you were in the league years before. But he could tell the harsh treatment you suffered there stayed with you. You were able to take so many hits from Ra’s it was something he never wanted to witness in his life.

“Any normal person would.” Tim says.

Bruce looks over at him.

“Well after I came out the pit things changed.” You answer.

They both look at you then. You figured Damian told at least Bruce that you were brought back to life by the pit. Maybe he was leaving that to you to discuss.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Get some-” Bruce begins.

Then you hear the incoming footsteps to your new room. Sure enough Damian pops into view in the doorway. He wastes no time in running over to you, stopping short of hugging you once he sees the wrappings peeking through your newly acquired pajamas.

“Alfred says you’ll live.” he says.

You nod you head lightly, as to not start another headache before the ibuprofen kicks in.

“You got there right in time.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to you in the first place.”

“Wasn’t your fault, besides I can handle myself.”

“Obviously not look at your face.”

“I was in retirement. Cut me some slack.”

Bruce interrupts the impromptu match the both of you were having. Even though a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see the two of you interact more, since the both of you were family after all.

“Time to rest, say goodnight Damian.”

Damian takes another look over you.

“Goodnight.”

He walks out the door with his brother and father. And they shut the lights on their way out. You're thankful you get to shut your eyes for a bit. The homecoming Ra’s gave you was anything but sweet.

By morning time, you wake up to find Damian sleeping in a chair at the end of your bed. He has a blanket pulled over his form, from either Alfred or Bruce you take it.

“Thanks for offering to do the dishes with me. I know Alfred is probably losing it in there.” You said.

Bruce looked at you with a laugh, “Yeah.”

When you handed the last dish for him to dry and cut off the sink you didn’t make a move to leave the kitchen. You had some words to say to him now that everything was out in the open.

“I wanna be clear, that day when you hinted at the recorder being on and me hearing your conversation with the others, I wasn’t rejecting you.”

Bruce stopped drying the plate for a second. You saw him falter. He tried to pick up like it didn’t happen but you saw it. Instead of letting him continue you grabbed the plate from him.

He looked at you.

“You weren’t?”

You shake your head, “No. I think you're a great guy, from what I know at least. And you had to be or my mother wouldn’t have liked you. Nor would she had wanted me to find you.”

“About your mother-”

“We can talk about her another time. I’m talking about you Bruce Wayne. I wanted to let you know that I do wanna figure out this relationship. I couldn’t say anything before because there was things I was unsure of.”

He cleared his throat.

“Like me?”

“No I wasn't unsure of you. I was unsure of how you would react about me and my past. I was your secret child who had been murdered and brought back to life by a mercenary who trained me to kill. On top of that, I had unknowingly cared for your youngest son before either of us knew anything.” you said.

He nodded his head at your words.

“But I think I knew I was sure of you when you wanted to fake me out about the added information in your interview. When you let me walk away.” you said.

Bruce tried to hide a grin but he couldn’t do it, “I thought you rejected me that day.”

“I was trying to protect you. Before I knew who you were during the night time, that is.”

“So now that you know, how do we do this?” he asked.

You hold up on finger, “First, you will not send me money. I make enough as it is and I do not need more.”

“Maybe just a savings account then.”

“No, Bruce, no accounts. And no secret accounts either, I’ve heard from Alfred about your little set ups and such.”

“Sneaky.”

“I like him”

When you finally get to the dinning room in the morning everyone, sans Alfred, is waiting for you. You hold onto your wrapping as you take the open seat next to Damian and across from Jason.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for flirting with you before I knew you were family.” Jason says.

He doesn’t sound that sorry, which makes you look over at Damian. He’s got a proud smirk on his face. You face forward again.

“It’ll never happen again right Todd?” he asks.

Jason mumbles something indescribable.

Then the room is filled with a moment of silence. It’s not really awkward per say, but you think it’ because they all have so many questions they don’t know where to start.

“So you guys LARP every night?” you ask.

Tim busts out laughing along with Dick. Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a chuckle. Damian, who you can tell is looking at you like you’ve grown another head, isn’t laughing. Neither is Bruce. Like father, like son you guess.

“I think you’re gonna fit right in.” Dick says.

“Speaking of which, are you gonna live here now?” Damian asks point blank.

Bruce beings to apologize for him but you shake your head and let him know it’s alright.

“I’m going to remain at my own residence. If you wanna come over you know the way.”

Jason has a look of shock on his face and Damian stops him.

“Shut it Todd.”

A knock comes from your front door. It must be one of them, maybe they forgot something? You jog over to the door and open it.

Dick Grayson is in your doorway.

“Did you leave something here?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you're a part of the family. Honestly I’ve never seen Damian so calm before. And not his typical calm where he’s planning out every exit, this is different. It’s like he’s a normal kid.” he said.

You are speechless for a moment.

“Thank you for letting me know, Dick.” you smiled.

“Gotta get going, a flight to catch.”

You nodded you head, “Jason said you were in between red-heads. Do I wanna know what that means?”

He chuckled.

“I’ll let you know when I visit again, gotta go meet Wally.” he said.

Then he left with a simple wave. You could tell he wanted to hug you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries you might’ve had. In all honesty you would’ve hugged him back. You can see a bit of him in Damian and you’re thankful.

You closed the door and turned the lock.

As the rest of the boys cleared out, Bruce slid over your phone. The new one that you thought you had dropped on the sidewalk when you were taken. You reach for it and it’s totally fine.

You look up at him.

“Thanks, how did you get this?”

“Nyssa.”

Her name makes you still. She was never going to contact you after that night. Whatever friendship the two of your had was over. It was going to be hard to come to terms with but you’d have to make do.

But why did Nyssa have your phone?

“But this was on the ground last time I checked.” you asks.

“We saw on cctv, she picked it up while you were being put into the van. She had it on her the whole time, she’s the reason we were able to find you. Nyssa turned it on and it pinged a tower.” he answers.

Maybe it would be the last thing she ever did for you. Saving your life. You didn’t know what to think about her actions. It all felt like a past life or something.

You turn it on and see that you have unread messages and unanswered calls. Spanning days.

“How do I have all of this on my phone?” “I might’ve asked a favor from Killer Croc. It’s just the SIM card don't worry.”

“You mean Batman asked Killer Croc to find my phone?”

“He told me it wasn’t that far from where you dropped it, outside of your building.”

“What I’m hearing is you and Killer Croc talk one-on-one.”

About fifteen minutes later, after Dick returned, there was a knock you were expecting. It came from your fire escape. You hurried your way into your room and drew up the blinds. There he was.

You slid open the window.

“Hurry up and get in, it’s fuckin cold out there and I’ve got nothing on.” you said.

He climbed through the window and stood toe to toe with you.

“I can see that. Nice tank top.” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You know I can just kick you out of my home you horny bastard.”

“Oh but then we couldn’t all the fun stuff.”

“That would indeed be the point Jason.”

He kissed the top of your head. Then he began to peel off his jacket. The same one that he wore to the gala when you first met. He looked just as good right now as he did that night. The cigarette smell might’ve added to that too. He placed it over the chair that sat in the corner of your room near the window.

It was a quick, like lighting really, and you saw him move his eyes away but he looked at your scar below your collarbone. It stuck out like a sore thumb when you two weren’t rolling around in the dark.

But before you can say something to him, he speaks.

“I never told you this, but I think we must’ve ran into each other before all of this.” he says.

You tilt your head, “where would I run into you, Jason Todd?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in a past life or something.” he shrugs.

You watch as he walks past you, heading to the kitchen no doubt. Out of the both of you your fridge is the better choice for actual food and not takeout. You follow behind him, only up until your room’s doorway which you lean your body against. And you think to yourself, you have a couple of past lives now.

#dc x reader #Jason Todd x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Damian x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #redhood x reader #PAST LIVES

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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years

Text

you’re still here : s.r

spencer watched you die in his arms, believing you were gone forever. but when he learns the truth that you’re alive in london, he can’t help but wonder why you’ve hidden away for so long. (2.4k)

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(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

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Salem, Oregon

“No, no, no Y/n, please,” Spencer pleads as he holds you close, his arms wrapped around you as your body becomes weaker by the passing second. “please don’t go,” His cries intensify as his arms shake, watching as your eyes begin to close. “no, please.”

“I’m sorry,” You manage to whisper as tears fall from Spencer’s eyes, the last sight you ever saw as your eyes closed, and your head fell back.

“No,” Spencer mutters, shaking you lightly. “no, you can’t be, no!” His cries turn to yells as Morgan approaches him slowly, resting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder as it shakes violently.

“Reid,” Morgan sighs, afraid to look down and see you lifeless in Spencer’s arms. “it’s over, I, I’m sorry.”

Looking over his shoulder, the rest of the team with solemn faces walk over and shield around Spencer whilst the police take care of Jason Lodgings; your murderer.

“Come on, Spence,” JJ speaks softly as she kneels beside Spencer as tears fill her eyes.

“I’m not leaving her.” Spencer states firmly, still not letting you go from his embrace.

“Reid,” Hotch calls out, his voice firm as he stands tall, watching as Lodgings walks away in handcuffs, glancing down with sorrow at the blood oozing from your cream jumper, dripping onto the wooden floorboards. “we have to go.” Hotch tells the team as they slowly rise to their feet, not wanting to start an argument with their superior.

Closing his eyes, Spencer releases a shaky breath as he gently lowers you to the ground. He pushes your hair out from your face and brushes his fingers across your cheek for the last time.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Spencer whispers to you as he stands up and turns around, ignoring JJ’s open arms and walks out.

London, England - Two years later

It was always going to catch up with you, this life was a mere facade for your sake to have a sense of normality, but normality was never something you wanted.

Nearly two years had passed by since they last saw you. You hadn’t seen Garcia flirting with Morgan, heard JJ talk about Henry with such joy or avoided the stern looks Hotch shot over when you joked with Rossi and Emily for two years. But the one thing you’ve missed more than anything was seeing Spencer smile. You missed everything about Spencer, but seeing his smile brought a sense of indescribable joy.

This was never going to last forever, and you knew that coming into the situation. Hotch and Emily helped you figure out what to do, where to go in order to keep you safe. But keeping you safe meant everyone believing you were dead in the eyes of Jason Lodgings and his team, otherwise, they’d kill your team, your family off one by one just to get to you.

Having experienced the trauma from Emily’s ‘death’ you knew this wasn’t going to be easy on the team. You were lying in Spencer’s arms, close to death as you heard him cry for you. Every part of your body screamed to react, to tell him you’d see him again soon. If only you could have, just to provide him with some sense of relief in the long term. Yet if you did, it would’ve ruined the entire plan.

Wandering through Hyde Park, you knew he was close by. Maybe he had seen you already and was too afraid to believe it. The last time you spoke to anyone you knew was a year ago in Paris with Emily.

* Paris, France - One year Ago *

“How are they all?” You question as she sits down opposite you, files in hand as she places them on the table.

“They’re healing,” She answers, sliding the files across as you grab your bag, putting them inside without any hesitation. “it’ll get easier, but they’ll always miss you.” Emily sighs knowingly. “That contains everything you’ll need to get to London and set up a life there. But please, don’t trust anyone easily, Y/n.” She warns you as you nod.

Rising to your feet, you shrug your bag back onto your shoulder as you look down to one of your oldest friends for the last time. “Thank you, Emily.” You smile to her, wishing you could say more.

“Stay safe, okay?” She tells you, unable to form more words as thousands hover behind her lips. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

With a nod, you turn on your heels and walk down the street, not daring to look back as you’ve got to carry on.

Exhaling deeply, you bury your hands further into your coat pockets. Autumn was approaching as the Summer nights came to an end. You can’t help but kick through the piles of leaves that line the pathways as children giggle with their parents behind you.

“Did you know after June 21st, the Summer Solstice the sun’s direct rays will begin to shift southward from the Tropic of Cancer toward Earth’s equator?” You can’t help but tense as you hear his voice, filled with pain behind you. “As a result, the summer days become shorter, but that isn’t noticeable for a few weeks until late August when we near Fall.”

With a heavy heart, you begin to turn around and face the one person you owe the most to.

Your eyes remain locked on his feet, an old pair of sneakers lined with dried mud. Slowly, you raise your gaze past his trousers and toward the knitted sweatshirt vest, one you remember vividly even after all this time. As your eyes reach his shoulders, you can see his hair is long again and you can’t help but want to reach out and run your fingers through it like you once did.

“Hi,” You breathe out, unable to meet his scared gaze. “hi, Spencer.” You mutter, tearing apart the tissue in your left pocket as your nerves spread through your system, igniting undiscovered anxieties about this situation.

Spencer remains silent, taking in the sight before him. He never thought he’d see you again, the last time he saw you he held your lifeless body in his arms as he cried for you to stay with him. Yet you’re here, in London, alive.

“Do you wanna sit down?” You motion to the nearest vacant bench, and Spencer walks alongside you without saying a word.

Sitting down beside him, the gap between you feels too big. You’re used to the times of sitting together on the jet, resting your head on his shoulder and drifting off peacefully.

“Been up to much whilst here?” You ask, unsure what else to say. You can see out of the corner of your eye he’s looking straight ahead at the squirrels scaling the trees like buildings in the city.

“Why?” Spencer breaks his silence, his voice firm with you which takes you back by surprise.

“I,” You pause, lowering your head in defeat as you stare at the faint scar on your hand from the initial knife wound that Jason struck you with. “I had no choice.” You admit, hearing the gunfire as you blink away the memory.

“Everyone has a choice, Y/n, always.” He reminds you and just hearing him say your name causes your heart to drop. “You could’ve told us, we would’ve kept you safe, you know I,” Spencer pauses as he exhales his frustration. “we could’ve protected you.”

“I know, Spence,” You mutter, now turning to look up at him for the first time. “but I couldn’t do it, Hotch and Emily assured everyone would be safer this way.” You try to explain as you see the pain that lines his eyes, the heartache held in his gaze as he focuses on you.

He looks older, still sleep-deprived, but there’s a hint of happiness in the lines that surround his lips. A reassurance that he does have good days, the one thing you wished he'd have since you left.

“So you just left knowing we thought you died in my arms? Do you have any idea how I felt?” He’s angry, and rightfully so. “I, I thought I meant more to you than that, Y/n.” His anger subsides as his voice softens, his defences down.

You can’t help but reach out as you look at your hand on top of his, not daring to move it as you study his reaction.

“You’re the most important person to me, Spencer.” You reason, feeling his hand take a hold of yours, resting it in his palm as he curls his fingers over your hand, refusing to let go. “That’s why I had to let you believe I was gone, as Lodgings’ team would know, they’d always know and you would be in danger because of me.”

Spencer shakes his head. “We would’ve found a way, we, we,” He stumbles over his words as you squeeze his hand.

“You think me faking my death was plan A, Spence?” You chuckle, noticing a faint smile crossing his lips. “That was plan Z, actually version 3 plan Z if we’re being specific.”

“Did you ever plan on coming back?” Spencer quietly questions as his words linger around you for a moment as you slip your hand out from his.

“What did Emily tell you, Spence?” You ask, looking up at him as you hide your hands in your coat pockets, picking at the tissue once more.

“Besides the fact you’re alive and in London?” He nervously chortles, catching you rolling your eyes playfully. “She said you were doing okay, and that you were safe here.”

“I am, with Lodgings’ team having been sentenced, I’m no longer a target to them. My life is my own again, I can finally carry on living it.” Looking up, you watch as pigeons fly overhead, swarming down on the chunks of bread left for the swans. “But I made an agreement with Hotch, I’d stay away for at least three years. Three years to ensure my safety and for Lodgings’ team to be dismantled and dealt with.”

“Three years.” Spencer repeats, and you nod along. “You’re not planning on coming home, are you?” Your silence answers his question without you needing to respond. “I understand, Y/n. Three years is a long time to be gone from us all, and people change.” He reasons to himself more than to you. “I, we all thought you were gone, and finding out you’re alive I,” His voice trails off as he clenches his jaw, fighting his emotions that have been pent up for so long.

“Spence,” You mumble his name as tears fall from his eyes. “I want to come home, I do. I just don’t know if it’s home anymore.”

“Home is where the heart is.” Spencer comments.

“Elvis Presley.” You chuckle, lifting your hand up as you wipe away his tears, feeling him tense momentarily from your touch.

“Please don’t go, Y/n.” Spencer whispers as he lifts his hand up, resting it on top of yours as you cup his cheek. “I want to be selfish, I don’t want to lose you again if I don’t have to.”

Tears glaze your eyes as Spencer scans your face for any uncertainty. “Six months, Spence.” The words are barely audible for anyone passing by, but you know he heard you.

“One hundred and eighty-two point five days.” He nods as you lower your hand from his cheek, but he still keeps his on top of yours. “Then you’ll come home?”

“I can’t promise, Spence.” You know lying would be useless with him, you were never the most confident liar around him. “But before I go, I just want to tell you something.”

“Anything.” Spencer responds in a heartbeat, his entire body facing you now as you lower your gaze and take a steady breath.

“When you held me in your arms as I was,” Even after all this time, you still struggle saying the word. “well, fading, there was one thing I couldn’t help but think as you pleaded for me to stay.”

Spencer edges closer, your thighs touching as the previous gap between you both on the bench is gone. “What was it?”

“I wanted to tell you how much I care for you, how much I love you. And I wanted to thank you for being there for me through everything.” Your eyes remain locked on his as you pour your heart out to him, knowing if you don’t say it now, you never will. “But I didn’t have enough life in me to say all that then.” You nervously laugh. “So I thought I’d say it now, as it’s still true. You are a wonderful person Spencer Reid.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as echoes of children's laughter surrounds you. And for the first time in years, you feel perfectly content.

“You know, Rossi once told me something,” Spencer speaks up, looking down at your hand as he brushes his thumb over the scar Jason caused. “scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going.”

“Wise words from a wise man.” You comment quietly as Spencer pauses.

“I know you have scars, Y/n. Externally and internally. But I’ll always be here, wherever you chose to be.” A small sweet smile lines Spencer’s lips as you focus on him, wishing there was so much more you could say. “And I’ll always love you, I’ll always miss you. But if I know you’re healing, then that is all that matters.” He lifts your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly before lowering it back to your lap, unaware of your heart-shattering in your chest.

“I’ll see you soon, Spence.” You tell him as he stands up, hands resting in his jacket pockets as he sways back and forth on his heels.

“One hundred and eighty-two point five days, Y/n.” He reminds you, and you can’t help but laugh and Spencer joins in too for a moment and everything feels okay again, just for a second. “I’ll be holding you to it.” He smiles to you one last time as he sees the glint in your eyes falter. “Bye Y/n.”

“Bye Spencer.” You wave to him as you turn around, walking down separate paths once more, unsure when you’ll next reunite.

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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 3 years

Text

Protect

For Maribat March day 18 theme protect

Master List

“DEAREST BIG BROTHER! I’M HOME!” A female shout came from the foyer of the manor.

Dick, Jason, Tim, Babs, Steph, and Cass were hanging out in one of the many rooms the manor held. Alfred had just walked in with a tray of drinks but froze at the sound of the voice.

“THE HECK!” Was shouted by the same voice followed by Damian’s voice shouting,

“WHO ARE YOU!?!?! HOW DID YOU GET IN!?!?!”

Alfred was out of the room in an instant. He was not sprinting but he might as well be with how fast he was walking. The batkids immediately followed after him.

They walked in on a sight none of them will ever forget. Literally, Jason had taken a picture. A strange woman who looked like a female, miniature version of Bruce had Damian’s precious katana and seemed to be taunting him with it.

“Miss Marinette!” Alfred called and got both the woman’s and Damian’s attention.

“Alfred!” The woman replied, running over and giving him a hug, katana still in her hand.

“Wait, Aunt Nettie?” Dick spoke up, walking over to the pair.

“Little Wing! Wow, you got so much bigger since the last time I saw you.” She responded, giving him a hug.

“Wait, wait, your Aunt Nettie?” Jason asked, crossing his arms.

“Aww, Little Blue Jay, you don’t remember me?” She shot back, crossing her arms as well.

“Blue Jay, why is that familiar?” Jason muttered to himself, not quietly enough since everyone heard him.

“Aunt Nettie, you only visited once when he was here.” Dick reminded her.

“Oh, well that will explain that. Also how many more kids did Bruce adopt? I thought it was only the 2 of you, the Drake kid, and his bio kid.” She questioned, motioning to each child she remembered.

“The only other kid he adopted is Cass, Steph and Babs are family friends.” Dick clarified.

“Babs, the first Batgirl correct?” She asked, turning to the girl in question. Everyone froze at that, this girl who was apparently Bruce’s sister knew who they were.

“It’s fine guys, she’s known since the beginning of his time as Batman.” Dick assured.

“Yep, speaking of my big brother, where is he?”

“Master Bruce is currently at a WE meeting, but he will be back in time for dinner.” Alfred answered for her.

“How come father never told us about you?” Damian voiced, glaring at her and looking like he wanted to attack her again. Probably because she still had his katana.

“I rarely visit nowadays and he’s probably still upset after last time.” Marinette smirked, like she had won some sort of battle. Noticing she still had his katana, she handed the blade back to Damian.

“Last time?” Tim hesitantly echoed.

“How about Miss Marinette shares the story in the living room? I can bring snacks.” Alfred offered, Marinette looked like she was about to say something but Alfred beat her to it, “You bond with your nieces and nephews, I will be fine.”

“Come on Marinette! You can tell them about how you helped train Bruce! Oh did you bring any kwamis with you?” Dick rambled, pulling Marinette with him into the room they were hanging out in before her appearance.

Once they were all seated Tim started the conversation, “So I’m not hallucinating, you are actually Bruce’s sister.”

“Yes, Bruce is 3 years older than me. I know that he is Batman and you guys are the bats and the birds.” She calmly responded.

“What did Dick mean by you helped train Bruce? And what is a Kwami?” Babs continued.

“Kwami are basically magical beings, kinda like gods, that are bound to jewels called miraculous. Since I’m the guardian I protect these jewels. I trained Bruce by helping my old mentor from Tibet train him.” Marinette explained.

“What happened last time? And why don’t you visit often?” Damian asked, carefully hidden curiosity in his eyes.

“Back in my first year of highschool, Bruce was very protective of me. Like very protective. No boy he didn’t approve of, which meant I could never talk to a single boy, could get within 10 feet of me without him present. Asking me out, out of the question. Pretty sure this one guy, Adam, wanted to ask me out but Bruce interrupted before he could. I never talked to him again after that. I got pretty tired of it so I signed up for the foreign exchange program and went to school in Paris.”

“Wait,” Steph interrupted, “Bruce was an overprotective brother?”

“One of the worst kinds. I’m sure if our parents were still alive he might’ve been worse than my dad.”

“What importance does this have to the questions?” Damian sneered, annoyed that he wasn’t getting any answers.

“Hold on I’m getting there. So anyways it was in my sophomore year of highschool at Paris that a supervillain attacked. He called himself Hawkmoth, he used the butterfly miraculous to transform people into his puppets by using their emotions against them. I didn’t think much of it since it didn’t concern me, my host family agreed thinking it wouldn’t last long. But when I got to my room there was a little box sitting on my desk and that’s where I found the ladybug miraculous. The most powerful miraculous besides the cat miraculous. I told Bruce, he wasn’t too happy about it, but there wasn’t much he could do. So much happened in that amount of time that I don’t think I could summarize it all before Bruce gets back but just know that in that span of time I met the current guardian. Hawkmoth gained an ally who used the peacock miraculous, Mayura. Also a miraculous that could manipulate emotions.

After I and my partner had defeated Hawkmoth and Mayura, sometime during my senior year, we revealed our identities, dated for a few months before I ended things. Then I went back home and Bruce was getting ready to go on his soul-searching journey to be trained by masters or whatever and I suggested he be trained by my mentor who was in Tibet. I went with him, we trained for a couple of months before he left. I decided to stay in Tibet to train to become the next guardian. Eventually my mentor died and gave me guardianship.

Then I returned to Gotham and Bruce had adopted Little Wing over there. So I stayed here for a while before I decided to go around the world doing guardian things. Bruce didn’t like the idea but there wasn’t much he could do. I ended up catching up with an old friend of mine on one of my travels and we started dating before I came back here. That’s when I met Little Blue Jay for the first and last time.

Before you guys had gone on patrol I tried to ask Bruce to give my boyfriend a chance but he didn’t agree. I’ve always been his little sister in his eyes, I think he couldn’t handle the fact I had grown up. Nasty words were exchanged between us and I haven’t returned since. In the end me and him didn’t work out but I couldn’t bring myself to return, until now at least.”

“Why now?” Damian immediately pressed once she finished her explanation.

“Dusuu was missing Alfred. It has been like a decade or something.” She remarked, pulling out a peacock shaped brooch.

“Didn’t you say that the peacock miraculous was evil?” Cass signed, raising an eyebrow at the brooch.

“No, I said it was used for evil. The miraculous are technically neutral, can be used for good or evil. Depends on who is wielding them.” Marinette bit back, as a flash of light emitted from the brooch. Suddenly a small floating peacock creature stood in front of Marinette.

“Is that a kwami?” Steph asked.

“Yes, this is Dusuu, the peacock kwami of emotions.”

“Hello! It’s so nice to meet you!” Dusuu chirped, “Where’s Alfred?”

“I am right here Dusuu. It is lovely to see you again.” Alfred spoke from the doorway, holding a tray of snacks and drinks.

“Alfred!” Dusuu cheered before flying over and hugging the older man.

“In all honesty Bruce doesn’t sound like the best brother.” Jason pointed out.

“I know it may seem like he’s a shitty brother, and at the time I totally thought he was and still is, but I know where he’s coming from. Bruce was always the more reserved and protective out of the 2 of us even before what happened to our parents. I think our parents' death solidified his need to protect me from anything and anyone. And we all know how horrible Bruce is at showing his emotions so I know his heart was in the right place. Plus, we’ve had years to cool off, I’m sure we can have a mature conversation now.” Marinette explained, a fond smile gracing her lips.

Faintly in the distance they heard Alfred say, “Welcome home, Master Bruce.”

“That’s my cue!” Marinette said before bolting off in the direction of the foyer.

“Alfred something’s off, what are you not telling me?” The second those words left his mouth a weight connected with his back, arms wrapped around his neck and a familiar,

“HEY BIG BRO!” Was registered by his ears.

The weight slipped off his back and as he turned around he was met with the familiar sight of his little sister. “Marinette.”

“Bruce.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“I thought-”

“That I was mad at you.”

“You didn’t visit for 10 years.”

“Life got busy.”

They stood in silence for a minute.

“I missed you.” Marinette whispered, so much different from the girl that was telling them a brief summary of her life. She seemed so much more vulnerable uttering those words than when she had revealed why she hadn’t come back in the first place.

Turns out that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as Bruce wrapped Marinette in a hug as tears slipped from his eyes. They could hear him whispering over and over again, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did all those years ago.”

It was weird for them all to see, including Dick who knew how much Marinette meant to Bruce. Bruce kept his emotions so closed up, master of the stoic face, but here he was breaking down in front of the all. Here he was crying and apologizing.

“I believe we should leave them alone for now.” Alfred spoke up heading for the dining room. They followed. Later Bruce and Marinette would join them, a little red-eyed with their cheeks tear-stained, but small smiles on their faces.

It was then that all the batkids knew that they would be seeing this ‘Aunt Nettie’ much more often.

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

Look at that, I’m super late again! Nothing new, I think day 14 was a one time thing unfortunately.

I’ve seen a ton of fics where Marinette was Bruce’s older sister but what about where she’s his younger sister? Bruce would so be an overprotective older brother.

I hoped you enjoyed this! I’m planning on making a part 2 of this for ‘contest’. So stay tuned!

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #protect #little sister marinette #big brother bruce #part 2 will be contest

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

What Happens In Vegas

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N so this was inspired by this post @theysayitscrazy

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Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

The moment you spun around, your eyes landed on the Blondie that was speaking to your future brother in law. You were confused, this week in Vegas was just for the wedding party, as one big bachelor and bachelorette party, yet you had never seen this guy, or a few of the guys before.

“Yo, sis!” You shouted, resting your arm over your older sister's shoulder. “Who is the fit Blondie taking to D?”

“That my dearest sister is his best man, and one of the lads that he used to be a team mate to.” She struggled.

“Okay, okay next question, why the fuck haven’t I met him before?” You asked, not taking your eyes off the God that was on the other side of the room.

“Because first of all you were married and secondly he has been around plenty of times since you have been crashing with us, but somebody has been too shut off to realise.” Jade shrugged, like it was nothing.

“Please don’t remind me of that asshole,” You snapped, “And sorry I’m trying to rebuild my life after he left me with nothing. But now big sister I need to meet this guy because holy fuck he is fine.”

“Oh god.” She laughed. “You are a nightmare!”

“Hey, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas right?” You grinned as she dragged you through the crowd.

As you got closer, you recognised one of them. The one and only Jason Hayes. Letting go of your sisters hand you ran into his open arms. You hadn’t seen him for years.

“Alright, trouble.” He laughed squeezing you tight. “I haven’t seen you for what feels like forever,” he shouted over the music.

“Yeah well you can thank that asshole for that,” You sighed.

“Wait, you aren’t wearing any rings?” Jase asked.

“He left me, took me for everything I had, took the business, the house, the car, everything.” You shrugged “Divorce finalised a couple of weeks ago.”

“And she’s been a nightmare ever since,” Danny laughed, pulling you into a hug.

“Dude, shut up and let me go through my hoe phase in peace!” You giggled, grabbing a shot from the centre of the table.

“Right I need to introduce you to some people.” Danny smirked at you.

“Urm, yeah you do!” You smirked, making him laugh.

“Okay well you know Jase, that’s Sonny, Ray, Eric and Clay” Danny said pointing at everyone.

Flashing them all a smile, you locked eyes with Clay, and instantly felt your heart starting to race, he was one hundred percent your type, and your mind instantly went to the gutter, as the dirty thoughts took over.

Everyone broke off in their groups and you gravitated towards Clay.

“I didn’t know Jade had a sister?” He grinned.

“Yeah, I’ve been crashing theirs for nearly a year now but to be fair I’ve been out a lot! Especially the last couple of weeks.” You laughed, “But it’s nice to get back to the old me.”

“How long were you married?” Clay asked.

“It was about six years, first year was good and then the rest was hell.” You sighed, “But that is a depressing story, so that’s all you are getting.” The music had now changed to more sensual stuff and you couldn’t help but smirk “Come on, we are dancing.”

“I don’t dance darling.” He laughed, bringing the beer bottle to his lips.

“Oh I’m sure I can change that!” You giggled, “Live a little Clay, we are in Vegas, who knows what could happen.”

“Fine but if I don’t have fun, I will make you pay.” He winked.

“I will hold you to that.” You smirked, linking your hand in his dragging him to the dance floor.

To say you had only met Clay a couple of hours ago, you felt like you had known him for years, the conversation flowed along with the alcohol, his touch set your skin on fire and there was definitely shameless flirting going on. And currently you were both in the middle of the dance floor, smashed out of your face, bodies pressed against each other, as his fingers caressed your cheeks. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours. And the moment they connected you knew you were fucked.

No one had made you feel, like he had with one kiss. He left you wanting more, wanting to get to know him, wanting to get him into bed. He sent your brain into a frenzy.

“Well that was unexpected!” You breathed, as he rested his forehead against yours.

“You said it yourself, we are in Vegas, anything could happen!” He smirked.

You knew the next week of the trip would be absolute chaos, seen as it looked like you had a new partner on crime to cause trouble with.

The night passed, the drinks kept coming and everyone would be dealing with a nasty hangover in the morning, but you didn’t care. You were all living in the moment, without any thoughts. You and Clay were all over each other, either you were sitting on his lap when you were in the booth, or your hands were roaming over each other’s bodies. And all you could think about was him taking you back to his room and having his way with you.

“Oi trouble,” Danny said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you got another round of drinks in. “I see that look in your eyes, when you look at Clay.”

“And?” You giggled.

“Just be careful, okay,” he said kissing your head, “Clay is a good lad, but I know that your heart of yours is fragile at the moment.”

“Like I said D, let me live the hoe phase. You just worry about the wedding and let me worry about my heart okay.” You nodded.

“I wouldn’t be a good big brother if I didn’t look out for you,” he smiled.

The last call had been made and the final drink had been drunk, everyone was fucked, you couldn’t walk straight so was clinging to Clay, but he wasn’t any better than you so you couldn’t stop laughing as you made your way back to his hotel room. Seen as he still had a stocked mini bar, so the two of you were going to carry on the party.

But you stopped by your room to grab a pair of shorts and a vest top as you needed to get out of this dress and into something more comfortable. It didn’t take long to grab what you needed and get to Clay’s room

The moment you were alone, you tugged at the straps on your dress, shimmying out of the constricting material. Leaving you standing there in a push up bra and thong. Clay didn’t know where to look, the feeling on his eyes roaming your body made you weak at the knees.

“Like what you see baby?” You giggled stumbling over to him, somehow you managed to trip over, but Clay caught you just in time.

“I do,” he breathed, as he held you in his arms. “But I think we are both too drunk to do anything about it.”

“But,” you pouted, “I want you!”

“I know and I want you too, but you are a lot more drunk than me, so it’s not happening tonight though!” He whispered guiding you to the bed. “And honestly the amount of whiskey I’ve drank I don’t think I can get him up, no matter how hard I try!”

“Haha you have whiskey dick.” You giggled, reaching round to undo your bra. “I’m so sleepy,” you hummed.

“Wear this,” Clay laughed, tossing you one of his shirts, “then I think we best get some sleep, we have breakfast to attend in something like 3 hours.”

The sound of a phone going off, woke you up, along with the blazing sun streaming into the room.

“Turn it off” you groaned, snuggling further into Clay.

“It’s your phone,” he mumbled.

“Urgh” you sighed, slowly lifting your head off his chest to try and figure out where you had left the phone.

It didn’t take long to find it, and you couldn’t help roll your eyes as you saw the 20 missed calls off Jade and Danny. Just as the call ended it started ringing again with Danny’s face popping up on your screen.

“Thanks for waking me up!” You moaned, covering your eyes with your hand.

“Well you sound fucked,” he laughed.

“And you are annoying as hell Mr I Don’t Suffer From Hangovers,” you whisper shouted. “My head is pounding, can I go back to bed?”

“Nope! You and Clay are late for breakfast,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice. “Now get your ass down here in 10 minutes.”

“Asshole, you best have a large coffee and a fresh pack of smokes waiting for me!” You growled ending the call, looking back over at the bed you saw Clay had fallen back asleep. “Oi idiot, wake up,” you said, poking his cheek, “We got ten minutes to get downstairs.”

He didn’t say anything but groaned as he rolled out of bed, you couldn’t help but gulp as he stood there in a tight pair of boxers, hair all fluffy, just looking like a snack.

“You just gonna stand and stare, or you gonna get ready?” He teased.

“Urm yeah,” you mumbled, picking your shorts up of the floor, pulling them on before grabbing your bra and vest top disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were ready you walked out into the bedroom, rubbing your arms from the crisp morning air.

“Here, wear this,” Clay smiled, tossing you one of his zip up hoodies.

As you slipped it over your shoulders, the smell of his aftershave filled your nose, making you smile. You had known him less than 12 hours and he was making you feel like a teenager again, yep you were fucked.

Soon enough you had both joined the group at the table outside, before you even sat down Jade passed you a spare pair of sunglasses, with a smirk like she knew this would happen.

“Well you two look like a sight for sore eyes!” Danny laughed, looking between you and Clay.

“Shut up and give me the smokes!” You hissed, holding your palm out. The moment you had the smokes Jade linked her arm with yours dragging you to the smoking area.

“Right, tell me everything!” Jade squealed.

“Nothing happened,” you shrugged, “And please whisper!”

“Girl, come on. I have known you for years now, I saw how you were looking at each other last night.” She grinned, “And I know full well you ended up in his room and that is his hoodie.”

“Look we were far too drunk for anything to happen, I mean I wanted to but Clay put a stop to it because of how drunk I was.” You said, taking a long inhale of your smoke.

“I knew you would have a connection with him.” She beamed as you headed back to the table.

The moment you sat back down, Clay winked at you, making you feel giddy again.

“So I’ve heard love is in the air,” Danny smirked.

“Urm fuck love, just gimme the hot, rough sex!” You said, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I mean if you met the right person, maybe you could have both.” Clay said, keeping eye contact with you. The moment your brain caught up with what he said you choked on your coffee.

“I mean that person had to be really fucking special to make be believe in love again.” You shrugged, everyone else had gone back to whatever conversation they were having.

“If you are challenging me, then I’d say game on,” he smirked, leaning his head against his fists. “I know you felt the spark last night.”

“Let’s just see what happens this week,” you laughed, “And if I haven’t killed you then we shall see, but the sex better be damn hot boy.”

“I’m sure I can show you how hot it can get tonight!” He hummed, making you once again choke on your coffee.

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitshanksgirlxo @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace

#clay spenser #clay spenser x reader #clay spenser imagine #clay spenser oneshot #seal team #seal team x reader #seal team imagine #seal team oneshot

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years

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The Nightwing Suit

There are some absolutely incredible artists out here on tumblr, and seeing their fanart makes me cry tears of joy. Dick Grayson, one of my personal favs, is always a wonderful contender for fanart. His innate grace and agility and flexibility translate beautifully on the artistic spectrum. Bottom line: I love all the Nightwing fanart. However, there is something I want to address with his suit. I’ve been an aerialist ever since I was 7 years old, and I’ve taken gymnastics since I was 3. Now, I specialize in Lyra, while Dick obviously specializes in Trapeze, but when it comes to costume, we’ve got many very important similarities.

DON’TS

When it comes to aerial, we want as much mobility and flexibility as possible. So here are some things that absolutely will not be on his suit.

1. Shoulder Pads. I will scream it from the rooftops if I have to. The Nightwing suit WILL NOT have shoulder pads!! Red Hood? Definitely. Red Robin? Those shoulder pads are important for bo staff strength and support. Robin? Damian probably doesn’t need them, but they won’t hurt. Nightwing? No way. To me, one of the most important parts of my body when practicing and performing are my shoulders. They pull me into hangs and holds, let me rotate myself around, and basically support the rest of my body. This is partially due to user preference: I prefer arm-based stunts and hangs rather than leg based. But it honestly doesn’t matter that much. Nightwing will absolutely need 100% use of his shoulders. Him being able to freely rotate them can be the difference between life and death with his style of fighting. Shoulder pads will just hamper that flexibility. I will admit that shoulder pads look badass, but in this one hero’s scenario? Shouldr pads are a no-go.

2. Sleek Arm Braces. Nightwing, while being well recognized as a solo hero, does often work with a team. And on a team, he isn’t the type to huff angrily and say he can do this by himself. Emotionally? Yes, of course. Physically, and in a fight? He takes all the help he can get, with absolutely no would to his pride. When performing his flips and tricks and such, the other partner will grab hold of him by usually his hands or his arms. I’m just going to straight up say: catching someone by their hands is a Bad Idea. You will not believe the speed we travel when we go through the air, and catching by the hands will lead to dislocations and pain. For a few stunts it’s okay, mainly for the visual aspect of a performance. But when it’s life and death combat? Hands are a last ditch effort if you can’t catch someone by the arms. Because that’s what really counts. The forearms. When Dick is fighting with someone, and that other person has the strength to catch him/throw him from a drop or a flip, they will catch him by the forearms. If Dick’s wearing sleek ‘n sexy arm braces, he’s going to slip right out of their grip. I prefer to keep my forearms bare, but in regards to protective armor, the fabric around the arms better have a grip.

3. Extra Fabric. This one is a given. However, I want to get into the specifics. When you’re in the air, momentum is your most powerful ally, and if there’s anything opposing or hindering that momentum, that spells trouble. Extra fabric can sometimes be good, such as around the legs. Not too much, obviously, but wearing loose or baggy pants while fighting with Nightwing’s fighting style works (as long as you can, you know, actually fight in them and not trip over the extra cloth). Around the middle? Nuh-uh, nope. Anything looping around your waist, hips, or rib cage is a liability if it’s not skin tight. The belt that Robin often wears is okay, as long as it’s wrapped pretty tight around him and doesn’t move. For the kind of stunts that Dick pulls off on a daily basis? I don’t think anything but a skintight bodysuit will help. For arms, extra fabric is ~okay~ but not preferable. And anything strapped to his back, as long as it’s securely in place, will actually help his momentum (so his escrima sticks or any other weapon/item you want to put in there is fine). Nothing around the neck, at ALL. That one issue in Batman where Dick wears a scarf is hot as hell, and sort of makes sense because they’re in the desert. But on missions, at the speed Nightwing fights and flies through the air, anything around his neck will choke him. This entire section definitely wasn’t an excuse to say you should just keep Dick in a skintight outfit, nope, not at all.

4. Spandex. While we’re on the subject of skintight outfits, I just want to point something out that isn’t necessarily important or anything. It’s just a general preference for me. I prefer costumes with a little weight on them. The adrenaline rush is intense for some of my more advanced stunts, and those are things that I bet Dick would consider basic. I prefer something with a little substance/weight/texture to it. Nothing too serious, and nothing too restricting, just something to keep me grounded and focused. We all know how much Dick likes being in the air, but I’m willing to bet he also needs a little extra touch to keep his head in the game. So if you’re designing a serious Nightwing suit, not for crack or fun headcanons or anything, I would steer clear from the spandex, gauze, and showy-light-gossamer fabrics. They do provide extra mobility and flexibility, but that’s because they’re one drop away from naked.

5. Joints. Okay this may seem a little contradictory based on the last point, but around the joints, especially hips and shoulders, the protective padding needs to ease up. It’s one of the hardest areas on the body to injure, after all, even for a professional. And second, I know I’m sounding like I’m repeating the obvious, but flexibility is of utmost importance. If the fabric doesn’t bend with Nightwing, then there’s no point. It can’t chafe, it can’t grind against itself, it can’t break. The material around major joints needs to be malleable.

Dos

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about what you can absolutely add to Nightwing’s costume to give it either a little pizzazz, or just your own personal touch.

1. Boots. Yes yes yes, boots are an absolute must! And it’s not just me thinking thigh-high boots are cool. Coming out of a big drop and other major stunts requires rolling on your back and then onto your feet. But Nightwing doesn’t fight with the one-hit-and-done style. (That’s more Jason’s thing. He plants himself like a tree and puts power behind a punch, kinda like Bruce, which is why boots-especially boot soles- are important for them.) Nightwing gets in a punch and flips away, then bounces back and gets in a kick and flips away, then bounces back and gets in another kick and flips away. You see where I’m going with this. Dick is constantly on the move, constantly on the verge of flipping back. The main way he does this is with his feet: landing lightly on the balls of his feet to absorb momentum before using that to hit back. Boots with fricion-specific soles are important, he cannot slide or skid. Also, ones that go higher up aren’t bad either: extra support is always welcome. As long as they don’t cover his knees and allow for ankle flexibility, they’re good to go. They may even help stop ankle dislocation. Anything you want to add to the boots? Go ahead. As long as it’s not gauzy ribbon or something too extra, or something that can easily get caught in something else, it’s good to go. In my performances, I like to cover my shins with something, it can range from simple high socks or performance boots to go with my costume. I particularly like Damian’s long lace up boots, especially in Super Sons. It’s a cute outfit, and it won’t hinder his fighting at all. As long as Dick double knots, he can wear those, and any other variants of boots.

2. Gloves. I’m not actually sure if Dick has ever been called “Fingerstripes” in canon, but I’ve seen it in fanon plenty of times. Regardless, it’s one of my favorite nicknames for him, and it does have a basis. The stripes on his gloves are an awesome artistic choice, and useful too. Assuming they have a different texture than the rest of his gloves, those fingerstripes could help with grip. Grip is one of the most important tools an aerialist can have. I have had grown men look at me with shock when they shake my hand because of my firm grip (and the calluses, ugh). I firmly believe that Dick Grayson has one of the strongest grips in the DC non-meta world, and I bet you he surpasses even a good amount of metas. Having a good, no-slip grip is essential, even if you’re just swinging from the surface for a second, or if the surface is another partner’s hand. Gloves, once again as long as they’re not too restricting, would be awesome with helping with that.

3. Wrist Braces. I said before that Dick can’t have arm braces because of the whole partner-grip thing. But with the amount of force and pressure Dick exerts on his hands on a daily basis, dislocations and sprains should be as common as a bruise. Hell, I’m sitting here typing this and my left wrist is sprained. Fanfic writers, here’s a helpful tip: you can write Dick with a sprained or dislocated or just a plain sore wrist anytime at all, and having him rub his hands with a grimace, rubbing lotion onto them, or doing wrist exercises in his free time is a go-to for if you need anything filler. Or, you know, it could even be part of the plot. Wrist braces help with this, they keep the joints in place and add a little extra stability to his movements. As long as they’re not interfering with wrist mobility, wrist braces are a very very good idea. When you think how long, think about the length of Peter Parker’s handmade web shooters. Long enough to be there, but not immediately noticeable. Also, make sure the material is something cloth, wrap, or gauze based. Anything too hard could scrape against the skin, cause cuts and bruises, and even cut off circulation. Unless it’s armor, it’s not comfortable or easy to do aerial maneuvers with.

4. Back Harness. To be honest, I have no idea what the official name for this piece of equipment even is. But the thing that holds Nightwing’s escrima sticks to his back. The thing that holds Deadpool’s katanas (in the movies, not the comics). The back-strap-harness thingy. That’s a go-for-it when it comes to costumes. Not only does it look badass and hot when it’s on your costume and you draw your weapons from it seamlessly like a boss, it’s practical and doesn’t interfere with your fighting at all. As I said, a majority of Nightwing’s moves rely on momentum. The back harness thingy won’t harm that at all. As long as it’s strapped to your back, unmoving and steady, it stays out of the way and may actually help you with your momentum. Drawing weapons from it is easy and seamless, and one of the quickest moves you can perfect, aside from drawing your weapon from thigh/calf holsters. But as I said before, Dick would probably stick to the back because, once again, momentum.

Okay this got much longer than I thought it would. But regardless, I hope this helps if you’re ever drawing or writing about the Nightwing suit and need specifics. Or hell, if you’re a cosplayer and need some information on how to make an accurate costume, here you go. Now I need to take a breather and chill, because while I considered myself a pretty recreational comic reader and not much of an analyzer, I had no idea how much I picked up about Dick’s individual fighting style and how that fits in with my own aerial experiences.

#i have no idea what to tag this #suit analysis???#superhero costume dos and dont's??#nightwing #dick grayson #meta #dc #nightwing meta #dick grayson meta #dc meta #nightwing suit #river thinks too hard

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

The maid

Part 2

Warning: attempted mugging, guns, briefly blood.

You might have worked in one of the nicest homes in all of Gotham, but your own place was much more modest. It was on the edge of the bad areas of Gotham but not quite labeled as unsafe. But then again, it’s Gotham. Is there a safe place here?

A second story walk up that had a fairly nice view of the park. If you stood in the left corner and stared just right. Okay, it was just fine but you were proud of your first roommate-free place. The Waynes paid well.

You had just gone to the grocery store and was queen of only-one-trip. So your arms were currently full. They might have been a little too full as you tried to pull out your key to the front door. You leaned a bag with your hip against the brownstone and tried to yank your key ring from your pocket. You had a distinct feeling that you weren’t alone. This made your hands shake a little and you tried harder to get at your key.

You weren’t alone.

There was approximately 2 people watching you. A mugger on the corner. His last 40 ounce drink of malt liquor was starting to wear off and he had a pounding headache from cursing out the mother of his children. How dare she try to force the brats on him on a Saturday night? He needed a few bucks because he was out of beer and he needed a cigarette. You looked like a perfect target.

The second was someone who could be even more dangerous. In black tactical pants, a black shirt with a red bat symbol, brown leather jacket, and a shiny red helmet, the Red Hood could easily be described as intimidating. And he was watching you. He’d been watching you for over a week.

Famous on the news, he had taken over part of Gotham’s underground and shook up other parts. He was known for shooting anyone who attacked children, women, or in any sexual way. If they were lucky, it was just in the kneecap. Currently Batman’s number one who-the-fuck-is-that-guy and a high priority. Was he a vigilante or a villain? All Batman knew was that the Red Hood was shaking everything up and targeting his Robin.

If it wasn’t for the bulletproof fabric that Alfred had just added to Robin’s costume, Tim Drake would be 6 feet under. As it was, he was out of commission for 2 weeks healing bruised ribs.

Red Hood watched you passively. Were you going to be fast enough to get inside before the mugger? He’d hate to have to save you. He would. You were a valuable commodity to him. You were the new maid for the Wayne Manor. If there was any way in, it was through you. The most likely weak link in security.

You dropped your keys and cursed quietly. It wasn’t quiet enough as it seemed to call the mugger to you. He started walking towards you. A box cutter in his pocket was pulled out and he yelled at you to stop. You made a sound that was somewhere between a yelp and a whimper and bent quickly to scoop up your keys. Items from your bag fell out in your haste.

Red Hood pulled out one of his backup guns. It was loaded with rubber bullets, one of the few non-lethal weapons he had. The man was almost on top of you before Jason pulled the trigger. The thug fell before he even touched you. You shrieked and looked around. You saw a flash of red on a roof top before it left. You hurried to open your door. Once in your apartment, you locked the door and put a chair in front of the door.

Over the next week, you had a really difficult time staying on task as you were barely sleeping. But seeing a certain member of the household had you hiding a smile as you worked.

You really did try to avoid Mr Timothy Drake-Wayne but he seemed to always walk down the hall that you were working in. You had long since laundered and returned his shirt. He would flash you the tiniest of smiles before continuing on his way. He was 3 years younger than you but somehow seemed worlds older.

One day you were helping Alfred cut up fruit in the kitchen. It was a calming task in the quiet room. A big plate of apples and oranges was quickly dispatched into slices.

“Hi,” Tim said suddenly beside you causing you to look up mid slice and jump.

“Shit,” you said holding your finger. You grabbed a paper towel and wrapped it up.

“I’m sorry! Is it bad?” Tim said. You held your finger over the sink to look at the cut. Blood welled quickly but it didn’t look super deep or long.

“It’s okay. It’s not too bad,” you told him. Tim dug in a drawer and pulled out a bandaid.

“Here, let me see your hand,” he said. He held your finger as he wrapped the bandage around it. You looked at his long dark eyelashes and small pieces of shiny black hair that fell in his eyes. He was certainly pretty.

“All better,” Tim said dropping your hand. You flushed at his closeness.

“Thanks,” you said looking at him. “Your shoulder, What happened?”

Tim had a large rectangular bandage over his left shoulder and you noticed a bruise under his right eye. He smiled awkwardly before gulping.

“I’ve been taking Brazilian Jui Jitsu classes and had a bit of the accident. I’m fine. Just a nasty bruise,” he said, glossing it over. “Probably should have stuck to CrossFit.”

“Maybe. Looks painful,” you said. You moved over to continue cutting fruit.

“You’re being careful when you go home, right?” He said suddenly. You looked at him confused.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just that there’s a new guy out there. Someone called the Red Hood. He’s been seen all over the city. Nobody really knows anything about him. I just- we just want to make sure you’re safe. We can provide a you with a ride home,” Tim suggested.

Yes you had heard about him. Killed drug dealers and rapists. He delivered a bag of heads to a crime family, rumors said. He had even attacked Batman and Robin a few times. Red Hood sounded terrifying. But you should be fine since you had nothing to do with any of Gotham’s underworld.

“I should be fine. But thank you, Mr Wayne,” you answered.

“Call me Tim. It wouldn’t be a hassle at all-“

“I’m fine. Thank you,” you said with finality. He nodded.

“Understood. I must get back to work. Sorry about your hand.”

“It’s okay.”

———————————

On one of your days off you decided to hit a used bookstore that was just down the road from your apartment. It was a cute little hidden gem. Books haphazardly piled on shelves to the ceiling. Tiny little rooms connected in a maze for each genre.

The bookstore was usually pretty empty and was the kinda place where you could sit and read on one of the hidden plush chairs they hide in various corners of the store. You could buy a cup of coffee from the front and spend an hour looking and reading. It was a pretty cozy place.

The prices were pretty cheap and after checking out your favorite section, you had a little stacks in one arm. In the other hand, you had a fresh iced coffee. You walked toward your favorite hidden chair in the back classics section. As you turned the corner, your coffee almost smashed into a body that quickly caught your hand and preventing the spill.

“Sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he said. You got a look of him. Tall and extremely fit. Wavy black hair and blue eyes with a little apologetic smile on his lips. He was hot as hell.

“It’s fine. I should have looked too,” you said and you both moved to the same side of the walkway. “Sorry,” you said with a smile.

“Nah, don’t be,” he said standing against the wall to let you slip by. “By the way,” he said as you squeezed past him. You stopped and looked at him.

“Can I ask your name?”

“Oh, sure,” you said before saying your name. He had a kind smile. Despite his large figure, his soft mannerisms and cozy sweater made him seem... safe.

“I’m Jason. That book in your hand is based on one of Shakespeare’s play. 12th Night. I saw a copy over here if you want to look at it,” he offered.

“Yeah, that’s interesting. You’re into classics?” You said. You watched as he reached up to grab the book from the top shelf. His sweater rose to show a strip of very tone skin.

“I’m kind of a sucker for them. The only problem is that they don’t really put out many new books,” Jason said with a shy smirk.

“That does sound like a problem,” you smiled back at him.

“I hope I’m not too forward, but can I have your number,” he asked playing with the spine of his book. You smiled and flushed. Did he really not know how hot he was? Because he acted like a nerd but looked like a snack.

“Yeah,” you said putting you number in his phone. “Then I can hit you up for more book recommendations.”

“I’d like that. I hate to go but I’ve got to get ready for work. That’s why I was in a hurry,” he admitted.

“I hope you aren’t late because of me.”

“Worth it. But I’ll be fine. See you around,” he said leaving.

“Yeah,” you called after him. Did you just give your number to an absolute 10? You had a little smile on your face for the rest of the afternoon.

#Tim drake x reader #Red Robin x reader #robin x reader #batboy x reader #the maid

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jacquihyde · 3 years

Text

Nighthawks

It’s a cold winter in Gotham, and the long nights provide a perfect backdrop for mysterious, dangerous occurrences on the campus of Gotham University. Tim Drake believes that the case will be open-and-shut, but combined with the weight of the secrets he is keeping from his family, his boyfriend, and himself, the skeletons in the university’s closet may succeed in drawing him too close.

Part 3: The Only Ones Left In The World

Bernard had his own room at Tim’s apartment, but he had fallen asleep in Tim’s own room the first night that he moved in and hadn’t gone back since. It had gotten to the point that Tim’s bed felt empty without him.

It was empty now. Bernard was at Gotham University studying while Tim continued to investigate the strange events occurring on campus. Scouring social media had told him that there had been a few more sightings of shadows, strange feelings, even apparitions. At least one person had ended up with a handprint mark like Mikaela’s somewhere on their body.

Tim put a hand to his own neck, imagining it. It was cold, but not frostbite cold. Not leave a lasting scar cold.

Tim spotted movement at the door and glanced up, seeing Bernard silhouetted in the yellow light spilling out of the hallway. “Hey,” he said.

“You’re home earlier than I thought,” Tim said.

Bernard groaned. “I could not do those readings anymore.” He flopped dramatically onto the bed, and Tim tried not to flinch. “What are you up to?”

Tim shuffled over slightly. “You remember the thing with Mikaela?”

Bernard nodded. “You’re looking into that?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Not getting much, though. Have you seen anything weird happening on campus?”

Bernard leaned back against the pillows. “Oh, there were some people LARPing The Princess Bride in front of the library when I was leaving. That was a little strange.”

Tim grinned. “Weird like supernatural weird.”

Bernard shrugged. “I mean, there’s always rumors,” he said. “Some people think there are secret tunnels under the school, but I think that pretty much every college has that rumor. And the frats can get kind of crazy with hazing, they’re always telling stories...oh, speaking of frats.”

“This can’t be good.”

Bernard laughed. “I got invited to an Omega Chi Omega party on Friday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Weren’t you telling me that Omega Chi Omega is kind of insane?”

“Yeah, and I want to experience it. Come on, it’s college. I like parties.” Bernard leaned closer to Tim. “And I like you.”

Tim sat up straighter. “You said it was rush week,” he said. “Are you pledging?”

“Fuck no,” Bernard said. “But I think it’s funny that I got invited to this party like they thought I was going to.” He shot a questioning glance at Tim’s laptop. “Hey, don’t you usually work downstairs?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m tired.”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “Are you?”

Tim was tired. Among other things. “Yes,” he said. He turned back to his laptop. “Um, do you -”

“Hey, what’s that on your shirt?”

Tim knew without having to look that he’d started bleeding again. “Oh,” he said, glancing down anyway. A steadily-growing spot of bright red had appeared on his side, standing out against his light gray shirt. “Um, I was stabbed.”

Bernard was staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, you were stabbed?”

“Lightly stabbed,” Tim said.

“Oh, lightly stabbed. That’s so much better.”

“It is, though!” Tim said. “It didn’t hit anything vital. I won’t even need stitches.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bernard said. “Where do you keep first aid kits, again? I know you have at least twelve stashed around here.”

Tim sighed. He knew when to give up. “There’s one under the bed.”

Bernard disappeared underneath the bed. “Take your shirt off,” he said, his voice muffled.

“As you wish,” Tim said. He heard Bernard laugh and couldn’t help but smile. It turned into a pained hiss as he twisted to remove his t-shirt.

“Shit,” Bernard said. “Here, let me…” Tim heard a thunk as he tossed the first aid kit onto the bed, then Bernard’s hands were on his skin, helping him take off the shirt. Tim could feel Bernard’s stare at the wound like it was another scar. “Did you even do anything to treat it?”

“I did!” Tim protested weakly.

“Like what? What did you do?”

“Waited for it to stop bleeding and then tried not to move,” Tim admitted.

Bernard glared at him. “Wrong answer.”

“I promise that it had stopped bleeding,” Tim said. “I don’t know what happened.” Bernard took out his phone, typing something. “What are you doing?” Tim asked.

“Googling how to treat a stab wound,” Bernard said.

“Wow,” Tim said. “I’m glad I’m in such safe hands.”

“Sorry that my neuroscience homework didn’t prepare me for treating my boyfriend’s ‘light stab wound’,” Bernard said. “Okay, so this is going to sting a bit.”

Tim braced himself, but still winced at the feeling of antiseptic against his skin. “It’s not that deep,” Bernard said. “And it’s pretty clean, considering...what you do. Who was it, anyway? It wasn’t…”

“It was not one of my brothers,” Tim affirmed. “We’re past that. Um, it was a gang fight that I got in the middle of. Red Hood went after them, B made me go home.”

“Good,” Bernard said. The cold of the antiseptic was gone, followed by mild pressure. “So you’ve been doing this for how long?” he asked, quieter this time.

“Since I was thirteen,” Tim said.

“Hm,” Bernard said. “And how many stab wounds have you had?”

His tone was humorous, but Bernard would have to be a stranger for Tim not to notice the darker tone lurking underneath his words. “Not too many, I promise,” Tim said.

“I think we might have different definitions of ‘not too many’.”

Bernard brushed his fingers against another scar on Tim’s abdomen, then another, then another. Tim caught his hand, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m okay,” he murmured.

Bernard finally finished applying the bandages and sat back up, his lips just a breath away from Tim’s. “I know you are,” he said softly.

Tim leaned in to kiss him, and they didn’t talk for a while after that.

Apparently Bernard was serious about the frat party. Tim didn’t quite believe him until they were on Gotham U’s campus, standing in front of a brightly lit house. Loud music and laughter spilled out of the open windows and door. It looked like something out of a bad movie. He turned to Bernard to tell him that when suddenly the door slammed open, two guys dashing outside. They stopped short upon seeing Bernard and Tim. “Bernard!” one yelled, then turned to his friend. “This is the guy I was telling you about. You know, my chem lab partner. Super cool.”

“Oh, you’re Bernard,” the other dude said. He was taller, a Gotham University cap sitting sideways on his head. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Chad.” Of course it is, Tim thought.

“Nice to meet you too. And nice seeing you, Zac,” Bernard said. “Um, this is my boyfriend Tim.”

Zac narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look really familiar.”

“Um,” Tim said.

“Holy shit, you’re Tim Drake-Wayne,” Chad interrupted. He looked over at Zac. “Did you know he was dating Tim Drake-Wayne?”

“Dude, no,” Zac said. “That’s so cool, bro.”

“Um, thanks,” Bernard said. “I think so too. I think we’re going to head inside -”

“Oh!” Chad said. “Before you go in, just make sure to steer clear of the basement. We’ve locked it up for a reason, you know?”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “...Okay,” he said. He took Tim’s hand and the two of them headed into the house. They almost immediately met crowds of people — sitting on the stairs, dancing in the living room, drinking in the kitchen. Bernard had told him that Omega Chi Omega threw some of the biggest parties on campus. Tim definitely believed him.

“They were interesting,” Tim said.

“Who, Zac and Chad?” Bernard said. “Yeah, sorry about them.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim said. “I’m glad I could boost your popularity.”

Bernard laughed. Tim glanced around at the students surrounding them. That could have been me, he thought. If he had never witnessed Dick’s parents’ deaths. If Jason had never gone to Ethiopia. If Tim hadn’t dropped out of Ivy Town U. If, if, if.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bernard asked.

Tim glanced over at him. To be heard, he would either have to yell or get a whisper’s breath away from Bernard. He much preferred the latter. “It’s kind of a lot,” he said.

He didn’t explain, but he didn’t need to. “Do you want to leave?" Bernard asked. "Because we can. It's no big deal.”

Tim shook his head. “No, just…” He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.

Bernard smiled. “Just focus on me, okay?”

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay.” He wanted to kiss him. It took him a moment to remember that that was something that he could do now, whenever he wanted. And so he did. He felt Bernard’s grin against his lips, his arms wrapping loosely around his neck. They were surrounded by people, and yet Tim felt like they were the only ones in the world.

“Tim?”

The illusion disappeared as instantly as it had taken shape. Tim was suddenly aware of the people surrounding him, the loud music and chatter. And there, standing behind him, was Steph. He couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want to see her face. But he knew exactly who she was, exactly where she was. It would be impossible for him not to.

Tim forced himself to turn around, and sure enough, there she was. He couldn’t read her expression. He could count on one hand the number of times that that had happened. The LED lights lining the room faded from blue to purple. Steph would like that, he thought dimly.

He realized that she was speaking and forced himself to tune back in. “...don’t think we’ve met,” she was saying to Bernard. Tim unconsciously found himself squeezing Bernard’s hand. He wasn’t sure of when he’d taken hold of it. Part of him wanted to let go, but the rest of him knew that he couldn’t.

Bernard squeezed back. “Um, I’m Bernard.”

Steph smiled slightly. “Oh, I remember Tim talking about you! I’m Stephanie.”

Bernard’s eyes widened. “You’re real? Back in high school I thought that Tim was making you up.”

Steph laughed, and Tim took advantage of her split second distraction to meet Bernard’s gaze. Tim wasn’t sure exactly what emotion was behind his own eyes — something along the lines of panic, probably — but Bernard got the hint. “Um, I’m going to go get drinks,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

Tim shook his head. Bernard squeezed his hand once more and then disappeared into the crowd. Tim turned to Steph, acutely aware of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He tried to remember some of the grounding techniques that Jaine had taught him. Five things he could see — the purple lights, the car passing by outside the window, the lock on the basement door…

“So are you going to talk, or should I?” Steph said.

Tim wrenched his attention back to her. “I don’t know what to say,” he said weakly.

Steph shrugged. “I can talk, if you want,” she offered.

“I’m sorry,” Tim blurted out.

Steph frowned. “You’re...sorry,” she repeated. “For what?”

“I…” Tim swallowed hard. “You know.”

“Tim.” Steph took a step closer to him. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad. Seriously.”

“I should have told you.”

Steph shook her head. “You didn’t have to. That was up to you.” She looked off in the direction that Bernard had gone. “I do remember you talking about him in high school, you know,” she said. “You always really liked him.”

“I didn’t know what it was that I was feeling,” Tim said. “I didn’t even register it until...until the whole cult thing.”

Steph let out a breath. “God, of course it was the cult thing. That’s exactly the kind of weird shit you would get into.”

Tim laughed. He could feel the weight sliding off his shoulders as Steph pulled him into a hug. “I did love you, you know,” he whispered. “I still do.”

She held onto him tighter. “I love you too.”

Tim leaned his head against her shoulder, opening his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the basement door behind her. The door was wide open, the padlock hanging uselessly from the doorknob. He barely had time to register it before the world went black.

He stumbled backwards, pulling away from Steph. She kept a hold on his arm amidst the screams from the other partygoers. “What the hell?” she yelled, her mouth close to his ear. “Did a fuse blow or something?”

Tim tried to scan the room, but his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted. “I don’t think…”

The LED lights flashed back on — blue, then purple, then pink. There was a shriek coming from somewhere to Tim’s left, not tinged with laughter or exhilaration as the earlier yells had been, but infused with terror. He didn’t have to say a word. Steph was already moving, pulling him with her.

The crowd had grown too thick to easily maneuver through, but the two of them were smaller enough than most of the frat boys that they could form a path. Even then, Tim could only catch fleeting glimpses of the body lying still on the ground, the guy's skin covered in frost and handprints. His eyes were open, but glazed over, unresponsive.

Tim had barely managed to process the image in front of him before he was hearing more screaming, this time from another corner of the room. He didn’t even have to look to know that there was another comatose body frozen on the floor.

He turned to Steph. “Get everyone out,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “What about you?”

“I need to check something out,” he said.

“So you’re going to go towards whatever’s causing this?” she said. “Tim Drake, you would be the first to die in a horror movie.”

“I know,” Tim said. Without another word he moved away, shoving through the crowd towards the basement door. Everyone was too distracted to notice him approaching the forbidden location. Some were still gathered around the bodies, but most had figured out that escape was their best option.

“Tim!”

Tim turned away from the door, and there was Bernard, barely visible through the fleeing crowds. He made eye contact with him, feeling the screaming, the running footsteps, the heat of the crowd surrounding them fade away. The only ones left in the world.

Tim stepped backwards, closing the basement door behind him. The last thing he saw was Bernard’s stricken face, a word that Tim never got to hear still hanging on his lips.

It was even darker in the basement. Windows lined the tops of the walls, letting the dim glow of the streetlights outside stream in. Tim kept a hand on the wall as he carefully navigated the stairs. It looked like the room hadn’t been renovated, or even cleaned, in decades. Tim could just barely make out the faded posters lining the room, and, surrounding them, the graffiti. It looked as if everyone who had ever been a part of Omega Chi Omega had signed these walls. Some deep-set instinct told Tim to stop touching them.

The only furniture was the shelves lining the walls. They were little more than worn-out planks of wood, looking as though they were going to give out at any moment. Most of them were unused, with only a few places throughout the room, seemingly random, having objects placed upon them. He approached the closest, a folded-up Gotham University Nighthawks jersey. He could just barely make out a name and a number — Rivers, 11. Amidst the scramble of words written on the wall, Tim could read one in particular, written deliberately above where the jersey was lying. “Logan Rivers, 2024,” he murmured aloud.

He made his way around the room, investigating each shelf. There was a black ring (David Choi, 2009), a faded and empty journal (Jamie Collins, 1978), a torn red tie (Alec Samuel, 1994). Tim wondered idly if it was some kind of hall of fame or something. It obviously wasn’t just anyone who got to leave an artifact down here.

At the far end of the room, there was a silver locket, so small and unassuming that Tim almost completely missed it. “Sam Kingston, 1985,” he read. His hand hovered above the locket, but he didn’t touch it. Something felt sacred about it, too personal for him to see.

There was a creak from the stairs, and Tim whirled around, his hand flying to his waist for a weapon that didn’t exist. One of the bros — Chad — was standing in the shadows engulfing the last stair. “Hey,” Tim said. “Sorry, I know you said not to come down here, but I got kind of pushed down in the whole chaos upstairs. I’ll leave.”

Chad said nothing, just continued to stare at him. Tim’s heart leaped into his throat. “Chad?”

Tim didn’t even see him move. One moment Chad was on the stairs, the next he was leaping at him, hands outstretched. Tim barely managed to leap aside, and even then, Chad was close enough for him to feel the cold wafting off of his skin. “Shit,” Tim whispered as Chad turned back around to face him. His skin had gone pale, and Tim could see the edges of a frost-encrusted handprint peering out of his collar. “Chad, this isn’t you.”

Chad charged him again. Tim drove him back with an elbow to the stomach, jumping out of the way of his hands. He had no clue how this thing spread, but he could tell that it wasn’t anything he wanted to take any chances on. It affects different people in different ways, he thought, shoving Chad back again. Chad’s back hit the shelves and he stumbled as the wood gave a dangerous creak. Mikaela was fine, just shaken. The people outside were knocked out. Chad… It was like he was possessed. He was faster than before. Much stronger than he should have been. And there was nothing, nothing at all, left behind his eyes.

Tim ran for the stairs. He knew that Chad was right behind him, but if he timed it right…

He vaulted over the railing. Chad was going too fast to stop himself and slammed right into it. Tim watched as he took one step, then two, then collapsed onto the ground, his soulless eyes slowly shutting.

Tim jumped down off of the stairs, approaching Chad as quietly as possible. The color was slowly returning to his skin, but the handprint still stood out, stark-white and frozen. He could see the fight going out of him. Hopefully, he would be back to normal, if a little disoriented, by the time he woke up.

Tim maneuvered out of one of the basement windows, just wide enough for him to fit through. Someone had called the cops, and the outside of the frat house was bathed in red and blue light. Tim slipped past the crowds onto the sidewalk, away from where the officers were roaming.

“Tim!”

He whirled around, and there was Bernard, getting to his feet from where he was sitting on the curb. Tim rushed over to him. “What the hell happened in there?” Bernard asked.

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It was like what happened to Mikaela, but on a whole other level.” He glanced around. “Where did Steph go?”

“She was talking to the cops, last I saw her,” Bernard said. His voice dropped lower. “You didn’t tell me that you dated Spoiler.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Bernard said. “I figured it out.”

Tim wished he could go back in time and tell his thirteen-year-old self all about the guy he would eventually end up dating. “Well. You were right,” he said.

Bernard laughed, but it seemed subdued. Tim reached out, grasping his hand again. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Bernard nodded. “Yeah. It’s just kind of hitting me that I’m dating a vigilante. When you went down to the basement...it kind of freaked me out. Same as when you got stabbed the other day. Not only because I don’t want you to get hurt, but because…” He stopped suddenly. “This is stupid.”

Tim shook his head. “No, what is it?”

Bernard sighed. “I’m just never going to really know that part of your life, am I?” Tim stared at him, and Bernard begrudgingly continued. “It’s like...you looked right at me after everything went crazy tonight. And you didn’t say anything, you just ran right into danger without saying a word. And the whole stabbing thing, you were going to hide that from me. And I get it. I really do. It’s just a lot to think about.”

Tim swallowed hard. “I’m…” he started to say.

Bernard cut him off. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said. “I’m not mad. It was just a weird night and everything’s kind of hitting me all at once.” He looked up over Tim’s head at the dispersing crowds behind them. “We should head home. I don’t want to get caught up in whatever happens here next.”

Tim couldn’t get Bernard’s words out of his head. He couldn’t tell what Bernard was thinking either, and it haunted him, running as a constant undercurrent in his mind. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and of course that someone ended up being Jaine.

“You have something to say,” she told him. She couldn’t even see his face — she was at her desk while Tim was turned away from her, giving Batman the axolotl bite-sized pieces of earthworm. “I can always tell with you.”

Tim nodded. “Something happened the other day,” he said, pushing past the reluctance. Batman finished the last piece of earthworm and turned to look at him with unblinking eyes. “That’s all I’ve got,” Tim told him. Batman, predictably, did not respond.

“Was it a Robin thing or a Tim Drake thing?” Jaine asked.

“Sort of both.” Tim sat back down. “Bernard and I were at this party…” He slowly told her about the Omega Chi Omega incident, from the moment that Steph caught him and Bernard to their conversation after Tim left the basement. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” he finished quietly, barely able to be heard over Batman’s filter bubbling.

Jaine nodded. “Do you feel guilty about it?”

“Maybe not guilty,” Tim said. “Except…” He sighed. “I want him to be a part of my life,” he said. “Every bit of it. Even the darker parts. But I don’t know how to do that.”

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” Jaine asked. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Both,” Tim said. “I think. I don’t really know how to define it. I’m just not used to opening up to people like that. Even if I want to, the words get stuck in my throat. And mixing that with what I’m letting him into…”

Jaine nodded. “It’s hard,” she said. “He knows Tim, and he knows Robin. But knowing both, that’s different.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Different. It feels like it shouldn’t be possible.”

“But you know that it is,” Jaine pointed out. “And he’d tell you that too.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That and a million other things.”

“So what are you going to tell him?” Jaine asked.

Tim thought about it, and then spoke.

At the end of the night, Robin was perched on his own windowsill, peering in through the window. Bernard was in the living room, typing something on his laptop. Light streamed in from the hallway behind him, making him look as if he was made of gold. Tim knocked on the window lightly and Bernard glanced up. He smiled slightly when he saw Tim outside, getting up to unlock the window.

“This is a surprise,” Bernard said as he slid the window open. “There’s a perfectly good entrance downstairs.”

“I needed to talk to you,” Tim said. “And I didn’t want to wait.” Bernard frowned, and Tim instantly felt guilty. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just about the other day at the party.”

“Oh,” Bernard said. “I told you, I’m not mad about it -”

“I know you’re not,” Tim said. “There are just some things that I want to say.”

Bernard nodded. “Okay,” he said. Tim was silent, and Bernard raised his eyebrows. “So are you going to talk, or…”

“I am, I just...ugh. I literally rehearsed this. Why is it so hard?”

“You rehearsed it?” Bernard repeated.

“I don’t want to get this wrong,” Tim said. “I’ve never done this before. Any of this.”

Bernard nodded. “Like, dating a guy?”

“Yes,” Tim said. “No. It’s not just about that. I’ve never dated someone who knows about every side of me who isn’t a vigilante themselves. And I want to say that that’s why I instinctively want to hide things from you. It’s not like the ‘because I love you’ thing -” He realized what he had said and cut himself off, his cheeks flushing bright red. Bernard stared at him, his mouth slightly open. Tim forced himself to keep talking. “That’s not what I want it to be like. But I do want to protect you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, not again, not ever. But that’s...that’s not the whole truth. I don’t really know how to open up. I’m trying to learn how, but it’s never been something that I’ve ever been good at, not ever. And you deserve better than that, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Bernard stepped closer to him. When he spoke, their lips almost brushed together. “You know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“I do know that,” Tim replied. “I’m just not great at making myself believe it.”

“You’re getting better,” Bernard said. “You’re talking to me now, right?” He reached up, his hands framing the sides of Tim’s face. “Can I?” he said. Tim nodded, and Bernard gently peeled the mask away from Tim’s eyes. He leaned forwards, their foreheads brushing together.

“What was that for?” Tim asked.

“I wanted to see you,” Bernard said. He moved just enough for their lips to brush together, then pulled away. “I love you too, you know,” he whispered.

Tim moved his hands up to cover Bernard’s. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

Bernard’s brows knit together. “For...”

Tim shook his head. There were so many things he wanted to say about Bernard, so many words that he could say, and yet his mind kept coming up blank. “Just for existing,” he finally said. It was the closest he could come to containing it all.

#dc comics #batfam #tim drake #bernard dowd #aj writes #fic rec

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