#Night Patrol Aesthetic

[stigmatam4rtyr]

The Night Patrol (before 1919, oil on canvas) | Albert Julius Olsson

[deadsetobsessions]

Hi! Party Planner! Danny has struck again.

——

Danny clambered onto the top of the building, eyes fixed onto the dimming Gotham City sky line. Electric blue eyes froze in concentration as his targets grappled into view. he quickly scaled the last rungs of the fire escape ladder to stumble onto the roof. Danny waved his arms, and his targets, catching sight of him mere moments later, began swinging towards him. Danny adjusted his bag strap.

“Hello, concerned citizen, what do you need assistance with?”

Danny faltered. Who the fuck was wearing Batman’s cowl?

Robin (with a sword) scowled at Batman before turning his attention back to Danny.

“Uh. Right,” Danny muttered, giving ‘Batman’ the most obvious and glaring side eye he could. Regardless, if the little Robin did not protest this Batman’s presence… it was good enough for him. “I’m a party planner.”

Robin spoke before Batman could. “And what of it?”

“The… uh, League of Evil or something, wait,” Danny fumbled while opening the bag and pulling out some papers. “Ah, Legion of Doom. Them.”

Little Robin and fake-Batman perked up. Fake-Batman tensed visibly. Danny grumbled. “Anyways, they’re contacting me- by they, I mean Lex Luthor- to see if I could plan a party in… God, why are Gotham’s names for shit so depressing?”

“Get on with it.” Little Robin snapped. Danny was reminded of Dani instantly and let it slide.

“Ah, right, they want me to plan a party in “Slaughter Swamp” on the seventh of next month. So… keep an eye on that, okay?” Danny asked Robin.

“Are you supposed to be telling us this?” Fake-Batman asked.

Danny shrugged, running a hand through his hair, practiced fingers brushing aside that little white streak of hair he got from the portal.

Little Robin’s gaze snapped up to his hair.

“It’s fine. They haven’t had me sign an NDA yet.” And, well, the devil is in the details but Danny is the devil.

“I’ll handle it.” Fake-Batman promised. Danny threw him a skeptical look.

“Uh-huh. Right.” He turned back to sword Robin, who looked torn between the supposed slight towards Batman and pride at Danny’s apparent trust in his abilities. “Look, here’s the stuff I have on them- copied them- and good luck and all that.”

He handed the file and some data in a usb stick to Robin, dipping away as soon as he could. He had a party to plan, and matching Luthor’s purple-gold aesthetic to Cheeta’s yellow and black spotted material wasn’t going to get done by themselves.

——

“Even the civilians outside of Gotham could tell you’re not Batman.” Damian scoffed as he watched their party planner slip back into his apartment.

“Hey, I thought I did pretty well!”

“I do not claim to know what hallucinogens you’ve inhaled, but do not come near me. I don’t want your stupidity to catch everyone else unawares.”

“Hey!”

“Get it together, Kryptonian. We still have half the night to patrol.”

Damian swung off, mind whirling along side Kent’s little hamster wheels for a brain. He’ll have to inform father. And Timothy. Red Robin had a grudge to settle with Scarecrow and will aid in Damian’s plot to obtain sugar gliders in exchange for the information. Yes.

——

Clark, thinking his Batman acting was bad: :(

Danny, has never met Batman: this can’t be Batman, he’s being midwestern polite

——

Also, I just want to say that the Flash has Georgia State patrol energy.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Main Masterlist || Navigation || All works are F!Reader || All images sourced from Pinterest ||

SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE SEA-FOAM || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In which a lone mermaid finds good company with a handsome fisherman who trespasses in her cove. But the word isn't what it used to be...hunting ships patrol the waters.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

FANART: “You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” & "Mermaid Interpretation" by @thedevillovesflowers

2. RUN AWAY TO ME || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader

SYNOPSIS: The night started with wine and ended with blood. Racing through the woods after having escaped your wedding, you find a lone homestead in the middle of a rainstorm. Alone, wounded, and bordering on unconsciousness, you have no option but to knock.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

3. BLOOD-STAINED WOOL SPUN AT MIDNIGHT || 18 + Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)

SYNOPSIS: When you left the town in the year of our Lord, 1897, to buy more wool from the local farmer, the cobblestone streets had come up to meet the hooves of your neighbor's horse.

Along this trip of false hope, the open fields at your sides had led to the backdrop of a brimstone forest; an old shadow seems to loom there. A black thing. A devil with eyes like a burial mound. You were told to fear the Ghost of the Forest, but never had you known you'd be caught in his blackened claws.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

4. BLACK METAL AND BOURBON || 18+ Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Ghost x F!Bartender!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You've been in this small town for your entire existence, giving up dreams and aspirations to carry on life as a simple bartender despite your hatred of two things: the smell of cigarette smoke and the disrespect from regulars, namely, your ex and his buddies. But on a still-air Sunday, almost overnight, a mechanics shop pops up right across the street - giving sight to new faces and a fresh group of men with a love of motorcycles. One, in particular, seems to only like Bourbon.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

5. TO HUNT A SILVER STAG || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Fae!Princess!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Promised to a greedy king to try and preserve the magic of the land, a princess instead finds herself drawn to a chivalrous knight and his gentle words. But everyone knows magic has a mind of its own.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

6. HOW TO ADAPT TO FIRE || Mini-Series || Completed

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

SYNOPSIS: There is an arsonist in your city, and you're going to catch him. As one of the most prolific investigative journalists in the city, you make a lot of enemies the second your papers are released to the public. Your informant - and perhaps something more - in the local fire department makes a point to tell you to be careful.

But everyone knows he's right beside you when the fires start sparking.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

7. MOSS, BONE, AND A FALLING STAR || Mini-Series || Not Started

PAIRING: Witch Hunter!Price x F!Witch!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Humans have not been kind to you, but they usually are to things that they don't understand. You're offered a deal when a rugged-looking Witch Hunter shows up at your secluded hut. Make him see you for what you truly are in three stories or less. You oblige and give him the limit - a story of moss, of bone, and of a falling star.

CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III

8. VIVAMUS, MORIENDUM EST || Undetermined || Not Started

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader (Reincarnation AU)

SYNOPSIS: In every lifetime you made a promise to one another: even if you must die, you will find a way to live together for all of eternity, be that five or a hundred years from now. You'd not broken your promise yet.

CHAPTERS: Undetermined

[sisaloofafump]

Thinking about Bruce getting hit by a spell that gives him catlike features for a year. It lasts long enough that he knows he can't hide it, so he integrates it into his public persona.

It doesn't really affect his Batman work. He perches on high places and turns away from physical affection like usual. His cowl already has places for ears and his tail is hidden by his cape. His balance is already so good. The eyes make his night vision better, the flexibility in his feet makes him swifter, he modifies the gloves to match Selina's claws.

But there are little things that change.

He's more sleepy, constantly, and it's rarely a deep nap but he nods off whenever he can. Every few days he needs to cuddle with someone safe and is restless and needy if he can't. His meals (already dense and few and far between) stick to a strict schedule. He sniffs things.

And with those that he's close to, it gets a little more apparent.

He deposits care packages at his kids' doors in the middle of the night with no explanation

He hisses at criminals

He licks his thumb and rubs sauce splatter off Alfred's face in the kitchen

Diana picks him up by the scruff like a misbehaving kitten and he just goes limp

Selina is having the absolute best time of her life. It doesn't matter that they're fighting, once she hears the news she runs back to Gotham and doesn't let him out of the bed for a week

She is, however, mockingly offended that he's both stolen her aesthetic and that he refuses to lean into it. She keeps making him catsuits. She "buys" him cat themed jewelry and he can't even complain about it because she's looking at him with such wonder and awe and then kissing him stupid

He melts into Clark's pets and practically climbs into his lap when they're alone. (Totally Platonically of course). He travels to Metropolis semi-regularly to take care of his cuddling needs away from the indignity of his household

He always checks and makes sure Superman's hair curl is perfect

Socialites love it. They pet his ears and his tail and he drapes himself over them pretending he loves it too, focusing all his attention on controlling his tail muscles and not letting it flick angrily

"Oh no, it didn't give me the muscles to purr" Brucie explains, and then he spots Friend! Ally! Lois Lane across the hall and starts purring up a storm

Lois is unbelievably smug as her and Bruce are nearly chased out by an incredibly jealous heiress

Both Cass and Stephanie are so excited and Steph stops avoiding patrols with Bruce because her need to sneak up behind him and pat his (cowled) head is too strong. He lets it happen. They work well together when she knows she's only allowed to keep it up if she follows all his other mission commands

Damian brings him pamphlets on feline health and behaviours and enforces strict adherence to its guidelines

Jason is insufferable about it, not lessening in his taunts even after the novelty has worn off for everyone else. Bruce once picks him up by the scruff and he goes limp

Wayne Foundation sells multiple photoshoot calendars, ranging from wholesome to downright scandalous. Selina (who is semi-publicly known to be Catwoman after her most recent arrests) directs them the shoot, to the horror of most of the crew

They sell out immediately

Lois buys all three and places the most scandalous in the kitchen with sticky notes covering the most sensitive areas (but leaving enough to let the imagination go wild). The wholesome one goes beside their bed and the mid tier one is on Clark's desk at the Planet. He moves it to Lois's desk. Lois changes his computer wallpaper a full frontal cat!Bruce nude

Bruce gets away with catnapping throughout any meeting he wants

He sets up a "nap room" attached to his office which provides ample excuse to sneak away or work on his batcomputer

Dick doesn't know how to feel. Humour, yes, but it reminds him of the cat themed entertainers at the circus and their acrobatic stunts. He teaches Bruce some of them. He doesn't say why (but Bruce knows)

Bruce chirps when he's sleepy. He curls up with Clark on the couch and Clark memorizes the sound

He accidentally chirps over comms once and without hesitation Clark and Diana reply back. The rest of the league is deeply confused but it becomes a nearly effective check in system for the Trinity

Clark subconsciously learns how to purr. Lois gives him absolute hell for it. The apartment vibrates minutely whenever Bruce is over

Bruce's ears and tail are horribly transparent about his emotions, especially negative ones. It's not purring or chirping that indicates contentment, but the lack of his tail's near constant flicking and ticked off ears

Tim is one of the only ones who tries to optimize the cat features as part of Batman. He isn't distracted by or infantilizing of them, but he also doesn't ignore them and pretend everything is the same

Duke thinks it's Bad Ass but doesn't push the gimmick when he realizes Bruce won't lean into it. He once snips off a piece of Bruce's fur on a dare by his civilian friends. He sells it for $690

Bruce goes cowl & capeless at core-group Justice League meetings because the suit still too constructing and sensory-overwhelming no matter how much he modifies it. His glare dares them to be distracted by it. They still are.

Most of them move on after a few months. Barry never does. Actually if we're being honest none of them do, but most of them stop hovering around and hoping to pet him. (And he trusts them. He allows some initial pets to get the curiosity out of their system. Until he gets overwhelmed and shuts it all down)

Hal is gravely injured on a mission and Bruce wraps him in his arms and purrs until evac arrives. They never talk about it again

Oliver wonders if he should get an animal themed transformation. Zatanna gives him a rat tail

Diana is delighted by the increased spring in his pounces and elects herself his principle sparring partner

(Dinah propositions him for a threesome. Bruce takes one look at Ollie's tail and walks away)

Bruce claws up Clark's cape and perches on his shoulders while he flies

He rips up little papers at his desk while working

When the batsignal goes up, he abandons everything and pounces towards it. Gordon finds him tapping at the bright light with his claw

Helena’s dog hates him

For a few weeks in the second month, he has two sets of canines as his adult cat teeth come in. What starts as a duo Alfred & Damian project to find appropriate teething material for Bruce that is a) effective and b) dignified enough Bruce would use it, spirals into a full batfamily effort. Too many people buy the exact same cheap adult batsignal chew necklace. Luke designs a high tech chewable batarang. Dick suggest an old cowl's ears. Finally someone brings him a chew necklace shaped like the Superman crest and Bruce gets way too much satisfaction walking out of a WE board meeting with an punctured and ruined El crest

Clark puts his hand on Bruce's shoulder during monitor duty, expecting either aloof rejection or a cuddle. Bruce bites him. That knocks the remaining baby teeth out

Diana performs his dental check ups because her fingers are strong but forgiving, and Clark Is Not Jealous

Bruce will give Jon and the shy children of socialites and WE employees piggybacks and let them play with his hair and ears, and or get away with tugging on his tail. It's uncomfortable, but he enjoys their glee and what little he can do to entertain them

Clark tries picking Bruce up by the scruff and Bruce hisses at him

Bruce only talks to J'onn telepathically

Unthinking, in an emergency, Bruce uses his serrated tongue and licks the kryptonite particles off of Clark's face

Inspired by the whiskers he unfortunately did not get, Bruce inputs sensors on the side of his cowl to help him judge what he's able to squeeze through

The one person who hates it is Kate. She attends some of the same events as Bruce as resents the attention he gets, both for his sake and because of her own annoyance. She thinks it's stupid how much mission time is wasted talking about it. She wishes it happened to her. She is Bruce's main ally in getting conversations back on track

Bruce gets so many love letters and proposals in the mail from all over the world. Selina puts them all in a binder and, even when wearing a disguise, pulls him closer whenever she sees one of the authors in person

Babs is (aside from changing some of his interface to have some cat themes) very professional about it. She low effort dresses up as a cat for a last minute Halloween event and Dick retches when she tries to flirt with him

Everyone buys him cat collars. Most are cheap gag gifts. Most are bat merch. Hal gives him a green lantern one. Steph gives him a Superman one.

Selina gives him dozens but the only one he'll wear isn't a collar at all but a lacy black choker with a dainty chain decal and a little heart charm. Bruce wears it to a gala and doesn't understand Clark's expression until he looks at it under a microscope. "Property of S". He looks into claw coverings Selina helped add to his gloves. "Property of C". Huh. Maybe that explains why Clark looked at them weird

His butt wiggles before he jumps

When the year is nearly up, Bruce pretends he won't mourn any of it and continues like normal. Selina debates trying to extend it. Zatanna could, but ultimately they decide to let it go

Unlike in the first week, Bruce and Selina fight a lot in the days before the end because emotions are high and Selina is clingy. It doesn't stop them from making the most of each night tho

Clark is disappointed that his time as Designated Bruce Cuddler and their semi-regular hangouts are coming to an end. Lois was dragging them through an X-Files marathon and they had only a couple seasons left

Diana gives in and takes him to the Andromeda Mall for a spa day so she can finally coo over him in relative privacy

When it ends, Bruce goes back to his old suit with no comment. He barely addresses the change and, aside from a few wayward jokes, people move on. But if they look closely, they'd see how the claws remain, and the springing support near his ankles

Selina leaves for a time after she realizes he wants to pretend it never happened and their increasing arguments were no longer tempered by sex. Bruce pretends it's not ironic that he'd lose two cat aspects of his life at once

Clark comes home late a few weeks later and finds Lois in her armchair and Bruce there with popcorn and X-Files queued up. Bruce sits on the opposite end of the couch, but he doesn't seem to mind when Clark tucks his legs up on the cushions and rests his feet against Bruce's thigh

Everyone still gives him cat toys too often

Selina spots Bruce in the lobby of her favourite ballet and the frills of a black lace choker are peaking out of his collar. She smiles

(Also for the next 4 years Hal will only show Batman as a cat during strategy simulations)

Anyway. Cat Bruce <33

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BRUCE WAYNE | BATFAMILY (generalized fanon)

—

Going to Carnival w/ Bruce + some of the other bats (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, established relationship(s), BATMOM, vigilante coordination, fluff, vacation, caribbean setting, civilian shenanigans, dancing, ✨the Fox Family ✨ -caribbean!reader

Mind my choppy ass yanking; it’s the story of my life, just go with it. Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (Pic source — Batman Vs Robin & Justice League: War DCAMU)

In true Bruce fashion he does extensive research for the occasion. He wants everything to go perfectly and can’t help but to obsess like the Batman he is.

He has to plan every last detail to make sure you have a brilliant time on your trip, obviously, but he also needs to make sure things with the rest of the Bats, Wayne Enterprises, the Justice League, and Arkham and Blackgate facilities will be okay while he’s gone. Gotham cannot fucking explode, implode, none of that shit while he’s on vacation; Bruce would never forgive himself.

Before you leave you give Bruce strict instructions that there is to be no working during your trip unless an emergency comes up. Predominantly - not wanting to disrupt what Dick has going on away from Gotham without good reason - you ask Jason to pull on the cowl for a day or two, to expand his usual patrol route as Red Hood, to keep in active contact with Stephanie (and maybe Kate), and to coordinate more closely with Barbara while Bruce is away.

In return for them picking up Bruce’s slack (more than usual, considering your husband has blind spots in his vigilantism that you are under no delusions about) you promise everyone something.

Steph her first handcrafted silver sterling bangle, Jason some fresh preserved lemongrass (some of which you’ll have to smuggle probably; but Bruce had a private jet for a reason and bringing regional herbs back to the States for his crime lord son, as someone who amounts to a long standing criminal himself, was by far the least illegal thing he’d done ever), to cover Barbara’s shifts as Oracle on coms for a few days while she’s away with the Birds of Prey, and to bring Kate back an island made covah/muumuu (in maroon) for the favor she was doing you.

Kate’s involvement at all is mostly due to her having been in the city by chance as Bruce was setting his vacation plans in motion; her and Luke happening to have just finished up their own mission overseas.

Superman is also aware that Bats is out of the country and is keeping an ear out (though he isn’t supposed to intervene without Jason or Babs asking with the exception of anything catastrophic happening so Superman isn’t indisposed without good reason). Neither you, nor Bruce, had needed to ask him either. Clark had heard all about how much Bruce was driving himself and, as a result, you up the wall for your (much needed in Bruce’s case) vacation from Lois after you’d spent half of Girl’s Night with her, Tanya, and Iris bemoaning your partner’s paranoia.

He’s straight up bemused when he's informed about Batman being “indisposed” for a week, but agrees to look out for the gloomy city while he’s away, and is smirking when he reminds Bruce to try letting that stick go lax for once while he’s in the tropics with you.

Bruce flushes to his ears and you laugh until you start to hack up a lung, hanging off of him as he holds you up by the waist and glares at his best friend. Clark plays dump like a master though, and eventually Bruce just has to grumble about him as you drag him back to the car to finish some last minute planning in Gotham.

Really, far too much work goes into just Bruce alone taking this trip with you. You can’t even imagine the hassle getting the other Bats you're close to down to your island for a visit will be.

You only get stopped by a handful of people during the trip as a whole (mostly visiting Americans), but the majority of people don’t recognize Bruce since he’s Gotham royalty. Because of this he doesn’t have to put on the Brucie persona outside of whatever expensive suite you’re staying in, and he doesn’t have to be Batman during the trip either, which helps him relax significantly better since he can just be Bruce. Like this he gets to be a regular person more than he’d usually get the opportunity to be when spending mundane civilian time as a couple (and as a family) in public.

The moment Damian sees more than two wild dogs Bruce and you have to pull out the ‘no picking up strays’ lecture because even through the rear view mirror you can see the glint in his eyes.

Bruce plans for Damian (and Duke, if he’s able to pull him away) to attend Children’s Parade. If Duke comes he squints at you the second the announcer explains which event exactly he’s at, but you just stare at him right back and remind him that he is a child and that he needs to get up out your face and go do child shit already.

Damian is rather worse, but you lead the group closer to the steelpan players warming up and soon his complaining is drowned out by the beginnings of music. He stops speaking to glower at you and you only raise a brow alongside Bruce before he eventually gives in with a huff. Duke pats him on the back and leads him away to ‘go do child shit’.

Damian likes the parade, even at fourteen he’s not too old for that much despite the clear interest he tries to play off. And while he’s not going to be mystified by the Moko Jumbies (which you didn’t expect him to be) the fourteen year old does fully lock onto them when they come walking by and playing around on their stilts and decked in their colorful clothing and madras.

Cass agrees to come (mostly because she likes you, and also because Duke pouted about it) and ends up loving the majorettes. She follows every single group and cheers within her own limits the entire time.

Cass follows so closely to the steelpan players during their performance that you’re genuinely worried for her eardrums until you glance at Bruce worryingly and he gestures to his ears in explanation. Ear plugs; shed be alright.

Cass (and Luke) leave to go deal with some business that needs her that the Outsiders are dealing with, and instructs you fully to keep Bruce out of the loop until you get back from the trip, poking fun at Bruce before she leaves to go flaunt her expertise.

Duke is disappointed she’s going and that he won’t be able to meet up with the Outsiders again, but when you try nudging him to leave he shoots you down. They didn’t need him, he reasons. Plus, it was rare he ever got a true break from being Signal so he planned on taking advantage of the occasion— and vehemently stomping down the misplaced guilt he was feeling bcs of that with some help from Bruce.

Duke doesn’t tell you, and neither does Damian, but your youngest isn’t as aggrieved as he *thinks* he should be about the break from fighting villains and running around on rooftops that he’s taking either, even more so than Duke right then.

After Cass is gone you guys lose Duke and Dami for a solid three hours. Most every call to them is answered, but only with a cryptic reassurance that they aren’t doing anything illegal. When they finally do come back they keep mum about what they were up to but smell suspiciously of soot.

Bruce fully suspects that they managed to get into the building where the fireworks and pyrotechnics are being kept. You give the boys a stern look but make Bruce let it go since nothing actually managed to go up in flames, and because you’re sure they had a good reason (*cue mom glare*).

Duke might not be your son but he still helps Damian bribe you with some of the foods you haven’t been able to have as authentically in Gotham until you convince Bruce to let them run off again.

Shock of all shocks (not) Damian prefers coconut tarts.

Duke wants to like the pineapple tarts — because it’s “on brand” — but it’s the guava that wins him over.

Unlike his son Bruce is not a fan of any of the tarts, but you’ve long realized that he likes less obtrusive sweet things like banana fritters more.

Damian and Duke at random intervals intercept you and Bruce walking around to inquire about certain murals, art installations, or statues that you’re passing.

Duke also steadily extracts a promise from you to put together a playlist with all the soca music playing around ayo during the parade in it for him to listen to whenever he’s in a music mood. Shazam just wasn’t moving fast enough for him to collect the songs himself while also running around.

By the end of the night (ayo have been out since Carnival started) Duke has his face painted, there’s confetti in his hair, and he’s legitimately ready to go to sleep due to how hard he'd been ramping all over the place. In comparison, Damian’s neck is decorated with beaded necklace after beaded necklace, he’s eaten more tarts than you could keep track of, and is still as ready to conquer the night as ever.

Neither boy particularly likes the fireworks, though Duke is more forgiving since he’s mostly just tired. Bruce likes seeing the way you light up though. While you don’t stay all the way through the show you do stay for a good while because Bruce loves you and wants you to enjoy yourself.

You and Bruce attend Adult’s Parade on your own. Though you’re sure that the boys are getting up to trouble, also running off from where you’re all staying, since you only really have Lucious and Tanya free enough to verbally check up on and keep an eye on Damian and Duke (and their trackers). Lucious had volunteered to keep closer track of their positions during his months long leave — rather than Barbara having to do so when she needed to focus more on coordinating everyone back in Gotham — and Tanya hadn’t minded. It wasn’t like checking in actually stopped her and her husband from doing anything. Bruce promises them a care package anyway.

Bruce wouldn’t really like dancing in the parade circuit or being a part of a troop. He’d much rather prefer the other days of Carnival to attend with you specifically: live concert days, cultural nights, art galleries, and most especially touring any of the island's historical sights.

He’s not as generally excited about the food, but he does love (if you’re inclined) how partial you are to the options presented by all the food vendors and is more than willing to indulge you.

If there’s one available he’ll sign you guys up for a sightseeing relay race as a surprise. How good or bad of a surprise you view the race through your island’s various monuments and beaches depends on you. Honestly, there’s a high chance you didn’t even know they held a race for the event season.

All of these things are just a much more mellow way for Bruce to connect with you and for you both to share in your culture.

He will, however, absolutely not deny you going to dance with a troop at all despite participating in the parade not being his thing. Depending on what you want he either won’t or will come (and if he doesn’t it’s bcs you’ve gone with your friends or whatever), but if he does come Bruce will under no circumstances dance in front of so many people when he’s not having to put on the Brucie persona (which he certainly doesn’t want to put on whilst on vacation).

Mostly Bruce just goes with you but doesn’t dance (it’s hard to follow/track people on the sidelines behind gates and/or between people sitting or standing on the sides of the street to watch the parade).

Mostly lets you dress him begrudgingly. Though he does like matching with you he still isn’t used to being dressed so loudly and inconspicuously.

Bruce is dressed for the weather (only in all red) and wearing shades. His hair is all fluffy without any product in it and he’s wearing fishnets and streams of ribbons that match the ones you’re wearing with your full getup of colorful billowing fabrics, short clothes, and sequin adornments in matching with your troop/section of the parade and the band you’re dancing with.

He’s perfectly happy to hold onto things for you and others if need be and is otherwise not broody or anything. Even just getting him to have a little bounce in his step while walking with you is a win that’s easy to come by.

Bruce is also an absolute sight in fishnets. If the tabloid and gossip mags could see his abs in the colorful sleeveless fishnet “shirt” he’s got on under his short sleeve button up they’d be losing their minds as much as you are. He looks very nice and you tell him as much when you’re pinning and draping streams of colorful madras and printed fabric to the shoulders of his shirt.

In turn Bruce literally pauses mid call, earpiece in, when you come out of the bathroom dressed in your Carnival gear (or outfit, if you’re not a part of a more strict troop). In your shorts and colorful ribbons and ting you’re a vision and he nearly forgets to end his call before crowding you for a kiss.

The ribbons you’re wearing, and that you’ve pinned to Bruce as well, are traditionally reminiscent of maypole ribbons that your forebears had stripped the poles of in order to wear them in celebration of their freedom.

As opposed to wearing comfortable sneakers you’re in the pair of practical combat boots Bruce got you that you’ve decorated to be on theme with the rest of your getup. He is also in those same boots in his own size.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing feathers and an intricate headpiece then Bruce is wearing an approximation of your costume too. He’s still dressed in an expensive pair of board shorts and a linen short sleeve button down, but now he’d be in all black with his only pops of bright colors being from the parts of his outfit that match what you’re wearing. You’re both wearing matching arm/leg bracers & the same feathers you used have been adorned to make a little crown at the back of his head like the one you’re wearing.

Bruce is decked out with jewel accents and sequins too and you're almost shocked at how much he’s indulged you by the time you're finished getting him ready.

To match with the brightly colored boot covers you’re wearing to match the main feathers of your troop’s costumes you give him similarly colored ribbons to tie to the tops of his boots. It’s cute, and you tell Bruce as much just so you can see him blush.

No matter how you’re dressed Bruce stays compliant as you help get him together; letting you talk in circles at his continued prompting about the history steeped into the event you’re getting ready for. His voice is soft as he leads you into explaining the reasons behind the various things you’re decorating him with for the celebration.

Because Bruce isn’t fully matching with the troop he stays at the back of the line (though this does depend on how strict the troop is). You move throughout as you please while dancing and looking uniform with the other women you’re with, but you still gravitate back into Bruce’s orbit intermittently as well.

Bruce absolutely lets you dance on him even though he’s not dancing himself, and he also brings wipes for whenever you drop down to your hands to wukup with your hands to the ground and ass to the air or lose your balance while dancing low to the ground and have to catch yourself.

He loves watching, and he is both happy you’re happy and very eager to get you alone again. You don’t have to hold back or tamp yourself down with Bruce.

If you’re less built for long term walking, or older and been with Bruce for a hot minute, you’re going to end up on Bruce’s back at some point, your knees just aren’t up for the journey the way your spirit is. He’s happy to carry you, and it’s his insistence when he sees you starting to limp or asking for whatever walking aid you might have that gets you hanging off his shoulders in the first place.

You are absolutely no less wutless up there, however, and Bruce only laughs and hikes you up more securely as you cheer and wukup and wine your waist as he’s carrying you. This was a celebration of freedom and emancipation after all, you were going to be as excited and hype as you could possibly be.

From your new vantage point you kiss him on the cheek too and he’s smiling ear to ear the whole time.

When you go to the other events outside of the parades Bruce is more of an active participant.

At concerts Bruce hums. He’s not somehow immune to music or anything, and he tends to hum whenever he lets his mind wander no matter how scarcely he actually allows himself to relax that thoroughly even when you’re back in Gotham. So you’re not shocked when he starts humming while you’re enjoying the live concert music.

When he becomes attuned enough to the rhythms he sways, movements unhurried and gentle, and pulls you closer until you’re both rocking. His arms wrapped around your middle, his warmth at your back, and voice in your ear are a greater balm to your spirit than most anything else on the entire planet and you let Bruce support a lot of your weight as you sing along to the musical acts you're familiar with.

He’s stiff as a board the second you try dragging him into full blown dancing, however. You only laugh at him staring at you like you’re about to announce he’s Batman to the whole of the island, and you know it’s about time you guys find some place to sit down (and hopefully eat) since you’ve been out since daybreak.

Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas, so it is near impossible to get his backside drunk by any normal means. Due to this you don’t really end up drunk either, you just end up feeding him sips of half shots of different flavors of rum and have a blast as he rates them while ayo laugh together and listen to people pound melee around you and eat your dinner.

Come to find out Bruce cannot stand coconut rum. You’re thinking coconut and him just don’t agree, and vow to crack one open fresh so he can try some coconut jelly as the real test of his preference.

Throughout the entire trip Bruce actually likes the tan he develops, no matter how used you both are to his Gotham pallor.

The darker, richer, sheen to the brown plains of your skin that you develop over the course of the trip throws Bruce similarly into a tailspin as his tan does you. He loves it, and your new shine coupled with just how much more radiant your excitement at being back in your element has made you has him calling you all variations of beautiful more often than is even his usual (which is saying something because your husband can’t get enough of you and makes a point of never letting you forget).

You also catch Bruce checking in on everyone’s nighttime activities back in Gotham two days in and can only sigh as you press his computer closed and cock your eyebrow at him. He at least has the sense to look embarrassed, grunting a short excuse before he apologizes. The rest of your trip goes on without a hitch after that, however (as far as you know).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I’m nervous about this one, I’m not even going to lie, but whatever.

Anyway, I have other characters I want to put in this type of scenario as well so let me know if there’s anything specific you’d maybe like to see. This isn’t all encompassing either, but just what’s come to me by now.

Also, I want to write for the Foxes, but I’ve got to read up on them more before then so it’ll be a while. Also also, we’re going to pretend like all of these characters’ lives are actually stable — and that Tanya in particular doesn’t despise masked vigilantes because I’m allowed to want that (tho that might only be Future State timeline shit so idk).

This fic has a series tag so if you’d like to read the other festival/carnival entries then clicking on that tag would be how you’d find them.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Caribbean words of the Day (ie: the glossary):

“Ayo” (pronounced “īˈyō” 2 syllables) — meaning and use equivalent to “you all” or “y’all”. There’s also a greater origin to where the word as a whole comes from but I’m not going to get into all of that rn.

“Nuh Raas” — I don’t really have a direct translation for this one; the most I can do is compare its use to “like fuck” or “as hell” and other comparative sayings like those. It’s a way to further exaggerate something; think “very”.

EX: “Bruce’s tolerance is very high.” = “Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas.” 🤷🏾‍♀️

“Pound Melee” — the action of gossiping; seriously talking other people’s business or talking shit.

“Wutless” — Meaning ‘troublesome’; a

Caribbean slang, also means to not care profoundly about anything, and just having a hell of a time not caring what anyone says or thinks of you. (def taken from here, though I spelt it differently bcs that how I hear it)

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean*

[dontbesoweirdkira]

AH DO I LOVE YOU RANTING

about the weaponized incompetence batsis, thing is what you said is true about them not really that insistent to force reader to the vigilante route because she DOES have a valid reason. Barbara? On a wheelchair. Jason? Tortured, dead, replaced, revived. Steph and Cass? Dead and revived. Happened too many times already to kids under Batman. If anything it's called self-preservation.

I think that honestly the being peeved and possible jealousy is also true. If reader were to be skilled than most YET refuses to join? Boy. Jealousy of her skills, peeved at her indifference.

I can see potential routes to this.

A) Reader still weaponizing her incompetence, while the Batfam has mixed feelings of jealousy, peeved, disappointment yet can't bring themselves to force her because she is right! Girly just wants to remain alive.

B) If reader is petty as fuck, going foul aka bringing up the deaths and failures of her siblings during an argument with batfam, telling him that he got blood on his hands.

C) Somehow ending up as a vigilante but again, a petty as fuck one. REFUSES to be associated with the batfam, even having a really different aesthetic and working separately. Either kill like Jason OR do everything bad minus killing to the enemy to spite Batman.

D) If she has an assassin mama, goes back to her mother's side of the family because she ain't dealing with Bruce.

Hello again! I'm happy you enjoyed the last post :)))

For an interesting plot, if you were to write it, i'd say go with the kids being upset/jealous with the reader thus thrusting her into the line of fights with them. They want her to be side by side with them. Patrol is not always about crime fighting because some nights nothing happens. It's a bonding moment. They rooftop hop and act silly, they want you there with them. They feel like you don't want to be there with them...it's hurtful. They bug Bruce about it to get him to force you into it but he allows you to choose. They might be pissed because they didn't really get a choice. You're going to be here with your siblings.

Maybe they don't fully understand your worry because all of them will obviously protect you. Especially the older ones in the group. You'll be fine. You don't get to be miss perfect, Bad things happen and you don't get to escape that out of fear.

I personally would say C option. Perfect example of weaponized incompetence . Jason would be loving you so much. Ya'll would be amazing together and everyone else is like...maybe don't be so brutal?? they'd try to split you up and explain what you are doing wrong. Doesn't work obvi and you are back to being a menace with Jay.

Bruce would intervene and maybe threaten you with going back to your moms. Or maybe he'd force you to stay back like you wanted...Who knows.

But B is my personal favorite because i live for Bruce slanderrrrrrr. Spit on him too just to add extra flavor.

All of these are good options though!! A lot for the imagination. Especially depending on how you view each character. You can get insanely dark with this if you want tooo.

[jennaispunk]

A Sunday Kind of Love

Summary: A lazy Sunday afternoon at the Miller House.

Pairing: Married!Joel Miller(Jackson!Joel) x f!reader(wife)

Rating: T

Word Count 1.2k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, domesticity, soft!Joel, reader(wife) can be picked up by Joel but no other physical description is given. Photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

A/N: This was written for @beefrobeefcal Joel Sat on Me ‘24 challenge (Sorry this is so late,bb. I know fluff ain’t your stuff, but I hope you enjoy it anyway). This is what Joel deserves, to grow old and be happy with the love of his life. Special thanks to @sawymredfox for reading this over for me.

Moodboard by me. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sundays were meant for rest, a day to relax and recharge. Joel wasn’t on patrol, and you didn’t have to be at the stables. Honestly, it was your favorite day of the week. It was just the two of you, Ellie was at Dina’s. Nothing but peace and quiet surrounded you.

The late afternoon sun streams through the front window, warming your face. There’s not a single cloud marring the cerulean Wyoming sky. You lay on your back, stretched out on the worn sofa in your living room, your feet carefully tucked under your husband’s arm.

Although this couch had definitely seen better days, it was comfortable. In a way, it was a lot like Joel; a little rough around the edges but still a safe, cozy place to lay your head.

The birds chirp out a chorus, accompanying Joel as he strums a lazy tune on his guitar. A smile slowly spreads across your face as you immediately recognize the song, “Wish You Were Here”, by Pink Floyd. That song evokes memories, both happy and sad, for you both.

This is your favorite version of Joel, the one that’s relaxed and content, with a hint of a smile on his plush lips. Not much has changed about Joel since you’ve known him, except his waistline. You can’t help but notice how his jeans are a little snugger around his thighs and the way his flannel stretches across his belly as he leans his guitar against the wall next to the couch. It’s not really his fault, you all but forced him to become your official taste tester now that Mrs. Callahan is teaching you how to bake in exchange for giving her granddaughter horseback riding lessons. His growing belly is all the proof you need to know your baking skills have definitely improved.

You don’t mind the change, in fact, you like it. As far as you're concerned, it’s just more of him to love. His extra cushion keeps you warm now that the nights are getting a little colder, and his belly presses against you in the perfect way when he’s on top of you.

A brisk October breeze flows through the open window making you shiver a little. You reflexively wiggle your toes even further under Joel’s arm. The slight twitch of Joel’s body makes you smirk.

“Joel Miller, you’re ticklish.”

How could you not know this about the man you married? How had you never discovered this lovely little secret?

“M’not.” He grumbles.

He denies it too quickly, and your toes probe the area once again eliciting a soft chuckle and an even bigger jerk of his body.

“Careful, angel.” He warns, his eyes playfully narrowing. “If you keep on, you're going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.” You giggle and hold your hand out and make it tremble. A devious smirk plays on your lips.

You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you go for the kill, hands descending on that spot. His laughter rumbles through the air and you feel his belly shake. He manages to push your hands away, his eyes narrowing at you and it his turn to smirk.

“You’re really asking for it.”

Your eyebrows jerk to the sky in a silent taunt.

“Gotta catch me first, babe.”

You sprint away from the couch with him hot on your heels. You can’t stop squealing and laughing as he chases you around the kitchen toward the dining room table. You run around the table and immediately realize your mistake when you give yourself a moment to catch your breath.

Joel stares at you, eyes gleaming with mischief from across the table ready to pounce. He’s got you cornered with nowhere to go. You know you’re fucked but you juke right and make a mad dash to the left only to have Joel scoop you up and toss you over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes. You flail, laughing and gasping for air as he carries you to the bedroom.

“No, no, no.” you squeal as he throws you down on the bed.

He crawls on top of you pinning your hips to the bed between his thighs.

“Get off me, you big ol’ bear.” you giggle as your hands weakly try to push him away and you squirm under him.

“Too late.” he grumbles, smiling as he captures both your wrists in one hand and pins them to the bed above your head.

“You asked for this, angel.” He proceeds to assault your sides with his free hand, hitting your most ticklish area.

His thick thighs have rendered you incapable of moving anything but your lower legs, which are kicking wildly in vain. Your laughter fills the room between your gasps for air.

Tears trickle down your cheeks as your face begins to darken from laughing so hard. You know he’s taking pleasure in watching you writhe under him, struggling against his large body.

“Joel…” you plead. “Joel, please…I can’t…breathe…”

His hand slows to a stop, and he just watches you as you catch your breath. You look so beautiful with your face all flushed, your cheeks damp with tears of laughter. How did I get so goddamn lucky?

He lifts up and pushes your thighs apart, settling between them. His belly presses firmly against your core. He’s the best weighted blanket you ever had.

“Easy, honey.” He purrs, his voice low and gravely. “Just breathe.”

A few stray giggles escape your lips as you slowly begin to calm down. This is what it’s all about, what makes everything the two of you have been through worth it. This perfect moment when the rest of the world just disappears and the two of you are the only thing that exists.

“I love you so much, pretty girl.”

He presses his lips to yours. His tongue gently teases your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

You part your lips for him, getting lost in the feel of his weight pressing you firmly into the mattress. You’re completely at his mercy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A rough hand glides down your side to the waistband of your leggings, his other hand still restraining your wrists above your head. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, something he likes to do to remind himself that your real and not just a figment of his imagination. You’re here, and you’re his.

“I love you, too.”

You hum softly as his lips brush against your jaw, his scruff lightly dragging across your skin. You never thought you’d find happiness again after being alone for so long, but happiness was right in front of you in the form of a burly former contractor that almost everyone else in Jackson was just a little afraid of.

He lets go of your wrists and pushes your shirt up over your stomach as his lips continue to lovingly assault the soft skin of your neck.

“Aren’t we supposed to be at Tommy and Maria’s for Sunday dinner soon?”

His warm breath tickles your neck as he chuckles softly.

“Yeah...” he breathes against your skin. “but they can wait.”

You can’t help but giggle as he playfully nips your neck, right over the spot that makes you arch your back into him.

Joel’s right. They can definitely wait.

[winged-self-indulgence]

🔞 I could fix him 🔞

It was one of those days.

Ray was getting better at predicting them; the mornings when he’d wake up truly feeling the weight of the world resting on his shoulders, threatening to flatten him beneath the smothering mantle of responsibility that had been dumped – knowingly or unknowingly – upon his shoulders. Usually those were the days he’d call in sick if he was feeling charitable, or simply not show up to the NAHA office if not and just spend the entire day with you.

Although the two of you lived separately, it had quickly become clear that the arrangement was mostly nominal in nature. When Ray wasn’t out patrolling and saving the world from monstrous threats, he was at your apartment listening to your voice. And when you weren’t at work, you were at his apartment filling the once impersonal corners with the sound of music, the scent of home-cooked meals, and little knick-knacks you thought he’d like.

Most nights you fell asleep in each other’s arms, and every morning you never let him go to work without two kisses goodbye – one for ‘be safe’, the other for ‘I love you’. Ray swore they gave him energy to get through the day, just knowing you were home waiting for him, that you still loved and accepted him – flaws, monstrous desires and all. When the abyss in his chest threatened to spiral out of control, remembering that grounded him back to reality. Made him want to stay here, stay present, stay with you.

Unfortunately, it was one of those days where the NAHA were being even more annoying than usual. Half of the heroes who were supposed to be patrolling didn’t show up, and most of the ones who did bother to turn up seemed content to kick back the moment they spotted Ray’s name on the roster. The NAHA had scheduled him for three TV interviews before lunch, and during the second one a villain had attempted to blow up the studio building. While saving civilians and crew members from the inferno, one of the presenters – a popular social media celebrity if he recalled correctly – had tried to kiss him in front of the cameras. It was only decades of ingrained self-control that prevented Ray from ripping their head clean off their neck and tossing it and their body into the sky to join the rest of the trash circling the earth’s atmosphere, though he did take a great deal of spite in dropping them from just a little too high off the ground. If something happened to their anklebones, that was hardly his fault.

All in all, by the time Binary Star Hero pushed open the door to his apartment, he was ready to drop. If he could have curled up in bed and put himself into a coma for the next few business days, he would have done so in a heartbeat.

However, he paused at the entryway, surprised by the scent pervading his condo. The sweetness of coconut milk melded silkily with the warm, earthy scent of chili and cumin, which combined with the floral aroma of rosemary, thyme, and a dozen other herbs he couldn’t quite parse. Ray followed his nose to the kitchen, expecting to find you there, but only spotting a large pot bubbling on the stove – the flames turned down low to keep the soup simmering low and slow.

That meant you still had to be in the condo, but it was strange that you hadn’t called out to him. “Star?” Heartbeat ratcheting up, Ray turned to search the rest of the rooms, and just as quickly as the flare of panic had overtaken him it vanished as soon as he spotted you.

The original couch in the condo hadn’t been comfortable, the whole space having been designed more for aesthetics than coziness. Prior to meeting you, Ray had barely spent any time in his own home. After meeting you, bringing you home, and then listening to you whine about how his couch cushions felt more like glittery rocks, he’d immediately purchased a new couch. One with thicker padding, ergonomic armrests, and a built-in sofa-bed.

Cute. You were so fucking cute.

There you were, curled up on the couch with one of his jackets pulled over your torso for warmth, leaving your legs exposed to the cool evening air. Chuckling airily to himself, Ray leaned over to brush a strand of hair from your cheek, allowing the safe warmth of your presence to settle him. Just as he was about to fetch a proper blanket for you, his eyes caught on something strange.

Ray blinked, then froze entirely when he spotted a familiar shade of fabric. It barely took any of his strength to tug the jacket collar down, enough to reveal a maroon-red neckline. His sweater. You were wearing his sweater.

And not much else else, if your bare legs were anything to go by.

“Mmph. Ray?” The man watched you stir to life, yawning and blinking back the lingering remnants of sleep. “You’re home. Ugh, what time is it?”

His gaze sharpened when you sat up and stretched, inadvertently knocking the jacket off completely. The jumper, already meant to be oversized on his 6ft-something frame, was practically drowning you. The collar splayed wide, exposing the bruised slope of your shoulder and neck – still marked up from last night. The sleeves had been rolled up, presumably so they wouldn’t get in the way while you cooked, but one had come loose during your nap and now only the tips of your fingers were visible as you lifted a hand to rub the corner of your eye.

Concerned by the extended silence, you craned your neck up to look at your boyfriend. “Ray?” You called, and then let out a strangled yelp when he immediately flopped on top of you. On instinct your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Bad day?” You guessed.

“Mm. Just let me stay like this for a while, Star,” he murmured, inhaling the heady scent of your skin, and exhaling the words into the curve of your throat.

“Food’s gonna be ready soon,” you told him, dropping a fluttering kiss against his forehead. Ray closed his eyes, blissfully receiving the gesture as a benediction. “We can watch something stupid later and eat all the ice cream I bought. I will even allow you to have some of my cookies and cream bars.”

Ray listened to you ramble with one ear, paying half of his attention to the gentle cadence of your voice while the rest focused on the steady thump-thump-thump of your heart between your ribs. The reminder that you were still here, that he was still here, that you were his. 

Soon listening wasn’t enough. The rhythm in your chest stuttered and sped up, responding to the hands dragging over your body with absentminded possessiveness. Warm fingers, rough with scars and calluses, squeezed the inside of your thighs before sliding under the hem of your – or more specifically, his – shirt. They moved higher, groping the dip of your hips, the small of your waist, the softness of your ass. By the time those fingers reached your nipples you were a sensitive wreck, barely touched and yet your body was aflame with directionless heat.

“R-Ray…” You squirmed in place, one hand raised to your lips to stifle the keening noise escaping from the back of your throat, knees turning inward as you tried to squeeze your thighs shut. With careless ease, Ray elbowed your legs apart. He sat up, smiling idly at the cute picture you made. Flat on your back and sprawled beneath him, sweater shoved all the way up to your collar, exposing your gorgeous body to his intense gaze. The low lamplight cast shadows over you, exposing parts of your flushed skin and hiding others tantalizingly from view. “Ray, w-what about dinner…?”

“Mm. It’ll be fine,” he murmured lazily, unbuckling his jeans and never taking his dark eyes off you for a single moment. Ray’s movements were slow, lethargic, and full of methodical intent as his cock flopped out – swollen thick, heavy, and dripping with precum. “Just let me have this, Star.”

You’d always known that Ray was strong. Superstrength was one of the most basic hero abilities, one that often came as a passive perk with other powers. However you had underestimated how much he’d been holding back, because it barely took more than the flick of a finger for him to rip your underwear completely off.

“You’re soaked, Star,” he chuckled, knuckles running idly over your sex and causing more juices to leak out. You gasped when he leaned over you, letting the tip of his cock press against your hole. Not in, simply tapping against your wet entrance, drawing circles, or pressing just enough for the fat head to almost pop in.

He pulled away briefly, admiring the sticky strings of both of your juices connecting his cockhead to your puffy sex. His attitude was a direct contrast with yours, almost sleepily calm while you were whining and thrashing underneath his bulk, unable to do anything other than endure the burning torture.

The orgasm crept up on you. Not stalking you through the shadows, but like a monster you could see coming and would never be able to fight off no matter how hard you tried. It hit you like a tsunami, an arching wave of pleasure so good it hurt. You sobbed and thrashed, pinned beneath Ray while he watched you with that same, sleepy smile, as if you were an adorable toy being played with.

“Pretty little thing,” the man cooed as he rocked his hips in a slow, painfully pleasurable grind, forcing you through another choking orgasm on the cusp of the last one. “So good for me, aren’t you, my Star? Mm. I think I need a little more.”

[narxcisse]

★ — Dating Jaytemis: General Headcanons

Pairing: Jaytemis x GN!Reader

CW: pure fluff, polygamy/threesome, reader is a outlaw, Artemis is the alpha of the relationship, I feel bad for excluding Bizarro

English isn't my native language

Jason is the heart of the trio, deeply caring for both of you but showing his affection in his unique, often sarcastic way.

Artemis is the protective one, a strong and steady presence who’s always ready to step in for emotional or physical support. She balances Jason’s chaotic energy with her grounded approach.

You, depending on your personality, could be the peacemaker or the one who stirs the pot (and they secretly love either dynamic). Together, you’re the glue that holds the trio together.

The relationship begins unintentionally—Jason introduces you to Artemis, and the chemistry is palpable.

They both have their doubts about whether a poly relationship would work, given their strong personalities and their histories. However, their mutual affection for you and growing fondness for each other push them to try.

Jason is the one who suggests making things official, though he acts like it’s a casual proposal: “Well, we’re all kind of doing this anyway, so why not just admit it?”

Living arrangements are an interesting challenge. Jason insists on being the one to handle Gotham’s chaos, but Artemis refuses to let him do it alone, often dragging you into a battle of “who protects Jason better.”

The three of you share a loft when you’re all together—somewhere between Gotham and wherever Artemis is stationed at the time. It’s filled with mismatched but comfortable furniture, Jason’s hidden stash of snacks, and Artemis’s surprisingly cozy aesthetic.

Cuddles are non-negotiable. Jason is a grudgingly affectionate cuddle bug, and Artemis is like a weighted blanket. You’re always sandwiched between the two of them during movie nights.

Jason’s love language is a mix of quality time and acts of service. He’s terrible at expressing feelings directly but will silently patch your gear, bring you coffee during late nights, or fix Artemis’s weaponry without being asked.

Artemis’s love language is physical touch and words of affirmation. She’s the one who pulls you into a strong hug after missions and whispers encouragement during tough times.

Jason’s temper can sometimes clash with Artemis’s unwavering sense of righteousness, especially when it comes to decisions about danger.

You’re often the mediator, calming Jason down with humor or reminding Artemis that Jason’s instincts are usually spot-on.

The fights rarely last long, and they both make it a point to never leave you feeling caught in the middle. Jason always apologizes with self-deprecating humor, and Artemis’s apologies are firm, direct, and followed by comforting gestures.

Training together is a favorite activity. Artemis often teases Jason about his form while simultaneously praising your progress, which drives him to work harder.

Cooking nights are chaotic. Jason burns something almost every time, Artemis is surprisingly decent in the kitchen, and you’re the one trying to wrangle them both into cooperation.

Patrols are a mix of professional and playful. Jason takes Gotham’s crime personally, Artemis treats it like a moral duty, and you keep them grounded (and sometimes remind them not to compete over who takes down the most bad guys).

Vacations are rare but cherished. Artemis insists on somewhere remote, Jason prefers urban chaos, and you’re just happy to see them both relax.

Neither gets jealous of you giving attention to the other—they trust you and respect each other. However, outsiders are a different story.

Jason gets protective in a “glare from the shadows” kind of way if someone flirts with you or Artemis.

Artemis takes a more direct approach, standing tall and giving off an intimidating aura that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

Their personalities shine in private moments: Jason’s vulnerability and softness come through, and Artemis becomes incredibly tender. They’re both attuned to your needs, and there’s a strong sense of trust and safety.

They make it a point to show you that you’re equally loved and cherished, regardless of the dynamics at play.

Jason struggles with guilt and self-worth, and both you and Artemis are there to pull him out of his darker moments.

Artemis carries the weight of her past and her responsibilities, and you and Jason remind her that she’s allowed to rest and lean on others.

When you’re feeling overwhelmed, Jason’s dry humor and Artemis’s nurturing side create the perfect balance to lift your spirits.

Despite your differences, you’re an unstoppable team.

You share a deep sense of loyalty and understanding, always putting each other first.

Together, you create a space of love, trust, and support—a perfect blend of chaos and stability.

It’s one of those rare nights when all three of you are finally off duty. Gotham is quiet, and there’s a soft drizzle outside that makes the city look even more distant than usual. You, Jason, and Artemis have decided to spend the evening at your loft, away from the chaos of your usual lives.

The three of you are sprawled out on the couch, with you in the middle. Jason has his arm casually slung over your shoulders, his hand resting on your arm. Artemis is sitting next to you, her legs stretched out across your lap, her head leaning lightly against your shoulder. You’ve all opted for something low-key tonight: watching an old action movie you’ve all seen a hundred times before. Jason’s been quoting the lines before the characters even speak them.

As the movie plays, you can’t help but smile at the warmth between the three of you. There’s a sense of contentment that’s rare in your line of work, and it’s something that the three of you cling to in moments like this.

Jason nudges you with his elbow, a teasing smirk on his face. “You’re gonna fall asleep if you keep that up,” he says, noticing you starting to nod off.

“Maybe,” you reply with a grin, “but it’s your fault for being so comfortable.”

Artemis chuckles from where her head rests on your shoulder, her hand reaching over to tug at Jason’s sleeve. “Don’t give them any ideas, Jay. We’re all supposed to be ‘relaxing,’ not picking on each other.”

Jason shrugs, his smirk softening as he glances at the both of you. “Okay, fine. I’ll let them nap, but only because they’re too cute to mess with tonight.”

You feel your cheeks warm, and before you can protest, Artemis shifts her head so that she can gently nudge you with her forehead. “We’re cute, huh? I think it’s you who’s cute, throwing your sarcastic remarks while clearly melting into the couch with us.”

Jason pretends to look offended, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now I’m the one ‘melting’?”

Artemis rolls her eyes playfully. “I think we both know you’re the softest one here.” She pats your leg as she looks up at you with affection.

You laugh quietly, feeling the weight of both their love and their teasing. “Okay, I guess we’re all pretty soft then.”

Jason leans in closer, brushing his lips against your temple in a rare moment of tenderness. “Definitely.” Then he shifts to put his head on your lap, making you laugh even harder.

Artemis looks at you both, her hand absentmindedly running through your hair, her smile fond and content. “You know, this is nice. More nights like this, please.”

“Agreed,” you say, looking down at the two of them. “Let’s make a deal—no more patrols for the rest of the night. Just us.”

Jason’s voice is muffled against your legs as he responds. “You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

You settle into the peaceful moment, all of you content and wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. It’s a rare, quiet happiness—one that’s a stark contrast to your usual lives. But for tonight, it’s enough.

[loremaster]

Nocturnal Detective Agency x Pokemon

— Rival Desuhiko —

Ditto: for its transformation ability! duh!

Cosplay Pikachu: wearing a replica of human Desuhiko’s outfit, mimics all his mannerisms perfectly.

Yamper: energetic puppy dog, fits his aesthetic

— Ace Trainer Halara —

Iron Valiant: gender

Gholdengo: money. also gender

Starmie: gender

However…

— Professor Yakou —

Noctowl: Nocturnal detectives need a nocturnal partner to help patrol the skies at night (what what)

Growlithe: lights his cigarettes for him. also puppy

Magikarp: it sucks

— Lass Fubuki —

Gardevoir (shiny): given to her as a young child, has been her companion ever since.

Celebi: just found it one day :) isn’t it cute?

Jigglypuff: a completely normal average Jigglypuff

— Ace Trainer Vivia —

Musharna: mastery over the realm of dreams

Gengar: a spy who can slip into the shadows

Hisuian Typhlosion: avenger of spirits long past

(and there’s one other Pokemon that would join his team after losing its trainer… what could it be…)

———

I sketched these way back in August and was inspired to finally post them by @snivyartjpeg’s awesome PMD au!!

ENJOY! tell me which ones are your favorite! any choices you disagree with? debate me in the tags/replies B)

[axeoverblade]

Could you do headcanons about Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie having a tall and scary/intimidating s/o who is actually a big sweetheart? How they meet, first impressions, and dating stuff?? If that’s too much, no prob, alter it however you need to! :)

B. F. G

ATSV! squad x gn! reader

Synopsis! Never judge a book by its cover

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none!

Word count: unavailable

Authors comment: BONUS:GWEN, super cute lol hope this is what you wanted enjoy <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ

1610 MILES

Bro is scared of nothing (think Simba from look king “I laugh in the face of danger”)

So when he sees you out on patrol, it throws him off that he became so on guard

You’re making the hairs on the back of his neck stand

Would never tell you this but at first you were gonna be a bad guy

So when you helped a lil kid cross the street and paid for them to get ice cream, he was a wee bit confused

Tailed you for a long time on different days, and always saw you doing good things .

So at first he develops a lil identity crush, not a romantic crush on you

Like he thinks it’s cool that you have this presence about you and it’s completely different from how you actually are

He meets you as spider man before as himself

You actually helped him, not a lot but enough where you interacted with him for a bit and he thanked you for helping

You just stopped a guy from stealing an older woman’s purse by tripping the thief and returning the purse

Miles saw it as you could be the next spider man

Suddenly you keep seeing spiderman all the time (totally by accident and not because he learned your routine)

Talk to him so often you develop nicknames for each other.

Been months since you’ve known him and he like is obsessed with you, full on in love and everything

So he decides to reveal who he is

Obv you accept him, give him a hug saying you won’t tell anyone

So now you guys hang out as friends

Casually flirts with you all the time (he’s trying so hard to make u like him even though u alr do)

Makes u meet his parents

miles forgot your looks don’t match your personality

HIS PARENTS ARE SO ON GUARD

His dad gave you that look

The one that screams “ stay away from my child and take your thuggish activities out this house” when you first walked in

kinda made you sad cause you thought they didn’t like you and you haven’t even talked to him yet

After they get to know you through the night his parents legit love you

Say how much of a good influence you must be on Miles and tell Miles to be more like you

Tell you to come by anytime

(They could easily tell miles likes you and vise versa but don’t say anything)

So Miles finally works up the balls to confess

Happy moments and a kiss

Overall good day

When your walking hand in hand down the sidewalk and keep getting weird stares because of the high contrast in your auras it confuses people

but then you and Miles both smile and its the same super big bright smile, people get why you’re together

HOBIE BROWN

When he first saw you, standing as tall as him in the store with that “I’ll kill you if you come near me” energy he thought you would be an issue honestly

Thought you were cool but def though you were gonna try and fight anyone near you or something

He wasn’t in his suit cause he was washing it and was lowkey upset you caught him when he was just going to the store to restock his snacks instead of out on duty

But he was excited for what ever you were gonna do when you passed him because he wanted to fight today

“Accidentally” bumps into you to see how you respond

But when you smile at him sweetly, apologize, and keep it moving, bro is confused

Walks right back up to you and starts talking to you

Digs the inconsistency between your personality and your looks

Also digs just your looks

He thinks you're super attractive

Was quick to get with you, he knew he wanted you after that first convo at the store

You guys click so well aesthetically cause even though your brooding walking around and he looks all chill (and mischievous) like nothing can bother him, the way you two are holding hands with your thumb rubbing the back of each others palms is a dead give away you two are on the same page

Sometimes he sees you and is just like “you don’t match”

He never explains what he means by it but says it’s a good thing

Wasn’t scared at all to tell you he was spiderman

You two def go on swinging dates where he just takes you everywhere

Overall fun and happy times

PAVITR PRABHAKAR

He was a little nervous when he first saw you

Not because of your energy but because he thought you didn’t like him

Like you looked like if anyone approached you, you would rip their head off

So maybe he was a wee bit scared of how you looked

But he knew better than to judge appearances. Bro is so intuitive that he doesn’t need a meesily appearance to tell him who you are on the inside

So he walks up to you and says hi

The big smile that graces your face makes him smile big too

Happy he followed his intuition to just approach you

At first you two are just good friends

Anytime you two are in public you get weird looks

Like what’s this jolly looking fellow doing with you

Then you laugh at his antics all happily and they get it

You actually confessed first

As “intuitive” as he was he didn’t notice your feelings

Doesn’t take him by surprise though

Oh my gosh he is so happy and pda-ing in public and everyone is like are you sure you two are supposed to be together

But then your face lights up with this look of joy every time you look at him and people have no choice but to mind their business

It’s a good thing opposites attract, even though personality wise you two are very similar

Really happy he approached you despite his fear otherwise he would’ve never met the love of his life

BONUS! GWEN STACY

Gwen thought you were cool at first

Your height is what would’ve intimidated her not your aura

Like she isn’t scared or anything, just a little bit more on guard around you

she first met you at one of the band get together cause you were one of the band members friends

She didn’t want to judge on appearance though so she tries her best to keep her opinion about you to a minimum until she actually talked to you

Happy she did

saw you get up and get waters for everyone because “we should stay hydrated”

Thought it was cute how sweet you were

She approaches you and you two become friends quick

You two meet up regularly outside of band meets

Wouldn’t tell you that she found you super attractive (and vise versa)

Like not even looks, just you as a whole

Gives her scary dog privileges honestly

Likes yes she can one hundred percent defend herself and is more than capable

But no one even looks her way anymore when your with her

Made her happy to be left alone in the streets now

So you actually have to confess first

Sweetest confession ever got her flowers

She ofc says yes cause she had a crush on you too

You bake together all the time, even if one of you are good or bad; or both are good or bad at baking, you two are having fun

Meeting her dad was a given

At first he could’ve sworn you were a murderer

wasn’t feeling you at all

Then he had a convo with you and was like “oh okay I get it”

He loves how sweet you are and hopes you rub off on his daughter cause “she isn’t nice enough to him”

Happy relationship :)

©axeoverblade

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

batfam fragrance hcs pt 1

ft. bruce, dick and jason

bruce

as brucie? my man is old money, he's screaming penhaligon's to me

they have a very long history (est 1870) seems like the type of thing where like his father would've used it and so he picked it up

probably has a few from them, i'm imagining when he's trying to lean more into the billionaire playboy aesthetic he goes for the dandy

the dandy is an homage to endless nights. vintage whiskey from the oak barrel swims above a fruity finish of bergamot and raspberry. a woody celebration blended with mischief.

for more formal business settings, i imagine he'd go with the tragedy of lord george

yes, the irony of the name is not lost on me, especially when i think this would be more similar to what thomas wayne would wear

you can't tell me this doesn't look like it could be found in wayne manor

from the reviews, seems like it gives off 19th century gentleman's club, woody and warm with heart notes of tonka bean

noble patriarch, paragon of masculine elegance, lord george welcomes with a scent of shaving soap and warming rum. But what secrets hide behind tradition?

as batman? i don't think he'd wear any cologne just so that there's no identifiers

like imagine if his secret identity got found out because of his cologne, i fear THE batman would have already planned for that

if anything he probably sprays one of those like scent neutralizers so you don’t smell like anything

i think he would just smell like leather and metal from his suit and gadgets, that's' it

that goes for all of the batfam tbh bc bruce trained them better than that

dick

fresh, i feel like like out all of them he'd have the least offensive cologne (or maybe i’m just saying that because i hate the majority of men’s fragrances)

probably pretty light too, like mostly citrus, and fresh notes

imagine it's unisex but still leans masculine

so basically in the least weird way possible he smells absolutely delicious

i think he’s so acqua di parma coded, like very bright, complex blend of citrus. just evokes bright sunny days in the mediterranean

but i will say that some acqua di parma perfumes are almost a bit too citrus forward? and the ones that aren’t i don’t think really fit him, like colonia which is their signature is nice but feels a bit old fashioned for him

especially bergamotto di calabria, which has nice top notes of bergamot but also an interesting hint of ginger that sets the fragrance apart from other citrus perfumes on the market

i feel like it’s a very dick grayson thing to have a twist to his cologne

bergamotto di calabria is characterised by effervescent top notes of bergamot fruits. at the heart of this eau de toilette, accords of red ginger and cedar wood bring a calming note while the base is rounded off with a unique combination of vetiver, benzoin, and musk.

jason

i fear he would use axe body spray

JK but like i feel like growing up he did not have time to care about that type of stuff so he would just smell like whatever deodorant was the cheapest. and then once he got adopted by bruce, he was too busy juggling school and being robin

i personally subscribe to the hc that all of his senses were heightened by the lazarus pit. i also know that in the comics as well as canon there have been discussions about things that might trigger his panic attacks (or if they’re not canonically panic attacks, as someone who has them they certainly feel very panic attack coded) and i think one of those triggers might be certain smells for him

jason todd whose throat closes up when he smells smoke or burning wood. who can’t stomach the metallic tang of blood on iron so he wears the helmet to limit his sense of smell

anyways! so yeah i think like dick he doesn’t want a reminder of his patrols but for a different reason

some sources also recommend focusing on 5 things that you can sense around you to help ground yourself so i could see him seeking comfort in a familiar scent

sad stuff aside THIS LIT NERD WOULD LOVE IMAGINARY AUTHORS

for the uninitiated, they’re a niche fragrance house that specifically has a story around each perfume

so like the notes are meant to evoke aspects of the story

in their “about us” they literally say that they view each fragrance as a book. each bottle’s side is literally designed to look like the spine of a book. jason would eat that shit up and you can’t convince me otherwise

i think o, unknown! would be a really good fit for that situation

notes of black tea, musk, and sandalwood that is both sweet and soothing

i think it would remind him of his days spent at the manor, having afternoon tea with alfred

tea time on a train, the powder room at a lavish gala, something so familiar yet you can’t quite put your finger on it. this is the story of a man grappling with the meaning of life as he grasps at life’s last vestiges

i think the cobra and the canary would really suit him as well

for more day to day stuff

likeeeeeee he just screams woody spicy to me

in theory it has lemon (according to the creators) but it’s definitely more leather and hay funnily enough than anything else

very biker core are we surprised

leather, lemon, asphalt, hot summer road trips, visions of your dad back when he was cool, crossing state lines with your sidekick, slicking your hair back and getting in a metaphorical knife fight with your old self

each stop finds the friends inventing new pseudonyms and personas for themselves, their innocent game hurtling them into the throes of decadence and desolation

not to show my obvious bias by making jason’s section way longer than everybody else’s butttttt i also quite like aesop for him

i feel like they are a bit strong so i don’t know if he would like that part (even for somebody who does not have the most sensitive sense of smell i can say they get a bit overwhelming)

but if you can tone them down i think they’re quite nice, technically unisex but a lot of them lean more masculine since they’re more earthy and musky

most of them have vetiver which just seems very jason coded to me

i think hwyl especially just seems like it would fit him

also process of elimination, he would probably go for woody, which is basically every single aesop perfume. citrus and floral notes don't really fit him that well (ik i mentioned cobra and the canary but it's not as citrus forward as the aesop citrus perfumes), and nothing opulent or too musky either

but honestly a lot of aesop perfumes are fairly similar but will just react to your skin's chemistry differently, so who knows

an intriguing fragrance with a hint of eccentricity. reminiscent of a Hinoki forest, smoky notes descend into subtle spice and dark green, earthy accords

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 19: wrapped in your regret

"I'll live now 'cause the bad die last. Dodging bullets with your broken past, wrapped in your regret. What a waste of blood and sweat." -Could Have Been Me by The Struts

Regent Masterlist Part 18 Mundane Macabre AO3

In exchange for not beating the ecto out of him (he does need it Ellie) Jason convinced the youngest halfa to join him for a night of “troll the bats”. If Jazz was a lesser woman, she might’ve been frightened by how many teeth Ellie’s grin displayed as she agreed. Jason didn’t seem all that worried though as he kissed her goodbye and left with both her siblings in tow, the menace she called Danny having invited himself to join the chaos.  

Though she was relieved that they seemed to find common ground, Jazz knew she was in for a nightly patrol by her lonesome as both her siblings (and her soulmate) rushed out as their alter egos to cause chaos for the rest of the batclan. Should she have been more concerned about the consequences? Probably. Relief won out. 

(That didn’t stop the Regent from hitting just a little harder on patrol.)  (Her worries were thankfully unfounded.) 

(If the pictures of a tireless Batmobile and a tire-throned Ellie were anything to go by.) 

While Jason was incredibly fond of Danny, the genius halfa one of the few people he knew he could trust to have his back and not stab him in it, Ellie was the mischievous little sister he never wanted (but would burn down Gotham for). Supposedly,  the fifteen year old was the clone of Danny- 

(If Jason had a nickel for every time he’d met a clone created to kill and replace their original, he’d have two nickels.) (Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird its happened twice.)

-though it took a few extra seconds for Jason to find the similarities between the two. It was easier to play ‘spot the difference’ between template and clone. Where Danny’s hair was raven’s wing black, Ellie had bathroom bleached hers to a shade off platinum blonde. If Danny’s aesthetic was tired nasa nerd with goth best friend then Ellie’s was punk rock death jokes meets cut-a-bitch feminist. Danny favored his red sneakers and denim jacket. 

Ellie’s leather jacket had clearly seen some shit. 

Despite the differences, the older halfa clearly loved his clone with the way he doted on her, had her back but still let her handle her own shit. Ellie was powerful but still young, still had time to grow up, to mature into adulthood and all that awaited her. 

Was that how siblings were supposed to act? 

Jason had witnessed how Jazz cared for Danny, in a semi-maternal fashion that proved just how skewed their relationship was. Hell, she’d been able to claim regency because the bond between them was more like mother and son rather than siblings. 

Dickwing was often like that with Damian, now that Jason examined their relationship with new lenses. Bruce had been lost in the time stream when Damian needed a strong guiding hand, but like always the Bastard Bat wasn’t there when he was needed the most. 

(Like a warehouse in Ethopia.) (Like when the bomb went off and he died) 

(where were you dad?)

It took a few moments for Jason to shake off the tension building in chest, the onset of a panic attack he now could recognize without the green tint off the Pit clouding his waking world. The shitty Gotham air helped ground him too, better than if he’d been in the Batcave or the Manor and he’s able to refocus his attention back on Jazz’s siblings. The two hadn’t seemed to notice his dissociation moment, attentively keeping an eye on the crowd below on street level. 

They’d been out for hours now, already having pranked Robin and Spoiler separately, but the two Halfas had been drawn to this crowd for some reason. 

The crowd was mostly made up of freaks and the stragglers of Joker’s Royal Flush, both gangs barely clinging to existence with the clown’s demise and the effectiveness of the Ridge vigilantes breaking the Freaks’ will to live. 

(Truly, the Bats should take notes.) 

Jason hadn’t really given much thought to the Royal Flush gang, not even before Joker’s head was claimed and mounted like a deranged trophy. They weren’t many in number, less than the twenty one the clown had capped out on, but they were dangerous as a group. Nothing for a bat to hesitate at, but still meant to be cautious about. 

It made sense for the Freaks and the Flush to join forces, strengthen in numbers, but the crowd had decided to test their luck by lingering far too close to the Ridge. 

Ellie liked Jason, sure, but she wasn’t quite sure what to make of his whole… thing.

She wasn’t exactly a fan of Red Hood, not like her Template was. There was appreciation that he cared for her elder sister and big brother so much, but she couldn’t help but be wary of how shadowy he was. 

The liminal had a shadow proto-core, newly healed, but the shadows that danced through the Spectral mist were creeping Ellie out. 

Too many for her to feel comfortable with him at her back. Force of habit thanks to her nomadic ways- never let the shadows escape your eyes, as she’s learned. 

Ever since she crossed paths with that witch-doctor over in Barcelona, the younger halfa’s core-ability had been out of whack. Stronger, weirder, and harder to ignore. 

Then again, she did possess the rarest shadow core variant, a mixture of light and dark Frostbite had called ‘dawn struck’. 

Danny called her Twilight Princess with zero hesitation. 

(So uncool for her emo punk image to be called a my little pony character.) 

(Even though she was, in fact, a Princess.) 

The ‘spectral mist’ was what Ellie had taken to calling the secondary plane she could peer into, the plane of existence that mediums and spiritualists could conjure glimpses of Ellie had full view access. 

It was creepy. 

The halfa had spent years traveling to haunted places, doing a medium’s job of communicating with the dead that haunt the living, trying to help where she could. 

(If anyone could understand being trapped, it’s Ellie.) 

Officially, Ellie had a good reputation among the paranormal community. She was well liked and well respected once people got past her age, known for her incredible third-eye and compassion for both the living and dead. She was regularly contacted for help, others wanting advice about what a spirit said or how to handle a particularly picky poltergeist. 

Unofficially? Ellie was serving her people, as their Wandering Princess should. That she helped the living was just a bonus, honestly. 

(Lie.)

(Ellie was the clone of a powerful protector spirit.)

(And a fledgling protector in her own right.)

(She would always feel compelled to help others.) 

Ellie had been aware of Jazz’s boyfriend thanks to Danny, her template eager to divulge the gossip about the once-revenant sharing their sister’s bed and proto-core warmth, but she hadn’t expected the revelation of soulmates being an actual thing- much less for the Red Hood to be Jazz’s other half. 

His shadows, the literal haunting of his regrets, almost blinded Ellie when she first laid eyes on the man. His victims, whether they were by his hand or not, shrouded his aura in inky midnight. 

“Hey Hood, isn’t that the Batmobile?” Her template, in his Phantom form, questioned and promptly drew Hood to confirm what he had spotted. The older vigilante leaned over the rooftop edge, his spectral mist unfurling in the barely perceptible breeze like a cloak draped behind his massive frame. 

(Like a bigger bat’s cape.) 

A shiver ran down her spine as Ellie made eye contact with the faint visage of a woman with pale grey-blue eyes and blonde hair. 

Yes, Jason had many regrets. 

He was perhaps the worst sort to be fate-matched with Jazz. 

But as he led her and her template down towards the infamous Batmobile, Ellie could understand how the two complimented each other. Jazz was protective and self-sacrificing to a fault, but had a heart for the hopeless and the damned. Jason, with his work as Red Hood, had decided to dedicate his life to making Crime Alley a haven instead of the desiccated remains of whatever hope it once held, willing to take the lives of those whose crimes had no chance for redemption. Both death-claimed liminals with so much regret on their hearts. 

(Was it sad that Jazz’s haunting regrets were few but so strong?) 

Jason Todd, the Red Hood, Avenger of the Forsaken. Jasmine Nightingale, The Regent, Protector of the Once and Future Star King. 

Protection and blind justice. 

(Not quite a hero, not yet a martyr.) 

Huh. 

By the end of what would've been Phantom's Witching Hours patrol, the Royal Flush/Freaks were beaten and potentially missing a few bones, the Batmobile had its four tires stolen and Ellie was glad she didn’t have to use her shovel on her future brother-in-law.

[cypressvs]

STAR CROSSED LOVERS

pairing: dan heng/gn!reader, gepard landau/gn!reader, jing yuan/gn!reader (separate)

cw: spoilers about character lores

wc: 0.8k | join the taglist

DAN HENG stares blankly at the console in front of him. Protected by the four walls of the train's archives, he allows himself the luxury of pressing his lips into a torn frown. Seconds pass by with each tick and yet he remains unmoving, as still as the illusions of the past that he can never seem to outrun. The faint scent of roses—foreign in his room and tearing apart the more rustic aesthetic crafted by towering bookshelves and asymmetrical ceilings—remove him from his trance. Tenderly, with all the care he could muster in his war-stained hands, he brushed his thumb over a petal. For a moment, he imagines that the red on his skin was not from grotesque memories but from the love-worn warmth of the roses and its sender's rouge print on its accompanying letter. He breathes and the scent fills his lungs. You fill his lungs and his heart quenches with a thirst that can never be quelled. Finally, he moves away from the screen, treading towards the faux sky on the other end of his room. He spies a lone star and similarly alone in his space, he whispers forlornly with a vulnerability he can only afford to show now.

"I'm going to have to leave you eventually." Lashes fan against pale cheeks before settling into a mournful close. "For your sake, I pray that you don't get too attached to me."

GEPARD’s armor clicks and clangs with each step he took forward. He smiles at familiar faces, nods at other patrol guards’ salutes, and stops to help grandmothers cross the rail tracks. He shakes his head at their words of thanks, saying that it was his duty as the Captain of the Silvermane Guards. At that, he receives an adoring shake of heads before they all eventually part ways. Courageous, he might be, but he’s stubbornly self-sacrificial to the point of no return. The tram’s ringing bells snap him out of his thoughts and he moves to resume his patrol. However, before he can take another step forward, he sees a once-friendly shadow. One he’d meet with an adoring smile, one he’d come home to with a needy hug, one he’d loved in his youth’s years and continue to love now in his matured present—a suffering reserved to an unwavering affection that perseveres throughout the years. His sudden pause catches your attention and you flash him a reserved smile; the kind you’d offer awkwardly to a figment of a past you wish you could run away from. Suddenly, he’s thrown back to that fateful night three years ago. The salty streak that plagues his tongue, the gloved hand clenching his chest, the guilt that flushed his cheeks as memory of missed anniversaries and birthdays resurface once more. He remembers your pleading sob—the desperation that made your hands claw desperately into his arms.

"I love you.” He mumbles, nearly unheard among the hiccups and gasps shared by the two of you. “I love you,” he repeats, “but you deserve so much more than I could ever offer you."

JING YUAN likes to think that years of experience has made him capable of rendering all adversaries that may come his way into a fond memory to look back on hundreds of years later down the line of his abnormal lifespan. However, some days, the taste of the tea he drinks leaves him sentimental, memories of tears and glee alike filling his mind with a bittersweet respite from its business. Nostalgia is a double-edged sword, he thinks to himself as he sips on his porcelain cup. The familiar teahouse morphs into an empty field. The wooden sword on his hand is lighter than the one he wields now and the expression on his face is one more similar to that of a naive child trying to rush into adulthood. If only he could tell himself to take it easy, to let the years work him gently, then perhaps his misery would at least be halved. His master nods to acknowledge his efforts but the sceneries change once more and his weapon is now of metal and there is nothing but undying death in his master’s visage. Lightning strikes and blood is spilled and he is once more back to his reality, relishing in the gentle sounds of the wind chimes and the peace that washes over him as he hears you laugh behind the counter. Feeling a gaze on your back, you turn around only to see no one. Just an empty cup and an indescribable weight on your heart. 

“How strange…” He hums as he walks back to the Seat of Divine Foresight with his arms resting on his lower back. “To think that I would find myself eager to sacrifice something of my own happiness in order to make sure you're safe…”

© 2023 CYPRESSVS. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms.

[daydream-cement]

hihi, is it possible for me to ask for gwens characters with a curvy/chubby s/o ?

Thank you x

Gwen’s Characters with a Plus-Sized SO

Authors Note: As a plus size gal, YOU BET YOUR BOOTS I WILL WRITE THIS!!! Phasma and Brienne are written by @bri-sonat!!

Larissa Weems

This woman loves herself a plus-sized woman.

She profoundly appreciates a little extra to love and squeeze. 

After a long day at work, Larissa loves laying between their legs with her head on their tummy. 

She will ALWAYS have a hand on her SO’s thigh in the car.

She can’t cook for shit but she always has sweets that she will offer with the brightest smile.

Larissa becomes deeply invested in plus size fashion and finding them the best clothes to match her partner’s aesthetic.

She loves their hugs too as they always feel so warm and comforting. 

In self-conscious moments for her partner, Larissa is always ready to lend a listening ear. This is always followed up by her partner being smothered in love for Rissa to share how much she loves every inch of her partner.

Miranda Hilmarson

She LOVES having her plus-size SO lying on top of her as they watch a movie. 

Expect absentminded booty rubs as she watches the movie too.

Miranda and her SO always have the best snacks at all times

Days on the beach where she and her partner lay under an umbrella with Miranda’s head resting on their thigh

They can always expect Mir to nip and bite at their thighs when she has the opportunity 

Miranda is a physical touch girlie so just expect wandering (and squeezing) hands at all times

Miranda is The Obsessive Loving Girlfriend™️ so her partner can expect her to be bragging about how beautiful they are all the time (no matter how often Robin tells her she knows already because “you have already told me a million times, Hilmarson”)

Brienne of Tarth

Are you kidding me? This woman loves thighs and boobs. She adores laying down next to her significant other after a long day and just keeping one of her hands on their thigh.

Considering she herself has been judged and ridiculed because of her appearance and body, she is quick to defend her partner against insults and comments.

Because of the previous - she also understands what it is like to not fit into society’s norms and what it is like to be stared at so she is incredibly empathetic on the rougher days.

During the colder nights after she has returned from patrol or her duties, she loves laying down next to her partner and feeling them snuggle up next to her, one arm and one leg draped over her.

The thick thighs also serve as a very comfortable pillow after intimate times… or during. Either way, Brienne loves feeling them next to her head as she services her partner.

When her partner is feeling insecure - she is quick to lend an ear and is more happy to do so. After a heartfelt talk, she kisses the back of their hand and then presses a kiss to their lips before offering to take them for a small walk. On that walk, she gifts her significant other picked wildflowers with a comment on how the flowers are equally as pretty and breathtaking as her partner.

Captain Phasma

Phasma does not care what the person’s body looks like. She may be an asshole, but she’s not fatphobic.

A big butt means more surface to slap and make red and she likes that very much. 

Her significant other can expect Phasma’s hand on their ass during all their alone time because she will have her hand glued to it. Squeezing, caressing, slapping.

During intimate times she is also known to bite and kiss it.

The woman loves ass.

People are too scared to make comments on her partner’s body considering they’d face her wrath if they did.

She is also known to knead her partner’s breasts whenever they change or whenever they sit in front of her. 

If her significant other is changing, she will walk up to her partner and grab both the boobs in her hands and squeeze them once or twice before planting a kiss on each of them. 

If her partner is sitting in front of her, she is known to scooch closer and wrap her hands around her significant other’s waist and slide her hands inside their shirt and up to grab a handful of boobs. She loves it.

She also loves thighs. She loves sucking and biting them. She loves slapping them. She just loves thighs and the more thigh, the merrier. Same with ass and tits.

Lucifer Morningstar

This being’s mantra is ‘All Bodies Are Beautiful Bodies’

Don’t ask them to pick a favorite body part because they won’t be able to

They call their SO their ‘sweet cherub’ and they say it with the SOFTEST expression.

Will always pull their partner into their lap as they sit on their throne to coo and fawn over them

Luci always has a way of making their SO feel small and delicate 

Death to those who refuse to appreciate their partner’s beauty 

They have a very intentional and serious way of admiring their partner’s body

They have been accustomed to the harsh roughness of Hell so the sweet softness of their partner’s body is something they are quite infatuated with

Jane Murdstone

As being plus size isn’t necessarily accepted in her time, Jane is quick to shut down any gossip surrounding her partner’s size

She frequently writes poetry about the luscious beauty of her partner’s body

Jane appreciates thick thighs when giving head (we all know giving head is Jane’s #1 hobby).

Jane is the definition of a soft, obsessive sapphic poet so she will need to worship her partner’s body at LEAST twice a week.

She is delighted by her partner’s soft warm body during those chilly winter nights

She is always quick to compare her plus size SO after her favorite fruits: ‘soft peach’ or ‘little plum’.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 21: Psychology in the Field of Aesthetics

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Leo saunters into Mikey's traincar sometime in the afternoon. Mikey slept half the day away, missing breakfast and is just about to miss out on lunch. Raph and Casey made some beef ramen with eggs, and Leo has prepared a tray for Mikey in case he was willing to eat, along with some grilled cheese and juice. Mikey will like that...

The lair is kind of quiet today. It reminds Leo of the week when Mikey was gone... it was too quiet. No one wanted to say anything, and everyone was hiding out in their own spaces doing their own thing to try and find a way to help bring him home somehow. Donnie locked himself away in his labs. Raph was training away his anger and fear. Casey, April, and Cass fought over patrol every single night. And Leo... Leo was going out of his mind.

Some nights Leo just went to the buildings across from the TCRI and watched the building. Just... watched it. Like maybe if he stared at it long enough, it would spit out Mikey. He'd perch there for hours until the sun came up, and then he'd hurry home before the others caught him. He knew that they knew, but none of them ever spoke about it. Donnie knew because of the trackers. Raph knew because there was no hiding anything from the oldest sibling. But they were kind enough to not say anything... or maybe, they were too busy stressing and trying to cope in their own ways.

But it was just too quiet in the lair, no matter what they did to cope.

Mikey was always the loudest of the bunch -- very talkative and outgoing, doing his best to brighten the mood whenever someone was feeling down. But when Mikey went missing... so did the sunshine.

Leo knew that there would be a period where Mikey would be quiet when he got home. It was the same for him after the invasion. Leo had only been in the Prison Dimension for a few minutes, but that was enough to keep him silent for days before he finally started talking about menial things. What food he wanted for dinner. Cracking a joke. Laughing at a Jupiter Jim scene. Whether or not his cast itched. It took even longer for him to talk about what he'd been through. And he knew that Mikey would act fine about it all, he'd clam up about what had happened but be some version of himself, until he finally felt comfortable sharing what he'd been through.

But that had been back when he assumed that Mikey would come home in the same state he'd left.

Not mutated and mangled...

And it's still quiet in the lair.

Day by day, Mikey has been getting better and filling the home with his light and laughter. But it's... strained. Stifled. Something is lingering under the surface, something is bothering Mikey. And he won't, or can't explain what it is.

Leo rolls his shoulders as he walks down the hall. They still ache from yesterday. Mikey didn't break the skin, but there are huge bruises and marks from where he had his death-grip on him. Leo chose to wear his hoodie to hide them, which helped. No one's asked about it, so it must be working.

Leo slides the door to Mikey's room open, poking his head inside as he knocks on the doorframe.

"Miguel? You awake?"

He hears Mikey shuffle under the blankets. A head pokes out, and in the darkness Leo sees sleepy eyes open with a startling glow.

"Mhm..." Mikey mumbles.

"Cool. You want some lunch? It's soup and sandwiches," Leo offers.

"Okay..." he yawns, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Gonna... get down from th'hammock..."

"Good idea. And hey, your vocab is sounding better!" Leo congratulates, as Mikey climbs down and settles on one of the beanbags.

Mikey yawns once more before getting situated, dragging the blanket he had with him off the hammock and wrapping it over his shoulders.

Leo walks over to him, his feet crinkle some paper left on the floor. Uh oh, did he ruin a Mikey original? He'll have to check... In the meantime, he places the tray down on Mikey's lap. Mikey sniffs the bowl and smiles.

"Smells good," he says.

"Raph and Casey did a sweet job, huh?"

"Mhm," Mikey mumbles as he starts to slurp up the noodles and broth.

"Mind if I turn on a light?" Leo asks, walking to the lightswitch.

Mikey nods with a mumble, continuing to much on the eggs.

Leo flicks the lights on. Mikey flinches. Same old, same old.

On the floor is a roll of paper, figures scribbled across it with finger paint and acrylics. Leo kneels down besides the paper and stares at it.

"Mikey," he whispers, "when did you make this?"

Mikey looks up, noodles hanging from his lip and nose. He shrugs before dipping his face back into the bowl.

"Yesterday. Sick. I forgot about that."

Leo traces his finger over the green and yellow doodle of Mikey... he isn't as skilled as he used to be, but the emotion is still conveyed.

There's a drawing of Mikey in a cage, a person in a white coat is kicking the bars and making him cry. Mikey drew anger emanating off of the man, exclamation points and storm clouds showing his fury and how loud the man must've been.

Another sketch shows Mikey being poked with needles, each one filled with random colours -- neon green, blood red, and hot pink with yellow eyes drawn within them.

One drawing shows Mikey turning blue as frost engulfs him from a weird hair-dryer or something.

Leo looks back up at Mikey. He knew there was something lingering under the surface...

"Hey, Mike?"

Mikey looks up at him, holding the bowl up as he downs the broth in large gulps.

"Do you think... we could do some more art like this?" he asks, holding up the paper.

Mikey stares at the drawings. He swallows hard. He slowly lowers the now-empty bowl onto the tray. His tail taps nervously against the floor. His toes curl with growing anxiety.

"Um... m-m-maybe. Mmmmiiiikey... doesn't really like those drawings. I-I... I don't like them. They, uh.... what's word... bring back scared feelings."

Leo nods.

"I understand. But... I think this is important, Mikey. It would help us understand better about how to take care of you. And maybe it'll help you feel better?"

Mikey fidgets, poking the sandwich.

"But I totally get it if you don't think you're ready!" Leo adds. "After the invasion and everything, I didn't want to talk to anyone. Nobody. I wanted to keep it bottled up inside, because I was scared of getting hurt again, or maybe hurting you guys by telling you what I'd been dealing with... because... it was a lot."

Mikey looks up slowly. Leo is still staring down at the drawings, he doesn't see the concern and confusion on Mikey's face. What is Leo talking about? What invasion?

"...But you were the one to help me get it off my chest. Dr. Feelings really knocked some sense into me. And... it did kind of hurt, it was scary, but everyone was there to help me get through it, and we talked it all out -- Donnie's integrating with the ship, Raph's krangification, you with the portal, and me with the Prison Dimension and all the stuff that I was dealing with."

Leo finally looks up at his baby brother.

"So, I just wanna do that for you. I want to be your Dr. Feelings. Do you think... we could do that?"

Mikey shifts his weight as he considers it.

"...Does Mikey -- Do I have to talk about it?"

"I guess not... You can just draw whatever comes to mind. Is that okay?"

Mikey swallows nervously.

"Make Leo happy?"

"This is about making YOU happy," Leo responds. "I just want to help you heal. Maybe... this could be like 'art therapy', if that exists... that exists, right?"

Mikey chuckles. It probably exists now...

"Okay. We can do art therapy."

Leo's eyes brighten.

"Really? You're okay for this?"

"Just let me finish my food," Mikey mumbles, taking the sandwich and biting into it.

"No problemo, my guy," Leo says, pointing finger guns at him. "I'll go see if the guys wanna join in."

Leo runs out of the room, taking Mikey's empty bowl with him.

He doesn't see the nervous expression Mikey makes...

This... this will be good, right? Mikey do good?

.

.

.

Leo has gathered Raph and Casey into the bedroom with him. Donnie declined to participate, saying he had a lot of work to catch up on. He had that 'don't speak to me or I will commit murder' look on his face, so Leo left him be.

Mikey is sitting in the center of the room, Raph on his right side and Casey to his left. Leo cops a squat across from him, dumping a series of crayons and coloured pencils out for them all to use.

"Okay, so here's what's up -- we're all gonna draw along with Mikey to help the creative juices flow. He's gonna try and draw some moments from the past week for us."

Casey nods as he grabs a pencil and starts to scribble. Raph's brow furrows a bit.

"Leo... are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Mikey and I talked it over, and so long as he doesn’t actually have to talk about it yet, he's okay with it," Leo explains, already started on a drawing of his own. "Right, Miguel?"

Mikey nods silently as he dips his tail in a bottle of green paint and starts to draw himself.

Raph sighs and grabs a pen.

"Fine... Mikey does love to draw. But if at any point this becomes too much for him, we stop pushin' him. Got it?"

"Absolutely," Leo agrees. "He can just draw whatever he wants to instead."

Mikey studies the paper with intensity. He doesn't know what to draw. What do they want? What does Leo want? Mikey doesn't like how messy his art is right now, it discourages him. He feels like he should be doing better at this... but his hands shake whenever he picks up a pencil or paintbrush. His tail is the only thing that doesn't sway when he draws, but the end is so big the brushstrokes tend to be huge and fat and sloppy.

Mikey doesn't like his art right now. It makes him upset.

Use that, Instinct whispers. Use it for fuel.

Fuel for what?

Art. They want pain. Give it to them.

Pain... Leo mentioned something about that earlier. He said this would help him hurt less, by sharing his pain.

Well... Mikey trusts Leo.

If he wants pain, Mikey can provide!

Mikey starts drawing with purpose now, concentrating on the posing, finding colours that pop to show terror or the ones that are grey and dull to show despair. The human stick figures are made to be scary, the limbs distorted and disproportionate, their faces empty. They look like monsters.

Mikey draws his shell shattering into pieces like broken glass.

He clenches his jaw.

He draws robots with glowing eyes attacking him.

His shoulders tense up and tighten.

He draws animals strewn apart and ripped to shreds.

He breath fastens, he growls.

He draws his claws red and bloody.

His hands curl into fists.

He draws himself strapped down to a table with knives and electric things coming to change him.

Mikey's eyes blur over with stinging salty tears.

He draws a scary man with a large machine over his head --

"Mikey!"

He stops and looks up in shock.

Leo, Casey, and Raph are staring at him, wide-eyed and terrified.

"...Mikey... you good?"

Mikey nods, confused why they're so concerned until he looks down at his tail.

The spikes are all raised. The quills on his shoulders, too. His shell scutes are in offense mode. He suddenly realizes he's been growling under his breath this whole time. He pauses and takes a look at the paper he's been drawing on. He's been crumpling it up under his fists.

"...o-ohh... um. Oops."

He doesn’t know what else to say. He did what they wanted; he did what Leo wanted, right?

Mikey do good?

Raph reaches over and takes Mikey's artwork.

"Okay, I think that's enough for now. No more art therapy--"

"No!" Mikey yells, reaching back for the papers.

Raph freezes at Mikey's volume.

"I-I --" he stutters, trying to calm himself down.

The ridges on his shell flatten, and his tail smoothes out as he takes a breath and sits in shame for his outburst.

"I wanna draw..." he pouts. "M-maybe not... that stuff anymore, but... I wanna draw..."

He looks up at Raph.

"Don't take away the drawing stuff from me, please?"

Raph's heart breaks, though he maintains a pretty good poker face. How could he say no to him? Especially after everything.

Plus, the way he phrased it makes Raph think that there were things taken from Mikey by the EPF.

"Alrighty then," he replies, setting the art supplies back down. "We can keep drawin'. Art therapy can continue. But now, we're just gonna draw what makes us happy, okay?"

Mikey nods with excitement, dipping his tail in the paint as he tries to draw something new. Pain didn't make them happy, it made them scared of Mikey. Again. So what can he draw now? Happy things, Raph said. Draw things that are happy... that make Mikey happy.

He draws his brothers. He draws Splinter. He draws Casey and April and the human girl that smells like Casey. Mostly he draws foods. Different types of food. Burgers, steaks, BLTs, fried chicken, grilled fish, hot dogs, meats and cold cuts and proteins. Pizzas upon pizzas upon pizzas.

Casey starts taking notes of all the foods he draws so that he can try to make them for him later...

Mikey smiles as he draws.

Leo is drawing himself doing all kinds of cool poses. He isn't very skilled, but he's having fun.

Raph is drawing cute animals and teddy bears and some princess in pink with the word "Peach" scribbled over her.

Casey draws what looks like Leo, but the arm is wrong... it looks like Raph's arm. Casey draws what looks like Donnie, but taller and more buff and almost kinda scary with how serious he is. He draws a third turtle, one that is smaller and wears an orange cape and has hair? Huh. Mikey wonders who that last turtle is.

But they all seem smiley, cheery, happy.

Mikey likes art therapy.

.

.

.

Raph rubs the 'memory sauce' on Mikey's head as he snuggles into bed for the night.

"You all good? All bundled up nice and cozy?"

Mikey purrs.

"All goooooood... thank you for rubs..."

"Hey, that's what Raph is here for," he chuckles.

Mikey exhales with comfort as Raph's hands delicately massage the glowing purple-ish slime into his skin. Despite the size of his hands and the many rough calluses he has, Raph takes care to stay gentle and soothing with his rubbing. Mikey's eyes move under his eyelids as Raph administers the salve, as if he's watching a movie in his brain. Raph wonders what memory he's seeing...

Mikey yawns, his tongue curling and flicking from his mouth as he exhales.

"Nighty-night, Raphie... love you..."

Raph smiles and kisses the one exposed part of his forehead.

"Love you too, big man."

He smiles as Mikey seems to fall asleep. He reaches down to where they've been drawing for most of the day and takes Mikey's therapy drawings.

Leo?

Radio silence.

Leo!

I'm awake! a voice from his head shouts, followed by an Oof! Ow.

Raph tries not to snicker.

Did I wake you?

No, no, I was just lying down on my bed hoping someone would shout with the mind meld and disturb the oh-so-cumbersome peaceful quiet, Leo grumbles back. Why, what's up?

I figured we could look over Mikey's therapy art.

Oh. Right, that. I'll be there in a minute.

True to his word, Leo comes in a second later wearing his hoodie and some unicorn slippers.

"You ready?"

Raph nods and leaves Mikey to his rest. The two boys go to Raph's room. It's further away from Mikey's car than Leo's, so they can have privacy without fear of waking him.

The two boys spread out the crumpled sheets, looking in numb devastation at the depicted scenes.

"So... what now?" Leo asks.

"Whaddya mean, 'what now'? The art therapy was your idea, Leo!"

"Yeah, but... I mean, what comes next? We just look at it?" he asks. "I figured we could have... I dunno, had Mikey here or something. I didn't actually think we'd get this far without him. I mean, what is most of this? I wish he'd labeled a few of these..."

"Well, it's a little tough to decipher exactly what happened to him, but..." Raph peers down at a specific drawing of a needle filled with pink sludge. "I can guess what this is."

Leo looks down at the drawing. He swallows when he sees the familiar shade of sickening pink.

"So, Mikey knows he's mutated with krang?"

"Looks that way."

"Then... why hasn't he said anything? Or acted out about it? If I found out that I had that in my genes, you can bet I'd be hysterical 24/7 over it."

"I would too..." Raph nods weakly.

"So why isn't he?" Leo asks, taking a closer look. "Why is he so... nonchalant about it?"

"After everything we've been through... you think he didn't want us to know?" Raph wonders aloud.

"If he didn't, then he wouldn't have drawn it so plainly," Leo shoots down. "But... maybe he doesn't realize what it is..."

"Huh?" Raph looks up from the drawing to his brother. "What, like, he didn't know it was krang, just knew it was bad?"

"Maybe not even that. He has memory damage, and he didn't even react when he saw the krangified horde... maybe... he doesn't remember what the krang are...?"

"...On the one hand, that's twisted and horrible," Raph mutters, his face pale. "On the other... what I wouldn't give to forget them like he did."

"Ditto," Leo sighs heavily as he moves on to another art piece.

His eyes fall on one where Mikey drew a very gruesome depiction of an animal.

"Euuugh boy," he groans, taking the paper away before Raph can spot it. "Don't look at this one."

"Why?" he asks.

"It would trigger you," Leo sighs. "Let's just say... Mikey won't be getting a pet anytime soon."

Raph's head tilts.

"I don't get it."

"Good. Here's hoping you don't," Leo says as he turns the page upside down. "But Mikey... Mikey did some stuff in that lab, I'm realizing."

"What kind of 'stuff'?" Raph asks nervously.

"I... dunno. But he had to hurt things, I think. Survival of the fittest type of junk, maybe..."

Raph swallows.

"Leo... I dunno if we should be doing this without him..."

"You saw how he was reacting to just drawings of the memories," Leo retorts, grabbing a new sheet. "He's not ready for that... I thought he might be, but he isn't yet. And that's okay, we'll wait till he's ready to talk."

"That's what I mean," Raph says, pulling the sheet away from Leo. "This feels like an invasion of privacy. Mikey should be here to talk us through these, he should be the one explaining what's up rather than us just rifling through his innermost fears and traumas like some --"

Raph pauses when he sees the drawing he stole from Leo.

"...What? Like some what?" Leo asks, waiting for his brother to finish his thought.

He doesn't. Instead he stares at the drawing in his hands.

Leo bunny-hops over the pile of paper and peeks at the artwork...

"...Dude..." Leo whispers, turning to look at Raphael. "...what the heck is that."

"...I don't know," Raph whispers back. "...Do you think... it's... Mikey?"

Prev || Next