fairlyabookie

[fairlyabookie]

how does red hood love?

Jason Todd loves quietly, his eyes following your every move when he has you in his sights. The way he shifts his weight towards you, a ghost of a smile by his lips when he greets you. To him, you’re an angel on earth, a sight for sore eyes with your warmth and affection. He tries not to entertain the thought of keeping you all for himself - such a devilish thought was definitely out of question.

Rather, he sees you in his home - a silhouette idling on a soft couch, reading a book, your gaze elsewhere; an apron wrapped around your figure as you try to make heads or tails about a recipe, your lips thinning in contemplation as you try to ascertain a certain measurement; a faint warmth that lingered on his arms when you cling onto him for movie night, your expressions painting his nights with fondness.

He bears in mind your favorites, takes pictures of you in your elements, and often offers to help - even though you say you don’t need it. Of course, he eggs you for certain things - all the more to see you fluster and smile. If he thinks you’re not looking, his fingers would drift to yours, gently lacing your hands together - a reminder that you’re with him.

Jason Todd loves quietly, treasuring your touch and presence in ways that he’ll remember.

[fairlyabookie]

how does nightwing love?

Dick loves loudly; his eyes light up when he sees you come in the room, welcoming your presence with hugs and a warm smile, quick to make sure you’re comfortable. He keeps his eyes on you, his smile lingering a second longer when he thinks you’re not looking.

When you’re feeling down, his presence is enough to let you know that he is there for you. A warm hand wrapping around yours, his ocean blue eyes an anchor. His whispers, poetry of his love.

Quiet moments would be spent cuddling; his fingers tracing every itch of your being, his eyes drinking in your very silhouette. Your voice, music to his ears, captivates him in an inescapable spell. He finds himself bound to you, completely at your mercy in the game of love. Dick lost count of the times he says “I love you”, but he wants you to echo those thoughts, to mean those very words every time he confesses his love - to have those very words dug out from the depths of your heart until your love was spent on him.

Dick loves loudly, for his love is endless, and lingering.

[fairlyabookie]

Together

Author's note: guess who is binging on TWST main story again? so fun...

Content: one shot | fluff | solo date picnic turned into a date with Rook!

Pearly white clouds trudge along a horizon of purest blue, the sun peeping in between voluminous thickets. Birds trill among themselves, their tones merging into a song of springtime wonder. Such ambiance brought delight to Rook’s ears - music to describe the very scene he was going to witness.

Ah, if only he could immortalize this scene forever - how the wind came in at perfect timing, teasing your locks in flattering angles, how your lips gently curled to a smile, your eyes drifting to the surrounding beauty. Rook’s heart soared - truly, he witnessed something great, something he could remember for years - this very embodiment of beauty, the sheer display of grace. Alas, he mustn’t delay for long: after partaking such a view, he had to return to the dorm and do his due diligence as Dorm Head - besides, Vil wouldn’t have him hear the end of it if he were to be out too long.

“Rook?”

Rook freezes, his heart beating a mile a minute against his chest. There was no way you could’ve noticed him - he made sure to hide himself well. He ventures a step, testing this little theory.

“Rook, I can see you.”

“Oh, whatever do you mean, my precious?”

The giddiness evident in his voice, Rook lets his gaze land back on your silhouette. Your eyes, resplendent with an unforgettable shade, lock onto the space where you suspect he must be, the feather plume an obvious sign.

“I can see your hat from the bushes.”

Oh la la, they got me!

“You continue to impress me, mon tresor. I cannot believe you saw right through me as I go through my daily walk.”

“I’m sure a daily walk doesn’t involve you sneaking in the bushes in the middle of the day, Rook.”

Your lips curl to a smile of amusement.

“You got me there, my dear.”

Rook slinks out of his hiding spot, his feather plume quivering oh-so-slighty.

“Why not join in the fun? I have snacks and tea for a picnic.”

“A picnic, you say? Why, all by yourself, my dear?”

Rook’s smile turns to an expression of incredulity.

“What’s wrong about having a solo date?”

His blonde bob shakes feverishly.

“Non, non! That won't do! Allow me, the Chaser of Love, to accompany you to this picnic. That way, it would be a date with the two of us!”

Heat rushes up to your cheeks at this revelation, any words of protest lost in the void of your thoughts.

“Thanks, Rook.”

You chuckle lightly, embarrassment lingering in your smile as you pat an empty spot next to you.

“Please help yourself. I’ve made snacks and tea for a lovely day like this.”

“Why, thank you! I shall enjoy your love to the fullest.”

The urge to bury oneself was quite strong - that or taking Rook’s hat and shoving it to his face. You avert your gaze elsewhere, anywhere but Rook’s frustratingly handsome and ecstatic presence.

“Stop saying such embarrassing stuff. Just enjoy yourself.”

“Will do.”

Rook responds with a lighthearted chuckle, already making himself comfortable with his bearings. Under a clear blue sky, hues of verdant surround two silhouettes, excitable voices carrying along the wind’s whims.

[fairlyabookie]

One's Troubles

Content: fluff | can be read as romantic or platonic | Deuce x reader

So much for being an honor student, Deuce lets out a heavy sigh, a gloved head ruffling his black locks as he shuffles into the Heartslabyul dorm. The topsy-turvy interior of the Heartslabyul dorm was a sight for sore eyes - a chorus of voices greeted the first year back to the dorm. He fathoms a familiar voice in the cacophony: a cheery Cater with his obnoxious phone case.

“Deucey-”

The ginger’s expression melts into concern as soon as he places a hand on the younger’s shoulder.

“Whoa, you look rough.”

As timing would have it, both Riddle and Trey come forth - both wearing concerned expressions.

“Please tell me this isn’t from a magic duel.”

Trey laments. No words were needed - Deuce winces. He’d have to face getting collared by Riddle or write down a 500-word apology essay later.

“It was my fault.”

Such an apology came softly from Deuce’s lips, his gaze elsewhere. A thin line appears on Riddle’s lips, his demeanor steeling to that of the Red Queen.

“First, the infirmary. We’ll attend to your punishment later.”

The first year lets out a sigh, relief washing over him.

Thank you, Riddle,. He had more time to mentally steel himself for his punishment later.

“Alright, Deuce. Let’s go, we’ll have the nurse take a look at you.”

“Hold it!”

An earnest voice rings out from the crowd. Startled, the others peer back.

“I can take him to the nurse!”

The two third years exchange a glance; Cater sparing a second to wink at Trey before nodding to Riddle. Trey and Riddle take a moment before moving out of the way.

“Of course, he’s all yours, [Reader].”

With a spring in their step, they lock arms with Deuce as both students embark on the journey to the nurse.

~

“Please don’t tell me you got another fight on campus.”

[Reader] comments, their focus on the patches of red and purple on their classmate’s face.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks.”

Deuce shirks from [Reader]’s gaze, the response doesn’t go unnoticed by them as they perk an eyebrow.

“Oh really? What happens if I touch it?”

Just as [Reader]’s finger was hovering over a little bruise on his cheek. He grimaces once more.

“Yeah, that fight was not worth it.”

“Shut up…”

His cheeks burn scarlet, his features contorting to a mask of pain. [Reader] gauges the work in front of them - a multitude of bruises all over his handsome features, followed by a wounded ego. If Crowley were to hear from this, he would have Deuce expelled for sure. They let that fact linger in the depths of their mind; for now, Deuce needed some attention.

“You okay though, Deuce?”

“I’m doing fine. Thanks, [Reader].”

There was the sheepish expression again, certainly an adorable one when he knew he was in the wrong, yet was quite aware of the consequences that followed. Words weren’t needed between the two students when Deuce felt a profound warmth envelop him in an embrace. A sensation he hadn’t felt in a while - yet, it was the perfect antidote for his troubles. He doesn’t let a thought pass, only the warmth of this moment to quell his troubles at the moment.

[fairlyabookie]

Praise

author's note: did ya'll miss me? Sorry for the long hiatus, everyone! I've been MIA this month due to finals, additional classes, and a brief trip out of town. Have yourself a pomefiore drabble!

content: fluff | drabble

“Potato, do me a favor.”

The cadence of Vil’s voice snaps your attention back to reality. Blonde locks tinged with the faintest shade of lavender, pale violet eyes that saw nothing but perfection.

“Yes, Vil?”

You shake off remnants of fatigue, the pathetic excuse of a nap barely enough to satiate your daily quota for slumber. Such a gesture merited a frown from Vil - you tense up, anticipating a scolding.

A gentle hand on the shoulder startles you from your stupor.

“I will have Rook give you an emergency packet before bed. But first,”

You perk up upon the pause. A smirk ghosts over the third year’s lips.

“I will ask of you to aid Epel for the next scene. Do you think you can do a good job for me, potato?”

“Of course, Vil. Will I anticipate a promotion from Potato to a fancy nickname?”

The teasing remark earns a ruffling from Vil, his demeanor cool and beautiful as always.

“If you do well beyond my expectations, now go. I will see to your performance if you deserve such an upgrade.”

With a spring in your step, you don’t let your smile falter as you join your classmate into the fray.

*I will show you my best, Vil!”

The smile only widens on Vil’s lips. I don’t doubt it. He stipulates to himself, already averting his attention to the production at hand.

“Everyone, get into positions! We must be perfect for this film production. Rook, make yourself useful and prepare refreshments after filming!”

“Oui, Roi du Poison.”

As Vil pivots his heels, a flurry of indigo and scarlet bellow in his wake, a conundrum of voices and fabric blending into a chaotic scene.

[fairlyabookie]

Feelings, what feelings?

Author's note: A double post! Enjoy!

content: how the boys feel after a certain moment... a little angst :>

Azul Ashengrotto→ A crush

The second year felt something amiss, an uncomfortable sensation lingering in his heart. One would best describe it as a heartache, but to Azul, it was something that felt wrong. He suspects a forgotten activity in his daily activity, reviewing his routine for anything amiss.

His mind clicks onto an interaction: one he had with you not too long ago. He recalls a slight cheeriness with your words, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. What was he talking about to you? Azul had to think harder to recall.

He tells himself to focus, but to no avail, his thoughts were a mess. His eyes drift elsewhere, to the inky scribble, numbers, and the familiar heterochromatic eyes of gold and ash. Something wasn’t right; the void manifested into a widening gap, an immediate pause, a missed presence.

He dismisses such feelings, burying himself in work, any memory of you repressed in the depths of his mind - your laughter, your inside jokes, everything, he sealed away - the bitterness of your missing presence already getting to him. He grovels in between summoning you to accompany him while he works and not disturbing you from your work. No matter, he takes a breath, resetting his mind to reinstate the cold and calculating mastermind demeanor.

Jade Leech→ A breakup

At first, Jade thought this was a cruel joke, the response already coming to his lips. Yet, you already beat him to it, solidifying your thoughts with a saying that he knew he couldn’t simply counter. You were completely serious, the weight of your words laying in thick, your presence even echoing the sentiment.

You watch his expression crumble, shifting from a handsome smile to one of crushing devastation. Where did this go wrong? Just moments ago, you were close to him, but now, it felt like he was valleys away from you, a formidable distance that stretched beyond his comprehension.

He musters a small smile to you, one that doesn’t seem to reach his eyes; with a bleeding heart, he embraces the pain, pathetically throwing himself to Floyd and Azul for a moment of respite. Out of desperation, he begins thinking of ways to get back to you, scheming along with Floyd to ask for your hand once more, not only as a man but as a better partner. He’d swear he’d get back to you - even if it would be a futile attempt.

Over time, the pain of such a moment would soon come to pass. As a final gesture for your relationship together, Jade would extend an invitation for a private dinner at Mostro Lounge, just the two of you, where a discussion to close out your relationship would take place - would he use this as an excuse to take you back? Who knows?

Floyd Leech→ an argument

He lets the very words echo in his mind, the reality of all slowly sinking in. Rather than his jovial rhythm and dance was a sudden drop in temperature - eyes of crystallized amber and stormy clouds regard you in disdain, a gaze he doesn’t give too often out of consideration for the Octavinelle residents.

With a huff, he leaves, a pout forming on his lips. For a few days, he’d feign dramatic airs to get a ruse from you, but you didn’t even pay him the slightest attention. That alone was enough for him to escalate his act a little more - he’d call out to you, message you, and even wait for you after class just to talk to you.

His attempts to reach you wouldn’t make you look his way - he turns to Jade and Azul, who seem to have enough of Floyd’s antics - even the two had a few words to say about Floyd’s dog-like behavior. After a little discussion, Floyd was back to his normal self, or what Floyd and Azul define as normal.

A few days later, you catch Floyd working diligently, his irritation quite evident in his features. Just as you were about to call him, the Leech twin had already launched himself on you, his lanky figure clinging onto you like a koala. In came the sappy words, the poetic whines for a rekindled love, and a nuzzle on a neck - oh, Floyd was so dramatic after a petty argument.

[fairlyabookie]

happy maid day

Author's note: hiiiii, I'm alive! had to lock in for exams and we're now done with finals! happy mother's day + maid day! Please enjoy!

Vil Schoenheit

An offer was extended to Vil for a game collab, followed by a request to cosplay a character with a maid outfit. Such a request was outrageous for Vil, yet he had heard word from Idia and his colleagues that the game is quite famous, even infiltrating his feed on social media with ads.

Vil takes the time to do his research: looking up the wiki, reading up the description, studying the character design. Within a week, he had already started plans on making it - rest assured, he’d make sure to perfect this role, even if it meant embarrassing himself in a maid dress.

Maintaining his regiments was a plus, along with practicing his lines from the game. He’d consult with Idia, all the while swallowing his pride, to gloss over the nuances and refine the character as Idia saw fit. He’d run a test trial, extending an invitation to you and a handful of Pomefiore students - an exclusive showcase.

Exclamations come left and right from onlookers, star-struck from the display of eloquence and allure. Just like any other piece he had worn, Vil felt powerful, the fabric flowing along with him, bellowing with every step of the way. He catches your eyes, your features lighting up in wonder as you watch his every move. Needless to say, Vil had that kind of attraction regardless of attire. As the compliments came forth, so did the praise, showering him with affirmations and applause from you, Idia, and the Pomefiore students invited to witness the birth of a new Vil.

Riddle Rosehearts

Out of the many rules in Heartslabyul, one of them was one Riddle didn’t like to know about: one must don a maid dress while running around the Rose Gardens. Quite the humiliating rule, if he had to say so himself. He didn’t want to follow that particular rule, but since he was almost late for class, he had to abide - even Dorm Leaders had to follow them, no exceptions.

He embraces the reality, the dread, and the mundane of it all as he casts the spell - replacing his dorm uniform with a maid uniform. These rules are indeed something else, a voice in his head wallows as he recovers himself, picking up his skirts to break in a sprint - he’d make sure to change his clothes after he leaves the dorm.

Much to his dismay, he hears the cries of Heartslabyul residents in the dorm, cheering him on, even complimenting him in the dress. Heat creeps up the back of his neck and cheeks, the shame too great to even reprimand the students. He’d make a note to have Cater and Trey give them a good earful later.

“Lookin’ great, Dorm Leader!” “Whoa, was that Dorm Leader Riddle right now?” Riddle had to press on, hitching up the skirts of his dress so he wouldn’t trip; any more humiliation from this endeavor would mean endless gossip for everyone in the dorm. With quick steps, Riddle shifts his gaze elsewhere, hoping that he wasn’t late for his errand and fearful that he might trip on his skirts.

Idia Shroud

A maid dress would fix him or you, depending on the time of day. Sure, maid dresses are cute in fiction, but when he sees in real life, he is confused, frazzled, and stunned. The sight of you donning the iconic skirt and apron is enough for him to malfunction.

He’d be in the middle of his game, opening a maid-themed event when you surprise him with a platter of lunch and an energy drink, Ortho floating beside him. You recite a greeting, one that made his blood go cold.

Was this real life, or was this a twisted fantasy? He blinks once, twice, heck even pinches himself to make sure he isn’t seeing things - yep, it was real alright. He hesitates, a pale hand reaching out for the goods and mutters a soft thanks before retreating to his game - what the heck is going on?

Your smile, resplendent and radiant, was enough for him to shirk away from the sheer wattage that was your aura. His gaze lingers a second longer on the gacha banner, oh the forbidden apron and dress, of course, a little something to get some money in the system - wait a minute. Is that a maid dress he sees? Idia gives pause, his amber eyes shifting to your silhouette. He takes a second, his gaze going back and forth from the gacha banner and you. A second passes, the tips of his hair tinted pink.

“W-w-w-whoa, you’re actually cosplaying?!”

[fairlyabookie]

// twst jp spoilers

MY BOY

OMG

MY BOY

My boyyyyyyyuu

[fairlyabookie]

when you call him by a nickname

author's note: batboys x reader! enjoy!

“Guapito” [handsome] / Dick Grayson

You had a penchant for coming up with nicknames for everyone, from their contact names on your phone to the nicknames you had for them. One day, you’d let slip, as an endearment in your own way.

After a successful mission, you land on a peck on Dick’s cheek with a smile on your lips. The dimples bleed into a curious little smile of his.

“What does that supposed to mean, my love?”

The flirt rattled your heart, Dick’s inclinations for flirting with you after a mission always came unexpected. A devious smirk makes its way to your lips.

“I’m sure you sat through enough Spanish class to figure out that, Boy Wonder.”

You pat his cheek affectionately, watching his expression go from curiosity to understanding in a beat. At least his smirk returns, his hand closing in on your waist, his sky-blue eyes darkening to a shade of cerulean.

“I like that very much.”

You chuckle with his flirt, feeling a warm sensation blooming by your forehead.

“Amor” [love] / Jason Todd

You accidentally let slip an endearment to Jason that was only meant for no one other than yourself. Surely, the others wouldn’t catch it, right? You bite down your lip, waiting for a few seconds to pass on the coms before a voice crackles through.

“What was that, [Reader]? Did you say something?”

A part of you collapsed to the abyss as soon as you recognized the voice.

Please, please, please, let him forget it.

“I’m sure you meant me, right, love?”

The emphasis on 'love' was definitely a jab - he understood what you just said. You could certainly picture the smirk dancing on the boy’s lips.

“Shut up, Red Hood, we got a mission to do.”

”Righto, princess.”

“Starlight” / Tim Drake

You knew Tim wouldn’t like the cheesy nicknames, so you went for the more practical one - one not only connotate his brilliance but also his perfections and imperfections, something that would only mean him to your definition.

You send a message to him, leaving an emoji to where his name would be - a secret code you hoped he could decipher right away.

A text bubble appears, the dots flickering until it forms a text.

”Starlight? That’s new. Is that a new superhero name you came up with?”

No dice, that wasn’t what you were going for.

“No, you silly goof, you are Starlight, my starlight.”

Wow, that sounded better in your head. You fear for the worst, perhaps a tomato fest or just no response..

“Your starlight, I like it.”

A smiley emoji accompanies his response. You let go of a breath you were holding minutes prior, the tension leaving your body as soon as you saw his response. He liked it.

[fairlyabookie]

when study time is over

Author's note: a little fluff for those who are suffering from finals!!

Riddle Rosehearts

Silence reigns upon an expanse of polished cherrywood and floating books, the tell-tale scratches of pens scribbling on paper amidst whispered conversation slither in between the ranks of craned heads lowered in total concentration over books and blotched notes.

Riddle was quite fond of this atmosphere; the profound tranquility between students, their focus elsewhere save for the books in front of them, their writing hand scribbling what they can retain from their readings. Yet, study time also merited a collaborative effort: the opportunity to talk to each other about their findings, their interpretations of a certain topic they struggled with - another way to study, one that Riddle took a liking to for his residents to practice - what other way can the students achieve best grades if not by studying together?

Such a method didn’t cross his mind as he lays his eyes upon your profile, your eyebrows furrowed in utmost concentration. Amidst the sea of logical thought and measurements, just a glance was enough to cleanse his thoughts away - wait, what was he thinking about again?

He steals another glance at you, this time, morbidly curious if you did something to him. The second year chalks it off as coincidence - perhaps he lost his train of thought.

A flip of a page, a magical pen writes upon parchment, and the flow of words and logic come back to mind - formulas and theories piecing back together in one coherent thought.

“Riddle.”

A soft utter from your lips reaches his ears.

“Yes?”

He quells any semblance of giddiness in his voice, looking up to you once more. A dazzling smile lists upon your lips, one that threw his heart asunder. Why did he bother to ask you to study with him in the first place? He curses his past self - where did he exactly work up the courage?

“Let’s take a break, shall we? My brain is overloaded with the studying we’ve been doing.”

“Ah, that’s right,”

He glances over the grandfather clock from the corner of his eye. Whoa, it should be that time now.

“Well, we can end this here, [Reader]. I believe it’s time for croquet.”

“We mustn’t be late for that, can’t we?”

The both of you tidy up your books and prepare to return to the dorm.

“Indeed.”

Yet, before you can carry your burden of books, Riddle has already beat you to it; with a couple of taps of his magical pen, the books trail behind him, leaving you burdenless.

“Riddle, I could handle that, you know~”

“I’ve read from a book that a gentleman must help a lady at all times. I can’t have you hoisting our study material, [Reader]. We must be in proper form when we play today.”

You scoff, feeling a retort bubble by your lips.

“Sure, Dorm Head Rosehearts. By the way, I think you weren’t studying in the library.. What’s up?”

Oh, Riddle was certainly hoping you weren’t going to ask him. His pale complexion turns rosy red.

“That’s none of your concern.”

He quickens his pace, already anticipating the barrage of teases from you. The second year would rather die than admit that he had a huge crush on you, even so using the opportunity to study together as a means to get closer to you.

“Aww, Riddle. If you had trouble with an assignment, you should’ve said so~ There is no trouble in asking.”

A smirk as wicked as Cheshire’s widens on your lips.

“It’s fine, [Reader]. No need to trouble yourself with me. I was concentrating that whole time.”

Riddle wished he hadn't asked Trey and Cater for trivial dating advice.

“Oh really? Were you trying to tell me something, dear Riddle?”

That endearment almost made him trip.

“No! No! Of course not!”

He bristles. The familiar sight of the Rose Gardens close in onto the two. Riddle could fathom a crowd of Heartslabyul residents gathering around for the occasion. With that, the boy recovers some fraction of his dignity, his demeanor returning to the stern dorm leader everyone had known.

“Come now, [Reader]. We’re already late. Another word, and it’ll be off with your head!”

The threat was cute, you had to point out, yet you refrain from voicing out your thoughts as the both of you step into the rose-red gardens of the dorm.

[fairlyabookie]

when he gets jealous over a polaroid..

author's note: dc comics x reader coming through!

content: first romantic relationship | fluff

Dick isn’t shy about showing his love to you, his hand wrapping around your waist when he sees you, a nickname laced with honeylike sweetness to your ears. You often fluster, heat crawling up your cheeks, quietly welcoming his embrace as you continue on your moment. His warmth felt like home after a long day, warm and assuring that everything was okay.

You, on the other hand, reciprocate his love differently: a hug or a lingering touch before you depart for the day. As many would say that actions speak louder than words, Dick knew this was a way you expressed your affection to him - albeit being your first partner ever.

Yet, impatience crept up in him like vines, his touch lingering on your frame for a second or two longer for your attention, his eyes bearing onto you as if wanting to speak with you. Alas, you gave him an oblivious smile, blissfully unaware of his dilemma, until he found his answer.

You kept Polaroid of the dates you two went together, planting a kiss on Dick’s godlike smile before moving on to other things. This was your little ritual before a long day of work; one day, DIck stumbled upon you doing this ritual, placing a kiss on his polaroid self before you disembarked for work. Needless to say, he felt a little jealous.

“Oh sweetheart, you know you can kiss the real deal, you know?” A smirk tugs at the Boy Wonder’s lips, his dimples deepening. You jolt from your stupor, immediately wanting to bury yourself six feet under. Did he really see all of that? Your partner itches closer to you, his presence already entrapping you. “Well? Can my angel bless ‘me’ with a kiss before work?” The tease was just enough for you to feel heat rush up your cheeks. Indeed, the polaroid of your boyfriend was already eye candy enough, but the real deal was before you, by far handsome even up close. You shove away your embarrassment, standing up on your tiptoes to bestow what Dick wanted most this whole time: a proper kiss on the cheek.

[fairlyabookie]

type of love he values

Sebek

the way Sebek expresses his love is quiet: his grand gestures to help you, his pesters to ensure your good health, the flustered look he gives you when you catch him staring, an abashed remark or two when he averts his gaze. A lingering touch of the hand or a brief glance in your direction where you aren’t looking. These quiet moments are ones he cherishes most, your presence magnifying and captivating. Every passing second fills him with a resolve to do better, to do whatever he can to ensure the love between the two of you still remains.

Epel

From stolen kisses hidden behind a book or two, soft giggles under your breath when an unsuspecting classmate comes by after an inside joke, or moments together under the stars after a long day of class, Epel relishes in these moments, slipping in a tease or two to rile you up - an uncharacteristic move to do from him. He would tell these moments to his family members, beaming with pride and love as he tells about the love of his life.

Jack

Jack wouldn’t openly admit it, but he loves it when you check in with him, your eager expression coming into full view. The way you gently coax him to relax, a gentle hand brushing his tail and fur. He’d sit, arms crossed and leg crossed while you brush his tail, the sensation addicting yet well needed after a long day. Here, Jack would be under your care, spoiled beyond belief until you were done with a satisfied Jack.

Deuce

Deuce would sneak a moment to hold your hand, feeling your warmth before letting go- when he does, he hesitates, his fingers brushing against yours. You’d feel his warmth for a beat or two - feeling a little mischievous, you’d squeeze his hand, letting him relish this moment before returning to decorum. Deuce would so remember the sensation of your warmth for the rest of his life, and he’d crave it so.

Ace

A dazed Ace would come to you, staring into your eyes with a love-stricken expression. He’d say nothing, save for a noncommittal grunt. You suspect something along the lines of endless pages of homework and assignments from the Dorm Leader - a tease brimming on your lips, yet you let Ace watch you until he had his fill.

author's note: little blurbs I had with the first years! stay tuned for more!

[fairlyabookie]

The things you do that got them heads over heels (part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | last part!!

author's note: woohooo!! We have finally made it to the last part! I hope you all enjoyed this little compilation! I'd like to thank my recent brainrot for helping me write this much!!

Trey - baking w/ him

A sugary sweet aroma clings onto the both of you like a vice, films of powder dusting your noses as giggles flitter about in the kitchen. Strong hands, calloused yet gentle ones, cover yours, kneading away malleable dough, the muscles of Trey’s arms flexing at the right places. Just watching him felt scandalous, your ears burning up profoundly.

You asked him once upon a time if you could join him in his baking sessions - his personal time, as a means to spend more time with him. Sure, an innocent question, but one laced with intent; you had to know what was behind those delectable goods of his creation. To answer your question, he replies with a simple smile, a grin too wide to be considered cordial acceptance.

There you were, his broad frame hovering over yours, his warmth embracing you from behind. You fathom a grin from him, a tease at the ready when you falter from your kneading. Surely, Trey was distracting you terribly so, that he had moved to the next step: shaping the dough.

“Put some strength on it, [Reader]. You got this.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath brushing your ear. Heat rushes up to your cheeks, your thoughts melting to puddy when his hands cups on yours, the essence of vanilla not really helping with your rationale.

Cater- hanging out with him

Maybe you enchanted him - or maybe cursed him, to have him so memorized towards you. The way you latch onto him, guiding him to the very place he came across on MagiCam. His heart soars, taking flight to a sensation he wasn’t too familiar with. Exhilarated, he latches onto you, letting himself go to the whims of your adventures.

He may know the trendiest places out there, but letting you take the lead became an adventure. Selfies, pictures, and polaroids were a must - tangibles symbolizing your adventures together, places you went, and things you did, all encapsulated into one picture; tangible items Cater would surely cherish from the bottom of his heart. At the end of the day, he’d find himself looking back at the things he did, all with someone who he could call a friend.

In moments, Cater’s vanity was littered full of treasures, precious moments of smiles upon smiles, idle moments captured in a sweet second of bliss, where a social media post couldn’t seem to describe the magic of the moment. You truly enraptured him, his heart already yours the second you got him in a whirlwind of adventures.

“Cater, Cater! What do you think? Totally lives up to the hype, right?” You gesture to the space before him, a quaint café, a sight he had seen from a post on MagiCam. It was just as described in the video, except for you and your dazzling smile before him. Maybe it was the post prophesizing the hype, or you were bewitching him, but he had to absolutely agree.

Lilia - trip to memory lane

While memories came to him in fractals of glass in the depths of his mind, pictures were best to help jog his memories. Of course, gadgets count too - the years had passed him so quickly that everything seemed the same, technologically advanced or not.

You were a curious youth, looking through the pieces of his life with childlike naivety. From Sebek and Silver’s baby pictures to Malleus’ first tooth, you’d stumble these small moments and witness a teary-eyed Lilia watch you piece together what would be a tapestry of his family and his livelihood.

He’d not bat an eye when you stumble an age-old weapon, a relic he couldn’t recall keeping around for so long - and probably upcycled it for something. The fae would search through the banks of his memory of what was, but comes across some vague details, your befuddled expression matching his own.

“Lilia?” Your reflection peers over at the fae, his expression lost in thought somewhere. “Ah yes, my dear?” He draws a blank, retrieving the weapon from you. “All the things you have…. I can see that you treasure them so, Lilia..” “Fufu, indeed, my dear child, indeed. All of this to say that I live well and long enough to see everything..”

Leona - cuddle bug/naptime

Slumber was the one thing you craved after a long day of assignments and homework, your weary body aching for a moment’s rest. You seek shelter at a familiar face’s room, not bearing mind to your surroundings when you collapse on the bed and close your eyes.

When you come to, the scent of calendulas and rose buds drifts about, a profound warmth enveloping you. Warm breath tickles the back of your neck, sending heat up from your shoulders to your cheeks. A hand latches around your waist, holding you close but not too tight to the point of suffocation.

You glance behind, only to be met face-to-face with a slumbering Leona. Remnants of sleep linger on, your mind piecing together any memory of you coming across the third year. Alas, you barely had enough to register your thoughts when an emerald eye stares at you in quiet disapproval.

“Napping done already?” A lazy drawl rumbles from Leona, his eyes coalescing to a gorgeous shade of lush green. His gaze was watchful, picking up on any moment that may perturb his slumber - his tail wraps on your ankle, his possessive in full display. You dare not to provoke him further, facing him and his unnecessarily open neckline, itching closer to him as if seeking his warmth. A victorious smirk curls on his lips before he closes his eyes once more, you trapped in his clutches, returning to the realm of sleep once more.

[fairlyabookie]

the things you do that got them head over heels (part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | feat. third years ! more in coming :>

Malleus - Ice cream date

There was nothing about going out on an afternoon outing after class for an ice cream venture, Malleus thought to himself. The thought of having one was alluring after a tiresome day of classes and homework. He could picture the preserved sweetness, the creamy goodness. Oh, he would love to spend a pretty penny to consume one right now.

Of course, he had to take you into his little adventure of getting ice cream. Malleus certainly wanted the company to ensure he wasn’t the only one getting the delectable; why not share the wonderful goodness that was ice cream together? You couldn’t refuse, go along with your companion for a bowl of ice cream goodness.

Matter of fact, he was glad he had you he couldn't ask for this merry moment - the others would deem Malleus intimidating to go with, Sebek and SIlver was already busy with club activities and training, and Lilia.. Lilia would coax the younger to ask a friend out - besides, didn’t Malleus already make a friend? He definitely implicated you for Malleus.

“Whoa, Malleus, you’re seriously craving ice cream THAT much?!” Your eyes pop out of your head when you witness a grand portion of ice cream from Malleus’ clutches. Amusement graces the fae’s lips, “I did tell you that I’m craving it today; besides, we can share, can we?” You can picture a large draconic tail wagging back and forth.

Vil- window shopping/ trying out new clothes

Vil always experimented with style and, as always, looked good doing it. He’d set trends, and upcycle vintage for a new, refreshing one. Such transformations would send waves upon waves of adoration from his fanbase and onlookers alike, nothing short of Vil’s prowess in impeccable style and attention to detail.

You, on the other hand, try to hold yourself back from buying too many clothes; your closet was practically bursting from your last bulk purchase of new attire. The urge to deep clean and reorganize everything was strong; yet your tendency to seek fashion was stronger. You were dying for a little window shopping trip - just to see the latest fashion trends, the prices of said attire, and the clearance racks.

Vil was more than happy to accompany you, often offering his card to just see you fluster and refuse the card, even though he personally thought the attire the both of you were peering at definitely suited your style. He genuinely loved spending time with you, walking around the mall, and browsing through clothes for a moment or two. He’d even encourage you to purchase it, showering you with compliment,s and even promises to help clean up your closet when the time was ripe.

“Oh, please, [Reader]. That top would absolutely compliment the bottoms you have!” He shows you the aforementioned attire. Your eyes light up, taking a mental picture of the top with an outfit you already had at home. “Oh my gosh, Vil. That’s perfect!” Before you can get your hopes up, you had to peer at the price tag. “Uh uh, don’t even think about the price. I’ll pay for it, [Reader]. My treat.”

Idia - insane gacha luck

The both of you were gamers through and through, spending time in Idia’s room grinding the day away to get the amount of resources required for a certain character you obtained. Sometimes, this would merit occasional check ins with Ortho to ensure the both of you were eating properly.

Whether his room would be filled with silence or the next hit from his favorite idol group, your grumblings, jubilations and musing would cause a clamor. You’d show Idia the results of your labor, showcasing the new stats for the character you were grinding on.

If you two played the same game, he’d one-up you with the same character he had but with the bigger stats, sending you into a competitive streak. No way you can let Idia beat you on YOUR game- you feel the flames of war ignite in your spirit - it’s so on.

“There is no way you can beat ME, the KING of GAMING! I’ve already ascended him, not once, twice but THREE TIMES! Oh yeah, baby, I can CRUSH you if we go 1v1!” Your jaw drops to the ground as soon as Idia's phone comes to your line of vision. You cannot believe this man before you, his build on such character dwarfing yours. Could it be whaling or just getting very lucky with the grind? “Dude, dude, I get it; you definitely whaled.” Idia gasps, a horror-stricken expression befalling his pale complexion. “LE GASP I did NOT!”

Rook - sharing your passions

Rook goes absolutely heart eyes the minute you talk about your passions, your loves and your crushes. He is all ears, watching you with nothing but love in his body language. In the case you ever falter, he’d encourage you to keep going. Holding back isn’t an option.

If there are any events related to your interests, he’d be the one accompanying you, helping you carry your things and help you with pictures for your plushies if you bring them along. He’d even invest in bringing matching merch with you, even surprising you.

In addition to you sharing your passions, he’d even share his - the both of you sharing a space together where you can express yourselves and your hobbies and passions. In the time that you ever feel flustered about saying too much, Rook is your enabler. Whether it be an impulsive purchase you’ve made for your favorite character or a must-buy from a recommendation, Rook is 100% enabling everything so you can feel happier and closer to your idol.

“Oh la la, my dear! I see you’ve brought your little plushies! How should we go about with the pictures? With the lightsticks or not?” You couldn’t seem to wipe off the silly grin on your face when your classmate pets the plushies you’ve brought along to the event. He also brings his pair of plushies, all perfectly encaged in a cute bag.

[fairlyabookie]

a moon’s shadow

Author’s note: my first dc comic themed fic featuring nightwing/robin!

- vigilante! reader x nightwing

- original character as self insert

- gender neutral reader

- mentions of familial deaths and pints of angst

Enjoy!

A moonless sky reigns over Gotham City, the moon and stars no more, the streetlights beacons of light in the sea of black. Below, police sirens pierce the silence, filling the streets with roaring engines.

A silhouette emerges from the shadows, heading in the opposite direction. The streets of Gotham were bare, save for a few stranglers seeking shelter for the night. Leaping from building to building, the shadow lingers onto a rooftop, their gaze fixated on an abandoned warehouse, watching unsuspecting personnel whispering amongst themselves. A smirk dances upon moonlit features as the silhouette blends in with the shadows once more - a chorus of cries bursting into the night’s silence.

~ ~ ~

“What happened here?”

Batman’s booming voice commands the attention of Jim Gordon and his subordinates. The Boy Wonder peeks out of his guardian’s cape, peering over his shoulder at the scene. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation - a scene of bounded henchmen cursing under their breaths, destroyed technological devices, and a crowd of GCPD personnel taping off the area. How was it over already?

Jim pinches his nose with a sigh.

“I wish I knew, Batman. Someone said that a kid rounded everyone up and left, even left a phone call to the station using the perp’s phone.”

Both Robin and Batman exchange quizzical looks; there was no way someone beat them to it - the intel from GCPD was right on the money. What went wrong? Both didn’t have the luxury to speculate further; they had to investigate who and what.

Jimmy Gordon regards the minor with a stormy look.

“I presume you had nothing to do with this?”

Robin flashes a smile.

“No, sir! I was with Batman the entire night.”

“I can vouch for him.”

“You being here with Robin already makes a tight alibi.”

The elder sighs, taking a sip of his coffee before maintaining his composure.

“They’ve certainly left something here. Thought you might want to look into it.”

The night returns to police chatter and shuffling as Batman and Robin are left behind with a calling card, a style unbeknownst to anyone in Gotham.

At first sight, it was a blank card; just a simple flashcard used by students to study for classes, or a nervous speaker presenting in front of a crowd. Batman retrieves a flashlight from his utility belt, a beam of light scanning the card for clues. Nothing. Robin tries a light source, the warm light of a street light illuminating the card. Nothing.

Before they could give up on their search, they looked up. The opaque clouds reign the skies, just the perfect timing when they had thought of another light source.

“How about this?”

Batman retrieves yet another tool from his utility belt: a handheld mirror. He shines a light onto the mirror, where a fractal of light beams onto the card. Black ink bleeds into the white expanse of the card:

The smiling moon sends their regards.

Crescent

A winking caricature next to minuscule, neat penmanship scrawled on the card. Huh, cute, I guess. A deep frown curls on Bruce’s lips.

“Batman, I think we have a new troublemaker in town.”

“Great, another nuisance.”

The older man grumbles.

~ ~ ~ ~

A crescent moon bears witness to the spectacle below, smiling oh-so-widely as if the city were just entertainment. Streetlights dot the streets, feeble replicas of the stars above, with their weak light. A silhouette leaps from rooftop to rooftop, observing for any activity from below.

A screech erupts from the darkness.

“Help!”

The silhouette leaps forth, their shadow catching the perpetrators by surprise. Two pitiful robbers and a lady, a simple task. A quick blow or two knocks out the thieves, their bodies thudding against the pavement. The pretty purse is given back to the victim in a flash. A wide-eyed lady gasps her thanks, but her hero had already vanished into the night, save for a calling card by the opening of her purse.

A great night if I say so myself, Crescent chuckles to themselves, returning to the rooftops. They take off to a running start, ready for their next objective.

“Stop right there!”

[Reader] stumbles, nearly missing their timing to launch off the rooftop. They mutter a curse, reconsidering their timing to jump. Getting caught was one thing, but getting caught by an obnoxiously costumed vigilante was another. This vigilante had a taste for the flair. Like, dude, what is that outfit? Aren’t you a lovely target for criminals alike... [Reader] shifted their focus elsewhere - escaping this weirdo was a priority. They leaped from rooftop to rooftop, chasing the stars and moon as fiercely as they could, whilst keeping a distance from them and this masked fellow.

“I don’t want to do this.”

A split second and [Reader]’s ankles lock into place, a painful surge of electricity stunning them into complicity.

Great, this one’s got toys too. [Reader] had a splendid evening of patrol - when they thought they could return home in one piece, without getting caught by the Bat and his lackey, Robin; the timing could’ve been more perfect.

“Congratulations, you caught me. What’s next? Me getting tossed into Gotham prison for crimes against humanity?” Moonlight shone upon a mask bearing cherubic features, a lean build amid growth between a young boy and a man. Right behind him was a man, the cape and cowl a symbol of a sealed fate. Great, now I have Batman on my tail too. How can this night get any worse?

“There are no grounds to arrest you just yet.”

Batman remarks, approaching closer to [Reader].

“We want answers. Talk and we’ll let you go.”

Well, that’s a fun way to talk to someone.

Realization dawns upon the boy’s features.

“Hey, you’re just a kid!”

[Reader] rolls their eyes. They heard that way too many times.

“I would say the same to you, Mr. Robin.”

A prominent frown graces the young man’s lips.

“Okay, Robin. Can you let me go now? I didn’t commit a crime, and got places to be.”

The boy’s features turn stern,

“I can’t do that, Crescent. We have some questions, and we can’t let you go until you’ve answered them.”

“Truthfully.”

Batman emphasizes.

Darn it, they know me now. I should’ve left my calling card elsewhere...

The twerp Robin was one thing, but Batman was another; he could easily knock [Reader]. One false move, and they were done for. They had to abide by their time and hope for the best, or maybe play nice, and perhaps, they can let them go easy.

[Reader] heaves a sigh, steeling themselves from the inevitable. First, the bonds were becoming uncomfortable, their wrists and ankles tied together, not the ideal position for an interrogation, but Crescent would have to bear with it for now.

Robin watches [Reader] struggle, a pang of guilt making its way to his big ol’ heart. Maybe he shouldn’t have deployed those ropes. [Reader] adjusted themselves, sure they might pass for a caterpillar, but they can roll with it.

“Alright, ask away. I’m all yours.”

Batman spares Robin a glance and nods. The young boy takes a breath.

“Who are you, exactly?”

An easy-going smile dances on their lips.

“I’m Crescent, I’m sure you knew that name when you picked up one of my calling cards.”

“So are you a hero or a villain?”

“I’m not Catwoman or Batman.”

So they’re not the Riddler in disguise, got it? Yet, the vague answer helped with deduction over here.

“But you just beat up two men and returned the purse to the lady earlier.”

An incredulous expression befalls on [Reader]’s features.

“Oh, you were watching? Darn it, I should’ve been more discreet..”

“You were discreet, alright. Completely out of sight from the surveillance cameras, too. Not to mention, you even took down a drug syndicate by yourself last week. Care to explain that?”

A heavy silence befalls between the two.

[Reader]’s lips curl to an indiscernible expression.

“My paper trail.”

“Your paper trail.”

Batman presents the card from his cape, the black ink scrawled across the card. The damning piece of evidence warrants a defeated sigh from [Reader], their bounds feeling a little tighter than it was earlier.

“Care to explain?”

“Hey, Gotham needs another vigilante, ya know.”

[Reader] challenges, their gaze fixated on the Boy Wonder and Batman.

“It doesn’t need another one. We could’ve taken care of that. You, on the other hand, could’ve gotten killed by those individuals who are twice your size. Where are your parents?”

Those slew of stinging words did a hit on [Reader]’s ego, yet, they weren’t ready to back down.

“Sure, Batman, whatever you say. You’re not the only one who wants to protect their home from criminals. I managed fine, thank you so much.”

A smirk dances on the corner of their lips. Alas, Batman wasn’t amused.

“Go home.”

He commands, his gaze indistinguishable from the cowl that donned the night. Finish this quickly. He mouths to Robin, his cape melding into Gotham’s city lights. Such a dismissal incensed [Reader], their body thrashing about in their bounds.

“I’m old enough! Now, let me go! I was about to go home anyway!”

Robin equips a batarang to cleave the ropes. [Reader] shakes off their bounds, rubbing off the ache from their ankles and wrists.

“No hard feelings, Crescent?”

He offers a gloved hand. [Reader] casts a judgmental glance over to the Boy Wonder before taking the hand to heave themselves up.

“Oh, I’m deeply offended, Mr. Robin. Your dad, the Batman, is a piece of work.”

“I hope you’re exaggerating.”

A pout forms on the boy’s lips.

“I’m half joking, Robin.”

The pout only deepens.

“I hope you got the answers you wanted. It’s been a nice chat, Robin - and Mr. Batman.”

[Reader] salutes before joining the stars in leads and bounds on the rooftops. Robin’s gaze follows their silhouette, and his heart aflutters with a strange sensation.

“Let’s go home, Dick.”

The sharp hiss of a grappling hook anchors the boy back to reality. He complies, sparing a moment to peer behind him for the mysterious vigilante named Crescent.

~ ~

“Is that all you got, kid? You should’ve called for backup.”

A gangly fellow sneers, landing a solid punch on Crescent’s cheek. The impact stung, nearly enough to taste copper in their mouth.

“Really? I’m getting warmed up.”

Crescent prepares their stance, their vision blurring, their ear ringing from one side. Great, I took more than I can chew. They launch onto their opponent, landing on something taunt - they hoped, an arm or chest. To no avail, the world froze, a grunt escaped their lips, and an unfathomable pain plunged into their stomach, the telltale sound of cracking filling their ears. Good thing I’m on an empty stomach, and ow.

Hot tears corner their eyes, pain burning all over their body. A hand strays to their abdomen, a sign of weakness that the big, burly gentleman in front of them sneered at. [Reader] mutters an expletive before launching into several somersaults, gaining enough space between them and their opponent. The momentum from the somersault left them disoriented, their ankle giving way to a clumsy landing.

“Need a little help?”

A familiar voice chirps, a shadow from above slipping into between the two, the familiar streak of red and green.

“Huh, you have weird timing.”

[Reader] comments, their other hand applying pressure to their wound. They flinch, pain searing through their body like a flame.

“Where’s the thanks?”

[Reader] couldn’t believe this kid.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Robin scoffs,

“Ouch.”

[Reader] kicks another hooligan by the royal jewels, a screech contrasting the man’s bulk ringing out the space.

“Got a tip from the police that you were on the scene for another syndicate. You should team up with us.”

Robin quips, knocking out a few enemies with expert acrobatics - [Reader] wasn’t bothered to look up; their wound taking priority over the boy’s skills. A daring peek at their wound reveals a collective of bruises, thanks to that bozo’s punches and bashing. Great, this will take a while to heal. A poor excuse of a war cry comes from behind; Robin swivels in his step.

“Crescent, on your six!”

It didn’t take long for the [Reader] to disarm the hooligan; a simple sweep of the feet, and a broken dignity came forth. Robin scours the scene: rows of broken bodies and dignities lay across the floor like pitiful dominos, and a crowd of civilians, mostly children, sit in the corner, incredulous, their wide, innocent eyes imbibing every detail of the world around them. The silence of a well-earned victory lay in thick.

As if timing were to get even better, flashes of red and blue flicker about; Jim Gordon with his weathered features and iconic frown approaching the two vigilantes.

“Care to spill the details, my friend?” Robin swivels in his step, his eyes landing on [Reader]’s injury.

“I-“

A looming shadow hovers over [Reader]’s figure, the tell-tale silhouette of Batman looming ominously.

“Let’s get you patched up, first.”

A gloved hand lands on their shoulder.

“Right, right.”

Just before [Reader] could take a step, a bolt of pain shoots up from their ankle, a hiss escapes from their lips, and they stumble, trying to find purchase on their feet.

“Easy, Crescent, easy.”

Robin consoles, offering a shoulder to the youth. [Reader] holds back another grimace.

“Thanks.”

They prop themselves up, taking a breath to recuperate themselves from the pain.

~ ~

“Where do you get your info from?”

“I tinkered with a radio and found the radio frequency for GCPD,”

A heavy silence.

“I scout out after school and at night after dinner. Happy?”

“Satisfactory, but not enough.”

Batman grunts.

“How did you know about the drug syndicates? Those groups are usually tight-lipped about their operations..”

“How would a kid like you know?”

“My uncle works in the police force. He had been stressing out about the case for a month, so I just gave him a helping hand.”

“Does your uncle know that you’re doing this?”

A pointed look.

“No, and I want to keep it that way.”

~ ~

“Bruce.”

“Yes, Dick?”

The young boy jostles with his costume, the words scrambling about in his mind. Robin, the sidekick who fought alongside Batman, who can kick butt and take names in the streets of Gotham, could present himself - the ever-confident, wise-cracking Robin. But, this was Dick Grayson, the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, the living embodiment of the Flying Graysons, and the first Robin. A young boy still figuring himself out in the world, a world where both of his parents were dead, and his father figure was Bruce Wayne, the man behind the cowl.

“About Crescent..”

“Ah yes, Crescent.”

The older man pulls up a profile, listing the so-called “vigilante” on the screen.

“Crescent goes by [Reader]. Her uncle works as a lieutenant in the police force. They also attend Gotham City High School, the same grade as you.”

Dick hesitated, the sudden information overwhelming - yes, invasion of privacy, but this is typical Batman fashion. Anyone in the Gotham City database could be searched with a click away.

I should be knowing this from Crescent themselves, Dick frowns.

“I wanted to talk about them, specifically about having them join us in our patrols.”

Bruce peers over to his protégé.

“I’m glad that you two are getting along well, Dick, but Crescent is a minor; they have to work it out with their familial relations,”

He eyes the profile once more.

“To think that someone your age has been playing hero by themselves. They had the right idea, but it’s too dangerous - they could get hurt, worse, be left in the streets, dead or alive, with no one who can look out for them,”

Silence passes. Bruce swipes to the profile of Crescent to the right while pulling up the profile of their familial relations, along with a dated case written from GCPD.

“Ten years ago, their parents died in a freak car accident - according to the news. In reality, loan sharks compromised their vehicle, where, and on the way to the date, veered off into the coast. Both didn’t survive.”

Why am I learning this now? Dick ponders to himself.

“Their only blood relative is their uncle, a younger brother of their mom, who works in the police force. [Reader] was only five years old when that happened.”

A frown comes across Bruce’s weathered features.

“I’m telling you this now so you know, Dick. It’s not like I don’t trust [Reader] to join us; they’re already involved in the dangers of Gotham, in a world that could swallow them whole if they’re not careful. Believe me, Dick, Crescent may need a mentor to guide them to use their energies for something productive, I’m sure. But.. it’s something that they need to come to terms with their family, whether their uncle likes it or not.”

Dick lets out a sigh he had been holding for a while. He clung to the idea of having Crescent join the ranks - heck, he thought it would be neat to have someone new in the Bat Family. Yet, maybe it was the start of a puppy-like crush, or something even more, that had him hoping for Crescent, hope if he could spend more time with [Reader].

~ ~

[Reader] returns home to a quiet apartment. It’s too quiet.

“Uncle?”

“Welcome home, [Reader]. We need to talk.”

A weary lieutenant gestures to an empty seat. [Reader] complies. Years of work bore down on the man in broad shoulders, a maintained physique fit for intimidation and physical confrontations, yet his face, once youthful years past, was weary from labor. He takes a breath before starting,

“I’m aware of your nightly ventures, [Reader], and as your legal guardian, I will have to ask you to stop playing vigilante and be a normal kid.”

[Reader]’s heart weighed heavily; so much for helping him. The older man heaves another sigh.

“Kid, Crescent was a big help around Gotham, but leave it to the adults.”

“You mean leave it to Batman and his kid sidekick, Robin?”

They say bitterly, toxin seeping into their words. A frown weathers the man’s features.

“[Reader]...”

“Uncle, please. I want to help you safeguard the streets of Gotham. I just can’t stand there and do nothing!”

“[Reader],”

Calloused hands wrap around small ones, a pleading look upon the older man’s features.

“I can’t afford to lose you too. I lost my oldest, my only sister and my brother to some second-rate criminal who saw them as nothing but banks for their buck. Please, for our sake, take the mask off and be a normal kid.”

[Reader] wasn’t ready to let go; their hands trembled, their vision blurring with wet, hot tears.

Their uncle presses on, patting their relative gently on the head.

“You can help the community from within; volunteer at a shelter, tutor some kids, or even donate items that you no longer use. It doesn’t have to be this way, [Reader]. Your heroism is admirable, and I’m very proud of what you’ve done as a vigilante.”

He pauses, letting silence take over, letting [Reader] respond in time. They peer over to their relative, a resolution coming into mind.

~ ~ ~

[Reader] lounges against a billboard, their gaze resting upon a skyline of Gotham, the familiar ambiance of sirens screeching out into the night. The autumn chill distilled their breath into palpable puffs of air, their fingers pale against the unforgiving cold. A steaming cup of ramen awaits beside them, titillating flavor drifting along.

Yet, the youth lounged, gazing upon Gotham with hazy eyes.

“Knock knock.”

[Reader] startles from their stupor, scouring for the interloper who just had to interrupt their alone time. A masked fellow smiles at Crescent, the night cloaking the bright hues of red and green to muted shades of crimson and grass green.

“What are you doing here, Boy Wonder?”

[Reader] averts their gaze elsewhere, not wanting to see that blasted ‘R’ symbol again.

“Oh, I go up here too. Just wanted to be polite and say hi.”

Nothing harmless about that. [Reader] sighs, returning their gaze to the skyline.

“Where is your papa, then? I know he doesn’t let you venture to the streets by yourself.”

“I’m done with the patrol for the night, Crescent. I just go here when I’m done, just for a breather.”

Crescent takes a bite from their ramen.

“Gotham sure is pretty at night, huh, Robin?”

“Yeah.”

Yet, Robin’s gaze was elsewhere, not on Gotham’s city lights, but on someone else. [Reader] regards the boy with a raise of their cup. A grin appears on the boy’s lips. He takes off his mask, heaving a sigh - the Boy Wonder, now a young boy in a bright costume, lays upon the rooftop, eyes the color of pure sky aligning with [Reader]’s.

“Hey, do you mind if I tell you something stupid?”

“I don’t mind stupid.”

“Having you in Gotham is fun; well, seeing you around and working together and all.”

[Reader] scoffs, drinking remnants of the broth left in the soup.

“You sound like you’re going to miss me, Robin. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But, your uncle-”

“Listen, Boy Wonder, I know. Without or with Batman, my uncle was bound to figure out that I was sneaking out late at night, kicking butt and saving Gotham at the same time, but I made my choice too, Robin.”

The youth could feel their temper spiking with this topic.

“But, it doesn’t have to be that way, Crescent. You can join us, train with us, and be part of a team.”

A bittersweet smile crossed [Reader]’s lips; there was something about the boy’s pleas, his sincerity conveyed in those pretty eyes of his. Crescent the vigilante would be so elated to be working with the Dynamic Duo; crime-fighting together in the dead of night, grappling along the city lights of Gotham. But, [Reader] the civilian was a child - like this Robin before them. On another day, both children would’ve been great friends - the idea was entertaining, but not now. They ruffle his black locks before tossing an empty ramen cup into the trash.

“That’s the kicker, Boy Wonder. I’m not trained enough to tag along with you.”

“But we can train together!”

“Not happening,”

The last remark left a frown on the boy’s lips. A dry chuckle bubbles from [Reader], a cloud of cold air puffing from their lips.

“It’s fine, Robin. I almost snapped at my uncle for letting him decide for me. But then again, I’m just a kid - I don’t know any better.”

The smile quickly fades, [Reader] embracing the chilling bite of late winter after a warm soup.

“I hate that he is right; I could wind up lost in Gotham, or worse, dead out there, and it’s not a pretty image to think considering that my own uncle is working with the most interesting job in the police force.”

They peer over to Robin, his cherubic features darkening to contemplation.

“It was fun while it lasted, Robin. Working with you, that is.”

Robin reaches out, grabbing hold of [Reader]’s wrist.

“Crescent..”

“Nothing against you, Robin. Keep up with the good work. It was nice knowing you.”

An iron grip on the wrist disrupts [Reader]’s train of thought.

“Will we see each other again?”

[Reader] wasn’t fond of those hopeful eyes, eyes that branded into their very soul as if he were searching for an answer, innocence, and eagerness mixing into a pure concoction of childish delight.

“I… don’t know..”

[Reader] retracts their hand, their resolve faltering with each passing second. They dare not to look into the boy’s eyes, a second longer, they could fathom the regret boiling from within.

“Crescent is no more, Robin.”

[Reader]’s mouth tasted foreign as soon as those words were uttered; their heart thundering against their rib cage, they could feel their world topple. The stern expressions of her uncle and Batman in the kitchen area, the tempest of sentiments crashing on the mere idea of abandoning Crescent to return to a normal livelihood - Gotham was dangerous, yes, but being a vigilante at such a tender age wasn’t sustainable. Crescent had to go.

“I have to go. I can’t stay here.”

A voice wavers under the weight of emotions. A single tear falls on the youth’s cheek; they cannot look back to the Boy Wonder, an embodiment of what could’ve been for Crescent. As pity reigned in their heart, they turned a heel and placed a light kiss onto the boy’s cheek. His eyes widened, a blush dusting his cheeks.

“Consider my thanks from the save. Goodbye, Robin.”

The moon, drenched in the light and dark, watches the city from above, encasing those in darkness in a halo of pale light.

~ Years Later ~

Bludhaven pulsed with cars lighting up the night sky, the skyline a plethora of colors from the city. The night was young, and so were the late-night parties, a cacophony of music and clamor intertwining into the night. Eloquently dressed individuals frolic the venue, exchanging pleasantries and drinks.

Until, a thundering crash reaps chaos, bringing forth distressed screams and police sirens into the night. A group of lackeys and their leader taunt the innocent, grabbing those nearby at gunpoint. [Reader] quickly weaves between the crowd, careful not to step on anyone’s feet and tip off anyone on their trail.

“Whoa there, I’d be careful going out and about in the middle of a crime scene.”

Gentle, strong arms anchor [Reader] into place, a handsome visage complimented by eyes of cloudless skies on a summer’s day. Okay, not the first time I've been stopped by a handsome stranger.

“Says the one entering the crime scene. Do you have better ideas on how to clean up this mess?”

[Reader] perks an eyebrow. The stranger’s handsome features contort with confusion, only to light up with realization.

“Crescent?”

Something clicked in [Reader]; a hazy memory of boyish charm was a man dripping in beauty, piercing blue eyes, a chiseled jawline, and a broad physique. Was this Robin, [Reader] ponders. It had to be.

“Who do you think?”

The man chuckles, his grip tightening for a moment.

“Thought you retired from vigilante life! What brings you to Bludhaven?”

Another wave of screams cut in their conversation. [Reader] takes off their heels, following the stranger.

“How about we deal with this now and talk later?”

“Seconded.”

The two split, one of them dealing with the lackeys head-on with nothing but a pair of heels and their hands while the other beats up the infiltrator, acrobatics, and all for quick effect. One, a powerful kick to the face: two, a swift uppercut square in the jaw; three, a prompt punch to the gut that incapacitated the enemy in seconds.

~ ~

“Not too shabby, Nightwing.”

A knowing smirk dances on [Reader]’s lips. The vigilante regards his acquaintance with a bow.

“I know, I do my job well. Thank you very much.”

[Reader] rolls their eyes. When did he up the theatrics? Even if the man in front of them was the Robin they once knew, they couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that something changed. Was it the costume? The oozing confidence this man carried on his shoulders? The dimpled smile that could bring anyone swooning left and right? Huh, something probably changed, alright.

The scene was definitely familiar; both fighting against crime in the best way they could, but this time, he was Nightwing, and [Reader] was someone else entirely.

“Now that we have that taken care of, it seems we have a lot of catching up to do..”

[Reader] saw that coming.

~ ~

Away from the din, the corners of Bludhaven were quiet, and dark compared to the ever-bright haven from the heart of the city. A full moon rests high upon the sky, pale light illuminating the darkness.

“So, Bludhaven? I’m sure you didn’t move here just so you can be with me.”

A teasing remark is quickly countered with a quip from [Reader],

“In your wildest dreams, Nightwing. I moved here because of college, and Gotham was getting a little too much for me. It’s a nice city here.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more..”

Nightwing’s gaze flickers over to [Reader]’s profile; the years passed between the two - [Reader] had blossomed into a fine young adult, their attire flattering their body shape in ways that were driving the young man crazy; for [Reader], the young, awkward teenager who they knew as Robin had became something from a romance novel: broad shoulders, a charismatic smile, gorgeous locks that blended into the night. If [Reader] were caught by their friends with this man, the youth would be teased all day.

Alas, the man before them was a former friend; of course, catching up was warranted.

“So, Crescent is no more, right?”

“I go by Nightfall now, Sir Nightwing.”

“Nightfall? Are you sure? Because we’re matching codenames here.”

[Reader]’s cheeks burned hot. Punching Nightwing to the next dimension or burying themselves six feet under were appealing options.

“That was not intentional, Jerkwing.”

A rich laugh, one that brought [Reader]’s heart asunder, one of genuine elation, one that they hadn’t heard of since they met the Boy Wonder.

“Alright then,”

[Reader] felt their heart race, an odd sensation they welcomed as Nightwing inched closer to them. The domino mask was off; a dimpled smile gracing his lips.

“Hey, Nightfall.”

[Reader] hated how easily the name rolled off his tongue, the way it sounded so nicely to him. Nightwing was messing with them.

“Hey, Sir Nightwing.”

Amusement creased the corner of his eyes, the pure blue eyes glittering. A finger angles [Reader]’s chin, aligning their gaze to his. They have never forgotten those precious eyes of his, alluring and beautiful like fresh pearls.

“Please call me Dick.”

His voice drops to a whisper. The distance closes, the warmth from each other’s bodies palpable. Dick’s other hand moves to [Reader]’s, gingerly wrapping his palm around theirs. His presence spoke of patience, waiting for them to answer his advances.

“We never really introduced ourselves, did we, Dick?”

Dick’s dimples deepen,

“We didn’t; we would see each other and refer to each other by codenames.”

“That was probably for the best, huh.”

The two chuckle; poor [Reader]’s heart jittering against their ribcage. What were they doing holding hands with someone they hadn’t spoken to in years, let alone feel like a scene from a sickeningly sweet high school romance?

“Alright, I’ll play along, Sir Dick. I’m [Reader], pleased to meet you.”

Dick’s expression softens, a smile belonging to the gods melting [Reader]’s heart.

“[Reader], it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

The young man placates a kiss on the back of [Reader]’s hand, a flirtatious wink that sealed their fate right then and there.

[fairlyabookie]

spare sanity

I just finished a 4k word fic and I'm about to *lose* it

[fairlyabookie]

I don't know what happened, but whatever I cooked in the first year post really did a number on folks-