#I love drawing little talia so much

[izuizzy]

excuse me, the little one requires your attention

part 2 is here

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 3

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: Unrequited love, angst, jealousy, tension, language

Word Count: 6043

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'It takes a Lot to Know a Man' by Damien Rice

While it was exhausting in some ways and occasionally involved people who were a little noisy and irate, spending an entire day at the hospital and taking care of patients felt good. It was occasionally unclear which task you had more difficulty with than the other: hunting or nursing. That being said, one of them was a little too dangerous for you.

Your thoughts raced at every word Dean said, hinting that he didn't want you to tear down your bond, as you thought back to the evening he'd spent with Jo while Sam spent his time watching TV. Though he hadn't stated it explicitly, his sharp statements with soft tones made it clear. Although you were happy that he was trying to be respectful and polite, the fact that it hurt so much made his efforts a waste.

Perhaps it would be better for you to listen Sam. Giving new people a chance and meeting them might perhaps heal whatever hurts you on the inside. But when it came down to it, you were a coward for being devoted to someone you never had and never would. Especially when you saw Dean enjoying himself with Jo there in front of your eyes, it didn't even make sense. 

As if absolutely nothing happened between you. 

It was just too much for you, yet it meant nothing to him. But because you were the one who let everything happen and didn't even inform him that you were a virgin, you had no reason to hold Dean responsible. Nothing at all. However, that was such a burden. 

You cleared your mind of thoughts and saw your colleague doing his job while you treated the small girl's hand when she reached you with her nervous mother, who was frequently repeating to her that she had warned her not to play with sharp objects. It wasn't that horrible, but you did your best to soothe her and divert her attention by carefully cleaning her hand.

You informed her mother that there were hundreds of such and even worse incidents in emergency, much like her daughter, after the sharp glass was removed from her arm. You were given the task of stitching, and you began it meticulously and with caution. Sadly, it had to be stitched. Even doing it with adults appeared to be challenging. 

She was trying her hardest not to weep when she saw the needle because she felt guilty and ashamed, but you swiftly covered it up and looked at her mother to let her know that she too needed to calm her daughter. Fortunately, she got the message. 

I was just wondering what your name is. You haven't told me yet," you inquired, trying to complete your task without drawing attention to your hands. 

“Talia,” she sobbed as she turned to face her mother as if she wanted to see if she was still angry with her.

“It's a very lovely name.” You replied, “It's good to meet you, Talia,” and gave her your name. Making sure her kid wasn't gazing at you while you were taking care of her arm, you encouraged her mother to talk to her as well. Not in an angry way, of course.

“It's not very pretty,” she said. Children typically complain about several things. 

“Why do you say that, though?”

“It sounds like 'Arya.' I was playing with Aisha when she told me that. I don't even like that name.”

If there was anything positive about kids, it was being prone to share too much. That was really beneficial for handling youngsters during an emergency, though. It would have been better, of course, if they had just been cautious and not gone through at all. It seemed to you that the other girl she was referring to was her closest friend. 

“I don't believe so. Their pronouncations are really differently,” you observed. “I has a very beautiful meaning, and it's not a very common name, which is a nice thing. Don't you think so?”

“Yes,” she said after giving it some thought. “Will it hurt?” 

“Just a little bit,” you smiled reassuringly at her. “People say my hands are really soft.”

She was unable to conceal her frightened and apprehensive look as you began stitching as her mother went on to remark about how impulsive her daughter might be at times. Additionally, you saw her continuing talking with her daughter about topics that would divert her attention. 

She inquired, “Do you have a boyfriend?” with curiosity.  She was attempting to cover up the hurt expression on her face so her mother wouldn't say anything further.

“No,” you smiled and stated. 

“Why?”

“I'm not sure.” You attempted to respond vaguely in order to get her to stop interrogating you about your nonexistent romantic life. “Adult life is difficult to comprehend when it comes to such matters.”

“Now I'm not interested in growing up. Mine is not difficult.”

You interrupted with, “Good for you,” and carefully cleaned her arm while smiling sincere at her. “It is finished. I told you that my hands were soft, right?”

You felt better as the rest of the day passed, taking care of other patients, listening to them, and doing what you could to help them. It dawned on you that becoming worn out was an effective distraction from troubling thoughts. Making yourself occupied at that moment was definitely the best thing for you because you were going to lose your mind over thinking about Dean constantly, even when you had to pee. Your body was hurting so much that you had no energy left to consider anything but resting.

You were taken aback when one of your closest friends randomly stopped by the hospital where you work right before you were about to leave. You looked him in the eye and saw that, indeed, it was him. You shivered in anticipation as you gazed at him because of the little coolness in the air. Your pulse was pounding with excitement and curiosity as you narrowed your eyes and caught him with such a focused glance that he knew you were the one gazing at him before you could.

In a tone that suggested both shock and joy, you exclaimed, “Robert?” as you approached each other. You could have recognized him sooner, a few minutes earlier, before you left the hospital.

He was your pal from college. Before you left the hospital where you both worked and joined Sam and Dean, you two were extremely close friends. With Rob, everything was simple, and he was a really nice and supportive friend; you would never deny that. But at that point, you couldn't simply bury your desire to go after the family business in addition to your own work, and it was difficult to say no to Dean. He was the one who initially convinced you. After all of your losses, you had also yearned for something different—something that could brighten you up. 

During the times you worked together, Rob was a highly professional, talented, and encouraging doctor. Even though there was a hierarchy between you at the hospital, you respected the fact that he never treated you worse than necessary or better than he should have. He was always completely aware of the lines.

But even though you've been in touch with Rob, your connection with him has been weakened since you've spent so much time with Dean and Sam. There's no denying that.

You gave him a huge, tight hug, and he chuckled, “Hey,” as if he wasn't at all shocked to see you. He knew that you were working here after all, but you didn't expect to see him anyway.

Warmly hugging him again, you said, “What are you doing here?”

He winked and added, “I was in the neighborhood,” as you drew back and gave him a suspicious look. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Dean attempted to divert his attention throughout the day while he fixed things and cleaned Baby. He became consumed with a sensation of rage and frustration that he just didn't comprehend. He was thinking about the past three weeks nonstop, even if nothing was wrong. Particularly the last night. 

After speaking with Jo over the phone about his intention to stop their connection and his lack of interest in pursuing a serious relationship, Dean was pleased that she accepted his request and that she wasn't interested in pursuing it further either, even though she offered him to go hunting. His and her desire to hunt were similar, but Dean didn't comprehend how different they were in fact. He was glad Jo felt the same. 

If Dean had cared a little bit more, he may have been ashamed by his obviously poor performance last night, but oddly, he didn't. He felt a lot of burden when he realized that even for a brief while, he fucked Jo thinking about you. Imagining your body under him. It wasn't fair, and he didn't even mean it. He was aware of that.

The worst thing about it was that he enjoyed it and wasn't pleased with it behaving like this. Clearly stating that one night shouldn't be enough to ruin your friendship, he shouldn't reciprocate by fantasizing about fucking you. About filling you with his—Uh. Whatever. 

All day, he tried to find a way a way to divert his attention with Baby and all things mechanical. He sometimes purposefully broke things so he could fix them again. But he also couldn't quit thinking about your most recent conversation.

It wasn't the unclear situation between him and Jo that was causing him the strain he thought it was. It didn't ease him at all to cut his links with her so quickly. He was surprised to see that you were encircling him in his thoughts, imprisoning him there. 

“You look messy,” Sam said, observing his ripped t-shirt and dirty face. 

As he bent over and looked at Sam, he said, “Thanks,” in a dismissive voice, while searching for the right tool for his car. 

“You seem to be quite busy today, aren't you?” said Sam to carefully avoid getting his shirt dirty as he gave Dean the right tool in his palm from afar. 

“You think? I guess it was a long time since I took care of Baby.”

“Yeah, for around a week. But why in the world are you behaving like a cranky old lady?”

“Sam, don't get started. I mean it.” Dean shot back immediately, suddenly becoming quite defensive. He felt like the irritation was pouring into him again, but he didn't even understand why, which was making him angrier. “I have too much to do as you see.”

“By the way, when did Jo leave? Even though I got up early, I didn't see her.”

“Yeah, she left in the middle of the night.”

Recalling the evening did not soothe his feelings, but Dean responded to Sam, stating to let the fuck him alone as soon as possible. But Sam seemed intent on playing the part of the curious bitch, as if he intended to test Dean's patience to the maximum extent possible. 

“After you two had finished, huh? She's an awesome girl, but her loudness..is definetely something else. I'm not trying to say it in a mean way, but for heaven's sake, Dean. If you two have... kinky stuff, it would be best if you spent the night at her place. I bet you two also probably made it difficult for Y/N to fall asleep.”

Dean shot a look at Sam, who was attempting to say something without coming out as weird about Jo or whatever. Sam didn't dislike Jo at all; it wasn't that he despised her. She was a little too cunning and rebellious for Dean's liking. That was a known fact. His brother was sometimes a bitch; that was true, but not that bitchy for sure. 

When Sam brought you up in the chat, Dean found it difficult to focus on his work and became disoriented while lying down beneath his car. Sam was trying very hard to get under his skin for sure.

He had become frustrated in some way by the thought that you heard him and Jo. He wasn't trying to get you to hear something or anything. Dean frowned with distaste, picturing you hearing Jo's exaggerated noises. He shouldn't have brought her home to have sex in the first place, but what is done was done. Even it wasn't right. Fuck that.

Dean attempted to lightheartedly remark, “Women have a hard time with staying silent when I'm around, huh,” in an attempt to divert Sam's attention. He attempted to change the subject at hand.

“Have you seen Y/N in the morning?”

“Why are you asking that right now?” Dean grunted and glared at Sam. He suddenly lost control of the tool he was holding and groaned in pain as it landed across his face. “God. Fuck this.”

Puzzled by Dean's odd behavior, Sam put his hands in his pockets in between his complaints. His recent behavior has been peculiar. Sam was hesitant to confront it since he thought it was likely to do with their father and other hunting experiences, but he couldn't help but wonder if he was still angry with you for what happened on the previous hunt.

Sam was appreciative of Dean for constantly watching out for him, taking care of him, and protecting him from harm—even if there were times when it made him feel like a little child. Sam knew that Dean would always be looking out for him, even if he lived fifty years old. Dean has always been overly protective, and he always will be. However, there were times he was being too much. 

“Have you?” Dean was curious and asked. Remembering your swollen eyes, he wondered if you were okay. It didn't appear like you got much sleep. 

Sam said, “Yeah,” while keeping his hands in his pockets and observing Dean's struggling with Baby. “She seemed pretty bad though.”

“Why do you say that?” Despite his best efforts to appear indifferent and normal, Dean's tone betrayed him. There was absolutely no stopping it. He was wondering if he was treating you too harshly these days. Neither Dean nor you were ever good at expressing yourself clearly.

“I'm not sure. She was quite exhausted, and her eyes appeared to be red, but I'm not sure. Her having to work and hunt at the same time must be challenging.” Sam thought you were pushing yourself a little too hard since he got to know you; however, he wasn't sure if it was just weariness or something more. He was impressed by your ambition and couldn't help but feel respect and appreciation for you.

“Maybe,” Dean interrupted, reminiscing on the way you looked the previous night. You looked so worn out, but he was too preoccupied with the talk to notice. Even though he wasn't sure whether he would believe it himself, he would prefer to pretend that you were just dizzy or sleepy. He would have said that you had sobbed uncontrollably all night, but he quickly brushed this idea from his mind as a sensation of uneasiness overcame him. “She must be tired.” 

“Did you apologize to her?”

“For what”

Sam kept rolling his eyes at Dean because he was becoming a little irritated with the way he was acting. He would claim that throughout the previous two or three weeks, something inside of him had altered. 

“For acting like a grumpy old bitch,” Sam shot back. 

Dean kept it short, refusing to elaborate on what had happened the night before. “We talked it out,” he said. “She'll start being more watchful now. By the way, is your arm okay?” 

Sam kneeled down and attempted to look into Dean's face in an effort to start a meaningful conversation, realizing that Dean was unwilling to acknowledge that his reaction was wrong. 

Sam remarked, “It's been a year since she joined us, and she's far too helpful and too kind for how you reacted there," dismissing his inquiry over his arm. Though I'm grateful for your concern, it's wrong. You need to be a little softer and gentler.”

“Do you think I don't know that?” After switching out the tool, Dean gave Sam a stern look.

“No.”

Sam grumbled in frustration, acknowledging that it would be impossible to alter Dean's perspective. “It wasn't very kind to tell someone that you have only one left to care about when they don't even have one.”

For a brief period, Dean's hands paused, and regret overcame his mind. He couldn't recall the exact moment those piercing words, as if he intended to intentionally harm you, came out of his mouth. It was never his intention to do so. Gradually, Dean's hands slowed, and he stood up, recalling that you were the only member of your family still living. For a moment, he stopped being interested in everything. 

“Now you know what you must apologize for, huh?” With a broken smile, Sam remarked. At least Dean wasn't so rigid, which relieved him. “Do you know when her shift ends?”

Dean murmured, “Yeah, I guess,” in a tone that was more controlled and calm. 

“You need to fix this; I'm serious. Give her a call, and bring her over for tonight. Having a dinner together might be a wonderful place to begin, and she'll be too exhausted anyway.”

“Don't tell me what to do.” Dean hurriedly walked by Sam, messing his hair to annoy him. He returned inside from the garage, determined not to engage in any further discourse. 

After a quick shower, Dean changed into new clothing and stood in front of the mirror, making adjustments with his hair until he was satisfied with the way he looked. He bit his lip anxiously and walked the room for a little while, considering calling you, but then decided to come get you because he knew you would be finished with work in an hour. It would be better to give you a call on the way. On the drive back home, it may be somewhat more appropriate for conversation. Driving back after so many hours at work would exhaust you too much. Besides, it was becoming late. Perhaps you might even consider eating in a restaurant.

“But why didn't you inform me about your arrival? You could have called me,” you wondered, your mouth making into a smile. It surprised you too much to see him so abruptly, even though you knew he would let you know if there was another time. 

Unexpectedly, he replied, “I actually did it on purpose.” You waited for him to continue. “I thought, surprising you about that, I'm going to work here from now on, and seeing that face of yours would be worth it.”

“Oh my god,” you said, displaying greater excitement than you had expected.

“You can't be serious.”

“I am pretty serious actually.”

When your phone began to ring, you apologized and continued to ignore Dean's calls. Rob then informed you that he had chosen to relocate after his father passed away, and you had attended his funeral around a month prior. You assumed that it must have caused some sort of trauma, but you didn't pursue the matter further since you didn't want to reopen old wounds.

You inquired excitedly, “Do you want to come over? I could make you some food so we can have an actual conversation instead of chatting under that weather. You know, it's kind of cold, and I'm sort of tired as hell,” you joked, hoping he would take you up on your offer. It has suddenly occurred to you that you have been missing your friend, an old friend you haven't fallen in love with despite knowing for years.

Dean eventually lost patience with you and, making an annoyed sound, placed his phone back in his pocket. He thought about giving you another call right after he parked and got out of his car, but if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, you were speaking with a man. He could tell that you had ignored his calls since you were having a heated chat that briefly made him stiff. If he didn't see you giggling and even giving him a firm hug, which caused his body to tense up for a brief moment, he would say it was simply small talk.

Dean wasn't sure if being ignored was the cause of his growing ire. Since his rage had been driving him insane since the morning, he put the blame on his lack of patience. His pride was hurt by your disregard for him as well. 

With a sidelong glance at the man you were speaking with, Dean saw his rage flare up. Not feeling calm since the morning was tiring though. The man had a prideful appearance yet exuded a sense of confidence. From a distance, he could express that enough. 

His body stiffened for a moment, indicating that the conversation was... intense. So that was the reason that you ignored him for that long. 

Dean moved fast but calmly to avoid making a scene, attempting to maintain his composure despite his mind racing with thoughts. As he walked to each of you, he considered lying about his work. Maybe he would pretend to be a doctor in order to create a good impression, or he would claim to be working for the CIA or FBI in order to make dirty jokes about you and him. He would decide that soon enough.

You whispered, “Dean?” in shock as he unexpectedly appeared at your side. It was unusual for him to show up, especially considering how distant you two were in the last couple of days. He glanced in your direction, but then his gaze shifted to Robert. 

Dean glanced at you and added, “I've been calling you for some time.” It was a little judgmental, which bothered you.

Robert stared at you both bewildered, and you lied to him, “I wasn't aware,” but he didn't interject. Awkwardness suddenly filled the air. Three of you were waiting on foot as the chilly weather grew more intense. It was a really uncomfortable moment. 

As Robert extended his hand for a formal introduction, Dean said, “Can't imagine why,” while concentrating his entire attention on him. Dean talked first: “Dean Winchester.” 

Robert also introduced himself quite sweetly and kindly. He was typically really polite and mindful. You hoped Dean wasn't feeling like making uncomfortable remarks or embarrassing you in any way. He wasn't a reckless person, but when he wasn't in the mood, you just didn't know whether he knew the lines. 

Robert gave you a long stare when they finally got to meet, but he remained silent. Rather, he said, “So are you two friends or?” 

“Yeah, very close,” Dean said immediately. Robert only nodded to him. “How do you know each other?”

“Well, I'm a doctor.” Robert said, giving you a real, heartfelt smile that warmed your heart, “We've known each other for a long time and worked in the same hospital for quite a long time from my perspective since I'm always on the move. She’s a very good nurse, very talented.” When someone you looked up to complimented you, your heart skipped a beat. These days, it's difficult to find someone who values your effort.

You tensed up for a moment when Dean responded, “I know,” in a proud voice and with a sly smile. When he saw Robert smiling broadly at you, he was powerless to stop himself. Licking his lips, he added, “She has very soft hands indeed and definitely knows how to use them.”

Though Dean had no intention of making any inappropriate remarks, his patience with the man in front of him was getting thinner by the moment as he kept looking at you while he talked. Dean felt like he was getting in the mood when he observed Robert's face change. With a confused expression on his face, he seemed to be trying to figure out whether Dean meant it literally or if it was a metaphor or something.

You gave Dean a glare, but you remained silent despite your cheeks turning red from his unexpected and dirty statement. You were shocked that he chose to act this way in order to make you feel uncomfortable in front of your friend. You didn't mind when he made similar jokes when there was just you and him; nonetheless, you felt embarrassed acting in this way in front of Robert. You weren't sure of Dean's actual intentions. 

You choose to cut it off in order to release some tension. “Robb, would you like to have an actual conversation with me later, or simply come over? Of course, if you have the time.”

Dean gave you and Robert a bitter look as he realized how fast and recklessly you had welcomed a man to your house at that hour. He knew you well enough to know that you weren't someone who liked to greet guests at your place with such ease. It didn't matter how hard you tried to disguise your trust concerns; you had trust issues. You were so at ease and full of energy around that man that he wondered how close you must have been to him. Dean closed his eyes for a while, pushing the terrible pictures from his mind as he considered the scenarios involving you and him.

“Actually, I came here at that hour to visit with a different friend before spending the night with my aunt. Can we have a call for tomorrow to set up a suitable time?” Robb remarked very politely, “I guess your friend came here to pick you up,” glancing at Dean as if he required clarification from both of you.

You went to offer him a hug by saying, “Of course. I'm so glad to see you again.”

His hands massaged your back as he gave you an even closer embrace, kissing you briefly on the top of the head and telling you to take care of yourself. He promised to text you as soon as he had some spare time.

Dean gazed at you and him confused as he saw you two embrace like lovers who had met years later. He questioned whether the man's irritating conduct was intended for annoying him. He was curious as to how and when you two first connected, as well as why, given that you spent the entire year with Sam and him, you would still be so close to someone a year later. Although Dean was aware that you remained in contact with your pals, he was unaware of how close you were to one of them.

Dean was ready to say something, but he instantly changed his mind and was waiting for you to end the hug. He kind of wanted to break Robert's face and hands when he touched your back. Dean wondered when he'd felt you give him such a yearning hug. Most likely never. Considering all the times he had saved your ass, you were ungrateful. Later, he would speak about this. 

Dean turned to face you shortly after Robb departed and said, “I've called you many times.”

You apologized as he gave you a strange look. You had no idea why you sounded so aloof and cold. “I haven't seen him in a very long time. He's one of my closest friends.”

You questioned, “Why are you here?” before he continued.”Has anything happened?”

“Not at all. I arrived here to pick you up.”

“But my car-”

“I will drive you to work tomorrow, alright?” Dean watched as you began to tremble in the chilly weather. As Sam mentioned, you looked pretty tired. 

Dean felt his heart melt and sigh as he saw you shiver from the cold and appear exhausted. Even though he didn't mean to come across as so crude and distant, there was still an uneasiness between you that seemed impossible to get past.

“Fine.”

You continued to shake as you got in the car. You knew you were starving yourself to death when you heard the loud sound coming from your stomach. You had hardly had time for an adequate meal because you were so busy with work.

“You need to have dressed properly.” Dean softly remarked, “It's cold outside these days,” observing your attempts to sooth yourself by lightly massaging your bare arms.

You said in a whisper, “Yeah,” while Dean pressed a button to warm the car up. 

Your muscles gradually relaxed, and you began to feel much better as Dean drove. He turned his head to face you, giving you a little, pleased look after he heard your little satisfied sound. He liked it so much. “Relaxed now?”

Giving a quick nod to him, you muttered with a hint of gratitude in your voice. “Uhm, yes. Thanks.” 

Dean said, “So,” his gaze glued to the dimly illuminated road. “How long are you friends? You and him. You appeared to be really at ease with that guy.” 

“I think for four or five years. I find him to be a really caring and compassionate friend. I hadn't seen him in a very long time, so it was a surprise to see him, as he didn't give me a call in the first place.”

You were taken aback by Dean's attempts to have a polite, regular discussion with you. Your pulse beat with excitement and anticipation since it had been a long time since you had spoken to him in that way. All you wanted was for things to be normal between you two again. You might get by with less and normal if you are unable to have more. 

Prior to Dean addressing Robert and your friendship, you said, “Baby looks and smells amazing today. Have you just given her a wash?”

“She's a good girl all the time,” he remarked, chuckling. His hands around the steering wheel were more tightly now. “She needed to be clean and nice.”

You eagerly questioned, “Why did you come, by the way?” as the minutes ticked by in quiet. You wanted to make it seem like nothing occurred between you as well, and now it looked like a good moment to sort out things between you and him. 

“I decided to pick you up to avoid an accident after Sam warned me that you looked terrible. Are you hungry?” Dean wouldn't say 'no' to a pie right now.

“Actually, I'm starving,” you answered, sidestepping the comment Dean made regarding your appearance. You bet you did. 

“Alright.” Dean glanced at you and said, “I know a good restaurant,” in a rough voice, clearing his throat. 

Stating, “To be honest, I'm exhausted.” in a sorry tone, you waited for him to offer something else. You instantaneously forced the never-to-come-true visions away from your thoughts, even though you really wanted to go on a date with him. It wouldn't be a date, but it would be a nice moment. However, it would only get your situation worse.

“You wasted the opportunity. After that, you're going to eat anything Sammy orders.”

You smiled and responded, “I'm okay with that,” but you couldn't help but worr if Jo was still there.

Your face sank unintentionally, remembering the noises she'd made with Dean last night and how he'd been distant when you two chatted. You didn't want Dean and Jo's relationship to fail if it would harm Dean in any way, but you were unable to give up and were hoping that she wouldn't be around for tonight at the very least. Undoubtedly, your body was worn out, but your heart was spent beyond comprehension. 

Dean occasionally glanced at you, and thoughts of you and Robert were constantly racing through his head. He was thinking a lot of things at once—things that would make him see red, things that would make him angry, and things that would make Dean want to punch Robert in the face. 

“Have you slept with him?” unexpectedly Dean asked in a stern voice that made you stiffen in hurt and disgust.

Though he didn't want to sound so harsh and judgmental, Dean couldn't resist posing the question. He had to know the answer, even if he had no idea why.

You said, “What?” your heart thumping with pain. You never wanted to tell Dean that he was your one and only and how much you gave of yourself to him that night. “How could you ask such a question?”

Dean said, “It's a simple question,” as if he were defending himself. His attitude altered upon witnessing your expression transform to one of disappointment and rage. He wasn't sure if it was really necessary to get the answer. “Did you get fucked by him?”

You responded angrily, “He's my friend,” yet both of you stiffened at the words. Your body was filled with shame, and your heart ached from the burden. All you needed was Dean making no mention of wanting to cause you more damage. Wasn't it enough?

He said, “I am your friend too,” which made you tense up in your seat. “But things happen.”

You told him sternly, “You're being too much,” while doing your best not to seem pathetic or reveal how upset you were. “I can't believe you.” 

“Why are you not answering the question?” Again, he lost his temper. Dean noticed that his tolerance was wearing thin and that the pictures that were filling his mind were not helping the situation. He was aware that he shouldn't have said those things, but whatever. Fuck that. He wanted to know. He needed to know.

You snapped, “Of course not, Dean!” as a wave of rage overcame you. You wished he would have remained silent the entire way. Both of you should have stayed quiet.

Dean fought himself not to exhale in relief as a sensation of ease exploded in his heart. He didn't understand the significance of your connection with Robert or if it mattered if he really fucked you. However, the very idea was plenty to irritate him. You deserved better than this haughty, dumb man. It was such a simple question. That was it.

You didn't ask Dean whether he loved wounding your heart these days or why he was acting like an asshole. It pained your heart to see his suspicious look, even if you had no intention of telling him that he was your first to not ruin whatever you had from the beginning. If you told him the truth, you weren't sure how he would react. But knowing that he was still distant from you, you were unable to find the trust that you needed. You had no idea how he would react.

You said, “I want to go home,” in an icy tone, though you didn't actually mean it. You desired more time to be with him. It hurt so much to not be around him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you forced them back as your need for him reminded you of how pathetic you truly were to him.

He had an innate ability of ruining a nice moment just when you thought everything was going well. You realized that in order to stop him from hurting you, you needed to find a method to physically separate from him rather than cling to him. If nothing else, perhaps you could convey to him the meaning of his behavior and how easily his sharp words hurt you. Maybe someday.

“We're already-”

But you soon interrupted, saying, “My home.”

When he proposed that you have dinner at a restaurant, you should have accepted. Maybe you would chat about things that could break the ice between you, or even better, maybe you would find a way to bring up the young girl you took care of and her thoughts about love. Maybe he would act a little differently, acting more kind and cheerful rather than staring at you with rage. If only you had known which way to go to win him over, so much may have been different.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Please, let me know what you think about this one. I hope you like it. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! They keep me going. ^^

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[demonic0angel]

"If you give me a prompt I'll write it 😈" - Aight Bet.

Danny didn't expect his sister to have a pen pal, she said it's someone from nanda Parbat?? Danny doesn't know where the Fuck that is but everytime he sees the letter that was sent(those are some fancy lookin envelopes) he could feel rancid Ectoplasm lingering around them.

Jazz has already noticed but took no caution about it, Jazz said that she had a son, her name was Talia (No Mentioned Last name) and she was a very odd woman.

Danny listened to Jazz ramble on about her new "friend", Her son Damian which her pen pal had talked about and even sent a drawing of(how fancy). Danny WOULD investigate and dig deep into it since he's the ghost king and all but jazz explicitly told him not to.

....

Meanwhile, Jazz plans to meet her 'Penpal Friend' soon. She's very excited but still cautious, The way her friend talked about her situations was... Concerning to say the least and jazz shall use her psychiatrical expertise to help her!

[Danny is very concerned, Dan is Very Concerned 2.0, Dani says "Yuri."]

-A.E. 👻

(I’m gonna change the context of your ask a little so Jazz already knows Talia’s identity before she meets her again in person. Also, this got really long lmaooo)

Talia gave her a small nod when she saw her. She lifted her head to meet Jazz’s gaze as Jazz gave her a dazzling smile.

“Hello, Talia,” Jazz said, pushing her hair behind her ears. “You look lovely.”

Talia avoided her gaze and just hummed. She cleared her throat lightly and then said, gesturing to the hallway, “This way.”

Jazz followed her at a set pace and said, “It’s good seeing you again. How are you? Did you enjoy the candy I shipped over?”

Talia nodded. “Yes. I gave them to my son and he enjoyed them. Thank you very much.”

Jazz beamed. She did not ask the burning question in her heart. Was Talia alright? Her letters to her had become less and less frequent in the past year before the most recent message to her had been a barely disguised begging for Jazz to come see her.

Jazz didn’t mind; she loved seeing Talia, who was startlingly dangerous and hauntingly beautiful, but it still worried her. Talia was a strong woman, but she wasn’t invincible, even with that pool of rancid ectoplasmic bath water. (She shuddered just thinking about it. She needed to ask Danny to wipe them out before Talia could hurt herself again using them.)

“Where are we going?” Jazz asked, glancing around. They were inside of a nice, expensive looking condo in Spain.

Talia paused in front of a door. She hesitated before she said slowly, “Jazz… I have valued your friendship greatly. In the last few years, you have become someone very dear to me. However, as you are already aware, I am in a dangerous position in my home. I do not wish to endanger you, especially since you are a civilian. If you do not wish to take this journey with me, then… you should turn around now.”

Jazz chuckled. How cute that Talia thought that Jazz was a helpless civilian. However, it had been Jazz who had accidentally enforced that idea within Talia’s mind. It was a little too late to correct that notion though, so Jazz just shook her head softly and tried to look reassuring for Talia.

“It’s too late for that.” She reached out to hold Talia’s hand, scarred and weathered from fighting, squeezing slightly. “I will accompany you and help you however I can.”

Talia nodded again, looking away. “Thank you… beloved.”

Jazz tilted her head curiously at the title, but did not say a word. Talia then opened the door and Jazz’s eyebrows rose as she stared at a young boy with similar features to the woman beside her. He scowled at her, but it just looked cute with his round cheeks.

Jazz turned to Talia. She already had an inkling, but she wanted to confirm. “This is…?”

“My son,” Talia said, “His name is Damian. And I earnestly beg you to take him in for me.”

“What! But mother!” Damian stood up and shouted, while Jazz’s eyebrows shot up again.

Talia gave him a light glare. She turned back to Jazz and it was cute how she had to look up at her. “My father is increasing pressure on us, and he is training Damian even harder. If this continues, Damian’s life could be in danger. I would’ve left him with his father, but Bruce’s lifestyle is… not what I want for Damian. Please, could you take him in, beloved?”

Damian shut his mouth with a click and both Al Ghuls stared at Jazz with wide eyes, one beseeching and one shocked.

Jazz smiled and reached out to hold Talia’s hand again. It was really nice to hold, and warm too. “Of course. You don’t have to worry, Talia. Like I’ve said, you can depend on me.”

Talia beamed. “Thank you, beloved.” She flipped Jazz’s hand and kissed the back of it softly. Jazz blushed. It felt strangely… intimate? But who was Jazz to judge? Maybe it was a League of Assassins custom! Or something! She didn’t get to meet Talia often, usually just exchanging weekly letters, so how would she know?

Talia turned back to Damian, still holding Jazz’s hand and said, “She will be your new caretaker. She is very important to me and you can trust her with your life. Call her… mom.”

Jazz side eyed Talia, but did not dispute it. Maybe it was some sort of spy plan? Like a code name? It would make more sense when a woman and a young boy were together for them to be mother and son.

Jazz also turned to Damian and let go of Talia’s hand to walk over to him slowly, keeping an open posture and friendly smile on her face.

Damian eyed Jazz as she approached and then knelt down respectfully before him. She smiled. “Hello, Damian. I’m Jazz, and I hope we can get along.”

Damian looked at his mother. They had some sort of silent conversation that Jazz did not understand, before Damian turned back to her. “Yes… it’s nice to meet you too… mom.”

Jazz smiled. “I’ll take care of you.”

Damian sniffed. “I certainly hope so.” He tried to look haughty, but he was so short compared to Jazz that it once again looked adorable and pouty.

Yep. It was official. Her siblings were going to eat him alive.

Jazz looked back at Talia, who was staring at them both with a soft expression. Strangely, the gentle look made Jazz’s stomach flutter.

Weird. Was she growing sick?

Talia blinked, noticing her gaze. “Is there something wrong, beloved?”

Jazz coughed at the nickname again. Damian eyed her like she was a walking disease and Talia just looked more and more worried. “Nope! So, uh, what’s the official plan?”

She stared at Talia, who just blinked and hummed, pursing her red, kissable lips.

Yep. Definitely sick.

(Talia: Heh! Cool, calm, and collected, with a dash of vulnerability! I’m definitely showing my best side to my beloved, Jazz! She’s so much better than that emotionally constipated Bruce!

Jazz: *completely and utterly oblivious to any advances made by another woman* Wow, Talia is so pretty today too. Surely, it is normal to want to hold hands and kiss another girl because she’s so pretty 😃 I wonder why she wants her kid to call me mom? 😃

Damian: …. Two moms? Is this my birthday?)

[the-sinful-voice-witch]

Stephanie Brown and Damian Wayne

Damian's drawing of people who loves him personally offended me when i saw the lack of Talia (but fucking Ra was there! So ridiculously absurd), Duke, Jason and more importantly in my opinion the lack of STEPHANIE BROWN! Barbara and Rose Wilson never had the bond he had with Stephanie not even Cassandra and im specially Salty about Maya because all the fuss about the "adoptive sister" That showed up right in the messed up new 52 as if Stephanie wasn't literally the fucking first big sister figure he had, this is so insulting giving the fact that STEPHANIE WAS HIS BATGIRL:

The Batman's no-daughter and Damian first big sister, Steph is a Bat member that is placed along Batman's children but she was never adopted and we could say she is kinda in the same position as Barbara, they can only become official daughters if they become daughters in law.

I firmly believe that Damian can't be placed along all the people that personally wronged Stephanie because... Damian has been an arrogant jerk with absolutely every hero he has met, he looked down on his own father at first, the fucking Batman! So he literally didn't discriminate Stephanie, because even if he tried to insult her saying he was disappointed to see she wasn't Cassandra, when he actually met Cassandra he tried to undermine her as well so to me that comparation doesn't have the same weight as when she was constantly compared to other heroes by other certain characters.

The little time they had together in the Batgirl run was way too precious, the teasing and the banter and how they worked together was so good! Stephanie was so good to him! She got him to be able to behave like a kid because she noticed he didn't even know how to play, she got him to play with him in a bouncing castle, she wanted him to smile, they worked together to save Dicks Batman and i always laugh when Damian teases her about "not having a big chest", Damian dear you were so fixated on that for no reason... Maybe Steph was also his first platonic crush... I think the second was Supergirl 😂😂.

(I miss them when they were like this... I miss them everyday 😭😭😭😭)

DCeased wasn't exactly one of my favorite comics regarding plot but it has a special place in my heart for being currently the only alternative universe that represented this sibling relationship as it was always meant to be until the disappointing death that was supposed to be solved by Talia and never happened as if they forgot.

That universe gave us a beautiful present and that was the very first time someone (wonder girl Cassie) officially acknowledged Stephanie as Damians big sister and not to mention the hug! 🥺🥺🥺 he actually let himself being comforted in her arms and hugged her back, when he saw her he even called her "Steph" Not "Brown" Or "Spoiler/Batgirl" and oh my god she became his Robin 🥲 and to me she is just the perfect Robin to his Batman after all... She was also the Batgirl to his Robin.

Another thing i want to point out, when Alfred was murdered Dick still didn't have all his memories, Jason was just too angry and Tim didn't do much, Barbara isn't that close to Damian so I think they totally should have used Stephanie here, Damian really could have used a big sister... Again wasting her character but I guess they wanted to use only the closest people to Alfred and sadly it looks like Steph isn't one... But she is an important person to Damian no matter how much DC wants to erase her, she will never dissapear! I can't believe Barbara and Rose Wilson and that pop out of nowhere post new 52 Maya are in that drawing of people who makes Damian feel loved BUT NOT STEPHANIE!! Even the horrible RA is there?! But not his mother or HIS FIRST AND IN MY OPINION BEST BIG SISTER FIGURE STEPHANIE!!! DC YOU HAVE A LOT TO ATONE FOR 😤😤😤😠😠😠😠

Fortunately the author of the webtoon family Wayne adventures has a better understanding of this and gave us the precious moments they deserve:

In my head this is Stephanie with her 3 best boys, the ex, the little platonic brother that might had or might not had a platonic crush on her and who i think is her very soulmate ❤💜

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

Lord Jon and Prince Damian is a funny combination because just imagine Clark never managed to conquer all earth because magic and magic user, Talia basically built a huge kingdom to protect her people from the Lords and also accepts some others who are fleeing.

Years past and Jon has always been curious about that place and laughs when he faces Talia's youngest soldiers. He falls in love deeply hard about that boy with green eyes, then Jon starts to try to seduce that cute and smol boy (and Damian hates him deeply)

Just imagine:

Jon: *throws a body at his door like a cat*

Damian: ... Some guys bring flowers

Jon: I'm not 'some guy'

And also

J: "i've killed for you. how many other people can say that?"

D: "... Multiple, actually"

Basically: Lord Jon's love language is being annoying

Took me a while to figure out how I'd write the Super Lords, but eventually I was inspired by another work. I might write a sequel to this but we'll see. Fic under the cut.

Jon was scrolling on his phone, looking to find people talking negatively about him or his father so he could send them death threats. He could probably find them easily and make good on those threats, but then he'd have to get up, and he was comfortable where he was. He was getting a little peckish though, so he might run through a couple if he got up to eat.

His dad came into the room looking flawless. “Jon.”

“Hey dad, can you get me something to eat?”

“What? No. Get it yourself, or better yet, ask Kelex.”

“I thought you took away my voice commands after I killed the wrong general last week.”

“Oh, right. Have the knowledge crystals not taught you how to hack yet?”

Jon groaned ”I hate the knowledge crystals dad, they take so much time. I don't see the point in them.”

“The point is they would teach you how to solve problems, like how to reinstate your voice commands in Kelex’s code. Now get up, I have something important for you to do.”

Jon got up and stretched. “Oh I'm way hungrier than I thought. Hold that thought, Dad.”

“Jona–” Kal started sternly as a gust of wind blew past him. He could hear Jon ferociously consuming junk food from the pantry in superspeed. When he was done, he ran back up to his dad.

“Hey Dad, I'm back. What's up?”

“What do you know about Talia Al Ghul?”

“Oh that's easy. She's like, your archnemesis. Her family's got really strong magic so she can kill us if she gets close enough. She controls the last stronghold of human resistance. She's older than you so she's, what, a million?” He grinned cheekily “Just kidding, Dad. You don't look a day over 500.” He laughed. “Kidding! You should see the look on your face.”

“Jon, I'm being serious here.”

“‘kay.”

“She's just crowned her heir, Prince Damian. He's your age.”

“Oh?”

“He's an even more powerful mage than his mother, and trained in martial arts. He is a serious threat, one that needs to be neutralized.”

“Ok, but how am I gonna do that? You said he's more powerful than his mom, and you can't kill her.”

“He takes his group of soldiers into the Himalayas every month to train privately. I want you to ambush them.”

“Kill them, right? How do you want them dead?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“Alright. I'll be right back.”

Kal grabbed his arm and dug his fingers in hard enough to bruise. “You could die today, Jon. Take this seriously. Run away if you need to. You're no good to me dead.”

Jon nodded. “Got it.”

Jon flew to the mountains and looked for them with his heat vision. He found them fighting each other and flew down and started snapping the neck of the closest person to him. Unfortunately, this was slow enough to draw alarm from the other assassins, who all knew magical attacks. Still, Jon was quick and he fought dirty, letting out a deafening shout and causing an avalanche. The teens fought him with martial arts married with magic, sacrificing their lives so that the final assassin could defeat Jon and place him in magical bindings.

He spat blood. “You're lucky they can be brought back to life, or I wouldn't have spared yours.”

“I didn't ask you to. But thank you– not for sparing my life, but for beating me. I've never lost before. It was exhilarating! Can you do it again?”

The boy looked at him strangely. “What?”

Jon grinned manically. “You're a great fighter. I want you to defeat me again. And again and again until I get bored. What's your name? I never even lose to my dad.”

“... I am prince Damian Al Ghul.”

“Oh no way! I came here to kill you! Well, I'm not doing that anymore.”

“Clearly not.” Damian said, gesturing to the chains around him.

“Oh no, not cuz of that. I meant cuz like–” Jon cut himself off as Damian took off his mask and piercing green eyes met his own. “Wow, you're really pretty. I've never seen anyone as pretty as you in my whole life. Definitely not prettier. I think I was saying something?”

Damian blushed. “Tt. You were saying why you're not going to kill me.”

“I think I'm in love with you.”

“What?!” Damian squeaked.

“That was so cute! You're so cute! You're so small you look like you'd fit just right in my arms!”

“Go back to the ‘I love you’ part because I'm not understanding!” He shouted.

“I'll say it as many times as you want! I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoui–”

“Stop! You can't love me, you just met me, and your dad is superman!”

“Um, I'm pretty sure I can. Love at first sight is a thing, and I've known you for longer than that already.”

“So what, just because you think I'm pretty and I beat you for the first time, you're in love with me?”

“Is that not enough? Ok well, I really like the color of your eyes, and you're really powerful, and you make me feel so many feelings I have never felt before! Fear, excitement, curiosity, admiration, respect, awe, happiness, arousal–”

“Stop talking.”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

“That's talking.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Still talking.”

“I don't know how you want me to stop talking if you keep talking to me. Oh but uh, don't stop, I like it.”

Damian facepalmed. “I'm taking you back to my mother.”

“Oh I hope she doesn't decide to kill me after you went through the trouble of sparing me, that would be really embarrassing for you.”

Damian was quiet for a few minutes. “...You've never felt curious? Or excited, or afraid or happy? Really?”

Jon shrugged. “Maybe once. But nowadays I'm always either bored or bloodthirsty. Except right now, I'm neither. You're the most interesting person I've ever met and I just killed 5 people. That's like, 1 more than I usually do in a day.”

Damian set his jaw hard. “Why do you kill so many people?”

“Why do you think, assassin Prince? To feel alive.”

“...Who do you usually kill?”

“Dissidents and criminals. My dad's okay if they're dissidents or criminals. There's not, like, a ton of those out there anymore, though, so I've taken to scrolling back really far on Twitter. Oh, and jaywalkers.”

“Tt. Typical.”

“Who do you usually kill?”

“Political enemies, soldiers, criminals.”

“I guess everyone's a political enemy when they're aligned with us and not you. That's a lot more people you can kill. I kinda wanna join your side now.”

“We don't kill frivolously.”

“Why not?”

“Because we value human life.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Why does your father care about order if not to preserve human life?”

Jon laughed. “My dad doesn't care about humans! He just wanted to tidy things up. He gets mad when I kill other people because it messes with his system. It's one of those dumb parent rules, like keeping your socks in the sock drawer, or cleaning the fortress on Sundays even though we have robot servants.”

“... You're completely insane.”

“Do you want me not to be?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I want you to get what you want! You deserve to get anything you want, way more than my dad does. I bet you could with your magic! Cast a spell on me, make me sane for you. If you want that, I want it.”

“It's Jonathan, isn't it?”

“Yeah, or you can call me Jon. Or you know, whatever you want. Even if it's mean, I can take it.”

“...Jonathan. I don't want to take your agency away with my magic. That wouldn't be right.”

Jon shrugged against his chains. “If you say so, my prince.” Damian was quiet for a while, and Jon slipped free of his chains to help Damian cart back all of the bodies. “You should let me carry this.”

“What– Jon?! How did you escape my bindings?”

“Magic interacts completely unpredictably with me.”

“I don't– why are you even still here?”

“Why would I leave? It's not as if there's anything more interesting on TV. Twitter says all the shows are boring cuz of Dad. Well, you know, the dead side of Twitter. God do you know how perfect you look? From every angle?”

“Jon, I think you should just leave.”

“Well, my dad is expecting me home soon. What do you think I should tell him about you not being dead?”

“... Is he going to hurt you if you go back?”

Jon shrugged. “If I let him. Which I probably will, so I don't get grounded. But I might be grounded anyway since this meant a lot to him. If I don't get grounded, can I see you again?”

“It's best if you don't.”

“I'm going to be honest, I don't like that answer. If you want me to stay away you'll have to use your magic to harm me.”

“Tt. Do you have a death wish?”

“No. My biggest wish is for you to spar with me and win.”

“What if I lose?”

“Then we'll go again until you win.”

“...Hm. You're very… persistent.”

Jon grinned. “Thanks. Wow, it feels really good when you compliment me. Do it again.”

“Um… you have really unique eyes?”

Jon beamed. “This is great, keep going!”

Damian blushed. “I'd rather not.”

Jon pouted. “Pleeeeaaase? I'll do anything.”

“Will you go home?”

“Fine, yes, after… 3 more compliments. Then I'll go home, for now.”

“Tt. Your curls look very nice, your hair makes a nice contrast against your skin tone and you– ah… you… that is, you're very strong.”

“I already knew that last one.”

“I meant muscular.”

“That's not a compliment, that's just a fact.”

Damian’s ears burned. “...I like it. I like that about you. I like that you're muscular. It looks… visually appealing.”

“Oh, I'm definitely in love with you. I'd love to stay and compliment you back, but I said I'd leave, and I want you to trust me! If you ever need me, or just want me, all you have to do is call. I'll come.”

Jon flew back home. “Dad? I ambushed him, caused an avalanche, and killed his squad, but he still beat me.” Jon called out.

Kal walked out to see his son. “You look unharmed. Why did he let you go?”

“Honestly? I think I annoyed him too much. But I'm going back tomorrow.”

“I see… an ambush didn't work, so you'll have to gain his trust and then betray him. I was going to punish you but your tenacity and cunning deserve a reward, so it is simpler to do nothing.

“Oh, yeah, psh, that's totally why I want to go back. I totally want to murder him in cold blood. I mean, you know how much I love murder.”

Kal frowned. “I do know. It gets in the way of your studies. However, this time I approve.”

“‘kay. Thanks. See ya.” He went back to his room to watch Damian with his X-ray vision.

The next day, Jon went to Nanda Parbat and watched Damian from the sky, waiting until he was alone to approach him.

Damian’s hair was slicked back with sweat and he was flushed and panting.

“Prince Damian. You look somehow even more incredible than last time.”

“Spare me the mockery.”

“What? I'm not mocking you. The way your skin flushes and glistens is as enchanting as any of your spells, my lord.”

“Hn. You know most humans find sweat repulsive?”

“I'm only half human. Also, you smell great. Musky. Can I lick you?”

“Definitely not.” Jon pouted. “Do you want something?”

“Yeah. Can we spar?”

“After lunch. Would you like to dine with me?”

“Can I? Won't the servants see me?”

“I cook for myself.”

Jon gasped. “I get to try your cooking?! Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air.

Damian chuckled good naturedly.

Jon leaned against the island as Damian cooked. “What did your dad say about you failing to kill me?”

“Oh I told him I was going back today and he thought I meant that I was going to gain your trust to kill you.” Damian stiffened. “So I'm going to let him think that so I can spend more time with you.”

“Try this.” Damian said, handing Jon a spoonful of sauce. Jon tasted it.

“Hm, that's pretty good! I've never had this before.”

Damian tasted it himself and nodded. “It is good.”

Jon ate at his usual impatient pace and spent the rest of the meal talking at Damian.

“Alright, Superboy, follow me.”

“Anywhere.”

“Tt.” Damian led him to the training courtyard. “Here we are. Remember to be quiet.”

Jon rushed to tackle Damian but he predicted it and dodged, casting a spell to slow down Jon’s movements. It was a lot stronger than the spell Damian intended to cast, and he moved like a sloth. “Wow prince…” he began as Damian took his time pinning Jon to the ground and immobilizing him with a spell. The first spell wore off quicker than expected. “...Damian you're so fast! Oh, it's already over!” Jon giggled. “You did even better this time! I suppose it's to be expected since it wasn't an ambush. You're really impressive…” Jon sighed dreamily, looking up into Damian’s eyes with a lovestruck gaze.

Damian coughed and looked away. “...You wanted me to beat you. Did you go easy on me?”

“I can honestly say that didn't even occur to me. I don't know why I would do that. Would it have made you happy?”

“Hell no. It would have made me angry.”

Jon smiled. “I'd like to see you angry. Maybe I will next time. Though I don't know if you'd even notice, considering how well you beat me this time.”

Damian looked confused. “Why would you want me to be angry?”

Jon raised a brow. “‘Cause I wanna see how you look when you're angry. I've never seen it before. I wonder if it would make me angry, too. I never get angry anymore.”

“You're… impossible.”

Jon grinned toothily. “Is that a good thing?”

“... I haven't decided.” Damian got off of Jon, much to the younger teen’s disappointment, and did a nullification spell on Jon before helping him up. Jon smirked and flipped Damian over his shoulder as he stood, but Damian landed on his feet and cast a sleeping spell on Jon. He woke him up with a water spell, sitting on his chest.

“You got me again! I love you.”

“You're weird.”

“Is that bad?”

“I haven't decided.”

Jon smiled, crinkling his eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Damian laughed. “Sure. I've not even worked up a sweat yet.”

The next time he came to Nanda Parbat he threw down a corpse in front of Damian, face still splattered in blood.

Damian sighed. “Most guys bring flowers.”

“I'm not ‘most guys’”

“Who was he?”

“He criticized your looks so I killed him for you.”

“Jon, I don't care what anyone says about me.”

Jon's eyes flashed red. “I care that he said that. Now he can't say anything like it ever again. What do you think of my technique?”

“Messy, but efficient.”

Jon smiled “Thank you. Do you want to spar?”

“Jon it's 11:38 at night.”

“... Is that a problem?”

“I was sleeping.”

“Oh. Can I join you?”

“Tt. No. Go home.”

Jon pouted. Damian held firm.

“Okay. I'll miss you.”

“Tt. You say such embarrassing things. Goodnight.”

Jon smiled, then quickly leaned in to kiss Damian’s cheek. “Good night, my love.”

Damian slammed the door in his face.

It became somewhat of a pattern for Jon to ambush Damian when he went out on missions, and Damian learned to expect it. Jon was getting faster at killing Damian’s compliment.

“I killed them, so we can be alone!” Jon said cheerfully, gently touching Damian’s cheeks with his bloody fingers and looking at him adoringly.

“Jon. Keep your hands to yourself before I cut them off.” He said, drawing his rune-encrusted sword slightly out of the scabbard.

Jon pouted but removed his hands. “As you wish, my lord. So, what are you out here for today?”

“I was planning on retrieving a magical relic from a temple to the east of here, until you showed up. You’re like a gnat.”

“I can get it for you!”

“Tt, I’m sure you can’t, there are magical booby traps.”

Jon pouted. “I want to do this for you. Please?”

“Jon, I am certain that if you were deathly injured my mother would not permit me to put your body in the lazarus pit.”

“Not even if I died saving your life?”

“Likely not. I shouldn't even be talking to you, you are the enemy.”

Jon grinned. “I guess we both like to do whatever we want.”

“It is human nature to desire freedom.”

“Well yeah but I'm not human.”

“You are as human as you are kryptonian. I wonder, did your father have the same disregard for your mother as with the rest of humanity?”

“I dunno. I was cloned from her dead body and my dad. I never saw them interact. But I know he loved her, and I know he misses her. He's told me it's the only reason he puts up with me.”

“It does not sound like you are very close.”

“We aren't. But he's the only other kryptonian other than Kara Zor-el so y'know, he's important. Not as important as you, of course, but he was previously the most important person in my life.”

“We're here. Don't follow me.”

Jon floated after him. “But I wanna keep you safe! Let me carry you.”

“No– Jon, put me down!”

Jon grinned and flew Damian in. “What's it look like? I can look through the walls for you.”

“Unneeded, I have a map.”

Jon swiped the map from him and read it. “I have a great sense of direction, don't worry.”

“You are infuriating.”

“We cause strong emotions in each other~ how lovely. Okay, hold tight.”

Jon flew quickly down the halls, before being knocked into the wall by a magical hammer. Damian rolled off of him as Jon groaned in pain. “You idiot. Where are we?”

Jon grunted and pointed to their location on the map.

“I can’t even cast a healing spell on you as I have no idea how it will effect you.”

“Don't worry… I have super healing… so the side that hit the wall will be fine. The wall isn't magic, right?”

Damian checked. “Luckily for you, it is regular stone.”

Jon grinned. “Help me up? I wanna help you finish this.”

“It's a bad idea. We need to get you out of here.”

Jon shook his head. “I'm not going. I'll be right behind you. You can handle the magic traps, and I can fly in front of an arrow for you or something.”

“And what if it's a magical arrow?”

“I'll die for you. Did I not mention that?”

“Tt. You're dangerous to have around. But if you're not leaving…” Damian got out a rope and tied them together by their waists with a length of rope in between them. “Stick close to me.”

Jon floated to his feet. “Mkay. Let's go!”

Damian sighed and pulled along a floating Jon. He disabled the traps as they went until they reached the chamber with the artifact. Damian picked it up and the room shook with a deep voice.

“To get out of trouble, face your double. Return the staff to the rack and it will end the attack.”

Smoke billowed out of the air vents and coalesced into shadow versions of Jon and Damian. Damian sighed and took out his katana.

Jon and Damian fought back to back as their shadow versions worked independently. Damian took out his double and Jon defeated his own. The smoke dissipated and Jon cheered.

“We did it! That was awesome! They didn’t stand a chance against our teamwork! Imagine if you came in here with your whole squad! That would have been so much chaos, I really did you a favor by killing them.”

Damian growled and pressed his sword to Jon’s throat, backing him up against the wall. “No. Killing.”

“Mhn, so it's fine if you kill me but not if I kill your squad, who as we've previously established can come back to life whereas I will not?”

“I will kill you if I have to.”

“I would expect nothing less, my prince.” Jon smiled slightly. “So this is what you look like when you're angry. I love the intensity in your eyes.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Are you really trying to de-escalate the situation by flirting?”

Jon shook his head as much as he could. “Just saying what I think, my lord. And I think you look beautiful.”

Damian sighed and withdrew his blade. “You're an idiot.”

Jon smiled cheerily and let Damian drag him along by the rope still attached to his waist. Damian escorted Jon back to the entrance of the temple and cut the rope. “You need to stop killing my team every time I leave the palace. It makes me look incompetent.”

“Do you get in trouble?”

“Not exactly, no–”

“Then it's fine!”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen to me carefully. I am telling you that I want you to stop killing my team. Did you not say that I deserve to get what I want?”

“You're turning my words against me! I just want to be with you. Your assassins would never allow it. If I don't defeat them, I'll die.” Jon whined.

“Then learn non-lethal techniques of taking people down. Practice on those criminals or whatever.”

“You want me to… not kill a criminal?”

“Yes.”

“I can try… can I still be violent?”

“I would appreciate it if you did not scar my team too badly. But outside of that, you can be as brutal as you like as long as they do not die.”

“Okay. I will practice not killing and come back to you. Farewell, my prince.”

“Farewell, lord Jonathan.” Damian said as Jon lifted off into the sky, the cut rope rippling in the wind with his cape.

Jon stormed through the palace towards Damian, knocking people out of the way like flies. “Prince Damian! I came back, as I said I would.”

“Yes, I can see that. Are you here to kill more of my people? You know I cannot allow that, Lord Jonathan.”

Jon cocked his head. “Why would I do that? I don’t care about humans.”

Damian quirked a brow. “I am human.”

“You’re better than everyone else, though.”

“Is that so?”

Jon giggled. “Yeah, I think you could even kill me if you tried. That’s so hot. Look at you, not attacking me right now… so romantic...” Jon sighed.

Damian tutted. “I’m beginning to regret that.”

Jon giggled. “Some days I think I love you so much I'd just let you. Would you like me to do that? Or would you want a fight?” He came closer.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A genuine one. Oh… If I tried to kill you, I hope you’d try to kill me too… maybe we could die at the same time. If I am going to die, I want it to be by your hand. And no one else deserves to take your life away but me, and only if you asked me to.” He giggled, twirling his hair. “I really like having you around, so you would have to convince me first, or else I wouldn’t even let you kill yourself.” Jon hummed. “But I don’t see you convincing me that this world is so terrible as to deserve to be ridden of such beauty.” He stroked Damian’s cheek with a gloved hand, and Damian smacked it away. Jon sighed. “I love you.”

“You don’t know what love means. Your father never showed you.”

“I don’t? Well then, you’ll have to teach me. No one else will do.”

Damian tutted, before sighing as if greatly put upon and offering his ring for Jon to kiss. He did so gladly, kneeling at his feet.

“My prince.” Jon held Damian’s hand by the wrist and turned it over so he could nuzzle into his palm. Damian allowed it. Jon locked his violet eyes on Damian’s emerald ones. He kissed his fingertips one by one.

“You are so devoted to me. It’s perplexing.”

Jon kissed his wrist. “It’s simple; the whole earth should bow to you. You are perfection. Every moment you spend with me is pure gold; my greatest treasures.Or maybe it is that I can take anything in the world that I want, except for you. You are the only thing I could ever rightfully earn. The only goal worth pursuing. Everything was meaningless and dull until I met you, my Prince.”

Damian cupped his cheek. “And what if you got me? What then? Do you truly believe that to be love?”

“I would work to keep you and to serve you, to make you happy.” He smiled. “To annoy you, to pester you, to laugh with you, to see you cry. To hold you. To learn everything there is to know about you until you’ve changed so much that I have to learn you all over again.” He sniffed Damian’s wrist, at the cologne there, and deeper at all the smells that made up Damian. “Intoxicating.” Jon puffed out a laugh. “I don’t know what love is supposed to be like. Have I got it wrong? Do you think it matters? I ask out of curiosity, ‘cause even if it were really something completely morally unacceptable to you, I wouldn't care. It feels better than anything ever has. It’s what I live for.”

Damian’s lips parted in surprise. He schooled his features to ask his next question. “How many people have you killed since I last saw you?”

“None.” Jon smiled. “I’m learning, see? I can do better. I must be of some use to you, haven’t I?”

Damian got a strange look in his eye just then, and Jon became excited at the prospect of learning that expression. “Get up.”

Jon wilted. “Have I offended you, my Prince?”

Damian shook his head. “Stand up. Don’t. Float.”

Jon bowed his head obediently and stood up. Damian stepped close and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder, pulling him down into a slow and gentle kiss. Jon did not know his heart could race so fast. Damian pulled away with an unreadable look in his eye. “Alright, Jon. I accept. I will teach you how to love.”

Jon beamed. “Oh, this is so much better than murder.” He whispered.

Damian smirked. “It is, isn’t it? A lot of things are.” Damian took his hand off of Jon’s shoulder and put both behind his own back.

“Could you excuse me for just one moment? I feel the urge to go fly.”

Damian nodded, and Jon flew off, laughing brightly like a child.

Jon returned a moment later. “I love you! It feels so triumphant!” Jon gasped. “Does this mean we are dating? Boyfriends?!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes. My mother will not be pleased.”

“I can kill her for you, if you wan’t.”

Damian glared at him. “No. No Killing.”

Jon looked at him for a long time. “Okay… Okay. But if someone tries to kill you, I won’t spare them. Even if you get mad at me. Even if you don’t believe my explanation. Even if you can take care of yourself. I promise, I won’t let you die.”

Damian scowled. “Just…kiss me, you idiot.”

Jon flew to his side in an instant, but was much more apprehensive about actually kissing him, so Damian grabbed his head and dragged their mouths together. Jon purred and pulled him closer. Damian nibbled on Jon’s bottom lip and he gasped. “Damian!”

“Yes?”

“You’ve done this before! And I can’t kill whoever you did it with!”

“You don’t have worry, they are already dead.”

“Woah, do you kill people instead of breaking up with them?”

“Tt, no. They betrayed me. I made an example of them.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine killing you if you betrayed me.”

“Hm. I can’t say it was pleasant, but— we are supposed to be kissing right now, Jonathan.” He pulled him in for a few more smooches.

“Is this part of learning how to love?” Jon asked dazedly.

“No, this is for me. I’m just glad I found a way to shut you up.”

“Dami! That’s–” More kissing. “That’s mean. I love it when you’re mean to me.”

They had their arms wrapped around each other by now. Damian rubbed between Jon’s shoulder blades. “You really shouldn’t.”

“Nobody is ever mean to me but you! How could I not like it? I love when you give me attention.”

“To have everyone afraid of you, your whole life… Let’s change that, hm? You are terrifying in the way that you move, talk, smile, laugh, and behave… But we should be able to change at least two of those.”

“Am I so scary, even to you?”

“No, not to me. You’re even… cute.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “No, why would it be?”

“My father always told me to stop acting so cute, that it was distracting.”

“Everything about you is distracting. You’re currently distracting me from my work. I didn’t think you cared.”

Jon smiled. “You’re right, I don’t. And like I said, you can be mean to me, as long as you don’t ignore me. Well, even if you tried to ignore me, I’d cover your eyes until you had to acknowledge me. Or… maybe I could bite you, like Krypto used to do when I was little and I’d ignore him. Hm… come to think of it, you did just say I was distracting, I’m sure there are lots of ways I could get your attention. I like being distracting.”

Damian arched a brow. “Surely you’ll allow me to get my work done.”

“Well, that’s not ignoring me ‘cause you’re mad! So it’s fine. I can just watch you.”

“Do you watch me when you leave?”

Jon nodded. “And I strain my ears to listen. I love the sound of your voice, my prince.”

“Oh Jonathan, your life cannot only be me. I want you to stay in the palace so I can show you other things you might find meaningful.”

“Like what?”

“Friendship, learning to cook, making art. Things that are worthwhile because of the struggle. I think you will enjoy pottery.”

“What's so interesting about making pots? Plenty of people can do that.”

“They can do it because they put in the work, and they are better than you at it. Don't you want to impress me with an excellent piece of pottery?”

“You would like it if I gave you something I made?”

“Jon, the only person who can make the art that you would make is you. If you do not make it, it will never be known. You can give me something no one else can.”

“Who cares? Everyone will say they love it so I don't singe their eyebrows off…”

Damian arched a brow. “I won't.”

Jon blushed and smiled at Damian. “That's right, you're not afraid to tell me what you think. You're my equal.”

“I may even decide to encourage you with kisses.”

Jon rumbled a purr. “I love you. I'm going to make you the best pot ever.”

Damian kissed him again. “Good. I eagerly await it.”

[bumblesimagines]

this wasn't supposed to happen.

i did a number on your back. sorry about that.

we should do that again sometime.

Fiona Gallagher

we should do that again sometime.

this wasn't supposed to happen.

i did a number on your back. sorry about that.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

As consciousness seeped into his body and his senses slowly awakened, he was hit with a few realizations that quickened the process of waking up. He couldn't hear Génesis babbling away in her crib nor the loud strays he often fed mewling for food outside. The springs in the mattress beneath him dug slightly into his skin and the smell of cheap booze and perfume lingering in the air invaded his nostrils. The mattress abruptly dipped slightly and strands of hair tickled his shoulder, startling the exhaustion fully out of his system.

The room around him was unfamiliar. The walls were covered in chipping paint, there were enough clothes on the floor to give to twenty people, random bottles of water and beer were sat about in different places, and there were odd stains on the barely visible rug. The chaos and mess of the room made his skin itch. (Y/N) exhaled quietly and tilted his head to look at the owner of the bedroom. Shit.

"I can't wait for ya'll to meet them. I swear, they are the kindest people in this whole city." (Y/N) hummed, absentmindedly listening to his cousin's girlfriend go on and on about their neighbors, the Gallagher family, as he raked his fingers through his eldest daughter's hair and detangled the small knots that had formed. Veronica held his other daughter at her hip, cooing and clicking her tongue to keep the toddler entertained whilst they made their way over to the tall house right next door. 

"V's right, (Y/N). You'll love 'em. Debs and Talia are gonna get along great." Kevin piped in and scrunched up his face at Génesis, a wide smile breaking out on his face when she burst into giggles and gleefully clapped her tiny hands together. Talia clutched her dolls close to her chest and tentatively peered up at the house when they entered through the front yard. 

"I bet Carl's going to be tripping over himself when he sees Talia." Veronica giggled and gently pinched one of Talia's reddened cheeks, listening to her boyfriend pound loudly on the front door until it swung open and a teen's freckled face greeted them. He looked between them all curiously and a fond smile appeared on his lips when he noticed the bundled-up toddler in Veronica's hands. 

"Hi, I'm Ian." He introduced himself a bit meekly and stuck out a lanky arm to shake (Y/N)'s hand before stepping back and allowing them to enter the house. The house seemed bigger with an archway connecting the living room to the kitchen and dining room. There were two staircases on opposite sides of the house leading up to the second story, nearly each step covered in toys and beer cans alike. It looked like a tornado had rampaged throughout the rooms but (Y/N) tried to contain his judgment and put on a smile for the family. Veronica had mentioned there was only a twenty-one-year-old managing all five of her younger siblings with their drunk father occasionally crashing on the couch. 

"Oh, a baby!" A little girl not much older than Talia squealed and sprang up from the couch, nearly trampling her brother in the process of reaching them and earning a swift glare. She jumped up onto her toes and smiled widely as she delicately ran her finger over the back of Génesis's hand, cooing softly and introducing herself. "Hi, baby. I'm Debbie." 

"Guys, I'd like you to meet (Y/N) and his daughters, Génesis and Talia. They're going to be stayin' with us next door for a little while so make them feel at home, alright?" Veronica called into the living room, barely drawing the other teenager and his little brother's attention away from the action movie playing on the television. She scoffed quietly and muttered under her breath before flashing the woman heading down the stairs a smile. The pretty brunette returned it and gasped softly at the sight of Génesis in her arms. 

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" She cooed warmly and chuckled sweetly at Debbie's fascination with the baby, one hand rising to comb back the hairs sticking out from Debbie's ponytail. He assumed she was Fiona Gallagher, the eldest daughter taking care of all the kids. Fiona was tall and slim, almost lanky like her brother but held a more at-ease air to herself than he did. The bags under her eyes were subtle, just barely noticeable, and her hair had been tied up into a messy ponytail that barely restrained the wavy locks. She looked up from Génesis and met his eyes. Her brows slightly lifted and her lips parted and closed, a hint of red spreading across her cheeks. 

"Nice to meet you, Fiona."

He'd promised himself before leaving Kentucky he'd stay in his lane, that he wouldn't involve himself with anyone again for a while. Talia's mother had been one thing, someone he couldn't bring himself to be resentful despite her refusal to be in their daughter's life. They'd been two naive fourteen-year-olds messing around who faced the consequences of not being more careful. Becoming involved with Génesis's mother, however, had been his fault. The lengthy criminal record and history of short relationships should've been big enough red flags to abort ship before they could be tied together permanently, but he'd ignored them and her own recklessness led to her incarceration. Two failed relationships, two motherless daughters. With his shit luck, he could only hope Fiona was on some sort of birth control.

"Fucking hell." He sighed heavily and rubbed his palm over his face, making vain attempts at ignoring the subtle throbbing in his temple. (Y/N) pushed himself up and swung his legs over the edge, picking his briefs up from the floor and slipping them on. Fiona groaned quietly behind him and he peered over his shoulder at her as she rubbed her eyes and stretched out across the small bed, the mattress beneath her creaking with each movement. 

"Jesus, I did a number on your back. Sorry about that." She chuckled and tucked some of her frizzy hair behind her ear a bit sheepishly. Fiona sat up and leaned back against the wall, one arm reaching out to rummage through the nightstand until she found a cigarette pack and pulled one out. Dangling one between her fingers in his direction, she said, "We should do that again sometime."

"No, Fiona, this wasn't supposed to happen. I- I have too much on my plate right now to deal with... whatever you want this to become. I don't need the girls getting confused either. I appreciate the warm welcome into the neighborhood but... for your sake and mine, we should just stay as neighbors."

[strwberri-milk]

Pretty in Pink

Rafayel x GN!Reader || Insecurity Comf || 1 640 words

additional tags: readers body is undefined but beautiful is used as a word to describe attractiveness once or twice

“Do we really need to go shopping?” you whine, wishing you could just drag your heels into the ground as the two of you approach the high-end department store Rafayel insisted you needed to visit today.

“Talia’s going to make fun of me if I can’t even spoil the love of my life a little bit,” he says simply, keeping his hand on yours as you rest it in the crook of his elbow.

The staff immediately recognise him, clamouring around him as they ask if he wants his jacket taken care of, if he needs his car washed then reparked. It seems whatever whim he has they’re more than desperate to fulfill it, watching him with equal parts adoration and envy. You’re still a little shy when it comes to the glamour that comes with being his partner, unsure where you stand. He simply glances at you and now the attention is being pushed onto you, so flustered Rafayel ends up having to direct the staff to your needs himself.

“You sure do shop here a lot, don’t you?” you say as the two of you settle in a private dressing room.

“Not really actually,” he says, sipping on some sort of sparkling drink. They offered champagne but he refused it, citing driving you home and his own tendency to be a lightweight.

“That’s why they’re so desperate. The commission they make off the outfits I buy for you today is going to set them for a while.”

“Outfits? Plural? I thought we were just doing a one and done,” you exclaim incredulously, feeling out of place with all the splendour of the store.

“Well, you hate shopping so I thought we could just knock it all off in one fell swoop. At least until you decide you want something new. Don’t worry about how much stuff costs – there’s no tags on anything.”

He’s so cavalier about the whole ordeal you have to think he was born rich. You really have no idea considering he hasn’t candidly talked about his childhood but the fact that he constantly takes you places with no price tags reminds you that money is just an object to him. Suddenly you feel insecure in the simple clothes you picked out for today, picking at a hem and shifting your feet uncomfortably. You thought you’d made the right choice when he said you were going shopping, thinking comfort and something easy to change in and out of would be the right choice.

“It won’t take too long,” he says, interrupting your train of thought. “You look beautiful in everything so I really doubt we’ll be unable to find something to you.”

You laugh awkwardly, now suddenly hyperaware of the way your body looks in the gilded mirror sat across from the two of you. Perhaps you should have opted for the dressing room that had a private changing area as well but Rafayel insisted that it’d be fine. He has seen every inch of you after all but something about this moment feels far too different.

“Maybe we should change rooms. I’ll go ask the attendant,” you say without warning, getting up and walking past him.

He takes the opportunity to pull you onto his lap, frowning at you.

“Why would we do that? This room is nice enough. Besides, they’ll be coming back soon enough with a bundle of clothes for you to try on. You don’t want to really inconvenience them so much by making them swap rooms?”

Logically, the room you want to change to is just next door. However, your need to please outweighs that sense of logic, biting on your bottom lip as you weigh the options over. Your turmoil isn’t missed by Rafayel and he brushes his lips against yours, making a soft humming noise to draw your attention back to him.

“Try it out for a little bit and then we can change if you really hate it, yeah?” he offers, not wanting to push you too far out of your comfort zone.

“…fine. But just because it’s you,” you pout, making no move to get out of his lap as the staff finally start filing in.

Your eyes go wide with the assortment of clothes they’ve chosen. Rafayel was practically barking orders at them earlier, giving them a list of cuts and colours and sizes for them to draw from. Clearly, they know what they’re doing as they’re able to draw a year’s worth of clothing from his instructions. They go through and show the two of you what goes with what, justifying their choices with some sort of fashion theory you barely manage to understand.

When you look over at Rafayel he looks like a kid in a candy shop. His eyes run over the racks of clothing, darting back and forth so quickly you’re sure he’s mentally cataloguing what pieces to swap with what to create new ensembles. You trust him wholly, aware he knows what he’s doing but you can’t help but wonder if the pieces will actually look good on you.

Once the staff finally leaves Rafayel happily pulls you over, selecting the first outfit he wants you to try on. Despite the fact that there was no reserved changing area he turns around and closes his eyes, insisting that he wants it to be a surprise.

You get dressed quickly, trying not to overthink the fabric sliding over your body. It’s uncomfortable and almost cumbersome but the thought of him smiling at you gets you through it. The quicker you get dressed the quicker this is all done and you can convince him to take you to the arcade as payment for torturing you so.

“I’m done,” you say hesitantly, still tugging at your clothes.

He turns around quickly, excited smile softening as soon as his eyes meet your form. His hands wander your body, brushing your hand off of your body as he replaces them, pulling you in by the waist.

“You look great,” he says affectionately, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I’d say we should stop here but considering how amazing you look in just this I can’t help but imagine you’d look in some of the other choices. I want to see how you look in something that’s more adventurous than just a suit jacket and some slacks. This is good enough for some boring donor event but not good enough for Talia’s show.”

You let him help you strip down before urging you into a more complicated array of fabrics. You don’t doubt that they look lovely but you doubt they have the desire effect when on your body, twisting and turning every which way when you stand in front of the mirror. A glimpse of him is caught in the reflection, still looking at you with that adoring look.

“Maybe this will take longer than I thought,” he sighs, pulling another outfit from the racks. “You do look great in anything you wear. How are we going to choose?”

An hour or two passes and the two of you finally come near to drawing a close on your try on haul. Rafayel somehow looks more exhausted than you do, laying back on the couch with an arm over his eyes. You’re finally back to the clothes you came in, more comfortable than before. All of them were lovely there was no contesting that but there was something that simply made them…less lovely.

He, on the other hand, seemed to adore you in everything. He constantly showered you in his attention, hands careful as they pick and preen at you. You can tell by the way his hands twitch that he wants to grab at you, pulling strings taut across your body and doing up buttons that you can’t quite reach.

“Just pick whatever you want me to wear to the event and I’ll be more than happy to wear it,” you sigh, leaning back on the couch with him.

“That’s just the problem. It all looks so good on you.”

He groans a little before finally standing up to talk to the staff. You can’t quite make out what they’re saying through the thick fabrics of the curtain, feeling a little antsy now that he’s gone. You perk up when he finally returns, watching as he returns to your side.

“It’ll take a bit of time but they’re going to wrap up everything for me. If it doesn’t all fit in the car then they’ll just mail to the house no problem.”

“You – did you buy all of them?!”

“You look great in all of them. I’ll just get a closet or something built for them all. Don’t worry about it.”

He notices your hesitance, taking your hand in his.

“What’s wrong? If you hate them all I’ll tell them I changed my mind.”

“It’s not that. It’s just…do you really think that?”

His brows furrow, looking at you in confusion.

“Think what?”

“That I look great in all those clothes. It feels like I’m putting on costume after costume,” you confide.

���You really think that? Weird. I think you look great in all of them.”

He pulls you over on his lap, admiring your face for a brief moment before kissing you passionately. His hands hold your hips in place as he continues to kiss you, gripping you so tightly you couldn’t move away if you even wanted to. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, gasping softly when he turns ravenous for your touch. His thumb comes up to the corner of your mouth, lightly pushing the two of you apart.

“All I could think about when I saw you was how lucky I am and how badly I wanted to kiss you,” he says dazedly, pressing another kiss to your lips.

[nightmare-foundation]

Please share thy Dick Grayson headcanons they sound very cool (I specifically saw posts about BPD and Damian parallels, but I'm excited to hear anything you've got to say)

Okay okay headcanon time 🙏

1. I have a pretty specific image in my head of how I imagine Dick. The closest example I can think of is how Bruno Redondo and Stephen Byrn both draw Dick in terms of body shape; broad shoulders, hourglass body, etc. Though I imagine his hair as thick and wavy/curly, his skin dark with a warm undertone (though he's been pretty pale a lot of his life thanks to the Gotham smog), and lots of scars. He has a pretty square face shape, like how Redondo draws him.

2. Speaking of scars, I headcanon Dick has a LOT of scars. Like, a shit ton of them. Scars leftover from Superwomans lasso, scars from the many times he's been restrained, the many times he's been stabbed/shot/slashed, from when he got shot in the head, etc. I imagine him with a scar on his mouth specifically, something he got from one of his stays in Arkham.

3. I actually mash up a lot of Dicks, and the Batfamilys in general, history from various eras, reboots, and even other media. So when I imagine a young teenage Dick, I typically imagine something similar to Teen Titans Robin! I also headcanon he was briefly Slades apprentice, like in the show, but this is separate from Renegade in the comics. Both things happened in my own timeline. Though, honestly, I need to watch Teen Titans...

4. Speaking of- I actually imagine that Damian looks almost exactly like Dick did at his age, but with different eye and hair color, and a slightly different chin shape. Though, once Damian is an adult, he'll look more like Talia. The resemblance Dick and Damian have is because Dick just so happens to look like Bruce, and Damian looks like Bruce too. It's a little weird, seeing how similar they look. On top of that, Damian is pretty similar in personality to young teenage Dick (13-14, Dick lightened up a bit later). Frankly, if you put those two in the same room together, you'd think they were blood related.

5. Dick struggles a LOT with his fears of failure and abandonment. It's partly because of his BPD (that i headcanon he has) and also from past experience. When he was still Robin, and somewhat later in his early Nightwing days, he was also terrified of being replaced. Dick feels an intense need to prove himself, to be good enough so that he's worthy of love, of being in the Batfamily. He very much sees his place in the family as something that isn't permanent, that isn't guaranteed. Prior to finding out about Jason, to being fired, he was very afraid of not being good enough and being replaced. And, well, we all know how that went. (The fear of being replaced actually has basis in canon. There's a few golden age comics where Dick thinks he's being replaced, and he's so afraid and devastated he starts crying. Even the possibility terrified him, and exacerbated his insecurities when he overheard people talking shit about Robin, saying it was good he was 'replaced'.)

6. Dicks childhood wasn't actually all perfect prior to his parents falling. Circuses have a long history of abuse and being dangerous. It's established in canon that he actually witnessed someone die when doing a dangerous stunt, and Dick would've likely had to have been aware of the constant danger with performing in the circus. Plus, I believe it's also established in canon that during performances, him, his mom and dad were all work partners instead of parents and a son. I headcanon this is where the parentification of Dick started, and Bruce didn't help at all. His parents WERE good though, it's just the environment Dick grew up in.

7. About the circus- the Court of Owls kept a VERY close eye on Dick during this time. There was a lot of subtle Court stuff in Dicks childhood (stuff he only realizes were that after finding out about the Courts involvement). He was taught how to throw knives, for one, and grew up hearing stories about the mythical Court of Owls. So, yeah, not really a normal childhood.

8. Dick isn't at all sure of what to think about his parents after the revelation they were involved with the Court and that they were supposed to give him to them to be trained as a Talon. He knows they likely wouldn't have had a choice, and he's aware of just how much they loved him, but he's a mix of emotions on the topic, so he prefers not to think about it.

9. I'm don't know how it is in canon, but I headcanon Cobb to be Dicks great-grandfather on his mother's side. His father is white, and his family is in the Court. Dicks grandparents on his father's side are alive, but they're pretty old at this point and he's not at all interested in getting to know them, if he's even aware of who they are. (Keep in mind i don't know much about William Cobb himself, so honestly this might change unless I prefer what I have over whatever canon has lol)

10. Dick is FTM Transgender!! I absolutely refuse to consider the idea of AMAB or cis Dick. I attached to him so he's trans now

11. He's both Bi and Demisexual :)

12. I also headcanon he has ADHD and autism!

13. Dick would rather die than admit it, but he's genuinely afraid of Bruce thanks to all the mistreatment over his life. It only got worse after Spyral, and he hates the fawn response he's had ever since.

[lorena12me]

A little fanart drawing for @polarspaz for his amazing CarrionAU of Tim Drake and the Batfam, omg I LOVE the batfamily designs for this AU and the story!!! gods i love the story!!!

I couldn't stop imagining what the battle was like in which they managed to capture Jason. In his description, Jason was killed by the Joker and revived and Brutalized by the League of Assassins, and then released in Gotham where he unleashed a violent crime spree involving civilians as well, due to being poisoned by the well of lazarus and the indoctrination-torture of the Al Ghul and that the whole family had to combine in order to overcome him from his furious rage.

-.-.-.-.--.-

I just couldn't stop imagining headcanon about the context of the battle, :

Ok, so I figured if Jason showed up in Gotham unleashing such a violent massacre wearing the Red Hood helmet and fully covered, the Batfamily would move very quickly (and violently) to eliminate the threat, leading them to focus on stopping the new one. rogue (murder him) caring more about stopping him permanently than finding out his identity. Also, I don't think the good people left in Gotham would accept Red Hood as one of their anti-heroes if they knew he was the one who did all that violence, so I thought the Red Hood costume with the helmet would come after to help him recover from the madness of the pit. Ok, so that's why I drew the Red Hood in the Young Justice ninja outfit, because it would be easier for the mask he wears to be snatched or broken during some fight against Batfam and they could see that he wasn't just a common rogue but Jason revived, so they would decide not to be completely lethal with him, but to capture him to verify that he is Jason and help him.

Tim is not in the picture due to being a stealth-ranged fighter who is using his poison darts to try to overload the well's ability to heal Jason.

I'd really love to know what Polarspaz's thoughts are on how they captured and helped Jason though! Also a bit about Damian because the idea that he murdered Talia to escape the abuse is so interesting!!, Tim is my favorite character, but everyone else is so incredibly cool and I can't help but want to know more about them.

Thank you so much for creating so many amazing AU's

[kittieshauntedourfantasy]

what do you think they were all like in the choir pre-cyclone?

OUGHHH thank you for this one I had to think... I really hope you enjoy! :D

Ocean

Certified yapper. If she wasn't singing, she was talking everyone's ear off.

Circled the soprano parts in her sheet music so she could focus on them.

Corrected everyone else on mistakes before Father Marcus could. "Those are the wrong words!", "Diction!", "Those are the wrong notes!" sh*t like that

Involved in EVERYTHING. Planned events, suggested new songs, all that.

Saw the choir as a reflection of herself. She was the choir captain, so any mistakes felt like personal failure to her.

First to show up, last to leave.

Noel

Passed TF OUT when nobody was watching. Taco Bell is draining okay

Got distracted occasionally while daydreaming about Monique. That affected his performance, which led to lectures from Ocean, which led to arguments.

When he was actually focused, he'd pour his heart and soul into performing.

Was the choir's main male soloist.

Liked hanging out with some of the other choir members during break. He'd look at stuff online with Mischa, give Ricky company, chat with Constance, all that.

Saw the choir as both an outlet and a trap. It allowed him to express himself, but it was also a reminder of the limitations of his small town.

Mischa

Rarely paid attention. He was mostly texting Talia.

Snuck onto his phone during competitions. That's part of the reason they got second place against themselves.

Liked showing Noel stuff on his phone. Memes, YouTube videos, his rap, just about anything.

Pirated Saw on his phone during breaks.

Liked drawing with Ricky. Ricky drew Zolarian stuff, Mischa drew tattoo designs.

Ricky

Drew most of the time. His sketchbook pages were FILLED.

Since she couldn't sing, she just zoned out and daydreamed.

They nodded their head to the beat of songs, that way they were doing something.

Loved hanging out with Penny. It didn't know much about her, but it still liked her company.

Wore a tail to choir practice and everybody kept wanting to feel it (it was soft ok). I should probably mention that I hc Ricky as a therian

Penny

Could NOT sit in chairs normally.

Also could NOT stand still. Very fidgety.

Didn't really hang out with anyone but Ricky. She liked watching him draw.

Always brought her dolly to practices/rehearsals.

Actually had an interest in choir, even if she couldn't pursue it for long.

Constance

Always baked treats for the choir.

Tried to hang out with everyone, even if they never really got to know each other.

Always played little games with Ocean. Stuff like rock paper scissors.

Was the first to try and break up arguments between Ocean and the others.

Helped Ricky design Zolarian cats during breaks. She didn't really know the Zolar lore at the time she just thought the cats were fun.

[whatever-color-of-the-rainbow]

RTC HEADCANONS GO ‼️‼️

OMG YES THANK YOU. I HAVE A LOT.

I think that Karnak lets everyone come back to life at the end for two reasons. One: let’s be real, putting them through all that just to bring them all back is such a Karnak thing to do. And two: THEY DESERVE IT GODDAMNIT

Noel’s favorite band is The Smiths

Mischa likes giving Ricky stickers to put on his cane or wheelchair

Ocean is aroace, but didn’t know she was aroace for a long time. She just thought she was “too mature” and “too focused on her schoolwork” to have crushes

Penny lets Noel borrow her dresses sometimes

Constance is extremely prone to infodumping (Penny could listen to her for hours though)

Ricky likes to “accidentally” run over Ocean’s toes with his wheelchair when she babies him

Mischa and Noel actually aren’t that bad at math; Mischa has a C and Noel has a B. Ocean just views anything below an A as “bad”.

Penny dressed up as Jane Doe for Halloween, and the rest of the choir found this hilarious

Taylor Swift is Ocean’s favorite singer and Penny’s celebrity crush

Constance has had a crush on everyone in the choir at some point (including Noel, but this was before he came out)

Ricky and Noel once tried to write a Monique/Bachelor Man crossover, but because their stories and writing styles were so different, it failed miserably. Now Ricky just draws pictures of Monique and the Bachelor Man kissing instead.

Ocean likes to wake up early, and Constance does not. So when they have sleepovers, Constance will often wake up and Ocean will have breakfast ready for her.

Ricky and Noel like to go on double dates with Constance and Penny

Noel and Ricky are both genderfluid. Noel is AMAB and Ricky is AFAB, and they’re both prone to dysphoria. If they had a nickel for every joke they made about switching bodies, Noel would have enough money to move to France and take the whole rest of the choir with him.

After the Cyclone thing, Mischa spends more evenings at Ricky’s place than his own

Prior to the Cyclone, Noel is extremely protective of Constance because of the way Ocean treats her

Mischa once overheard Noel talking about RuPaul’s Drag Race during choir. He thought it was an actual racing show and started watching it. It wasn’t what he expected, but it is now his favorite show. (This is technically semi-canon; in the high school edition, Mischa mentioned this.)

Penny and Noel are the definition of gay/lesbian solidarity

Penny and Constance like to go on picnic dates

Ocean and Noel are basically siblings. They actually do love each other and know each other better than anyone, but they live for getting on each other’s nerves, and Noel isn’t afraid to call Ocean out on her bullshit.

Ricky, Noel, Ocean: cat people

Mischa, Constance, Penny: dog people

They’re all autistic, I don’t make the rules

For Noel’s birthday, Ocean made him a bracelet that said his name with red and green beads (because Christmas). In return, Noel made Ocean a bracelet with her name and orange, yellow, white, blue, and teal beads (because beach colors; little did he know that those would become the aroace colors). They trade those bracelets every time they see each other.

Constance once made the mistake of having Mischa watch Up with her. He cried.

Ocean was Constance’s queer awakening in eighth grade. The crush lasted for about four months. ‘Twas a very awkward four months.

Mischa had a crush on a guy before meeting Talia, but didn’t realize it was a crush at the time because it was the mid 2000s and queerness wasn’t really talked about as much as it is today. When Ricky mentioned being bisexual, Mischa came to the conclusion that he was too.

Penny has what might be the greenest eyes that any of her friends have ever seen on a human

Constance is really good at styling hair, so Ocean and Penny always go to her when they want to have their hair look nice for a concert or contest

Ricky’s really good at doing people’s makeup

[luciusime]

Everyday I draw a little closer to writing an mla format very long essay on the complex and nuanced relationship between Bruce, Damian, and Dick. It infuriates and saddens me when people boil it down to Dick being Damian's father without considering the implications of that fatherhood and the conditions it was fostered under. Would you tell a kidnapping victim that they couldn't be a father to their son? No? Then why do people rob Bruce of the opportunity to be a father to Damian? Why does Dick get to be the oh so perfect golden child even when he's hurt at least two of his siblings with his actions from the time Jason first got to the manor, to the time he ripped all that was keeping Tim stable from his hands? If parents are allowed to fuck up, why isn't Bruce allowed to work his way back to, if not forgiveness, then at least stable ground for his less reprehensible actions.( not including things like killing his children, sending them on useless or unwanted quests/missions, or not avenging or correcting their deaths. The children are allowed to be upset and never forgive those things). Has anyone ever stopped to think about the implications of Dick being Damian's father? How if you add that on top of his unwanted stint as batman, it makes him uncomfortably close to being Bruce, something he has never wanted and will never want? Why do people only ever write nuanced and complex fics about Bruce's relationship with Tim and Jason? Why is it so hard to find fics of him being nice to Dick and Damian? Are they undeserving of having Bruce affirm his love for them? Why is Damian never treated like the traumatized child he is, when Cassandra, with a similar upbringing and background, is treated with so much tenderness in the few fics she has that center around her. Why is he labeled demon, murderer; a mindless, brainless 10 year old assassin with no morals? Is he not allowed time to heal from his time in a literal cult?

And while I'm rambling on, do people ever stop to consider the delicate tightrope work Talia must have had to do to be allowed to keep her son? Not even as just Ra's heir, but as her son. Talia has always been assassin before she was mother, and those two things don't mix well when you have the amount of enemies she does. And when one of those enemies is your own father? You learn quickly what will and will not fly. The designs she must have had to make, and the horrors she must have had to witness and inflict upon her child to keep them both from dying must have been immense.

I think about these topics alot. I could totally write a whole character study about it.

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has It's Thorns - Part One

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc (Talia)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, betrayal. (potentially more to be added?)

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. Not that it is any easier for the soulmate in question. Thus is the fate for Ricky and Talia. Sooner or later, however, life is bound to collide, but what will happen when it does?

author’s note: Part ONE, as usual unbeta'd and will just throw my jumbled words at you and ask you to love them. I don't know how long this series will be yet, I am playing by ear to having a feel for this story and where it will take me.

tags: If you would like to be added feel free to ask, please let me to know whether to this list specifically or in general.

~~

Talia forever would hate the day she learned about soulmate tattoos. Well, marks, they weren’t really tattoos as far as she was concerned. Just because they were intricate images like tattoos, some of them anyway. Some of them were nothing but simple stick figures that little children could draw, the reason that everyone called them tattoos was because they were artwork that was permanently inked to a person’s skin and could never be taken off. Unlike real tattoos though, no needle needed to be taken to your skin for them, there was no ink, no pain, no healing. Everyone got their mark.

On your eighteenth birthday, at the exact moment you were born, your mark appeared. If you were born at five thirteen in the morning, or exactly a minute before midnight, that was the moment that your mark was going to appear. You couldn’t predict what it was. You couldn’t predict where it would be. There was no rhyme or meaning behind them.

Some people used to think that there was an emotional meaning connecting the pair with the tattoo. However, Talia found that hard to believe when there were people that had literally poop emoji as their soulmate tattoo on their ass, out there in the world, oh yes, they were out there, she was well aware. Her cousin, Gemma’s best friend, was her soulmate tattoo. The poor girl, Talia actually hoped that she didn’t find her soulmate if there was truth that there was something linking them emotionally with that emoji, because no.

Not everyone found their soulmate, not everyone wanted to. Some people actively avoided looking at their soulmates because honestly, it took the surprise out of life, and where was the fun of that? The joy of falling in love, and the hope and thrill of putting your heart on the line and wondering, is this the person? Is this the person that fate had chosen for you, the one you were meant to be with?

Talia would never know that feeling.

She knew who her soulmate was the very moment her mark appeared, and the shock that she felt was something that she couldn’t even put words to. Seeing that tattoo appear, one that she knew. One that she’d seen on fansites of one of her favourite bands more than once, and in the same place.. If it wasn’t in the same place it wouldn’t have been him. If it wasn’t in the same place she wouldn’t have been in the position she was in now. If it was just the same image, and not the same place, it would have just been an uncanny coincidence.

This wasn’t just some uncanny thing.

It was real.

Problem was, it was all over the fansites, and Talia had never kept it any secret how much she loved Motionless In White. Especially Ricky Horror.

So when the day she turned eighteen came and she turned up with the exact tattoo that all the fansites claimed was his soulmate tattoo but he always refused to confirm, what famous person would confirm and have millions come out of the woodwork claiming to be their soulmate? Well, it was safe to say, she was ripped apart by so many people that she at least used to think were her friends.

Her true friends, all these years later, were down to three. Three people that in no way would ever bag on her for the rose tattoo that not so innocently sat on her neck, and none of them dared mention anymore.

Years.

Talia used to try.

Despite the cruelty of those around her treating her like some psychotic obsessed fangirl that had gone and gotten the tattoo on her birthday just to fool the man into being with her. She’d loved going to concerts, not just to try and meet Ricky, despite the assumption, but also for the music, thank you very much, but yes, for Ricky. How could she not want to meet the man whose very soul was marked on her skin for the rest of her life? Whose life had been marked with hers longer than hers had been marked with his…

There had been close calls over the years, when she almost got to meet him. The closest had been the time when she’d actually managed to get a VIP ticket to a concert. Sure it was two states over, and she had to fly there and take some time off work, but the fact that she’d managed to save up, and get the ticket at all.

Ava, Jordan and Kyle had all helped her. The three people in her life that had never, not once, ever questioned that mark on her skin and who the other person on the other end was.

Even her family had made her wonder if she was a little insane for thinking that Ricky Horror was her soulmate. Her mother had been so obvious in her effort to placate her, never once did she feel like her family thought that maybe, just maybe, did they believe her. Her father actually suggested she get medical help more than once. Not surprisingly though, there were therapists that did specialise in the effects of the soulmate bond and sometimes delusions that could come from them. The day her father made her appointment with one of them though, was the day she decided to move out of her parents house.

Thankfully Ava had a spare room and was more than happy to split rent with her.

Oh, and that VIP ticket that she got?

She didn’t make it there in time.

One thing happened after another that night, and you could call it a disaster of fate, and in hindsight, she should have seen it coming. Maybe it was a product of fate. Maybe the whole thing with the soulmate tattoos were always going to be wrong and hers was just sitting on her skin to taunt her.

First, her client appointment ran late, and if she had tried to end it early so she could make it to the airport in time, she would have risked losing her job. Not that it would have mattered considering her flight had been delayed anyway, and then by the time they were finally about to board they cancelled it and had to get her onto a different flight. A different flight which meant she didn’t even get there in time to get into her VIP meet and greet in time.

She got to go to the concert.

She got her VIP merch.

After all that, beaten down with the day behind her, her hotel booked and not needing to be at the airport for the flight home until late the next day, she decided to wait to see if she could catch them after the show.. Until she saw him, finally. The smile lit up her face as she saw Ricky pass them by.. Talia had wanted to say something, but when they were actually talking to the fans she was stuck behind some idiot and blocked out of the way, and by the time she managed to elbow her way through, they’d already been ushered on by security.. Not that it mattered when he saw one of the people he was with. His new girlfriend, hand in hand.

It had been an amazing night.. But one that had ended with her in heartbreak.

That was the night that was the beginning of the end for Talia’s attempts to meet Ricky. After so many trips to see their concerts, and try to see him, this last one, this VIP trip, was when she saw him walking back to his tour bus with his new, pretty girlfriend. He was smiling at her so bright, holding her hand between them.

It wouldn’t have killed her as much, except he looked so happy.

Sure, Talia had no doubt he’d had girlfriends before, she’d dated guys, but Ricky had never been open on social media about any of his relationships. This girl though, he was very vocal about. Talia, she couldn’t destroy that, soulmate or not.

Not everyone wanted their soulmate, not everyone wanted their soulmate. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, he was famous, that had to be hard, after all, nearly every single person that knew who her mark connected her too thought she’d was just some psychotically obsessed fan. Why wouldn’t he?

So life moved on.

Talia moved on.

However, if she had to endure one more pathetic attempt to set her up on a blind day from her mother, her brain might explode. Ever since she’d given up on her soulmate tattoo, not that she’d talked to mother about it in years, her mother’s attempts to interest her in someone else had only increased. Now though, the moment the inevitable subject of soulmates came up, she never knew what to say. More often than not, the date came to a dead stop then and there just from what he said even before she could open her mouth. Too many people went on blind dates in hope of meeting the one. She knew she wasn’t that person, and there was no second date then.

Sitting at her desk and looking up from her sketch patch when her phone started going off repeatedly, she was working on a new piece for one of her long-time clients, he was slowly working on a full tattoo sleeve and this was the next addition she was designing, provided he liked what she worked up. He hadn’t yet, but there was always a first time.

Trying to ignore the alerts on her phone to focus wasn’t going to happen, but she needed to take a lunch break anyway. So she set her pencil down, picked up her phone and set to go make herself a cup of coffee.

When she saw who the messages were from, she glanced up to the front of the tattoo palour to one of the culprits, Ava.. she was right there at the reception desk, flicking through a magazine like she didn’t have a care in the world, typical. Shaking her head with a smirk as she opened the messenger app to her friend groups chat to see what the three of them had been gossiping about back and forth.

Kyle: Hey guys, we’re still on for tonight? Jordan: Party girl, you still in? Ava: Oh, I’ll get her there, she’d got her head in her work, like usual today, you know her. Jordan: Oh come ON, TALIA! BIRTHDAY GIRL! Kyle: T, Darling, I did not agree to double shifts to get the night off for you to BAIL! Ava: Kyle! Cool your jets, she’ll be there!

It had been a few moments since the last message, she knew they’d been planning on taking her out to a bar for her birthday for weeks, she hated going out on her birthday, she hated it. It always reminded her of the fucking tattoo on her neck. It shouldn’t. Everyone talked about soulmate tattoos on their birthday. Counting down the years and remembering how they felt when they first saw theirs, or when they first met their soulmate.. When all she wanted was to forget she ever got her mark at all.

She understood Kyle’s frustration though, he was a nurse, and sometimes getting time off for a night out was difficult for him. Kyle and Jordan were fucking lucky, they were soulmates, two of her best friends, known each other since they were in diapers, had been joined at the hip since middle school. The biggest worry they’d ever had was if they were soulmates at all. When Jordan had gotten his mark two months before Kyle, they’d agreed if Kyle didn’t have the same, they wouldn’t care, and lo and behold, two months later, sure enough, Kyle did.

It was actually scary really thinking about it, the way the marks worked.. How if you got your mark years before your soulmate, they could be out there and have no idea. She was younger than Ricky by years, and she wondered sometimes what he must have been thinking, how he must have felt. Some people never met their soulmate, some people never got the chance, and it wasn’t by choice. You knew when you lost the choice, if your tattoo changed from black to white on your skin, then it meant your soulmate had died.

Talia’s of course was still very much black. Not that it mattered. Ricky was out there, not looking, and neither was she. He was happy with someone else, and who was she to ruin that for him.

After she pushed the button on the coffee maker she looked back down to her phone and tapped out a message on her phone.

Talia: I’ll be there Ky, be prepared to die by shots.

[byghostface]

Hello! Nika fan here! Uhm, curious, as you seem like a Nika expert, how do you explain her personality as a character? 😅 Sorry, sounds stupid, but I really wanted to understand her more! Detailed or in simplistic form, I don't mind one or the other.

Hope you have a good day! Love your art! ❤️ 💀 ❤️

Hi there! Thanks for the question and take an interest in her!!^ ^♥️ (I tried to keep it simple but I keep adding details about her, so it has become a lengthy description, but you can scroll to the bottom I have the simplistic version of it)

Detailed version↓

I would say Nika is a quick wit, bold, resilient, stylish, rebellious, and very much an independent person. Sometimes a bit of a showgirl in her own playful theatrical way.

→Painting her face with skull makeup. Her trademark move by tearing people's hearts out. Presenting herself in distinctive outfits. Kneeling as a sign of respect when she first meets with people whom she holds long admiration for - Batman, her (past) mentor Lord Death Man. When she goes undercover with Damian in Gotham High, she shows up dressing to her own taste in clothes, even though he tells her to be inconspicuous.

"Sorry, I don't do inconspicuous."

Batman and Robin(2023)#8 -Artist: Nikola Čižmešija-

She tends to make silly nicknames for people, like throwing it in between conversations as a not-serious jab/comment: Damian- little birdie, Bruce- Daddy bat-brucks (reference Annie), Ra's Al Ghul- old fart😭(cus he is in ghost/spirit form, and properly bugging her for a while…)

The interests she has are drawing and opera. She also mentioned she's a K-pop stan, so I imagine she is interested in different ranges of music.

"—wander around an old folk's home and like… pick up painting or opera, y'know?"

Nika is an easygoing, open-minded and curious person (reads Damian's manga and talks to him about it). She's not very good at picking up social cues (saying death-related jokes at bad timing or it didn't land well) despite that, she still pays attention to what people are saying and observes people well (discuss the fighting skills of tournament fighters with Damian, and showing concern about Damian's injured arm).

"It's good. I like that it's a romance about an art school. But also about being competitive…"

And oftentimes she lives in her own head (obsesses with death and honing her newfound powers). It improves after she meets Damian and considers other possibilities in life other than death and killing.

"Life can be more than just being really good at killing people. You've proven that a few times."

Batman and Robin(2023)#7 -Artist: Simone Di Meo-

She likes to handle things at her own pace/plans and has the confidence in herself to do it correctly. So she has the bad habit of saying white lies or doesn't tell people the whole picture/exactly what she is trying to do.

Sometimes doing things head-on fearlessly because she has ambition and pride in herself (calls dibs on Damian's first match, keeps fighting in the death tournament attempt to gain victory, takes over Lord Death Man's empire, takes inspiration from Talia and makes a new outfit for herself).

When first met, people might find Nika quite rude/careless. Once you get to know her, she's just very straightforward and honest when expressing her feelings. She can be pretty brash, had short-tempered to people who are disrespectful/annoying to her.

"If you really are this badass that you think you are, you'll respect me."

Nika is a person of a free spirit with a strong will and motivation. She would follow reasonable orders/rules from ppl whom she respects, but she would get irritated when people tried to hold tight control over her and tell her what she should or shouldn't do, it might signal her that they don't trust/have faith in her (like her family). And if she feels like being overlooked/underwhelming, she tries to rebel and manage things on her own terms (run away from home to learn more about her powers, overthrow Lord Death Man, handle Mila's situation, go to Gotham to see Damian after his lack of contact/attention to her even though he calls her his girlfriend first).

Simplistic version (summary)↓

Prominent personality trait— Quick wit and easygoing, with a strong will and motivation. A confident, resilient, fashionable, and challenging person.

Hobby(so far)— Drawing, k-pop, opera.

Social ability— Tends to be playful, joking around with people, and likes to nickname them as a not-serious jab/comment. Mostly minding her own business, and not relying on other people much. Kind of a lone wolf who values her own time and effort.

Goals(so far)— Relying on her obsession with death to make sense of life. After the tournament and managing Lord Death Man's criminal empire she wants to slow down a bit to enjoy/explore her life.

With Damian— Playful, free talking and showing more emotions with him. Honest to him with times (resolved misunderstanding with him quickly). Likes his accompany a lot.

With (her older sister) Mila— a bit melancholy but not afraid to fight against her when she is being disrespectful/harmful.

And Ty for liking my art!!💝 I must say my portrayal of Nika still has some level of my preference/fanon in it (I love my art, but I'm not always satisfied with how I portray her within my ability). So take it with a grand of salt and give comics a try if you can! (For Nika, Robin2021, Lazarus planet: Next evolution, and Batman and Robin2023)

Have a great day anon, and thanks for reading!!🫶⚰️💀🦴♥️

[goonersaurus]

just barely made enough art this year to do this meme idk(2 of these haven’t been posted anywhere). HNY

this year i started using tumblr more because i gradually used twitter much less sometime over the summer (RIP little blue bird) - im back to my silly old ways and posting my art! many thank yous and kisses and big ghibli-style tears for everyone who looked at my art, gave them likes, reblogs, or left comments or lovely tags. thank you to those who helped inspire me and got me back into writing fanfic, thank you to everyone on footyblr making it feel like a cozy and wholesome space, for mutuals, thanks for tolerating my vampire obsession (i was ….a lot more deranged with my footballer obsessions on my twitter i think but maybe i’ll be able to open up more here eventually)

i miss making “complicated” looking art (eg., in the bottom corners) and i hope to do some more experimentation to find a way to make this kind of art with football as the subject matter (probably wont be making much more h/talia fanart unfortunately…). my confidence in my art might be returning to a higher point. last month i moved on from the tablet and art program that i’ve been using the past 13 years and the change is probably good so far. i think i started enjoying drawing and sharing again over this year and i just hope i keep it up. and i hope to write more, and learn how to …. read and write again.

[daetko]

mutual headcanons . . .

talia note ; you guys … i wrote this at 4am so this is 100% half yapping but my mutuals on twt did this for me and i was like. omg . tumblr oomfs ur next. also math is kicking my ass so im bringing up multiplication hcs for everyone

@miyamoratsumuu — top of the class & class pres/have some major rule in school. you probably have a really cute smile like the one where ur lips don’t shut fully there’s like space that shows ur teeth a lil & i hc u have chest length hair too ,, you REALLY love youtube video essays probably, lego enjoyer & u 101% like/d kpop, i can see u liking nct and cravity so vividly,,, you also carry chapstick around with you everywhere though you don’t need it but u always end up finishing it somerhow. you’re OKAY at multiplication like you’re not the best but 100% not the worst. Biochem have to be ur favorite subjects (after art) i refuse to believe otherwise. u LOVE white shirts, u dress so nice and have those shirts w the little girl drawings on them, u also are somehow SOMEHOW the type of kid to fake cough infront of a smoking stranger to make them feel bad. squint & you’ll see the vision i’m implying n you 100% have perspective glasses ur supposed to wear but u never wear them, & lastly you have a tiktok account with you lip syncing

@rueclfer — ouhhhh rue i hc ur such a smartass at school like no one expects it but u get SUCH GREAT grades holy shit also ur a SMOKER. Oomf smokes (possibly weed and very rarely cigs) smoker. or u own atleast two dispos trust i know. also you really liked the tooth fairy as a kid and somehow she disappointed you and that’s where ur villain arc started . Atleast 3 dead pet fishes. u also really like zootopia. also probably tried getting into kpop at some point and failed miserably… you are willing to defend cheese sandwiches with your life too. human multiplication machine somehow, or really bad at it. you owe atleast 2 pairs of jorts & those baggy brown/black colored overly comfy oversized jackets that have these little doodles / stars on them & wire headphones, atleast 2 ear piercings and a septum , your screen time is 50% pinterest or twittwe

@loveriotss — lighting mcqueen defender ( i think u probably wanted the car bed / had it at some point) & car enjoyer … you’d love f1 . you watch sam and colby religiously (same) and u LOVEEEE old katy perry songs. u had a marshmallow / selena gomez phase in middle school & you used to have braces in elementary/middle school. you’re either ginger or a really light brown haired person, if u say black or dark brown i will actually be surprised. your aura color is 100% green with a hint of purple (i don’t know much about this but u just give that vibe) you play sims 4 too and really REALLY enjoy lasagna & multiplication (though you’re not the best at it). you’re also like REALLY scared of sneaking your phone in to school (let’s say it’s not allowed) and you were brave enough to do that for once and boom it’s like a cr4ck addiction you can’t stop bringing it to school w u until one day u get caught and they call your mum to school ,,, also u either violate the dress code or dress modestly no inbetween— and did i mention u have SO MANY racer jackets holy shit even if it’s those basic bershka ones

@poetlus / @lunatiqez — mina ashido and bokuto kotaro if they had a fusion of both of their personalities. oomf you LOVE LOOOVEE dresses so much like i wouldn’t be surprised if that’s half ur closet & u also have a bookshelf in your room probably with so many books you haven’t touched since u bought. probably got a scooter for christmas at some point. one of your many pillows on your bed probably has a floral print & your room is BIG LIKE HUGE there’s so much space left despite your huge ass closet. u probably own merch of stuff you USED to like and don’t anymore ,, you also enjoy ramen from restaurants like no tomorrow & you stick ur tongue out at every minor inconvenience (twin ). you also cannot do multiplication, you really hate math but you like to write in the notebook. you’re BLONDE. that’s BLONDE OOMF. or atleast light brunette. you’re like 5”4 too shit maybe 5”3 aswell.. you also LOVE raves and parties & u can fuck up cake like a n expert especially vanilla & red velvet cake . Rip liv you would’ve loved dress to impress

@sepptember — ok so first of all you LOVE shrimp. and i mean LOVE LOVE and you’re okay w other seafood. u also like to add thinly sliced carrot to ramen which is actually goated btw and you’d k1ll someone if a bowl of katsu curry was on the line,, your fav subject is PROBABLY science ,, perhaps geology? maybe? i feel like you have too many stuffed animals and you probably collect those glass drinks lids too, you had a monster energy drink phase & kinned hitoka yachi at some point. you update your letterboxed multiple times a week & you do NOT play about true crime podcasts. bro, please, im begging you to get out your room and see your family. also i think u have a rlly nice room … like it’s either rlly acubi-ish or brown green & some dark colors and veins hanging from the ceiling, both ways aesthetically pleasing to look at !!!! multiplication goat btw

ib this tweet