#not so much a vent just sitting here staring at my tablet and then looking at the camera like im in the office

[sketchy-tour]

Nothing quite like feeling like your brush is just off in some way so you sit there staring at your settings until you give up cause it LOOKS fine only to realize mid lining a piece that your brush density was turned off. :)

I know that I'm probably the only person who will notice the slight difference in the lines. ...But dang it I'm so close to just...relining the whole dang thing!

[hoaqins-funk-house]

Springtrap

Yandere

Male Reader

Part 1

Sitting in the black swivel chair, you spin once or twice before coming to a stop, grimacing at the feeling of sticky floors beneath your shoes. This place is brand new, how the hell are the floors sticky? 

Actually, on that note, how is everything so covered in dust?

Sighing, your mindless fidgeting comes to a stop as the phone, just as dinky as the walls around you, begins to ring. You pick it up but put it back on the table, eyes drifting to the laptop and swing-out tablet. When you flip the former open, you note the four buttons, each relating to something you would have to reset when it comes time to. The latter has cameras that are scattered around, including a separate tab for vents. There’s an option to block off vents, which sends a chill up your spine as you glance to the big ass one at your side.

You decide to block that one off for now.

Humming, you familiarize yourself with the layout of the place, deciding to ignore the shadows that crept through your vision.

Your unenthused eyes scan and take in everything. The replicas (you had seen the originals, and they were permanently stained with both the smell and color of pizza sauce and lawsuits) that were in and around the office, as well as the little bobbleheads that sat on your desk of the animatronics, which were, for some reason, human? You boop the one who you assume to be Freddy, hearing the familiar squeak. 

A small smile comes to your lips.

It was at this time that you realized you had completely ignored the man on the phone, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. 

The little drawings that were put up were authentic; not just anyone could recreate what a child's mind spits out and decides to draw. 

That Freddy looks a bit fucked up.

The posters were cutely designed, and after getting the gist of what everything was and how everything works, you were on your phone the rest of the night.

When six strikes, you casually leave, giving the building a quick once over as you leave the doors, locking them behind you.

If every night is going to be like that, this is going to get boring.

-

He’s stuck.

This suit traps him like a rabid dog, eager to stay gripped onto his neck.

Still, things would be changing soon.

He can feel it.

He can feel it as a fresh breeze, the first in many years, hits his nostrils, sending a wave of euphoria through his system. The bloodied musk that hung in the dank room was not a pleasant one.

He can feel it as his body accepts this new host, more and more, until soon, quite soon, he will become one with his vessel. 

Just as the animatronics before him did.

He ponders. 

Why was he being freed from this prison of his own design?

Is he being taken somewhere?

…

Will there be a night guard to terrorize?

A grin takes to his broken lips as he ignores the pain and blood that comes from them. Oh, a night guard! Truly, that will be a sight!

He can't wait. 

For now, however, he must play dead.

My, that voice that shouts with excitement from behind him…

It sounds so familiar.

"Bring the truck around!" He calls. "I found one, a real one! It's got the rips, the weird colors, and what I am going to assume is pizza sauce! Ohohoh man, I hit the jackpot with this one! Fazbear's Fright needed something, and here it is!" 

His congratulatory tone made the man within the suit want to throw up. Finding him was nothing to be happy about; he is despicable, incapable of redemption, and an awful being. 

And you know what? 

That's just the way he likes it.

So to have someone happy to find him, especially for their own purposes?

He won't let it stand. 

Yeah, if this place has a nightguard, he'll kill them without mercy before burning the entire thing to the ground.

Might as well make it fun for himself.

As light peeks through, clearly originating from a flashlight, he feels his pupils shrink, resisting the urge to let out a groan as his weak eyes ache from their decades of being in the dark.

"Whoahoh! This one looks gnarly!" The same man as before speaks, probably referencing the organs and tendons that were showing. "C'mon, let's get it up!"

His grin only grows as two people lift him onto a dolly, beginning the move.

Goodbye, saferoom.

And hello, Fazbear's Fright.

-

Humming, you walk into the building, skimming over the decorations once more before noticing something.

The papers that had fallen onto the ground from before, they had dirt on them. Not surprising on its own, but when they were in the shape of tire tracks? 

You decide to follow them, using your memory of the cameras to guide you through the building, which was already rather linear anyway.

Entering the last area, you could see a rather dilapidated animatronic suit, with organs visible and its fur matted with blood. Real blood. The old Springbonnie suit was nearly green from how old and dirty it was.

Your eyebrows raise. "Is that guy just stupid or did he knowingly bring in a suit that has a dead body in it?"

Honestly, you didn't care. "Eh, whatever. It'll probably start moving when I start my shift… I've heard those rumors about the other locations." You turn, stretching, unaware of the eyes that followed you or the head that turned your way.

Damn, does he want to kill this one?

Well, he can think it over more soon. After the merge.

He grins again, feeling his uneven, gouged skin begin to flare with pain.

You exit the room fully, making your way back to the office with all the urgency of an ADHD-riddled person doing laundry.

Which is to say… not much.

You fall into the chair, cursing as the thin mesh cushion does nothing to protect your tailbone from the metal frame of the chair. The phone rings not a moment later, you picking it up and laying it on the table again, eager to ignore it just as you had done before. You stretch again, arms raising above your head as you begin to flip through cameras, finding the rabbit in the same spot it was in before. 

You yawn.

Hopefully it starts moving soon, or else the entire reason you took this job would be unfulfilled. 

You were bored, and you remembered this place from the times you had gone with your younger brother, who was now in his early twenties. You, however, were 28 years of age, with nothing better to do than 'investigate' the Fazbear's Fright that opened up. Still, if that rabbit has a corpse in it, it should make things more fun.

As you lazily flip through your cameras, you set it down and look to the side, seeing a rather dirty looking man with an eyepatch and fox ears. To his confusion, before he could lunge at you, you reach out and swipe a hand through his chest. You continue to swipe forwards and backwards, the incorporeal man stuck standing there until you leaned back.

"So, you're a ghost."

His mouth opens as if to retort, but he just gives up and leaps at you, you not even looking at him anymore. He closes his mouth halfway through the jump, and with an unsatisfied sigh, he disappears.

You continue flipping through the cameras, checking in on the rabbit a couple of times before shoving the tablet out of the way, opening the laptop to have it ready and sitting back in your chair.

You glance towards a shifting figure in front of the window, the hat and bear ears telling of who it is. He limps along, eventually falling beneath your view before seemingly phasing through the wall and leaping at you. You stare passively as he does so, him not completing the jump to instead stand in front of you, confused. 

For shits and giggles, you wave your hand through his chest once or twice.

"Why… aren't you… scared?" He croaks, voice ruined from years of no use.

"Oh, was I supposed to be scared?" You genuinely ask. "Uh, sorry. If you do it again I promise I'll hyperventilate."

"Don't try to… lessen your survival chances…"

"Okay. My bad." 

He sighs, and after annoyedly rubbing his face, he disappears.

You flip out your cameras once more, finding the screen obscured by static and a small error in the center. Lazily, you reset cams.

When your screen clears, you check the rabbit. He looks… strange. Like his body is evolving in front of your eyes. 

To be honest, you don't give enough of a shit to watch a potentially world-changing discovery if it looks that gross. You aren't paid enough to, anyway.

At this pay grade, you even coming into the damn building is volunteer work.

You check your phone for the time, seeing a cool time of one in the morning. 

"Aside from that science experiment gone wrong happening in the back room, it's still really damn boring."

However, it's still not boring enough to watch that transformation or whatever. That corpse (well, at this point, you kinda doubt it's dead) can do whatever the hell he wants with that suit. It's his body, not your business.

After another fifteen minutes of staring at a wall, you check the cameras to the sound of loud clicks and pops, now seeing a heavily scarred man with 1.5 rabbit ears in place of the suit. He takes one step out from his original spot, body heaving forward before he lifts himself up, looking up at the camera with a grin.

"Huh. That's new." You say, watching him jolt forward, continuing to take steps before relearning how to walk smoothly.

It only takes him a moment to rocket off.

"I doubt that's good." You mumble, beginning to flip through the cameras to follow him before playing a sound in the room behind him, making him pause. He turns, walking back with a confused expression.

Continuing to flip through cameras, you watch as the man, who you'll dub Rabbit Guy, wanders, seemingly having lost his focus. Hearing a sound to your left, you pay no heed to whoever it is, instead waggling your hand in what you would assume to be their torso.

"You're strange…" They say.

"Uh-huh. If you'd excuse me, I am currently working on keeping Rabbit Guy the hell away from me." Your voice is monotonous but sincere; you aren't trying to be sarcastic or mean, just trying to tell them the facts.

Glancing to the side, you see that it was a child, so you were waving your hand in his collar. "Oh, my bad. Does that… make you guys uncomfortable?" You ask, retracting your hand.

"No, we can't feel it." 

"Huh." You blandly respond, playing the sounds to lead Rabbit Guy back to where he started, before resetting sounds as you weren't able to play them anymore.

It seems like Rabbit Guy is getting progressively more and more annoyed at being led back, if his attempts to move fast enough to avoid the sounds or block out his ears meant anything. 

His body was responding to the sounds, not him.

It was then that he disappeared, so you check vents, finding him in one that led directly to the room beside your office.

You block it off, much to his annoyance, before yawning and sitting back as any thumps you hear from inside the vents come to a stop. 

You find him standing in the room where he had entered the vent, irritated as he glares at the camera. Preemptively, you reset all, thankfully right as cams and sound go out. 

Sighing, you lazily check through cameras, brows slightly furrowing as you look for him. He was completely gone, not in vents or in rooms. It really is unfortunate how many blind spots and shadowed areas there are.

When you hear the thumping of the vents, you search through them, only finding a stupid knick-knack laying on its side halfway in your sight.

Looking to your side, you peek into the vent, leaning down to see if anything was there. Your gaze meets Rabbit Guy's. 

"Shit." You say, quickly switching cams over to this one and holding down the seal button. 

Your eyes shift back to him, finding him way too close for comfort. As you lift your finger to let the gate close on the vent, the man (who was crouch walking) catches it, forcing it back up. You hear something grind that definitely shouldn't be grinding, and you have a feeling that that vent cover just might be broken.

Getting out of the vent, he stands over you, waiting for some sort of plea or… literally any response at all.

"So, you, uh… come here often?" You ask, leaving him genuinely at a loss. 

"Wh- was that a pickup line?" His rough, baritone voice catches you slightly off-guard. 

You weren't expecting something that was pretty much a zombie to have such a good voice, or a slight british accent for that matter. "Was it? Shit, more people've flirted with me than I thought."

"Really? That's all you can come up with before your death? I'd hate for those to be your final words." He lightly teases, leaning against the wall with a mean grin. 

You look up at the ceiling with a vague smile, his eyes widening momentarily. "To be honest, of any place to die, I'd much rather have it be in a place where I know I'll reach the front pages than in some random alley."

His grin falls into a frown as he watches you turn to him, the smile still on your face. It feels strange.

He feels strange. 

Why does a random night guard make him feel so…

So… comfortable?

You were calm, collected, not making any sudden moves or even attempting to exit the chair. Theoretically, the perfect prey, but not a satisfying kill. 

If he even wants to kill you, that is.

“What’s your name?” He asks, watching as you spin to face him in your chair. You would be taller if you stood, but he would still have a few inches on you.

“Y/N. You?” 

“I’m… William. Or, rather, I was, when I was well and truly human.”

“And now?” You ask.

“I don’t exactly have a name.”

“Can I still call you William, then? Well, if I live long enough to do so?” You ask, eyes moving up to meet his. Looking up at him like that… He wishes the hot feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away.

“...Fine.”

“I mean… are you going to kill me?” You ask, face not shifting as he glares down at you. 

“I won’t kill you on the first night, you need to give me more entertainment.” At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Oh, so we’re both here for the same reason.” You blankly say, his face contorting from a glare to confusion once more.

“You’re here… for entertainment?” He slowly asks, answered by your nod.

“I’m certainly not here for the pay. This place gives like half of minimum wage but I can’t complain about it because the other part is supposed to come from tips. Somehow.”

“How do you even live?” 

“Well, right now I’m on an paid leave due to some unfortunate deaths in my family. To be honest, I never really cared for any of them, but hey. I’ll take any chance for a break I can. Then I got bored.”

He huffs out a laugh. “So you went to another job on your break?”

“Listen, getting a month off leaves a man with little to do when capitalism has left me with no hobbies. Besides, this gives me a great excuse to continue avoiding people.”

His lips curl into an amused grin as he leans forward, lowering his head to be eye level with yours. "Well, you won't be avoiding me." He practically purrs, you averting your eyes at the tone he uses. 

Why would he say it like that?! 

His golden eyes follow you as you close the laptop's screen, enjoying your reaction. You…

He'll keep you around. 

You're entertaining and friendly. Open, and… warm.

He wonders. 

You're human, and fully alive. He's a revived corpse who merged with his vessel. You probably are very warm compared to him.

When he comes back to his senses, he notices you slowly raising out of your seat, hand outstretched towards him. 

Well, might as well take the chance.

He grabs your wrist, looking down at you unimpressed. You quietly huff, falling back into your chair and forcing him to move away from the wall in order to not dislocate your wrist.

Well, his hypothesis is correct. You are very warm. 

He feels the tightening in his gut, not wanting to let go but knowing that he will have to.

You, however, don't actually care either way. You begin your attempt again, this time with your left hand. Slowly raising out of your seat, you actually manage to stand fully up before he notices again, grabbing your other wrist. 

"What are you even trying to do?" He asks, a light sneer on his lips.

"Well... uh, I was trying to… boop your nose? If you're bonded with one of the original suits, then I figured either you or Fredbear would have the sound effect."

He lets out a few short laughs, his sneer replaced with the same amused grin as before.

"I'm afraid neither of us have the sound effect. That only came about with the second and third generations of animatronics."

You hum, interested.

His eyes quickly scan over you, taking in your form. This position, practically holding you hostage… Needless to say, he didn't dislike it.

Still, he releases you as he catches you glancing at what he assumes to be a phone. Things have advanced quite far since he was trapped. 

You turn it on quickly, checking the time. “Well, we have around an hour and a half before my shift ends, so…” Pausing, you check the time again. An hour and a half?

He steps closer, you glancing back up at him before leaning back as he leans forward, looming over you. “Tomorrow, you best make this more fun for me. I’ll greet you, but then I’ll head to the back. Try and stop me from getting in.”

“Uh, sure. Are you still planning on making the punishment for loss, uh, death?”

His eyes narrow in coordination with a widening grin. “That’s for me to know. You either figure it out, or you don’t. It all depends how well you play.” His gruff voice slightly echoes in the mostly empty building, you nodding in response. 

“Oh, cool. Can I tell my brother about you?” You ask suddenly, him quirking a brow as he stares down at you, easily at least half a foot taller than you. He was always tall, but now that he’s in this new form, he grew to be somewhere from 6’6 to 6’8. You sit down once more, exacerbating the height difference.

“Feel free to. Just know that if he ever comes around here, he won’t be alive for very long.”

“I doubt he will. He’s always preferred Foxy the most because he has taste, but-”

“Taste? For liking that liability-strewn fox? You like him as well?”

“To be honest, I never really liked any of them more than the other. I was in my emo phase when I went to see them, so it was practically illegal for me to like anything. But Foxy had sharp teeth and a wicked lookin’ hook, so… I guess I did.”

He hums, clearly slightly annoyed.

“Are you jealous that I liked the fox more than the rabbit that isn’t even the same generation as you?”

“I really should kill you.” His irritated expression shows the truth to your statement.

“It’s okay, I’m willing to call Springbonnie my favorite.”

Now, William was confused. Your tone… you weren’t joking. You were being genuine about something as stupid as this? What is with you?

“You’re very confusing. I think you joke, and then I listen to your tone and you’re genuine. But still, I wouldn’t mind if you did so.”

“It’s not nearly as confusing as how time passes in this place. It’s been like ten minutes since I met you but the clock says like three or four hours have passed.”

“What? Really?” His brows furrow as he steps closer, finding another excuse to close the distance between you both as he leans over the chair, seeing you pointing to the screen. “How strange…”

“Yeah. It doesn’t seem like tomorrow’s hunt will last for six hours, then. Thankfully.” You sigh.

“What, do you not want to feel like my prey for six hours straight?” He grins, leaning over further until his arm rests on your shoulder.

You shiver. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Because it makes you react, obviously. It’s entertaining to watch you squirm from something as simple as... the tone of my voice.” Of course, in order to prove his point, he does exactly what he did before, lowering his voice a few pitches and upping the growliness of it.

In covering your eyes, you also cover your cheeks, which have gained a slight flush. “William, I am begging you. Please, please, please, stop talking like that.”

And, naturally progressing, he was left somewhat stunned by the sound of your pleading tone. There’s just something about it, especially as you say his name, that makes him want to…

...makes him want to chase, and capture, and possess forever.

You as his prized prey, and him as the hunter.

“I’ll use it when necessary.” He vaguely answers, watching your head droop.

“I’ll take what I can get.” You concede breathily. 

He chuckles, hearing the chime of a bell, signifying 6 in the morning. "Well, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then. Don't keep me waiting."

"Asshole. I won't." You turn your head away from him, hiding the flush on your face, and stand up, stretching. "See ya, William."

He hums, eyes tracing your form as you stretch. It was a nice view, watching the button up shirt crease around your back as you stretch, clearly hinting at the muscle beneath. His eyes did drift lower once or twice, and that's how he figures out that damn, you have a really nice ass!

You begin to walk out, and he follows you with his eyes, watching you turn past the replica Freddy husk and unlock the door, exiting into the fresh morning. His eyelids droop, gaze slipping up as his lips curl into a wide grin.

“Y/N… I won’t kill you. Especially not when I’m presented with such an ample opportunity to make this into something so entertaining.” 

Well…

Is that the only reason?

Of course, he knows it isn’t.

His grin falls, leaving him coldly leering at the aged panels above him before his sight shifts back to the room around him. As he exits the office, he glances at the stained and shaded glass of the door, not allowing much, if any, light in. He turns away, heading back to where he was originally.

As he walks, he lets his form shift, feeling his body grow to his previous monster rabbit self, the creaks of his metal joints loud in the silent building. 

He ignores any shadows that creep in the edges of his vision, the specters traversing without sound. 

“This is going to be… boring.” His voice, far rougher than before, comes out unfeeling and croaky. As he returns to his previous position, slouching over once more, he decides to use his old tactic to pass time; inflicting enough pain on himself to fall unconscious. It doesn’t matter if his dreams are infested with darkness, nor how much he suffers in them. 

It was better than the boredom of sitting in one position with an unchanging environment.

He begins forcing his muscles to flex and strain within the suit and pull against the beams they have welded to, making him grit his teeth before the searing pain fades away, along with his vision.

Goodnight, Y/N.

-

“Yo.” You greet your brother, the man tiredly yawning as he ruffles his hair.

“Heya, Y/N. What’re you up so early for?” 

“Well, I got bored and got a night shift job at this dinky little horror attraction opening up next week. I decided to tell you about what happened there before I head off to sleep.”

“You got bored during a break from your job so you… got another job?”

“Y’know, William said the same thing.” You say, your brother narrowing his eyes at you.

“A coworker?” He asks. 

“Eh, not quite… he is the reason I stayed up to talk to you, though.”

He hums, walking around the couch you were splayed on with your shirt half unbuttoned. 

“So, to begin my tale, you remember Freddy’s? The pizzeria with the animatronics?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“Well the horror place I went to is based off of that; it’s filled with replicas and a few actual things from the pizzerias of the past, but something came in tonight that was… different.”

“Which was?”

“An animatronic. One of the originals, Springbonnie. Granted, the suit was ripped to shit and covered in enough dirt to be green, but it was authentic. It even has the dead body! Well - not so dead body, but still visible.”

“Did you call the cops?” He asks, worried.

“Hell no! I’m not paid enough to give a shit about what could-or-could-not-be a dead body. Either way, he transformed into a human, which was rather odd, but-”

“Just to be clear, this rabbit had a dead body inside and transformed into a human, and you don’t question it?”

“No. Continuing on, he got into my office and then we talked for a bit, I learned that his name is William, time passed really weirdly, and then we struck a deal where I have to keep him out of my office or I'll maybe die.”

“You’re still going back there?! And ‘maybe die?!’”

“Yeah, he said the knowledge about whether or not I die from losing the hunt was ‘for him to know.’ I didn’t question it further.” 

“You know, Y/N, sometimes it feels like I’m the older sibling. You’re fucking stupid.”

“I’m well aware.”

He leans over the couch, glaring down at you. “Then wisen up and quit that damn job.”

“I’m good. William is good company.”

“He threatened to kill you!”

“And? He hasn’t. Yet.”

“You infuriate me, gayboy.” He says, stepping away from the couch.

“Cool. I’ll sleep here for now, when you get back from work I’ll definitely be up.”

“Whatever.” He waves his hand at you, ignoring the middle finger pointing his direction from behind the couch’s back.

---

Part 2

also a lot of the stuff i write from now on may be male reader inserts lol

heres my springtrap design

here's the updated design lol

[kicksnscribs]

I got bored and was looking through some of my old writing so here have some excerpts from “Phantasmagoria” that probably won’t ever see the light of day lol

——————————————————————————

“We haven’t seen Nightbeat in ages.” Skids points out.

“Really? Hang on a sec, I bet I can get him in here…” Leigh goes to stand by one of the floor vents.

“How-“

“NIGHTBEAT GET IN HERE, THERES BEEN A MURDER!” Rung didn't even get the chance to finish his sentence before she belts it out at the top of her lungs

Nightbeat *bashes through the goddamned side of Swerves and looks extremely disappointed at the lack of death under mysterious circumstances* “STOP GETTING MY HOPES UP YOU ASSHOLES!!”

__\\

A group consisting of Rung, Leigh, Skids, Trailcutter, Swerve, Cyclonus and Tailgate are gathered round for a “sleepover”. They are setting up to play cards and are having a good conversation when Jazz and Prowl walk in curious as to what is going on. The group invites them to sit with them and catch up with their shenanigans since they are new to the ship.

“Nah, board games were banned ever since the ‘Monopoly Massacre’ of 11 Months; B.M.” Leigh explains, watching Swerve shuffle the cards using a “new technique he saw on YouTube.”

“B.M?” Prowl asked quietly. He was honestly scared to ask for more details after his first round of introductions on the ship

“Before Megatron.” Everyone answers simultaneously.

“Monopoly Massacre?” Jazz was more than intrigued at this point, visor glowing brighter than the smile on his face

“Yeah the game got kind of heated near the end and Whirl owed so much in back taxes he blew a fuse and shoved all the little houses into his boob turrets. Next thing you know he’s running around sniping people with tiny plastic real estate” Leigh explained.

“Pipes lost an optic that day!” Tailgate chimed in, equally horrified yet impressed

“And we do not dare speak of Clue in the presence of Nightbeat.” Rung stated firmly, recalling the events with a shudder.

“So what are you playing tonight?” Jazz asks, eyeing the group as they circled around a large table.

“UNO!” Swerve answers with delight, holding up the cards for them to see. Nearby Leigh appeared to be checking the battery on a small digital camera.

—//

“You ever think about hooking up with one of us?" Swerve asks one slow night at the bar.

"On occasion, yes."

"Really? Who would be your first pick?" He dropped what he was doing and was immediately by her side, his noseyness getting the absolute best of him.

"I don't know, probably that fine looking black and white bot from when we went back to your planet." She drawled out, lost in thought for a moment as she thought back to him.

"I-you gotta be more specific than that, Leigh. There are a lot of black and white mechs that fit that description."

"You know, the one Rewind always makes fun of. Kind of looks like Bluestreak?"

"PROWL?!??!?

"Yeah him! Damn he was a fine looking mech if I do say so myself!" A light blush dusted the humans cheeks and she giggled a little at the sound of his name. The mood was killed however, by Rodimus making a sound not unlike a shop vacuum trying to suck up a plastic bag.

"Oh my God! I thought there was just ONE fake bitch on this ship, it turns out there's TWO!!!!" Rodimus in his disbelief, Megatron narrows his eyes at him but does his best not to say anything.

—-///

BLASTER BLASTER BLASTER!! *runs into something; beat passes, she sticks her head out. “BLASTER YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!!”

“Leigh please do you have to be so loud I have a headache...” Blaster groans out miserably, staring down at the human's bright face that practically glowed with excitement at whatever it was she wanted to tell him.

“I don’t give a fuckadee about your robo-hangover CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!” She throws the tablet into his face, where it lands with a satisfying smack, sticking to it for a brief moment before sliding down into his waiting, tired hand.

Blaster reads it and suddenly a loud screaming sound echoes throughout the ship. Ultra Magnus comes running in with Rodimus and a few others, only to be greeted by two ecstatic crewmemebers.

And that’s how they found out Daft Punk was showing at the Golden Moon!

—-///

“Which movie scared Rodimus so bad it made him cry?" Rung heaved a weary sigh at the question. All he wanted to do was show off his newly minted avatar to her, but he he should have known that due to the last doppelgänger incident Leigh would be rather…on edge when it came to new faces.

"For the fifth time he didn't cry, he was taken off guard by the scene and you know this.” He sighed out. “Also it was Peewee’s Big Adventure."

“Large Marge will forever leave a scar in our hearts…” Leigh states mystically, looking up to the ceiling much to Rungs utter confusion.

—//

“Hey by the way, thanks for calling off your pussycat.” Leigh says without looking up from her datapad.

Megatron is visibly surprised and Leigh cocks her brow at him as if she were insulted.

“Hon, I’ve been in space for damn near twenty years now if I couldn’t tell when something is about to kill me in a dimly lit area I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you right now.”

She puts away her datapad and climbs back into the vents.

“Pleasure doing business with you, chief.” Her voice echoes through the surrounding vents.

—-///

“I’m...envious I suppose.” Megatron begins.

“Is it because you are being held imprisoned by a mech who is like you in many ways when you were younger, but manages to keep his crew somewhat in line not by using fear but by actually caring about them?” Megatron makes a face at the observation. “It wasn’t meant to be criticism.”

—-///

"Hey Brainstorm how would you like to become fucking rich?"

"The usage of two of my favorite words in the human language piques my interest but the speaker makes me hesitate..."

"Cut me to the quick, why don't you?"

—-///m

“What's this?” A curious Tailgate points to a small glass box with the words "in case of Brainstorm break glass" crudely painted on it.

“It's my emergency kit.” Leigh answers matter of factly. “It’s for whenever Brainstorm gets back in his bullshit.

The minibot nearly got down on all fours to examine the small box. Despite not having much in terms of facial features, Leigh could tell he had a look of utter confusion etched on his face due to the odd nature of the box's contents.

“There's nothing in here but an egg…” He finally says, eyeing the pink object.

“Actually it's chapstick.” Leigh corrected, tapping the case gently. “I want to make sure my lips are nice and hydrated before I kiss my ass goodbye.

—//

“I hope your soul dissolves the moment it leaves your corpse; denying you the satisfaction of ever knowing what lies beyond the veil of death.”

“Leigh holy fuck, it’s just a game...”

—//

You're a disgrace."

"You pronounced 'delight' wrong."

((THINGS I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DRAW OUT BUT NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT LOL))

“Before we die, does anybody want to admit their undying love to me?” Whirl

“YES!!!”

Everybody stops what they are doing and Whirl looks genuinely surprised at Brainstorm’s outburst. Nearby Leigh rounds on Megatron.

“DUDE if we get out of this you owe me SO. MUCH. MONEY.”

Megatron facepalms.

—-//

Brainstorm invents a new gun called the “Wumbofication Ray” that’s supposed to enlarge things and tries to get Perceptor to help him test it out. Getting into a squabble he accidentally fires off the gun where the blast ricochets all over the lab before shooting through a crack and hitting someone outside with a startled “NYENGH!!”.

Leigh enters the room looking none to pleased and about twenty times her original size and Brainstorm is pleased as all get out that his invention worked because of course it does why would he worry he was the one who made it.

“So what do you think Leigh? It’s a genius idea of course but give me your thoughts don’t be shy”

“I think…I need to go report you to Magnus.”

“WaiT LeiGH nO!!!!” Chases after her after tossing the gun on a nearby table.

Perceptor watches as he leaves with a blank look when there is a sound of breaking glass and one of his experiments suddenly comes after him with a scream.

[enigma-im]

Something About Her

Rating: General Relationship: Alien x F!Human Warning: Meet-cute, Stowaway on a ship, Confessing feelings, fluff

Word Count: 2756

Little stowaway endears herself to the ship's captain via botched escape attempts

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

The captain is far too busy. Working upon a freighter has never left room for idle joys. Every second is spent working for this poor man. Even conversations from his workers are sorted by category: important and not. If it can be handled without his help then he can't bother to remember it. Like his head of security informing him of a stowaway found in one of the unused rooms near the storage is. Once he said that it would be dealt with then he mentally threw it into the 'finished' bin.

Sorting through messages as he walks down the hall he barely pays anything a thought besides the tablet before him. Reaching a fork in the hall he looks up faintly hearing the pitter-patter of bare feet rushing towards him. Looking ahead he catches eyes with someone he doesn't know. The two freeze mid-action, looking to one another confused and cautious.

A woman stands before him, looking outlandish in her ragged clothing on such a prestige ship. She seems well into her age, around 30 if he had to guess based on his limited knowledge of humans. Her hair is wild and untamed like she has just woken. The captain would argue it still looked appealing though unkept. She was all-around attractive to the captain's surprise.

"Hello," he greets conflicted on what to do. A smile tweaks her lips for a moment before voices call from down the hall. The woman jumps into action, running away out of sight down the hall. The captain watches amused as his men run after the female, calling out to her in frantic attempts to cease her escape.

With a snort of a chuckle, the captain eagerly follows the crowd.

ouououo

The next time he meets the strange woman is in his office, a place he assumed was impenetrable to unwanted visitors. He is working at his desk like every day, growing strained at the hours of uninterrupted focus. He is startled by a loud thud by the corner of his room. A thin vent by the wall catches his attention, the noises seemingly coming from there. A critter couldn't have possibly gotten into the walls, right? They haven't been planetside in months, there is no way one founds its way on the ship.

The grate pops out from the floor, a hand following it as it claws at the floor. Another hand soon follows and then a head. The woman gasps as she rests her cheek on the ground, panting from the experience.

"You do know I have a door," the captain joked, smiling to himself. The woman snaps her head up, looking at him frightened. He chuckles, amused beyond belief on how this human managed to crawl through such a small hole. The way her shoulders are pinched strangely tells the captain that it was no easy feat.

After a moment of staring does the woman attempts to crawl back through the vent, shimming frantically. The captain jumps up out of his chair, reaching down and grabbing her arm.

"Now there is no reason to kill yourself going back down there," he scolds. She fights him till her hips tug on the walls of the vent. With a sigh she crawls out, standing before the captain with a stubborn amount of determination. He snickers to himself, adoring her more and more.

"Relax, take a seat," he walks back to his desk, pointing towards the chairs in the room. Confused, the woman looks around for some sort of trap before sitting. The captain plops into his seat, looking to her with an unrestrained smile.

"We haven't been properly introduced," he starts," I am Captain Reebok of the eighth division freighter."

She snorts, "reebok?" He can't help but grin when she says his name.

"That is me," he bows slightly.

"Your name is a shoe brand," she chuckles. He tries to take offense but her laughter numbs that feeling. He lets it pass, resting his head on his fist as he admires her.

"And who might you be," he asks. She stiffens, eyeing him skeptically. He can see the urge for her to run, it's written all over her tense shoulders.

"Monica," she spits out.

"It's lovely to meet you, Monica," he smiles.

uwuwuwuwu

The little human has made herself quite the menace on the ship despite everyone's constant reassurance of her safety. Her denial to speak with everyone has gotten them nowhere in figuring out where she is trying to go, or if she does intend to get somewhere. Though the captain and she have a tendency to cross paths. Those moments seem to be the only time she sits still, talking with him for a while before the crew comes to find her.

With a last-ditch effort, the crew keeps her in a heavily guarded room. No means of escape possible according to the security officer. The arrogant man is so confident in himself with this proclamation.

The captain makes his way down towards Monica's new room, eager to speak with her again. He meets up with the officer on the way, listening to him praise himself for keeping the sneaky human still for days now. The captain hears a bell of foreshadowing ringing every time the officer gloats about his measures.

The officer unlocks the door, smug as he walks in. The captain can almost hear a bell go off again as the officer walks out confused and angry.

The officer looks to his workers," where is she?" The captain bites back a snicker. The two guards look in the room, confused above all else. The three begin arguing, frantically looking for her while the captain takes a leisure stroll down the hall.

He looks to the ceiling, grinning like a fool as he stops. The officer quits his yelling to watch the captain reach up towards the ceiling. He hits a panel, knocking it off with a loud clang. Quickly he jumps up and grabs something, a startled squeak echoing through the hall.

The three security workers watched dumbfounded as the captain cradles the human in his arms, laughing as she huffs in defeat.

"Hello again, miss Monica," he sets her down," I can't wait to hear how you managed to get out this time."

"Wasn't hard, just tedious," she grumbles as she dusts off her shirt. Reebok shakes his head amused before waving her with him as he walks back down the hall.

"Come, I have lunch awaiting us," he says as she trots up beside him.

"Did you get those little cookies," she asks eagerly.

The three security guards watch completely bewildered as the duo walk ahead. They chat amicably like she wasn't just caught trying to escape once again. The officer sighs, this girl is going to be the death of him.

Ououou

"So why are you making my crew run around like a bunch of fools," Reebok finally asks. Monica expected the question at some point, surprised he was more interested in talking about other things first.

Monica lounges back on the couch, looking at reebok upside-down. "At first because I was scared. Stowaways aren't treated well, in my experience. Now, it's for fun," she says as she hangs her arms over the edge to touch the ground.

"I'll admit, watching my head of security get all red-faced is nearly the highlight of my week," he smirks. He fiddles with some work, having not intended to entertain this evening. Though she is currently hiding from the crew, what was he to do but take her in?

"What is the highlight of your week then, if not officer grouchy," she asks. Monica twists onto her stomach, watching him. He works on his tablet, looking as if he isn't paying attention.

"Catching you mid escape. I always adore the conversation after when you explain what happened," he nods to himself," it's not like there is a lot that goes on here besides work. I think the crew secretly enjoys chasing you around, gives them something to do besides stand about."

Monica smiles wide. It's nice to feel wanted for once.

"Is it honestly so boring around here that my company is wanted, even delighted in," she jokes but truly asking.

He shrugs," I don't think it's the sole reason. Speaking for myself here when I say that having you around has been a treat and if offered any other company I'd choose you every time."

"Flirt," she flusters, turning on her back to look at the ceiling. The captain finally sets down his tablet, admiring the woman. He didn't intend to sound flirtatious, it was the truth. He enjoys having her around, even thinking about offering her a job here instead of dropping her off at the next station. Yet, does his feeling go farther than casual feelings? Did he accidentally flirt with her? He hasn't done that in years.

He ponders this well after she sneaks off.

Ououou

It's a good few days of silence that unnerves the captain. He hasn't seen hide nor hair of miss Monica and it's starting to grate on him. It seems that the crew hasn't seen much of her lately either. The revelation that Monica is truly missing shakes the whole crew.

The day they realize she is gone is the day they drop all their work and look for her. The security workers ask everyone the last time they caught her snooping around. A lot of 'he said she said' tells that Monica was last seen a day ago, but only just barely. The captain looks high and low for her, meeting up with the head of security for updates. He is truly worried, feeling panicked at the idea of her hurt somewhere on his ship.

It's late in the day cycle when he finally finds her. He nearly misses her, walking past a room he previously scoped out. Doing a double-take he finds her in a low storage room sitting on the table that rests in the center of the room. She is holding her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knee. The captain sighs, releasing the tension for just a moment.

"Monica," he says, entering the room. She snaps her head up, meeting his worried gaze.

"oh, hey," she fidgets, unclasping her legs in favor of sitting cross-legged. It picks at Reebok that she is looking towards the floor now, not smiling like she usually does. He stops near the table, giving her a once over in hopes of observing what's wrong.

"We've been looking everywhere for you, no one has seen you for a few days," he explains smoothly, keeping his tone low. The timber comforts Monica.

"Sorry," she grumbles," I just wanted some time alone." he nods. The captain understands wanting to be left alone, it's what a lot of his workers crave when crammed together on this ship for months on end. Yet, this is different.

"Is something wrong," he asks.

She shrugs," kind of?"

He ducks down to meet her eyes," do you wanna talk about it?"

She shrugs again, shifting on the table to make room. Reebok catches on, climbing onto the table. He feels a bit ridiculous sitting up there instead of in one of the chairs littering the room but he can't bring himself to care. Instead, he waits patiently for her to speak.

"I'm worried," she starts," I've been here far longer than I meant to. I barely noticed till shortly after leaving the first waystation. It sort of just hit me then. I have never been on a ship this long. Hell, I haven't been caught in so long. Being a stowaway has become easy, jumping from ship to station and back again. That was my life. Now… now it's different. You guys don't treat me like a parasite stealing your food and using you for free rides. Despite the rocky start, you guys are nice. I like it here…"

"And that scares you," he finishes for her.

"yea," she sighs, dropping her shoulders," I like the crew and the mischief they get into. I like the security guys who run around like idiots all day trying to keep up with me. I also like you."

"because I hide you from the idiots trying to keep up with you," he jokes. He manages to get a smile from her, warming his heart.

"No, I just like you," she answers, looking to him," I really like you and I think that's the scariest thing of all."

Reebok is truly caught off guard at this moment. He stares dumbfounded at her, his heart running like a racehorse. So awestruck that he can't even figure what to do. The absents of a reaction rips at Monica, making her curl into herself.

"But that's ok if you don't have those feelings, I just wanted to get it out there. I was planning on leaving at the next station, which I heard is where you guys unload all this stuff. Was kind of funny actually, getting rid of storage while getting rid of the stowaway," she rambles on. Reebok would find this adorable if it wasn't so alarming. Hearing her admit her feelings is euphoric, but hearing her plans of leaving is like a cold shower.

Reebok reaches over and grabs Monica, spreading his legs to tug her between them. He hugs her, cradling her to his body. Her little hands press against his chest, feeling his heart pulse quickly against her palm. He presses a little kiss to her hair, gaining some courage before speaking.

"I don't want you to go," he starts," I've had more fun with you here these past few weeks than my whole time serving for this ship. I want nothing more than for you to stay, work for me, and be a part of my life. I like you, Monica, more than I'm willing to admit right now."

She stiffens, shoulder bunching and fist clenching, as he speaks. The words sounding like a melody to her ears.

"You like me," she asks with glee. Reebok pulls her away to look at her, smiling with a gleam in his eyes.

He presses a kiss to her cheek," of course I do, I'd be a fool otherwise."

Monica flusters, reacting with giddy as she grabs him and kisses him. He grunts, startled before overjoyed. He kisses her back, holding her dear while trying to fight back a wide smile.

"I want you to stay," he parts long enough to say," will you work for me?"

She chuckles, resting her head against his," what a weird proposal." he flounders at that, sputtering on his words. She stops him with a kiss," I'll work for you."

They sit amicably on the table, Reebok holding her as she drifts off to sleep. It seems this problem has weighed heavily on her shoulders for a while now, keeping her up. Though he rather she slept in an actual bed he can't deny wanting her in his arms more.

Steps echo from down the hall, bursting the private bubble they made here. Reebok looking over to the door catches sight of his head of security followed by two guards. He walks through the door, ready to speak before Reebok shushes him. The guards look from him to her, softening as they watch her sleep.

"Glad you found her," the head of security whispers," I'll let the crew know."

Reebok nods," can you also get some employment papers set up?"

He smiles," of course. Glad to have her aboard."

Reebok waves them out before scooting off the table, holding her as he walks out the room. He walks her towards his quarters, letting her rest in his bed for the time till her room can be arranged. Setting her down he tucks her in. He takes a moment to admire her, feeling calm at the view. With a sigh he turns away, thinking about all the neglected work piling up. A hand stops his retreat.

"Don't go," Monica grumbles half asleep. Her hands drop as she fully fades back into slumber, leaving reebok with a choice. He looks to the door then back to her, sighing in clear defeat as he kicks off his shoes.

Reebok crawls into bed behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and falling lax into the bed. Monica clenches his hand in hers, holding it close to her chest with a satisfied hum.

"Night," he kisses her shoulder.

"Night," she mumbles back.

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

Taking next weekend off for posting, be my first weekend this year I won’t post original content. I’m taking the time to finish up the ‘12 tropes for christmas’ stories. I so far have 7 out of 12 done and i’m excited to get them out on Dec. 14th - 25th.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[korissideblog]

ok! so! this fic was getting a bit long for my tastes, so i decided to split it into 2 parts!

even though they don't show up, i'll be mentioning two lovely characters in this fic, Haru from the amazing @compoundhero and Jetsam from the outstanding @jetsam-kisa <3

and without further ado! here's part 1/2 of-

The Hedonist

“Welcome back.” Aito walked into the library, a dimly lit room draped in darker reds, softly lit by simple reading lamps.

“Where is the rest of the team?” he asked, looking to the only filled seat in the entire room, a plush settee with a woman in an overly large white mink coat lying across it.

“I sent them away. We do our best thinking when no one else is bothering us- isn’t that what you said?” the woman offered, sitting up a bit to look at Aito more clearly. “You play dumb, but I know there’s more going on up there. Am I wrong?” she asked, only to be answered with silence as Aito sat down in an armchair nearby.

“Will you ever tell me your name, Checkmate? I’ve told you mine.” Yua Sakura said, truthfully. “I think it’s only fair.”

“I’m a man of my word, Sakura san.” Aito responded calmly, settling into the chair and accepting the tablet Sakura passed to him. “I’ll tell you my name on my deathbed- only so you know what to put on the gravestone.” he chuckled, opening the tablet to find the plans already open.

Sakura rolled her eyes but dropped it quickly. This wasn’t the first time she’s asked for the man’s real name, and it won’t be the last. “I’ve already secured the bank’s blueprints. Consider our entrance my responsibility. If we’re in the vault, how would you plan our escape?” she asked, clearly still testing the newest recruit of their team, despite the fact that he’s been a full fledged member for almost a year now.

Aito looked over the plans with a critical eye, swiping marks onto the blueprint till she was satisfied, and held it up to present her idea. “The vents. If you can remove the screws while the rest of the team fills the bags, we could escape rather quickly.” Aito gestured to the woman’s hands, referencing her quirk.

And what an interesting quirk Sakura had. She had a form of telepathy, but the largest thing she could lift was a pencil. What really gave the woman’s quirk it’s bite, though, was the smallest thing she could lift. Her quirk let her quickly detach and lift tiny molecules, all at once. Aito once watched her deteriorate a man's fingernails in only the span of a handshake- and it was the most terrifying thing Aito’s ever seen.

“Interesting… Why the vents?” she asked, looking over the tablet carefully.

“Because-” Aito said, pointing to a shaded line going through the walls of the bank. “This is a gas line. If we set off even the smallest explosion…” Aito imitated a large explosion, which made Sakura smile wickedly.

“Oh Checkmate,” she giggled, clapping her hands together in glee. “Oh I just knew you would have the perfect idea! And they say blondes are dumb!” Aito’s jaw dropped in annoyance, touching her bleached hair in defensiveness. “Now now, don’t make that face, pet.” she laughed, waving off Aito with a flick of her wrist. “You know I jest. I’d never question a mind like yours, why, people like us- we just have to stick together.”

“People like us?” Aito questioned, setting the tablet down onto a nearby end table.

“Yes, People like us- us with quirks… predisposed for villany.” Sakura hummed, slumping further into her seat comfortably. “I mean let’s be honest with ourselves, once we’d gotten our quirks, we both must have known where we would end up. And it’s hardly our fault honestly- I mean how else would we have made use of our abilities?”

“I believe my quirk to be neutral.” Aito shrugged, mirroring Sakura’s comfort by souching into her armchair- and quietly wishing he had put on something with a bit more fabric. His usual crop top and biker shorts were of little comfort to him in the colder parts of the hideaway. “I really could have been anything with a quirk like mine. Hell, I could have even been a hero.” Aito quickly decided that sitting around wouldn’t keep him warm, and swung himself out of his seat to look over the books that surrounded them, still staying close enough to speak to Sakura.

“You don’t really believe all that, do you?” Sakura asked, her eyes following Aito like a panther watching its prey. Predatory, yet patient. She watched as Aito carefully touched the spine of nearly every book on a shelf, not answering, but still listening. “Why, maybe I could have had a chance but… your quirk in particular? Checkmate, what else could you have done except for villainy? I mean, I’d even go so far as to call your gift inherently evil.” and that… that seemed to still him.

Aito no longer pretended not to hear, her hand shaking minutely before she rested it onto the shelf and looked over his shoulder to Sakura. He took a book from the shelf and opened it randomly, wandering behind the settee as she looked over the text. It was some sort of book of mythology, and Aito’s fingers brushed over a small drawing of a little girl with a fox tail. She noticed Sakura reaching for her, but flinched away before her hand met his waist. One of the pros to wearing such little clothing was that most people didn’t want to reach for Aito, in fear of touching his skin. The awkwardness of human contact being the only thing that protected Aito from this villain’s grasp.

And Aito was sure that if she ever were to touch him, he would scream. And kick. And bite.

“Sakura san? Why did you become a villain?”

Sakura chuckled, pleased to have finally caught her partner’s attention. “I’ve already said it. I had little other choice, given my abilities.” she shrugged, looking up at Aito with a smile, and carefully laying a hand onto the book, their fingers brushing together softly. “And you, pet?” she asked softly

Aito’s eyes looked away from Sakura and to a nearby window, a small sliver of the starry night slipping between the thick velvet curtains, her eyelashes fluttering minutely as she thought.

“It was my love of strawberry ice cream.”

Sakura laughed, but Aito’s serious face gave her pause, calming herself before letting her partner continue. “Apologies, Checkmate, please continue.” Aito nodded, and flipped lazily through the book’s pages as she spoke.

“When I was a child, my mother would sometimes bring me to work with her. If I behaved myself, she would then take me for ice cream.” Aito started again, seemingly more involved in the book she wasn’t reading than the conversation he didn’t want to be having. “One time they were out of chocolate, so we got strawberry instead. I soon fell in love with the flavor, and got it every time we went.” Aito fought the smile that tried to crack her serious expression, but a ghost of it remained. “High school was hard on me. I was home schooled, and my high school had on campus boarding. Up to that point the longest I’ve spent away from my mother were the few hours when she would sleep, and now I had to spend an entire school year with only visits on the weekend.” Aito then snapped the book close, almost catching Sakura’s fingers between the pages. Aito barely blinked in apology. “I was homesick, and smuggled a bucket of strawberry ice cream into my dorm room. I ate the entire thing, and became sick soon after.” She then tossed the book into Sakura’s lap, not wishing to even touch it now that it had lost his interest. “I had to miss class for a day, and missed very important notes. After that I failed an important test, and my teacher started to worry for me. He asked another-more advanced-student to help me with my work, and we became close friends soon after.”

“What was their name?” Sakura asked, taking the book in her hands.

Aito was silent for a moment. “I called him big cat.” she finally responded, vaguely. Taking her turn to watch as Sakura opened the book. “After him, my other classmates seemed much more approachable.”

“This story isn’t about big cat, is it now?” Sakura hummed, looking from the book’s yellowed pages up to Aito, who was focused on the book with a deadly stare.

“No. it isn’t.”

“Who then, pet?”

Aito paused again, as if trying to find a way to describe her memories from her youth.

“He was a very nervous boy.” Aito started, her eyes fluttering shut as he tried to remember his friend as vividly as possible. “He’d be surrounded by clouds of this vicious black smog- his quirk, he would always produce the foulest smoke wherever he went.”

“You were irritated by him?” Sakura offered.

“No, never.” Aito responded quickly. “I had a habit of taking in the nervous ones. He wasn’t the first, and he wouldn’t be the last.”

“Oh, then I apologize for interrupting.” Sakura chuckled, patting Aito’s arm, which Aito gently pulled out of her grasp. “What drew you to him in the first place?”

Aito sighed, cursing his terrible memory as he tried to recall. “When not in uniform… he’d wear the prettiest clothes.” Aito explained. “One sweater in particular… it was pink I believe… It was softer than a cloud. I think I stole it from him- I probably wore it more than he did.” Aito said, letting the smallest smile show on her face as he touched his arm, as if he were wearing the sweater right this second.

“You tend to do that.” Sakura laughed, poking humorously into Aito’s side. “Remember when you wore one of my dresses to that charity gala?”

“I wore it better than you would have.” Aito quipped, immediately invoking another laugh from Sakura.

“Oh, you’re much too quick witted” Sakura giggled, wiping her dry eyes as though she had been laughing much harder. Aito nodded slowly, but kept his face flat.

“He… he’s the reason I don’t believe you when you say that our quirks can decide things for us.” Aito explained. “He was nothing like his quirk would suggest. Despite all the smoke, he was a pleasant boy.”

“Ohh… but, I asked you why you became a villain, pet. This boy, why do you mention him?” she finally asked, noticing Aito resting his hands on the back of the settee and carefully placing her’s onto his. Aito’s pained silence left Sakura a bit off guard, but she slowly came to a conclusion that… she could only hope her guess was wrong. “Is he… gone from us?” she asked, letting Aito assume her meaning.

“No.” Aito huffed, his grip on the settee’s back tightening slightly as she turned away from Sakura.

“What then? What could have happened that’s made you this upset?” she asked, her red eyes never faltering from her teammate’s face.

“He…” Aito finally turned away, as if even saying it out loud was too much. “He turned his back on me.”

“Oh… pet…” Sakura whispered, carefully patting his hand in an attempt to comfort him. “Loss can be hard… especially when the loss isn’t permanent… when it’s a choice someone makes.” Sakura hadn’t a clue how to ease this pain, completely unused to her teammate showing this amount of vulnerability around her. “If it’s any comfort at all… I’m thankful for you, the entire team is- you must know this by now.” Sakura suffered through another silence, wishing that Checkmate would just tell her how to help him. “What was… pet… what did you call him?” Aito looked back for just a second, his eyes trained on the floor as he tried to gain the courage to finally speak.

“Jetsam Kisa.”

[trashyswitch]

Oh For Fox Sake!

Michael didn't expect to be given a completely separate job besides the technician job he signed up for in Circus Baby's Pizza World. Now he's sitting in an office with animatronics hunting them down. One of the animatronics happens to be another foxy abbreviation. But this one...gives him many mixed emotions...

This fanfic was suggested by an anonymous person on Tumblr. Whoever you are: I hope you enjoy!

Also, I had no clue what gender to make Lolbit. So, I just gave Lolbit the pronouns they/them/it and followed it throughout. Please let me know if I mistyped anywhere! I'll try to fix it right away.

Michael was sitting in the small private office that had been hidden in the side of one of the PizzaPlex’s auditoriums. He had been working at the Pizzeria as a technician, and was just now given a few security guard shifts. This office was surprisingly a little bigger than the vents. It was also much more darker, and had PizzaPlex merchandise hidden on the table. It even had a black fan roaring away on the desk. Learning from general online rumors, every office that was built within every building made by Fazbear Entertainment, would have Fazbear merchandise and a fan. Some person named [Fitz-coward] on a public chat room called it the ‘Fazfan’. A few other people had given their own opinion on the ‘fazfan’ and even made jokes about it. It was kinda funny at first. But now that it had relevance on a personal level, it actually made sense.

It’s amazing what a few bouts of curiosity will lead you to find…And those poor guys...They’ve probably dealt with so much fear after that job.

Michael checked the tablet and checked the cameras that were available to him. He had to keep an eye on a couple specific animatronics such as Ennard, Funtime Freddy with tiny Bonbon, and Lolbit. Michael hadn’t even heard of Lolbit until this point. Who in the heck was Lolbit?! Only when he saw the orange animatronic staring at him through the hall camera, did he get his answer. It looked to be a twin version of Funtime Foxy. But was it Foxy’s brother? Or sister? What gender even was it? Now that he thought about it: What gender is Foxy?!

Michael heard sounds coming from the left hallway, and noticed that Lolbit was back with its jaw open and ready to crush. Michael bit his lip and closed the door on it. Out of this room! Begone! Scat! Leeeeaaave! He was not in the mood for Lolling around.

Hehehe...Lolling…

Michael looked at the hallways and groaned. Ennard’s broken body was on his way too. Wonderful… Michael kept his hand on the open door and made sure to leave some time to close it on the evil monstrosity. Michael looked over at the other hallway, and noticed that Lolbit was gone. So closed went the right door, and open went the left. Ennard was now locked out, and Lolbit was long gone.

Michael smiled and checked the right door to make sure Ennard was unable to get in. When he was sure, Michael relaxed slightly.

One thing Michael noticed was just how quickly the day seemed to be going. It was already 3:30 and the animatronics were being at least a little more behaved. It’s weird and usually worrisome whenever he does anything involving the animatronics. Whether it’s a loving animatronic like Funtime Freddy and BonBon, or a vengeful animatronic like Ennard, Michael didn’t wanna have anything to do with either. He’s seen enough of the animatronics behaviour to say “I’m out”.

And yet...here he was: back at it again with more shifts.

Hearing sounds, Michael closed the left door again. But suddenly, an ear-deafening bang overwhelmed Michael’s ears.

A few seconds later, another loud bang went off.

...And another.

One last bang filled his pain-filled ears as the huge metal door he closed earlier, started to fall in front of him. Michael shrieked and covered his ears, watching in horror as the huge door came crashing down just inches in front of him. Michael was visibly shaking from the super loud noises. His ears were ringing as well. It was like a gun just went off beside his ear multiple times!

Just as the metal sound slowly stopped echoing throughout the room, some loud and boyish laughter filled the office. “HOHAHAHAHAha! Now I bet you weren’t ex-xpecting ME, now WERE you? OhOHOHOhahaha!” a manic voice asked.

Michael widened his eyes in horror as he scooted to the corner of the room. “No...NO!”

“Oh YES! HAHAHAHAhah! You-u RECOGNIZE ME! DONTCHA?” They asked.

Michael grabbed his flashlight and started flashing it nonstop into the animatronic’s eyes. “Get out of here! This is MY private spot!”

Lolbit walked closer and hit the flashlight right out of his hands. “Su-Such a BAAABY…” Lolbit muttered out loud. “Hmmm...Maybe try ha-A-A-arder next time! HAHAhaHAHAHaha!” It suggested.

“I DID try harder! YOU’RE the one who broke the door down!” Michael argued.

The animatronic looked down and chuckled awkwardly. “O-Oh yeah! I forgot about tha-A-at!” It reacted.

Michael sighed. “Just please Lolbit...Go.”

The animatronic smiled and walked closer and closer to Michael just to spite him. “Since WHE-E-EN could you tell ME what to do? You’ve got qui-I-I-ite the NERVE!” Lolbit reacted.

“Yeah, I do! And I learned it on my own, thank you very much.” Michael added.

“My My! Such a ta-A-A-alker! I wonder: Does that mo-0-O-outh of yours have a benefit?” Lolbit asked.

“Sometimes. I could use it to lead you away so that I don’t end up dying tonight.” Michael reworded.

“HAhahahAHAHAha! Be ca-A-areful what you wi-I-I-ish for~!” Lolbit teased.

Michael raised an eyebrow.

Lolbit knelt down and picked up Michael by the armpits. Michael shrieked in horror and quickly started wiggling and fighting it. “HEY! GET OFF ME! LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!” Michael shouted.

“Haaaaa...And what will you do-O-O if I DON’T?” Lolbit asked with a sly voice.

“I’ll-I’ll tickle you!” Michael shot back without even properly thinking.

Lolbit widened its eyes and stared at Michael.

“Y-Yeah! I’ll do it! I’m not afraid to tickle you!” Michael added, adding wiggling fingers as he went along with it. “Unless you’re not ticklish…”

Lolbit stared off into the space within Michael’s eyes, and only blinked once out of awkwardness...Then, the fox full on dropped Michael where he was. Michael grunted as he landed on his butt onto the slightly dusty ground.

“Ow…” Michael muttered. “Wait, really?” Michael reacted suddenly. Lolbit turned right around and started to speed walk their way outta there. But Michael quickly pulled himself together and grabbed Lolbit’s foot. “Gotcha!”

“aAAA-A-A-AAAH! HEY! I LET YOU GO!” Lolbit yelled at him.

“Yeah, and that made me curious!” Michael replied. “I might’ve been originally joking when I said that. But the moment you dropped me and tried to run, I HAD to find out if animatronics were ticklish.” Michael told it. “Or, if they can simulate being ticklish.” Michael added. “Same difference in my opinion.”

Lolbit leaned against the wall and shook their leg. “Get off me-E-E!” it yelled.

“No way!” Michael replied. He took advantage of the exposed foot and skittered his fingers on it. “Tickle tickle~”

Lolbit shrieked with voice glitches in between, and threw Michael right off the leg with a strong kick. Michael went flying, and ended up hitting his back against the wall on the other side of the office. Michael groaned and laid on his back for a moment, trying to make sure he didn’t break his back or injure it further. When Michael could feel his legs and see his feet reacting to his movements, Michael sat back up and stood. “Ow...All that because you’re sensitive?” Michael asked.

Lolbit pointed at him. “Stop that!” It ordered. “O-Or I’ll get you back!” Lolbit warned.

Michael looked at himself and smirked. “Sounds like a sacrifice worth taking in my opinion!” Michael sprinted up to Lolbit and dove for them. Lolbit shrieked like a freaking witch, and tried to run away. But Michael had an unfair headstart and had managed to grab hold of its orange and white tail! “LE-e-ET GO-”

Michael managed to shut up the fox with a single squeeze to the side. It helped that Lolbit came with curvy, dented plates on both lower sides! Cause otherwise, he probably wouldn’t have been able to squeeze there.

“HEheheEHEHEY! HAHANDS OHOHohohOFF!” Lolbit yelled.

“Why would I do that when I have a ticklish fox in my arms?” Michael asked back. “This is fun!”

Lolbit shook their head. “IHIHIS NAHAhahaAHAHAT!”

Michael chuckled. “A little reminder that you kicked me across the room just a couple minutes ago. You are much stronger than me. So if you really hated it So MuCh…” Michael moved his fingers up to the middle ribs- “You could easily stop me.” Michael concluded.

“IHIHIT’S A-A-AGAINST MY COHOHODE TOHO HUHURT YOHOHOHOU!” Lolbit yelled.

“Is it now?” Michael asked. “It’s against my code to damage you even minorly! We both have the same laws.” Michael admitted. “And yet: you’ve kicked me already. So you would’ve already ‘hurt’ me. But notice this: no one gave you a controlled shock for throwing me. Therefore:” Michael moved to Lolbit’s orange belly. “Yooouuu kinda like it~”

Lolbit squealed and doubled over. Sensing they were gonna fall, Lolbit pushed Michael out of the way and allowed itself to flop onto its side. “Nohoho...Nohoho moho-O-ohore.” Lolbit begged.

Michael fell a bit backwards, but didn’t hit the ground very hard this time. He got up and looked at Lolbit with interest. “You...saved me.” Michael reacted.

“You’re a hu-U-U-uman! Of COURSE I saved you!” Lolbit opened its jaw. “Ihihi-I-I would be in big trouble if I-i-I damaged you under my care.” Lolbit admitted.

Michael smiled at that. “Thanks for saving me from being crushed.” Michael told it.

Lolbit giggled. “Are you ca-A-alling me fat?” Lolbit asked jokingly.

Michael widened his eyes and covered his mouth. “NO! NO WAY! I would never call you fat! ESPECIALLY intentionally!” Michael reacted loudly.

Lolbit bursted out laughing. “HAHAHAhahahahAHAHA! Yohohou’re so GULLiBLE! It’s HI-i-ILARIOUS!” Lolbit reacted, leaning over and laughing towards the ground.

Michael smirked. “You wanna laugh, huh? Alright! Let’s laugh.” Michael crawled back up to the fox and grabbed the ankle. Lolbit’s giggles quickly paused and were replaced with shrieked of artificial fear! “Wa-A-ait!” Lolbit yelled.

Michael started tickling the underside of the feminine-looking foot almost right away. Lolbit started kicking their other foot and covered its snout as it laughed with glitches in between. “HEHEHEHE-e-EHEY! NAHAHAT THEHEheheheHEHEHERE!” Lolbit protested.

“Why not? Ticklish foot, much?” Michael teased.

“Whahahahat dohoho YOHOhoHOU THIHI-i-IHINK?!” Lolbit shot back.

Michael gasped and paused for a moment. “You’ve got quite the NERVE!” Michael reacted, referencing Lolbit’s words from earlier. Michael even made his voice slightly scratchy and higher to make it sound similar to Lolbit’s for the next words: “Such a BAAABY…”

Lolbit bursted out laughing more. “AAHAHAHAHahahaHAHA! THAHAT WA-a-AHAS TEHEHERRIBLE!” Lolbit reacted.

“Oh! Was it now?” Michael reacted. He moved up to Lolbit’s cute, flat and decorated toes. “It couldn’t have been THAT bad, could it?” Michael teased.

Lolbit threw their head back and started letting out fits of glitchy cackles. “NOHOHOHO-o-o-OHOHOhohoho! TOHOHO-o-O MUHU-H-H-huhuHUHuch!” Lolbit yelled to him.

Michael just laughed with them. “Wohohow! Your laugh is going all over the place! It doesn’t know what it’s doing!” Michael teased, pausing his tickling to show them. “It’s up here! Then it’s down here! It goes from SO LOUD, TO super soft...soooo soft...And THEN IT JUMPS UP AGAIN!” Michael teased much more dramatically.

Lolbit shook their head back and forth and kept kicking their other foot. “IHIHI CAHahahahaAHAHAn’T HEHE-e-E-e-EHEHELP IHIhihIHIHIT!” Lolbit yelled back.

“Well duh! Of course you can’t help it! It’s like my snorting! I can’t help it either! But it’s still funny!” Michael added.

Lolbit gently pushed Michael away with its foot on his chest. “Ohohokahay, thahat’s ehe-E-ehehenough.” Lolbit ordered.

“Ey ey, captain.” Michael replied with a salute.

“Hehehey now: I ain’t the captain around here.” Lolbit sat up and looked at Michael. “Foxy is the legenda-A-ary captain aro-O-O-ound these parts!” Lolbit mentioned.

“Really now?” Michael reacted.

“Yeah! AhehEHEHEhehehe! Indeed he is! He’s a version of the original! A family of Foxy’s! I’m more of a-A-a second-in-command!” Lolbit admitted.

“You’re still important though. I think you’re still important.” Michael mentioned.

Lolbit’s ears perked up. “Hey! Thanks ki-I-id! You’re quite swell yerself!” Lolbit replied.

Michael smiled. “Thank you.”

The two of them sat in silence for a bit. It was a good silence, though a little uncomfortable. They just didn’t really know what to say. Lolbit’s break-in was a success, and Michael’s questions were already answered.

Though there was one last question…

“Hey Lolbit?” Michael asked. Lolbit looked up at Michael and lifted their ears up a little. “How come I haven’t seen you until now?” Michael asked.

Lolbit’s ears and snout both fell at that question. Lolbit tapped their orange fingernail on the ground as they came up with an answer. “Well...Foxy wa-A-as adored more by kids. Kids L-L-loved a purple and pink fox better than an orange fox.” Lolbit replied.

Michael’s curious face morphed into a hurt expression.

“And I didn’t mat-AT-atch the other guys.” Lolbit added.

Michael frowned at that. “Well, Circus Baby doesn’t match the general aesthetic either.” Michael added.

Lolbit looked at Michael out of the corner of its black, void eyes. “Circus Baby is-s dangerous. She-E broke the rule. She no-NO-no longer entertains.” Lolbit admitted.

Michael hummed curiously. He began to wonder what exactly Circus Baby did to get so badly in trouble. But, knowing his father and his motives…

Maybe it’s a good thing he doesn’t know the specifics.

Lolbit looked back up at Michael. “I ha-A-ave a question.” They told him. Michael looked up and gave Lolbit his full attention. “Is it tru-TrUE that you snort when you laugh?” Lolbit asked.

Michael’s eyes widened as he processed the question. Oh no…

Michael quickly tried to scoot back and run away. But Lolbit was one step ahead of him. Lolbit had grabbed Michael’s ankle and had pulled him closer. “Hey now! HAHAheheheHaHA!” Lolbit put their hands around his waist. “You’re not go-GOing ANYWHERE! HEheheHEHEHEE!” Lolbit declared, laughing themself silly as they used their dark eyes to scan for tickle spots. “You had your at-AT-attack! Now it’s MY TU-TURN! AHUHUHuhuhUHUHUUU!” Lolbit declared proudly. Lolbit immediately started out with quick scratches on the belly. “Tickle tickle s-security guard~” Lolbit teased.

Michael squealed and covered his mouth in an attempt to prevent any laughs or snorts from coming out. Lolbit noticed this and immediately pinned one of Michael’s arms above his head. “AhahahaHAHAHAAA! No che-CHE-cheating on my watch!” Lolbit declared. “And just for that:” Lolbit started tickling in Michael’s now vulnerable armpit.

Michael threw his head back and LAUGHED! “BAHAAAHAHAHAhahaha! NAHAT THEHEHERE! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!” Michael yelled.

“Oooooh! Why not? HEHEHEhehehe! Ti-TI-ticklish armpit, much?” Lolbit teased, saying the same thing Michael used on him. “I guess you could sa-say THIS ticklish spot is u-UNDER investigation~” Lolbit said as the fox poked its finger further into Michael’s armpit.

Michael whined. “Thahahat Whahahas TEHEHEHERRIBLE!” Michael complained.

“Wo-Would you say it was punny?” lolbit asked. Or maybe…” Lolbit poked Michael’s shoulder- “Huuuumerus~?”

Michael shook his head and pushed against his snout. “STAHAHAHAP!”

“Wow! I didn’t know my jo-jokes were so…” Lolbit moved their fingers to Michael’s ribs and started digging and skittering. “Riiib-tickling~! AHAHAhahahahaHUUUU!”

Michael threw his head back and cackled loudly with snorts mixed in.

“Oh WOOOW! You really DO SNORT! You-ou must be the life of the PARTY! Or maybe even the life of the PORKY~?” Lolbit teased.

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP!” Michael shouted at him.

“HAHAhahaHAHA! Why would I do that when I could ke-keep making animal jokes?” Lolbit asked rhetorically as they moved their metal nails up and down the ribs. “Be-Besides: Fazbear Entertainment should have made me-ME a parrot! Cause I am a HOOT! I KEET you not!” Lolbit teased.

Michael growled and shook his head. “IHIHIHI HAHAHAHATE THEHEHEM!” Michael shouted. “THEHEHEY’RE SOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAD!”

“Hate them?! But look!” Lolbit poked his mouth. “You‘re smil-iling! And you’re laughing at them! And tha-that with your piggy snorts mixed in, is a real tweet~! Ahahaha!” Lolbit joked.

Lolbit narrowed its eyes and brought its snout closer to Michael. “Ohoho...Excuse me- does it look like I ha-HA-have a black beard to you?!” Lolbit reacted all sassy. Michael giggled more at the fox’s reaction. “Ooooh...You’re trying to toy with the robot! I seeee says the blind man!” Lolbit reacted. Lolbit started tickling Michael’s sides this time. “And I feeeel your fingers, says the nerveless Nellie~” Lolbit added.

Michael yelped and groaned through his new fit of laughter. “HEHehehehey! *snort* THAHAhahahat’s nohohohot- *snort* hohohow ihihihit gohohohoes!” Michael protested.

“Ohoho alright. Ihi-I suppose that pun was a bit of a stretch.” Lolbit decided before finally letting Michael go.

Michael went limp and started panting right away. There were still phantom tickles plaguing him, causing him to giggle and squirm through his shallow breathing.

“I suppose I should be band from funny boneville?” Lolbit finished off.

“Ihihi will shohohock you.” Michael warned with an uncontrollable giggle.

“Ohohoho! How enlightening! Perhaps even frightening!” Lolbit teased.

Lolbit finally stopped with the puns the moment Michael squeezed their sides. There were just too many puns all at once. Perhaps they would be all over now…

No fox were given during the making of this Fazfan-fic. Are these puns bad enough for you, anon? XD

[arcturusreads]

DO WE GET A PART 3 OF CHRISTMAS WHISKEY?!?! CAUSE I NEED ONE

Christmas Whiskey Part 3 - Merhayes

Here's a part three for you guys and I think this is the last part I've got for this but I had so much fun writing Christmas Whiskey. I wasn't expecting it to be a multi-chap fic but it's been so much fun to write. Hope you enjoy it, lovely . You can find part 1 here and part 2 here

They were midway through their second movie of the evening, Leo, Scout and Allison had already been taken upstairs having fallen asleep towards the end of the first film. Irene couldn’t help but keep glancing at Cormac and Meredith on the sofa together. She was well aware of the way that Cormac would often stare at Meredith whilst she was watching the film. The way he would ask her if she needed anything whenever she would move around in her seat.

Dumb, Irishman. She could help the thought. She’d sat down with multiple times since he’d moved to Seattle, telling him that Abigail wanted to see him happy, wanted him to find love again.

She wanted him to find love again. Cormac had become a brother to her, no need to the in-law part anymore. Of course, she missed her sister and seeing Cormac was someone else might be a bit weird, but he didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life alone.

The boys were teenagers now, It wouldn’t be long until they were off to college and there was no one home with Cormac. No one to vent to, no one to laugh with. All Irene wanted for Cormac was for him to fall in love, but the stubborn, dumb Irishman seemed to be digging his heels in even when it was staring him right in the face. More like even when he was staring at it right in the face. Repeatedly.

Pulling her eyes away from the film for a moment, Meredith looked down at the floor and smiled at the sight of her kids. A quiet laugh escaped her lips when she saw that Ellis had fallen asleep, half on top of Austin. Curious as to what had amused Mer so much, Cormac looked over and grinned.

“Looks like Ellis found a pillow,” he whispered.

Shaking her head Meredith stood up and stretched, “I’m surprised she didn’t crash earlier if I’m honest.”

She crouched down to where Austin was sat with Ellis, “I’m really sorry about her.”

“It’s cool, really. She was talking to me about the movie and two seconds later she passed out but I don’t mind if she stays here.”

Meredith laughed, “That sounds like her. I should probably get her in bed though and you can have your arm back.”

Gently, Meredith rubbed Ellis’ back, trying to coax her out of her sleep. “Come on, baby girl, it’s bedtime.”

Ellis slowly opened her eyes, rubbing them with and looking around, slightly disorientated. “But the film,” she whined.

“Ellie Belle, I think you’ve already missed most of it. Come on sweet girl, I’ll put it on for you another day, okay?”

Ellis thought about it for a minute before nodding. As Meredith stood up, Ellis reached up both hands wanting to be carried up to bed. Cormac could sense Meredith’s hesitation; he knew that she had was still struggling with exhaustion and the effects of Covid.

He quickly got up from the sofa and scooped Ellis up off of the floor, lifting her in the air before placing her on his hip. Her giggles reminded him of Meredith, she truly was her mother’s daughter.

“I hope you don’t mind if I help you take this little munchkin up to bed, Grey.” He knew that if he had offered to help her pick Ellis up, Meredith would have flat out refused.

“Please, momma,” Ellis big, puppy dog eyes had broken any resolve that Meredith had to tell Cormac that there was no need.

“Alright then,” she tapped Ellis on the nose.

“Do you want us to pause the movie, mommy?” Zola looked up at her mom who shook her head.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We won’t be long.”

Irene watched the three of them as the trooped upstairs and couldn’t help but thing how domesticated all of this was. For two people who weren’t dating, they certainly had a good family unit between them.

Meredith led the way to Ellis’ bedroom and as soon as Cormac had put the little girl down she made a beeline straight for her bed.

“Uh, uh. I don’t think,” Meredith stopped her in her tracks. “Teeth first and then you can get into bed.”

“But momma!”

“No buts, come one! You want strong, healthy teeth, right?” Ellis nodded at her. “Then you have to go and brush them, come on, I’ll help.”

“I want Dr Mac to help!”

Meredith turned to Cormac and raised a brow. “Dr Mac?”

“Aye, well, I may have spoken to your kids on the tablet whilst you were in hospital and Ellis wanted to know who I was.”

This was definitely full of surprises. Meredith had known that he had visited her in her room whilst she had been in a coma, even if he hadn’t admitted it to her when she’d asked. She hadn’t expected him to have spoken to her kids though. It made sense why they had felt so comfortable with him coming down today though. She knew that her kids could be a little protective over her at times, especially Zola.

Meredith turned back to her daughter, “Come on, then. I’m sure Dr Mac would love to help.”

She held out her hand for Ellis to grab and went to the bathroom that the kids shared with Cormac trailing behind them. Whilst Meredith got Ellis’ toothbrush ready, she wasn’t willing to tidy up the inevitable mess of toothpaste around the sink today, Mac lifted Ellis up so she was sitting on the counter, legs kicking back and forth.

When she was done brushing her teeth, Cormac picked Ellis back up and carried her into her room.

“You’re spoiling her you know.”

“Princesses were born to be spoilt, Grey,” he called over his shoulder, Ellis giggling away in his arms.

As Meredith tucked her into bed, Cormac leant against the doorframe. He couldn’t help but admire Meredith as a mother. He had seen as a doctor, as a friend, as a colleague but this was a new side of her that he hadn’t been exposed to and it just caused another rush of emotions within him. He saw how the way she made each one of her kids feel important, how she was determined to make time for them regardless of how busy work was. She was more than just her job and he wanted to know every single thing about her. He wasn’t quite that even that would be enough.

Meredith sat on the edge of Ellis bed, whispering to her and stroking her hair until the little girl fell back to sleep. Kissing her forehead, Meredith gently and quietly got up from the bed and almost jumped out of her skin when she turned around and saw Cormac still standing there. Ushering him out of the room, Meredith turned off the light, whispered one last goodnight to her youngest and quickly shut the door behind her.

“You know you could have gone back downstairs ages ago; you didn’t have to wait here.” They moved further along the passage, so their voices wouldn’t wake Ellis up.

Cormac slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Well, I didn’t want Ellis thinking that Dr Mac was running away from her the first chance he got.

“You know you’re going to have to tell me what you’ve said to my kids to make them like you so much.”

“Well, that just for us to know and for you to find out. You know, Grey, they were exactly like you when you first met me.”

Meredith narrowed her eyes, “And what’s that meant to mean?”

Chuckling, Cormac lent back on his heels. “Oh, you know, a little apprehensive of me but they warmed up to me a lot quicker than you did.”

“You think I’ve warmed up to you?” She teased.

Cormac took a step towards Meredith. “I sure as hell hope so, Grey.” The teasing tone was gone, his voice dropped.

Meredith’s breath hitched in her throat and Cormac took another step towards her, closing any distance there was between them. He cupped her face, running his thumb up and down her cheek. Cormac leaned down and Meredith stood on her toes, their noses brushing before the sound of china smashing on the floor downstairs made them jump apart.

“We should- uh, go and see what that is…” Meredith suddenly didn’t know what to do with herself, looking anywhere but at Cormac.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Cormac winced, annoyed that yet another chance had been blown between them. “Yeah, you lead the way.”

Hearing the disappointment in his voice Meredith finally looked at him and realised that he wanted that moment to happen just as much as she had. “We should pick this up another time, maybe when there are so many people around?”

She smiled gingerly at him, hoping that she hadn’t completely misread the signals because that would be just her luck. The smile that appeared on Cormac’s face was enough to ease the worries she had though.

“Sounds like a plan, Grey.”

[chachkayes]

Hi here’s a prompt: Hayes introducing Meredith to Irene 🥺🥺🥺

Smile

Thank you so much for the prompt! It was so much fun to write after being so sick all weekend, I really hope it meets what you had in mind! Enjoy!

“C’mon ‘Mac, why can’t I meet her now? You said she got off the breathing tube.” Irene pressed into her brother-in-law, wanting nothing more than to meet the woman who made him smile again. “Because, she hasn’t woken up yet. And when she does, she is going to want to talk to her kids and the rest of her family first. She’s been out for a while.” Hayes quickly shot back, and Irene rolled her eyes. “Fine, but I’m talking to her before I leave this place!” She called out as he headed for the door to her recovery room. 

-

“Is she awake yet?” Irene asked the next morning when Hayes came to check on her before his shift. “I don’t know.” He responded, trying his best to keep a stoic face. “Oh yeah, I definitely believe you.” She responded sarcastically, smiling from under her mask. “She woke up late last night.” Hayes finally broke, grinning, and Irene followed suit. “Oh ‘Mac that’s amazing, have you gone to see her yet?” She asked, to which Hayes shook his head. “I will, when she’s had a chance to talk to her family and get caught up to speed.”

“Fine, but I better know who she is and what she looks like before tomorrow! I can’t keep imagining her with the description given to me by the boys.” Irene demanded, she would meet the woman her brother-in-law talked about with a smile she hadn’t seen since her sister was alive, if it was the last thing she’d ever do. She knew she’d have to report back to her nephews when she got home from the hospital. “I’ll ask if she wants to meet you later today. Can you leave me alone about this now?” Hayes pleaded, he was still figuring out how to navigate the feelings he’d developed for Meredith and it pained him that Irene had gotten involved. She was just as stubborn as the woman she wanted to meet. “Fine.” 

-

“You off today or something?” Was the text that caught Hayes off-guard a few hours into his shift. Meredith. He’d avoided her room, wanting her to have the chance to talk to Maggie, Amelia, Bailey, Richard, and her kids before he went in to talk to her. He hadn’t expected her to text him, and he certainly didn’t expect her to want to see him so soon. He stared at the text message so long he convinced himself it wasn’t real. The buzzing of his phone snapped him back to reality. 

“I can see that you read my text, surprised you haven’t come by to say hi yet.” He’d forgotten he had his read-receipts on. Quickly, he messaged her back. “Sorry, just wasn’t expecting you to message me. I’ll be by soon.” She only sent a thumbs up back, and he headed to her floor, not wanting to keep her waiting too long.

“Hey, you.” Meredith said as soon as Hayes knocked on her door and entered her room. He chuckled a bit and sat down, what was he supposed to say to her? “Sorry for not coming by earlier, I wanted to give you time with your family. I’ve had to deal with my own family issues too, so…” His voiced trailed off. It’d been so long since he’d talked to her, it felt like he’d forgotten how to have a conversation. “What happened?” Meredith asked, concerned. 

“Ah, Abby’s sister is in the hospital. Kidney stone. Ureter fell out when taking it out. Catherine Avery and Wilson had to do an auto-transplant to fix her and save her kidney. Kind of felt like my world was falling apart, not going to lie.” Meredith frowned at him. “I’m not going to lie, I’m kind of jealous of Wilson right now. I miss surgery. I miss auto-transplants.” Her voice trailed off, and Hayes regretted sharing about the surgery, knowing how long she’d been away from it. “But how is she doing?” Meredith asked quietly, worried it wasn’t going to be an easy recovery. “Good. Stubborn as ever. Pain in my ass, but work is a good distraction. Just glad she’s okay.” He sighed, and Meredith nodded, instinctively holding out her hand for him to grab in comfort.

He looked at her for a second, wondering if he should. But he did, and he was glad he did. She squeezed his hand, knowing exactly what he was going through. “You know, a few years ago, Amelia had a brain tumour. Koracick had to remove it. It was a 10cm Grade 1 meningioma. One of the scariest things I went through after Derek died. Didn’t want to tell the kids they’d lost their aunt too.” Hayes could only nod, glad he had someone who could actually empathize with him and understood his worry.

“I’d love to meet her someday.” Meredith spoke up again after sitting in silence with Hayes for a few seconds. Hayes looked at her and laughed to himself. “What’s so funny?”

“She’s been asking to meet you as well.” 

-

Hayes barged into Irene’s room, tablet in hand and Meredith on screen. “What the hell, ‘Mac?” She asked, glaring at him. “I have someone on the tablet who wants to talk to you.” Irene rolled her eyes but sat upright, expecting it to be one of her nephews. She was surprised when a woman with a mask on appeared in front of her eyes. Irene looked at the name at the bottom of the screen, only to look up at Hayes in shock when she saw Meredith Grey, Chief of General Surgery. Hayes winked at his sister-in-law and left the room, knowing Irene was about to tell Meredith that he talked about her around his kids constantly and other embarrassing things he didn’t want to be present for.

“So, you’re the infamous general surgeon my nephews kept hearing about.” Irene said, shocked that her brother-in-law had caved that easily. “Oh, did they now? Interesting. But yes, I guess that’s me. And you must be Irene. Hayes has told me lots about you.” Meredith said, grateful her mask was hiding her smirk. “Mac tells me you were on a breathing tube for a while. Mind if I ask what happened?” Irene pressed, wanting to know everything about Meredith, and what the hell had happened to make her need the vent. She didn’t want Hayes to get too attached to someone else who was terminally ill. Meredith laughed at the nickname Irene kept using for Hayes. “I got COVID.” She said, and Irene frowned. “I’m glad to see you’re starting to get better now. Don’t know how ‘Mac would’ve handled losing someone else he cares about.” Meredith didn’t show it on her face, but she was shocked by all the things Irene was telling her. 

“Where did that nickname come from, by the way?” Meredith asked, genuinely curious. “That’s a long story.” Irene responded, and Meredith could only nod. The two women talked about their lives, and Irene immediately understood why her brother had fallen for Meredith the moment she mentioned she was a widow as well. They talked about everything from Amelia, to Meredith’s kids, to Austin and Liam, and then even Abby and Derek. 

Just before they signed off, Irene said the one thing she’d been wanting to say to Meredith since she learned about her existence from her nephews. “Thank you, by the way.” Meredith tilted her head, confused. “For what?” She asked with a slight laugh. “For making him smile again. The kids say he hasn’t smiled like he does when he talks about you in a really long time. And I gotta say, I get it now that I’ve seen it for myself. I haven’t seen that smile on his face since before my sister died. So, thank you.” Meredith smiled sincerely at Irene, placing her hand on her chest.

“That means a lot, he makes me smile too.”

[druigsfavwitch]

Russian Lullaby- Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader

Warning: kidnapping, angst, sad! Natasha, mom! Natasha, fluff, Stockholm Syndrome 

Summary: When you were 3, you were kidnapped and raised to believe that your kidnapper was your mother but you find out the truth when you were 16 and find out who your real mother is but you just can't forget about your past that easily

Word Count- 2493

(this is a request from my Wattpad)

~~~~~~

Natasha remembers the exact day she gave birth. It was a grueling 12 hours of labor but it was all worth it when she heard your cries. They cut the cord and gave you to her. She cried happy tears. "Hello, моя любовь. I'm your mom. I promise to protect you as long forever. It's me and you, моя любовь навсегда." She hugged you closer and kissed your head. You grabbed her hand with your little finger and smiled. She looked down at you with pure adoration. 

As you grew up, your mom taught you Russian as your second language. You knew the meanings of simple words like "my love" and "bed".

You lived in the compound along with the other avengers. They really didn't mind because you almost never cried at night at all. You would just sit up and play with your stuffed animals until either Jarvis alerted your mother you were awake or she came in to check on you. Sometimes, Tony would stop in and peak his head into your room to see if you were awake. One time, you were just staring at him sea green eyes. He smiled and walked over to your crib. "What's up, little assassin?" He held his hand out and you gave him a high five. He smiled and picked you up. "Let's go annoy Bruce since he decided not to let me work on my projects." He walked with you in his arms to Bruce's lab. 

Bruce turned around when he heard footsteps. "Tony, if you have come to bother me about not helping you with your project again, please leave me alone." He turned around and saw you in Tony's arms with your fist in your mouth. He smiled and put down the syringe he had in his hand. He walked over and carefully took your hand out of your mouth. You smiled at him and waved. "Hey, y/n? Why are you up?" You just stared at him and shrugged. Tony and Bruce then kept you down in the lab until your mom got up. She walked to your room and saw a note pinned on your crib. She was internally freaking out until she read it. "Trip down to the lab to go to bed- Stark :)." She rolled her eyes and walked down to the lab. She approached around the corner and saw you in Tony's arms. She smiled a little. You turned around and saw her and smiled so big, you could see the few teeth you had. "Mama!" Tony and Bruce turned around to see Natasha standing in the door, smiling at you. Tony looked like he was going to crap his pants. Natasha walked over with her hands out and took you into her arms. "Hello, моя любовь. Did you have fun with uncle tony and Bruce?" You smiled and shook your head yes. She smiled and kissed your cheek, causing you to start a chorus of laughter. Natasha remembers those days and oh, how she missed them.

~~~~~~

All the happiness changed when Natasha put you down for a nap one afternoon. She sung you a song called "Russian Lullaby." She walked with you, half sleeping into your room. She gently placed you in your crib and started humming. 

"Every night you'll hear her croon

A Russian lullaby

Just a little plaintive tune

When baby starts to cry

Rock-a-bye my baby

Somewhere there may be

A land that's free for you and me

And a Russian lullaby"

She tucked you in and kissed your head. She watched as you closed your eyes and fell asleep. She smiled and quietly shut the door. But, that nap was different than all the others. A women had been watching you and Natasha for weeks. Her name was Ella. She saw Natasha when she arrived at shield one day. Ella worked there and overheard Natasha talking to fury about you and how she was blessed to have you. Ella got jealous because she was infertile. She's always wanted kids and she could never have any of her own. She thought Natasha was too but by a miracle, she had a baby. A gorgeous, green eyed one. Ella had a plot to get what she finally wanted. She would sneak into the compound and take you.

Ella set her plan in motion the moment she temporarily disabled Jarvis. She found the vents and climbed through them. She knew she had to be quick. Jarvis could only be temporary disabled for 7 minutes. She followed the vent until it was right about your room. She carefully opened the vent and quietly landed. She walked over to your crib and looked down at you. She smiled and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. "Hello, my child." She carefully picked you up and quietly climbed back into the vent, leaving the compound.

When Jarvis came back on, he alerted everyone that someone had disabled him. Everyone got antsy. How could someone break into the compound without being spotted. Natasha had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She made a beeline for your room, with everyone following behind her. When she reached, she pushed your door open and her heart dropped. In your crib, where she had left you no more than 10 minutes ago, was nothing. It was completely empty. She rushed over to your crib and started flipping blankets over. She checked every inch of that room and then the realization kicked in. You were kidnapped. Her knees buckled and she almost completely fell if Steve was not behind her. She sobbed and hit her hand on the floor. 

~~~~~~

Meanwhile, when you woke up, you were in a different crib. You looked around and realized that your room was completely different. You got scared and started to cry. Ella ran in and picked you up. "Aw, it's ok. Mama's here." You cried even more and screamed. "Mama!"

~~~~~~

Eventually, you got used to Ella and started to call her mom.

Time passed and everything seemed to be good for Ella. Natasha, however, was so upset. As soon as you were missing, she called Fury and he had a huge search. Then, all the avengers searched individually, but they could never find you. It's like you just vanished off the face of the earth and that's what hurt Natasha the most.

~~~~~~

You quickly grew up. By this time, you were nearing your 16th birthday. It was a huge deal. You hoped this would be the day that your mom lets you get a phone or social media or something. Maybe even enroll you in real school. 

That night, you had a dream that you'd been having for as long as you could remember. You would be laying in bed and hear humming. Then, a red haired lady would come in. She would be singing a song that sounded so familiar. 

"Every night you'll hear her croon

A Russian lullaby

Just a little plaintive tune

When baby starts to cry

Rock-a-bye my baby

Somewhere there may be

A land that's free for you and me

And a Russian lullaby"

She would brush the hair out of your face, kiss your forehead and say "Goodnight, моя любовь." Then that would be the end of the dream. You never told your mom about the dream because it just seemed so weird.

~~~~~~

On your birthday, your mom went out to get you a cake. You took this chance to explore. You always loved yo explore. You were looking in her closet to see if she had hidden any presents. You pulled something and a box fell on the floor, the top coming off. 

In the box was pictures of you being held in this red haired woman's arms. You couldn't see her face in that picture so you looked into the book for more. You saw another and almost screamed. It was the same lady from your dreams. Now that you had a clear look at her face, she looked so much like you. You continued looking in the box and saw a file folder. It had the same logo your mom used to have at her old job before she got transferred. You opened the file and started reading it. "Natasha Romanoff. Spy, avenger. Children- one." You saw your name. "Wait..." you flipped the page and saw a baby picture of you." Your mouth dropped open. "That lady in my dreams is my mother? But then who's the lady here?" You decided to find her and find out yourself. You saw the address as Stark towers. You packed a bag, grabbed a map and a few dollars. You walked out the door and waited for the bus. When it came, you got on. 

~~~~~~

It didn't take very long for you to reach Stark towers. There was a man leaving the building. He looked fancy. He had on glasses and a fancy suit. He must know who this Natasha is. You walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder. "Um, hello. Do you know where Natasha Romanoff is? I need to talk to her?l he turned around and his jaw almost dropped. He just stared at you, in shock. He then snapped back into reality. "Yes. Yes, I know her. Um, follow me." He walked towards the building again and held the door for you. When he walked in, a voice greeted him. "Welcome back, mister Stark. I thought you had a meeting." He waved them off. "I have a more important matter, Jarvis. Tell Natasha I have to talk to her. It's important." The voice responded. "Right way, Mister Stark." Tony sat you down on the couch. "Can I get you anything kid? Water, apple juice, milk?" You shook your head. "No thank you." You gave him a shy smile. Just then, you heard the elevator ding from behind you. "What do you want, Tony?" You turned around to see that lady from your dreams. She looked up from her tablet and looked at you dead in the eye. She dropped the tablet in shock and quick ran over to the seat next to you. "Y/n?" You smiled. "Hi." She started to cry. Tony smiled and slipped out to tell everyone else. "Where have you been? Are you ok? Are you hurt?" You shook your head. "No, I'm fine. I just wanted to ask you a question." She shook her head. "Of course. Ask away." You pulled out the picture of you in her file. "Are you...my mom?" She looked at the file and back at you. "Yes. Do you...not remember me?" She seemed to look sad. You felt bad. "No. Well, I mean, I see dreams with you in them. And you're singing this song." Her face perked up. "Well. It's true. I'm your mother. You were kidnapped 13 years ago." You're eyes went wide. You were kidnapped. The lady that raised you isn't your real mother. She stripped your real mother of her kid. You audibly gasped. "I know it's a lot to take in. We can take it slow." You smiled at her. "Thank you. So, can I stay here?" Natasha smiled. "Yes. I'd like that very much."

~~~~~~

Over the next few days, you got to know everyone at the compound. You had gotten word from Natasha that they had arrested your mother and put in a shield facility prison. You felt sorrow deep down for her. I mean, you thought she was your mother your whole life. 

You were trying to sleep one night but you just couldn't. Your brain was on overload trying to process everything. You started to cry. Then, there was a knock on the door. Natasha poked her head through and gave you a shy smile. She saw your tears and carefully walked over to your bed. "What's wrong?" You sniffled. "I know you're my mother but she raised me. I went this whole time thinking she was my mother. I don't know if I coude ever forget her." Natasha tried to give you a hug but you pushed her away. Her face turned sad as she gave you a sad smile and walked towards the door. "Goodnight." 

~~~~~~

You had started to go on missions a few months into moving in with the tower. 

Your latest mission was was to go and retrieve a file from an abandoned hydra building. Steve and Natasha were tasked to go with you. You guys took the quinjet and arrived after a short drive. 

You could tell Natasha was keeping her distance but also keeping an eye on you. After you pushed her away, she didn't seem to push you anymore.

The mission didn't go as planned. It wasn't abandoned. It was a trap. You guys were ambushed. Two agents got you. They shot you 3 times; two in the chest and one in the leg. Natasha and Steve then took them down. After taking them down, she ran over to you. "Y/n? Can you hear me? Keep your eyes open." You tried to hard but your vision just went black 

~~~~~~

When you woke up, you saw Natasha sleeping in the chair next to you. You grunted as you tried to find a comfortable spot. She stirred as she heard your movement. She opened her eyes and sighed. "Oh, thank god. I'm glad you're awake." She leaned over to kiss your forehead but then remembered. She gave you a shy smile and started to stand up. "I'll let you be by yourself for a while." As she was walking to the door, you called out to her in your hoarse  voice. "Can you sing the lullaby?" She turned around to look at you, confused. You gave her a small smile. She walked back over with a smile on her face and sat down next to you, cuddling close. She started humming. 

"Every night you'll hear her croon

A Russian lullaby

Just a little plaintive tune

When baby starts to cry

Rock-a-bye my baby

Somewhere there may be

A land that's free for you and me

And a Russian lullaby"

When she finished, you had cuddled next to her and looked at her lovingly. "I love you, mama." She started to cry happy tears. "I love you too, моя любовь." She then started humming the lullaby again.

A/n: ok, wow. i love this. anyways here's the song i found. i hope you like it:)

Translations- 

моя любовь навсегда- forever my love

моя любовь- my love

Tag List (open) - @emmaloo21 @ssebstann @llmarvelettezll​ 

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Iwaizumi in Bad Day Surprises

OMG LOVE. THIS IS SO BIG-BRAIN, I LOVE THIS. I hope you enjoy this @scrappydaisies​ 😘 

Word count: ~1.7k

BOKUTO 

⭐ It was one of those days where everything that could go wrong, went wrong

⭐ You woke up late, missing breakfast as you ran to work, awkwardly putting on your jacket as you sprinted

⭐ When you got to work, you hadn’t printed your proposal and notes, so you ran late for the meeting because of it

⭐ To top it off, you forgot you had a meeting with your supervisor to discuss a potential raise

⭐ (Yikes)

⭐ Of course, you not only forgot your lunch, you’d forgotten your wallet so you couldn’t even buy food!

⭐ Just a whole-ass series of unfortunate events 😔

⭐ Normally, you’d go bother Akaashi - one of your coworkers’ & the reason you had met Bokuto - but he was out with the flu so you didn’t want to bother him

⭐ You also would have texted Bokuto an SOS, BUT of course, he was out traveling for a match so there was no help there

⭐ So, you found yourself fuming at your desk, asking yourself and all possible deities out there on why you had such bad karma, angrily vent-texting Bokuto

⭐ Though he was preoccupied and not reading/responding to your texts, you felt a bit better getting it out of your system

⭐ One of your other coworkers noticed the predicament that you were in, and ended up buying you food

⭐ As you made your way home, you pull out your phone again to see that Bokuto had left you on read 

⭐ Well okay then

⭐ It’s not like that hurt or anything

⭐ (it 100% did but what else could go wrong, y’know?)

⭐ Bokuto wasn’t supposed to be back for a few days because work

⭐ But that didn’t stop you from opening the door and calling “I’m home!” to an empty house

⭐ Leading to you laughing at yourself...which eventually became hysterical...and soon enough, you were standing in the hallway sobbing

⭐ “Babe?”

⭐ Your brain short-circuits

⭐ “K-kou?!” you sniff

⭐ You were a complete wreck by now. Like, your entire face was hot, the tears would not stop, you were snotty as heck

⭐ Your boyfriend appears in the doorway, his eyes wide at your face before he rushes at you

⭐ “What’s wrong pretty one?” he asks, “is it because of your day?”

⭐ (ngl imagining Bokuto calling you ‘pretty one’ made my heart skip a beat)

⭐ “Kou!” you sob, burying your face into his chest. “Today was honestly the worst day of my life”

⭐ He just rubs your back soothingly, murmuring soft declarations of love and comfort

⭐ You pull back, wiping your nose on your sleeve 

⭐ “Wait, what are you doing here?”

⭐ “Oh right! C’mere”

⭐ Bokuto takes your hand gently, leading you towards the living room

⭐ He had taken the time to construct a massive blanket fort there, golden fairy lights everywhere. The TV was already on with your favorite movie queued, and bags of your favorite takeout were there

⭐ Bokuto scratched at the back of his neck. “I knew you were having a really rough day, and I got back early so I figured you’d like this surprise”

⭐ Of course, you start crying again and Bokuto’s freaking out like OML WHAT DO I EVEN DO

⭐ He thought he broke you, the poor bby

⭐ You’re just shaking your head, crying and you’re just like “I just love you so much, why the heck are you so thoughtful”

⭐ He panics and is like, “why don’t we get you outta this and we can start watching some movies, yeah?’

⭐ And you’re like nodding (you’re still crying lmao) as you drag your feet to the bathroom to freshen up, change, and rejoin your mans in the living room

⭐ “You’re literally the best, you know that?” you sniffle as you re-enter

⭐ Bokuto flashes you a grin, opening his arms as he waits for you to crawl into them

⭐ “I’m so lucky to have you” you mutter, burying your face once more

⭐ “Oh baby, I think I’m lucky to have you” he says as he chuckles, rubbing your back and peppering kisses onto your face

⭐ But in general, Bokuto will randomly surprise you with food, snacks, spontaneous things whenever you’re having a bad day because spontaneity is fun as heck! 

TSUKISHIMA

⭐ You and Tsukki met when you guys were in the same class

⭐ Your teacher had separated him from Yams because they kept talking (SMACK)

⭐ Little did he know that by moving Tsukishima to sit behind you, you’d end up dating!

⭐ It started when you were jamming out to music and straight vibing

⭐ He was kinda intrigued, the boy thought you were cute but he didn’t want to vocalise it because he’s such a kuudere istg

⭐ It was Yams who started talking to you, which encouraged Tsukki to do so as well!

⭐ SUCCESS

⭐ Anyways, y’all start dating and all that jazz

⭐ One day, you come into school lookin like a wreck. A complete mess

⭐ You had pulled an all-nighter in order to finish a paper you were really struggling with

⭐ Like, you had been working on it all. week. and you STILL needed that extra 8 hours to work on it

⭐ And as you were leaving the house this morning, your parents were yelling at you for grades or something, so in general you were in a bad mood

⭐ To top it all off, your headphones had decided to die while you were walking to class, so you didn’t even have the comfort of music to help you

⭐ You were ranting the entirety of lunch, with Yams interjecting with some words of comfort as Tsukishima just silently listened and provided you soft touches to let you know that he was there

⭐ He really wasn’t the type to talk much, especially in public. BUT he was definitely very expressive behind closed doors

⭐ So, once school ends, you head home and just collapse onto your bed - dead to the world

⭐ You woke up because your phone started ringing

⭐ In your haste to fall asleep, it somehow ended up stuck to your face LOL

⭐ You pick it up, groggy as heck

⭐ “Hullo?”

⭐ “Can you open the door?”

⭐ “Kei?!” 

⭐ You stand up suddenly, falling onto the floor as the sudden blood-rush made you lighte-headed

⭐ “Did you just fall?” he asked, snickering slightly

⭐ “Shut up” you scowl as you slowly get your bearings and make your way to the door, hanging up in the process

⭐ “What are you doing here?” you ask, rubbing your eye with your knuckles as you stare up at your boyfriend

⭐ “Am I not allowed to visit you?” he quipped back, a pink flush on his cheeks. “I have something for you”

⭐ You step back, letting him into the house. “You didn’t have to, I’m sure you’re tired after practice”

⭐ “Shut up, I wanted to”

⭐ You guys make your way to your room

⭐ Tsukishima sits at your desk, unzipping his volleyball bag and pulling out a box. “Here.” he says, passing it to you

⭐ Your eyes widen. “Kei! You really didn’t have to”

⭐ He had gotten you some fancy, noise-cancelling headphones 

⭐ (Personally, they’d be AirPods but y’know, it’s whatever y’all prefer!)

⭐ “I know you were having a rough day, and music always makes it better for you so just take it,” he scowled, hiding the red roses on his cheeks

⭐ You grin, putting it down gently before you throw yourself onto him. “Thank you, thank you so much”

⭐ “You’re welcome.” He coughs awkwardly

⭐ Pulling back, you eye his face as he fiddles with his hands.

⭐ “Do you...maybe wanna cuddle or something?” you smirk

⭐ “Shut up..maybe”

⭐ “C’mon then”

⭐ Anyways, if it wasn’t obvious, Tsukki is the type that will hold you and listen to you rant 

IWAIZUMI

⭐ Ugh, college-life woes

⭐ You and Iwa lived together in an apartment. Y’all have been dating for a cool min now

⭐ But the problem of adult life!!

⭐ Y’all just don’t have time for one another

⭐ Or, not as much as you’d like

⭐ Iwa’s busy with his classes and internship

⭐ (Not to mention working out because c’mon this man never stops the grind)

⭐ Like this man is working HARD for his future!!!

⭐ You’re busy finishing up your own final projects and working too

⭐ Y’all basically only see each other for a few minutes every night when you’re laying in bed, updating each other about your day’s before you KO

⭐ SO, when you come home after a really stressful week of late-nights, little sleep, one-meal a day type of situation, you were pleasantly surprised to find your boo at home

⭐ Not to mention, there were candles out, a bottle of wine on the table, and plates of your favorite meal

⭐ HOME-COOKED BECAUSE THIS MAN IS THE PERFECT PACKAGE OK

⭐ “What is this?”

⭐ He looks up, grinning. “Well, I know that someone hasn’t been able to take care of themselves this week, so I decided to take the night off and spend time with them”

⭐ Iwaizumi comes around you, guiding you to the table by the small of your back

⭐ Pulling out the chair, letting you sit before he pushes it in

⭐ “You’re spoiling me Haji” you muse as he pours you a glass of wine

⭐ “Well if you won’t do it, then I will” he shrugs. “Cheers baby” he lifts his own glass, waiting for you to tap yours against his

⭐ If you thought that was the surprise, YOU WERE MISTAKEN

⭐ BECAUSE THERE WAS MOREEE

⭐ He decided to go ALL-OUT with the romance

⭐ After you guys finish dinner, he leads you up to the bathroom where there were unlit candles, and a BATH BOMB

⭐ TBH, I’m imagining LUSH’s Sex Bomb bath-bomb, but it’s whatever you prefer!

⭐ Just know that he added extra petals into the bath just for you

⭐ (you always complain that there weren’t enough lmao)

⭐ He draws the bath and lights the candles as you strip and get ready to shower

⭐ This man is out here washing your hair, soaping you up

⭐ All that wholesome goodness 💘

⭐ He even carries you into the bath!!

⭐ After you’re situated, he brings you the wine glasses and a tablet so y’all can watch a movie or catch up to whatever anime y’all are watching together as he slips into the bath behind you

⭐ All in all, he goes ALL OUT when it comes to spoiling you (he’s a romantic at heart) and honestly, you just need to cuff this man A.S.A.P. 

general taglist: @scrappydaisies​ @newfriendjen​  @kyomihann

Please contact me if you would like to be a part of my general taglist! 💞 Check out this link for information about my taglists.

[lucarioisinthevoid]

both puppets, Scraptrap, Scrap baby, music man, normal chica, mr. hippo, and finally nightmare fredbear. we need a good mix, you know?

(Thanks for the request, I will get jumpscared SO bad and I’m excited to find out by who. Edit: No longer excited, hated it, I needed to pay attention to the audio because of Chica and Marion, hope the chapter will be more fun for it. Full disclosure, in my first run I died ten seconds in due to Nightmarionne, so- I did a second one that escalated just as badly. I’m an idiot, RIP Henry. Warning for a tiny bit of torture at the end, not TOO prolonged, but it’s gonna be there!)

“Alright.” Henry sat there with Helpy in front of a giant spreadsheet, showing little portrays of all the animatronics. “Am I actually supposed to believe that Foxy can throw in all of his parts one by one? And then repair himself to attack me?” “Yep!” The little bear happily confirmed. “… I do not have a choice aside from accepting it, do I?” “Yep!” “And how do I tell that he is here?” “A little figure on your desk! If it’s Bonnie, Bonnie is out, if there is Foxy, Foxy is out!” “Why… is Bonnie in Foxy’s cove?” Helpy shrugged. “Funtime Foxy doesn’t share, so there’s only one cove.” MY GOD. THERE WAS ONLY ONE COVE- Irritated Henry frowned, but he chose to ignore it. “… is there a way for me to tell who is there in general? I feel like having to check every single place on the camera is somewhat difficult and rather unfair.” Before he could say anything, the sheet turned grey, only leaving a selected few of them bright and colorful. His eyes went from one portray of the Marionette to the other. “… why thank you.” Helpy looked at the selection, frowning a little. “Oh… that’s… that’s not good. Uhm, Mr. Miller?” The man had stood up by now, making his way towards the door. “… yes?” “… you should keep the global music box on for tonight. B-but not too loud!” “… thanks you for the advice.” With that he exited the room, the weirdly cold main area greeting him instead. Making his way right towards the office, his mind was buzzing with a few questions to himself. These questions were only amplified when he entered the now more normal seeming office, seeing a rather familiar face. “You.” “Me!” Cheerfully Scrap Baby responded. “Good to see you again, bitchass.” “Excuse me-“ “Apology accepted.” She put her skaters on the table, waiting for Henry to sit down on the other side- which he did, seeing as he hardly had another choice. “Look at you. MISERABLE. I love it!” “… and I enjoy seeing you all scrapped up, made out of trash and metal scraps. However, I have the satisfaction of knowing that you are in this condition because of me. You, however, do not.” Leaning over, the girl let her claw snap. “… you are a brave boy, Miller… let’s see how brave you’ll be when I test how easily I can behead you with my claw!” Henry’s hand was hovering over the button for the electronic shock and she noted, leaning back again. He had the shock, she had her claw… it was only a matter of time to see who could react quicker. A raspy, broken voice sounded from the back. “Wow… look at you two… getting along like a house on fire… I almost don’t want to interrupt… a l m o s t.” Instantly Henry looked down, flipping up the monitor to activate the global music box and reset the ventilation, as well as spotting the animatronic in the duct system and quickly placing a lure. The nightmarish animatronic chuckled. “Oh, Henry… don’t you want to look at me…?” “Seeing as it will take me life… no.” Despite his words, he sneaked a short glance at the creature- it was hard to ignore, so giant and unnatural, his curiosity was begging him to take a look. “… as much as I hate to be rude.” His head felt feverish, there was something wrong. Baby was from his old home. She referred to the things they had gone through together. Not that it was much, but it was there. And then there was the monstrous creature, one he knew could exist, but never came to fruition. This place of course wasn’t tied to time and space, but it seemed this place wasn’t even tied to a single-strained reality. It would also explain why everyone seemed to know him. That threw up a few more questions though, for example, if the souls roaming were actually- He could hear the global music box playing, as well as Chica’s rummaging in the back. When he lowered the camera again, he stared to the side, trying his hardest to not look at the creature, while keeping an eye on Baby and her position. “… you will look. Eventually. I know. You know. Why are you drawing out the inevitable, Henry? I thought you hated that.” “It is not inevitable.” Henry said, his voice full of confidence, but his eyes remained on the corner to the side. If he just kept the routine up, then- … dear god. The power was draining a little bit too quickly for his liking. Was the music box this much of a strain? It wasn’t too bad yet, if he kept things going it might would be tight, but not impossible- Out of nowhere an obnoxious voice sounded. "Uh-oh! How unfortunate! Uh-oh! How unfortunate! I know how much you like to fight, so I'll add a new problem to your night!" Snapping around, Henry spotted a girl- ANOTHER DAMN BALLOON CHILD- stand in a corner, snickering to herself, watching him with glee. “Wh-what!? Who are you?” But as he asked that, the entire screen started to rumble and quake, something was coming from the left, it was coming FAST, it must have been something INCREDIBLE RAGEFUL and in a blind panic he smashed all the doors to that side close. The lights flickered off for a second and the Balloon Girl disappeared- the creature however had been locked out. It felt like it was too close- his brain wasn’t supposed to react that panicked! Had that been Dave? Really? It sounded like- His mind was a mess. The Nightmarionette chuckled, now lounging at the right side of the office. For some reason Baby snickered too. “What is so funny?!” He hissed, quickly flipping through the cameras, checking the vents and airduct cameras, trying desperately to find who this creature had added- Then his eyes lowered down to the energy that was being wasted. Rapidly it decreased. No, no, the global music box couldn’t be draining THIS much power, right?! Was it even possible to keep the global music box playing all night? Twenty-four percent at two AM. No way he could do it. Frustrated he looked to the side, wondering who exactly would come for him once the lights were out. Would the puppet or Chica come into the office? Taking revenge for being deprived of their other form of entertainment? He hadn’t seen the Nightmare Fredbear for the entirety of the night, something that slightly disappointed him. The only nightmarish creature he was allowed to see was the one he wasn’t allowed to look at. Now it was actually inevitable to die- and the machines in front of him enjoyed it, obviously. The way they looked at each other made it clear they were deciding on who would get the honors. With a headache Henry glanced at his deactivated tablet. … if they were unlucky, then the newly arrived stranger would be the one getting to strike first. “Why are you so quiet, Henry? Bear got your tongue?” “… was there anything left to talk about?” Baby snickered. “Maybe you should cut that attitude. Or I’ll cut your tongue out… both would fix it!” “That is not a conversation worth having, at least in my eyes. I am open for a counterpoints, but us talking about it will not aid either of us. Correct?” Ten percent. It was still draining quickly, instantly down to double digits, and it just had turned to three AM. “Any last words?” Baby asked. Henry just tsked, closing all the doors and glancing at her. “Get it over already. Boasting is not a polite thing to do.” She clacked her claw. “You just want to get me shocked before going down.” “If that is what you think.” A few heartbeats now- Then the lights went down. … what a familiar noise indeed… Slowly it went darker and darker, the afterglow of the lamps fading fast. Henry breathed slowly, listening in, trying to guess who was approaching to kill him. From the side, the Nightmarionnette moved closer, putting a heavy claw on his shoulder, leaning down. Its bright white eyes and shining teeth were the only thing still seeing- aside from the stripes, vaguely. Henry stared inside them, without showing fear. “Henry…” “Yes, Charlie?” “… you left the right door locked up until now.” For a moment Henry was frozen, then he slapped his own face. “I am such an idiot.” “Now, now, do not damage the goods… that is my job!” Picking him up carefully, like a little doll, the Nightmarion let one of his claws move over Henry’s stomach- Henry just hanging in the grasp, stubbornly refusing to fight back. “… will I go to actual hell after this?” The machine laughed, it sounded a bit like a circular saw, a far distance away. “Henry! This IS your hell! And… the nightmare is just beginning.” With that he dug his claws inside of his body, right at the chest. It was a horrible crushing feeling, the pressure on his skin, of his lungs growing stronger and stronger until it broke open, blinding white pain, opening up- One claw peeled off the skin, the other aimed right for the heart, pulling it out until separating it with and abrupt RIP- … how was he still conscious, this was far too much pain, far too much damage, how was he- how was he still conscious... Fascinated the machine looked at the heart. “You have one! What a surprise. Now… to the real test.” It took it to his maw, shoving it against his teeth, opening it up, tearing it to pieces, as a long tongue slipped out, catching a few bloody drops, while another few dropped on the ground, joining the pool from where Henry was being held. “… I do like the taste…” With that it reached out again, reaching in- And that was thankfully the last thing he experienced before fading away. He woke back up on the couch, coughing abruptly, feeling close to dry heaving- Stumbling over, he got himself a glass of water. Then he sat down next to the sink, trying to breathe more regularly. … it would get better. He would get better.

[vikingpoteto]

Red Robin under the spotlight

Read on AO3 

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Relationships:  GEN. Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake

Summary: Red Robin and Red hood are basically urban legends, no one is sure they're real. That is, until there is a picture of the two of them grinning at each other on Gotham Gazette's front page.

________________________

Tim Drake is having… a day. 

Stuck in his office for the afternoon, he is praying for nightime to come soon so he can put on his suit and vent his frustration by beating up some unsuspecting criminal. He’d known being a CEO wasn’t particularly fun, but he didn’t expect the board of directors to be babies for so long. 

He skims his proposal for what feels like the hundredth time unsure of how to make it clearer that that is the best course of action for their investments. The fact that he is only 18 should not trump his very solid, data-based arguments. 

So he’s already in a bad mood and praying for a distraction when his office door swings open and Tam Fox storms in.

“Timothy!” she shouts. 

He feels like he's about to learn he should be careful with what he wishes.

“Hey, Tam, I missed you too?” He tries.

Behind her, his secretary makes a helpless gesture as if trying to communicate she tried to stop Tam. Tim gives the woman a tired smile and makes a dismissive gesture.

Ignoring that, Tam slams the door closed and repeats for emphasis: “Timothy.” She pushes an iPad into Tim’s chest. “What is the meaning of this?”

Raising an eyebrow, he takes the iPad and looks at the screen, noticing he’s staring at a Gotham Gazette article and… Tim’s heart stops.

The headline screaming at his face says RED DYNAMIC DUO? by Vicki Vale and beneath it…

“Oh god,” Tim whimpers.

Beneath the headline there’s a picture of him and the Red Hood. 

Or, well, Red Robin and Red Hood. They’re sitting on the fire escape of one of the abandoned buildings in Jason’s territory and both are seemingly at ease. Too at ease. There are two BatBurger bags at their side and their fingers are intertwined. Red Robin is staring at their joined hands with a wide smile. Fucking hell. Tim always makes a point of never smiling in front of anyone when he’s in his suit, he has a reputation to protect. He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that Red Hood isn’t wearing his helmet, because it emans his open grin is visible as well - and thank god  Jason has the habit of wearing a domino under his helmet. 

Who the hell took that picture? How the hell did they go unnoticed by both Tim and Jason?

He then starts reading the article, every word feeling like a punch to the gut. 

Gotham City has seen its share of vigilantes over the years and, unlike public figures such as Superman, they prefer to keep to themselves, making many people wonder whether they’re even human. As a shot captured by an amateur photographer that chose to remain anonymous, we find out at least a pair of the many Gotham “heroes” are closer to us than we thought. 

The vigilante known as Red Robin Gotham's patheon of heroes a couple of months ago and little is known about him. He’s been seen working with the likes of Batman, Robin and even Batgirl, making us all think he’s one of the good guys. It seems like Red Robin’s circle of friendships doesn’t include only Justice League members, though.

The Red Hood, the man so tenderly smiling at Red Robin, is a notorious mob boss whose territory's size, GCPD especulates, rivals Black Mask’s. Red Hood wanders between both criminal activities and a violent brand of justice and, while he's been seen working side-by-side with heroes like Nightwing, a hero that since has only been seen in Bludhaven, no one can claim to have seen the Red Hood so comfortable around one of the bats of Gotham

The two young men were pictured in a tender moment. Could this mean that Red Robin is straying towards villany? Is the Red Hood is considering changing his ways? Or, perhaps, are we facing a pair of starcrossed lovers, separated by different set of morals, but still unable to stay away from one another? 

Tim makes an inhumane sound. The words  star crossed lovers  jump from the screen, burning his eyes and making him wish he was going over a dumb business proposal still.

“Well?” Tam demands. “What is that, Tim?”

“I don’t know, Tam,” he answers, his voice weak. “What on earth- How the hell… Oh, god .”

“Why were you hanging out with the Red Hood?”

“Stakeout,” Tim says simply.

“Why were you on a stakeout with the freaking Red Hood?”

At that, Tim recovers enough to feel a bit miffed. That’s the same tone she had last year when Tim was working with assassins and he gets offended on his brother’s behalf. Even if, you know, said brother had also been somewhat related to the assassins in question. In the past.

“Hey, Hood is not as bad as the news make him look. Sure, he’s not exactly clean, but he’s a valuable undercover agent and…”

Tam makes sounds of a woman whose white Valentino bag had liquid lipstick spilled in. “Does that mean you  are  dating the Red Hood?”

“What? NO!”

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. God, what a mess. 

“He’s my brother,” he says. 

Tam looks like she goes through the 7 stages of grief in a very short time and, honestly, Tim feels for her. He likes Tam a lot. She is smart and strong and the poor girl has had to deal with so much since she and Tim became friends.

“Are you telling me… that Dick Grayson…”

“No, Dick’s not the Red Hood.”

She stares at the picture again and then at him. “This isn’t Duke or Damian, Tim.”

“You’re right. It’s a long story. I can’t tell you, though. I trust you but Hood’s identity isn’t my secret to share.” 

Tam closes her eyes and breathes in and out slowly. After all the crap she had to deal as one of Red Robin’s friends, a stranged brother that happened to be a crime lord (an anti-hero, really) wasn’t that far fetched. She didn’t know much about the Drakes because Tim didn’t talked about them, so, for all she knows, Red Hood could be Jack’s or Janet’s bastard child. Although Tim can figure her theories, he doesn’t try to explain anything. Whatever she works out is better than letting her know Red Hood is Bruce Wayne’s son brought back from the dead.

“Fine. You’re not dating a criminal. You’re a criminal’s brother.”

“I mean… if you think about it, I’m a criminal too.” He smiles sheepishly under her glare. “Being a vigilante isn’t exactly something I can put on my resume.” 

Shaking her head, Tam checks the picture again. “What were you even doing? Because it looks like you’re holding hands and finding it hilarious.”

“We… hm. We were thumb wrestling.”

She stares at him, her expression empty of any emotion. Tim cringes.

“Look, not everything is death traps and high risks, alright? Sometimes stakeouts get boring!”

“You were laughing your head off because you were having a thumb war with the Red Hood,” Tam deadpans.

“Hm. Actually the thumb war wasn't that funny, that was him cheating. I was winning so he kept talking shit about Dick’s past to make me laugh and lose focus.”

Tam finally sits down and she looks at ceiling as if she’s considering all the life decisions that lead her to this moment. At this point, Tim knows she’s just being dramatic, because knowing Red Hood cheats at thumb war for certain isn’t more shocking than the time she met Tim. 

“The thumb was isn’t important now, though,” Tim says. “ This  is a huge problem. Hood’s gonna be in hot water if people think he’s  friends  with a hero.”

He refuses to use the word lovers, because ew. Sure they’re not related by blood, but… ew. Tim  sees  him as a brother, damn it.

“Well, I’m afraid there’s not a lot we can do now,” Tam says apologetically. “The article’s been up since this morning. Even if we have them take it down, it’s already out there. #RedDynamicDuo is trending on Twitter.”

Oof. That’s… oof.

Tim intertwines his fingers and glares at the tablet in front of him as if waiting for the puzzle to solve itself. He knows it won’t, so it’s up to him to fix this. His burnt out brain suggests calling Bart and asking him to run back in time and stop that cursed thumb war. His practical brain has half a mind to call Oracle and see how much online evidence she can get rid of. He has to contact Gotham Gazette and threaten them into not putting vigilante’s identities at risk by posting such pictures, although he doesn’t hold high hopes for that course of action. What he needs now is a bigger scandal, although he fails to think of something more dramatic than Red Robin and Red Hood being buddies…

Right as he’s starting to feel a bit forlorn, his phone buzzes on the table. A picture of Dick smiling flashes on the screen and Tim allows himself to perk up for a moment. Dick for sure will be able to help him.

“Dick!” He picks up, full of hope.

Tim is greeted with cackling. Dick’s cackling.

He groans. “Richard.”

“AHAHAHAHA O-oh god, you… aha... b-baby bird, you… HAHAHAHA--”

Tim isn’t paid enough for this. He hangs up.

“Can you help me with this?” He asks.

“Don’t I always?” Tam quirks an eyebrow.

Smiling tiredly, he stands. “I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off. Can you take care of… you know… day job stuff?”

“I guess. Good luck with your… your family thing.”

 THE BIRDNEST

spoiler alert: *insert game of thrones joke here*

In the hood: Go fuck yourself, Stephanie

spoiler alert: not judging u bro he hella cute

WonderWing: steph please

cassandra cain-wayne: ?

send me a Signal: they’re talking about that picture of Hood and Red holding hands cass

yumm: were NOT holding hands

cassandra cain-wayne: I print that picture.

In the hood: W H Y ! ?

cassandra cain-wayne: cute :) 

spoiler alert: she right and she should say it

In the hood: Steph, turn on your location. I just want to talk.

yumm: stephanie I hv pics of u sleep drooling on me from that that 1 patrol dnt test me

spoiler alert: shut up red dynamic duo

 Tim hates the internet.

Barbara is kindly trying her best to muffle the online reaction, but there is only so much she can do without outright deleting people’s tweets. Tim knows for a fact that that would only cause a bigger uproar, so he asks her to settle for burying mentions of them under a fake algorithm. 

He has yet to think of gossip hot enough to top the rumors, but he doesn’t think even his fake engagement to Tam last year received so much attention. A glimpse into Gotham’s elusive heroes’ personal lives was too exciting to let go quickly.

When he walks into his apartment, he wants nothing but to take a hot shower and a nap. He knows he can’t, though. 

As well as he knows he isn’t alone. 

He plays it cool, walking in as though he doesn’t notice the person in the shadows. He drops his keys and phone on the nearest table as he would normally and turns around too abruptly to allow a reaction, his fist connecting to… someone’s palm.

“Nice reflexes, Baby Bird,” Jason says, quirking an eyebrow as though mildly impressed.

Tim groans. “Would it kill you to use the door?”

“It might, better not risk it.”

“It shaves five years of my life span every time I come home and you’re waiting in the shadows. Of all of Bruce’s habits to pick up…”

Jason simply shrugs. “So… what’s up,  honey? ”

“Ew, don’t say that,” Tim groans.

Keeping his nonchalant facade, Jason lets himself fall into Tim’s couch as though he belongs there. Tim heads to his room to change into more humane clothes.

“I’m assuming Dickie shared the news already,” Jason says.

“He couldn’t stop laughing long enough to say anything,” Tim replies from his closet. “Tam was kind enough to show me, though.”

“Tam… is that your ex-fiancée? Hmm… The news sure keep shipping you with everyone, speaking of which.”

Grumbling the whole time, Tim puts on a purple hoodie he might or might not have stolen from Stephanie and that he wears whenever he’s stressed. He wears that hoodie a lot. Heading back to the living room barefoot and feeling slightly more prepared to deal with the situation, he says:

“I’m assuming you aren’t here just to hang out.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Tim blinks once. Twice.  No, it can’t be that… “ Everyone thinks you’re a rat.”

“Bingo.”

And this situation keeps getting better and better. Red Hood is feared enough that he can get away with hanging out with the goody two shoes every now and again and keep his rep. Being caught eating burgers and giggling with a hero was a whole new animal. 

They have to assume Hood’s safe houses were compromised as well. The point of having many hideouts is that you’re never left with nowhere to go, but even Jason wasn’t prepared to have everyone in his territory turn on him. That and they all had been raised and trained to be paranoid. It was too big of a risk to assume he’d be safe in a known place.

“Crap,” Tim mutters. 

“I considered ditching Gotham and spending some time with Roy instead…”

“But that would be as good as a confession. You’d never gain their respect again,” Tim completes for him.

Jason nods. 

The only silver-lining about this situation is that this is Jason. Granted he isn’t too angry to think, Jason is practical and willing to do what’s needed, even if it’s annoying or if it makes him uncomfortable. Tim likes working with him because of that.

“You know where the extra blankets are,” Tim says. 

Because, of course, if Jason can’t be at his own place and he can’t be with Roy and Kory, he’d crash Tim’s place. The manor isn’t really an option for him and Tim doesn’t blame him for that. 

“The plan of action?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure out.”

Jason sighs. “I’m going to punch something in your Red Robin cave.”

“Be my guest.”

 Damage control is necessary, of course, especially for Red Hood’s safety, but there is something bothering Tim more. He opens the news and studies the picture. It’s a damn good shot, almost looks like it was staged. He closes his eyes and tries to remember that night. In order to take that picture, the photographer would have to be in of of the buildings across the street and they’d have to be good enough to go unnoticed not by one, but by two highly trained vigilantes, one of which had his senses enhanced by the Lazarus pit. 

He messages Babs quickly for more info on whoever sent those pictures to the news, but not even Oracle had managed to track them yet. It sounds like the photographer walked into Vicki Vale on the street and handed her the picture, because there was no digital footprint of such interaction.

Without any more ideas, he puts on his suit and heads out, glad that is patrol night. Perhaps punching criminals will give him some clarity.

Tim is nowhere near closing any of his cases and Gotham is unusually quiet because of course the criminals would choose tonight of all nights to be chill. The night Tim needs a crime. That’s why he’s more than a little thankful when a crackling sound in his comm lets him know someone’s trying to send him a message.

“Hey, hot stuff,” a familiar voice calls, “I have an underground gambling den to dismantle tonight, you want in?”

Red Robin smiles. “Is that a date?”

“I don’t know, is it? I don’t want Red Hood coming after me.”

“Batgirl.”

She laughs shamelessly. He hopes Barbara isn’t listening. Although the alternative would be Wendy listening, and he doesn’t know which one would be worse. Steph’s sense of humor isn’t for everyone and while, Tim doesn’t mind their inside jokes and got used to her eternal flirting, he feels as though those should remain between the two of them only.

“I’m serious, though,” Steph continues. “I don’t think backup is needed per se, but I miss fighting criminals with you. Plus I figured you could use a punching bag or two.”

He grins. He just  really  loves Steph. 

“Send me the details. I’ll meet you there.”

Turns out it’s a pretty standard burst for them. Gambling den covering a massive drug operation, because this is Gotham. Why wouldn’t they use an illegal thing to cover another more illegal thing? That sounded like a great idea. 

He finds Batgirl waiting for him on top of a building. She simply smiles and points at the shady alley down the street. 

“Gentlemen first?” she offers. 

“It’s your case.”

With a nod, she dives towards the ground and Red Robin follows her closely, frowning in confusion when she doesn’t dropkicks any windows. Instead, she casually strolls towards the back of the alley where a suspicious metal door that could easily go unnoticed if it didn’t scream CRIMINAL ACTIVITY HERE. Batgirl knocks at the door and gestures at Red Robin to stay away.

A slit on the door slides open and a confused crook tries unsuccessfully to see who’s there. With both vigilantes’ out of his line of sight, the poor bastard has no option other than opening the door to check. Batgirl swiftly pulls him into a headlock as soon as he walks into view and Red Robin’s grinning face is the last thing the man sees before the pressured applied makes him pass out.

Red Robin doesn’t figure what Steph’s plan is until she cuffs the unconscious bouncer and stands straight, offering her arm.

“You’re so dramatic.” He rolls his eyes, even as he takes it.

“Shush, you think I’m awesome.”

That he does. Especially when the two of them climb down into the basement turned illegal cassino with their arms locked as if they’re a couple. It’s cartoonishly comic how long it takes everyone to realize Red Robin and Batgirl are standing on the entrance, looking around at the 50 different illegal activities happening at once. 

Not as comic as when Batgirl shouts over the music: “Please, don’t stop on our account!”

The gamblers sober enough to freeze in horror. 

“Before we start, anyone wants to just give themselves in?” Red Robin offers.

That’s when guns start firing and all hell breaks loose. 

 The night ends, as it would, with Batgirl and Red Robin walking home a trio of strippers. The women weren’t to blame that their work environment was less than ideal and they certainly didn’t need to be left tied up waiting for the GCPD like the mobsters Steph and Tim beat up tonight.

Red Robin wanted to just watch them from the top ot the buildings and make sure they got home safe, but Batgirl insisted they walked alongside the women. Their costumes don’t look completely out of place near them and Red Robin doesn’t know what to think of that.

For a second, he thinks he hears someone behind them. Everytime he turns around, he finds nothing but an empty alley, so he shrugs if off as him getting hit tooo many times.

While Batgirl excitedly chats with two of the women about their future employment - one of them is in this line of work just to get by, the other genuinely enjoys sensual dancing as a form of art but wishes she could work somewhere better - when the third of them discreetly detaches herself from the group to walk closer to Red Robin.

She still looks tense and guarded, her arms tightly wrapped around herself and Tim wishes he had a jacket to offer her. The way she sideeyes him says she wants to say something, but is too nervous to start. Not wanting to betray his persona, he simply waits, trying to appear as non threatening as possible.

“Thanks a lot for savin’ us, Red Robin,” the woman says finally. “I can’t believe I’m meetin’ ya.”

He gives her a small smile. “I’m just glad you’re safe, ma’am, there’s no need to thank me.”

“I just wanted ta say… I get ya.”

Red Robin tilts his head to the side. “Ma’am?”

“The thing with your man. Must ta’ be hard dating the Red Hood. I know how it is.”

He was… He was getting sympathy from a stripper with bad taste in men.

“There’s nothing gross between Hood and I!” He lets out before he can help himself, his voice a little louder than intended.

The other women startle at his outburst and turn to him, wary. One of them reaches for what is clearly a pocket knife that she thinks is cleverly hidden in her bra.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, ma’am, just… Batgirl, I believe you’ve got things from here. I’m taking off.”

She gives him a concerned look, but ultimately nods. Under Batgirl’s and the three strippers perplexed glares, Red Robin grapples his way out of there.

 Tim wakes up around noon feeling as though he was hit by a truck, as he does when he sleeps longer than three hours a night. He slowly sits up and looks around his messy room, wondering how come he’s feeling so miserable. The smell of food stirs him into some sort of alertness.

Right. He’s not home alone today.

Yawning and scratching his belly, he forces himself to get out of bed. He know that the longer he stays the more likely he is to slip into a coma, his body demanding compensation for years of sleep deprivation. Tim drags his feet towards his kitchen where he finds one of Gotham’s most dangerous vigilantes humming to himself as he makes breakfast. Or Lunch. Brunch. Whatever.

“And here I thought I was the family’s zombie,” Jason says in lieu of good morning.

Tim grumbles something about his brother being too comfortable in Tim’s kitchen, but he doesn’t dare complain. Jason is probably the only person that uses Tim’s stove and one of the perks of having him over is that he does cook. A lot. 

The one disadvantage about having Jason over is…

A knife lodges itself on the counter in front of Tim when he tries to reach for the coffee pot. Tim didn’t even see him throwing it. He glares at his brother.

“Food first. Coffee after,” Jason says. 

“I’m too nauseous to eat, I just woke up.”

Again without breaking eye contact with the pot he’s stirring, Jason blindly reaches for a package of crackers casually left on the counter and hands it to Tim.

Tim makes sure to give him his best rebellious teenager glare before grabbing the stupid crackers and sitting down to eat them. Stupid Jason with his stupid boredom. Tim had forgotten Jason goes into full mom mode when he has nothing else to do and that he’s particularly obnoxious about Tim’s eating habits.

“I consume the necessary calories,” Tim mumbles over his cracker.

“Okay, Damian.”

Tim throws a cracker at him. Jason easily dodges without looking, which is kind of annoying.

After that, the two brothers fall into comfortable silence. Tim knows Jason wants to talk about their plan of action, but he knows Tim is nowhere near awake enough to hold a conversation. Besides, Jason doesn’t like being bothered while he’s cooking anyway.

By the time the food is ready, the crackers worked their magic and Tim no longer feels as though his stomach is ready to puke out its emptiness. He grabs dishes he hadn’t used in quite a while and sets the table for the two of them. The brothers start eating in silence, Tim slowly recovering his sense of self - no wonder he goes for so long without sleeping, he takes too long to reboot when he does - and Jason mindlessly scrolling through his phone. 

Then something on the small screen makes Jason choke on his food. 

Tim quirks an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Hm… Timmy, you may wanna take a look at this.”

“What?” Tim takes Jason’s phone. “Oh, for fuck’s sake !” 

It’s another news article. The picture is fortunately less detailed, just a red and black silhouette against Gotham’s sky that may or may not be Red Robin standing over one of the many gargoyles. The text, however.  

RED ROBIN MAKES HOMOPHOBIC REMARK AND SHOCKS ADMIRER

Gotham’s newest vigilante busted an underground gambling den last night. Despite his heroic deed, his words after the fact were less than commendable. When questioned about his relationship with the Red Hood by one of the women he rescued, the hero allegedly said that there’s “Nothing gross between him and Hood.”

“Personally, I was shocked,” said the woman in question, Krystal Math, 25  years old. “Red Robin became my favorite hero when I heard he also has a dead-beat boyfriend. I was starting to finally see myself in one of those bats, you know? I couldn’t believe when he said being gay is gross. Never meet your heroes, I guess.”

   THE BIRDNEST

WonderWing sent a screenshot.

WonderWing: red robin is cancelled for homophobia, pass it on

Robin: Good. It’s about time we rid ourselves of him.

Cassandra Cain: Little brother does not approve gay rights? :(

yumm: im literally bisexual

spoiler alert: he avoiding the question

in the hood: #redrobinisoverparty

yumm: I hate this fucking family

 Tim hasn’t stopped pacing around the room since he read the most recent article. Those were his exact words by the letter, meaning someone had been listening. He doubts Krystal, bless her heart, was the one going to the news with his “homophobic remark”. 

Having basically given up on getting Tim to calm down, Jason is the one to get the porch door open for Steph. Because apparently she’s been learning from Jason and acquired his hatred for front doors. Steph knows how Tim gets, so she promptly ignores him and gets comfortable on the reading chair to check the article fully.

“This is nuts,” Steph says. “We were being careful. I made sure of it.”

Tim believes her. Batman and Robin are basically public figures at this point, even if they don’t interact with civilians if they can help it. Red Robin and the Signal were heard of and spotted around the city, but not a lot of people really  know  of them. Red Hood was basically a urban legend until recently and Black Bat sill is. Batgirl, however, is known for being a people hero. 

She was, back in Barbara’s time, stopped for a bit with Cass, but Steph embraced the old tradition whole heartedly. She would walk people home late at night to make sure they were safe, wave at little girls in the bus, talk to kidnapping victims until they were under heavy blankets handed by the police. Steph was extroverted and charming and she used that fully as Batgirl like she never could as Spoiler. That being said, she and Barbara always made a point to avoid pictures, security cameras and whatnot. If there was a hero good at hanging with civilians while unnoticed by the media, that hero was Stephanie Brown.

Tim’s phone is buzzing. He ignores it in favor of stomping around some more. 

“Well, something must have slipped your watchful eye,” Jason says, shrugging.

Steph glares at him. “Mine, perhaps, but are you implying someone went unnoticed by Oracle?”

“Well, someone obviously did,” Tim snaps, tossing his phone at the couch in frustration. “What happened after I left, Steph?”

“Nothing,” she says honestly. “I walked the ladies home. Krystal was a bit miffed but she didn’t say anything, so I thought she was just a shipper upset that her OTP wasn’t canon.”

“You think she went to the news after?” Jason suggests.

Steph frowns. “Why would she? She didn’t look like she had media connections exactly.”  

Tim’s phone, that bounced off the couch and fell with a soft thud on the carpet, continues to explode with texts. He sighs and stops to pick it up and finally answer them.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Jason argues. Then turns to Tim: “You should look into her. I’m gonna check other possible sources.”

“Hm-hum, just a second,” Tim mumbles, typing furiously. “Damian is being a nightmare and asking for help on a case.”

“Wack. Are you telling him to solve his own cases instead of using your intell to impress Bruce?”

Tim glares at Jason.

“Really? C’mon, Timmy, we’ve been over this.”

Stephanie gives them a puzzled look. “You’ve been over… Dami being a nightmare?”

“Jason says that whenever someone is mean to me I should reply by attacking them where hurts the most,” Tim explains.

“He knows all of our weaknesses and he has the quickest thinking,” Jason says, frustrated. “The least he should do is stand up for himself with that knowledge!”

"Kinda rich coming from the guy that tried to kill him," Steph says, quirking an eyebrow.

"Steph," Tim scowls. "He didn't know me then and the pit rage--"

"Timmy," Jason cuts him off. 

Tim sighs. "Besides now I could off him in 20 different ways if he tried any of that shit again. There. Happy, Jason?"

"That's my baby brother."

Steph smiles at him. “You know what? You’re onto something, Jaybird.”

Tim interrupts his walk of worry again to smile a bit. Something about Stephanie and Jason agreeing on something is immensely satisfying.

Still, on the matter at hand, Tim says, “If I go off on Damian, Dick’s gonna get mad…”

“Then go off on Dick as well,” Steph promptly suggests.

Jason high-fives her. “Atta girl. Besides if Dick doesn’t want us to tell Damian to fuck off he has to work harder on teaching him not to be a little shit. Everyone here has a tragic backstory here and we all know Damian goes too far sometimes.”

Tim shakes his head again. “Regardless, Damian’s case will have to wait. We’re gonna go with your plan, Jay. And Steph…”

“Wow, no way, José. I’m just here as an eyewitness. I don’t want to get involved with homophobes and end up shipped with Jason or some shit.”

Tim glares at her. “I was going to offer you some of our leftovers, but since you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

While Jason laughs and Steph protests, he proceeds to look for his laptop, hoping this isn’t going to be a dead end. 

 “This is a dead end,” Tim declares.

From what he can find, Krystal wasn’t even paid for her impromptu interview. Apparently Vicki Vale showed up at her place to confirm the veracity of a story that she heard God knows where. 

Dick is in Bludhaven, but he insisted on facetiming them when he realized his brothers were struggling, even if he mostly just made worried faces from Tim’s phone as Tim, Jason and Steph exchanged notes. As a rule of thumb, Tim doesn’t involve his siblings in his cases since he became Red Robin, but this is definitely an all hands on deck situation. Tim isn’t desperate enough to get Bruce involved, but he’s getting there. Especially when Dick says:

“Babs couldn’t find anything in Vicki’s email or phone. She’s double checking all of Vicki's sources, but so far it’s been no good.”

“We could always get Vale and hang her by the ankles on top of some building until she talks,” Jason suggests. "Let's go old school on her."

Everyone ignores Jason. Tim stands for another mug of coffee. Dick lets out a frustrated sigh. Steph keeps watching all of them from the couch, where she’s been lying down and tossing gummy bears into her mouth for the past half-hour. 

When no one acknowledges him, Jason sighs and stands. “Alright, this’ been fun. I’m going to patrol.”

Dick frowns. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“He can’t vanish,” Steph says. “One thing is crashing Tim’s place to make sure he won’t get ambushed in his down time. If Red Hood goes AWOL he might as well admit he’s working with the Batclan.”

Jason nods. “If I don’t do my job, next thing I know Black Mask takes over my stuff.” 

“Can’t have Black Mask taking over his stuff,” Steph agrees.

Dick glances at Tim as though expecting him to disagree with the plan. Tim lets out a defeated sigh. “He’s right. Just… make sure to find a safe place to change into your gear so no one sees you. If there are any safe places, that is…”

Jason rolls his eyes. Tim knows he’s going full Robbie Downer mode, as Jason likes to call it, but he can’t help it. It’s not often that he finds himself without any ideas. He  should  have been able to solve this already. Since nothing comes to mind, he starts imagining unrealistic scenarios in hopes that they’ll give him some insight outside of the box.  AU in which I was never shipped with my brother by some nosey reporter. AU in which I went out Damian instead of Jason that night.

Tim groans in frustration. “Why did it have to be Jason? We could get away with me having a thumb war with literally anyone. If it was Batman out there, this wouldn’t be that much of a problem.”

“Maybe if you hung out with all your brothers and not just Jason there wouldn’t be as many rumors about you and Red Hood,” Dick mumbles.

Tim glares at the phone. 

“Really? You wanna go there? You wanna talk favoritism, Richard? Because you’ve been favoring Damian for-freaking-ever.”

“Drag him!” Jason cheers. 

“Tim,” Dick says, looking genuinely upset, “I love all-”

“Save it,” Steph cuts in. “We all have favorites Dick, there is no use denying it.”

Because Dick’s eyebrows are knitted in confusion, Tim clarifies: “Bruce’s favorite is Cass, yours is Damian, Jason’s is… I don’t know, his guns. Steph is my favorite, unfortunately. Steph’s favorite is Cass, Cass’ favorite is Duke, Duke doesn’t have favorites, he’s the only good person in this family, and Damian’s is also you.”

Steph nods. “You did it! You broke the Bat Family dynamics to its bare essentials!”

“And that is why Tim is my favorite. After my guns,” Jason adds.

“Jason, we do not rate our siblings.”

“That’s why you’re in last place, Dick.”

Ignoring Dick’s enraged noises, Tim sets his mug aside. “I’m going patrolling, even if today isn't my turn. Solo this time. Hopefully Red Hood and Red Robin being separate out there will help the rumors die down a bit.”

No one has a better idea - Tim’s least favorite sentence - so that’s what they do. 

 It’s another infuriatingly quiet night.

Red Robin stops a couple of muggings, scares the crap out of some drug dealers. At some point, he considers contacting Poison Ivy and asking if she has any corrupt CEO she wants help with. He could, you know. It’d stop Ivy from killing someone and on his last run with Harley Quinn she did let slip that Tim was Ivy’s favorite Robin. 

He almost falls mid swing at the memory, thinking he might be onto something, but then he remembers Harley hadn’t particularly recognized Red Robin as the third Robin. She was just ranting about how the new tiny Robin had no sense of humor and Ivy missed the last one. Besides of course Harley Quinn wasn’t feeding Vicki Vale some BatFanfic. Tim’s brain must be really burnt out if that’s the best hot take it can come up with. 

It’s almost 3am and he’s taking a pair of muggers that can’t be much older than Tim to the police. He’s about ready to call if a night when someone shouts:

“Red Robin!” 

He looks on instinct and his stomach drops when he sees Vicki Vale running towards him.  Crap.

“Red Robin, can I get a statement?”

He keeps walking. He’s just one dirty alley away from GCPD, otherwise he’d just tie the stupid muggers to his back and would use his grappling hook to get out of the situation, grapple safety be damned. The muggers gingerly attempt to hide their faces as the reporter runs to them swinging a digital recorder. Vicki acts as though she can’t see them.

“Red Robin, what do you have to say about the rumors of your relationship with the Red Hood?”

The rumors you created?  Red Robin quickens his pace and the muggers trip over themselves. He stares straight ahead, pretending he doesn’t notice the woman basically running in heels to keep up with him. 

“Are you ashamed of it? Is it because he’s a criminal or because he’s a man?”

Red Robin wonders if the muggers would walk the rest of the way and turn themselves in if he asked nicely.

“Don’t bother, lady,” one of the muggers says. “He’s a nasty bigot.”

The other mugger  nods and the two of them are wearing matching pouty expressions. Now Tim just feels bad. He didn’t become a hero for the recognition and he’s not in the business of doing PSAs like Superman, but he doesn’t want the strange socially woke criminal youth of Gotham to think they’re being arrested by a homophobe.

“I have no problem with two men in a relationship, I’m bisexual,” he tells the muggers. “Still, I’m not dating Red Hood. Just because I’m bi it doesn’t mean I’m dating every male vigilante I run into.”

At that, the two crooks look mildly surprised and suddenly they seem to feel a bit better about being arrested. Would you look at that. 

Red Robin delivers them to the police, painfully aware that Vicki Vale is nowhere to be found anymore. He feels like he’s going to pay dearly for being too prideful to let himself be mistaken for a heterosexual person. 

 Lo and behold, Twitter, on that very same morning.

@Gotham_Gazette:

Red Robin hints that he might be bisexual. “No, I’m not dating the Red Hood, just because I’m bi it doesn’t mean I’m dating every male vigilante,” said the hero on the rumors about his relationship.

        @dgraysonman hints??? he literally said he’s bi smh

        @stephssss wow only the male vigilantes? biphobic. let red robin date batgirl too

        @babsgeez be gay do crime, be bi serve justice

        @thomascommaduke no cops at pride, only Red Robin using a bi flag as cape.

“Timmy…” Jason starts.

“Don’t. Just leave me alone to die.”

“That’s fair, have a nice day.”

 At this point, Tim is surprised Bruce hasn’t intervened. As unaware of social media as Bruce can be, he’s always on the look for anything that might compromise their secret identities. Tim pulls two all-nighters in a row doing detective work and still makes no progress on his search for the person that sent Vicki that picture and overheard his conversation with Krystal. He fully expects Batman to jump him on his next patrol and give him a lecture.

When he comments that to Jason, he gets a confused look in response.

“You didn’t get a lecture? Bruce was the one that told me first. I had to hear about being careless for 20 minutes before I got home and could take off my comm.”

Tim frowns in confusion. Bruce had talked to him once or twice after the news got out and he didn’t comment anything on it. 

“That’s Batman’s psychological profiling,” someone suggests. 

Tim almost jumps out of his skin when Steph casually walks into the living room with a bowl of chips. 

“What are you doing here? And are those my clothes?”

Steph shrugs in the sweater that clearly doesn’t belong to her. “Jason and I are doing movie night.”

“Movie night,” Jason mocks. “She’s been here for the past two days. Did you seriously not notice, Tim?”

Tim’s jaw drops. 

Steph sighs and her expression turns guilty. “Fine. My mom is out of town for the week and Jason is a better cook than I am. Is it a crime to bum off your ex-boyfriend and his bizarrely talented in the kitchen brother?”

Before Tim can say anything, Jason interrupts: “What were you saying about Batman, Steph?”

She heads to the couch and starts looking for the remote, her feet propped on the coffee table. “B knows Jay will just shrug it off and deal with the consequences, hence the need of a lecture. If he annoys Jason, he’ll stop and reflect on it, even if out of rage. He knows Tim’s already overthinking and working his butt off to fix it, so he doesn’t want to add any pressure.”

Both Jason and Tim stand in dumbfounded silence.  Since when does Steph know Bruce so well?

She raises her gaze when the quietness stretches and quirks an eyebrow at them. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Hm. No. That’s pretty much what we’ve been doing,” Jason admits, if a big begrudgingly. “That’s annoying though.”

Steph simply makes a dismissive gesture and pats the sit beside her. “Tim, you need a break. Wanna join us?”

Tim hesitates. On one hand, the fact that Bruce trusts him that much is a tad touching… and knowing it makes him feel he has to solve this as soon as possible. On another… it’s kind of annoying that Bruce knows him so well and yet doesn’t think about offering any assistance. Tim is not stubborn enough to refuse a helping hand when he’s on a pinch.

“You’re not going to solve anything if you’re hallucinating from sleep deprivation, Timbers,” Jason points. “Besides we’re watching Avatar.”

“Fine,” Tim says.

If for nothing else, just to prove to Bruce that he’s  not an overworker and he can slack off in the absence of a parental figure.

Tim falls asleep in the middle of the second episode. Steph and Jason vow to take him to bed once they’re sure he’s completely out, but they only last until the end of the first season. The three sleep soundly on the couch for good eight hours and regret dearly when they wake up with necks too sore to fight crime for at least a day.

 Consequences. They always come.

Almost a week goes by in which the rumors are but an annoyance to Jason and a source of stress to Tim - but almost anything can stress Tim if he tries hard enough, so that’s not saying anything. Jason is still staying at Tim’s, but he’s considering going back to his own place when they go for three days with no new article and nothing unusual has happened. 

Until it does. 

It’ a rainy night Tim is going over reports for the next WE meeting when he hears a noise coming from the balcony. His stomach gives a familiar twist when he recognizes Batgirl hunched over the weight of one Red Hood. 

He rushes to her aid, already feeling nauseous. There’s no blood in sight but whatever happened must be serious if Jason is willing to let Batgirl give him a piggyback ride. Tim lets them drip water all over the floor and, in his panic, has half a mind to appreciate that Batgirl’s boots have enough traction that she doesn’t slip.

“What on Earth…”

“The most ridiculous thing,” Steph bables as she and Tim drag a very dizzy Jason to the couch. She then starts ranting so fast Bart Allen would be proud. “He was doing his thing as usual, but some of his people turned on him and there was an ambush and so many flipping people against one poor Hood and good god that guy shot his helmet at point-blank which,  damn , that was so stupid, of course the freaking helmet is bullet proof, it just ricocheted and…”

“Steph, calm down,” Tim interrupts. “Jason, can you report?”

When he gingerly attempts to take off his helmet, Steph takes over and undoes the safety measures before carefully removing it. There is a dent on the back part where he had been presumably shot. 

“Hm,” Jason grunts, squinting even behind his domino mask. “Ambush. Shot. Concussion. Very concussion. Ankle hurts? Prolly not broken, tho. Also stabbed?”

Tim nods. “Steph, get the medical supplies. Where’s the stab wound, Jay?”

Jason points to his thigh and there is an improvised bandage keeping him from losing too much blood. Considering how well done it is, Tim figures it’s Steph’s work. He nods and starts checking his brother’s vitals and making sure there aren’t other serious wounds.

When she comes back with the supplies Tim needs, Steph has her cowl down and a somber expression. She turns off the lights for Jason’s sake, the only source of light left on being the lamp near where Tim is already ripping off a piece of Jason’s pants to have better access to his wound. Steph sits by Jason’s side and grabs his hand, much to Tim’s surprise. He’s too busy taking care of the stab wound to ask, but he doesn’t have to. Steph breaks the silence:

“I’m so sorry, Jason.”

Jason gives her a confused look. “You saved my ass?”

“Yes, but…” Steph sighs and turns to Tim. “Babs is with the Birds of Prey tonight, so I was on my own. I was messing around with my comm frequency when I accidentally got into Jason’s. I heard the mess and it sounded like he was in trouble so I panicked. I went to get him and… Well, if there was any doubt that he’s working with the Bats, there isn’t now. It was too obvious that I was protecting him.”

Jason squeezes her hand. “Hm. Pigs.”

“Right. Then the police arrived and instead of leaving right away I stopped to make sure Jason wasn’t bleeding to death. More than a few cops saw me patching him up.”

Tim sighs. Well, shit. 

“It’s not your fault, Steph,” Tim says. “I mean… he literally wears a bat on his chest. People were bound to find out it isn’t just to stick it to Batman.”

“Is too,” Jason mumbles.

Tim ignores him. “The situation isn’t ideal, but we all prefer people knowing Red Hood is associated with the Bats than him being dead.”

“I died before.”

“We know, Jay.”

“Do not recommend.”

“We know, Jay.”

Steph fidgets a bit, still looking guilty, but ultimately nods. Tim is about to start stitching Jason’s wound closed when she says: “There’s more. You, hm, you know Renee Montoya?”

“The one valid pig,” Jason says. “I like her.”

“She was there. She helped a ton keep the other cops away from us before we could escape,” Steph says. “I think she wanted to check on Jason and…”

Tim stops moving. He knows Montoya, worked with her before and she’s a nice woman. That being said, she doesn’t have any connections to Hood. Why would she… Oh. The gay rumors. Damn wlw/mlm solidarity.

“What happened?” Tim asks, already fearing the worst.

“Hmmm, we’ll tell you, but I’m concussed, so you have to promise you won’t be mad.”

“Jason.”

Jason sighs. “Well. She asked about our relationship and… Hm. I might have told her we’re brothers.”

Tim stares at them. Steph is cringing and Jason is too out of it to care. At this point… Tim starts laughing, making the other two - even the concussed one - frown in worry.

“Aw, man,” Tim says between chuckles.  “What the fuck, am I right? I’m too old for this. Who cares? Not me! Fuck it. Fuckety fuck fucky-fuck.”

“I think we broke him,” Steph whispers even as Tim resumes stitching his brother.

They went from not-sure-if-real to a freaking cop knowing about their family in the span of a week. Tomorrow #TimDrakeIsRedRobin could be trending on Twitter and Tim wouldn’t care. Not anymore. Let them come.Literally everyone in his friend circle is a vigilante, a hero or a criminal at this point, he doesn’t even care about endangering anyone.

 It takes actually two days for it to hit the news. He’s alone in his office when Tam texts him a link to Gotham Gazette online. Judging by the lack of other words, Tim figures she’s cutting ties with him again.  

The newest article has no actual pictures, but a sketch of Red Hood standing with his guns pointed at the viewer and Red Robin standing behind him, his face only partially turned. The thing looks more like superhero fanart than an official sketch, but that never stopped Vicki Vale before.

 VIGILANTE FAMILY? by Vicki Vale

Red Robin, one of Gotham’s many masked vigilantes, was cause of intrigue recently. Many  people noticed the hero doing his work around Red Hood’s territory, something not even Batman dares on the regular. Speculation turned into a craze of theories when both red-themed vigilantes were caught sitting on a roof sharing a meal from Batburger and many thought perhaps there was more than your regular vigilante team up. 

Turns out the hero and the mob boss aren’t lovers, against popular belief. When questioned about the nature of their relationship, Red Hood snapped and confirmed one of the less popular theories: the two men are, in fact, related. “Red is right and he should say it,” said Red Hood to a bewildered policewoman. “Of course he’d say it’s [REDACTED] gross, he’s my little brother.” When asked about the conversation overheard by our reporter, the policewoman in question refused to give any more details and requested to remain anonymous.

It’s hard to be sure how such development came to be. The Red Hood has been active in Gotham for years as a mob boss and, more recently, a vigilante and ally to Gotham’s bats. While Red Robin is a newer vigilante, could it be that he was trained by the Red Hood? And how do the two brothers fit with Gotham’s oldest vigilantes? Unlike his older counterpart, Red Robin has been often spotted working side-by-side with the likes of Batgirl and Robin, making some question whether Red Robin is distancing himself from his criminal brother. However, sources spotted Hood being aided by Batgirl more recently. Could it be that his former sidekick is bringing Red Hood closer to the side of justice? More on the Red Twins as the story develops.

 THE BIRDNEST

spoiler alert: RED TWINS

WonderWing: R E D  T W I N S

send me a Signal: ~ * R E D T W I N S * ~

in the hood: uhhhh my bad?

yumm: dis is great

yumm: now im hoods stranged sidekick

yumm: i fucking hate u jason.

in the hood: hey, if you didn't want to be my sidekick you should've picked another color

yumm: screw u u dont own the color red

in the hood: I was born first

yumm: u died first 2

WonderWing: Tim!

spoiler alert: oof 

send me a Signal: wow Tim that was too far

in the hood: I’ve never been prouder to be your brother I taught you so well Timmy

send me a Signal: … I stand corrected. I sometimes forget everyone in this family is clinically insane

 “Hey Tim. There is discourse about you and Jason now.”

Tim lets out a whimper. 

“So apparently some people still ship you two. But those people are being cancelled because shipping incest is problematic.”

“Steph, are you planning on going home? I noticed you took one of my drawers.”

“There’s fanart of you two.”

“I don’t want to see it. That'll scar me for life."

“I’m DMing it to you. By the way there is civilian Red Robin fanart and for some reason they made you blonde.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess it’s more fun to ship people with different hair colors. Should we dye your hair?”

“Why.”

“That way when you finally hook up with Co-”

“Finish that sentence and I kick you out of this apartment for good.”

 With the cat out of the bag, they start doing different damage control. 

Red Hood is now openly working with the Bats, so Steph and Cass dismantle Hood’s former safehouses around Gotham which mostly means getting Jason’s books and bringing them to Tim’s place. Jason suggests the places should be converted into something useful for the neighborhood, such as libraries or a community center of sorts, so Tim starts working on what needs to be done by WE to make that reality. Tim also makes sure Bruce pretends not to know Jason is using a lot of money illegally acquired to getting himself new hideouts.

They dance around the topic a lot and nothing is really said until Steph brings it up. Steph, whose mother returned days ago. Steph, that definitely doesn’t want Jason to leave, because apparently she suddenly has a new favorite ex-Robin. Steph, that is currently eating homemade waffles in Tim’s kitchen, even though Tim is 83% sure she didn’t sleep over last night.

“Why doesn’t Jason just moves in?” she asks.

When neither boy replies immediately, she continues:

“I mean, it’s more practical, isn’t it? Tim’s place is already secure, he has a hero hideout downstairs and you two already work together all the damn time. Tim’s office can be converted into a room for Jason, because, let’s face it, I spend most of my free time here and Tim never uses it. I once saw him take his laptop with him to the bathroom and then return to the kitchen table instead of using the office. We wouldn’t even have to take the shelves, because Jason would fill them.”

They exchange a look. 

“You know, she’s right,” Tim says. He shrugs like it’s no big deal, really.

He isn’t nervous at all while Jason stands there, his expression unreadable. It’s not like he enjoys way too much having his brother around and got way too comfortable with having a roommate and a half (if you count Steph) on the past weeks. Tim doesn’t care, he’s cool like that.

“I mean. I guess having you as a roommate beats living alone,” Jason finally says.

Tim fails to hide his grin. “We can start working in turning the office into a room this weekend.”

Jason smiles back and messes his hair. 

Tim’s first theory is that Steph wants Jason off the couch so she has an official place to sleep, because apparently Jason’s cooking is that good.

His second theory is that she noticed how happy Tim is to finally share a house with family. The Wayne Manor had been home for a while, sure, but despite Alfred’s best efforts the place wasn’t the coziest. It wasn’t the same as sharing an apartment with a brother, bickering about sharing chores and openly discussing their night jobs before shifting the conversation to a video game they want to buy. Sharing actual meals and making sure one another wouldn’t end up dead in a ditch.

Tim decides to stick with his first theory, after all it’s easier for Steph to make Red Twins jokes if Jason and Tim are under the same roof. 

 Even without new gossip, the idea of vigilante brothers is too interesting for the general public to let go. Tim and Jason start acting mostly in the shadows and having no interaction with civilians at all and they’re still the topic of Gotham’s variety shows and online discussions from time to time.

Because they don’t slip again, Bruce has yet to bring up the subject with Tim, but the mystery remains. Who listened to all those conversations and how? Tim keeps expecting the other shoe to drop, to get a message demanding ransom for their secret identities, something,  anything , but nothing happens. Nothing freaking happens and he’s never been this frustrated.

That is, until, it happens. The ultimate betrayal. 

Dick’s next visit coincides with the time Cass is over for the week. Because Bruce is secretly a sap in the wrongest way, he suggests they all go patrolling together. Such great family time. 

Despite their initial protests, they must all be the same kind of freak, because they all agree. They split up soon to cover more ground, but keep their comms on so it still feels they’re all in a big menacing group. 

Red Robin is somewhere near the crime alley when Nightwing announces he noticed some of Two Face’s goons getting into a building. He checks his wrist pad for their locations and notices Nightwing isn’t that far from where he is. The next closest person is Red Hood.

“I’ll take care of it,” Nightwing says over the comms.

“Negative. Two Face himself might be there,” Batman intervenes. “Wait for backup. The Red Twins--” And he stops himself as though realizing what he’s saying.

“Batman!?” Red Robin gasps in a betrayed voice. 

Nightwing is already having a laughter fit over the comms almost drowning the sound of Bruce’s disappointed sigh.

“I’m sorry, Red,” his father says and he even forgets to use Batman’s scary voice. “Nightwing and Batgirl have been saying it so much that-”

“Save it,” Hood groans. “And stop laughing, Jerkwing!”

The worst part is knowing that, even if he solves the mystery, the Red Twins thing is probably going to follow him to his untimely death. 

 Tim all but lost hope when he gets an email from Barbara. “To my favorite Red Twin” says the subject. He groans, but opens the email, because one does not simply ignore a message from Oracle. Then he almost drops his phone. 

Attached there is a grainy picture of a young woman talking to Vicki Vale. The image had certainly been enhanced digitally as it’s probably from a shitty security camera, but you can still see the woman’s face clear as day. She looks like she’s handing Vicki something, her shoulders tense and her expression wary. The body of the message is, most likely, the woman’s personal info. Her name is Lisa Harris. She is 27 years old. She lives somewhat close to Jason’s territory. And, most importantly, Babs added to the end of the message:

The picture is from the night before the Red Twins article ;) Vicki didn’t talk to anyone other than her coworkers and our pal Lisa on that night.

Jason comes out of his room when Tim trips on the coffee table in his hurry to stand. “What’s up?”

Tim hands him the phone. Jason’s eyes grow wide. “I don’t care about subtlety. We’re both going after this chick.”

“Agreed.”

“Should we wait for Steph? She’s gonna be mad that we went when she’s in class.”

“Jason, Steph doesn’t live here.”

“Doesn’t she, though?”

“We’re not waiting for Steph. She’s not involved.”

“Aight, but when she’s bitching I’m gonna say I remembered her and you said no.”

 They leave their bikes behind first for stealth sake, but mostly because the place they’re going isn’t that far from their place. Tim shivers at the thought of someone so dangerous living near him. He wonders what kind of information Lisa might have gathered and for how long she’d been watching them. Is she a new enemy? Perhaps a member of the league?

The shitty building she lives in doesn’t suggest that. It’s just another grimy Gotham apartment complex that didn’t age well. The place they’re looking for doesn’t have a balcony, only a useless fire escape so rusty it would probably crumble under any sign of flames. It’s a perfect hiding spot, because nothing suggests a villain lives there. It’s just a building, home to many underpaid bachelors, nothing too suspicious about it.

Red Robin reminds Hood of that before they nod to each other and split. Jason goes into the building with a ton of confidence, for such a big guy trying to go unnoticed. Tim uses his grapple to reach the right window, not trusting that fire escape for even a second. 

The window is open and he finds himself looking at a place not that different from the one Jason lived before moving in with Tim. Mismatched furniture of the living suggests whoever lives there didn’t have money for fancy decor or that they don’t mind how the place looks. However, something about the place looks… well, lived in. It doesn’t look like a criminal temporary hideout, but rather someone’s place.

As he hesitates, a woman walks in. The woman of the picture, Lisa Harris. Her long blonde hair had been tied in a knot on top of her head and she’s getting ready for bed, if her oversized T-shirt and pajama pants say anything. She’s holding a bowl of cereal.

She reminds him of Steph and that causes him to hesitate for a second. What if this girl is innocent? Their evidence is circumstantial. Maybe she just happened to talk to Vicki Vale at the wrong time.

That hesitation costs him dearly. The woman appears to feel his eyes burning the back of her head. She glances at the window and their gazes meet.

Crap. 

Lisa inhales sharply and drops her cereal bowl. Before he can reassure her of anything, she’s bolting for the door. He pats himself in the back for his backup plan, because just as she opens the door she runs right into Red Hood’s chest. Lisa stumbles backwards, her expression horrified.

“Knock knock?” Hood quips.

She lets out a squeak and guilt makes Tim wince. Once again he opens his mouth to tell her they’re not here to hurt her when she… vanishes. 

She simply disappears right in front of their eyes.

“Shit, she’s a meta,” Hood hisses. 

Red Robin’s thoughts fly a thousand miles per hour, finally making the conexions he stupidly missed for so long. Of  freaking course.  He was so used to dealing with a bunch of idiots in colorful costumes and assassins and whatnot he hadn’t taken in consideration that ninjas aren’t the only exceptional enemies they face. And if his theory is correct. 

“She’s still here,” he says. “If I’m right, she can turn invisible. That’s how she’s been listening to private conversations.”

A soft gasp follows his statement and Hood is moving almost as fast as Red Robin’s insights. An invisible woman is still solid and her clumsy footsteps are still audible, so on the moment that follows Jason seems to embrace air. 

“No!” She cries out, flashing in and out of sight for a few seconds.

“Careful,” Red Robin warns.

Hood is wearing his helmet, but Tim knows him well enough to know his brother is glaring at him as if saying  duh?  

Lisa tries to stomp on Hood’s feet, she squirms and grunts, but he doesn't budge. Apparently invisibility is her only power and she looks terrified.

“It’s okay!” Red Robin hurries to say. “We’re not going to hurt you!”

She turns her frantic gaze to him. Her brown eyes suddenly become watery. 

Shit.

“Hood, let her go,” Red Robin says. 

“Seriously?”

“Yes. You’re not going to try to escape again, are you, Lisa? We just want to ask a few questions.”

He wishes they had waited for Steph.

Lisa hesitates, paralysed, but slowly nods. Her eyes never leave Red Robin once their gazes met, not even to check whether Hood is going to let her go or not.

“Hood,” he calls again. 

Groaning something about being too trusting, Jason lets her go. He is gentle about it, too, making sure to let her feet touch the floor carefully instead of simply dropping her. Regardless, as soon as she’s left to stand on her own legs, her knees give in and she drops on the floor. At that, Tim can tell even Jason is hiding guilt behind his helmet.

He shakes his head to regain focus and crouches in front of the woman. If at this point they just apologize and leave, they’ll have traumatizes this poor woman for nothing.

“Lisa Harris,” he starts. “That’s your name, right?”

She trembles when he says her name and that should have been the first red flag. He blames it on the stressful situation and moves on.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he says. He keeps his expression empty, even if he again can tell Jason is cringing at the understatement. “No one here is going to hurt you. We just want some answers. Is that alright?”

Her hands are balled tightly on her lap as though she’s making a lot of effort not to move them - perhaps to punch them, defend herself? But again she doesn’t look prone to start a fight.

“You’re him,” she whispers, her voice heavy with… something. It almost sounds like affection. “You’re really the Red Robin. In my room.”

That  red flag is harder to ignore. He is about to check for other shock symptoms when Hood calls.

“Hmm… Red? Are you seeing that?”

He follows his brother’s gaze… and his chin drops. On the wall opposite to the door hangs a giant corkboard. On the corkboard, held by black and red tacks there are dozens of Red Robin pictures. Some blurry, some taken from so far that you can barely be sure it’s really Red Robin or not, the infamous picture of the thumb war (demon horns had been disturbingly scribbled on Jason on that one) and… He doesn’t have words. 

“You’re my hero!” Lisa claims.

“Is he? I couldn’t tell,” Hood says.

Red Robin punches his knee, which is all he can reach from where he is, and turns his attention to the woman in front of him.

“Lisa, for how long have you been following me?”

“Since you saved me,” she says. “Well… Hm. You didn’t save me. But you stopped a heist at the Central Bank a couple of months ago and I was there. I could've died without you.”

Aw, crap on a stick.

“Do you… do you know who I am?”

“You’re Red Robin,” she repeats.

“He’s asking about his identity behind the mask.”

The way she glares at Jason doesn’t suggest she had been shaking in fear moments ago. “He’s Red Robin,” she insists. “I don’t need anything else.”

“If you don’t know… how do you have so many…” Hood gestures vaguely at her creepy corkboard.

“I did detective work,” she says and glances at Red Robin as if expecting a pat on the back. “I noticed you always go on patrol on mondays, wednesdays, fridays and saturdays. Then if I wandered around long enough… It was just a matter of hard work and bit of luck, really.”

Damn. Now that Tim thinks about it, the one time he went on patrol spontaneously was also the night Vicki Vale found him by coincidence rather than magically knowing what happened. 

“Fuuuuck,” Hood groans. “I told B patrol schedule was a dumb idea!” Then, in a deep growly voice, “ It’s a matter of efficiency Hood, don’t be paranoid. Who’s paranoid now, Batloser?”

“Not the time, Hood.”

“Right. Proceed.”

Red Robin sighs. “Why did you sell my pictures to Vicki Vale?”

At that, Lisa looks suddenly ashamed. “I.. I’m sorry. I thought… I thought you were  involved  with  him  and I panicked. I thought… I thought seeing what it would do to your reputation would make you see that he’s not good enough for you.”

“Rude.”

“Hood.”

“What? She is.”

“I was trying to learn more about him, you know? I was. When I found out he was your brother, I realized you had no option, right? Family is family. I even told the news again to clean your record.”

So he had a stalker. A stalker concerned about his love life, no less, that’s… great. Just great. Of all the scenarios he considered they’d have to face, this is not one of them. Before he decides what to do, however, Lisa speaks up again. 

“You sound so… nice.”

Tim stares at her in confusion, unsure whether to thank her or not. Regardless, she didn’t sound like she was complimenting him.

“I mean… aren’t I supposed to be?”

“No! I mean… you’re… you’re dark and brooding and serious and you don’t waste time with civilians unless forced…” She frowns and Tim figures she’s thinking about the night with the strippers. “You’re… the night.”

Jason snorts. Tim punches his knee again. “Lisa, I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of Batman, not me.”

Her expression twists in such fury both vigilantes prepare to restrain her, but instead of directing her anger at them, Lisa scoffs.

“Don’t  get me started on Batman! All that crap about being mysterious and working alone? Then he joins the freaking Justice League? Just… Batman, in the middle of a bunch of rainbow wearing clowns. And then… all those freaking kids. Why does he have so many kids?”

“Lady, we ask ourselves that everyday,” Tim admits.

Lisa is wearing the same expression Krystal had when Red Robin denied his relationship with Hood.

“I’m sorry, Lisa, I’m grateful that you admire me, but you can’t keep following me like this.”

Her eyes teary again, Lisa swallows dry. “Clearly, if you’re  sorry  about it.”

They can’t exactly take her to Arkham for taking pictures. Tim feels less bad about the whole thing when the woman stands and starts telling them in a  very loud voice  to get the hell out of her house.

“Fine,” Jason says, heading to the corkboard. “But I’m taking this.”

“Take it,” she shouts. “I don’t need it anymore. You’re  just like Batman!”

And that’s how Red Hood and Red Robin find themselves standing in the middle of a dusty hallway, Hood with a conspiracy board under his arm. 

Well, that happened. 

 In the end, Steph  was  furious about them going to the stalker’s house by themselves, but there was not a lot she could do except doodle on every picture of the stalker board. 

There must be something very wrong with their sense of humor, because their text group becomes a mess of jokes about the stalker Robin being stalked. At that Tim has no problem exercising Jason’s lessons in holding grudges and refuses to help them with any of their cases unless they stop it. The thing is that all of them find the whole thing hilarious.

All of them except Duke.

“Give it a while,” Tim tells him. “You’re the most recent acquisition to the family. In due time your idea of funny will be just as warped as ours.”

“Hm. When was the last time you slept, Timmy?” Duke asks.

“Tuesday.”

“Today is Tuesday.”

“Hahahaha yeah.”

“... Jaaaaasooon! Come over here! Tim is going into The Ring territory! Do something about it!”

Bruce doesn’t find it funny either. He isn’t happy that there’s a deranged meta he didn’t know about, but Tim thinks that was the least surprising part of the whole ordeal. He reckons a lot of metas doesn’t want to be a hero or a villain, they’re just regular people that live regular lives and happened to win in the metagene lottery. 

Or… well. In Lisa’s case, not so regular.

And that’s why upon hearing the story for the first time, Bruce  completely freaks out. He starts considering possibilities from scaring the woman as Batman - “That’s a terrible idea, dad, you heard she likes that shit,” says Dick over facetime - or having her arrested - “Father, having bad taste in men is hardly a crime. She has yet to do anything to harm Timothy” Damian helpfully reminds him - and finally to fill out a restraining order - “For who, Karen?” Jason snaps. “Red Robin? Or you want to walk into that nut job and tell her she’s not allowed near Tim Drake-Wayne?”

Long story short, it’s chaos. Tim has had enough of a crazy night, so he sits back near the training area of the cave and sips the tea Alfred made him. Bruce is doing Tim’s stressed out circuit, pacing back and forth around the cave while his children follow him - Damian is holding the phone higher than his head so Dick can talk to Bruce at eye level - and they try to talk him out of doing anything stupid.

Most of them, anyway. It looks like Duke is definitely looking into the possibility of a restraining order.

Cass detaches herself from the mess and heads towards Tim. She looks calm, as Cass always does, and some of that calm transfers to him. When she takes a seat by his side, he smiles at her.

“Okay?” she asks. 

Tim shrugs. “Weirded out, mostly. I’ll be fine.”

She points at her then signs Tim’s house as a question. She’s asking him if he wants her to come over.

While Cass is one hell of a bodyguard, Tim thinks of Steph, who’s most definitely playing with his video games back at home, and of Jason, whose schedule mostly matches Tim’s, hence he is, more often than not, at one shout of distance. Tim can’t think of any place that feels safer than his home right now.

“I’m fine. Jay and Steph are taking care of me. I’ll just have to be twice as careful during patrol,” he says.

Cass nods, satisfied. She gives him a forehead kiss and leans against his side. The two of them watch their family yell at each other for the next ten minutes, matching serene smiles on their faces.

 Bruce settles for keeping Lisa under occasional watch. 

Barbara stalks her online and finds that Lisa has left a Red Robin fanclub (Tim did not know those existed) and closed all of her threads on the Red Robin subreddit (Tim knew about those, but kept his distance), making it seem that learning that Red Robin is just a polite-ish kid really killed her love. 

Bruce says he’ll keep tabs on her because he know she’s a meta, it’s not like he’s being overprotective, he totally knows Tim can take care of himself, really. 

Other than that, Bruce is way too happy about Jason’s new living arrangement. He even  almost smiles. 

 Tim… is fine. The whole thing is creepy, for sure, but he finds out that his siblings making so many jokes about it makes it easier to handle. Yay for their unhealthy coping mechanisms. 

He doesn’t think he will ever be okay with media, though. It’s annoying enough that he has to deal with reporters as Tim Drake-Wayne, he definitely doesn’t need the attention as Red Robin. 

Luckily for him, his siblings help him with that too. One time he’s wrapping a gang bust with Nightwing when a reporter comes running towards them, begging for a few answers. Red Robin cringes inwardly realizing there are no close buildings to use his grapple, but before he can say anything, Nightwing squeezes his shoulder. 

“Go, Timmy. I’ve got this.”

Tim smile. “Thanks, Dick.”

And he leaves the silent and swift way only a Bat can do. 

 Things are great. As great as they can be in Gotham, at least. Tim wakes up at 9am - an early time for a vigilante, but he got at least 5 hours of sleep, so that’s something - and heads to the kitchen. He finds Steph (who still swears she doesn’t live with them) and Jason bickering over pancakes they’re making. Smiling to himself, Tim mumbles a good morning and starts washing the dirty dishes from last night.

The peaceful morning is interrupted by Steph’s phone buzzing. She use a paper towel to clean her hands before checking it and…

“Uh… Timbers?” she calls.

He freezes, the pan he’s washing suddenly forgotten. “What now?”

Steph is trembling with contained laughter when she hands him the phone. Duke just sent her a link to a news article. Tim clicks and finds himself staring at the headline RIVALRY BETWEEN HEROES? followed by a clear picture of Nightwing and a blurry shot of Red Robin.

The article follows:

After dealing with an infamous gang of contrabandists that operated near Gotham’s harbor, Nightwing and Red Robin went their separate ways without much courtesy. Despite the short collab, it appears that Red Robin didn’t appreciate Nighwing’s help, his farewell words being a sarcastic “thanks” followed by calling Bludhaven’s hero a “dick”.

Tim raises his eyes to the other two. Steph is hiding her face into the crook of Jason’s neck, her shoulders still trembling a bit. Having read the article over Steph’s shoulder, Jason is biting his lip.

Tim deadpans: “This is the funniest shit that ever happened to me.”

The three of them explode in laughter and they cackle for a good minute, until the three of them are breathless and their cheeks hurt.

“I-I want to print that and frame it,” Steph manages between giggles. “Let’s hang it on the living room.”

“Good… ahaha… Good work, Timbers,” Jason says, smiling wide. “For that, you can have extra pancakes.”

Tim is still grinning when he goes back to his dish duty. Maybe being under the media attention isn't so bad after all.

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: Quarantine P3

Yay! I wrote more! Please comment

-

Clint lay in the medical level bed. Natasha and Steve stood outside the room, nervously anticipating the results, holding out their tablets as Bruce typed away at his own screen from within the tablet.

From your floor, you and Loki waited with baited breath. Thor on his floor, and Bucky on his own, everyone waited.

'Well, good news everyone.' Bruce announced, his voice coming through everyone's communication devices. 'Looks like it's nothing life threatening, just a rare strain of the flu, probably caused by contaminants from Tony's labs in the vents.' Cries of relief rang out and Bruce smiled, wiping at his glasses.

Natasha rushed into the medical room, grabbing Clint by the collar and shaking him, 'Don't you do that to me! You had me so worried!' She angrily growled, before hugging him tightly.

Clint coughed weakly, turning his head from her and winced, before hugging her back. 'Sorry 'Tash.'

Steve clasped Clint on the shoulder, 'We're just glad it's nothing too serious and you'll be back on your feet in a few days.'

You, Loki, Bucky, and Thor, appeared on the screen from your own floors, not yet making the many flights to the medical floor. 'We're glad it's nothing serious.' You said with a smile.

'Even though it's not as serious as we feared, we should still keep distance from each other, there's a lot of us in one building and I don't think it's wise to be all together.' Steve said, glancing over at the wall screen, 'Best you don't come visit.'

'Are you sure?' Bucky asked.

'We probably shouldn't even be hugging him.' Steve gave a reproving glance to Natasha.

Natasha raised her eyebrow in a challenging response and Steve didn't say anything more to her. Instead her turned back to Bucky, 'Clint is your isolation partner but I won't leave the care of him to just one person. We can all pitch in on this.'

Natasha muttered, 'You think Loki's going to risk her safety to help Clint?' She looked at you before looking back to Steve.

Loki's eyes narrowed on Natasha but he remained silent. His hand absently moved towards your upper arm, nearly touching it protectively but not quite brushing along it.

'I won't have my isolation partner risk infection because Clint can't control himself from crawling in the vents.' Loki said stiffly.

'Hey, I can control myself.' Clint replied indignantly with a cough.

You smiled placatingly, looking between the two of them.

'I think it's best to keep those with less certain immune systems away from each other.' Steve nodded, agreeing with Loki.

Loki raised his eyebrows before slowly smiling.

'It's agreed. Let's get Clint healthy and then, we'll go back into isolation just as we were before.' Steve clapped his hands together. 'Anyone else have anything to add?'

Thor grumbled, 'When does this end? I am beleaguered and bored, all I do is sit around, even your movies are of no entertainment.'

'The exercise room is open, Thor, you can use that.' Bucky offered, 'We could spar.'

Thor grunted.

'You could continue your studies.' Loki tried.

Thor groaned, exiting from the call.

Loki glanced down at you, then shrugged and exited from the call.

'You should probably check in on him soon.' You said softly.

'Must I? Must I always keep after him?' Loki sighed, setting down the tablet on the counter.

'You're a better brother than they give you credit for.' You said, resting your hand on his forearm.

Loki smiled at you softly, looking down at your hand.

Pulling your hand away, you turned your head and coughed into the crook of your arm. It was a small cough, but a cough nonetheless.

Loki's brow creased in worry. 'Are you alright?'

You frowned, biting at your lower lip, 'Just a tickle in my throat I think. Or hope.'

Loki pressed his hand to your forehead gently, it was cool, very soothing and you felt so warm under his touch. 'You feel warm, but I cannot tell.'

Sighing, you leaned against his hand. 'I don't know.'

'I'm normally cold.' He admitted.

'I thought so. You feel really nice.'

Loki smiled, a touch of pink on his cheeks.

Abruptly the tablet started ringing, and Loki pulled away from you with a snarl. 'What?'

'Loooooki.' Thor's whine could be heard through an echo. He seemed to be in the bathroom.

'What?' Loki repeated irritably.

'I need your help.'

'Where are you, why aren't you in view of the camera?' Loki held up the tablet, twisting and turning it to see the image better that he might view Thor.

There was silence for a bit and Loki finally could make out the interior of Thor's bathroom but still not see Thor. 'I messed up.'

'What did you do?' Loki grumbled, though his irritation at being interrupted was slowly giving way to curiosity.

'I found one of Stark's hair trimmers and I was somewhat fond of the way it had been in the past when it was out of my way, and I thought perhaps I might trim it a bit on the tips...'

'Go on.'

'Now that there are no traditions to uphold, and father to please, I figured I could let my hair change for a bit, or just I don't know.'

'What did you do, Thor?'

'I didn't know how the thing worked!'

'Thor.' Loki said gently, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You moved closer to Loki so you could try and peer into the tablet and into the darkened bathroom with Loki who was still scanning the place curiously.

Slowly the tablet lowered and light was visible: a buzzcut down the center of Thor's hair, otherwise long and golden mane, one strip of flat nearly bald head was visible.

You fought to keep a straight face, managing a soft, 'Oh.'

Loki blinked beside you, a small snort escaping him.

Thor moaned long and low. 'Looooki.'

'You probably should've made me promise not to laugh, brother.' Loki muttered, fighting back a snicker.

'Is it truly that terrible?' Thor groaned, brushing his hand through his hair.

'Oh all that and more.' Loki nodded emphatically.

'Loki, be nice.' You tried softly, fighting back giggles.

Loki raised his eyebrow as he glanced at you. 'I am being nice, I haven't commented on it. I'm just agreeing with him.'

'Loki, please brother, you have to make it better.' Thor pleaded.

Loki sighed, 'Do I really?'

Thor nodded emphatically, his hair flopping around.

Loki glanced down at you and you said, 'It would prove my point.'

'Which is?' Loki asked.

'That you are the better brother, always there to help him, no matter what.'

Thor was too busy looking in the mirror and trying to fix his mangled haircut to hear you, moaning softly all the while.

Loki sighed, 'Oh alright. Fine. Thor. Thor!'

Thor looked back at the tablet. 'Yes?'

'I'll do what I can but it won't be amazing. My skills are limited, but it will be better than it is.'

Thor's face lit up and a smile spread across his features, 'Oh thank you! Thank you brother, truly you are wonderful! I'll be down to your floor right away!'

'No. I'm coming to you. I won't risk you bringing contamination here.'

'I can't watch the haircut?' You asked.

'I'll take a picture.' Loki said, 'I don't trust him not to have some illness on him, besides, you need to rest, whatever this cough is, I don't like it. I want it gone.'

You smiled and shook your head ruefully, 'I'm sure it's nothing, Loki.'

-

Loki returned a few hours later, looking pleased with himself. You had been dozing on the couch, a large quilt wrapped around you. You started upon him reentering the apartment living room but quickly regained your senses and smiled upon seeing him.

Loki held up the before picture, promising Thor that he would delete it, but saving it to a special folder. Personal use only, he said. And then the after picture. Thor's hair was longer on the edges and fairly short in the middle, it wasn't a professional cut but it was certainly decent and would hide Thor's horrible attempts at a self haircut. It looked almost like it had done when he first arrived on Earth after the whole Thanos incident so it wasn't too terrible all things considered. Thor had said Loki did better than a crazy old guy so Loki took the compliment.

'You've been cooped up inside for a while.' Loki said softly. It was late in the evening and seemed to call for soft voices.

'Yea, the quarantine has been going on for a while now.'

'I have an idea.' Loki murmured, scooping you into his arms, thick, giant blanket and all. You leaned into him, and closed your eyes again. For a bit you dozed as he walked, taking you wherever he would. You trusted him, wherever that would be, knowing it would likely be in the tower anyways.

There was a rush of cool air on your face and your eyes fluttered open as you heard Loki's boots crunching on the gravel of the Stark Tower roof.

Your mouth fell agape as you stared up at the vastness of space laid out before you, all the stars in the sky spreading for miles around you and Loki as he carried you to a corner of the roof where the two of you could sit down and nestle together.

'Oh, Loki...' You breathed slowly, gazing up at the stars blinking overhead. 'This is beautiful.' You breathed in the sharp air, cool and crisp. So high above the sounds of the city that you couldn't hear the cars or traffic. And with the quarantine, there really wasn't much cars or traffic.

Pulling back your blanket, you patted it for Loki to crawl in next to you. He happily obliged, crawling under and pulled you into his arms before carefully wrapping you back into the blanket once more.

The two of you sat cuddled together, you in his lap, Loki just gently touching at your arms, feeling you in his lap as you gazed up into the infinity of the cosmos. You asked him about Asgard, about his home, what he remembered of growing up, anything that came to mind. And he asked you about yourself. The conversation flowed easily and for hours, only the occasional fits of coughing interrupting the two of you. Eventually Loki conjured water for you to ease your talking and make it more comfortable.

'And that, is the Lokabrenna.' Loki smiled at the name.

You took a sip of your water and leaned back into his chest, just loving the deep bass of his voice in your ears. 'I could listen to you talk all night.'

'Could you now?' Loki asked, chuckling.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, 'Just saying.'

Loki leaned down and nuzzled your face, 'If I were talking to you, I would be more than happy to.'

'R-really?' You felt your flush deepen.

Loki nodded.

You bit at your lip. 'You know what would make this night even better?'

Loki hummed thoughtfully. 'What?'

'Nevermind.' You squeaked, certain your face was on fire.

Loki leaned around you, glancing at your face, looking at you curiously, 'What?'

'I was just going to say, that maybe if... Never mind... It's silly, I'm probably sick.' You forced a cough and turned away.

When you finished cough, Loki touched your cheek and turned your face back to his, 'May I kiss you?' He asked shyly, through long lashes.

'I was hoping you'd ask.'

Loki leaned forward and his lips gently met yours, slow yet short. It was brief and hesitant, just barely connecting, a lifetime that lasted an instant before pulling apart. Then another round of coughs were wracking through you as you turned away and were coughing into the crook of your arm. Perhaps he had taken your breath away.

You inhaled deeply, gazing up at him with a giant smile, 'Sorry.' You croaked.

Loki looked at you concerned, some of his black locks falling in his face. You stroked his cheek, brushing the hair away and touching at his sharp cheekbones.

'Are you alright?' He asked, 'Was that too much?'

'That was wonderful. I'm afraid to ask for more.'

Loki smiled, exhaling softly, his warm breath cascading over your face.

At that moment the dawn chorus began and Loki glanced over his shoulder at the first rays of the sun appearing over the horizon. 'Perhaps I should get you back inside to some sleep. If you are unwell I shouldn't keep you up at all hours of the night.'

You bit your lip, looking to his thin pink lips, so pale and smooth and longed for another kiss. But there was all the time for that in the world. There was the whole rest of quarantine, and then perhaps the rest of life after that. Who knew what the future might hold?

'Yea, let's get some sleep.'

[mattzerella-sticks]

Restless (Batman/Flash (Bruce/Barry) E-rated fic, 5.2k

Returning home from a mission in outer space, the team picks up a distress signal off-course. They rush off to help, landing on a strange alient planet teeming with life. Especially within the plant kingdom.

While guarding the Javelin, Bruce and Barry encounter one such member while engaging in some familiar fight-flirting. Will its effects spell trouble for the League, or help these two relax their guards long enough to explore new possibilities?

(Hint: It's a little bit of both)

           Bruce scrolls through his tablet, monitoring the Javelin’s functions from his seat at the front. One of many tasks he divides his focus between, including watching the video feed of the open bay door and checking the communication systems in case the others radio in. All necessary when designated support, on guard for when the mission goes sour and a quick exit is needed.

           They picked up a distress signal on their way back from a diplomatic mission. Helping unite warring factions by exposing the true masterminds of the conflict. A group of gem smugglers who used battlefield confusion to mine and transport a supply of crystals that, when broken down correctly, can become a low-cost substitute for fuel. When they left the leaders not only agreed on peace but also dedicated the efforts they put towards war into research on these crystals.

           Job done, he and the others began the journey back. Halfway from Earth the calm atmosphere was quickly shattered by blaring alarms and the crackle of an open transmission. “Help! Repeat *buzz* in danger… anyone… of control *buzz* Help!”

           “Bruce,” Clark steadied a hand on his chair, leaning beside him, “Can you trace where this is coming from?”

           He flipped a few more switches, already twisting a knob when Clark stepped in. “Working on it.”

           The signal came from a planet two star systems away. Lush with vegetation, Bruce found landing a tad impossible without crushing a tree or two. They ultimately landed in a small clearing near a jagged outcrop; rocks and leaves providing cover for their ship. Fully settled John lay out the orders – him, Clark, Diana, and J’onn would scout ahead for the source while he stayed behind.

           “Ugh, I’m so bored.”

           Him, and one other person.

           Bruce glances at Barry, the speedster’s knees tucked up under his chin while he glares at the windshield. He vibrates in his seat, electricity sparking from his eyes. “Stop it,” Bruce tells him, tapping on a window and bringing it full-size, “you’ll make the whole ship shake.”

           Barry scoffs, directing his glare at Bruce. “At least something would happen, then.”

           He did not take his assignment lightly. “Why do I have to guard the ship, too? Batman can handle it!”

           “Bruce used up a lot of his artillery on our last mission,” John said, pointing at Bruce. “In the chance that enemies sneak past our defenses and overrun him, we’d lose our position.”

           “Very unlikely chance,” Bruce reminds them. Helping Barry because he would rather guard the Javelin alone. And not with a speedster who proved more distracting than he can handle.

           “Even so,” John continued, “Barry, you would provide an escape path. Or scour the planet in three seconds, find us, and assemble the calvary. Now there will be no further discussions, got it?” Barry opened his mouth in protest, snapping it closed just as fast given the sharp look on John’s face. “Good. Hopefully this won’t take long, and we can make up for lost time.” He strides towards the exit, the others at his heels. “Let’s move out!”

           That was over an hour ago. John checked in an hour after they left, reporting they have not found any sign of a threat so far. Bruce gave them updated specs on the transmission he decoded while they were out, about how the signal came from somewhere north of where they landed. He signed off, promising Bruce a second call in another hour.

           Another hour where Bruce must keep the fraying strings of his patience tied together lest they snap, and he does something he will regret.

           Barry slumps in his seat, legs dropped on the dashboard console and arms hanging off the sides. He sighs dramatically, again, drawing Bruce away from his duties. “Feet off.”

           “Why?” he asks, digging his heels in, “I’m not even on any of the controls!”

           “Because I said so,” Bruce turns to face him, brows drawn deep behind his cowl, “that’s why.”

           Barry matches his expression, nose twitching with irritation. Suddenly, though, all the creases of his mask smooth, and Barry offers a half-lidded stare instead. Shrugs, he removes his feet and lets them crash to the floor. “Fine.”

           “Fine?”

           “Yeah, why are we wasting time arguing, y’know?” The corners of his mouth tick upwards, a small chuckle escaping past his lips. “I’m bored… but not that bored to care about where I can place my feet.” Then he tugs off his cowl, running gloved hands through sweat-spiked locks. “It sure is hot in here, though.”

           While strange, Bruce treats his resignation as a victory. “Glad we can agree,” he says, stilted, “you can turn down the temperature, if you want…”

           Barry stretches casually, rolling the wrong knob. A burst of heat explodes from the vents and onto them, causing the already warm air to swell further. Bruce curses at the sweat, pooling under the edges of his cowl, escapes and race down his face. He fixes Barry’s mistake and readies another tirade.

           Only nothing comes. A sweet scent blew between them, his nose itching from its brush. Bruce sniffs, rubbing his nose. He breathes in deep, although the intent with which he does so is lost on him. Bruce cannot remember what he wanted to say.

           Relaxing against his seat, limbs loose and hanging, he tries grasping for his thoughts. They slip out of reach like loose paper on the wind. Like confetti. His lips fold in a small smile, prompted by the comparison – imagining that ticker tape raining overhead while in a parade.

           A trumpeter blows a horn, except it isn’t that. Red brackets the video on his monitor, showing a large number of vines creeping through the entryway. Bruce then glances up when he sees a few, similar vines inching over the windshield. He squints, wracking his brain for a response. The sense that he forgets an important detail hung overhead. Looming shadow forgotten when he hears Barry clearing his throat beside him.

           “It’s so hot,” he whines again. Barry has one leg up over his knee while he tugs on his boot. It pops off with a relieved sigh, Barry tossing it behind him while he frees his other foot. When finished there he starts pulling on the neck of his cowl.

           Bruce slips a finger under his own heated costume, adding needed breathing room. He swallows around a knot in his throat. “What are you… what’re you doing?”

           “Cooling off,” Barry explains, fabric pooling at his waist. Toned arms and chest on display for Bruce, his eyes following the darker blond hairs as they lead downwards. Suggestive, coloring Bruce’s imagination with images he has never seen but desperately wants. Craves more than ever before.

           Barry stands, whipping off his pants and giving Bruce’s fantasy points of reference. Bruce blanches, knowing he should look away but unable to. “That’s better,” Barry sits again, one leg thrown casually over the side of the chair. He waits a beat, and then faces Bruce. “Y’know,” he whispers, grinning, “you’re lookin’ a little hot around the collar.”

           “I am?”

           “Take all that off,” Barry waves at his costume, “it’s so hot. Why’re you even wearing it anyway?”

           Bruce doesn’t know, nor does Bruce care he cannot remember. “Sure,” he says, shucking the cowl and cape in one swift motion. His shirt follows, backtracked by an appreciative grunt from nearby. Barry watches him undress with one hand stroking his heavy cock. A bead of pre-come leaks out which he wipes up with his thumb. Bruce’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, skin scorching even though unburdened by thick fabric.

           Barry giggles, Bruce shifting his gaze towards his face. He hides a wide, bright grin behind a fist, and hazy eyes spark in delight. “Why’d you stop?” Barry asks, “it was getting good…” His pumps grow slow, achingly slow. “Don’t you want to feel good?” Bruce has not understood much these past few minutes, but the hidden meaning clicks immediately.

           Fumbling with his utility belt, Bruce kicks off his boots and jumps up. Bounces while peeling his pants off. Until he stands, naked, his own dick hanging beside his thigh. “I want to feel good,” he says.

           “So do I,” Barry rises, “so do I…” He runs his fingers through the hairs at the nape of Bruce’s neck. “Let’s feel good together.”

           “All right…”

           Bruce presses his lips against Barry’s, skin tingling from the speedster’s inherent electricity. Static latching onto nerve endings and setting them off like fireworks. His hands travel down the planes of Barry’s body, settling on his waist. He squeezes with bruising force while he works the other man’s mouth open with his tongue.

           Barry responds with matched fervor. Guides Bruce through forceful tugs on his hair, other hand vibrating and circling his hole. Bruce moans into the kiss, legs buckling from the pleasure. The tremors still, Barry’s hand latched tight on his lower back. Together they sink into the floor. He lies on his back, legs lifted and spread, resting on Barry’s shoulders.

           “How badly do you want this, Bruce?”

           “So badly,” he tells Barry, squirming in his grip. A rogue foot nudges too close to the speedster’s cheek and draws a chuckle out of him. “Very badly.”

           “Perfect…” Barry dips below where Bruce can see him, blond locks like a blanket for his dick. Tight, black coils mixing with the pale-yellow color of Barry’s hair. He opens Bruce’s ass and noses at it, first. Tickling the hole and blurring his vision further. Bruce bites his lip while stars dance overhead.

           Barry licks a stripe up his crack, darting quickly inside Bruce’s hole. “Do it again.” He does, longer, twisting against the wave-like motions of his fluttering muscles.

           “Y’know, I always wondered what bats tasted like…” Bruce snorts a laugh which quickly transitions into a moan when Barry slips a finger in where his tongue used to be. Vibrating and crooked, Barry finds Bruce’s prostate. He arches, sliding on his forgotten cape. Bruce claws at Barry’s scalp while a large drop of pre-come soaks into his hair. “You like that?”

           Someone answers for him. A voice crackles across nearby speakers, yelling throughout the room. An attempt at bursting the bubble he and Barry exist within. “Bruce! Barry! Do you copy?” Bruce recognizes the voice, but no name nor face appears in his mind besides Barry’s. “I repeat – do you copy! We’ve found the source of the distress signal and – Diana, on your right – and it’s a trap! We’re sending our coordinates for an extraction.” His voice, drenched with anger, weighs heavily on his good mood. Bruce’s smile falls as he stares at the red, blinking light on the console. “Hello? Is anyone even there –“

           Barry looks up from his hole, finger working a steady rhythm despite the interruption. “Doesn’t anyone have manners?” he scoffs, “We’re in the middle of something.”

           “Let me handle it.” Blindly, Bruce thumps his foot along the console. Pressing randomly at buttons until the red, blinking light snaps and fades; the voice along with it. Silence governs the machinery. “Done.”

           “Beautiful…” Barry wraps his free hand around Bruce’s ankle and brings it close, kissing the side of his foot. “Thank you.”

           “Thank me by adding another finger.” He listens, the second digit stretching his hole. Barry scissors it open, Bruce’s toes curling from the act. “Yeah…”

           “Hey, man, don’t let me do all the work,” Barry says, smirking, “play with yourself a little.”

           “Hmm…” Bruce slides his hand out of the other man’s hair, loosely gripping his straining dick. It pulses with urgency, a steady leak coating a match of skin that grows when Bruce messily coats it along the rest of his purpling cockhead. “Oh, Barry,” he hisses, jerking, “can you…”

           “Can I what?”

           “Stick it in me. I want your cock in me.”

           “Skipping ahead? And they say I’m fast.”

           “Too long…” Bruce admits, shivering when Barry lays his hand over Bruce’s and helps stroke his dick. “Wanted this… for too long.”

           Barry cools, fingers half-inside Bruce and stopping him from continuing the rub of his dick. Bruce whines, low in his throat, asking why Barry stopped. “Sorry,” he whispers, a light bursting behind the fog of his eyes. Like someone lit a torch in a lighthouse, so weary sailors could find their way home. “Sorry I… a thought zipped by me.”

           “What kind of thought?”

           “Well,” Barry wiggles a tiny gesture with his hidden hand, Bruce’s knee bending from the bundle of nerves he hit. “When you said that, it was funny because I’ve always felt the same. So that thought that raced by – the one that happened just then – it was me wondering why, if we wanted each other… why we never did this?”

           Bruce dives into the pools of his memories for a reason. Except they’re dark, inaccessible, covered in a film that prevents Bruce from knowing any other time that isn’t now. In the heat of the moment, too long meant from when Barry removed his cowl to laying on his back with Barry’s fingers in his ass. If Bruce could see what his mind hides, he doubts there aren’t a thousand scenes like this waiting. The idea of he and Barry not enjoying each other’s bodies proves laughable, which is why he snickers generously. “We’re doing it now,” Bruce tells him, caressing Barry’s chin, “isn’t that what matters?”

           “Yeah… you’re right.”

           “Good. Now, stop worrying,” Bruce says, “there’s nothing to worry about. Us fucking’s all that matters.”

           Barry nods, nose wrinkling from the effort of a great whiff. Light dies behind his gaze once more; blue dulled and cloudy, hidden behind sagging lids. “Yeah, I wanna fuck.”

           “Then fuck me.”

           He wastes no time flipping Bruce onto his chest. Bruce pushes up onto his elbows, leaning all his weight to one side while he grabs his dick. Nearly falling, hitting his chin on the hard metal, when Barry shoves his cock into Bruce with reckless abandon. Aim true, he grazes the prostate and vibrates.

           Bruce twists his dick, crying from the pleasure. His spastic jerking skips a beat with every forceful thrust past Bruce’s rim. Barry keeps him steady with a firm grip on his waist. Pain disappearing with each second as ecstasy rises and rises like a volcano. Trembling, sweaty and straining, Bruce knows he will come after some more humping.          

           Except, also aware of Bruce’s impending orgasm, Barry taps into his speed and in quick succession spears Bruce repeatedly. Mashes his prostate like the button on a controller.

           He screams, orgasm ripped from him. Bruce coats his hand and stains the cape below, collapsing onto it when the act drained him of any remaining strength. Barry, wasting his endurance with the finishing blow, follows Bruce’s lead. Pulls out and comes over Bruce’s waiting back.

           Barry collapses atop Bruce, rolling off after a beat when he regains some wherewithal. Ejaculate painted on his chest from the brief embrace. They pant, side by side, while the smell of come mixes with the heady sweetness already present. Bruce breathes in a deep, contented sigh, shifting until he, too, rests on his back.

           Looking over at Barry, he finds the other’s eyes already on him. “Hey.”

           “Hey,” he says, smiling, “that was…”

           “It sure was.” A loud rumble cuts through the mood, both men giggling from the sound. “Was that you or me?”

           “Depends. You hungry?”

           “Starving,” Bruce yawns, raising his arms overhead. “I can definitely eat, like, a lot…”

           Barry nods, sitting up. “I can go get us some food and bring it back here,” he suggests, stepping over towards the exit. Pauses at the door to glance back at Bruce. “Maybe have some more sex after we eat.”

           “Definitely have more sex.”

           He winks, “Be back in a flash.” Barry leaves, then, Bruce alone in the strange, metal cave he and Barry began in.

           Rising, Bruce inspects the area while scratching at the come drying on his stomach with his come-covered hand. He yawns and blinks blearily at the only section of the area not covered in grey. Pink blossoms covered a long rectangle, specks of green from their vines popping up where the petals didn’t overlap. Bruce reaches forward, except an invisible barrier blocks his attempt. Sucking on the finger, he pouts. “Bummer.”

           Disappointment fades, Bruce reminded of his hunger with another growl. “I could really use something to eat,” he mutters, turning and leaving the cockpit.

           On his directionless journey, no destination set in mind, Bruce comes across another wall of those pink flowers. Barry studies them from nearby, a strange expression that wrinkles his gorgeous features. “Careful,” Bruce says, walking over, “you can’t touch those.”

           He raises a brow, brushing a finger against one of the petals. Bruce stares in awe, copying Barry. Flinches slightly when he thinks he hits the barrier again. Except there is none, so he pets a lone flower. He plucks it and twirls it between his fingers, smiling.

           “I was going... somewhere,” Barry explains, “but then I noticed… are these – are these supposed to be here?”

           “They’re very pretty,” Bruce says, dragging Barry’s face towards his, “Like you.” He places the flower in the crook of the speedster’s ear, hand tracing a simple pattern on his cheek that he seals with a kiss. “Why shouldn’t it be here?”

           Barry thins his lips in a serious frown, eyes clearing up. Suddenly, though, they hear a low rumble from nearby.

           Turning, all the flowers on the vines puckered. Buds closed and asleep. But then they explode, showering them with yellow dust that drifts through the air and dissipates. Leaving only a sweet trace of having existed, briefly.

           Bruce coughs, “That was weird…” A whining from his stomach distracts him, though, knocking the eruption out of his thoughts. “Hey… was that you or me?”

           Wobbling on his heels, Barry shrugs. “Depends. You hungry?”

           “Definitely. I can eat, like, a lot…”

           Barry jerks his thumb behind him. “Let’s see if we can scavenge something. And then we can have sex.”

           “Yes!” Bruce pulls Barry in for a passionate kiss, squeezing his stiff cock. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

           “Since when?”

           “Since always…” Barry begins leading Bruce away from the flowers. However, before they fully leave its presence, Bruce snatches another flower. Stares down at it while unaware of his surroundings. Sniffs the heavenly perfume and wades in the thick molasses that is his mind. He tucks it behind his ear. Lets go of Barry’s hand and ensnaring his waist, pumping his cock while they walk. Barry laughs at the gesture. “Since as long as I can remember…”

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

           Diana clears a path for them through the jungle brush with wide sweeps of her sword, taking over for John when his ring warned his battery wore thin. He hadn’t recharged since they left the K’zvig Nebula. Thankfully, there was enough for the side job they picked up on the way home.

           “Stupid bandits,” John bats a low-hanging branch out of his sight, spluttering when it launches an attack and whacks him in the face. He growls, snapping it from the tree. “Why couldn’t it have been a natural disaster or an accident… but no, we had to deal with bandits.”

           Clark offers a comforting shrug. “At least we made sure they wouldn’t fool any more travelers.”

           The distress signal, in reality, laid a trap for any passing ships that heard it. Reeling prey towards the bandit camp where their goods and lives were stolen. When they sent that message, the bandits wanted to intercept a passing military vessel from a nearby planet, carrying a rumored experimental weapon. By mistake, they latched onto the frequency the Javelin used.

           Being the heroes they are, the bandits contended with forces far above their weight class. But they put up a strong fight. Incapacitated Clark early on in the fight and bracketed J’onn with imitation fire, both products of the local fauna; they weaponized nature against them. With John’s power running low, Diana’s quick thinking saved the day. She recognized a nearby plant from a mishap they had on their path towards the bandit camp and lassoed it, kicking the large seed from inside the bulb and watching it explode where their numbers were the largest. After that the group collected runaway stragglers and radioed for the local law enforcements.

           “Hopefully,” John sighs, “Although I still think we should have stayed with them until they were taken away.”

           “You know we couldn’t. Bruce and Barry might need us.”

           They were all unnerved by the lack or response from their friends. Neither when they reached out during the attack nor when it ended did they answer. Each subsequent ignored call fueled the necessity for a quick retreat from the planet.

           John identified a rock formation he spotted when they first arrived, and realized they were close. Although he knew nothing about what they would find when stumbling upon their ship.

           “John? Clark? I think you two should take a look at this…”

           Diana’s voice sunk any positivity he could have spun. The two men exchanged glances while darting through the underbrush, stepping into the clearing behind Diana and J’onn. “What the hell happened?”

           Reminiscent of a parade float, flowers and vines fully blanketed the Javelin. Across the front, twining around its wings, and crawling inside through the open bay doors. Their ride made completely useless by overgrown weeds.

           “Well,” Diana sighs, “I guess we know what happened to the others.”

           Clark frowns, “Really? You think they’re still inside?”

           “I detect two brain patterns within,” J’onn says, hands at his temples, “Though faint… I recognize them as Barry’s and Bruce’s…”

           Diana nods, drawing her blade once more. “It shouldn’t take too long, then.” She advances, sword at the ready. John watches Diana raise her weapon, about to strike, when he notices the flowers retract in a defensive position.

           “Diana! Watch out!” Regardless of his energy levels, John shoots off a green rope and wraps around his friend’s waist. Pulls her from the path of the flower’s spray, pollen exploding out of its mouth. He drags Diana towards him and creates a bubble around all four while more and more flowers expel their pollen.

           “I almost…” Diana tucks her sword in its scabbard, nodding at John. “Thank you.”

           Clark touches the bubble, grazing his fingers at where the pollen collects on its surface. “What the hell is this?”

           John glares at the now greenish-pink flowers waiting, their petals pointed and ready for another puff. His ring speaks aloud, reminding him of his current situation. “Ring,” he asks it, “can you search the database and see if you can find information on what kind of flowers we’ve got on our hands?”

           His ring assents, tacking on a second warning at the end. John waves it off. More concerned with whether or not the shield will last given his power and not with the power, itself.

           “Flowers that have seven hyper-pigmented pink petals, yellow, explosive pollen and an overly sweet aroma are known as Lyossus Blossoms. Native to the planet Rylyn IX, they are used by inhabitants and visitors recreationally, in religious ceremonies, and medical procedures because of the pollens’ effect on the human body. By sensing danger using the longest petal, these flowers’ defense mechanism neutralizes any aggression they sense. Ingesting pollen – whether by breathing it in, eating it, or even letting it touch your skin, as a human – will neutralize both the pre-frontal cortex and hippocampus. And adrenaline levels will fall while dopamine rises.”

           Clark chuckles, “This is space weed?” Three sets of glares focus on him, stifling his good mood. “Sorry.”

           “Ring,” he continues, “Is there any serious harm for humans who are exposed to this pollen.”

           “In the short term, no. However, overexposure can lead to death by starvation and dehydration, as the person loses inner drive to fulfill either of those needs.”

           “Like the lotuses from the Odyssey…” Diana crosses her arms, studying the field. “It took all of Odysseus’s willpower to resist that temptation. I’m sure if we stride forward, we can resist the effects long enough to activate the ship’s defenses.”

           John shakes his head, “That’s too risky Diana. You heard my ring; it can be absorbed through the skin. We need to think of another way.” His ring darkens briefly, shield glitching. A few spores burst through that the group are careful in avoiding. “And think of it fast.”

           “Hey,” Clark says, looking around the bubble, “Where’s J’onn?”

           A tiny explosion draws their attention. One section of the vines holding their ship captive bursts into flames, the flowers withering into ash. “Apologies,” J’onn speaks in their minds, calm as ever, “I figured taking action was the best possible course rather than discuss it. Since I can become intangible and have laser vision… it will not be too difficult clearing this away.”

           “That… makes sense.” John smirks, shrugging, “Carry on then.”

           J’onn mows through the plants while the others wait, contemplating how they can disperse the remaining pollen. When the Martian telepathically communicates his accomplishment, John brings down the shield. Clark blows once the first hole appears, scattering the yellow dots everywhere except their ship.

           “Bruce and Barry, J’onn?” John asks, “Are they still inside?”

           He lands beside them by the bay doors, fully visible and solid. “I can definitely sense them, but their thoughts are still muddled… my best guess, there remains an abundance of pollen within the ship.”

           “Can’t incinerate that without blowing up the ship…” John presses his ring against the metal, pouring all his willpower into the flickering jewelry. “Ring, do you have enough power to connect with the ship’s systems and activate the air filtration system?” It beeps once, a ‘yes’ without risking energy. He waits. Listens while the Javelin rattles and wheezes. His friends stand clustered behind him, their presence a necessary anchor while he remains focused on his ring.

           Finally, it beeps again. “Cabin air has been recycled. All outside toxins are safely stored for disposal. Power at zero percent.”

           John sags, Clark catching him. “You did good, John.”

           “Don’t feel too good.”

           “You need your rest,” she says, “which you will get once we’re back on ship. Although… first we should check on our friends. Make sure they’re fine.”

           Clark snickers under breath, muttering. “Bruce… high on space weed… this I have to see…”

           The group climb aboard their ship, careful stepping over the ashen remains of flowers caught in J’onn’s laser vision. Soon the ash lessens, replaced with discarded wrappers and bottles the closer they move towards the cockpit. Hushed laughter reaches their ears from behind the door, each of them exchanging looks. Diana, at the front, hits the panel that opens it.

           Bruce and Barry, both naked, turn from their seats at the head of the cockpit. Barry’s foot rested in Bruce’s hands, mid-massage, while their faces were blank and muddied due to the pollen’s effects. The last two flowers rested in their hair.

           “Hey,” Bruce says, turning and showing off his genitals, “welcome to the party.”

           Clark nearly drops John from the shock, grip slack. But then it becomes too tight, Clark gazing at the machinery on the side instead of at his friend’s unabashed display.

           “Bruce, Barry,” Diana coughs, gracefully composed given the situation, “are either of you… okay?”

           They exchange twin looks of confusion, Barry pointing at himself and asking, “Are you talking to us?”

           “Christ,” Clark hisses, John’s bones straining under his hold, “what did they get up to while we were out?”

           John takes in the discarded clothing, especially Bruce’s soiled cape, and pieces a few visuals together. He shudders once its complete. “Nothing we should ever think about again. Ever.” He clears his throat, “J’onn? Can you handle… whatever this is?”

           “I can remove the flowers, but do not believe my powers can shake them from this stupor.”

           “Allow me,” she tells the others, brandishing her lasso, “I would like to try something.”

           J’onn nods, disappearing through the floor. Bruce and Barry crow with glee, latter applauding his trick. In the next breath he appears behind them on the outside of the Javelin. He removes their accessories, safely dumping them before their pollen could release.

           With those gone, Diana tosses her lasso on the parts where their bodies are the closest: Bruce’s hand and Barry’s foot. She pulls tight, wrapping the excess around her knuckles. “Listen to me friends,” Diana croons, soft and gentle as if she coaxes woodland creatures into the light. “Remember who you really are. Let the golden perfect wash away what has been done to you, so you can return.”

           Her lasso glows with godly light, John’s vision overcome. He closes his eyes, but the light penetrates it still. Suddenly it disappears, and he blinks away the spots. In their seats, Bruce and Barry sit slumped over and unconscious. Diana gathers her lasso, clipping it onto her belt. “If this works, they should be themselves again.”

           Barry awakens first. His head jumps up and his gaze bounces around the room with lightning speed. “The mission,” he asks, standing, “what happened with the –“ He steps on a lone boot, and that helps Barry realize his current state. “Holy -!” Collapsing on the seat, Barry snatches the boot and covers his waist. Curls in on himself, thinking it might help. Splotchy redness spreads over his shoulders and knees.

           They already saw enough.

           Bruce follows soon after, face darkening as he stares at his exposed genitalia. He growls low in his throat, “What… happened.”

           “You were under the influence of the local flora,” J’onn tells them, “and it caused you to… well –“

           “You were space stoned!” Clark rips the band-aid off, earning more of the ire Bruce originally shot Barry’s way. “Can you,” he turns his head, “Can you please go put your clothes back on?”

           He stands, collecting the fallen pieces of his costume. Folds the cape without addressing the obvious stain on it. Then Bruce storms out of the cockpit, a noticeable blush highlighting the roundness of his cheeks.

           J’onn places a hand on Barry’s shoulder, startling him. “You should probably get dressed, too.”

           “Yep!” Barry nods, “Yeah, I’ll… if you will all excuse me.” Because of his powers, no one sees Barry leave. Absence marked by the empty chair and invisible uniform.

           John rips himself free from Clark’s grip, taking seat at the helm. “While they… freshen up, we should probably begin take-off. Otherwise we’ll be trapped with more of those flowers and who knows what else.” He flips a few switches, careful with his touch. “J’onn? Can you co-pilot?”

           “Of course.”

           Clark and Diana fall in behind them, a heated discussion brewing between them. John eavesdrops, muscles in control of following through the procedures.

           “So, what does this mean for our bet?”

           “What do you mean?”

           “Well, Bruce and Barry did it. But… does it count?”          

           “I don’t see why it shouldn’t?”

           “Because they were under the influence of a plant. Did what they do really come from them acting on repressed feelings or because the pollen made them sexually charged and they were the only ones here?”

           “That shouldn’t discount what happened. It’d be the same if they got drunk or high on Earth… if Barry could get drunk, or high, that is…”

           John sighs, flipping the final switch on the console. He drags the yoke close to his chest, steady while the Javelin rises. “I think it should count,” John adds, startling Clark and Diana, “that way I get my money. Why do you think I made them stay behind anyway?”

[arrow-guy]

Struck By Night (5/??)

Summary: Fate has a funny way of pulling people together. Whether or not that’s a good thing, only time will tell.

A/N: Hi, it’s been over a year since this fic was last updated, but we’re bringing this bitch back because I still love vampires and Tony Stark. Hope you guys have fun with the Drama lmao

Pairing: AvengersxReader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings:

Part 4

I sit on the couch in the common area, a mug of scalding hot tea clutched in my hands. I stare into the fire blazing in the hearth and sink into the cushions as best I can.

“I thought you didn't like human food.”

Startled, my body jerks when I tear my eyes away from the fire and tea sloshes over the side of the mug, onto my bare hands. I hiss in pain and jump up from the couch, shaking the tea from my hands. Tony stands behind the couch, his eyes wide.

“I don't usually. Tea helps me warm up, though. Especially in the middle of winter.” Tony reaches out for the mug and I hand it to him. “Tea isn't much of a food though is it?”

He sets the mug on the counter and grabs a dishtowel from the fridge handle. “I guess not,” he says. “Sorry I snuck up. Didn't mean to startle you.”

I take the towel from him and wipe my hands off before moving on to dab at the spots on my pant leg.

“It's fine, I should have been paying better attention.” I dab at the wet spot on my knee a little before giving up. “What’s up?”

“Bruce told me about your idea to create a blood substitute that would be viable both for human use and a food source for you.” Tony shakes his head. “You think we could do it?”

I shrug and plop down on the couch again. “Do you? Because Dr. Banner seems interested in at least trying.”

Tony takes a seat at the opposite end and folds one leg under himself so that he can face me.

“It's not that I don't think it can be done, we're literal geniuses. The time in which we have to do so is what worries me. You only have so much Hydra blood. It won't last forever. What are your options when it runs out if we don't finish in time?”

“I'm no stranger to rationing food, Tony. I've already started planning out meals so that there won't be any hunger issues along the way. If I get a little light-headed I'll stay in my room.” I scratch my cheek. “Even if it doesn't work for me, as long as it's a viable option for humans, it has to be worth it, right?”

He nods slowly. “You are so much different than I thought you’d be.”

My lips quirk up into a smile. “So you’ve said.”

“I’m serious. I can’t seem to figure you out. Just as soon as I think I’ve got all the information, Barnes or Rogers throw out some new shit or you come out of left field with something like sucking dick to stay fed.”

I burst out laughing. “I never said that I actually did that, just that it happened. But, I aim to surprise, Tony. And if I can surprise you, maybe my work here is done.”

“Oh, don’t go! We’re just getting to know each other.”

“Mmm, there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.” I shiver and wrap my arms around myself.

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “I’m just cold, is all. It happens.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Unless you want to cuddle, probably not.” I sigh and push myself up from the couch. “It may be best for me to just go curl up in bed.”

“Alright.” His eyes follow me as I pour my tea down the drain and head for the hallway. “Tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to turn up the thermostat when you get there.”

I shoot him a smile and pull my hoodie tighter around me. “Thanks, Tony. Really. For everything.”

He smiles but waves me off. “Nothing to thank me for, (Y/N), I just want you to be comfortable.”

I shake my head and turn down the hallway with a smile playing at my lips. For as much as Tony has done for his team, and even for me, he doesn’t quite seem to know when or how to give himself credit.

I shuffle into the lab around 2 pm and find Bruce and Tony hunched over a single tablet. I plop down onto a stool across from them. Neither look up.

“Morning,” Tony greets.

“It’s not morning,” I mumble. I lean on the table with my chin in my hand.

“Did you ever get warmed up last night?”

I nod. “I did, thanks. The vent is right over my bed. It was really nice.”

“I’m glad.”

“Mmm,” I hum. “What have you two been up to today?”

“We’ve been looking into your blood substitute,” Bruce answers.

“Oh?”

“We know that no one has been able to successfully do anything like this, so if it works, it could completely change the world.”

“But?”

“But there’s no way to know whether or not it would be a viable source of food for you.”

I shake my head. “Fine. If you can figure out a way to make something that can help other people, you should do that. You could change the lives of people with chronic anemia, sickle cell, dialysis patients, and millions of others. It’s worth it just for that.”

“I almost forgot you were a nurse for a moment,” Tony says.

“I’d thank you to remember that I’m more than just a vampire, Mr. Stark,” I say. I smirk when his eyes widen. "Anyway, where were you thinking of starting? I'm assuming that you're looking at artificial hemoglobin, at the very least."

Tony laughs. "Yes, actually. That's exactly what we were thinking."

"Perfect. I haven't been able to run tests myself, so I can only guess, but I believe that that is the one thing that my body metabolizes when I take in blood. On a base level, it holds the most nutritional value."

"It's a protein, so that would make sense," Bruce says. "Outside of baseline volume replacement, it's the one thing that's been hardest to reproduce for any kind of artificial blood supplement.”

I nod. “That would make sense.”

“I think we need to have a backup plan,” Tony says. “Just in case this doesn’t work out, where will you be getting blood?”

“I don’t know. Somehow I doubt it’d be as easy as crashing a bunch of Hydra parties and draining them for fun afterward.” I run my fingers over my lips as I think. “I guess I’d have to go out into the city and see if I can pull anything.”

Tony pulls a face. “If you have to.”

“Well it’s not like you guys want to be my blood bags, now do you? Mass anemia isn’t exactly ideal, especially in a team of Superheroes.” I bite my thumbnail, brows pulling together. “I’m not sure how enhanced blood would even affect me. I’m not sure it’s really something I want to experiment with.”

“Sounds like college,” Tony says.

“I know you’re trying to make a joke,” I say. “But do you have any idea what happens when you mix something like me with the biological material of someone like Doctor Banner? Hell, even Steve could be a risk.”

“She’s right, Tony,” Bruce admits. “You remember my cousin Jennifer?”

“Yeah, health problems a while back, right?”

“Yeah. I was the only one who could give her blood. Now she’s the greenest lawyer in all of New York.”

“Shit.”

“Now do you understand?” I ask. “There are too many variables, and I’m already enough of a danger as is.”

“I think you’re putting a little too much pressure on yourself there, (Y/N),” Tony says. “If you were a danger to us, you would’ve bit one of us already. Your self-control, from what I’m guessing, is off the charts. When you start sneaking around and nibbling on our necks, then I’ll consider you a danger.”

“I think you’re letting inexperience cloud your judgment.”

Tony stares at me. “What’s your hangup with this?”

“What I am, at the core, is dangerous. If there’s one misstep, I could seriously hurt someone, potentially myself if it comes down to isolation.” I shake my head. “It’s not a hangup, Tony. It’s being self-aware. I’ve seen too many good people hurt when they trust a monster.”

“You’re not a monster.”

“Hah! Cute. That’s really cute. But I’m not going to debate the definition with you, because I suspect we have very different experiences with it.”

“(Y/N),” Bruce says. “I’m sure he didn’t mean-”

“Bruce, don’t. Please. Just don’t.” I look between the two of them. “Look, if it doesn’t work for me, keep going with the project. It’ll help a lot of people.”

Bruce nods and I give a tight-lipped smile before excusing myself from the lab.

I run into Steve on the way down the hall and I just barely manage to sidestep him before crashing into him. 

“What’s the rush, (Y/N)?” he asks.

“Sorry,” I shake my head. “I need to go back to my room. Clear my head.”

He follows after me and places his hand on my shoulder. I turn to face him and he stoops to look me in the eye. “You okay?”

I sigh. “I’ll be very honest, Steve, I’m tired.”

He nods and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll walk you back.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t, but I’m gonna because I want to.”

“You gonna tell me why you were in such a hurry to get away from the lab?”

I crawl onto the bed and sit with my back against the wall. “It’s overwhelming.”

“The lab?” Steve sits in the reading chair in the corner. “It can be. I figured you’d be used to that kind of stuff, though.”

I shake my head. “Not the lab. Working with Tony.”

“Ah.”

“He’s just… a lot, y’know? And we butt heads like you wouldn’t believe. Sometimes it feels like we were made to contradict each other.”

“And other times?”

“Other times it’s like someone else takes over and it’s so easy to talk to him. Like there’s something there.” I wring my hands. “Scares the shit out of me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m practically immortal. I’m not… I don’t like attachments.”

“You’re attached to Buck ‘n’ I.”

“Neither of you have aged in the past eighty years. I’ve got more in common with you two than I do him.”

Steve shrugs. “Nothing’s happened yet.”

“Very true.” I frown. “Do I even want something to happen? And there’s no saying that he feels the same connection.”

“That’s right.”

“Who’s to say he’d want it anyway?” I laugh. “There I go, worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet. Not to mention things that would probably never happen to begin with.”

“It sounds like you’re talking yourself into and out of something,” Steve says.

“Better to do it now than later, right?” I let my head fall back against the wall and laugh. “Oh man, I’m fucked.”

Steve laughs. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never talked like this.”

“What, the cursing?”

“No, like you have a crush on someone.”

“Well, Steven, when we were last around each other we were also around a bunch of grimy, rank, disgusting soldiers and SSR officers who were either skirt chasers, or women who weren’t exactly my type. Not to mention we were in the middle of a literal war. There wasn’t time for this… this-” I gesture wildly. “Mess.”

“Not even after the war?”

“No, I was pretty focussed on staying alive and off the government's radar, not to even mention S.H.I.E.L.D.’s. It was hard enough getting away from the SSR after the war, after Peggy took over, it got harder.”

“So you’ve been on the run for the better part of seventy years.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” I sigh. “Pretty sure this is the most time I’ve had to relax since you went into the ice, and I’m certain that should be a joke because being here is anything but relaxing.”

Steve snorts. “All things considered, it’s been relatively quiet since we dragged you in.”

“I’ve noticed.” A knock sounds at the door and I sit forward to see who’s there. “Yeah?”

The door opens and Tony appears in the entryway.

“Hey,” he says.

“What’s up?” I ask.

Tony glances at Steve. “Could I talk to you alone?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Steve grins at me and I flip him off.

Steve laughs. “I’ll be going.”

Tony watches him go and turns back to me. “What was that about?”

“We were just talking.” I lean forward and pat the bed. “Have a seat, Stark.”

He plops down on the bed and braces himself with one arm. “So.”

“So…” I fold my arms. “You wanted to talk?”

“Right.” He sighs. “I want to apologize for what I said in the lab. It was insensitive and I wasn’t thinking.”

I blink slowly, surprised. “What?”

“I’m apologizing.”

I wave off his apology. “No, I heard that part, I just don’t get why. I was abrupt and ran away. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.”

“I brushed off your concern, (Y/N). And they were valid concerns.” He pauses for a moment. “I want to know more about what you are. I want to understand how we can help you, even if this little project doesn’t work out.”

“I… really?”

“What, you think I can’t recognize when I need to step back and learn something?”

“N-no, it’s just a lot of shocking content for one day is all. It’s a lot to process.”

“I get it,” he says. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. We can sort something out.”

“No, it’s fine.” I bite my thumbnail before looking Tony in the eye. “Where do you want to start?”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this installment, please leave a response or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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This fic:

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Imagine : William had an affair with his wife, and having a daughter ( The reader) , Who was taken by his wife after they divorced , now years later the reader ends up building the fnaf6 establishment and perhaps during UCN , Scraptrap and Scrap baby ( and if you feel like it , the crying child/ golden freddy/ cassidy ) looking at their name tag and finding out their related. resulting in both a reunion and them protecting the reader from the other animatronics.

“Huh..now this is interesting.” You hummed in curiosity as you looked at the monitor, seeing the roster of fifty animatronics, including Phone Guy and an 8-bit crocodile-like creature called “Old Man Consequences”.

You really didn’t know what to expect when you somehow woke up in this office. But out of curiosity, you decided to set a few animatronics to an AI of 5: Scraptrap, Scrap Baby, and Golden Freddy.

Now, of course, they weren’t simply random choices.

Many years ago, you came to the realization that your father, William, was a rotten man who murdered children and cheated on his wife, resulting in you being taken from him at a very young age.

You never got to know who Mrs. Afton was, but your mother told you that she, unlike William, was a sweet and kind person, and she had no idea she was married until it was too late.

You’ve heard about William’s other children: Elizabeth, Cassidy, and Michael, although you never got to know them personally, as they all perished due to both accidental and paranormal circumstances.

However, you have heard rumors of your father and two of your half-siblings possessing animatronics: particularly Baby and Golden Freddy. And you wondered if they were true.

So after setting their AIs up and hitting “GO”. You patiently waited for any sign of their arrival.

For a few minutes, nothing happened, with the exception of a strange green animatronic parrot flying by you, squawking as it went from one open door to the other. You didn’t think much of it and just looked at the monitor, tapping the little Fazcoins as they appeared on the screen.

“Nothing yet..” You mumbled in slight disappointment, although when you set it down and looked up, you got the surprise of your life.

Scrap Baby was sitting there in front of you, completely motionless, slouched over like she was a limp doll. Compared to the original Circus Baby, she looked less like a clown and more like a Halloween-themed animatronic, with a giant saw attached to her arm.

“Holy shit..” You then noticed the large device that mysteriously appeared on the desk, a bright orange button with a lightning bolt symbol on it.

Cautiously, you took the shock device and set it in your lap, before you gazed back at Scrap Baby.

The monitor told you that she could activate if you took your eyes off her, and not noticing when she moved could mean your end.

So you just watched her carefully, tilting your head to the side. “..E-Elizabeth..?”

There was no response. And you sighed, shrinking back in your chair as you looked at the monitor once more. Although when you put it down, you saw her sitting upright, staring directly at you.

Not only that, but Golden Freddy was also in the room, slouched against the wall.

“Umm-”

If that wasn’t enough, you then heard a violent clamoring in the side vent, the lights began flickering rapidly. But in your panic you forgot what to do and that’s when “Scraptrap” emerged from the vent.

You could immediately see how decrepit his state was, with his suit’s holes revealing several bones, veins, and muscles, along with some of his teeth.

“I always come back..” He spoke in that raspy, familiar voice, glowering at you, although upon looking at you closely, that’s when he blinked in surprise. “Hmm, why do you look...familiar?”

“Dad?” Scrap Baby looked over to see her father, gasping. “Daddy! You’re here, too?”

“Yes, Elizabeth,” he hushed, before gazing at you more intensely, eyes trailing to the name tag on your uniform. “[Y/n]..ah. Yes. I remember now. My you have grown. How have you been?”

“Could be better, could be worse.” You shrugged. “I’d ask you the same thing but..you look like you’ve seen better days.”

A raspy chuckle of amusement escaped him, along with a strangled wheeze. “Yes.” But then he noticed the pointed look you had and sighed, placing his hand on the table. “Look..you must know about everything now..but I-”

“Save it, dad.” You sneered this time. “Nothing you say now can undo all that pain you’ve caused..to your wife, to your children, and all those other people you’ve brought harm to. When my mom told me all about you, I didn’t want to believe it. But now, looking at you…I can see that you truly are a monster.”

Hurt seemed to flicker in Scraptrap’s eyes, although he knew there was nothing he could say to defend himself.

“Although…my one regret in going with her instead of you was that..I never got to meet Michael or Elizabeth or Cassidy,” you told him, sighing. “I’m sure they were kind, and..I wish I got to know my half-siblings better before they became, well..” You gestured to Scrap Baby and Golden Freddy.

However, you heard a soft sniffle and looked to see that the withered golden bear was now standing up. You smiled as you saw him waddle over to you, before he slumped beside the desk, closer to you.

“D-Dad never told me about y-you..” Cassidy’s shaky, tearful voice whispered from within the suit. “But..I-I don’t mind having another sibling.”

“Don’t start crying now,” Scrap Baby huffed, leaning over to whisper to you, “Don’t mind him, he’s always been a crybaby-”

“H-Hey, that’s not true!”

“It’s fine.” You chuckled, gently booping Golden Freddy’s nose. “It’s good to meet you Cassidy, and Elizabeth. But..where’s Michael?”

The animatronics simply glanced around the room, before they shrugged in response.

Then you saw that parrot flying into the office again, and you tapped its beak, wondering what would happen if you did that.

Almost immediately, Rockstar Foxy appeared in the office with his accordion and parrot on his shoulder. But he looked rather angry at being summoned. “Yarr! Ye play with fire an’ sometimes ye get burned!” He growled, slamming his instrument down.

However. before he could lunge at you, Scrap Baby stood up and grabbed him by the neck with her claw. “On the contrary, I think it’s you who’s playing with fire right now,” she spat. “So why don’t you and your little birdie run along?”

“..a-aye..I..I will go now. I promise.” The fox stammered, relieved when she let him go. He grabbed his accordion and scurried out of the room.

You looked at Scrap Baby, stunned. “Y-You..saved me?”

“Of course.” She turned back to you. “You’re our family. And families always stick together. Wouldn’t you agree, Cass?”

“Y-Yeah,” Golden Freddy nodded. “And..w-we’ll protect you from any other threats you might face! All my life I’ve..been so helpless, and I don’t want a-anyone else to have those feelings.”

You smiled warmly at the two, before your gaze met Scraptrap’s, that smile gradually faltering as you saw him look the other way. “Father?”

“I..know you never wish to see me again, but...I may come to your aid, when you least expect it.” He muttered. “There’s no telling when I’ll show up, or even if I show up at all. You just keep reading that little tablet of yours, child.”

And with that, he walked back to the side vent and crawled into it, disappearing within a few moments.

Scrap Baby and Golden Freddy watched him leave, before they looked back at you, seeing you sigh as you sat back in the chair, perfectly content.

Sometimes a family was a normal adult human, a boy possessing a tattered golden bear suit, a girl possessing a mangled Halloween-like clown robot, and a man whose corpse was caged in a springlock rabbit animatronic.

But you were just fine with that.