#but now i want to know where my child support check is richard

[andy-clutterbuck]

9x03 | Warning Signs

[anavatazes]

So, Tumblr is up to its bullshit again. I am not receiving notifications, and even the little activity bubble on the app or web page isn't alerting me to anything. When I click on it, there's new stuff in there... fuck you Tumblr.

Head is progressively better. Still achey, but it is better. I've made it out to the couch today and am actually accomplishing things that I've needed to get done the last few days but couldn't. Go me! Was also able to get clarification from one of my doctors about a new medication they wanted me to start as soon as some tests came back, and so that's settled. Add another damn pill to the mix for at least the next 90 days 😕.

In other news, I have been toying with the idea of writing a Joel fic where he experiences Yule for the first time. Not Christmas or a Wiccan Yule, but a Norse Pagan Yule. I see others wanting to write various holiday stories to share their holiday traditions or be more inclusive, which got me thinking. It'll be related to the only other fic I've written and posted here. If I can figure out how to do it on the phone (or remember to go back and edit it on the laptop), I'll post a link for it. But Joel learns about Yule through the eyes of a child with the help of her aunt, his future girlfriend. Again, just toying with it.

Still not sure how I feel about the whole Pedro and F4 thing. A lot more info is out now with conflicting stories, which is typical. It's boiled down to the waiting game. No matter what, I will support him in whatever role he takes, even if I think it's a shit one. To me, from knowing Reed Richards in the comics, he's a boring, abusive asshole. Don't care he's a genius. Doesn't give him the right to be that way. Tony may be a playboy, but he isn't an abusive one. He's a jerk. He can be an asshole. But he ain't Reed. And that's where I will leave that.

I need more Joel. More Joel Fluff. In Jackson. Actual Fluff. Light on the Smut. 👀👀👀 I said what I said. I want to be held and crushed by those arms and feel safe. Intimacy is not always sex. I want to hold him and make him feel safe.

Ok, I need to get up. Mara is staring at me and the door. It's potty time.

Here she is with her Raz'um Bob, the Queen of the house. Raz calls her The Fucking Dog, but that's HER Fucking Dog, and don't you forget it!

Edited to add link for The Last of Us Drabble

If I have done it right, you should have me babbling just above a picture of Joel's dog, Drifa. I will check it, but man, Tumblr likes to make this a bitch... or I am just old 🙃. So, if this is like a few hours old and it doesn't work, let me know.

(No, I am not ready to say get off my lawn, yet. I like having people over. Fuck, I used to build and program computers and build websites from scratch, WTF?!)

[rollingforwerd]

Here is a fun filled timeline of serious relationships:

My first serious ish boyfriend was Evan Self. I say serious ish because it started in middle school . Probably seventh grade to my freshman year. He had one biological brother and his family adopted two troubled other brothers while I was still with him. We did so much together his family became a big part of me. His dad eventually lost his life when a police car hit his motorcycle. Leaving Samye, his wife, his two biological children and the now four they had adopted. At this time I reconnected with the family since they had been such a large part of my life at one point. They’ve all moved to Texas but they will always be family to me.

Then came Richard - I dated him for a couple weeks. We rode the same bus. He would wait for me in the hallway outside biology class. He originally dumped me for not giving him a blow job.

I had a few unserious relationships here and there and then I started dating Carl. He was a long haired long nailed strange dude. I spent lots of time at his house. He had a single mom raising three boys;Carl, Chris, and Colin oh yeah her name was Connie. Her husband Donald was a piece of work. He was awful. Hed tell me all the time that I didn’t deserve to be with his prized child, who obviously shared his delusions of granger. He lived in this apartment alone. Stole cable from his neighbors, had no car and his elderly mother paid for said apartment. He had an obsession with hentai…. Badly . But most of all with “inflated” ones meaning large breasts and bellies so he ended up with a pregnancy fetish. He would make me push out my diaphragm to make it look like I was and he’d creepily kiss it and yeah anyways I digress ( one reason why I thought I didn’t want children) his mom was out one day and we were listening to the rain and this is the day he violated me. I pleaded and begged and cried no but he didn’t stop. My brain repressed this until years later I was watching a movie where someone else had that happen to them and it all came flooding back. There was one time he had a hole in the butt of his pants and I poked it and he round house kicked me into the wall. I didn’t listen to my parents, either they kept helping me with tuition or I could move in with him- so I moved in with him and worked out payments for my tuition. One night I was sleeping and he had been stocking shelves overnight and he came home on his lunch break and instead of watching tv in the living room he watched it in the bedroom. I turned over to ask him to turn it down and he punched me. It took me a long time to leave and when I told him finally I was he pulled a knife on me. I was so scared and locked myself in the bathroom. My mom rented a uhaul and we moved all my stuff out.

It took me awhile to compose myself after that , if My dad couldn’t love me how could anyone else love me, like I deserved this treatment.

Then I reconnected with a friend from high school that I had a crush on at the time he sat in front of me in math class. We hit it off. We dated for almost 4 years. Shared an apartment, memories, a terrible kitten. He joined the air force . I supported him making the decision, I was there for his mom when she was sad by it. We drove to see his basic graduation . I made signs for his run. I flew to see his AIT graduation, I thought everything was fine. Gave him a gift for his birthday and days later he said it just felt like we were friends. I’m sorry but last time I checked you’d want to be with your best friend forever. We had been planning a destination wedding a private ceremony. And then it all blew up in my face . He cheated on me with a girl he had met in the air force and later they got married, needless to say she eventually cheated on him and then they divorced. You know, karma shit. But when I look back I’m thankful for this relationship, he was with me though a lot… my moms breast cancer the first round of my dads cancer the freak death of my grandpa and I was as much help as I could be when his father took his own life.

So yes this is the point I lived off of wine for a couple weeks. I went to the open house at culinary school and at that point it was great until we found out the price. I went back into a stupor it’s was ridiculous. I once again felt defeated. I couldn’t be with someone I wanted to be with I couldn’t do what I wanted . My mom made me promise I’d see it through and agreed eventually to co sign my loan. Also she hated seeing me so lonely so she signed me up for match.com . That was fun…. At the same time as trying to date these other guys I reconnected with Richard but eventually told him I couldn’t because I had met a guy. Then I dated Ryan. I had so many insecurities at this point. I would go through his phone when he was in the shower, he’d tell his friends he wasn’t with me. He was a corrections officer . The only time he didn’t treat me badly was when we’d go to the gym together. We had some weird relationship thing but not for about 8 months. He eventually moved back to Seattle where he was from. He’d call and when he’s friends would ask who was on the phone he’d make up someone. So I cut that tie.

Then I decided to see Richard again. He kept loosing jobs . He got fired from being a foreman at a landscaping job, he got fired from bluesteaking . He decided to join the army because that’s what his bestie was doing. And one day he called me and said hey we should get married. And I said sure. And the rest kind of goes from there.

I left finally, after the mental and physical abuse to me and to my child. And then I met Donald . He was the weird creepy rebound. Toxic. A high functioning alcoholic. Also mentally abusive. He didn’t want kids, he’d get jealous of the time spent with my own child, he’d get mad if I saw friends instead of him. It also took me awhile to figure all this out how awful he was. He was a jeweler so obvious he’d give me things to wear from his personal collection. Fancy watches and things…. And he’d make me take pictures to prove to him I was wearing them.

After that I joined Facebook dating for the first time. There I met some interesting people, some foe some friendly … eventually I would meet Jim. He was a big guy in every way. Sweet and empathetic. He lost the custody of his child because he had kicked these people out of his house and they decided to get back at him by stealing his moms identity and and telling the police he jacked off in front of his son. That’s who went to California with us last year . It was a weird whirlwind of emotions. He eventually became closed off and kept standing me up and then he told me about buying a gun to end his own life and his dad found him and made him go to Florida. Months later I finally rejoined Facebook dating because I was mainly looking to talk to someone. Other than work I had no one to talk to , I felt so alone. And here we are, I met you .

Bryan is thee most kind hearted, strong, loving, understanding person I’ve ever met. And for the first time I realize this must be what love actually should feel like. He loves me for everything the faults and all, and I his.

[astralflower-writes]

heart like yours

☾ pairing: mark sloan x female! reader

☾ genre: angst

☾ warnings: season 9 spoilers; death

☾ read the prequel here

☾ check out the grey's anatomy masterlist here

☾ a/n: i moved accounts so im posting it again here

you and your colleagues were sitting and waiting on the conference room for a week now. waiting for a call that the team of doctors who were going to fly to boise are finally found.

countless thoughts were running in your head. are they all fine?

you were trying to hold off surgeries that you can, thinking that in every second you can get stuck inside an OR the rescue team would call.

"y/n. you need to rest. we'll page you right away if there's something." webber said who was sitting right beside you.

"i'm fine dr. webber, i slept on an on-call room earlier." you explained, leaning back on the chair.

"but, you need to take care of yourself and the baby–" callie spoke. "callie, i–we're fine. our priority now is our people who's stuck somewhere." with that they dropped and the room went back in silence.

"are you sure? i can be subbed out so i can come with you." he asked you as you helped him prepare.

"i want to see my kid."

"i promise i'll send a picture. with a video, right away." sending him off with a kiss.

"y/n!"

"y/n!"

"wha-what?" you were brought back to reality when callie started to shake your shoulders.

"they found them. they finally found them..." hugging each other, owen instructed that the both of you should wait at the hospital and prepare for them coming.

you prayed that they were found unscathed.

the wait for the owen's update was killing you. still sitting and waiting inside the conference room, callie suddenly came in, phone in her hand.

"y/n..."

"no...callie i–"

"mark's... mark isn't in a good condition right now. a-and hunt's trying to bring them all here."

"arizona? is she fine?" the both of you now have tears coming out. "she–her leg has a pretty bad infection."

silence filled the room again.

"can't we fly there to see them now?" trying to compose yourself with all the information you learned about your people.

after a few days of waiting, you finally saw them again.

you never left mark's side. even when he needed surgery, you watched him from the gallery.

it's been a week and you were never seen outside, besides sitting down on mark's bed side. you couldn't let him out of your sight. you kept thinking that even if you take one step out of his room, you'd loose him.

it wasn't until a few days later that derek somehow convinced you to go home and rest up and told you how would mark act if he saw you like that especially when you're now carrying his child. getting sleep on your bed was great but it feels so big when you're the only one laying.

"god. mark please come back." hugging his pillow before dozing off.

you were woken up by the endless knocking on your door. still clad in your pajamas, you opened to see jackson, catching his breath.

"it-it's mark."

"n-no..." you started to get frantic, tears running down your cheeks.

"no y/n! he's awake."

the both of you rushed back to the hospital. praying that his recovery would be speedy. so the both of you could spend your lives the way you used to.

"there's my y/n! where you've been?" he spoke the minute he saw you. you ran to his side, still crying. "i'd really hate you if you left me alone, mark."

you spent the whole day by his side, talking endlessly about how he's going to decorate the nursery and how sofia would grow up close to her sibling.

but of course you can't hold off your patients for too long. "you can go, babe. i won't go anywhere." convincing you to do your work and by the time you get back, he's still pretty much alive and smiling.

"and baby, if you can sneak in some tacos they sell across the street, it would be perfect." mark said winking at you as you took one more glance at him. making your way through the halls and making an intern get the tacos mark asked for.

you were getting those glances. the ‘we are sorry about what happened to your husband’ kind of glances. then you overheard some of the staff nurses saying that it's only ‘the surge.’ that it's the last bit of energy mark has on his body. you shrugged it off, trying not to think about what words were traveling around. even callie told you about it and supported you that this is the start of mark's road to his recovery.

unfortunately, you got caught up to an emergency surgery and you let the intern bring mark his tacos because he does not like it cold.

when you were done with your surgery, derek and meredith was waiting for you by the scrub sinks.

"y/n, mark he--we had to intubate him and he's now in a coma."

"he w-was fine before i left. h-how can he be in a coma derek?"

"mer?"

"y/n, they did everything that they could but–"

"no. he isn't gone. he-he'll be back." sobbing in meredith's arm.

richard told you about mark's wishes. 30 days. he wanted to be let go after 30 days. you wanted to change that, but he indicated, no one can change his wishes. even you.

breathe deep, breathe clear

know that I'm here, know that I'm here

waiting

spent most of your days looking at mark. looking for any signs of consciousness.

"hey. just got off from my doctor's appointment." taking out a picture of the ultrasound.

"we're having a little boy..."

"i'd really like it if he and sofia would grow up with you." breaking down on his side.

i'll see you soon, i'll see you soon

two weeks had passed. there are still no signs of improvement.

"this is getting too hard to watch." alex said watching you with mark. he and meredith were about to get you out, but bailey stopped them. "that woman is grieving. let her be. as long as she still takes care of herself, we'll let her be."

you only step out of his room when you need a change of clothes or when callie's going to sit with him.

days passed by, it's the thirtieth day. dreading the day. you can't bear to see them remove mark from the ventilators and machines.

the time was getting closer and closer, you were nowhere to be seen.

"y/n's coming right?" jackson whispered to bailey.

"should we send someone to find her?" replying to jackson.

it was almost time and still, you were nowhere to be found. richard said that you'll be back when you're ready.

so here you are, at the rooftop of your apartment where you could perfectly see the hospital. you were preparing for this day and you were still not ready to let him go. you checked the time, knowing that by this time they already removed him from the machines.

waiting for a few minutes for a call that mark miraculously had woken up and but the only update you got is nothing.

"let's go see daddy one more time?" rubbing your small bump and making your way back to the hospital.

you've reached where mark was. stepping inside, derek gave his sit to you.

you sat with him and callie, just waiting.

"c-could i be alone with him for a minute?" derek and callie agreed and left the room.

grasping mark's hand and leaning into it, memorizing every lines on his face, hoping he wouldn't fade from your memories.

"hey...remember that time we went out to check out the new coffee shop my friend started?"

"well, we were in a band in highschool and we used to write our own songs. so, i-we made this song for you..."

"i imagined this singing to you in our living room and with my guitar though..."

How could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine?

How could I live before?

How could I have been so blind?

You opened up my eyes

You opened up my eyes

holding his hands tighter and taking a seat on his bed, you started singing for him, only him.

Hold fast hope

All your love is all I've ever known

How could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine?

How could I live before?

How could I have been so blind?

You opened up my eyes

You opened up my eyes

ending your song, you still have that bit of hope that he'll open his eyes.

"god. i love you so much mark… a-and i promise that'll i'll... i'll make sure our son will grow up to know you and love you."

standing up by his side, you kissed his forehead. whispering to his ears. "it's okay... i'm going to be fine. you can go now, mark."

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 6 – Everything Happens in Its Own and Usually Most Inconvenient Possible Time

Chapter 1     Chapter 5

The gala was going better than anticipated.  Despite feeling like she stuck out like weed in a field of flowers, things seemed to be going well.  Marinette had talked with more people than she could remember and they all seemed to walk away happily and interested in her work except for a few pompous assholes who couldn’t keep their eyes off her growing chest.  Admittedly, she was showing more cleavage than she anticipated, but she was blaming that on the baby that was enlarging her chest already.

Luckily, she had Adrien to watch out for her and keep them from doing anything more than just look. More importantly, Tim seemed impressed with her designs for the gala and could pick out the outfits that were hers. That was two big checks for the night. The rest of her life might be going to hell, but at least this night was going smoothly.

Whereas she felt like she was an imposter in the ranks, Adrien seemed to blend into the crowd seamlessly. Laughing sensibly at the right times, sharing knowing looks that confused Marinette with the other party goers, smiling politely at the right bad jokes.  He led her to the right people to get to know and whispered in her ear the right things to say to them.

She watched Adrien flourish and felt a twinge of guilt.  This was the product of his dad.  She was benefitting from Gabriel’s abuse toward Adrien.  She grabbed Adrien’s arm to get his attention and looked up at him with sad eyes.  He gave her a soft smile and excused them politely from the conversation they were in. “It’s okay, Mari.  I’m okay,” he assured her.  He looked back out to the crowd.

“How about a fun one next?” he urged her.  

Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile and nodded.  If he could do this then so could she.  He was doing this for her.  She could hold up her end.  She nodded and smiled politely at people as she passed.  One woman lit up at her so Marinette stopped to talk to her, letting Adrien continue on without her.  After a very amusing conversation with a breath of fresh air named Selina Kyle, Marinette searched for Adrien in the crowd.  Luckily, he hadn’t wandered too far away.  She caught his attention and he turned to her with a wide smile.

“And this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette, this is Richard Grayson.”

Marinette looked over to the new man, still trying to keep all the names of people she had met already. There were too many names.  There was no way she was going to remember this new person’s name.  She looked in the new man’s eyes… familiar eyes and a familiar but strained smile. Why were those eyes familiar? “Fuck…” Marinette let out before she could stop herself.

Adrien froze.  Richard froze.  That name wasn’t right.  That definitely wasn’t the name he had given her.  Did he give her a fake name?  

“Uh, hi.” Dick offered with a strained smile.  “It’s nice to meet you. Dick Grayson.”  He wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but if she was in a relationship with Adrien, he wasn’t going to intentionally destroy it despite the twinge in his heart. That would explain the hasty exit from his apartment though.

“He is Bruce Wayne’s son,” Adrien gently reminded her, “Tim’s brother.”  

“Fuck!” Marinette groaned out louder. Tears were starting to appear in her eyes.  This could not be happening.  Not here.  Not now. She was not prepared for this conversation.  She was supposed to be networking for her job, for the partnership and her store. She did not have time for this!  Why now.  Why after all their searching and attempts to retrace her steps did it have to happen now?

He was Tim’s brother and Bruce Wayne’s son.  One of, if not the richest man in the world and the current holder of her exclusive contract.  Dick was going to hate her.  He was going to think she trapped him into this.  He was going to think she was a manipulative bitch who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children and take the baby away and never let her see it.  She would only get to see him or her or them whenever Richard took them out in public.  The baby was going to get a new mother and would call her ‘Maman’.  And what if that new mom didn’t like having a stepchild?  What if she didn’t love them like they deserved?  What if they thought Marinette didn’t want them?

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked quietly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marinette exclaimed shaking her hands to release anxiety.  She could no longer breathe and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes.

“Mari?” Adrien looked between Marinette and Richard a few times before a realization set in.  “Oh my God.  He said his name was Dick.  It’s him! It’s ladybug shirt guy!” He said with a smile.  “We found him!  I’m telling Chloe.  She is going to die.”

“No!” Marinette jumped at him to grab his phone, attracting the attention of the people around them. But at this point, Marinette no longer cared.  She had more important things to focus on.

“Well, I have more mingling to do and you,” he pushed Marinette toward Dick hard enough for her to stumble and Dick to reach out and steady her, “have some talking to do.  Good luck.  I won’t go too far.  Let me know if you need me… for anything...”  He looked at Marinette sincerely with his last statement before giving Dick a less friendly look.  “… anything at all.”

Marinette looked up at Dick through her lashes.  Her fear was radiating out of her and it made Dick want to wrap her up and hold her until she smiled.  “How… how have you been?”

Marinette looked around them noticing now close everyone was and a few people who were leaning back expressly to eavesdrop.  She eyed them warily and responded loudly enough for them to hear, “We haven’t caught up in a bit.  Let’s go somewhere and talk where the music isn’t so loud.”

Dick followed her eyes and nodded, leading her out of the ballroom and into the closed section of the manor.  He could feel the apprehension as she walked, making him nervous as well.  He didn’t know what was about to happen but he could tell it was significant.  He just didn’t know if it was good significant or bad significant.

“We should be good here. Nobody but family is allowed back here.” He looked around anxiously as if to confirm, but really it was just something for him to do, something to focus on besides her.  “I was hoping to talk to you after… after that night but realized I didn’t get your number.  I tried going back to the club to look for you, but...”

“It closed.  Yeah… I tried going back to the club, too.” Dick brightened up at that.  She had searched for him too.  It wasn’t just him that wanted to try for something more.  “I wanted to maybe just show up at your door, but I think I was still drunk when I left and…,” she scrunched up her face in uncertainty, “I saw all the weapons on the counter and when I heard you waking up in the bedroom, I just ran.  I didn’t pay attention to where I was.  And then I thought about the weapons and thought… maybe I shouldn’t.”

The realization hit Dick and he cursed under his breath.  He was going to kill Jason.  “My brother is paranoid, Jason not Tim, who you apparently know.  Living in Gotham is bad enough but he… we get targeted a lot so he… those were his weapons, not mine.  I swear.  None of them were mine and they normally aren’t even there, I just wouldn’t let them take them to the club,” he rushed out to try to assure her.  

Her eyes searched his. He held his breath praying she found what she was looking for, or not finding it, depending on the question she was trying to answer.  Whichever answer let him talk to her again, he hoped she found it.  After a few moments, she must have found some answer because she gave him a weak smile and nodded slightly.  Dick let out the breath he had been holding.  She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Dick would take it. He could work with it if she gave him a chance.  He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  Now he had a chance, what was he going to do with it?  “So… how have you been?”

“Pregnant,” Marinette answered quickly, instantly regretting not saying it more sensitively, easing him into the realization.  She had freaked out, it stood to reason that he would as well.

Dick’s eyes widened in shock and his breath shortened.  He looked down to her belly and back up to her face.  A look of panic was plastered on his face.  He was not ready.  How did it even happen?  He thought they had used precautions.  And he had provided the condom and put it on so it wasn’t as though she could have sabotaged anything.  Holy shit! He was going to be a dad.  How was he going to balance that?  How was he going to be a dad and Nightwing? Shit!  He couldn’t take care of himself.  How was he supposed to take care of a child?  He was pretty sure they ate more than cereal.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette rushed out seeing his whole body going into shock.  “I’m so very, very sorry!  I swear I don’t expect anything.  I don’t… I didn’t… This wasn’t on purpose.  I swear!  I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.” Tears were now freely falling down her cheeks and marring her dress.  Thank God she had waterproof mascara but the water stains were still making their mark.

“How…”

She chuckled mirthlessly. “Did you know semen leaks out before the… end?  Cuz’ I didn’t.” She wiped tears away as she spoke.  “Or rather I did, I just didn’t think it was enough to do anything.  But, if you’re truly lucky, that’s enough.  So if you wait to put a condom on until just before… the end, you can still get pregnant.”

“And you… you’re sure…” He didn’t know how to ask the question tactfully.

She drew a sharp breath and looked down wiping away a few more tears.  “Yeah.  I… I broke up with my boyfriend a little under a year ago.  There… um… there hasn’t been anyone else since then.”  

He nodded dumbly.  That was pretty conclusive.  Unless there was a sudden case of immaculate conception going on, that was his baby.  “Okay.”

She turned her eyes to him, her expression somber.  “I didn’t… I don’t expect you to do anything, not participation, not child support, nothing. I just… I thought you deserved to know even if you don’t want to be involved and I understand if this is too much for you.”

Dick looked up at her in surprise.  She was giving him an out.  She wasn’t expecting him to be a dad and help take care of them.  But for some reason, that realization only made his heart clench tighter.  Did he want an out?  Did he want to miss out on his child’s upbringing?  All of their firsts?  Their first step.  Their first summersault.  Their first word.  Their first laugh.  Their first breath.  

He didn’t.  He didn’t want to miss out on those things.  He pulled himself out of his spiral to see Marinette starting to turn away to leave.  He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far away and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly.  “I want to be involved.  I want to be there.  I want to help.”  She froze for a few seconds before hugging him back just as strongly.  Her crying increased in his arms and he held her through it.  He wouldn’t let her go through any part of this alone, not anymore.

“I don’t know what you need, but I want to help provide it for you and… and our baby,” he said gently, pulling away just enough to wipe away her tears.  

She nodded at him, turning her eyes up to match his.  Dick felt his chest tighten.  Her eyes were glassy with tears but still gorgeous and captivating.  He moved the hand wiping the tears to cup her face. His thumb gently stroked her cheek. He leaned down toward her but her hand clasped over her lips before his lips could reach them, blocking his way. Her eyes bugged out and she ran to the trash can before throwing up.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, collapsed on the floor next to the trash can.  “And morning sickness has officially begun.  And it’s early.  Just so much luck.”  She looked up at him with an apologetic smile.  “Sorry you had to see that.”

Dick chuckled lightly, “Well, I did want to be there for all the firsts.  Come on,” he gently grabbed her hands to help her up, “let’s get you some water to rinse out your mouth and cleaned up a bit.  If you want to stay, I’d love to escort you around.  If you’d like to go home and rest, I’d love to take you home.  If you want to go somewhere and talk, I’d love to take you wherever you want.  But either way, can I get your phone number… and last name?  I want to help figure things out with you.  Maybe… if you’re interested… maybe go on a first date?  If you want to try for a relationship…. I mean… I understand if you don’t want to risk…”  

His stuttering cut off when she started giggling.  He looked up to match her eyes, a look of hope finally finding their way back into them. “I would really like that, too. And it’s Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  It’s nice to officially meet you, Dick Grayson.”

Chapter 7

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje

[endlessly-cursed]

Papa’s Princess [Blyle one-shot]

Author’s Notes: 

Gasp! Not me writing instead of studying Latin... and the rest of my exams! Anyways, here’s Blyle fluff :D 

English is not my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes! 

Lyle Astor belongs to the bad influence lovely @cursebreakerfarrier​ ! 

Please let me know if you want to be tagged on any of my writing! 

Summary: Blanche gives birth to her third child, and Lyle couldn’t be more eager to meet her. 

Word Count: 1.1k 

Reading Time: 4 minutes 

Blanche Astor had been giving birth to her third child for nearly fourteen hours. Lionel Astor knew he should be used to it by now, but moments as tense as this one, the excruciatingly long wait was something that never failed to make him nervous. 

His two sons, Vincent and Richard, were in the music room, playing a soft tune with their uncle Philip. He had been a pillar to him and Blanche, and he was thankful that he had his support. 

An occasional cry of pain would startle Lyle, who wanted to be there, but the midwife and Mrs. Dubois had made clear that men were not allowed in the birthing room. He had been pacing through the door for the good part of the birth. His mother-in-law had insisted that he should sit down with his sons and have a glass of scotch, but as the man of the house and father of the child, he felt entitled to do as he pleased in his house. 

The door opened and his head whipped rapidly to where the assistant of the accoucheur went for probably more dry towels and a glass of water for the mother. He decided to check on his sons, who were laughing at something amusing Philip was telling them. His eldest, Vincent Robert, looked at him. He was now a boy of eight, but he was as savvy and perceptive as his mother “I fear for Mama too, but uncle Philip says we must have faith in her strength.” 

He sighed and nodded, patting affectionally his son’s head “You prove to be as wise as your mother, my boy.” 

He smiled at him, his blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother and coiled hair on him. His youngest, Richard Florian, who was six, was trying to play something on the piano, a gift courtesy of the Lady Gray for their nuptials. He patted his shoulder and kissed his head, earning a giggle from him. 

He sat and joined the riveting conversation, laughing and enjoying this time with his sons when Mrs. Dubois, Philip’s wife, Adrienne, smiled at Lyle and beckoned her to come with her. As they walked, he asked, “I trust my wife didn’t have an arduous childbirth?” 

The redheaded nodded “It was rough at first, but after some exercises and medicines of the midwife, she could overcome the pain. She asked for you the whole time.” 

He looked down with a small smile. He took a deep breath and entered the room, where Blanche, despite being all sweaty and tired, looked as beautiful as ever. She smiled at him “Come, Lyle. It’s a girl.” 

His eyes went wide and a wide smile formed “A daughter?” 

He sat beside her, the small baby fussing and her eyes closed, sucking on her thumb. She had her mother’s hair. In fact, she favored her mother enormously. Blanche passed the bundle to him and he caught her gingerly, feeling her warmth and how small she was “Hello, beautiful.” He kissed her little forehead, a thing that made her coo and kick gently her feet, a thing that earned a laugh from him, his eyes wet with emotion. His baby was safe, and she was a girl! The most beautiful baby girl from the most beautiful woman his eyes ever beheld “I love her already.” 

Blanche kissed his cheek “She loves you too.” 

She slept peacefully on his arms, and he settled her on the crib, with the blanket Blanche had been sewing from the moment she knew she was to have another child. Her Hufflepuff friends came to congratulate the couple and marvel at such a beautiful baby. They had decided to name her Melissa, with the nickname Missy, except Richard, who called her Melly, but he didn’t mind. 

Melissa proved to have her mother’s temper and attitude, but also her gentleness and sense of humor, as well as his love for the simple things. He’d often read her the classic poetry and sing with her at the piano. She had inherited one thing from him: his eyes. 

The boys already adored their sister, and Melissa had turned into Lionel’s favorite person in the world; he spoiled her like no other and she seemed to prefer his company than her mother’s, thing that Blanche teasingly complained about. She also seemed to like to tease him as well, and his sons had allied with their mother to prank him. 

When she said her first word, Lyle was overjoyed: she had said, Papa! Blanche couldn’t stop teasing him about being Papa’s little princess, a thing that made him proud. 

One night, while Blanche breastfed their daughter while their sons slept, he stood on the doorframe as he observed her sing a lullaby, her eyelids starting to close. He approached slowly and offered her some warm milk. She always had an unquenchable thirst after breastfeeding, and yet always forgot about it. But Lionel did not. 

“There’s your drink, darling.” 

The moment Melissa heard her father’s voice, her little head swiveled to look at him, and Blanche grimaced when she took her nipple with him. He made a face and kissed his wife’s head as an apology “Sorry. I did not know she’d do that.” 

As Missy cooed, demanding her father’s attention—which he gladly granted—she laughed “Papa’s girl.” 

He smiled proudly, his chest puffing as he cradled his princess, who got bigger and more beautiful by the day “She missed me as I missed her. Am I right, my beautiful princess?” He asked teasingly, a thing that made his daughter squeal. He kissed her cheek, earning a giggle as he started to rock her, her hand firmly gripping the lapels of his shirt, her energy dropping by the minute. 

After some minutes, he gently placed her on the crib with the lovey she already loved and he and Blanche quietly slipped the nursery, careful not to step on anything. They finally reached the master bedroom and Blanche kissed his cheek “Have I mentioned how much I love seeing you with our Missy?” 

He spun her around to face her and stared at her lovingly “Give yourself some credit, my love. You too are incredible with her.” 

She smiled at him, and his heart fluttered at such a beautiful sight and she tiptoed to have more leverage when kissing him “You know what it’d be incredible? Catch up with my husband. I haven’t seen you around since Missy was born.” 

He smiled mischievously and lifted her with ease “As you wish, Mrs. Astor.” She giggled before kissing him again, settling her down the bed, incredibly, utterly happy.

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X16

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I really liked this episode! I loved the scenes between Meredith and Bailey and Meredith with her kids. So precious! I think Meredith is the perfect person to take over the residency program now that Richard has too many jobs as Bailey says! I think she is really going to shine in this new role. In the past I thought her and Alex might wind up running the hospital with him as Chief of Surgery and her as Residency Director. While that won't happen because Justin Chambers' exit, I think it will be great to see Meredith step up and take on the role. Ultimately, I want to see her operate again and be a badass, but since she’s still recovering, I think having Meredith take this on while she recovers from COVID is a great idea.  

I’m glad that we got to see Maggie and Winston disagree on something and work through it in this episode. While I think Winston did overreact a bit when Maggie was upset and a bit reluctant about the wedding planning and said that everything felt like a compromise I'm glad that they showed the two of them disagreeing and working through it because up until now they've been portrayed as the perfect couple. I loved the scene where Maggie and Winston talked about the wedding and then it was revealed that Maggie had arranged for her Dad and Winston’s Grandmother to fly in for the wedding. That was very sweet and they got the actor that previously played her Dad back!

I also really liked the patient that Maggie, Helm, and Richard treated. I felt so bad for her when she told them that her husband had died and her dog had ran away and that she wasn’t good with people. I suspected she was pretending early on because of her loneliness. I was so sad about the missing dog for the whole episode and I was ecstatic when they found him! I’m more of a cat than a dog person, but pets are family. I am also glad that we got to learn more about Helm in this episode and that she appears to have left her Meredith obsession behind. That was funny the first few times they brought it up, but then it just got weird and annoying.

Especially after both CeCe the matchmaker and Carina talked to Helm about it and told her she needed to move on and find someone that could love her back and then she went right back to being obsessed with her. That’s been her whole personality for the past three seasons. Now in this episode we learn that she likes to cook, that she makes a mess when she cooks, and that she likes to watch the news. I think Helm moving in with Levi and Jo is a good thing, but he definitely should have cleared it with Jo first and they for sure need a bigger place.

I really liked the scene with Link and Jo. I like that he called her out on the fact that she obviously wanted to adopt Luna and told her she should stop doubting herself. I was surprised and disappointed that Jo’s adoption application was denied. She's clearly formed a bond with Luna and she was ready to have kids with Alex prior to his departure and she was close to Val prior to her death. I’m curious as to why her application was denied and why she failed the background check. I hope we get a follow up to that because she would be a great Mom to Luna and I want to know what happened there.

When we found that out my first thought was, “That’s illegal!” because here in Canada and in Ontario specifically to the best of my knowledge you can’t discriminate against someone and reject their adoption or foster application because they are a single parent, have had mental health issues in the past, stole a car while homeless or lived under an assumed name while fleeing domestic violence provided they meet the other criteria such as being able to provide a safe loving home and can prove that they are financially stable and have a good support network in place.

I was confused as first, but then my friend Amy and I were talking about it and I realized that I was applying my own context to another situation. Having the right to adopt and not be discriminated against is something that the women’s, gay rights, and disability rights movements here in Canada have fought very hard for. A lot of changes were enacted in the 2000’s and 2010’s to make it easier for people from all walks of life to adopt and foster. In fact, in many cases social services will look for prospective parents who share a child’s background or history because they will be able to relate to the child in a way that a parent without that experience might not be able to.

That’s not to say that everything is perfect and that discrimination and unfair treatment doesn’t happen. It does. People can be sneaky about it. But you do have recourse here. You would be able to contest the discrimination. I’m not familiar with adoption laws and policies for Washington State where the show is set so it’s possible that this kind of discrimination may still be legal there or there may not be specific policies addressing it. If anyone does know I would love to know more as what I’m saying is based on the experiences of people that I know here in Ontario. I do think that Jo will eventually get custody of Luna. They've spent a bunch of time setting this up and dropping hints about this storyline so it would feel hollow to have it end like this. It would also put Jo back in a dark place which she just got out of for the umpteenth time.

I’m interested to see where they go with Amelia and Link’s storyline around him wanting more children and Amelia not wanting anymore. Couples getting together and then realizing at a later point that they feel differently about having children or having more children in this case is a real thing that happens. Amelia and Link started off as casual sex partners which progressed into something more serious when Amelia found out she was pregnant. They've become this beautiful family and it turns out they are a great match, but because they didn't start out with marriage and kids in mind there are bridges that they have to cross at some point. I'm glad that Link is voicing his desire to have more kids down the road now so that they can talk about it.

I totally get why Amelia doesn't want more kids. After what happened with Christopher and Ryan and then Owen, Betty, and Leo and then with Meredith's kids I get why Amelia doesn't want more children. It's a lot of work, she's been through a lot, and getting overwhelmed could impact her sobriety. Link is a good guy and way more sensitive around this topic that Owen ever was so my hope is that they'll talk it out, Amelia will share her concerns, Link will understand, and he'll fulfill that need for more kids by spending more time with Leo or Meredith's kids.

Also real talk, Owen was an absolute asshole to Cristina and Amelia when they didn’t want kids and straight up said that there was something wrong with them because they didn’t want to be with something who treated them poorly and kept trying to force them to have kids that they didn’t want. While it’s great that he gets it now and was able to offer some words of wisdom to Amelia in this episode and be supportive it doesn’t make up for or change the fact that he was god awful to both of his ex-wives because they didn’t want kids and he did. He knew Cristina didn’t want kids long before they got married and he married Amelia without ever talking about his desire to have children and just assumed she wanted that too.

He should really call Cristina and apologize because what the hell? I think it’s the difference between perception and experience. Before when he wanted kids but didn’t have any he was in love the idea and couldn’t understand someone not wanting that. Now that he has two kids he realizes how much work that is and why someone might not want that especially if they are dealing with other issues that could be impacted by having more children. I really enjoyed the patient storylines this week. I had previously read a study about what Amelia is working on and how doctors and scientists have now determined that there are two types of patients who appear brain dead. 

The kind that actually are where their body is still alive but no one’s home and the kind we see in this episode where their body is still alive and they are still in there, but can’t communicate in traditional ways, but can communicate through thinking about different things to answer yes or no questions. There is a special kind of machine that is needed to scan for this and they are expensive but they’ve proven that hospitals make the costs back within a year because the machines allow them to determine which patients are actually brain dead and which can still make decisions and answer questions about their care.

Something I didn’t like about this episode was that Levi chose Nico over Dr. Mason Post the hot Vaccine Doctor. I was really rooting for them to get together and for him to start something new with someone who might actually treat him well and I was so freaking disappointed wand pissed off when Levi showed up at Nico’s place and got back together with him instead of going over to Mason’s. I’m Team Mason all the way! He's a gem. He's attractive, funny, smart, direct, and kind. He's everything Levi deserves in a partner after the nonsense Nico has put him through.

I liked Nico and Levi when they first got together, but after Nico revealed that he lied about being out to his parents their relationship went downhill fast. He's treated Levi like crap ever since and his one-time apology doesn't fix that or do anything to address the way he's acted or fix his and Levi's relationship problems. I hope Mason returns next season, Levi winds up with him, and Nico goes off to work for the Mariners as he was supposed to originally.

My only other complaint is that Meredith and Hayes didn't have any scenes together this week, but it looks like they'll have scenes in the finale so I'm happy about that. My favourite moment of the episode was when Amelia told Owen that Tom had moved to Boston to help Jackson with the changes he wanted to make and Owen thinking that he had been fired said that he hated that there was one more thing he had to like and respect about the guy. I'm not an Owen fan in general, but that line cracked me up! I’m really looking forward to the finale! I’m excited that based on next week’s promo Meredith and Hayes will have scenes together and hopefully we’ll be getting some movement on the world's slowest moving slow burn storyline!

I swear to god glaciers move faster! People have gotten engaged, broken up, gotten back together, and moved to Boston in the time that Meredith was on that beach while Hayes worried about her from afar. So, I'm excited for that. I'm also excited for Maggie and Winston's wedding and to know why her Dad and his Grandmother are objecting. I hope to see Jo adopt Luna and I'd love to see some father-daughter scenes with Richard and Meredith.

Until next time!

[innocent-chris-evans-slut]

Bi(e)tter Life - Part One

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

Bitter Life - Chapter One 

Steve Rogers x enhanced!Reader 

Word Count: 1,5k

Type: 

Summary: Steve Rogers is determined to take down all the HYDRA agents still operating. Among them, he knows there is his childhood best friend, Bucky, but he still doesn’t know he isn’t the only person from his past coming back to life. 

Warning(s): mention of war, blood

Intro

Has anyone ever asked himself what made Steve Rogers so bitter towards life, up to the point that, after being brought back from the ice, he never allowed himself to get involved with someone?

During the war he had lost everyone he truly cared about: his best friend, his girl, and someone he didn’t know he would miss that much also seventy years later.

After the battle with Ultron, almost everything came back to normality. Tony Stark went back to take care of the Stark Industries with Pepper, leaving the Avengers Compound to Steve, Natasha and the recruits -which had been already labeled as the ‘New Avengers’.

Although she didn’t want anybody to know it, especially Steve, Natasha had been searching the remaining agents working for HYDRA. She had been able to put down two bases alone and kill those who were trying to escape. Though she came across some documents which Steve would have read.

That’s why that morning she woke up early and, after a one-hour-long work out, she went straight to the Captain’s office with the papers in her hands.

“Good morning, Steve.”

“’Morning, Natasha”, he didn’t bother to raise his eyes from the computer screen, “Do you need my help?”

The red-haired girl sat down in front of him and handed him the papers she was taking with her, “You should have a look”. Natasha stayed there in silence as Steve read all the information about new HYDRA’s targets.

He wasn’t surprised to find a lot of names belonging to ex SHIELD agents. What hurt him was to read Bucky’s name and acknowledge how dangerous he was.

“Why is this name blanked?”

Steve was referring to a hidden name, though a description wasn’t missing: potentially dangerous, enhanced individual, can control elemental elements.

“Do we know anything else about them?” everything else wasn’t important anymore to the Captain. His attention was completely on finding the targets -in particular the ‘enhanced individual’.

1945, August 5th

“Richard, do you copy? Richard!”

You were desperately trying to call your friend through the walkie-talkie you had stolen from the men you were escaping from, but he didn’t answer to you.

You tried another couple of times to call his name, but he never answered. You were starting to get worried and for a moment you thought about going back inside and rescuing him, then you heard a bang coming from the small object next to you and you jumped, scared.

“Richard!” you called again, but nothing came from the other end of the receptacle. You made your mind, and you were about to head back inside, when someone called your name.

“We know where to find you, Agent 749. We’re coming for you.”

You hang up, threw the receiver among the trees in the forest and began to run away from the cave you’d found refuge. You didn’t forget to ‘clean’ the place and redirect their researches towards the opposite direction you were headed.

You had been running for hours, probably days, when you stopped somewhere in the forest, near to a river. Though you were hidden in the woods, you could clearly hear noises characteristic of a city. From the map in your hands, you could state you were near to Hiroshima. The sun was setting, so you decided to stop where the woods were thicker -where hopefully no one would have found you.

You placed your backpack on the grass and started building the tent in which you were supposed to sleep that night. Once you were done, you set your sleeping bag on the ground and sat on it, after having closed the door of the tent.

You looked down at your legs and you noticed you were bleeding. Very much. You picked up your first aid kit and disinfected the wound, then you stitched it. Once you were done, you put everything away and focused on your ‘dinner’: a can of tuna and an apple gathered from a tree. While eating, you kept staring at your backpack -placed next to the entrance of the tent- and at all the pins on it.

When you were a child, you liked collecting pins with your friends. You would find them on the floor, in pubs where, probably, former soldiers had left them, and, your favorite place, in the park. You used to spend the entire day in the park with your best friends, having picnics, playing with the ball, and doing a lot of stupid things.

The States. Your homeland and where you wished you could go back instantly. You missed your family, your house, your friends -and they missed you too-, but going back home would have costed your life, and probably theirs, too.

You remembered clearly the night you escaped from the prison you were caged in, and almost immediately you understood you couldn’t ever go back to Brooklyn, without the people you were running from knowing you were back. You had also tried to send your family some letters to let them know you were alive and, though your situation wasn’t pleasant, you really wanted them to think that you were okay -and not dead-, but probably they never got them, because you’d never got an answer from them.

With that thought in your mind, you closed your eyes and, even though your spot wasn’t comfortable at all, you fell asleep almost immediately, hoping that the next day would take away all your problems.

It was early in the morning when you got woken up by people screaming. What did you get up all of a sudden was that the screams were too close to you and, checking on the map, you stated that you were far away from the city center.

You got up and made your way out of your tent. When you arrived there the night before, that place was green, full of trees, animals and now that you were looking at it, there was nothing.

The trees were burning. The grass was on fire. The animals were suffocating due to the dense smoke coming from the burning woods. You weren’t doing better; as you tried to breathe in, you coughed really bad and the more you tried it, the more your lungs hurt, and your throat burned. After a minute being exposed to those gases you found it hard to breathe and you fell on your knees. You tried to scream for help at the top of your lungs, but no one could help you.

Then, all of a sudden, you heard an explosion, and everything went black.

You passed out.

Years before

“Guys, I’ve taken my decision. The doctor will better me and you’ll see the results.”

“Steve, why do you wanna do this? You’re perfect the way you are. Bucky and I love you like this”, you tried to convince him, but you knew better than anyone else that no one could have changed his mind -because you were just like him, “Just think about it a little more”.

“I’ve already made my mind, Cherry”, the thin, blonde guy hugged you and placed a kiss on your forehead, “Will you come with me?”

You blinked a couple of times before actually answering his question: of course, you would have loved to go with him. Though you thought you would have needed some kind of support from your other best friend, Bucky, but he was in Europe, fighting the Nazis.

“I will fight in Europe. I will kick Hitler’s ass myself”, Steve sat down on a bench and ‘forced’ you to do the same, “Once the war will be over, and the U.S. will have won, I’ll come back together with Bucky and we will be together again”.

The day after you woke up really early in order to be next to your best friend. He repeatedly told you that you would have been reserved a special seat among representatives from all countries.

That morning Ms. Peggy Carter came to pick you up from your homes and, after having explained you what was going to happen to your friend, tried to get you at ease. Once you arrived, you were left alone while Ms. Carter prepared Steve for the procedure together with the doctor and another man, you recognized being Mr. Stark -the brightest mind around the world.

A guard took you upstairs, from where you could have a better view. You were told to sit down between two men and they smiled at you as you entered from the door. When everybody was ready to begin, the German doctor filled Steve with penicillin and then gave him the serum.

Everything happened in less than five minutes; a more solid, tall and muscular version on your childhood friend Steve came out of the pod, then you heard a bang and, afraid of what could happen, you passed out.

ALL MY STORIES:

@thummbelina

@thegetawaywriter

@coffeebooksandfandom

@kiza4

jemzeraion

chris-evans-is-world

ALL CHRIS EVANS:

@stargazingfangirl18

@rororo06

@patzammit

@void-hoechlin

@harrysthiccthighss

[anjuschiffer]

Secret’s Out

Here I am with the next part! Enjoy! :D

By the way, I came up with a series name! 

This is now called To [Not] Be A Bat series!

Will probably make a masterlist once it’s done :)

------

FIRST | PREV

------

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life

Tag: @toodaloo-kangaroo @maribat-is-lifeblood @tis-i-beanbandit

------

“Surprise it took you this long to realize she’s been sneaking out, nonetheless visiting Jason and myself.” Dick casually said, placing down some tea on the table, Bruce simply eyeing it. “You know, I had my fair shares of-“

“She’s not you Dick.” Bruce said, picking up the cup. Cinnamon wafted its way to Bruce’s senses.

“Of course she isn’t. She’s-“

“You grew up with a loving family-“

“So did she.” Dick defended, remembering the file he composed for Marinette. It’s also how he confirmed that Marinette was indeed Bruce’s biological daughter.

“You have a heart.”

“And she doesn’t?” Dick asked, Marinette’s accusations about Bruce being confirmed. He really wasn’t spending anytime with her. Not even as Batman, and that said a lot.

“You were obedient. Satisfied-“

“She’s trying to get close to you.” Dick finally said, trying his best to keep himself composed at the things Bruce finished labeling him as. “You haven’t been allowing her to get to know you.”

Bruce frowned at this, watching Dick drop some sugarcubes into his cup. 

“I’m just trying to-“

“Protect her?” Dick scoffed, motioning at himself. “Look where your protection got us all.”

Bruce’s frown turned into a scowl. 

“She isn’t ready to play Gotham’s game, Dick. It’s not Paris.” Bruce attempted to reason, but knew it wasn’t enough when he heard Dick sigh.

“Then show her. Let her join you-“

“No. Out of the question.” Bruce got up, pacing in the small space he had. 

“And you wonder why she’s acting like this.” Dick said into his tea, missing how Bruce sharply turned to look at Dick.

“Excuse-“

“The more you keep pushing her away-“

“I’m not.” Bruce denied.

“-the more she’s going to be doing things behind your back.” Dick looked at Bruce, his cup making a noise as it was placed onto the coffee table. “Do you want that?”

“Of course not, I-“

“Then stop. Pushing. Her. Away.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “I agree with you; she needs more experience fighting without magic, but her reflexes have been improving since I started training her.“

“You were training her?” Bruce said with narrowed eyes.

“Because you weren’t.” Dick growled. “If you ask me, she’s a better-“

“I expected more from you.” Dick let out a dry laugh. 

“You always did. And I hated it.” Dick’s eyes turned dark, something Bruce rarely saw from his usually happy son. “You expected me to be you.”

“Of course I did. You are my son.” Bruce said, placing his hands on Dick’s shoulders. 

“Sure didn’t feel that way.” Dick said, pushing Bruce away from him. “If anything, you saw me as a tool, as a replacement as your days started to trickle down.” 

“Dick, you know that isn’t-”

“I should’ve known better than to expect you to understand any of this.” Dick muttered, turning to Bruce. “I have patrol in an hour and I want to check on my gear before I go. So please, leave.”

“I’m not leaving until I know where Marinette is. She wasn’t with Jason so-”

“She’s not here.” Dick cut off, walking over to press something under his dining table, a wall exposing a few weapons. “So look for her-”

“Jason said she was here.”

“And you believed him?” Dick asked, picking up his escrima sticks. “Even Tim knows better than to trust Jason wi-” Dick promptly shuts up when Bruce picks up Marinette’s sketchbook that was buried between the sofa cushions.

“She wasn’t here, was she?” Bruce said, still frowning as he ran his fingers over the worn out cover, noticing a ribbon sticking out. Quickly turning to it, his eyes widened. Dick slowly approaches the frozen Bruce, his own eyes filled with shock, Dick grabbing the book and holding it close to his chest. “H-How long was-”

“You forced her to-”

“But you approved of it Richard!” Bruce said, raising his voice into a growl. “She’s a child!” Bruce grabbed Richard by the collar.

“She’s old enough to decide what she wants to do Bruce! And she needed someone who believed in her decision!” Dick defended. “She needed someone to be there to have her back! Someone who gave her the support she needed, something you never gave me nor Jason since the day you met us!” With that, Richard pushed Bruce once again from him, walking out of his own apartment, a duffel bag at his side. 

Bruce plopped onto the sofa, letting out a heavy sigh as he closed his eyes to recall the name on the sketchbook paper.

Ladybird.

Next to it, written in perfect french, a few lists of materials and routines. Routines had covered sparring sessions with Richard, weaponry with Jason and even archery with Roy. Bruce ran his hands through his hair as he saw the maroon and black design for Marinette’s costume, the domino mask haunting him.

But what haunted him the most was the intricate way Marinette had planned on debuting. By teaming up with Red Hood and Nightwing, Marinette was planning on taking down the very person Bruce wanted her far away from... 

Joker.

Fearing the worst, Bruce dashed out of Richard’s apartment, hoping that history wouldn’t repeat itself.

As he got inside his car, Bruce prayed that he would make it in time to stop Marinette.

He couldn’t afford to lose his only daughter, one of his children.

He couldn’t afford to lose one… hell, he wouldn’t be able to bear to go through something like that ever again…

Never again…

Never…

NEXT

[elareine]

ahhhhh!! you doing prompts!! happy easter by the way!~ can it be a rooftop dating? when they both were young? uwu❤

Hey lovely, I assume you mean JayDick, right? This is my first Catlad story. I made them a bit closer in age for this - maybe three years difference. Sorry it too so long! 

I.

“Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Richard?” Alfred puts down his newspaper to glance at the child. He is admittedly far too young for such a title, but Alfred enjoys the way it makes him giggle, so it sticks.

“Can I ask you something?”

The butler’s curiosity grows. It’s not like Dick to check in twice before posing a question. “Of course.”

“If you would want to have a picnic on a rooftop at night, what would you bring?”

For a moment, Alfred is at a loss. It’s a most unusual feeling for him. Then he remembers: Bruce mentioned that Miss Kyle has taken in a ward, as well. The world rights itself. “Is this, perhaps, a meal you are looking to share?”

Dick blushes, but nods.

“In that case, I believe that some of those cookies you so enjoy would do the trick.”

Dick’s eyes light up. “You would show me how to make them?”  

“You wish to make them yourself?” Alfred raises a brow.

“Of course! I want him to like me, and my mother always said that love—” Dick clamps his mouth shut, but Alfred has heard enough.

This deserves genuine consideration. It’s a recipe that has been passed on in the Pennyworth family for generations. Alfred does not relinquish it easily.

Then again, who else is he going to teach it to but to this boy who has brought light back into the manor?

Alfred pushes his chair back and gets up. “Then we should begin now, Master Richard. They need some time to cool down.”

Dick beams. “Awesome!”

The kitchen will look a disaster after this, Alfred just knows. Hopefully, it will be worth it.

II.

Tim Drake is Robin, and he has no idea what he’s doing. It’s okay, though. Batman (Batman) is training him. Alfred is supportive, and Dick is the best. He’s everything Tim ever wanted in a brother, and it takes Tim a few months to see beyond that.

There’s grief in the lines of Dick’s face, the silences between him and Bruce, the way he avoids some patrol routes. Tim can’t fix that, he knows. But—he has to try to make it better, right? That’s what family does?

So he marches up to Dick one day and blurts out, “I have something for you,” before he can change his mind.

Dick smiles. “Yeah?”

“Here.” Tim pulled out the simple black folder from behind his back and opened it for Dick, showing him the single photograph. Then he holds his breath—surely Dick will ask where he got that. He must be angry at this invasion of their privacy.

But Dick just reaches out with trembling fingers, touching the photograph as if it’s something infinitely precious. “This is…”

Tim shot the picture when he’d finally managed to get his hands on some real good long-lens equipment. It shows two boys in their late teens on a rooftop. There’s a plate of cookies between them, and they’re passing a thermos bottle back and forth.  

Tim has other pictures—of them cuddling, Robin in Catlad’s lap, Catlad in Robin’s, them chasing each other through the air… but this is his favorite because they’re not wearing masks, and they’re laughing. He’s never seen two people look so clearly in love without touching.

The picture was taken ten months ago. Robin had already left Gotham to become Blüdhaven’s Nightwing at that point. Batman was going off the rails, just a bit, and Catlad… he was investigating something away from his mom, something that led him to an empty warehouse and a clown.

It must’ve been one of the last times they saw each other, Tim realizes. Maybe the last time.

Dick doesn’t say anything more, not out loud. He takes the folder, holds it close as if Tim’s given him a treasure, and his watery smile says it all.  

III.

The red helmet still feels a bit weird.

Jason doesn’t regret taking his new alias. It distances him a bit from his former family, which wasn’t his intention, but it feels good to take a name that was associated with his killer and turn into something criminals fear. Besides, Selina made sure his outfit is still appropriately tight under the leather jacket.  

The helmet is kind of a necessary addition beyond the play on his name, though. His senses… well, they haven’t been the same since a maniac took a pipe to his head. Also, Jason would really like to mitigate further brain damage, thank you.

All of which is a lot of words to explain why it takes him a full thirty seconds to the plate of cookies in front of the rooftop entrance to his apartment.

Jason doesn’t need to check them for poison. He knows who made them. “Hi, Nightwing.”

There’s a soft laugh, and Dick hops down from the ledge to stand next to him. His movements are so graceful, it makes something in Jason want to scream. “Hi, Jason.”

His first name. He hasn’t heard that in a while. Not since he and Batman got into a rather violent argument over how to deal with Jason’s killer. “What do you want?”

“I thought—” Dick looks uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “I thought we could have a picnic.”

Jason sighs. His movements are heavy, obvious as he opens the door, takes a step inside. He doesn’t need to look at Dick to know that his posture is deflating, that Jason has once again managed to dim that brilliant smile.

It’s kind of worth it, though, for the gobsmacked expression on Dick’s face when Jason steps back outside sans helmet and with a thermo in his hand.

Jason doesn’t kid himself. He’s a long way away from the small, lively boy that first caught Dick’s interest. There’s not much left of himself; certainly not enough for Dick to love. He wasn’t able to say ‘no’ the first time Robin skipped up to him with cookies and a smile, though, and he’s not ready to deny him now.

“Let’s have a picnic, then,” he says quietly.

Dick’s smile is brilliant enough to light this goddamn city by itself. That alone, he thinks, makes it worth it.

[pigtownchronicles]

Chapter 2.6 - Counteroffers and Missing Pieces

Of all the things that Barry had considered that meeting might be, he was left with a result, afterward, that was so far beyond his expectations that by the time he got home, he was sure that it must have been a dream of some sort. A hallucination, perhaps. He checked his wallet twice, but everything was there. He hadn’t given out any personal information that he could recall, but maybe he’d been under some sort of strange influence, and just didn’t remember. Dennis asked him why he was home late, and he came up with some excuse about working late on a deadline for a meeting in the morning that seemed to satisfy him. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure that Dennis particularly cared, beyond the fact that it was a disruption in his routine.

Dinner had already been made, and he ate it alone, since Dennis never waited for him to get home if he was late. He thought again about what he had felt for that moment, under the effect of that dust, the sheer lust for life that had pulsed in his veins, but while he appreciated the sensation, it was not what he wanted, not really. He wanted something more...ephemeral than that. He wanted a husband who would be willing to wait until he got home, who would eat with him, who would ask him about his day and genuinely care about his answers. He wanted a job that gave him a sense of dignity and respect, without feeling like he was being constantly placated with condescension. He felt like everyone around him treated him like a child. He tried to push beyond himself, wondering if he was asking for this. Maybe he was a little childish. A little petulant and unfocused, a little afraid of commitment and authority. But that wasn’t his fault. He’d just never been given a chance to show that he could do it. That he could be the adult in the room. They treated him like a child, which made him want to act like a child, which only reinforced the way they all treated him. A vicious cycle, one he’d been swirling in too long to see the edge, but this was a sword that could cut through all of it. He just wanted respect--and even if he couldn’t get something so immaterial, maybe he could at least get that...promotion.

It seemed like it should be possible to him, given what he’d seen and learned today. The more he thought about it, the more right it sounded, and the more he was willing to accept what he’d seen, if it might mean getting the life he thought he deserved. Dennis asked him if he wanted to join him on his evening constitutional around the neighborhood, and Barry declined. Instead, he went up to his office upstairs, and gave Ian a call. He’d expected him to agree, but instead, Ian gave him a sigh. A familiar sigh, to Barry. It was a sigh people gave him when he’d asked for too much, for something an adult would understand was impossible.

“Well see, now we’re not so much talking about you as a seller, and changing our conversation to that of a buyer,” Ian said.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, now you’re asking for something that’s worth more than what you have to offer, which means it’s going to have to come with a price tag. That’s not a problem, mind you, but to get my hands on something like that--to find someone willing to give it up...It’s not impossible, mind you, just, well, let me quote you something.”

He gave Barry a number that made his guts twist around a bit inside. They were wealthy, sure, but not...like that. “You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“Anyone who could pay that sort of money could already buy the damn respect of people in the first place!”

“You’re not wrong,” Ian said. “There is another possibility.”

“What?”

“If you were to...acquire someone with the sort of qualities that you’re looking for, and then perhaps bring them here, I could see that you get a finder’s fee for the service.”

“I don’t...know if I quite understand what you mean.”

“If you’re asking for this, then you already know someone who has what you desire, don’t you?”

“Hypothetically, yes.”

“Then if you were to bring them to the house, I would be able to process them. You would get what you desire, and I would be able to process the rest into goods to be brokered with others.”

“That’s...I mean, what happens to them?”

“I’m a broker. There’s always a buyer, even for waste product in most situations.”

“I see.”

“Do keep in mind my other offer though, Barry. I do think that you have some prime assets to sell, and you would be quite satisfied with the results, I assure you.”

“I...I’ll let you know.”

“Have a good evening.”

Barry hung up, and considered what Ian had told him. He thought about Richard again. He thought about how everyone was going out on Friday evening. He pushed that away, but each time it did, it came circling back again, and each time, it looked a little more attractive than before.

Meanwhile, Dennis was walking the neighborhood in the pleasant summer evening. It was almost eight and the sun was still shining near the horizon, folks were out on their porches, kids were out in the street chasing each other. It was pleasant. It felt normal, and comforting to him. He waved at the various families he passed, stopping on occasion to catch up, to ask how their gardens were doing, if they had any vacation plans. He worked his way down the street until he reached the house where Kyle lived, and saw Kyle’s father in the garage, working on some project. He gave a wave, and got a scowl back at first, but then a half-hearted wave in return. Dennis figured it would be better to keep walking, but you didn’t change minds without a bit of exposure. “How’s the project going, Eric?” he said.

“Just fine, thanks for asking.”

“Good to hear. Hey, how’s Kyle doing? Barry and I might be taking a week in August for a trip to see our folks, and we’d love him to watch the cat.”

“Why the fuck would I know that that faggot son of mine is up to?” Eric spat back at him, and Dennis looked at him, confused. Had...Kyle told him?

“What...what happened?”

“Moved into the city after he graduated, told us he was gay, that he didn’t want anything to do with us. Haven’t heard from him sense, and don’t fucking want to. At least he had the decency to not make me pay for his fucking college tuition--won’t be getting a dime of my money if I have anything to say about it.”

Dennis took all that in, gave another wave, as Eric went back to his project, and he kept walking, picking up his pace a bit, trying to sort out what he’d just learned. Kyle hadn’t moved out, had he? Hell, just a few days ago, they’d brought him home from the club! Dennis tried to pin down the events, but as he did, they were getting a little foggy and confused. He did remember seeing Kyle in the club with that bear, but...

He got home, went upstairs and found Barry in his office, head in his hands and staring at his phone. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Huh? Sure, what’s up.”

“We...gave Kyle a ride home on Friday, didn’t we?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I swear we did.”

“Dennis, Kyle moved out his parents place a few months ago. We saw him at the club with that older guy, yeah, but...” Barry shrugged, “The kid’s making his own choices now. Nothing we can do about it, you know?”

“I guess,” Dennis said, standing in the doorway, still trying to sort out his own memory. There was something else too, nagging at him. Something that seemed to be missing, another little piece of the puzzle, but one that had mysteriously slipped from the box. “I’m gonna go to bed early, I have a surgery tomorrow.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in a bit,” Barry said.

He heard Dennis go into the bedroom and the shower turn on, and he picked up the phone again, and saw that Ian had replied to his text asking for Hugh’s contact number, and given it to him. He put in the contact, and sent another message to Hugh, and then sat there, anxiously waiting for a reply. He had a hard time taking his own mind on this seriously, but it was the first idea in a very long time that he felt a sense of certainty about. If he wanted people to respect him, then he was going to have to get out of this hole he was in. This was the first time someone had offered him a way out--and he wasn’t going to back away from it, not this time. His days of being treated like a child were over.

***

Want more Pigtown Chronicles? Support me over on my Patreon, and you can get early access to new chapters, along with loads of other content!

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26​

Ask or comment to be on my taglist! Let me know if it’s for a specific fandom(s) or series. Full list is in my bio.

Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

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

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

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

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

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

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

[heyitsani]

Let Down My Guard

Omega!Dick Week Day 2: Reverse!Robins

Word Count: 2926

Rating: Mature-ish

Warnings: Threats of non-con (nothing graphic) and Robincest (obviously)

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Dick’s scent blockers fail him on patrol when he’s out alone and brings a predator his way.  

Notes: Day two and the one story for the week that doesn’t fit the rest of the series.  The non-con-ish scene happens in the very beginning so the entire story is under the cut to avoid triggering anyone who might stumble upon this post.  The ages/codenames of the Robins are as follows:

Damian Wayne: Sparrow 28

Tim Drake: Red Hood 25

Jason Todd: Phoenix 18

Dick Grayson: Robin 16

You can also read this on AO3 here

“Here birdie, birdie, birdie,” the voice called out, chilling Dick to his very bones.  He knew who the man was calling for.  He knew that somehow his scent blockers had stopped working and the dirty alpha had caught his scent.  He also knew he was cornered.  He had nowhere to go and unless one of the Bats answered his distress call soon, he was so very screwed.  Perhaps quite literally.  “I know you’re around here somewhere, birdie.  Can smell you.  Like,” there was a pause and Dick assumed he was taking a deep breath, “like honey and spice.  Do taste as tempting as you smell?”

And that was something the sixteen-year-old had no intention of letting this man find out.

He wished he knew if someone was on their way, but the sharp screech in his ear earlier and told him something had gone wrong with his comm unit and now he was just stuck.  Stuck hoping and praying to a god he didn’t believe in to save him from a fate he had saved so many others from over his years of being Robin.

There was no out for him.  And suddenly Dick to felt weaker than he had ever felt in his life.  Weaker than he had felt watching his parents fall to their deaths those years ago.  A glance above him told him there was no way for him to get to the roof and to safety without his grapple.  And since the snapping line was what had caught the attention of the alpha to begin with, he was stuck.  And he was scared.  And his head and his knee hurt from his fall.

“You might as well just come out from your hiding spot little birdie.  Make it easier on both of us.”  Closing his eyes, Dick tried to pull his scent back in a bit to put the man off just a little longer.  The closeness of his voice was enough to make his hands shake in terror.  “I won’t bite…too hard.”  And Dick could practically see the sneer on the man’s face.

“Is that so?”  Oh, thank god, Damian.  “Perhaps you didn’t get the memo, but that’s not how things go here in Gotham.”  Dick jumped when a shadow jumped down next to him from the roof and immediately, he fell in a defensive crouch.  He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“It’s just me Baby Bird,” the electronic sound of Tim’s voice modifier in his helmet was a bigger comfort than most would have thought, and Dick felt his muscles relax as he threw himself into his older brother’s chest.  There was a click, but instead of trying to find the source of the noise, Dick just buried his face in the armor-plated shirt Tim wore as part of his Red Hood suit.  “Are you hurt?  You smell hurt.”

“Nothing dangerous, just so fucking glad you guys are here,” he muttered into Tim’s chest.  He relaxed further when one of Tim’s arms wrapped around his back and held onto him.  Dick could hear scuffling in the background and a pained yelp, and he knew it was Sparrow taking down the alpha who had put them in this situation.

“Robin,” the edge of Damian’s voice caused him to pull his face away from Tim’s chest and look over at his brother.  “Are you hurt?  Did he…?”  Dick shook his head quickly and though it took a moment, Damian eventually nodded and looked back at the entrance of the alleyway where the alpha had cornered him.  “Hood and I have Robin.  We are heading back to the cave.  Tell Phoenix he’s fine.”

That caught Dick’s attention.  “Why didn’t he come with?”

“Come, Robin.  You shall ride with me.”  Looking from Damian to Tim, Dick frowned.  He was going to demand an answer but stopped when Tim shook his head.  “Robin.”  The sharpness to Damian’s tone caused Dick to flinch.  Rare was the moment when Damian was short with him.

“Fucking hell, Sparrow.  Can’t you see he’s already freaked out enough without you snapping orders at him?”  Tim tightened his arm around Dick and while it wasn’t strange for Damian and Tim to be at odds, it was strange for it to be about Dick specifically. 

He could hear the sigh slip from Damian even though he obviously tried to hide it.  “I am sorry, Robin.  Please, let us get you back to the cave.  There is a very worried and just slightly injured Phoenix desperate to look you over.”

Without saying anything, Dick nodded and pulled away from Tim to follow Damian back to his bike.  Glancing back at his other brother, he watched Tim take out one of his guns and put a bullet in the chamber. 

“Don’t kill him, Hood,” was all the warning that Damian gave Tim before taking Dick’s arm and pulling him out of view of the still whimpering alpha and into the street.  Dick put on the offered helmet and slid onto the motorcycle behind Damian, the engine revving just enough to make Dick wonder if he actually heard the gunshot and resulting shout of pain.

But he decided he didn’t care if Tim had shot the alpha.  If he had tried to do that to someone who could obviously handle themselves (if not in that exact moment), Dick didn’t want to know how many others he had managed to hurt because they couldn’t defend themselves or have someone defend them.

No, instead he focused on tightening his arms around his older brother’s waist, closing his eyes, and letting go of the fear that had caused him to freeze.  He wasn’t sure what it was that had caused him to freak out so suddenly, but there had been something about that alpha.  It hadn’t been the first time one had tried to take something from him by force, but it had been the first time he had frozen so completely.  Never had he ever felt so weak before.  Not even just in a normal fight when the opponent was obviously far superior.  He had always managed to find a way to get himself out of a situation. 

But this had been different.

He shuddered to think of what could have happened if his brothers hadn’t gotten there in time.  What would they have done if they had come even a few minutes later to find him in the clutches of that alpha?  What would Jason have done if he had been violated?  Would he withdraw his intentions?

No, that wasn’t the kind of man Jason was.  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made his intentions clear two years before he could even act on them.  Being eighteen meant Jason could bond legally, but Dick still had two years to go before he was of age.  And though Bruce could have given them permission, he had made it clear that he wouldn’t give his blessing until they were both consenting adults.  Even though he followed that up with stating he approved of the pairing and would happily support it when the time came.

Sapphire eyes opened when he felt the terrain change under the motorcycle, and he found they had pulled into the entrance of the cave.  So, carefully, he pulled the fear scent as far in as he could.  There was nothing he could do about the scent that still clung to his suit, but he could overwhelm with relief at least. 

Hopefully, Jason wouldn’t panic too much.

“Dick!”  Well, there went that hope.

“Honestly, Todd,” Damian reprimanded Jason as he came running up to where Damian brought his motorcycle to a stop.  Dick could see the bandage wrapped around Jason’s forearm and he knew there were probably stitches under it.  “I said he was fine.”

“Forgive me for wanting to check for myself,” Jason shot back, reaching out to help Dick slip out from behind Damian.  Thankfully, the helmet hid the wince of pain on his face when he was back on two feet and the pain in his knee made itself known again.  Dick let Jason remove the helmet and mask, dropping them both to the ground, before he ran his hands down the length of his arms and gripped his hands.  “What happened?  Alfred wouldn’t let me go out with Damian when you sent the beacon.  Are you okay?  Why can I smell you so strongly?”

“I don’t know what happened, but my blockers failed, and the alpha was following me before I realized it.  I was going through Crime Alley when my line snapped, and I think the crash of my fall caught his attention initially.  The blockers failing was just bad luck.” Dick said as Jason pulled him toward the med bay where Alfred was probably waiting to look him over.  He did his best to walk normal despite the sharp pain that shot through his knee with each step.  “I sent the beacon the moment I knew I was going to end up cornered.”

“The animal never got the chance to touch him,” Damian added from where he was following the pair.  “Tim arrived from wherever he was at the same time I did.  I took care of the disgrace of an alpha and Tim went to Richard.”

Jason glanced over the top of Dick’s head with a raised brow.  “Tim let you handle the alpha?”  Dick glanced back in time to see Damian sniff haughtily.  “You promised him he could take care of him if you incapacitated him in order to get Dickie out?”

“I certainly hope that wasn’t the case, Master Damian.  Your father would be greatly disappointed.”  Alfred stood next to one of the beds in the med bay, obviously waiting for Dick.

“Perhaps.  But perhaps not when he hears what that waste of space was planning for his youngest.”  And Damian was probably right.  Even if Dick was no longer a child, Bruce did have the tendency to treat Dick as though he was more precious than air.

Dick watched Alfred consider his oldest brother before the man looked back to Dick and waved him over to the bed.  “Come now, Master Richard.  Take a seat so I can look you over.”  Dick let Jason lead him over to the bed and didn’t complain like he usually would have when Jason lifted him to sit on the bed.  He could smell the distress on the young alpha and knew he needed this.  Dick could be coddled if it meant he stopped smelling so sour.  “Any injuries you wish to make us privy to?”

Thinking over his night, Dick couldn’t recall anything to worry about outside of when his line snapped.  “Maybe a light concussion from my fall?  I didn’t pass out at all, but I think I knocked it on the ground.  And my knee hit pretty hard as well.” 

“Very well.  I will need you to get out of the suit so I can check your knee.  Master Jason, will you please retrieve some more comfortable clothing for Master Richard?”  When Jason looked like he was going to protest, Dick placed a hand on his upper arm and drew Jason’s attention back to him.

“Something from your locker, maybe?”  The pleasure at the suggestion filtered into Jason’s scent and Dick was glad he could manage to get some of the sour distress scent out.  With a quick press of his lips to Dick’s temple, Jason hurried out of the room.

“That was wise,” Alfred commented as he moved closer and began concussion protocol.  Dick focused on the questions and commands as best he could, but his attention kept falling back to Damian who still stood in the doorway with is arms crossed and a dark look on his face.  “Yes, I do believe you have a minor concussion, nothing to be concerned about given your level of alertness.”  Alfred was stepping back as Jason made his way back into the room.

“Do you need help?”  Jason asked quietly when he came up to Dick’s side with a few items, all smelling strongly of Jason and home.  Dick only nodded and held a hand out so Jason would help him down from the bed. 

“Master Damian, you should get out of your own suit and contact your father.  I did not want to worry him without all the details.”  Though it sounded like a request, it was definitely an order and Dick could see the annoyance on Damian’s face without even bothering to read his scent.  But the oldest nodded and left the room.  He was followed by Alfred, to give the pair a bit of privacy Dick was certain.

Instead of letting Jason help him out of his suit, Dick turned and buried his face into the spot of his neck where his scent glands were as he wrapped his arms around Jason’s torso.  “Dickie,” Jason whispered, voice hoarse as he buried his face into Dick’s raven hair.  His arms came up and around Dick, holding on tightly.  The pair let the silence fall between them as they took the moment to comfort each other without words.  But eventually reality came back to them and Dick was pulling back so Jason could help him out of the suit and into the clothes he had brought.

He was just slipping on the t-shirt when Alfred reappeared in the doorway with a tray of food and some water.  “I would appreciate it if you would eat this while I look over your knee,” he explained, setting the tray next to Dick on the bed, giving him a pointed look.  Nodding, he picked up the sandwich and took a bite as Alfred moved to the knee he had left exposed by pushing the loose sweat pant leg up.  The touch was firm, but gentle and just enough that Dick was able to hold back the reaction to the pain that flaired up with the inspection. 

“A sprain,” Alfred told them, grabbing the items needed to wrap it to stabilize the limb.  “A few days rest and you shall be right as rain, young sir.”  Jason visibly relaxed at the diagnosis and Dick sent him a look before turning back to Alfred.

“Crutches?”

“If you would rather be carried everywhere…”  Dick balked at the idea of being treated like a damsel in distress and Jason choked out a laugh.  “Then yes, crutches for at least two days.  We shall check the condition of your knee once we check it again.”  He knew he was pouting, but Dick hated crutches and the limitations they placed on his movement.

“Don’t worry Dickie.  It’s only a couple of days,” Jason tried to comfort him, but Dick just pouted more and Jason let out another laugh.  Dick supposed if Jason took this much glee in the situation then he could suffer through it.  Especially if it made his scent go warm with amusement and joy.

“Fine,” Dick grumbled, finishing off the sandwich before grabbing the water bottle to drain.

“Before you finish that,” Alfred stopped him, getting up from his stool and grabbing a small cup Dick hadn’t noticed before.  But it was one he had seen plenty of times in the past.  Pain pills.  If he didn’t have a headache on top of the knee pain, he probably would have turned them down, but he knew there was no way he would sleep with this headache.  So he accepted the cup and tossed the two white pills back before finishing off the water.  “Now, Master Jason will you help Master Dick up to his room and place a pillow under his knee?  I am going to check in with Master Damian and then I will be up shortly.”

“Sure, Alfie.”  Jason said, holding the hoodie he had also brought in for Dick so the younger could pull it on before they headed up.  “Piggyback or…?”  Dick just rolled his eyes as his head slipped through the neck hole and he pushed his arms into the sleeves. 

“Just pick me up,” Dick said, holding out his arms to wrap around Jason’s neck.  He didn’t say anything else as Jason slipped one arm around Dick’s waist and the other under his knees, lifting him with ease.  The walk to the elevator that would take them up to the manor revealed Damian at the computer, talking to someone (probably Bruce) as Alfred soon behind him.

Nothing was said until the doors to the elevator slid shut.

“Do you think B will come home early?”  Dick asked, tucking his head under Jason’s chin.

“Maybe.”  The rumble of Jason’s deep voice beneath his ear was a comforting sound.  “Damian said the League was almost done anyway.”  So, it could go either way.  Dick wasn’t sure which way he wanted it to go.  Yes, he missed Bruce the past two weeks he had been gone, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the surge of protectiveness that would be sure to follow his homecoming. Sometimes being the only pack omega had its downsides.

“Can you stay with me tonight?”  Jason didn’t say anything in response, but the tightening of his grip on Dick was enough of an answer. As if to say there was no where else he’d be.  “Thanks, Jay,” he whispered, closing his eyes at the steady sway of Jason’s steps as they stepped off the elevator.

“Anything for you, Mate,” Jason whispered back.  And though it wasn’t technically true yet, Dick still felt a familiar warmth fill him at the title.

[lothioriien]

richie tozier and his zoomer teen: headcanons

A/N: I tried keeping this as gender neutral as possible, but idk it’s a lil implied that the kid’s a girl. i’m trying to learn how to write gender neutral stuff :”)

By teenager, I mean around 16-17! High school age!!

Enjoy!

Sometime in the early 2000s, famous comedian Richard Tozier went to a party and came home with a woman.

oh yeah they deffo got it on that night

But that was a one night stand kind of thing, and Richie didn’t have any contact with her until about a year later.

He got up the couch one early evening to the ringing of his doorbell, and found a basket and a bag filled with baby food, diapers, and clothes perched on his doorstep

And in the basket? A small child, an apology note from the mother, and a birth certificate with his name listed as the father.

Oh boy did his life completely change after that.

It was him and the child, against the world.

but let’s skip the details on him struggling to take care of an infant first and move on a bit to when the kid’s older.

You, of course, are the baby that was left on his doorstep, and Richie tried to be the best father he could be despite his touring career as a comedian.

He’d bring you to the shows, even if you didn’t understand a thing that went on, though eventually when you’d help him write some material when you were older.

Constantly touring with him as a kid meant you were homeschooled. But that didn’t stop you from having a social life. You’d be friends with a lot of his fellow comedians, and John Mulaney was your ultimate favorite friend of his.

you just loved the very tall and gangly twelve year old looking man named uncle john.

Your academic life though was not too bad. You’re pretty intelligent, but when it came to maths, oh boy.

As a kid, you’d ask Richie constantly about math. He’d hate the school curriculum you had because math was different back when he was younger. He’d always help you, but it was mostly the internet just teaching you both.

You’d introduce him to vines (through iconic vine compilation videos), but mostly because he was so confused with this new language you were speaking.

Eventually he’d say some vines back to you and it’d come off so weird cause he’s a 40 year old white dad. You love him, nonetheless, and appreciate the effort

A lot of your instagram stories or snapchat stories are you filming him as you sing “You are my dad! You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!”

He found it cute at first, where he would smile at you hiding behind your phone and hug you after cause dang he loves his kid so much and would die for you

then later, he’s evidently so annoyed because you do it constantly. As in he takes off his glasses, puts his head in his hands and just sighs so loudly.

When tiktok became the new vine, you were on the app every single day, making it a goal of yours to become tiktok famous.

You’d force your dad to do tiktoks with you

“I love my daddy. he is my superhero”

“Famous relative check!”

BUT THE PERFECT AUDIO

“Don’t look at me like that.” “YOU’RE MY DAD. BOOGIEWOOGIEWOOGIE!”

Gaining some clout because he is a pretty famous comedian 👀

Saying “ok boomer” to him when he’d annoy you

But then he’d clap back by being like “What the fuck Y/N. I was born in 1976, i’m not that old.”

“Yeah but sometimes you think like a boomer.”

“Ok, zoomer.”

“Dad. No. Get out.”

He’s really chill with you swearing. You definitely got that habit from him.

“What the actual fuck, Richard.”

“At least have the fucking decency to call me dad, Y/N.”

He got you into video games at a young age. Every time there was a new console or a new interesting game out, you’d both be up early to go out and get the said console/game.

And in each game you’d play, there would be hilarious commentary.

it’s basically that video with bill hader playing god of war with conan but imagine that and a zoomer’s feral energy combined.

He also got you into becoming a cinephile. Though unlike him, you read the books before watching the movie.

Marathoning a bunch of tv series together and you can never watch any new episode without him. Friday nights were reserved especially for it.

Richie can’t fucking cook for the life of him. Growing up, it was always take out, pizza, instant noodles, or mac and cheese.

He tried learning how to cook, he really did. But it was just so bad that eventually you’d learn how to do it. Then you’d try to teach him how too.

But did he get better as a cook?? Not really.

He once accidentaly set almost the whole kitchen on fire when he tried making pasta when you were 15.

“DAD, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PUT WATER IN THE POT FOR PASTA.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT? I JUST WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU!”

“I APPRECIATE THE GESTURE BUT PLEASE DON’T EVER TRY TO COOK AGAIN.”

The following morning, he got up and learned how to make pancakes with sausages, bacon, and eggs.

It was damn good, and by far the best thing he ever made.

So his pancakes became a regular thing.

On casual dinner nights at home, he’d let you have a drink with him and be drinking buddies. He taught you how to drink and be safe with drinks (cause we stan a protective father amirite)

Speaking of protective father, he’d be so picky and open about the people you’d date

“Really Y/N? That person? They’re fucking trash and you know it. You deserve better, sweetie.”

“But dad. They’re hot.”

“That’s still a no from me, kiddo.”

Having the most random, yet somehow meaningful conversations with Richie, yet roasting him at the same time.

“Y/N, do you think I would be classified as a papi by people.”

“No. You still wear hawaiian shirts over a t-shirt. You’re too tacky for that. You’re a papa, not a papi.”

But somehow, you also adopt his fashion style?

Cause hawaiian shirts are pretty cool? Very John Deacon ala 80s aesthetic?

And then he roasts you back from the time you called him tacky.

“Respect the drip, Richard.”

Even though you always poke fun at each other, you guys are actually so open with each other and just talk about anything and everything.

Oh no when you first got your period, he was panicking and nearly bought the entire aisle of pads and tampons because he was so clueless

Meeting the Losers Club was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You didn’t know what to expect of them or what they’d expect from you.

You clung to your dad the whole time, watching him reunite with his childhood friends. Each one of them had a look of surprise and confusion the moment they laid their eyes on you.

They found you to be like a mini-me of Richie, as both of you were clad in printed/hawaiian shirts and glasses.

“Jeez, Richie. Why’d you decide to bring a fucking clone of yourself?” asked Eddie.

“That’s my kid, you dumbass! Eddie, this is Y/N.”

“No shit, you have a kid! You got married, dipshit?”

“No, uh, it’s just them and me.”

You decided to butt in jokingly, “Joe was in the picture for a while too,”

“Joe? Who the fuck is Joe?” The minute Eddie asked this, Richie knew what was coming next.

“Joe mama.” Thus receving a high five from your father and a groan from Eddie.

at first, everyone else would not believe Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier had his very own kid, but the minute you started to get comfortable and joke around, it really clicked for them.

“There’s no doubt they’re Richie’s kid. Look at them! They’re basically a carbon copy of him!” Eddie would have exclaimed.

You‘re very liberal and open-minded, supporting the LGBT+ community and such, but you didn’t really know Richie’s stance on it.

Perhaps it was because he’d been surpressing his feelings for a specific boy from his childhood for almost his entire life, and he didn’t really talk about that topic so much.

But when you saw the chemistry between your dad and Uncle Eds, you sensed a little something there on both ends.

always saying a specific vine under your breath when you see them “two bros, chilling in a hot tub, five feet apart cause they’re not gay” (thank you to for this hc)

OKAY UNCLE EDS LIVES IN THIS AND HE’S DEFFO A BIG PART OF YOUR LIFE AFTER ONE SPECIAL TRIP TO DERRY, MAINE.

You’d say the vine so much, Richie eventually heard it and pulled you aside.

“Y/N, I- how did you know?”

“Know what dad?”

It took a little while for him to come up with the proper words to say. How was he gonna break this to you?

“Y/N..honey, I’ve had feelings for your Uncle Eds ever since we were kids. I-i don’t know, it really scared me as a kid to feel that way so I never talked about it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, kiddo, I’m gay.”

“Huh? I thought you were American?”

the man was basically on the verge of tears. He was so tense, he almost forgot to breathe. But the moment you hugged him and told him that it’s okay, that you love him so much, and that you’re so proud of him, he wrapped you in the biggest bear hug and cried. You cried too.

A/N: Imma end it here for now :)

So sorry it took forever!! I hope you enjoyed!!

Let me know if you want a part 2! 🤪

[watchtower-feed]

Death Do We Part (Part 10)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Words: 2,000+

     Your eyes frantically move around the room, trying to find where the next blow is going to come from. He’s walking toward you, away from Jason who’s lying still in the corner. He breaks your ribs just as he did with Jason and you cough blood onto his face. The splatter seems to awaken something in him and he smiles wider, the wide grin on his face twitching with joy.

     You shudder in fear as blood fills up your throat and you can’t breathe. You keep your eyes on Jason as the Joker slams the crowbar down onto the tips of your fingers.

     Is this what Jason felt? Alone? In pain? Dying? Oh god, you thought. Why does he have to go through this again? You close your eyes and desperately try to shut off your link.

✧ ✧ ✧

     Robin is lying still on the ground, bleeding from his side. Nightwing is heaving in breaths as he nurses his broken ribs. Batman’s the only one standing but his cowl is ripped, his hair sticking out, and his kevlar suit is grazed from the hail of gunfire. While the Red Hood, well. He just stopped. He’s just standing there, staring into space.

    The standstill lasts for a while, giving Bruce time to glance at his partners and assess the situation. Tim needs medical attention ASAP. Nightwing can no longer fight and he’s out of supplies and soon out of moves. This new player seems to have a counter for every single one of their maneuvers. Batman needs to think outside of the box.

    But before he does, Red Hood finally moves. He drops his stance and puts a finger to his ear. He listens. Batman narrows his eyes at him until he’s moving again. This time, he slowly retreats into the shadow. “Checked in with your base lately?” he mocks.

    Batman doesn’t follow him. “Y/N,” he whispers into the comms. No answer. Nightwing slowly stands up and helps Bruce carry Tim back to the batmobile. Their drive back is noisy with Nightwing constantly trying to call you but only getting static, all while closing Tim’s wounds as best he can.

    “Have you checked the manor’s security?”

    “Offline.”

    “What about Alfred?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer. Bruce doesn’t give him one at all and only accelerates. Nightwing leans back and prepares himself for the worst thing they could probably come home to.

    The direct entrance to the cave is blasted open. But this doesn’t stop Bruce from driving through the debris. In fact, it made him drive faster. Once inside, everything has been visibly looted and the infrastructure mostly destroyed, but it’s silent. There’s no one there.

    “Stay here,” Bruce orders and closes the door before Dick could say anything. He uses his grappling hook to get up the tunnel of the busted shaft. The moment he’s up there, the grandfather clock is wide open, and he can see bodies on the floor of the study.

    “No…”

    Alfred is crying on the floor trying to make his body seem as small as possible. He’s holding his head between his knees and rocking forward. A foot away from him, you’re lying on the floor. Your whole body is shuddering and your eyes are wide open, empty gaze fixed at the empty ceiling. “Y/N,” When Bruce’s face enters your vision, you scream.

    The Red Hood hears the shrill ringing of your voice inside his head. Satisfied that he knows Bruce is there, he turns off his senses and looks back at Scarecrow and his crew who are bringing in their loot from the cave.

    “You were right,” Scarecrow tells him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Somebody opened the door for us like you said they would.”

    The Red Hood inspected the boxes and what’s inside them. Supplies of everything in Batman’s armory and utility belt. Even spare kevlar suits and cowls.

    He needed some for himself and the rest to bribe Gotham’s crime lords. But the big players like Scarecrow, Dent, Penguin, Black Mask and Bane, they needed proof that he’s got the Bat under his thumb and the cave was just the first step.

     But was it worth it? Was it worth endangering you and Alfred just to get them on his side? Or is he just turning into Talia and her father?

    “So. Which one of them is Batma--”

    A gunshot rings loudly in the warehouse, catching the attention of his men. They watched as Scarecrow’s body hits the floor with a hole in his eye. Jason turns to them. “When I give instructions, you follow them to the T.”

    “Are you insane? We got everything like you said, and the Bat wasn’t there.”

    “That’s because I was distracting him. I lost more ammo and get-aways than I had to because you decided to mess around and waste time!”

    “It was all Scarecrow. He--”

    The Red Hood aims his gun at his forehead. “He’s dead,” he says. The man almost whimpers until Red Hood finally takes back his gun. “I’m in charge now and what I say is law.” He watches as the men scramble back to what they were doing.

    He stands on the sides, clenching and unclenching his fist. He can still see the images of your nightmare. He didn’t realize you knew so much about his death. It was so vivid, it was like he was reliving it.

✧ ✧ ✧

    “You think this job was the new player?”

    You wake up to the sound of Dick’s voice. You almost want to groan because Dick can probably wake up the dead. But you keep your eyes closed, preparing yourself for the questions about how you were attacked.

    “Then that changes everything, doesn’t it? He knows where the cave is. He probably knows who you are-- who we are.”

    “We’re not sure,” Bruce answers him, “There were several home invasions in the area at the same time last night. There’s a chance it was unintentional.”

    “Do you really believe that? That Scarecrow would bring his toxins to a home invasion-- Enough fear toxin to kill a crowd--”

    “God, Dick!” Tim’s voice reaches you from your other side. “You’re so loud! Why are you even debriefing in a hospital room?”

    “Yeah,” you open your eyes now, just in time to see Bruce and Dick stand up, relief washing over their faces, “Some people are dying here.” You sit up, only to find out that your body feels like it had been run over by a truck. You slump back down but then you notice another person in the bed across from you. “Alfred?” you call out.

    Dick shakes his head, “There were a lot more toxins in his body and he was exposed to it longer. Dr. Jace is still trying to flush everything out.” He gives you a reassuring smile, “But he’ll be okay.”

    You immediately feel guilty, “I should’ve checked on him sooner!” Then you remember the voice you heard when you opened the door. “No… I’m the one who led them into the cave. I opened the clock and they were waiting for me.”

    “This isn’t your fault, Y/N.” Tim’s voice steals your gaze and you’re surprised to find him glaring at you from beside Alfred. His torso’s heavily bandaged and he narrows his eyes, “Stop doing that. Stop carrying everything on your shoulders like you’re alone in this. You’re not.”

    Slowly, you look away from Tim. The sudden tension in the room only increasing. He’s right. You’re doing it again. But it was your access that led them there to the base and possibly their identities. “What did they do in the cave?”

    “They destroyed it,” Bruce answers and you clench your fist on your lap. Gently, he covers them with his hand, “We’ve got another safe house set up. Once Alfred wakes up, we’ll be staying there.”

    “Until when?” Tim asks.

    “Until we catch that son of a bitch.” You’re surprised to hear Dick swear and sound serious. You can’t help but laugh and it lightens the mood just enough. “What? What did I do?” he asks frantically. 

    It’s nighttime by the time Alfred wakes up, disorientated, in pain, and downright cranky. He made sure to give Bruce an earful as they relocated to your new base of operations. Alfred’s voice got even louder when Bruce started putting on a new suit.

    “Master Bruce, I beg of you. Take one night off--”

    “One night is all it takes, Alfred, for somebody else to die out there--”

    “Then for once let them!” You’re all surprised to hear Alfred shout, “For once. Worry more about yourself. Your children. Your own family.”

    You, Tim, and Dick watch awkwardly from the sidelines. Bruce stares at Alfred but he doesn’t put the cowl down.

    “This is how I protect my family.”

    Bruce walks away from Alfred who leans against the wall in exhaustion. Dick catches him quickly, “Okay. Here. Let’s get you to bed. Nice and easy.”

    “Master Richard, remember that I once tended to your scrapes and cuts when you were a mere schoolboy. So don’t treat me like I’m a child.”

    Dick chuckles, “Look out, Y/N. Someone’s trying to give you a run for your money.”

    As if only now remembering, Alfred quickly turns to you, “Are you alright?”

    You smile and nod. “Just a nightmare,” you say and Alfred doesn’t return your smile. He knows how bad ‘just a nightmare’ can be. You watch as Dick takes him to one of the rooms and comes out soon after, proving that Alfred was more tired than he had let on.

    “Tim, watch the comms and feeds.”

    “What?” you and Tim say at the same time. “You’re not going out there, too, are you?” Tim says.

    “Bruce is out there on his own. Hot Blooded. We both know that’s not his best mood on the job. I’m just ground support.”

    “You’re both trying to get killed tonight!” you shout, suddenly standing.

    Dick doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t stop to look at you. He walks out of the safehouse without another word. Tim stands and you quickly glare at him.

    “Calm down, Y/N. I’m just going to tune in to their video feed and comms.”

    You plop down on the couch and wait for Tim to turn on the laptop. You watch as he connects to their private network and hooks it up to the TV. The first thing you see are Batman driving in his batmobile and Dick on his motorcycle.

    “I should’ve threatened to break his ribs,” you mutter, making Tim chuckle.

    “That still wouldn’t have held him back. Take a page from Alfred’s book and break both his kneecaps.”

    “Did he really do that?”

    Tim just smiles to himself. You glare at him because you’re getting a little sick of all the non-answers. It seems to be a habit every Robin picks up from Bruce.

    As you wait and watch the two vigilantes go through Gotham, your body starts reliving random sensations of being hit and battered. You clench and unclench your fists as you imagine the crowbar hammering down on your fingertips.

    “Have you ever been hit with the fear toxin?” you ask quietly, almost not wanting Tim to answer. “Am I supposed to feel all of that… physical torture. Even after the toxins worn off?”

    Tim shrugs his shoulders, “Mind over matter, Y/N.”

    You huff in frustration. You get it, he’s still mad. But does he have to be an ass at this very moment? You both just went through hell and could have died.

    You sigh as you realize that you and Alfred could have died, and Tim is out of commission with a stab wound on his side. He’s not being distant, he’s focused. It’s the only way he knows how to cope.

    Tim suddenly sits upright and watches his computer intently. You look at the TV and see Batman engaged in a fight with someone in a red helmet.

    “It’s the new player,” Tim answers you without having to ask. “Heard someone call him the Red Hood.”

    “Put it on speaker.”

    “--haven’t changed at all,” his voice is distorted because of the full-face helmet he was wearing. But your body reacts to it almost like it’s familiar.

    “How does it feel to lose your cave? Your home?”

    Tim grunts, “So he does know.”

    You try to tune out Tim, tune out everything in the room, and focus solely on the voice that’s suddenly making your body more attuned to your link’s sense.

    “Seeing them badly injured, left for dead. I bet it made you so angry and you just want to kill whoever’s responsible!”

    You’re shaking your head. You know that voice. Slowly, afraid to be right, you close your eyes and numb yourself to your own senses. If it is him, and he’s fighting Bruce right now, then he won’t expect you. He won’t--

    You feel the weight of Batman’s fist hit the side of your face. Your eyes quickly open in time to see him stagger away from Batman. It’s him.

    “Nightwing, turn left. Batman and-- Y/N! Where are you going?”

    You’re already grabbing your phone and heading for the door. Tim blocks your path. “Move, Tim.”

    He narrows his eyes at you, “Where are you going?” he asks again.

    “Out. Now move.”

    “No way, Y/N.”

    You glare at him. From your peripherals you see Batman kick Jason in the chest and you lean on the back of the couch to hide the pain. It’s definitely him. If Tim finds out and he figures out that you’re going to meet him, he’ll tell Bruce.

    “Y/N--” distracted by your sudden movement, you quickly press against Tim’s wound, “AH!” opening it again and you can see him bleeding through the bandage.

    “I’m sorry, Tim,” you rush out and leave him behind, slamming the door behind you.

    Where are you headed?

    You run a couple of blocks before you hide in an alley and close your eyes. You’re immediately met with a piercing sensation on the back of your hand. You feel Jason take out what was lodged and blood oozes down from your new wound. Then the muscles on your legs are extending and retracting, he’s running away.

    This is the hard part but you have to get this right. You grew up in these streets. You know Gotham about as much as you know Jason. You pay attention to the smell, the noise, and the direction of the wind because you need to know exactly where Jason is running off to.

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[dippedanddripped]

In the first few moments of a YouTube video titled “Admitting I Own Fakes In-Front of My Fashion Class…”, Quentin Caruso, better known as Tripping, does just that. “I’m a sophomore in college and I’m taking a class about fashion, and in that class (we) were talking about fakes and replicas,” he explains, adding that he can “throw up some pictures so you guys know I’m not bullshitting”. Asked by his teacher if he knowingly owns any counterfeit pieces, the 19-year-old confirms the sneakers he’s wearing at that very moment – the highly coveted Travis Scott Jordan 1 Lows – are in fact fake. “And how do you feel about that,” she prompts. “I’m fine with it,” he wryly confirms.

Caruso is part of a growing community of fashion-savvy shoppers searching for ways to look runway ready on a high street budget – and, unlike many die-hard hypebeasts, they’re willing to own up to the fact their luxury garms aren’t exactly legitimate. In fact, many take pride in their ability to score a bargain, taking to subreddit FashionReps to discuss new releases, fawn over faux Yeezys, and ask each other for advice on where to pick up the best knock-off Off-White and Supreme styles.

The forum is a democratised, judgement-free zone in which people share a love of high quality replicas or ‘reps’, where members are friendly and even supportive. They help one another to find the best sellers and sites to buy from, while discussing discrepancies between retail items and their counterfeit counterparts – from stitching and logos, to details and finishes. Most users admit they can’t afford head-to-toe designer looks, and at times they even share budgeting tips. "I got into reps cause I didn’t have much money and wanted a few nice pieces," redditor godsip2 shared in August. "Now I have no money at all 'cause I'm addicted to buying reps and can't stop myself."  

While a lack of funds and a taste for luxury streetwear is a driving factor for many, for others it isn’t about the money at all. “Not to brag, but if I want a Dior coat, I can get it retail,” Dennis, 19, tells us. “For the same (amount of) money I can get four reps.” Dennis admitted his breaking point came after a shocking moment browsing resale markets where he saw his ‘grail shoes’ – a pair of Off-White Air Jordan 1s – show up for €3000. “I thought ‘Fuck this, I’m never gonna pay that for shoes that originally retailed for €150.”

It’s been almost three years since he came across the FashionReps subreddit, which he was initially skeptical of. However, since joining he hasn’t just sworn off resale products and full-price retail items, but also introduced his friends to reps. “A €500 sweater wasn’t in their price range,” says Dennis. “When I showed them my reps (compared to) my retail Yeezys, they were instantly sold.”

Historically, counterfeit designer items conjure thoughts of poorly imitated handbags on AliExpress, labels that read, ‘Fashing BALISG’ instead of Balenciaga, and stalls in alleyways, but FashionReps members know where the quality replicas are sold and claim that many knock-offs actually tend to be better made.  “The quality is the same, even better,” Netherlands-based 23-year-old Camiel admits. “I’ve heard of some Yeezys being better and a lot of high-end Louis Vuitton reps being way better than retail.” He believes that “retail Louis Vuitton quality is not so great…”

FashionReps members buy in bulk, spending hundreds of dollars on ‘hauls’ that they break up into smaller packages in hopes of evading customs checks. The risk is part of the thrill, and while some are unlucky and have their packages seized, others rejoice when packages filled with thousands of dollars of ‘drip’ arrive in the mail.

Camiel cites his favourite find to be a Palace red slub-neck, “which you can't tell apart from a real one – which I have one of,” he adds. “The quality is amazing and it's super comfortable to wear, it's my favourite (item) I have gotten so far.” But Camiel hasn’t always gotten away with his thrifty finds.

“In the beginning, I wouldn't wear an item if it had the tiniest flaw. Later on, I noticed that people know (very) little about brands and which items even exist,” he explains. While most people who recognise a rep are likely to ask for the seller or pass on a compliment, Camiel concedes he’s been called out before. “Some high schoolers were at the gym and I was wearing my Nike tech fleece joggers, which have some noticeable flaws, like the black stripe being too short and the cords being too short as well. They called me out on the logo, which I know is perfect. Bunch of clowns.”

For all the people excited about reps, their quality, and believability, there are just as many people out there looking to spot a fake. YeezyBusta, who recently gained prominence for spotting fakes on civilians and celebrities has over 760,000 followers on Instagram. He’s busted the likes of Lil Tjay, Blac Chyna, and Soulja Boy for donning fake Supreme and Yeezys, although his faux-detector has been known to malfunction.

"I got into reps cause I didn’t have much money and wanted a few nice pieces. Now I have no money at all 'cause I'm addicted to buying reps and can't stop myself" – godsip2, FashionReps member

In an episode of Complex’s Full Size Run, hosts tasked the Instagram detective with discerning the difference between fake pairs of shoes from the real thing. After being handed a pair of bone-white Yeezy 500s, YeezyBusta exclaims, “Oh these are real!” Closely inspecting the shoe, he notices “The suede is right…even down to the stitching, the label inside the shoe looks right to me and the insole is right too.” The host, who finds it hard to hide his amusement, blurts out “They’re fake.” Behind his signature black surgical mask, used to hide his identity, YeezyBusta turns bright red.

“I can’t take him seriously,” Tripping admits. In a reaction video to a VICE documentary on YeezyBusta, the fashion student protests his motivation for hunting down counterfeit items so publicly. “It isn’t funny. Does anyone find that funny? To ridicule people online? That isn’t something you should be gloating about.”

Some counterfeit items are so believable that they’ve also slipped past trusted authenticators. The RealReal, one of the world's leading luxury consignment stores, claims that "every item we sell is 100% authenticated by an expert.” However, just last year, Forbes contributor, Richard Kentenbaum claimed the retail giant had sold him a fake Toile de Jouy Dior Book Tote bag for $3,600. What followed was a swift investigation by CNBC, who, after speaking with a dozen former employees and unsatisfied customers, and obtaining internal company documents, revealed that “many of the items on the site were being authenticated by copywriters with limited training.” and those who are doing this work are finding it increasingly difficult to spot counterfeits. Out of 1,400 reviews online for The RealReal, the top complaints are fake items.

It may come as a surprise to learn that this is something FashionReps also stands firmly against. In December, the group came together after Depopuser James’s Closet was spotted selling counterfeit items. Within a day, the subreddit had made efforts to liaise with Depop directly and reported the fake pieces resulting in all the listings being taken down. And this isn’t the only time the forum has rallied against people selling fake items moonlighting as cheap authentic ‘steals’. “People who willingly sell replicas as authentic items are the worst,” Tripping insists. “Knowing that a replica looks so close to retail and not selling it for a lot of profit is challenging for some people.”

Conversely, enjoying replicas as they are comes with its own baggage. Reports indicate that counterfeit fashion is a trillion-dollar industry. "One of the worst stories I read was where they had raided an illegal factory and the children were actually handcuffed to the sewing machines," Ariele Elia, an assistant curator at the Museum at FIT explained in a Complex documentary about the flourishing bootleg industry.

Fashion Revolution, a not-for-profit global movement campaigning for the systemic reform of the fashion industry, notes that there’s an “urgent lack of transparency.” Policy Director at Fashion Revolution, Sarah Ditty, told us that counterfeiting doesn’t usually come hand in hand with good rights and wages for workers. “Factories making counterfeit items are doing so illegally so it’s in their interest to operate completely under the radar and in doing so means we have no idea who the workers are making these products, what they are being paid, what conditions they’re working in, and what sort of poor environmental practices are most likely happening in these factories.”

To them, the moral standpoint is clear: “We would definitely encourage people not to buy fake luxury goods or any other counterfeit items because you’re almost guaranteed to be contributing to human exploitation and environmental degradation.” This is an issue that goes beyond fakes: when you look beyond the manufacturing level at the places where fabrics are made, yarns are spun and fibres are grown, even legitimate brands are guilty of obscuring working conditions.

But Tripping insists it's a media smoke-screen. “adidas and Nike were called out for their treatment of workers in the 90s and early 2000s, so now every factory in Asia is associated with bad conditions and child labour.” Tripping also claims that sellers are in fact increasingly transparent about working conditions, their treatment of employees and factories. “They show what their shop looks like, I’ve even asked sellers to show their shops,” he remarked in one of his videos. “And they’ve posted videos on the (subreddit).” One video posted shows a “top quality Yeezy” factory filled with workers. “Actually looks very clean and cool compared to all of the bad warehouse jobs I used to do here in the US,” Redditor highnnmighty comments.

“That’s like asking if I’ll ever go back to my ex, it was a fun time but in the end, you just feel shitted on” – Dennis, on whether or not he will stop buying fakes

Central to what makes FashionReps a great community isn’t the collective middle-finger to resale culture and hypebeasts or the internet-savvy tips, but the irreverent charm and supportive nature of young people who ultimately just want to look cool, and don’t want money to be the reason that they miss out. It’s rare, if not impossible, to find fashion spaces that aren’t hierarchical, based on wealth, social standing, and nepotism, but FashionReps manages to do all of that, and more. Camiel tells me that recently, the subreddit even banded together to target sellers who began taking higher cuts from sales. “I love how we sometimes work together to get something we want.”

Confronted with the fact that buying reps are taking sales away from workers, brands, and designers, Tripping is unfazed. “Once a limited shoe is released, and sold out in seconds, the company has made its profit. The average cost of manufacturing an Air Jordan 1 is $15-$16. The mark up of that shoe is more than 100 per cent. Nike has no problem with this. If you are wearing a replica of that overpriced shoe (on the resell market), you are basically advertising the brand. The culture side of sneakers is bland and fraudulent, replicas are there to stir things up.”

When asked if he’d ever give up replicas and return to buying retail, Dennis scoffed before saying: “That’s like asking if I’ll ever go back to my ex, it was a fun time but in the end, you just feel shitted on.”