#I don’t actually have to listen to anyone at all

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I know you? Part 2

Jason Todd X Reader

Synopsis: Jason, not Red Hood, “checks” on you. Cue the shortest/ longest conversation you have had with the man.

Or in other words, is this flirting?

Notes: There is no planned plot for this if anyone can tell. Just running on vibes.

Your presumption of a long night was regrettably accurate. The annoyance of it all makes you want to chuck your alarm against the wall. But alas, being an adult mattered more and you need money, so work it is. You pray for it to be a busy day so you can forget your embarrassment from the night before.

Clocking into work makes you confident in the fact that it will be busy. You slide into your routine as a waitress at Jackie’s Books and Coffee, greeting customers and delivering drinks and pastries to them. You chat with a few of the regulars as they come in, and you listen as they yap about their lives. As you make another round, you greet another regular.

His name was Jason and that’s all you really knew. He wasn’t like many of the other customers who liked to talk about anything and everything to you. He usually only got coffee and read a book. The one time he did actually talk to you was when you mentioned you had never read a Jane Austen book. It was like that was the only thing that mattered in the world. He ranted at you for 15 minutes about it and you didn’t have the heart to step away. He was cute when he was passionate.

He sat down at his usual table and pulled out a book. You went to work with his order, he always got the same thing. You sat the cup in front of him and asked, “What’s the book for the day?”

You try to glance at the cover but find the front cover blank, a fancy hardcover. Not finding the answer there you meet his gaze to wait for his response. You're startled for a moment by the familiarity of his features. Of course, his features were familiar to you, he was a regular but there was something different this time around. A scar on his lip and his cheek-

“Dracula” your thoughts are cut off by his voice, suddenly strangely familiar too, and you focus in on the conversation.

You smile, “I actually have read that one.”

You are half tempted to add, might be better than Jane Austen, but you decided you still want to work for the next half hour. You settle on, “Hollywood definitely got that one wrong, so much for the undead being sexy.” You joke.

His laugh comes out a little startled and you’re proud of the accomplishment. He usually looks so sullen in his corner booth, although that might just be because he’s so focused on his book.

“I don’t know, Hollywood might be onto something.” He says it like it’s an inside joke, but you feel like you missed the punchline.

“Maybe,” you say with a polite laugh, “Did you want anything else?” you ask.

He shakes his head. Not a huge shocker, he never wants anything but his drink and his book.

“Just let me know if you do.” You walk away slowly as you try to push down the weird familiar feeling you’re having all of a sudden. You check in with a few customers and, with a lull in commotion you settle into a chair next to the register. Bless Jackie for having one, your feet slowly starting to ache as the end of your shift draws near. Darla, one of the other waitresses comes to stand close to you. She leans in with a conspiratory look.

“So, you get his number?” she questions, her Gothamite accent heavy. Your head whips to look at her and you almost knock noses.

“What?” you try to keep your tone neutral, but your tone pitches up. Her lips twist into a grin and you’d think it evil if you didn’t already know her. Darla was nearly 50 years old, and she reminded you of a self-proclaimed “Fun Aunt” who liked to be in on all the gossip and had no sense of personal space. She had been goading you to date someone, anyone, just so she could be all up in your business. Because according to her, you were the most boring person she’d ever met.

“The hottie, did you get his number?” she asks again as she pulls out a compact mirror to brush some fly-aways from her face.

“First of all, I still don’t know who you’re talking about.” You do but that’s neither here nor there. “Second, you can’t just call customer’s Hotties, Darla, that weird.”

She scoffs and snaps her compact closed. “All right, Scarface over there. Did you get his number?”

You practically jump at her to cover her mouth. “Darla!”

She pushes your hand away with a grin. “Don’t worry Baby doll. It makes him look hot in a rugged way.”

“Darla, I swear-“you're cut off by a throat clearing. You turn to see a college student awkwardly waiting at the register. Your face flushes and you drop your hands from Darla and through on a customer service smile.

“Hi, sorry about that. How can I help you?” You manage to stay away from Darla for the rest of your shift, checking on customers probably more than necessary.  It's 5 o’clock when your shift finally ends. You brush by Darla to clock out and she follows you.

“You gonna answer my question or not?” Ever persistent for an older woman.

“No, Darla, I did not get Jason’s number” You pointedly use his name, so she won’t use Scarface or Hottie again.

“Oh, First name basis.” She teases.

You roll your eyes and pull off your apron to hang it up. You turn and look at her.

“Goodbye Darla,” you say sweetly with a too cheesy smile. It's her turn to roll her eyes as she goes back to work. You collect your purse and jacket and head for the front door of the shop. The early fall weather not having kicked in yet, you carry your jacket on your arm. Focused on pulling your purse over your head, you nearly run into a mass.

“Oh Sorry,” you say as you take a step back.

“No, you’re okay. I shouldn’t have bullied my way in front of you.” A deep voice speaks. You look up and meet blue-green eyes. Jason.

“I hardly think someone so passionate about Jane Austen could do any Bullying” You see Jason flush a little at the comment but don’t say anything. He holds the front door open for you. You thank him as you hurriedly shuffle through the open door. He follows you out onto the warm sidewalk. Assuming your conversation is done you head down the sidewalk with your arms crossed in front of you holding your jacket. As you walk you become very conscious of the man next to you. You glance at him curiously but don’t comment.

You take your time walking with him silently. You're not in a rush to get home, darkness still a few hours away. You should be worried. You’re not though. Jason has never struck you as a bad guy. Call it energy or vibe or what have you (ranting about Jane Austen). He just wasn’t bad. Intimidating? Yes, but not bad. As you walk you give some subtle side glances. He was very… Large. You didn’t know how else to describe him. Nearly a whole head taller than you and muscular. Yeah, he could definitely pick you up and carry you. You flush, not that that mattered. Your eyes get drawn back to his face. You know those scars; you swear up and down that it's not just because he’s a regular. They’ve never stuck out to you like this, and you can’t figure out why. In your (not so) subtle side-eye, you meet his gaze. He’s already smiling at you, but you don’t linger on it dropping your gaze to the concrete.

“Heading home?” He asks, tilting his head toward you.

You look up to meet his gaze, intense in the stare and unsure if he's just like that or dissecting you. This is the longest amount of time you’ve spent actually near him without tending to customers.

“Uh, yeah?” you ask yourself. Of course, you're going home; where else would you go? But why would you tell him that? You don’t think Jason would do anything bad to you; he is still, at most, an acquaintance, and you don’t really know him. (Not that it matters considering you let a literal stranger into your home the night before.) If he senses your hesitation and worry, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I wish I was.” He admits but quickly adds on, “Going to my home, not yours. That would be weird, I don’t really know you.” His voice drops quieter as he trails off. He rubs at the back of his neck, a light flush on his cheeks. The man in a flustered state must give you some courage.

“Yeah, that would be weird,” you tease, “Although maybe not a bad thing.” You quiet for a moment and think is this good flirting?

“If you're not going home, then where are you going?” You ask both curious about the answer and if it’ll explain why he's still walking with you.

His flush darkens and he mumbles for a moment and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Leather Jacket…

“Family required dinner,” he says it like it’s the worst thing in the entire world, sitting next to nuclear weapons and climate change.

“That sounds fun” You try to keep a neutral tone because a family dinner does sound fun, to you, but he, apparently, thinks otherwise.

“Oh, loads of it,” he says with a scowl.

You decide a variety of things at that moment. First, he was unfairly attractive. Scowling should not look that good. Second, you want to stop him from scowling, a sadness sitting just behind his eyes. Thirdly, Darla was, unfortunately, correct. You should get this guy's number.

“at least tell me there's dessert.” You ask teasingly. Your inquiry is enough to chase away the scowl and you smile at the fact.

“Only the best homemade cookies in existence” he responds with a smile.

“At least there's something good.” You slow your walk as you come to the corner where your apartment building sits. You don’t want to give away that you live here, but you don’t want to start wandering around the streets of Gotham with him either. As it turns out, your overthinking is unnecessary.

“This is me.” He states as he walks to a parked motorcycle right in front of the building. You can't help but stare.

“Will you make it home safe all alone?” he asks like he already knows the answer. It takes you a moment to answer, distracted as he pulls a helmet out of the back seat of the bike, preparing to put it on. The leather made more sense now.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, it'll be no problem. I don’t live far.” You gesture further down the street, where you definitely did not live. He nods and smiles knowingly as he slips the helmet on.

“Okay see you later, sweetheart.” He says as he slings a leg over the bike, starting. You stare, again, at the denim of his jeans stretching over his legs nicely. He gives you a wave before taking off down the street, turning a corner. You stand and stare at the spot he had just been for much longer than you should have. You let a quiet “Bye” leave your lips despite him being long gone.

You finally turn around to your apartment building. How convenient that was. You pet one of the stray cats that sit on the steps as you climb them and enter the building, thinking Am I missing something?

Other Note: Thank you for all the love for the first part. It inspired me to keep going. I hope this makes some kind of sense.

[transformers-spike]

hey! been reading all your stuff and absolutely love what you do. i got an idea regarding team prime having their first christmas party at the base (june insisted), and they’re each introduced to the concept of kissing under mistletoe

I'm going for something where the reader is already in a relationship with the bot of choice. It's mostly just cute interactions with a hint of spice mid post.

Optimus takes it rather well considering… everything. He’s got a team to lead, a dead planet on his conscience and a homoerotic rivalry with his ex-best friend/murderous dictator who’s obsessed with him. Life could be a lot better right now. But it also could be a lot worse. He’s content watching from the sidelines as his fellow Autobots enjoy a new part of Earth culture. Don’t mind him, he’ll join in once his work is done. For now the best he can do is flash you an encouraging smile as you fail to string out the Christmas lights for the fifth time in a row – you can do it, he believes in you. He tries his best to seem oblivious when you climb the ladder June is holding still (the ultimate wingwoman), keeping a close optic behind the terminal just in case things go south and he has to catch you. When you call his name with the goofiest smile on your face, he beams at you, equal parts pride and cute aggression. “Hey,” you drawl, doing your best to seem as charming as possible while holding on for dear life on the only thing stopping you from plummeting to the ground. “So there’s this Christmas tradition you may not have heard about…” He attentively listens to the explanation, nodding his helm and faking surprise when he hears what mistletoes entail. His spark stutters in his chassis when you ask him, sheepishly averting your gaze, if he’d like to partake in this human tradition. He graciously accepts, hovering a servo over your frame (in case you stumble back in shock) and leans in for you to initiate the kiss. Yes, Miko told him. Yes, she ruined the surprise. No, he won’t tell you because he’s never seen you happier getting to kiss him.

Ratchet is unimpressed. At least that’s what he wants you to believe. He’s so invested in decorating he spends every minute off work painstakingly stringing obnoxiously bright garlands around the railings and holding the kids in his servos to reach the highest branches of the gigantic and possibly illegally uprooted Christmas tree. He’s complaining about the time he will waste taking down the decorations, but everyone in the base knows damn well he’s going to keep them on as long as he can. You don’t even have to bring up the mistletoe, he’s overheard enough from the crappy Holiday-themed movies the kids have been watching to secretly crank up the charm while scoffing on the outside. You’re watching the kids place the final touches on the tree, a mug of eggnog in one hand while helping yourself to some Santa-shaped sugar cookies. You barely notice Ratchet leaning in with a minuscule strand of mistletoe between his massive digits. It takes a moment for you to understand, what with the plant being nigh invisible in his servo. Finally, you swallow thickly and stand on your tippy toes (on the couch no less) to reach his intake. The kiss is the longest he’s ever experienced up until now, and while he has the kissing abilities of a dying fish, he melts into it while you forget how to breathe.

Bulkhead is clearly enjoying himself, watching bad Christmas dramas with the kids, trying to figure out how to remix old carols with Miko adding a rock (and occasionally death metal) twist. It’s simultaneously the funniest and most mind-boggling Holiday celebration anyone has ever experienced, add Wheeljack into the mix and now Ratchet is watching these two like a hawk in case they roughhouse too much and crush the Christmas tree. Miko would actually love to see that, and you and Bulkhead both have to be the responsible adults of the situation and try to keep the damage at a minimum while Wheeljack acts like the world’s worst influence on a teenager. By Primus, Bulkhead is actually tempted to join it, and now you have to reel in two grown adult mechs eons your senior and one 15 year old girl. Primus save you. And yet, beyond all expectations, said 15 year old girl is your wingwoman for the evening, which is simultaneously humiliating and a godsend. When she pulls out the plastic mistletoe from her pocket and holds it over you and Bulkhead’s heads from her vantage point on his neck, a move she’s been planning months in advance, your soul exits your body. The staring contest between you and her robot dad breaks only when Miko urges you to do something at least. The kiss is short and sweet, Bulkhead is screaming inside during the whole ordeal no matter how brief, hoping to Primus he didn’t somehow kiss you so badly during a five second interval you’re willing to break up with him. Nah, you’re blushing so intensely June thinks you’re about to have an aneurysm.

Wheeljack is a menace, and it’s entirely your fault. Mentioning the tradition wasn’t supposed to end up like this, but alas, horny dumbassery always leads to worst case scenarios. Bulkhead told you to go for it, meaning well with his encouragement but sealing your fate for the next 24 hours. Ratchet asked you if you were out of your mind, the voice of reason and simultaneously the bitchiest best friend you could ask for, telling you loud and clear if anything happened it would be on your conscience alone. June put a hand on your shoulder and (half) jokingly said she would ask to be assigned to your hospital room. Truly, you have the will to live of a hamster doing its hardest to die a horribly gruesome death and reach hamsterhallah. What a genius you are. Wheeljack wasted no time getting you under the mistletoe Bulkhead helped string up, and maybe you envisioned it differently when he narrowly bruised your lips going in for the kiss. You tried to keep the sloppy makeout session brief, but from the way Bulkhead was shielding the kids behind not one but two giant servos, you might have overdone it. What you especially did not expect, however, was waking up in the Jackhammer’s passenger seat with the worst migraine of your life and dry transfluid slathered all over your crotch. Now, trying to recall the events of last night with the worst eggnog hangover you’ve ever experienced, you can only wait for Wheeljack to awaken from recharge in the pilot’s seat. You note the traces of transfluid on his lips, and your eyes trail down to your suspiciously bluish hand. Did you fist Wheeljack on Christmas Eve?

Bumblebee is having the time of his life. You got Raf (and his Autobot guardian) some discount Christmas-themed games from the only offbrand Gamestop in all of Jasper as an early present. You watch with rapt amusement as they laugh at the frankly abysmal coding and game design, enjoying themselves to the fullest despite the sub-optimal gameplay, but you almost choke on your spit when Raf actually starts analyzing the code for the game and applying level-breaking cheats in a matter of minutes. Cheesus Christ, that kid can hack into the Pentagon at this point. You move in front of Agent Fowler’s line of sight to stop him from seeing just what kind of threat to national security Raf can become. As the day nearly comes to an end and you’re half sure Jack is scrutinizing Ratchet who’s flirting with his mom who’s tucking her hair behind her ear in the single mom sign for “I will fuck this alien robot”; you beckon Bumblebee closer and hold out the mistletoe over your head and his uh… forehead. You kiss him slowly, holding onto the railing as he leans his face into your lips, beeping happily. Little do you know, Miko saw it and now she’s going to hold out a mistletoe over your heads for the next 5 hours until your mouth grows numb from kissing him. He looks so damn happy whenever he notices the mistletoe, you can’t say no to him, not when Dadimus Prime is watching from the other corner of the room.

Arcee is ahead of schedule. She knows what you’re going to do, and she’s already planning to one up you. Yes, she’s been especially busy giving the kids a lift to put up the final ornaments on the tree in spite of her initial protests, but now you’re fiddling with your fingers stealing occasional glances like you’re desperately hyping yourself up for what’s to come. You have no idea what you’re doing to her looking so shy and cute. She could just eat you up. You’re unsure when you go up to her, Christmas fun fact on your lips and sweating bullets just thinking about what you’re going to do - and your jaw drops down to the Earth’s core when she gingerly holds a strand of mistletoe over your heads. She wishes she could capture your expression and lock it inside her spark. When you kiss, it’s deep and longing, filled with a need to give yourself up completely in spite of being so finite next to her. And she welcomes it, all of it, taking your eagerness and savoring every minute with you. When you pull away heaving for breath, your hair’s a mess and you’re redder than Cliffjumper’s plating. Your eyes twinkle when you look at her, equal parts love and desperation to surrender yourself to her with all the trust in the world. She will protect you until the day she offlines.

[elvensorceress]

sunday sentences

@spotsandsocks @chaosandwolves @livinginsunnyhell @rainbow-nerdss @eddiebabygirldiaz @tizniz @bekkachaos @thelikesofus @hippolotamus @rainbow-nerdss @sofa-king-lame @ronordmann @sazanahashi @kejfeblintz @evaneds 💕 tagging anyone who wants to share something no pressure 💕

The last stop before Eddie goes to wait out his remaining hours in LA in his dark, empty house, is his tía’s. 

She meets him in the driveway and hugs him tightly. Too tightly. The way she used to when he was much younger. When everything was overwhelming, lonely, horrible, but he was devoutly holding it in, and Pepa would know he was breaking. She somehow always knew. She’d hug him like she wanted to lift the weight he was carrying and keep it from killing him.

She would cradle Eddie in her arms and tell him it was okay and that he wasn’t bad, he hadn’t failed, he has a good heart and he should have patience, kindness, forgiveness given to him. 

As long as he was in her arms, he wasn’t being crushed and wasn’t alone. And then he’d cry because she told him he could, that it was okay. Then it would feel a little better. 

Who would be able to listen to her reassurance and validation and not cry? Even now, it makes him want to crumble and burst into tears when they hug like this. The feeling is still there, the urge to just let go and break and sob until he’s empty and can’t any more. But he doesn’t.

He got too numb, too old, too jaded for even her words and affection to reach him. It was too hard to believe. They were just faded platitudes. His sins grew to be too great.

This isn’t the same. He’s not punishing himself. He needs to earn happiness. He needs to earn his son back in his life. This is Eddie’s choice. He doesn’t have to do this but he wants to do this so he is doing it. It won’t make everything better, but he’ll have Chris. 

He’s too hollow and numb right now to feel anything else. 

Pepa takes his chin in her hand. “Don’t let them tell you you are anything less than a good father. A wonderful, most selfless father. Don’t you tell yourself that either.” 

Eddie tries to smile genuinely for her. It’s sweet that she believes that and tells him as much. But he’s not sure can ever believe it. He changes the subject instead. “Can you do something for me?” 

“Anything, mijo. What is it?”

The word, the endearment makes his chest tight. He wishes, wishes his aunt could have been his mother. He wishes he could have had a mother who actually felt like a mother to him. Someone who at least attempts to not think the worst of him. “Will you—” He can’t say it. He can’t think it. But he has to. This is his choice. He’ll be happy. Eventually. He needs to be with Chris. He can’t miss out on Chris’ life. “Will you,” Eddie tries again. He just has to get the words out. They’re just words. 

But they make it real. Is that the problem? Is that why they’re so difficult?

He doesn’t even know why he’s asking. Why it feels like he needs to. Other than he knows Pepa and knows she’ll be able to look and reach and connect where other people can’t. Maybe because he knows she’ll be missing Eddie more than most people. Hopefully anyway? And she’ll know what it’s like. She’ll know what to say and how to comfort. She always does. 

Eddie hopes. That’s all he can really do. Hope. 

“Will you look out for Buck?” He finally says. Finally asks. “For me? He’s been. Baking. He likes baking and I’ve been assisting. And I don’t know— I don’t know what he’ll do. How he’ll do. Without. Assistance. He needs someone. He needs—”

He needs someone who loves him unconditionally. Everyone leaves him and Eddie has to leave him and he wasn’t supposed to leave him. They were supposed to be— God, he doesn’t know what they were supposed to be but it’s something. In each other’s lives forever? That at least? 

“I don’t know what he’ll do without me. Not— not me specifically. But without someone like me? Who looks out for him. And you always did that for me. Made me feel better. Loved me no matter what. And he— he needs that, too. I don’t know what he’ll do without that. I don’t know what I’ll…” 

I don’t know what I’ll do without him.

[sweetkpopmusings]

dokyeom best friend headcanons <3

a/n: back at it again (finally) with best friend seventeen !!! one day i will finish all of these hcs and the boyfriend ones too.....until that day, please enjoy hundreds of words that represent my love for sweet dokyeom!!!

content: fluff | wc: 0.9k | warnings: none! | pairing: bestfriend!dokyeom x gn!reader | requests:open

dokyeom is sunshine personified which means he is literally the best friend anyone can ask for

like hello ??? a happiness virus by your side at all times ??? an angel being just a quick text or phone call away ??? a dream come true if you ask me 

he is a very sweet, casual best friend

he is so thoughtful, and he’s always checking up on you

but it’s not through grand gestures or cinematic speeches

he will text you during the day to see how you’re doing, remind you to drink water, or even ask about your chores (and if he can come over and “help” aka distract you lol)

dokyeom just cares so much about you :-( like you’re his BESTIE and he refuses to accept you having anything other than a perfect day every day

which means he is the absolute best source of comfort

he will always be a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear

and he comforts you in the ways that you respond to best

want advice? he’ll stay up for hours talking through all the possible solutions with you. want to vent? he will listen intently and validate every single feeling you have. want to forget about the world for a while? he’s taking you out to do your favorite activities or staying in with you and binging your favorite content to escape from the stresses of reality

dokyeom isn’t afraid to ask how he can support you best either like he’s always working to be the best friend he can be

and he is HONORED every time you support him

sweet baby actually cries whenever you’re there for him like he is so so grateful 

he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have an amazing person like you as his closest friend

usually while you’re comforting him he’ll thank you profusely, cry, laugh at the fact he’s crying over how much he loves you YET again, and smile like everything is fixed

everything IS fixed when you’re by his side actually <333 dokyeom tells you this constantly and he means it.

okay back to him being literal sunshine because im getting emotional lolol

dokyeom laughs at EVERY. SINGLE. JOKE. YOU. MAKE.

like even if it's not that funny, he finds you trying to be funny so hilarious that he's giving you no less than a hearty chuckle for every joke or joke-adjacent thing you say

if you say something particularly funny, he is throwing himself onto the nearest surface (which could very well be you, if you're standing/sitting near each other) and cackling while smacking his hand down repeatedly because he just can't take The Comedy

deadass you're his favorite comedian 

and he LOVES to do bits with you!!!

y'all have a whole repertoire to pull out at any moment that calls for it or whenever you're in the mood

lowkey hoshi gets jealous but it’s fine because you and dokyeom let him in on the bits sometimes 

obviously he is THRILLED any time you laugh at one of his jokes

which is constantly because hello ?? he is a strange and silly boy like you are entertained 25/8

sometimes you two have to ditch your plans entirely because you get so caught up in joking around with each other you lose track of time

these are dokyeom’s favorite hangouts <33 he LOVES being in your own world together :,,,-)

lowkey he gets jealous if you spend a lot of time with any of his members

it’s not super serious, but he definitely pouts

that’s MY y/n !!! they’re MY best friend !!! not YOURS !!!

it’s so endearing because he’s like a little kid who doesn’t want his friend playing with anyone else on the playground

he becomes the most excited puppy when you pay attention to him again though

the members tease him for this behavior but he just reminds them they don’t get it because you’re not their best friend >:-)

talk about a hype man

dokyeom is 1384302094503% dedicated to making you feel confident

he thinks you are incredible inside and out and he will not accept it if you don’t agree

whether he needs to buy you an entirely new wardrobe or script a full presentation on why you are the best person ever, dokyeom is Locked In on the loving y/n agenda 

your reputation absolutely precedes you whenever you meet someone from dokyeom’s life

they know all about you and are immediately obsessed with you because of everything dokyeom has told them

dokyeom will be by your side, smiling brightly, relishing in how much they already love you

he’ll even suggest stories for you to tell when you’re having conversations in a group because he knows how to highlight your best moments

honestly he would totally have a stan account for you and make “y/n funniest moments” compilations and things of that nature

he’s your #1 fangirl and he takes that role VERY seriously

why ?? because one of the proudest achievements in dokyeom’s life is being your best friend :,-) <333333

UGH i love dokyeom so much he is the sweetest boy ever and i need to look at pictures of his beautiful smile and cry because i’m so grateful to be in the world at the same time as him <3333

dokyeom if you’re taking applications for additional friends please let me know i’m eager to take advantage of this exciting opportunity

[black-cat-luck]

Would you be able to do how the kids react when Bruce is hurt really badly

yes!! I love this :]

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

Dick

𖥔 He panics. He’s the strong one, he tries to remain level headed to keep everyone else calm and so they don’t send themselves into a panic attack, he is always calm and collected in stressful situations.

𖥔 But oh god that’s a lot of blood. In this moment he isn’t actually sure what happened, he doesn’t even remember who they’re fighting, where they are. A pained cry escapes his throat as his hands press over the bleeding wound in Bruce’s chest. He hears yelling, the others trying to get him and Bruce somewhere safe, trying to get Dick to tell them how bad the injury is, what can they do?

𖥔 “I-I don’t know!” Dick cries, every second of training, every hour spent learning how to stay calm under stress, stay levelheaded, assess the dangers around you first and never let your guard down, it’s all left him. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, because Bruce isn’t breathing, Bruce is bleeding out in his arms.

𖥔 Thankfully for Dicks sake, this was a league mission, so he doesn’t have to be the collected one. Superman is able to get both of them out of danger, he speaks close to Dicks ear, not because the boy is listening, but because the comms are on and Alfred is already readying the batcave for their arrival.

𖥔 Bruce makes a perfectly fine recovery, and Dick is mortified by how he reacted. He knows Bruce will be disappointed, he knows he will be shamed for letting himself be so weak, risking not only his own life, but Bruce’s by leaving them vulnerable in the battle field. Instead Bruce sets his hand on Dicks head, ruffling his hair softly, before his expression becomes serious, hand gently holding his cheek. “I’m here Chum, you don’t have to be embarrassed for being scared. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He says, and Dick cries again, laughing wetly. “You nearly died and you’re apologizing to me?” He asks, it sounds ridiculous. “Yeah, cause I know I would’ve been the same if it were you.” Bruce says it effortlessly, and Dick leans over, hugging him, careful of the healing wound. They’ve both lost too much to be able to lose each other, and that’s what’s the scariest, that they wouldn’t be able to survive losing anyone else, and they can’t promise they won’t. Dick just has to remain strong, and make sure he always has Bruce’s back so this never happens again.

Jason

𖥔 Jason’s anger has always been his strong suit. He was the happy Robin, the cheerful little boy that bounced on his feet and laughed and joked even in dire situations, and that was his weakness. He would’ve been inconsolable if he had Bruce not breathing at his feet like he does right now.

𖥔 But now Jason is angry. He would never admit it in a vicinity Bruce can hear, but how dare they try and take his dad from him? It’s easy for him to let his anger take control, to be violent and bloody because Bruce can’t see him murdering right now because he himself was just almost murdered. It’s not an almost yet, he hasn’t taken a breath in three minutes. Jason can hear it all, through his own blood rushing through his ears, he hears the others talking; he wants to tune it out, he wants to ignore it but he needs to know when Bruce is okay, when he breathes again.

𖥔 Fuck Jason hates the guy, he can’t stand to even look at him but he’s fighting back the sick rising up his throat as he hears his own thoughts. What if this is it? Bruce can’t come back from this. It’s over. The last thing Jason ever said to him is I hate you.

𖥔 Jason finds the man that stopped Bruce’s heart, and screams in anguish as he tackles him to the ground. His guns are thrown aside, his mask is yanked off his head because he’s killing this man. Not a bullet, not Red Hood, Jason Todd is killing this man. He didn’t kill Batman, he killed Jason’s father. His hands shake violently as they squeeze at his throat. He can’t hear the commotion anymore, he can’t hear anyone’s words, his eyes shine green as tears fall past them.

𖥔 I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. He’ll never be able to take it back. He’ll never get to apologize, to mend what was broken, to forgive Bruce and get to be his son again. He’s just a weapon, he’s just a solider, he’s a murderer. The man’s neck snaps underneath his hands as Bruce takes in his first gasp of air.

𖥔 Jason slowly stumbles to his feet, shaking as he faces the others, there’s looks of disgust, of horror, of understanding. Bruce is struggling to his feet, looking at Jason, even with his cowl on Jason knows he’s afraid, he’s confused, worried.

𖥔 “Let’s get home Bat, you need rest.” Jason wraps Bruce’s arm around his shoulder, dragging him along. Batman doesn’t utter a word, nobody does. Jason slams the door to the Batmobile shut, bloody knuckles going white from how he grips the steering wheel. He swerves recklessly, he’s crying, his hands are shaking, he can’t breathe and he’s terrified, all of his adrenaline crashing as he swallows back sobs. He can’t forgive Bruce, he’s tried to kill him himself, why was it any different now? “Thank you, Jason. I love you son.” Bruce rasps, and that’s why. Jason can’t move on because Bruce is right next to him; and he’s alive, and breathing, and Jason is his son.

Tim

𖥔 Tim is scary. He’s seen Bruce worse than anyone ever has. He’s been through it all, he dragged Bruce up from the ground, all while Bruce clawed at him and tried to stay buried. Tim is scary when Bruce is nearly killed, because he will stop at nothing to make it right.

𖥔 Bruce is put into a coma. To the media it was a car accident. To Tim, it was watching Bane snap Bruce’s body over his leg, breaking his spine; nearly killing him. Tim was on auto pilot after it happened, quickly assessing the damage, demanding Oracle to send help, to Nightwing and Red Hood to stage an accident, they need civilian clothes, Bruce Wayne needs immediate medical attention.

𖥔 Tim Drake-Wayne sits in the hospital room, watching Bruce only able to breath because of the machines he’s connected to, body stiff, bruised and cut up, a small incision in his skull to let out the swelling. A medically induced coma to save his life. They’re not even sure if it will save him; time will only tell.

𖥔 Nightwing says he’ll handle it, he’ll get Bane dealt with. Red Hood makes it clear he’ll be killing him now that Bruce can’t stop him. When Dick and Jason visit the hospital room Tim is already gone. Tim has already set his own plan into motion.

𖥔 Robin doesn’t kill because Batman doesn’t allow it, and because Tim fears it would push him over an edge he doesn’t want to face. Tim does not directly kill. Bane’s henchmen and goons are simply in the building when Tim watches it explode from a rooftop a safe distance away.

𖥔 Tim watches as car bombs, and traps that end in blood splatter are tripped, as men stagger into deaths they could’ve easily avoided, I mean really how are these people working for Bane and falling into their own deaths so easily?

𖥔 Over the course of a week they’re all ticked off, like a grocery list. Tim moves quietly, effortlessly. He’s already gone by the time anyone thinks to look. He’s never seen by the time anyone tries to make a guess on who it might be. When Bane is the only one left Tim is reaching his breaking point. It’s been seven days, seven days his father has been comatose, teetering dangerously close to brain dead, to never waking up. Tim sees Bane and his reserves from before are slowly slipping away. He’s never been this angry before.

𖥔 Nobody would believe a witness that says Robin shot Bane point blank and disappeared. Nobody would listen to a bystander that was high off his mind when he swears he heard the kid scream that his father might never recover and it’s all his fault, before spraying the wall with brain matter. Nobody believes Robin would ever do something like that because he’s just an innocent little boy, Batman doesn’t kill, where would he even get a gun?

𖥔 On the ninth day Bruce wakes up, and Tim is beside him, he doesn’t let anyone see him cry, so he only smiles and hugs him; whispering how grateful he is that he’s okay. They call a nurse in, Bruce is groggy but coherent, there’s no damage, no risk.

𖥔 Dick arrives exhausted, having been patrolling as Batman to keep Gotham from being suspicious. He’s still got a smidge of eyeliner not fully wiped off when he hugs Bruce, eyes studying where Tim sits, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket. He smiles innocently and Dick nods. Tim knows Dick is aware of what he’d done. Tim doesn’t mind that Dick knows, because Tim knows Dick won’t tell anyone, because Tim doesn’t regret what he’s done, and he will do it again if he is pushed to that point.

Damian

𖥔 Damian is never one to be perceived as weak. He will not allow anyone to even think he could ever be weak, he is never weak. Ever. He doesn’t show emotions, he isn’t just some kid. He is a trained assassin, he is stronger than anyone that could challenge him. He is the son of the Bat. He is Robin.

𖥔 Damian’s pride gets the best of him sometimes. It was a simple mission, sure Batman is bleeding but he’s walking it off, telling Damian it’s just a flesh wound, he’ll be fine. They don’t have the Batmobile tonight, and when Bruce reaches to call for it, he falls.

𖥔 Damian is immediately racing to his side. He tries to catch him but he’s too late, and it’s probably for the best because Damian forgets how small he is, and how heavy not only his father is, but the extra hundred pounds of armor in his suit. Damian struggles to push Bruce onto his back, panting as he overlooks him.

𖥔 “Father! Where is your wound?!�� Damian shouts. Bruce makes a choked noise as blood drips past his lips. Damian remembers him clutching a side, but he doesn’t know which one, he doesn’t know much right now, his heart is racing, his hands are shaking, and he finally yanks the cape back to see the blood pouring from Bruce’s side. “It probably hit a kidney father why would you insist on it being a flesh wound, do you have any idea how bad this could’ve been if you’d left it??” Damian is still yelling, despite Bruce being unconscious.

𖥔 Damian tears at their emergency gauze with his teeth, he’s applying pressure to the wound, but it’s getting slippery and he stumbles, he’s patched up wounds before, why is this one different? Why won’t the blood stop? Why is he alone with Bruce getting paler and paler with each passing second?

𖥔 Damian is not weak, he does not need help, but he is scared. The blood is not stopping, the gauze isn’t working, Bruce is not responsive. Damian stares at his bloody hands as he starts to panic, hyperventilating as he searches for his emergency beacon, for his comm, for anything. His hands are slipping, he’s covered in blood, he can’t breathe.

𖥔 “Robin I’ve received your signal what’s wrong?” Red Hood’s voice through his ear makes the tears finally fall, and Damian gasps for air. He hears other voices chiming in, everyone live on the comms, and everyone hears him crying.

𖥔 “Robin, deep breath, give us a report.” Nightwing says, they want him to breathe, but they need to know why he can’t in the first place. “Batman is down. I cannot stop the bleeding, I cannot move him on my own. I need immediate help, he is unconscious, and getting critical.” He manages out, throat rough as he tries to swallow, as he stares down at his father as the blood begins to pool to his knees.

𖥔 “I’ve sent his location, Red Robin and Red Hood are the closest. Robin they will be there in three minutes, I’ll help as I can, what happened?” Oracle asks, and Damian takes a shaky breath, relief and guilt overwhelming him, but he hears Nightwing’s voice encouraging him to breathe; and he follows his instructions.

𖥔 Damian tells her everything that happened, what rooftop they’re on, what he did to try and stop the bleeding. While he’s still steadying his breathing with Nightwing Red Hood arrives. As Jason is putting pressure on the wound and instructing Damian to grab gauze, Red Robin arrives, and Tim quickly takes over, leaving Damian sitting and watching as they patch him up in seconds, and Jason is able to lift him up and carry him effortlessly by himself. Red Robin knows him and Robin are not the closest, but Damian is still shaking, and Tim wraps his arm around him and carefully leads him down to where the Batmobile has pulled up. Damian doesn’t speak a word, and the drive is silent once it’s announced over the comms that Batman is secure and inbound to the cave.

𖥔 Damian doesn’t leave his room. He’s embarrassed, ashamed, upset. He was too weak, too defenseless. Bruce lost a lot of blood, if they were any later he might have not made it. Jason was strong enough to lift him, Tim was fast enough to stop the bleeding and wrap him up, all things Damian failed to do in ample time. Even when Alfred notifies Damian that Bruce is awake and well, and would like to see him, Damian does not leave his room.

𖥔 The others give him space, so he’s especially angry when his door creaks open. He looks up with a sharp glare, only for his expression to immediately fall when he sees Bruce slowly limp inside. He’s shirtless and wearing more gauze than skin, holding his side as he carefully steps inside. “Father what are you doing you are on bed rest!” Damian hisses, rushing to his side, he holds one of Bruce’s hands and gently leads him to his own bed; sitting him down. “You wouldn’t come to me.” Bruce smiles as Damian glares again. “I would have, I’ve been busy.” The boy huffs, walking away to distract himself, to not have to see Bruce. He keeps his back to him and pretends to shuffle through papers on his desk. “You know I once fell on Dick when he was Robin?” He suddenly says, making Damian freeze, not responding.

𖥔 “Poor little guy was smaller than you, damn near squished him like a bug. It’s not often Batman falls, but I had a rule with every Robin, if I do, step out of the way. If I’m down, call for help. I would never expect one of you to be able to gather me up on your own.” Bruce hums, and the backs of Damian’s eyes sting as he listens. “I’m sorry for worrying you, and I’m sorry you were alone.” Bruce adds, and Damian faces him, using anger to mask the tears welling in his eyes. “I’m Robin, I’m Batman’s partner, I need to be stronger, I need to be able to be alone.” He sneers, he’s only angry at himself, but he needs to get it out; and he needs to tell it to Bruce, he needs to prove he’s not weak. “You’re also my son. And eleven years old. You cannot be expected to carry a full grown man that’s bleeding out, nine miles on your own. I wouldn’t expect that of any Robin-“ “Todd and Drake seemed to be able to do it perfectly fine.” He spits, his jealously finally mixing in.

𖥔 “Neither of whom are Robin anymore. Jason who’s taller and bigger than me? Tim who’s seven years older than you? They wouldn’t have been able to do it when they were Robin either. It is not a weakness of yours, it is not a weakness of your age, it is simply that you are a boy, and you cannot lift a grown man, I couldn’t lift myself at your age.” He says, laughing as Damian swallows thickly, still not accepting it. Bruce extends his hand, and Damian takes a few steps closer, still looking anywhere but at his father. “You are not weak my son, you should not be disappointed by last night, you were able to call for help when you needed it, you saved me. I couldn’t be more proud.” He says; pulling Damian into an unwilling hug. The boy is stiff, but doesn’t move out of fear of hurting him.

𖥔 “I will be stronger next time.” He whispers; and Bruce hums, kissing the side of his head. “You will be. I will too. You are the son of Batman, hold your head high, you are not weak.” Bruce whispers, and it’s the most comforting thing he can offer Damian, speaking to him the way he knows he needs to hear. Damian will be stronger, Damian won’t let himself lose his father.

Barbara

𖥔 Babs strong suit was being behind a screen. It was what she was best at, better than anything. She loved it, she loved helping people, making a difference, getting to see it all unfold and see people saved again, and again. She held her title as Oracle with pride. Batman wouldn’t be nearly as successful as he is every mission without her. Well, he might be able to be successful, but it wouldn’t be as fast if Babs wasn’t behind him already getting it all done before he has the time to even ask. She prides herself in being a needed ally, more than just a side player that helps occasionally. Batman often offered her the same encouragements, and acknowledges her hard work, and how much she helps them all.

𖥔 It was supposed to be a quiet patrol. Bruce is by himself tonight, Damian is sleeping, Tim is with the titans, Dick is in Blüdhaven, and she’s casually finishing some case files while Bruce sits and watches the city, both of them enjoying the quiet night.

𖥔 Barbara is scared into focus by the sound of an explosion. “Bats??” She asks, quickly typing away, pulling up his footage, and zeroing in on whats in front of him. Bruce moves like he’s injured, a villain attacks him. They’re wearing a mask, she can’t tell who it is. She pulls up the nearby cameras, watching the fight from all angles. She finds where he came from, running the plates and all information on the car, but it reports stolen, and the villain doesn’t match the description as the little old lady that registered it.

𖥔 “Bats talk to me who are these guys?” She calls, pulling up everything she can, Batman hasn’t said a word, and she knows he’s injured, she sees him lose his balance, she hears the scuffle, the back and forth, and then everything goes dark. Every last camera and screen is black. “Bat!” She shouts, trying to pull it all back up. It’s not her system, everything else is working fine, but those few cameras she needs, her comm with Batman, all of it is dark.

𖥔 She stares forward in shock, what the hell happened? She tries not to panic over losing Bruce, assuring herself it’s just some alleyway goon that Bruce will have handled in minutes, so she tries to dive into who this is. She runs everything, vocal recognition, pulling up the neighboring cameras to search for who this is, where they came from, how they snuck up on Batman.

𖥔 Everything leads to a dead end. Barbara curses and slams her hands on the desk, anger overcoming her as her heart starts to beat faster. Why has Bruce still not told her he’s okay? Why hasn’t he fixed the comm, or found a way to send her a signal. Everything’s okay, bad guys apprehended, I’m fine. Where was her reassurance? Batman never goes dark like this, and the fact that everything is turned off from her is terrifying.

𖥔 She pulls up any possible lead she has, anything that could connect her to this, anything they could use. She thinks she’s finally found something when a camera pulls back up; and she gasps, Batman is laying on the floor, not moving, blood underneath him. Then the camera goes black again. Her whole screen is black and she can see her reflection in it, staring in her own eyes. Her hair is down, and the dark of the screen hides her features from her view, and she cries. If she was Batgirl she could help Bruce, she wouldn’t be here defenseless, grasping at straws as Bruce lays at a villains mercy. She doesn’t know if he’s even still alive, if he’s still breathing, she’s just sitting here while Bruce suffers.

𖥔 Barbara has never felt less than the others just because she worked from the safety of the watch tower, she never felt like she wasn’t as vital to them, to helping. But now she does. She’s scared, she’s angry, why can’t she just help him.

𖥔 “Oracle?” Jason’s voice echoes over the comms, and she sighs shakily. “Bat is down, I’ve lost all communication, and all nearby cameras went dark. I’ve just sent you his address, can you get to him?” She asks, voice weak as she stares at a map, seeing where Jason is, only a few miles from Bruce. “On my way. Who is it?” He asks, and her throat is thick as she stares at the screen. “I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out.” She rasps, it’s humiliating to say out loud, it makes her sick. She doesn’t know, she’s supposed to know. She’s the one that always knows.

𖥔 “All done, Bats is good.” Jason’s voice shocks her. “Wait what??” She replies, and the cameras are all live again, she sees the goons unconscious on the floor. Jason has Bruce’s arm slung over his shoulder. He looks directly at a camera and waves. “They had an interceptor or whatever, knocked everything offline. B might have a headache but he’s fine, they were just some thugs trying to get a jump on him. Gcpd’s already closing in, but I’m bringing some tech back, one of ‘em had something that looks like a homemade vertigo headband, can you look into it?” He asks, and she sniffles, hastily wiping at her eyes. “Sure can; bring it on down.” She sighs, relief washing over her. Bruce is okay, she’s back online, everything is okay.

𖥔 Bruce sits with Barbara as she types everything into a file. He’s benched until his concussion heals, and she’s putting it all into files to save in the bat computer if the thugs he fought ever become a problem again. “You did good.” Bruce compliments as she saves it all. “Hm?” She responds, glancing at him. “With your system going dark, you did good, you still led Jason right to me, still got it all resolved. Thank you.” Bruce says, and she smiles, pride welling in her chest as she nods, facing the computer again. Despite her worries and fears, she didn’t need to be Batgirl to help him, Oracle was who got Red Hood to Batman and helped even when it all went dark; she still did her job, and she did damn good at it.

Steph

𖥔 Steph is an accident with a bat symbol on her chest. She doesn’t try to be, but her need to prove herself, and her fear of her fathers footsteps makes her jump the gun, it makes her so desperate for validation she cuts corners, and makes things messy. She really doesn’t try to, and because she’s so young and anxious she doesn’t realize what she’s done until it happens, and then she’s humiliated and knows she will be looked down upon even more after.

𖥔 So it’s only fitting that one time she cuts corners, it ends with Bruce unconscious, head bleeding, arms still wrapped around Steph from where he’d shielded her with his own body. Steph was not supposed to be on the ground, this was a simple mission, Robin was supposed to be his eyes in the sky, not trying to assist him, not getting herself caught, not getting stuck in an exploding building where Bruce himself gets caught in the explosion to protect her from it.

𖥔 Her need to prove herself is out the window when she shoves Bruce off of her, gasping violently as she sees the way his body rolls limply, the way he doesn’t move, the way his cowl is dripping blood and it’s begun to pool underneath him. She took on this mantle, she wanted to prove she wasn’t like her father, she wanted Bruce to see value in her, and now he might be dying because of her.

𖥔 No, no, no, no. Steph is yanking his cowl off, wincing as his head hits the ground again, making a wet noise from the blood already spilling from it. “Hey, Hey Bat? Cmon, wake up now.” She pleads, voice shaking as she presses gauze to the wound, watching it immediately turn red, she swaps it for a new piece and takes a shaky breath, looking around them. The goons left when they set the bomb, they knew Batman would be too busy trying to save Girl wonder that they could escape, so they’re alone, the Batmobile has already been called to them, so Steph stands and hooks her arms under Bruce’s, yanking upward.

𖥔 She struggles, and pants and cries, but she manages to shove him ungracefully into the car, panic beginning to overwhelm her as she jumps into the drivers seat, fiddling with the shifts and buttons she’s still not too familiar with. Thankfully it has auto-pilot, and kicks itself into gear, speeding down the road as Steph taps at the screen, blood smearing across it. “Hey A, B is hurt real bad. Are you home?” She asks it casually, laughing as her panic rises up her throat, her heart racing as she glances at Bruce.

𖥔 “Yes, I will be waiting in the cave.” Alfred responds, and she swaps the gauze on his head, tears finally starting to fall as she looks at his face. Did she really let Bruce die just because she wanted to be strong? Bruce is bleeding out just because she wanted to prove she was different, prove she could do it. “I’m sorry B.” She sobs. She just wanted to make him proud, she wanted him to care for her the way he cares for his sons, even when she keeps him at arms length and doesn’t let him view her as one of his kids. She doesn’t want a dad. She told them. She has a dad and he’s a bad person and she’s going to prove she isn’t.

𖥔 “I’m sorry dad.” She rasps, staring at Bruce’s face as they come to a screeching halt in the cave. Alfred has Bruce laid on a table and the bleeding has stopped within four minutes. Steph sits, still bloody and crying as Alfred moves fluidly around her, getting Bruce stable, assuring her he is just fine.

𖥔 When Bruce wakes up Steph hands him her Robin costume. He furrows his eyebrows and takes it, still confused. “I almost got you killed trying to prove myself.” She tells him; and he sighs, opening his mouth to respond, but she stops him. “I can’t follow orders, I endangered you, I endangered myself. I can’t be Robin, I can’t live up to what they were, and I don’t want to. I’ll prove myself to you, and I won’t let you get hurt because of me just to do it.” She sounds mature, less scared. Bruce sets the suit down and nods once. “I do not regret doing what needs to be done to save you. I would do it again.” Bruce responds. Scolding her for not following orders seems pointless now, she’s no longer Robin; and she acknowledged her own fault, he doesn’t need to double down, especially not when she’s dealing with her own regret and fears after what happened. “I’m still sorry. I’ll be better.” She rasps, and Bruce hugs her, petting her hair gently as she fights back the tears burning behind her eyes. She’ll prove herself right this time.

Cass

𖥔 Cass stops. She’s always been the quickest one, the slyest, the one to get in and get out and have it not just done, but done good. Cass is untouchable, unbreakable, an unstoppable force hell bent on saving innocent people and protecting the world from the horrors that others bring upon them. Cass is strong because other people aren’t, and they need her to be for them. Gotham needs her.

𖥔 So when she’s fighting, she’s taking out bad guys and escorting hostages out of a burning building, she ends up cornered, hiding a little girl behind her as a goon points a gun at her. “I’ll tell you what little bat, her life for yours. You wanna walk away? Give me the girl. I’ll make sure you don’t have to see.” The man taunts, something sick bubbling in Cass’ gut, fighting down her anger as she analyzes his stance, trying to figure out how to disarm him without a stray bullet possibly hitting the girl.

𖥔 Batman drops down in front of them before she can do anything, giving her a distraction so she can run. She grabs the girl and takes off, hearing them fighting as she goes. She finds an exit and rushes out it, flames dancing inches from them as she runs toward the other hostages, carefully setting the little girl down, she turns back to the building, seeing fire already blocking the exit she just came out from. She wraps her cape around herself and rushes forward, already a step back inside, the fire sizzling around her, and the building explodes. She’s thrown backward, ears ringing as she tries to get back up, adrenaline pumping faster than ever.

𖥔 She hears the people crying, arms shaking as she pushes herself up, only to fall again. Bruce was still in there. She shakily looks up, staring at the rubble ahead of her, gasping for air as she staggers to her feet. Bruce, Bruce. She’s chanting his name, she can’t find her voice, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, and she lets out a pained cry as she falls to her knees, staring forward helplessly as the red flames dance in her eyes.

𖥔 “Batman?” The little girl from before stands in front of Cass, tears welling in her eyes as Batgirl looks up at her. Cass knows she’s needs to check the hostages, make sure everyone’s okay; count and see if anyone died in the explosion. But she knows part of that answer already, Bruce was still inside, she was too late going back in to save him, he was in there because she let herself get backed into a wall and he had to save her. He got left behind because of her.

𖥔 Cass sits back on her heels, staring at her hands blindly. Now what? What could she do? What was Gotham going to do without having a Batman, how many innocent people were going to suffer and die because Batman died for her? How much death is she going to cause? What did it matter that Batgirl survived if Batman didn’t?

𖥔 “Batman!” The little girl says again; and it only hurts Cass worse, looking up through teary eyes, she sees the girl isn’t even facing her, her back it to Cass, and her arm is extended as she points to the building still burning. Batman is walking out of the flames, holding the same goon that had attacked them. He sets the man down once they’re a safe distance, and Cass is already on her feet, running as fast as she can, and jumping into Bruce’s arms.

𖥔 “I’m sorry for worrying you Batgirl.” Batman says softly, he has to keep their identities safe, he has to watch what he says, but they both know by the way he’s hugging her. I’m sorry Cassie, I’m here. She sobs, body shaking as he holds her gently, rubbing her back through the suit. She’s gasping weakly, mouth moving but no words come out. Even though she’s hidden by her mask Bruce knows she’s trying to speak.

𖥔 “Easy, you’re alright.” He says, setting her down so they’re looking at one another, and she holds onto his arms desperately. “Dad. Safe.” She manages out, and Bruce nods, hugging her again as she cries quietly. They’ll eventually have to pull away and assess the situation, but right now the hostages are okay, and Cass needs to be held by her dad for a little while longer.

Duke

𖥔 Duke working during the day means things are a lot different for Signal than they are for the bats. He has his usual route to patrol, he knows the ins and outs of this city, he knows which places are most commonly victim to robberies and petty crimes, it’s not an easy job, but he enjoys doing it, he enjoys helping people.

𖥔 Duke hasn’t had to stop or fight anyone today. There haven’t been any robberies, no purse or car thief’s, only a stray dog begging for some of his granola bar, it was quiet. Duke sits on a rooftop checking the time and seeing his patrol is almost over, it wouldn’t hurt if he went home half an hour before usual today, nothings happened, he’s sure nothing will happen in these thirty minutes, right?

𖥔 It’s almost like the universe was waiting for him to be ready to head home, because he hears an alarm ringing from a few buildings away. He hurries that way, face falling as he sees several men running out of a bank, carrying bags full of money. He grapples to them, pulling a baton from his utility belt, he’s about to land on the ground when he hears someone scream for help.

𖥔 “He’s hurt someone help!” A woman inside the bank cries out, and Dukes face falls as he looks at them, there’s someone injured, he weighs his options of stopping the thief’s first, or helping the injured person, but as he looks at the man laying on the ground, the air is knocked out of him. “Bruce.” He gasps, rushing over, forgetting about the thief’s as they speed off and disappear, he skids to a stop at Bruce’s side.

𖥔 Bruce Wayne is unconscious on the floor of the bank, bleeding out of a bullet wound in his stomach. “Bruce!” Duke cries out, rushing to his side. This isn’t Batman injured in a fight, or hurt by a villain. This is Bruce Wayne, out in the lively hours of Gotham, getting shot in a bank robbery. “Mr. Wayne, can you hear me? Sir?” Duke yanks his gloves off and checks for a pulse. When he feels one he immediately starts applying pressure to the wound. “He stood between them and me, it’s all my fault.” The girl sobs, she’s clearly a bank teller, her hands and skirt covered in Bruce’s blood.

𖥔 Duke is in full panic, he’s Signal right now, he’s not Bruce’s newest ward, he’s not tending to an injured Batman. Signal the vigilante is helping Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham; a stranger. “Hang in there sir, you’re gonna be okay.” Duke forces his voice to sound controlled, despite the way something sits in his throat, tears stinging behind his eyes.

𖥔 A crowd has formed now, hushed whispers and shocked gasps surrounding him as he pushes harder on the wound, his hands begin to shake, Bruce’s skin is losing color, there really is a lot of blood around them. Getting shot isn’t nearly enough to take down Batman, he would walk it off. But Bruce Wayne hasn’t even woken up, how long has it been now? Duke feels sick, breathing shaky as he wraps the wound.

𖥔 Thankfully someone had called 911 because Duke can hear the sirens, and an ambulance pulls up seconds later. He’s gently pulled back, and Bruce is lifted onto a gurney. “Thank you kid, we’ll take it from here.” An emt tells him, and then they take off with Bruce, leaving Duke alone, leaving the vigilante standing there, covered in blood, with a hundred eyes on him. “T-Thank you, you saved him.” The bank teller whispers, Duke helps her to her feet, moving on autopilot as he stares at his own hands, skin crawling as tears sting behind his eyes. He only nods, disappearing onto the rooftop, and running away.

𖥔 He informs the others, and by that night the thieves are caught by Red Robin and Spoiler, and Duke lies in his bed, he’s in his pajamas, he’s showered, but he stares at his hands and sees the red dripping from them, he feels the weight of Bruce’s body, limp and unmoving, he feels himself clinging to his fathers body, and having to act as a stranger, having to keep their identities separate, and not knowing if he would survive. If that killed him, Dukes last moment with him would’ve been as strangers, being watched by hundreds of eyes, and thousands more from the videos circulating.

𖥔 There’s a soft knock on the door and Duke hums, watching through tired eyes as Alfred walks inside, sets down a phone, and walks out before Duke can say anything. The screen is black so Duke only stares, confused until he hears a throat clear. “Duke?” Bruce’s voice rings through the phone, and the boys tears finally fall, hands shaking as he picks up the phone. He has a moment of fear that he’s going to get blood on it, but has to remind himself that there’s no blood on his skin anymore, he’s sure there still is on Bruce’s

𖥔 “Hey kiddo.” Bruce says when Duke doesn’t respond. “Hi.” He manages to rasp, and Bruce hums at the acknowledgement. “You did really good today.” Bruce says, and Duke cries harder, holding his head in his hands as he stays quiet so Bruce can’t hear. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, and I know you’re beating yourself up, but you did exactly as you should’ve. You let the thieves go to help the victim, you kept the victim stable until medical professionals arrived, you had the situation handled so the thieves were caught. You did everything wonderfully Signal.” Bruce compliments, and then a sob escapes Dukes lips, Bruce doesn’t say anything else and Duke sniffles. “It wasn’t an innocent bystander it was you.” He huffs, a bite behind his words as his own failure weighs him down, despite the fact that he didn’t fail at anything, he did everything he was supposed to do.

𖥔 “And it was you Duke. I’m safe because of you.” Bruce says, and the boy huffs in anger. “What the hell was I supposed to do? If something worse happened? If that was the last time I saw you? I had to treat you like Bruce Wayne; I had to be a stranger.” He says, hurt bleeding through his words, and Bruce hums softly. “Your suit doesn’t mean anything Duke, it is still you inside of it. A suit will never change who we are, what you mean to me. I was comforted that my son was there, not Signal.” Bruce says, and Duke squeezes his eyes shut, letting more tears fall as Bruce takes a deep breath. “I know how you’re feeling, and I want you to know that you don’t have to feel this way, you saved me Duke, and I will never compare you to your alias.” He says, and Duke sniffles, nodding even though Bruce can’t see him.

𖥔 “They’re letting me come home tomorrow, and I’m benched until I’m healed, so we’ll spend some time together okay? Just us, no suits or names.” Bruce says, and Duke smiles small. “Sounds good.” He responds, sniffling. “Good. Get some rest Duke, everything’s going to be okay.” He assures him, and they whisper their goodnights and hang up. The weight has been lifted off of Dukes chest, and he takes a deep breath, lying back down. Bruce is okay, and so is Duke.

Bruce Wayne has a family that loves him, and doesn’t know how they’d survive losing him. And he knows he wouldn’t survive losing them. That’s what makes their family so perfect.

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

This was so fun to write thank you for the request! I love getting to write out Bruce’s relationship with the kids, and had to include all of them for this one, it turned out wayyy longer than planned, had to bring the family together :’). I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. ᡣ𐭩

[ham1lton]

normal person: hey how’s it going

lando: So it had nothing to do with me! Yes, ok, I was there, I admit that, but I didn't do anything. It was Nico. It was all Nico. I'm not going down for something I didn't do. If anyone deserves to get punished, it should be NICO

love the implication that lando is not a normal person. he had nothing to do with x and he’s still getting jumped.

random: lando i liked your driving today-

lando: listen i am a feminist. okay. i support women. i LOVE them. i have a signed copy of lucky girl syndrome actually. i have said thank you personally to every woman i have ever met. i would never be x. i deleted the letter from my keyboard. i don’t even like that letter. i’m more of a h guy myself. i love yn!!!! focus on nico!!! it was always nico!!!!

[monotonesmile]

So kind of serious-ish I guess so totally find if you don’t wanna answer this!

Can I request Rise boys x Reader who is also an older sibling 

Reader is an older sibling so also has all those big sibling worries - feeling like they need to be a constant good example for their younger siblings and so they have to be good at everything, being a bit like a parent in how they worry a lot on if they’re a good sibling or not. Just general stuff like that 

Rise Boys X GN!Reader

——————————————————

Leo:

Leo probably would immediately know that you’re an older sibling, as much as people joke about him being a dummy, Leo genuinely is observant and smart, he could tell you were similar to Raph in some places, he’s seen how you act towards those younger than you, almost like a parent.

Leo doesn’t really mind you being an older sibling, he just wishes you’d take care of yourself for once.

Leo will actively hold you down in bed just to get you to sleep, and I don’t care what anyone says, THIS BOY CAN SING! He will sing lullabies until you fall asleep, he won’t leave your side until you wake up either, he is taking any chance to cuddle you.

If Leo had injured himself on patrol or something, he’d be surprised when you started to patch him up, not expecting you to actually know how to clean and bandage injuries and he’s curious about how you know, which is when he realized that you’ve likely done this to your sibling(s) before, of course you’d know how to treat wounds if your trying to protect and help your family.

Leo will try to get you to relax by watching Lou Jitsu or Jupiter Jim movies, because it helps him relax so why wouldn’t it work with you? He’d also watch you do your own hobbies with the most adorable expression on his face, he loves seeing you in your own space and doing the things you love.

Donnie:

Donnie absolutely knew you were an older sibling, he’d tell you to your face. What? Didn’t think he wouldn’t research you and your family? Come on, this is Donnie we are talking about. He would research everything about you before you even started dating, he does it to everyone he comes in contact with.

Honestly, none of them would really mind you being an older sibling, Donnie would absolutely try to make a schedule for your days, trying to help with the weight of your responsibilities to your sibling(s).

Donnie would be very strict about the sleep schedule he’d give you, he knows people can’t function properly without proper sleep (despite his insistence on not sleeping either), some nights, he would let you hang out with him in his lab if neither of you could get to sleep. You’d probably fall asleep before him, so he’d take you to bed but wouldn’t return to his lab, he’d lay down with you and get some rest too.

Donnie honestly wouldn’t be all too surprised by you trying to get him to take a break from his projects, his brothers have tried to do the same with varying levels of success. Though what would surprise him would be you not giving up like his brothers would, he’d probably be so surprised that you could drag him out of his lab so he can rest in his bed.

Donnie trying to get you to relax definitely is an…experience…because he doesn’t really relax himself, so he doesn’t really help you relax either, but he does try to make sure you’re following the schedule he made, which would include a point where you should be relaxing, though it’s up to you on what you want to do to relax. Donnie would be happy to listen to you ramble about your hobbies and interests as long as you’ll listen to his own rambling.

Raph:

Raph, you’d have to tell him that you’re an older sibling, and he’d be the most understanding of your situation, having been in a similar one for most of his life. He’d also be the most likely to try and help with your responsibilities, to the best of his abilities at least.

Like I said, none of them would mind, Raph definitely would try to get you to rest while he helps deal with your sibling(s), who either love him or not, but he’ll try regardless because he knows the struggle.

Raph would try to find a healthy solution to getting you to sleep properly, he’d be willing to watch movies or shows until you fall asleep, holding you until you wake, acting as a bed for you. He’d probably try to talk to you about your sleeping habits as well, trying to find something that works best for you.

Raph would be the most surprised by someone else trying to take care of him, he’s so used to taking care of others that the idea of someone taking care of him is honestly baffling. He’d probably appreciate it though, he secretly enjoys being pampered by you but he still wants to act like the tough turtle he is, you’ll wear him down eventually and then you’ll have a big churring snapper on your lap.

Raph would be slightly overbearing with trying to take care of you, he’d probably try to get you to relax with cuddles or going on walks together, but he wants you to be comfortable, so he would do the most to help you, whether it works or not, he is trying. As for your hobbies, he would watch and listen to you, maybe he’d even partake in them if he’s curious, it makes you happy and he wants to make sure you’re happy!

——————————————————

[Requests are open!]

[misotsukiiyeooo]

can you write something with dad! Vernon?? idk but I'd really love to see it

"Baby?"

Pairing: Dad!Chwe Vernon x Mom! F! Reader

A/N: Heyyy! So I did take into consideration that he is an older brother however, I wanted him to be a bit naive when it comes to younger kids. (he'd still be a great dad!)

Genre: Fluff (Hint of crack)

Word count: 4.1k

Synopsis: Vernon says many things, but one word recently caught your son's attention.

You come home from a quick trip to the store and notice Vernon sitting on the couch with your son, watching a cartoon.

When they hear the door close, they both turn to face you in unison. "You came back fast," Vernon remarks as he gets up to help you with the bags.

"Was I not supposed to? You boys looked like you were enjoying your alone time, huh?" You cross your arms, teasing him as he puts the groceries away.

Unable to hide his smile, he turns away. "Well, we did have to pause a very important show…" His sarcasm is relentless.

"Really? Is Spongebob that important?" you reply, amused. "Y/N, it's Spongebob." Vernon looks at you as if it’s the most evident thing ever.

“Yeah, baby, it’s Spongebob!” your son exclaims excitedly, a grin lighting up his face. His new vocabulary word catches you off guard, and you can’t help but raise an eyebrow in curiosity. “Baby?” you echo, trying to understand where he picked it up.

He nods enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I hear Daddy call people that on the phone all the time! Isn’t it funny?” He bursts into giggles, clearly amused by his use of the word.

Shifting your gaze to Vernon, You put your hand firmly on your hip, ready to confront him. He tries to focus on unpacking the groceries but can’t meet your eyes. “Oh, he does?” you say in an amused tone, watching Vernon gulp nervously.

“Yes, I hear him call you that too, but I don’t understand because you’re not even a baby! Daddy’s silly,” your son continues, still giggling. His laughter rings out as he looks from you to Vernon, clearly enjoying the playful moment—at least for him.

"We'll talk later," you say, glancing at Vernon. Then, you walk over to your son, who sits quietly, and take a seat beside him on the plush couch. "Listen," you begin, choosing your words carefully, "I know there might be times when you hear Daddy calling me—or whoever that word—but I need you to understand that you can't call me that, okay?" Your voice is soft and gentle, hoping to ease the confusion you're seeing in his little frown.

“Why not?” he asks, his big eyes searching yours for an explanation.

You take a deep breath, wanting to convey the importance of what you're about to say. “Because I'm your 'Mommy,' not your 'baby.'"

His face shifts into a thoughtful expression, and after a moment, he replies, "Okay… I won't call you that anymore." A smile breaks across your face, and you reach over to ruffle his hair affectionately.

You let him continue watching his show before turning back to Vernon. "Listen, babe. The only time I ever said the word 'baby' on the phone with anyone but you was when I was talking to an actual tiny human. Other than that, I only call you that."

You watch him patiently as he explains, "It's okay, Vernon. I understand; it just caught me off guard for a moment. But then I thought about it, and I knew you wouldn't do something like that." You give him a reassuring smile, your heart feeling warm.

"But you have to watch what you say now that our little munchkin is picking up on everything," you tease, glancing at your son who is giggling happily.

"Yeah, you’re right about that," Vernon chuckles, pulling you close and wrapping his arm around you as he enjoys the sight of your son’s cheerful smile.

Your son turns to face both of you, curiosity getting the best of him. "But…" He thinks for a moment, then asks innocently, "Why does Daddy call you that, Mommy?"

"Well… I'm not sure how to explain it, but—" Vernon cuts you off. "I call her that because she is my baby, the same way you're our baby." You cringe slightly at his wording.

Your son bursts into laughter. "What? Mommy's your baby? Daddy, I don’t think you understand how the family tree works… I learned about it in school yesterday. Want me to show you the paper?" Vernon is left speechless by your son's naive and unintentional fact-check.

You cover your mouth to hide your laughter, failing miserably. "You know what? Maybe I should review that paper with you…" Vernon takes your son's hand, and they both walk to get the paper. You can't help but laugh at his flushed face.

Reqs are open!!

Taglist!!

@jjunie-0 @honglynights @allieyaaa @bath1lda @black-swan-blog27

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[sunnibits]

potentially hot take but this is a pet peeve of mine

[goldkirk]

I don’t know how to explain any more clearly that it doesn’t MATTER if it seems legitimate to you. You have got to fact check every single headline and post and claim on the left just like you need to do on the right.

The left is NOT immune to misinformation and rushed reporting. And the more emotionally polarizing or shocking the talking points, sound bytes, and headlines are, the worse it is and more frequently it happens.

Learn to verify through multiple independent sources. If you can’t do that, you can’t trust it.

If you have to wait extra hours for the real information to come through vetted channels—NOT just one individual somewhere everyone links to, and not just one single media source either, EVEN if it’s a major news network—thats just how it has to be. What news outside of genuine local disasters near you TRULY needs your outrage and post-sharing in the next hour specifically?

Misinformation works best by not seeming like misinformation and by fitting in with the rest of what you already expect to see. It doesn’t help anyone to not be able to recognize and avoid the stuff.

[dykedvonte]

I was rewatching mouthwashing, and I ended up thinking of the different reactions that Curly and Jimmy had in doing their tasks. How during the scene of Anya evaluating Jimmy and showing dread towards the idea of doing his evaluation, Curly was the one that offered to take it off her hands. He had no issue with adding more to his plate, because he knew - or well, thought, he knew that Jimmy wasn't going to "bullshit" with him since he's known him for a long time. When Anya hands Curly a note from Swansea, Curly goes to check out what the issue is and he takes care of it without a complaint, the only "complaint" he has is how this incident could have damaged the pods. Which is reasonable, those pods are their only way to be saved if anything tragic happens on the ship. However, in comparison to Jimmy being asked to do things, he's passive-aggressive about it. When Anya asks Jimmy if he could help her out with Curly's painkillers, he tells her that people should be worth their titles, specifically using her title as a nurse when she asked him for help and then when she says forget it, since he made her feel insecure, he still goes "Oh no, I'LL take care of it" as if he was doing a chore, a favor for her. Then, there's that part where he blows up at her for things that she didn't even ask him to do - more so the others asked him about it, like the code scanner, him deciding he needed to find the axe for the foam, and then, there's the medicine part (which when she does ask, and she reconsiders - going to do it herself, he takes that away from her). Jimmy complains about the tasks he has to do and he treats it like a big issue, a "woes me" that he has to do this and that - wanting the praise of the capital without actually doing any work. While Curly doesn't complain about it, in fact, he even mentions that he's aware of how well he is doing at his job as a Captain during that cockpit scene with him and Jimmy. If Jimmy only had to do a small amount of tasks to get irritated and annoyed at being captain, while Curly didn't which I feel like encapsulates their personalities. Curly understands what he's doing is a job, it's a responsibility, why would he complain at any point for doing what he's suppose too? Why would he be upset at people asking him to do tasks? While Jimmy on the other hand, isn't used to it at all and it's different to what he's had before and he's realizing that he doesn't actually like doing the work he has too. I just wanted to ramble about it even if it seemed kind of obvious xd

It’s obvious but it is a thing people miss or understate when trying to find parallels in Curly’s and Jimmy’s relationship/personalities.

Like the way people portray it as neither taking responsibility when it is almost split down the middle of Curly taking responsibilities and faults that shouldn’t be his and making himself unequipped to handle the ones that are while Jimmy refuses to handle the responsibilities he has because he wasn’t expecting the work that comes with them.

Not a lot to say but people forget that another thing the game comments on is prioritization of issues and responsibilities and how the guys fail at it in one way or another in the situation.

[sea-jello]

hong kong miku,,,

[heyclickadee]

Okay but for all we know Saw and his buddies picked Tech up (alive) on Eriadu.

[chibishortdeath]

Mspaint is really fun actually—

[quirinah]

oomf was talking about this combi and I remembered the season 25 episode where they interact for like 30 seconds. and then i got progressively more invested