#Richard L Bare

[nerds-yearbook]

In 1945, in the Philippines campaign during World War II, Lt Fitzgerald was greatly troubled to learn that he had suddenly developed the ability to know who was about to die. ("The Purple Testament", Twilight Zone, TV)

[hotelelectrico]

Sometimes at the end of a year, I'll post stills from ten of my favorite movies that I saw for the first time that year. This year, those movies have something else in common: none of them are currently available to stream or rent online in the US. I rented almost all of these on disc from Scarecrow Video, the world's largest publicly-available video archive. They're in the midst of an important fundraising campaign - please consider renting from them, becoming a member, or donating what you can!

The Heiress (1949, USA, director William Wyler): A suitor (Montgomery Clift!) encourages a rich young woman (Olivia de Havilland!) to assert her independence from her father, but can she trust his motives? Classical Hollywood rarely got more psychologically insightful than in this tense but gorgeous melodrama. On Blu-ray from Criterion.

Wait Till the Sun Shines, Nellie (1952, USA, dir. Henry King): A young husband is happy to put down small-town roots while his wife dreams of the city. David Lynch says that this was the first movie he ever saw, and you can feel its influence on his work. Wholesome Americana as a force of perpetual destruction to those who dream of anything else. On DVD-R from Fox Archive.

They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969, USA, dir. Sydney Pollack): Hm, I'm realizing there may be some recurring themes in these, maybe a little bit of cynicism about "capitalism" and "America" and so on. Desperate Depression-era contestants join a nightmarish dance contest for the prospect of guaranteed meals and a cash prize. One of the key films of the New Hollywood movement and a highlight of Jane Fonda's career! On Blu-ray from Kino Lorber.

Wicked, Wicked (1973, USA, dir. Richard L. Bare): Okay time for something fun! A cheesy, gimmicky, thoroughly enjoyable psycho-horror shown almost entirely in split-screen "DuoVision". The film makes genuinely interesting and varied use of its core gimmick , but even without it the lurid twists would be a blast to watch. There's even an atrocious but catchy theme song! On DVD-R from Warner Archive.

Man of Marble (1977, Poland, dir. Andrzej Wajda): A driven young documentary filmmaker seeks out the true story of a bricklayer who had been lauded as a proletarian hero decades before. For another change of pace, we have some cynicism about communism instead of capitalism! Agnieszka the filmmaker is one of my favorite characters of the year, because she possesses every admirable trait: a rock-steady moral vision, a fearless investigatory instinct, and a world-class ability to lounge around and sit in odd positions. On DVD from Vanguard. (I saw this through my university library, but Scarecrow has it too!)

The Driver (1978, USA, dir. Walter Hill): A cool-guy-does-cool-car-crimes movie so stripped-down that none of the characters have names or even change outfits. Ryan O'Neal and Isabelle Adjani are as pretty and blank as you could possibly hope for. The car chases rock. It turns out you can strip this whole genre down to just the chassis and it's still immensely satisfying. On Blu-ray from Imprint.

Urgh! A Music War (1982, UK, dir. Derek Burbidge): Punk and new-wave concert footage from some of the greatest acts of the era! And plenty of other people too! Inherently inconsistent, starts and ends rough but there's a stretch in the middle that's nonstop fire. If you don't know and love Klaus Nomi, you need him in your life. If you haven't watched The Cramps' performance from this, you have no idea how low a pair of leather pants can ride or how salaciously a man can treat a microphone, and you need that in your life too. Plus Devo, XTC, OMD, The Go-Gos, Gary Numan (in an adorable little Star Wars car!) - all aces. On DVD-R from Warner Archive.

To Live and Die in LA (1985, USA, dir. William Friedkin): A vital companion piece to Friedkin's landmark The French Connection, with 80s LA sheen replacing 70s NY grit but the dark heart of copdom left completely unchanged. Willem Dafoe is unforgettable as the artist/counterfeiter antagonist. (Fun fact: the counterfeit money used in the film made its way into actual circulation, which earned Friedkin a visit from the Secret Service. He told them to come back with a warrant and they never did. And that's how the greats do it!) On Blu-ray from Kino Lorber, but 4K UHD is also available!

Twilight (1990, Hungary, dir. György Fehér): You know how people who don't watch a lot of international art films think they're all slow, grim, ambiguous black-and-white slogs through Eastern European despair? Well, that's what this is and it rules. It's shot like nothing I've seen before, full of subtle, misty grays, and the plot is about some detectives failing to catch a child murderer. You know if that sounds like your jam or not, and if it does, you're in for a great bad time. On Blu-ray from Arbelos.

I'm a Cyborg, but That's OK (2006, South Korea, dir. Park Chan-wook): "Taking mental illness seriously" doesn't have to mean being dour or even realist. Park Chan-wook is of course one of the best filmmakers in the world, but he's especially good at nailing tricky, ambiguous tones. I'm thinking of the triumphantly salacious end of The Handmaiden, the tragicomic ending of Thirst, the cathartic but sorrowful but etc etc climax of Lady Vengeance - anyway, this movie lives in that realm all the way through. On Blu-ray from Tartan (I think).

[gatutor]

Randolph Scott-Angie Dickinson "Shoot-out at Medicine Bend" 1957, de Richard L. Bare.

[sesiondemadrugada]

Wicked, Wicked (Richard L. Bare, 1973).

[ozu-teapot]

Wicked, Wicked | Richard L. Bare | 1973

[schlock-luster-video]

On October 28, 2014, Wicked, Wicked was released on Burn-On-Demand DVR through the Warner Archive.

[shangchiswife]

logan howlett- little black dress

summary: after seeing logan and jean together, you feel jealous and decide to get even.

logan x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cursing

word count: 2952

....

The annual gala at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was always an exciting night, with mutants and humans in their best outfits, enjoying themselves and having a blast.

Tonight, however, you had a little more on your mind than just a good time. 

You and Logan had been dating for a few months now, and while your relationship was strong, there was something about the way he and Jean spent so much time together recently that had sparked a pang of jealousy in you.

You had chosen a little black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve with its elegant design.

As you put on your earrings and took one last look in the mirror you felt a rush of confidence, a smirk forming on your lips. 

You were ready to drive him absolutely insane.

As you walked into the grand ballroom, the atmosphere was full of energy and excitement.

The soft glow of chandeliers highlighted the glittering attire of the guests, the air buzzing with the sound of clinking glasses and lively conversations.

Your entrance did not go unnoticed.

Heads turned, and conversations paused as you walked confidently through the crowd. You could even see students whispering and pointing at you. At one point one of them even wolf-whistled at you.

“Looking good, Miss L/N,” one of the students called out with a grin.

You shot him a playful look. “That’s a detention for you, Richard,” you said with a smirk, watching as his grin faltered.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Logan, deep in conversation with Jean which made your smile fade.

Game on, you thought as you scanned the room and spotted a handsome mutant dressed in a dark suit talking animatedly with Scott.

When Scott excused himself, you saw your opening.

With a purposeful stride, you approached the man, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His attention shifted to you as you neared, and you flashed him a warm smile.

The mutant’s eyes widened as he drank in your appearance.

“Good evening,” you purred, your voice laced with a hint of playful charm. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you for a moment.”

“Not at all,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’m Stan. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, offering a hand to him which he graciously took. 

“So, Stan,” you said, your eyes sparkling, “What brings you to this splendid event tonight? It’s not every day you meet someone with such an intriguing presence.”

Stan seemed to appreciate the attention, his smile widening as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.

“I was actually looking for a bit of excitement,” he said with a wink. “And it looks like I’ve found it.”

You laughed lightly, making sure to touch his arm casually as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad to be part of your exciting evening. It’s always nice to find someone who knows how to enjoy themselves.”

As the conversation continued, you noticed Logan watching from across the room. His gaze was intense, and you could see his frustration growing. He kept glancing over, unable to tear his eyes away from your interaction with Stan.

His gaze darkened, intense and almost feral, as he took in the sight of you. You saw the way his hand tightened around his drink, the barely restrained hunger in his eyes. 

It was exactly the reaction you had been hoping for.

Jean said something to him, but he didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you.

You smiled, just a hint of satisfaction curling your lips before you returned your attention to Stan.

 “You know,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’m really enjoying our conversation. How about we leave this party and continue it somewhere more private?”

Before you could respond, you saw Logan storming over, his face red with anger.

“Hey, Y/N,” Logan said, his voice clipped. “We need to talk,” 

Stan looked between you and Logan, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “Is everything alright?” he asked, clearly unsure of what to do.

“We’re fine,” Logan practically barked at him, his eyes not leaving yours for a second.

You glanced at Logan, your expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. 

“I think I’ll handle this,” you said to Stan, giving him a reassuring smile. “Thank you for the lovely conversation.”

“Of course,” Stan replied, stepping back. He cast one last, disappointed glance at you before exiting the ballroom.

Logan’s intense gaze remained fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of wetness pooling in your panties.

“What’s the deal with you and Stan?” he demanded, his voice low and edged with frustration. 

“You’re driving me insane, flaunting yourself in that hot little dress and flirting with him like that.”

“I didn’t realize I had such an effect on you,” you said, attempting to sound playful despite the blush creeping up your neck.

Logan took a step closer to you so that your chests were practically touching. The air between you crackled with tension.

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. “Watching you with someone else is pushing me to my limit.”

You felt a rush of exhilaration at his dominant demeanor.

“Maybe that was the point,” you said, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “To make you remember what you mean to me.”

Logan’s eyes darkened with desire, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm firmly. 

“You’re testing my patience,” he warned, his voice thick with barely restrained need. “And I’m done waiting.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and the assertive way he was holding you. You tilted your head slightly, your lips close to his ear. 

“Maybe it’s exactly what we both needed,” you murmured, your voice laced with suggestiveness. “To see where this tension leads us.”

Logan’s grip on your arm tightened just enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“We’re going somewhere more private,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Now.”

With that, he guided you firmly but gently through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. 

The vibrant energy of the ballroom faded as he led you swiftly and confidently towards a quieter, more secluded area.

Your heart hammered in your chest. This is what you were waiting for.

Logan’s hand stayed firmly on your back, leading you towards a quieter, more private corner.

When you reached a quiet corner, Logan wasted no time. 

He pushed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body pressing close to yours, his breath hot against your skin.

Logan’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes full of lust.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve been torturing me tonight?”  he growled, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

You could barely keep your composure as his words made you even wetter. 

“Maybe I wanted to see just how far I could push you,” you replied, your voice soft and teasing, “to remind you of what you mean to me.”

Logan’s lips curved into a predatory smile. 

“Well, you’ve definitely made your point,” he said, his voice dripping with authority. “Now, I’m going to make sure you feel exactly how much I’ve been waiting.”

Without another word, he cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips before he captured them in a deep, demanding kiss. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and hunger, his hands exploring the curves of your body in a possessive manner.

You responded eagerly, your hands sliding up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Butterflies formed in your stomach, yielding to his every move. 

When the kiss finally broke, you were both panting, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Logan’s eyes were dark with desire and dominance. 

“I’m not letting you go until you’ve made up for every second I’ve had to wait,” he said, his tone leaving no room for disagreement.

You looked up at him, your breath catching at the raw intensity in his gaze.

“I think I said something, sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice lowering to a soft but commanding murmur. “What do you say?”

Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, the fire in his eyes fueling your own excitement. 

“I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Logan’s lips. 

“Such a good girl,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips that left you craving more.

You whimpered softly as he began unzipping your dress, the cool air brushing against your skin as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed under his hungry gaze.

The sensation of his fingers brushing against your bare back sent shivers through you, making you breathless.

Once the dress was loosened enough, he guided it off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, his eyes never leaving yours. The look of hunger in his gaze made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly desired.

Logan’s hands roamed over your bare skin with a possessive intensity, each touch sending waves of pleasure through you. 

His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, primal desire that made every touch feel electrifying.

He took his time, savoring the way your body responded to his touch. His fingertips traced patterns across your skin, exploring and teasing as he gradually shifted his focus to your bare breasts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised before taking one of your nipples in your mouth.

You moaned in delight, your hand instinctively moving to grip his hair, pulling him closer as you arched into his touch.

Logan’s mouth worked expertly, his tongue flicking and sucking with a rhythm that drove you wild.

After a few moments, he pulled back slightly, his lips still lingering on your skin. 

His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “You have no idea what it did to me, seeing you in that black dress. It made me want you more than I thought was possible.”

Logan's hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer until you could feel the hardness straining against his pants.

You whimpered as you started grinding on his clothed cock making him groan. You began to grind against his clothed erection, the friction causing both of you to moan. 

His grip tightened, guiding your movements with an urgency that made your breath hitch. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how much you want this.”

You could feel his need growing, matched by your own as you pressed harder against him.

As you continued to move, Logan’s hands slid down to cup your ass, pulling you closer and deepening the contact. 

His kisses were fierce, trailing down your neck as he held you against him. The heat and urgency in his touch made every moment more intense, heightening the pleasure for both of you.

Logan’s breaths were ragged, his voice low and feral as he groaned against your skin.

“I need you,” you whispered between kisses, your voice a desperate plea. 

With a growl, he bent down so that his face was level with your black lacy panties. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs before his teeth caught the edge of your panties. In one swift, deliberate motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding away like a tease.

You moaned as the cool air hit your bare pussy.

Logan’s gaze remained fixed on you as he tossed the panties aside. His hands cupped your hips, pulling you closer. 

He pressed a heated kiss to your inner thigh, his breath warm against your skin.

When his lips finally brushed against your core, the shock of pleasure made you gasp.

Your hands carded through his hair making him grunt.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, peach,” he murmured eating you out like a man starved, his praise sending a wave of pleasure that made you moan uncontrollably.

He continued his assault on your pussy with his tongue. The way he alternated between teasing licks and firm strokes made you see stars, your moans growing louder with each passing second.

“Lo I’m gonna-” you shut your eyes with contentment as he flicked your clit with his tongue, his movements becoming faster.

“Cum for me baby,” he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. His command sent you over the edge, your body surrendering to the powerful waves of pleasure that crashed over you.

Logan straightened up, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he licked his lips.

“I could eat that pussy for hours,” he said before undoing his belt.

Your eyes widened with anticipation as his cock sprang free, thick, and ready.

With a swift motion, he pressed you against the wall, the cool surface brushing against your bare breasts.

You felt him line his cock against your entrance making you mewl.

“Don’t worry, peach, I’ll take care of you,” his breath brushed against your ear before he playfully nibbled it, causing a light shiver to run through you.

He entered you with a groan.

“Always so fucking tight,” he hissed as your mouth contorted into an o shape from his length stretching you.

He didn’t even give you a moment to adjust to his size before his hips began to move, thrusting deep and relentlessly.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he panted, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust that drove you higher and higher. 

Your only response was a high-pitched moan, your body arching involuntarily.

“You wanted me jealous, wanted me to fuck you like this,” he growled, one calloused hand wrapping around your throat while the other found your clit, teasing and tormenting you.

“Well, sweetheart, you got your wish,” he snarled, his cock twitching inside you as your screams urged him on, driving him deeper with every thrust, each one perfectly hitting your g-spot.

He groaned, eyes closing momentarily as he felt you tighten around him. 

“Keep making those pretty little sounds, baby,” he commanded, quickening the pace of his hips, and making you squeal even louder.

“Logan, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, your breath hitching as your walls fluttered around him.

“Then cum for me,” he demanded, his voice thick with desire.

The heat between you grew unbearable, and you could feel your release building, your body on the brink of release.

Logan's grip on your throat tightened slightly, just enough to remind you of his control, while his other hand continued its merciless assault on your clit. The rhythm of his hips became erratic, his own need evident as he pounded into you with increasing urgency.

"Come on, baby," he rasped, his voice rough and filled with dark promise. "I want to feel you cum around my cock. Let go for me."

That was all it took. 

Pleasure shot through you in waves that left you breathless and shuddering beneath him. Your walls clenched tight around him, milking his cock as you rode out your orgasm, the world fading into nothing but intense, consuming bliss.

Logan groaned deeply, his own restraint slipping as he felt you convulse around him. 

His hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he let out a guttural growl, releasing inside you in hot, pulsing waves.

He held you there, still and breathless, his body pressed tightly against yours as you both came down from the high. 

Slowly, he released his hold on your throat, his fingers brushing over the marks he'd left behind. His other hand stayed between your legs, gently soothing you as you both caught your breath.

"That's my girl," Logan murmured, his voice softer now, laced with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "You did so good, baby."

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile coming to your lips.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rough, as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. 

“You think you can handle it?” he teased back, though the edge in his voice told you he wasn’t entirely joking.

You bit your lip, feeling the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through your body.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the outline of your swollen lips before leaning down to capture them in a searing kiss. 

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your release.

Logan’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and warning as he let out a low chuckle. 

“You might want to be careful with that, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rough but tinged with affection. 

He leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender after the intensity of what you’d just shared. 

“Because you know I’ll always give you exactly what you ask for.”

You smiled into the kiss, your heart still racing but now with a warmth that spread through your chest. 

“Maybe that’s what I’m counting on,” you teased, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

He groaned softly, his hand trailing down your side, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. 

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his tone full of admiration as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “But you’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”

“Don’t worry I won’t,”

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part four

(Yes I'm posting another one don't look at me) Happy New Year's Eve everyone! Another treat for the holidays from me as I keep writing at the speed of light xxx

Warnings: angst angst angst!

When you get downstairs to the hotel lobby in the morning, Hotch thinks it’s time to play twenty-fucking-questions.

“Did you sleep?”

You give him a weird look. This is question number seven. “I took a nap. I’m fine.” Never mind the fact that Hotch doesn’t look like he slept a wink. He probably stayed awake, mulling over files all night.

“How much did you smoke?” he asks. Number eight.

Behind you, Derek joins in as he walks up with coffee. “You bought cigarettes? We talked about this.”

“Can both of you get off my dick?” you laugh, trying to hide how annoyed and uncomfortable this is making you. “We have a missing girl. Shouldn’t we focus on that? Can we go?”

“Does everyone have what they need?” Hotch asks, though he’s already moving toward the door. His phone lights up in his hand and he takes it, muttering, “This is Agent Hotchner.”

You all wait anxiously for Hotch to finish the call, but continue walking toward the parking lot. It’s not until you’re nearly at the cars that the call ends, and Hotch begins speed walking.

“That was the sheriff,” he says, opening the driver’s side door. “Richard Monroe turned himself in five minutes ago.”

“What?” you blurt, hopping in the passenger seat of Hotch’s car without thinking. You see Derek get in the backseat and think thank god someone else got in. “Does he have Lila?” As much as you hate Hotch’s view of this case, you still feel the need to ask.

“No,” Hotch says, and you feel a spark of pride in yourself. “He claims to not know where she is.”

You groan, but it’s cut off by a surprised yelp as Hotch speeds onto the main road, putting the lights on, and squealing the tires. You reach up for the safety bar, holding on for dear life as Hotch races to the precinct.

+++

Richard Monroe looks like a ghost.

He spends the first few minutes of the interrogation asking Morgan where Lila is. And when Morgan finally says “we don’t know,” Richard starts to cry.

“Hotch…” you shake your head, looking away. “He’s telling the truth. He doesn’t have her.”

Hotch stays silent, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Richard and Morgan. “Or he’s playing a game.”

“Can you be serious for one second?” 

Hotch doesn’t even turn his head to look at you. Instead, you get a glare from the corner of his eye. “I am being serious.”

“We need to ask him if he knows anyone that might pose as him,” you press. 

Hotch ignores you.

Morgan stands and leaves the interrogation room, coming out to stand next to you and Hotch. “He’s distraught, man.”

“Because he doesn’t have her,” you insist. “Let me talk to him.”

“No,” Hotch says.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“Because I don’t need to,” Hotch replies, still cold. “You don’t have clearance.”

“Clearance?”

“Hotch, what does that even mean?” Morgan butts in, surprising you. “It can’t hurt, man. I think he needs someone in there that’s not me or you. He’s just going to get angry if you walk in there.”

“Exactly,” you nod in agreement. “He needs to feel in control again. So let me.”

Hotch takes a moment to at least think about it, and then he says, “Go.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Go before I change my mind.”

You smile. “Is there a box of tissues around?”

+++

You set the box of tissues in front of Richard Monroe, also giving him a cup of water. He keeps his head down, his fingers clenched together.

“Here,” you barely whisper. “I’m really sorry about my colleague. He can get a little…aggressive.”

Richard says nothing, but he does nod.

“I’m Agent L/N,” you begin. “I’m new. I just felt so bad for you, I had to come say something.” You pause, taking the seat across from him. “I’m really sorry about your daughter. We’re doing everything we can to find her. I know you had nothing to do with this.”

“I really didn’t,” he says. The words are as quiet as they are pitiful. “I wouldn’t. Not her.”

“I know,” you nod. You need to ask your next question. You just hope it won’t set him off again. “Do you know anyone who would?” 

He shakes his head, but doesn’t seem angry or upset. “No one knows about her. And if they do, they know not to fucking touch her.”

That sounds about right. “I understand,” you nod. “Is there anyone who would,” you pause and chuckle, playing up the dumb newbie act, “have ‘beef’ with you, so to speak? About anything?”

He looks up then, and grins. It makes your stomach turn. “They don’t live long enough.”

You lean into your startled reaction. You can see he’s opening up more and more with how vulnerable you let yourself seem. 

He grabs the cup of water and downs it in one go. “How new are you?”

“It’s my first day,” you reply sheepishly, making yourself smaller and smaller. “I’m not supposed to be in here, but I just felt so bad.”

“You’re a sweet girl,” Richard says, still with the same smile that makes you uneasy. It takes too long for you to realize that it’s the same crazed look your dad used to have. “What’s a sweet girl like you doing working for the FBI?”

“What’s someone like you doing turning yourself in to the FBI?” you counter. “I’ve heard about you, y’know.”

Richard leans back in his seat. “Yeah? What have you heard?”

“That you’ve gotten away with it all thus far,” you shrug. “Been completely off the FBI’s radar. So why’d you jump back on it now?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “How new did you say you were?”

You ignore him. He’s halfway onto you now anyway. “Surely it’s not just because your daughter has gone missing. You couldn’t possibly love her that m—”

He slams his hands on the table hard, and you almost jump, but you don’t move an inch. He stares at you, that same wild look you’ve seen before.

“You don’t scare me,” you say. “What’s the real reason you’re here?”

His left eye twitches. “Why do you look familiar?”

Your blood runs cold but you don’t show it. “Why are you avoiding my question?” You cross your arms over your chest. “I know you don’t give a shit about your ex-wife either, Richard, so what is it?”

“You think we’re all the same, don’t you?” he taunts. “That just because we do what we do means we can’t feel love.”

I know you can’t, you think. “Do you love your daughter?”

“Yes,” he answers instantly. Zero doubt. “And despite what my ex-wife tells you, I love her too. I just want to keep them safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“People like me,” he replies. “Who do you think?”

You stay silent for a moment. He’s studying your face in a way you don’t like. That’s your cue to leave.

You nod like you’ve figured him out and stand up, pushing your chair in. “Do you want more water?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, turning for the door.

“What’d you say your name was?”

You repeat it, knowing it will tell him nothing. There’s a reason you changed it. He seems dissatisfied as you expected because if your hunch is right about his, it wasn’t the surname he expected you to have.

He shouldn’t have expected you to keep the name. Lila probably won’t keep hers.

You return to the other room where Hotch is waiting and watching. His eyes follow you as you step inside, looking through the window at Richard.

“I’m not sure if any of that was remotely useful,” you admit. “But maybe he’ll be more amenable now. I seem to have caught him off guard.”

Hotch says nothing. And he won’t stop looking at you.

You sigh, turning to meet his eyes with a tired stare. You raise your eyebrows. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Why did he recognize you?”

You keep your expression neutral. “I don’t know, Hotch. Ask him. He’s the one in handcuffs.”

Hotch seems to accept your answer — or if he doesn’t, he doesn’t show it. You leave him to brood and head back into the conference room to help Reid. Rossi goes to join Hotch and you pointedly don’t think about how they’re probably talking about you.

+++

Richard must really love his daughter. He’s not happy to learn there’s someone posing as him on said chatting site, and that they convinced Lila to run away with them. 

He swears up and down that he’ll do anything to help find her. It makes you angrier than it should.

You’re not angry at him, not really. You know it’s misguided anger. You know who you’re really angry at. But you refuse to admit that to yourself, so instead you’re picking fights with your boss.

Although, in your opinion, Hotch started it.

“You’re seriously going to keep me from speaking to him just because he thinks he recognizes me?” You nearly roll your eyes at Hotch, but you stop yourself. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re being defensive,” Hotch points out, his arms crossed like he’s trying to prove a point. “What are you not telling me?”

“Why are you so interested?” you counter, crossing your arms too. You’re not trying to mock him, but if it comes across that way, then so be it. “Trying to get in my pants or something?”

Hotch’s gaze might as well be laced with fire. “Take a walk. Now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Agent—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You glare at him over your shoulder as you head for the doors of the precinct.

You shove the doors open with a huff, turning and walking to the left of the parking lot. You’re really wishing you didn’t leave the pack of cigarettes in your hotel room right about now.

What the hell is Hotch’s problem— No, what the hell is Richard’s problem? Why does he think he knows you? How is that even possible? 

You think back. Your dad would’ve been in his sixties now, pushing seventy. Richard is 54. The possibility that they knew each other is small, but still there, and not impossible like you’d prefer. The fact that the possibility is there at all is pissing you off.

You’re not stupid. You know this comes with the territory. You know this is what you get for testing fate like this. But there’s a reason you changed your name. There’s a reason your mom packed everything up and moved halfway across the country with you when you were a teenager. It was a new start, a new life. One where you had no ties to him. None.

So why does some random FBI’s Most Wanted act like he’s seen your face before? Has he? How?

“You’re gonna start a tornado if you keep turning in circles like that.”

“Not in the mood, Morgan,” you say calmly, despite the anger raging through you. “Sorry if he’s being a jackass.” You raise your hand and gesture to yourself, “My fault.”

Morgan scoffs. “Right.”

You shrug. As much as Hotch irritates the shit out of you, you’re well aware you bring it on yourself sometimes. It doesn’t help that he gets under your skin so easily and will have you firing off at any little thing. You bring it on yourself just as much as he starts it on his own.

You’re both at fault and neither of you will admit it. Ever. Over your dead body.

“Come back inside.”

“Can’t. I’ve been exiled.”

“Y/N,” Morgan tries again. “What’s going on?”

You stop pacing. “Nothing is going on.”

“Hotch told me the guy recognized you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Hotch is paranoid.”

“Really? ‘Cause right now you’re looking just as paranoid.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I know you are, but don’t, okay?” you all but plead. “Leave it alone. Please.”

Morgan tilts his head. He looks ready to do everything except leave it alone. “You’ll tell me if it’s a problem?”

“Yes,” you nod, meaning it. He’s dead, anyway, so it won’t be a problem. “But it’s really not. And I’m not paranoid, I’m just thinking. Well— Maybe I am paranoid. We need to find her.”

“We will,” Morgan says. “Now, come inside. We need everyone on deck.”

You can’t argue with that and you’re cooled down enough now, so you relent. “Alright.”

You follow Morgan back into the precinct and into the conference room with the rest of the team. You share a look and single nod with Hotch. A silent truce, for now. 

+++

Turns out, a serial killer like Richard does have a lot of enemies, including some who would jump at the chance to torment his daughter. Go figure.

They’re easier to narrow down and pinpoint once Richard actually starts to work with the team. Hotch struck a deal, apparently, to make his sentence lighter if he helps. No death penalty, but still life in prison, after all he’s done.

To your surprise, Richard is relieved about no death penalty. Because, he said, if there’s any chance his daughter will see him one day, he wants to be alive.

It sends a spark of anger through you so hot that you have to walk away. 

You spend the rest of the day with Reid, decoding messages, silently nodding back and forth, and chewing on as many pen caps as you can. It’s probably not good for your teeth, but neither of you care about that right now.

You’re both shocked out of your trances when Morgan comes flying into the room, Garcia on speakerphone, with Hotch and Prentiss right behind them. 

“I found her phone, I found it,” Garcia’s voice comes through the speaker. “Sending coordinates to everyone now.”

“Rossi and JJ are on it,” Hotch answers. “They’re already out.”

“It’s not moving, so it might be nothing,” Garcia says.

You worry for a moment that her phone is thrown in a bush somewhere. And then you feel sick to your stomach when Rossi confirms as much.

“They’re bringing it back here,” Hotch says, his phone still pressed to his ear. “It’s broken, like someone threw it out. Garcia, can you get me any and all CCTV footage in the area?”

“Already ahead of you, sir,” she replies. “Give me five.” The call ends abruptly, no doubt so she can focus and type faster.

“Should we tell Richard?” you ask. “He’s been cooperating, but this could be an extra push.”

Hotch studies you for a moment. “Fine. But wait until they bring the phone. Show it to him.” 

He gives you a look that just screams and if he recognizes you again, you’re out.

[munsonfamilyband]

I’ve decided to elaborate on Steve’s Mom being good

~~~~

“Elizabeth Harrington.” She didn’t usually answer calls but Richard was busy preparing for his meeting that afternoon, so here she was answering the cellphone she had bought so that Steve could reach them at any time.

“Hi there, are you Steven Harrington’s mother?”

“Yes… who am I speaking to?” There was a pit of worry growing in her stomach, somehow she knew this wouldn’t be a nice conversation.

“I’m calling from Hawkins Memorial Hospital. Your son has just been admitted and is being treated for infected animal bites and a potential concussion. We’re calling because your son has a history of head trauma and we wanted to inform his family that he is being treated.” Her heart stopped for a moment, barely able to hear over the ringing in her ears. Her son, her only son, her baby, was in the hospital. What did she mean infected animal bites? And history of head trauma? What had she missed as she allowed Richard to drag her all over the country.

“Thank you, I-we will be there as soon as we can. We will be there, thank you.” She hung up before the nurse could respond and, blinking back tears, began gathering her things and throwing them into her suitcase. As she was folding up her skirts, Richard walked into the bedroom and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to leave, I just got a call from the hospital at home, Steve is there, he-“ She was interrupted by Richard scoffing and she looked up to see him roll his eyes.

“We can’t leave, Elizabeth. I have a very important meeting this afternoon. Besides, Steven will be fine, he was last time.” Elizabeth froze, her blood going cold as she stared at Richard in dawning horror.

“What do you mean, last time?”

“The boy is so needy. I got a call last summer from that hospital that Steven was there, something about his job at the mall, I don’t know. We were in the middle of that big merger and I said he would be fine. And he was, when we came home-“

“We didn’t come home until late August, that merger was around the fourth. My son was in the hospital and you never told me?” The cold numbness she had felt just moments ago was disappearing, fast, and replaced by a burning hot rage. Fury that she had put up with this man for so long, that she had let him do so much to her son, that she hadn’t noticed that her son had been hurt last summer. “Who do you think you are to hide that from me?!”

“I am your husband, and I can hide whatever I like from you. The boy is fine, he doesn’t need more of your coddling.” In that moment, anger coursing through her veins, Elizabeth made a quick decision. Straightening her back, she turned away from Richard to begin packing again.

“Fine, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. I will go by myself and be with my son.”

“How exactly are you planning to get there? You’re not taking my car.”

“I don’t need your car. In case you have forgotten, I am the one with the money in this marriage. I have my inheritance, and the house- speaking of,” she grabbed the phone, dialing a number and turning to face him as she put it to her ear. With a grin, she heard the bank correspondent answer and ask what they could do for her. “Hello, I am looking to remove someone from my account.” She stared at Richard with a smug grin as she recited the account number and told them who she wanted removed. “And if you could add a message or something in your books to let anyone know that if he tries to access the account to not let him and call the police, that would be greatly appreciated.” When they confirmed that the note had been recorded and her account was all hers, she thanked them and hung up. “You can keep the parts of my inheritance that I gave you, but the rest of it is mine.” She took great pleasure in seeing how red his face was before turning back to her luggage and zipping it up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see my son. You should be getting a letter from a divorce attorney in a few days.”

She left the room without saying goodbye and got in a cab, heading straight to the airport. Elizabeth thought she should be crying, she had just ended her 30 year long marriage after all, but she felt like screaming instead. Screaming about how free she felt for the first time in her life.

The airport was full of people running around, clearly trying to get somewhere but being stopped by something. It wasn’t until she caught sight of a TV screen that she realized what was happening.

“7.4 Magnitude Earthquake Rocks Hawkins, IN”

She starts walking toward the counter faster.

———

After managing to charter a small plane to get as close to Hawkins as she could, then getting a cab that was willing to drive into Hawkins, Elizabeth found herself running into the hospital and fighting her way though the crowd of people to the nurses station.

“I’m looking for Steven Harrington, I got a call a couple hours ago that he was here-“ A voice behind her spoke before the nurse could.

“You’re here for Steve?” She turned and saw a group of the most dirty teenagers she may have ever seen. She could vaguely recognize two of the children as Sue Sinclair’s but she didn’t know their names. She did recognize Nancy Wheeler, though she had thought her and Steve weren’t dating anymore.

“Nancy?” The girl mirrored her own confused face, brow furrowed as they looked at each other.

“Mrs. Harrington? What are you doing here?”

“I got a call in Chicago that Steve was here and I came as fast as I could, what are you…I thought you and Steve weren’t-“

“Oh! No, we aren’t dating, but we are friends and he got hurt so….here we are.” Nancy gestured to the other people around her, including a girl her age in a red beret that was staring at her like she was an alien.

“Right….” Just as she was about to ask who the others were, a nurse tapped her on the shoulder and informed her that she could come back to see Steve. Elizabeth didn’t even stop to say goodbye to the group of children she had just seen, all she could focus on was seeing her son.

When she entered his room - after having to go into a new wing with men in black suits standing in front of the doors - she nearly collapsed. Because there was her son, lying in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around his head and neck, looking so small in a way he hadn’t since he was little. She stumbled forward and the noise she made had Steve jolting, looking around the room like a cornered animal. She hurried closer and grabbed his hand in both of hers, getting him to focus fully on her.

“Steve, sweetie, you’re okay, it’s just me.” He squinted in her direction before something like shock covered his face.

“….mom? What are you…what are you doing here?” Her heart cracked at the hesitancy in his voice and she felt tears drip down her cheeks.

“I got a call from the hospital earlier, I got on a plane and got here as fast as I could. Your father….well, he’s not here.” Steve stared at her, processing her words as he blinked slowly.

“Why now? You didn’t come last time, why now?” She could see the tears shining in his eyes that he was fighting back and her heart cracked all over again.

“Oh, my sweet boy…. If I had known, I would have been here.”

“What…what do you mean, if you had known? The hospital called, how could you-“ He cut himself off and his eyes widened slightly. “Dad….dad got the call, didn’t he?” She nodded sadly, knowing that no more had to be said. Reaching forward, she cupped his cheek with one of her hands, rubbing her thumb gently under his eye and she smiled sadly as he leaned into it.

“I’m leaving your father.” Steve’s attention snapped back to her, trying to sit up in his bed and she quickly shushed him, guiding him back to laying down. “I should have left him years ago. All the things I let him do to you….I am so, so sorry, Steve. I should have done this a long time ago but I wasn’t brave enough. Finding out that you had been hurt enough to be in the hospital and he never told me… that was the final straw for me. I already took him off the inheritance account.”

“Mom…. That- I am so proud of you. I can’t imagine how scary that was-“ She brushed that aside with a wave of her hand.

“We can worry about that later, me being on my own is not the most important thing right now. Steve, baby, what happened? They said you had infected animal bites, and-and a history of head trauma? How much…. How much have I missed in your life?” They stared at each other in silence and she watched Steve thinking about his next words very carefully. His careful thinking didn’t do much good though when his tears came back with a vengeance.

“Mama….” Immediately she was wrapping him in her arms. He hadn’t called her that in years, ever since Richard insisted that she was coddling him too much. He was only 8, but out of fear or a need to please, she had listened and the nights of watching movies with him curled into her side had ended. They had been so close when he was little but had drifted apart after that moment. Now, she knew that she wouldn’t leave him again because here he was, crying in her arms and calling her mama for the first time in a decade.

“It’s alright, my sweet boy, it’s alright, I’m right here…”

———

When Steve had calmed down some he was able to tell her everything, after warning her that she would have to sign multiple NDAs just by hearing what he had to say. She was horrified, and angry, and she wanted to kill her husband for dragging her away from her son when he had been fighting monsters for years without her even knowing. Once he had explained it all, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Do you mind if I step out? I’m going to go call an attorney to get the divorce process started now. I want to be done with your father as soon as I possibly can be.” He nodded but was having a hard time letting go of her hand, so with a gentle smile she took off her jacket and handed it over to him. “I promise I will be back. Do you want me to send someone else in while I’m gone? All of the children you adopted are in the lobby.”

He gave her a dry smile, clearly feeling better if he could sense her joke. “Could you send Robin in?” He was holding onto her jacket for dear life, and with a pang she was reminded of him clutching his teddy bear the same way when he was little.

“I can do that. Is Robin…?” She wanted to know everything she had missed, and if he had a girlfriend then she wanted to know.

“Robin? Oh, god, no. The kids joke that we share a brain sometimes, but I think we have twin souls. I haven’t….I don’t have the match to my soul yet, but Robin and I, ours are identical. She’s my best friend.” Elizabeth knew what he was talking about and smiled as she left the room. As a child he had been obsessed with soulmates, he took after her romantic heart. He had said he wanted to meet the person whose soul completed his, but she had told him that wasn’t how it worked. His soul was already complete, but his soulmate would have a soul that added to his, like paintings in a series: complete works on their own but they become something bigger when they are together. He had clearly taken that idea to heart and was trying to find that person.

Stepping into the lobby she found it mostly empty, clearly people had been moved to see their loved ones. With a gently cough to get the groups attention, she spoke. “Which one of you is Robin?”

The girl in the beret sat up straight, staring her down in an almost challenging way. “I am. Why?”

“I have to make a call and he’s asked if you could go back.” The girl stood and narrowed her eyes at her.

“What? Couldn’t even stay with him for an hour before you had to run off-“

“Robin!” Nancy cut her off, clearly telling her to be nicer but Elizabeth appreciated the girl’s fierce protection of her son.

“I’m calling a divorce lawyer so that I can finally leave Steve’s father. I want to get it started as fast as possible so that neither of us has to deal with him far any longer than we absolutely need to.” The girl blinked at her in surprise and Elizabeth placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I know I haven’t been there for Steve, and I hate myself for how long I let it go on. I know he and I will have a lot of things to work through, but I am not planning on leaving him again. I’m glad he has a friend like you, though. Finding someone who matches you on such a deep level is rare, and if anyone deserves that, it’s him.” The girl nodded at her with wide eyes and Elizabeth walked away to go find a phone.

When she returned to Steve’s room later everyone else had moved into the space, including someone on a second bed closer to the window. Steve noticed her first and reached a hand out to her.

“Mom…” Without hesitation, she pulled a chair over and sat down beside him, clutching his hand in hers and pressing a kiss to the top of it.

“Hi, sweetie. The attorney is finalizing the paperwork and then sending it to your father so he should be getting it in a few days.” Steve gave her a tired smile and then looked around the room.

“Do you…do you want me to introduce you to everyone?”

“If you feel up for it, I would love to meet them.”

“Alright, well you know Nance and you already spoke with Robin.” He gestured to the girls sitting on the other side of his bed before nodding to the little girl curled up in a chair by his feet, resting her head against his leg. “That’s Erica, you and Sue Sinclair were friends right? She’s her youngest. Lucas was in the waiting room but he’s with Max next door, he’s Sue’s older kid. Max is his maybe-girlfriend, it’s complicated.” Elizabeth smiled at the little girl who had curled one fist around the blankets of Steve’s bed. She could hear Steve slurring his words a little from exhaustion but he kept talking. He looked over at the other bed where a boy his age with long hair was sleeping, covered in bandages, and another boy, younger than Steve but not as young as Erica, who was sleeping on the couch under the window. “That’s Dustin on the couch, he’s the one whose cat got eaten, remember? And then, uh, that’s Eddie, in the bed. He’s-he’s new, this is his first go around, and he got really hurt but they said he’ll be okay.”

Elizabeth managed to school her face into a neutral expression when she saw the blush that colored Steve’s cheeks when he spoke about Eddie. She could see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he was well on his way to being smitten with the other boy but she didn’t want to startle him too badly. So she decided to wait to speak to him about that until later.

The time finally came a couple hours later, Steve had just woken up again and everyone else had fallen asleep so Elizabeth took her chance.

“Steve? I know I haven’t been great about showing you lately, but I do love you very much. And if, for any reason, you had something you wanted to tell me, I wouldn’t stop loving you.” He blinked at her, the blush rising up his neck once again.

“Uh, well, I know I said I hadn’t found the match to my soul yet, but that may not be fully true.” She gave him a smile and glanced over at the other bed.

“I can see what you see in him, he’s your type.” Steve turned bright red.

“He’s-what-I don’t-what do you mean by that?”

“Well, he looks a lot like Nancy is all. Big curly hair, large eyes. I also know how you felt about that man in the space movie, the one who did that treasure hunting movie?”

“I-Mom are you talking about Harrison Ford?”

“Yes, that’s his name! I can tell when you like someone, Steve, and you always paid more attention to those movies.” Steve just groaned in embarrassment.

“I can’t believe that you picked up on that.” He glanced at her, the nervousness back on his face. “You aren’t… you don’t care, that he’s a guy?”

“Steve, my beautiful boy, all I want is for you to be happy. Besides, I have a cousin back in Italy who just married a man a few years ago. I thought it was rather romantic, that they decided to get married even if the law wouldn’t recognize it.” Steve smiled at her, tears in his eyes.

“I’ve missed you so much, mama.”

“And I’ve missed you, sweetie. Go back to sleep, you need your rest.” He nodded at her and in moments he was back to sleep.

She knew they had a lot to do, a lot of healing both on their own and together to get over years of trauma and trust issues, but she knew, somehow, that they would be okay.

[marimayscarlett]

Little recap of the last concert in Gelsenkirchen // some of the most memorable things for me 🤍

First of all, spending the day and/or concert with @m---e---l, @vulnerant-omnes @tinnike and @iinchicore - laughed, cried, had a great time with you all, thank you a lot ladies 🤍

Hug in the elevator - I saw no feet in the elevator, panicked (❗), then saw the group hug and bawled so hard my contact lenses got out of place 🤙🏻

Richard's growling. I will not elaborate, but rest assured, I did have several thoughts about it:

Puppe cam: Till abandoning the band to play the same melody for about 4 minutes and his appreciation of backstage staff 🤲🏼

Butcher Till with sparkly hat, apron and dick out. A summer look 🌞

"Mit Maggi macht das Kochen Spaß" - Till getting passed a bottle of Maggi instead of a flamethrower for the Flake-soup 🍲

hallucinatory corner™: my delusional ass thinking that Richard nodded in acknowledgement when he saw my hand-heart 🫶🏻 (he most likely absolutely didn't)

Paulchard Polonaise - no kiss, but party dance 🪩 -> but then later: Pussy Paulchard kiss - blink and you get foam in your eyes and miss it 💋

Fan cam time partly used for some Rammstein crew appreciation 🙏🏻

Richard's boat ride with Maxime (dad being 😬😵‍💫, daughter being 😃👐🏻)

Sleeveless Richard + stripping his coat very enthusiastically (no, I have not recovered from this, my phone almost slipped out of my hand during this)

Richard holding on to Till's sleeve and pulling him into a hug and Till hugging him just as tight 🫂

Paul crying, Schneider being on the verge of tears, Richard barely holding on while Olli dances in the elevator 🕺🏻

little sweet moments after the concert: meeting a lady from the Frankfurt concert a few weeks back, random lady checking in on me while I bawled my eyes out after the concert, and random guy complimenting my red dress, telling me he loves the DRSG mv and later screaming 'Du riechst so gut!' at me from his car window and waving 👋🏻

Couldn't have wished for a better last concert or nicer people to spend it with. It was magical 💗

(thank you @vulnerant-omnes for taking this picture 🤍)

[magknightidv]

The Knight and The Florist.

Masterlist.

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect from an Idv fic. (Fairly short)

Richard Sterling x fem! Reader

---

The Florist. Y/n L/n. Recently dragged into the claws of Oletus Manor by a mysterious letter supposedly telling her of clues of the location of her missing brother. A boy so young when he was stolen from their mothers arms, the girl had barely understood the severity of the situation until she watched her family succumb to an illness that she was immune to.

How will her first meeting with the equally as new "Knight" go?

---

Matches. Games. Decode. Run. Hunters. Survivors. All key words I must remember. I must. One wrong move could cost me and the other survivors our winning matches, the more we win the more we get in return. Or so I've been told by Lily. She's a sweet girl who means well, energetic, maybe a little peculiar.

What if I fail my match. Who will come rescue me. I've been teamed with the other newest survivors, they likely will not be as experienced as the players who have been stuck here for years. No, they simply won't be as experienced. I cannot be fully sure I won't fumble and lose us a match. I do not even know how to play these games, decoding seems simple enough but what do I do if the hunter finds me? I can supposedly contain the hunter but I do not even know how to, I can even support people in some equally as unkown way. Oh how I wish they'd put me in a practise match where there would be no rewards, no consequences. Just a bit of practise.

My breathing becomes heavier and my room suddenly feels a lot smaller. I can't take it. Out.

Get out.

Leave.

Run.

Hide.

A ring of black takes the edges of my vision as I sprint towards the garden area of the manor. The flora and fauna will comfort me, surely. They wither quickly, like my family did. I'm safe with them. In my rush, I fail to notice the taller figure of a man in front of me as I enter the greenhouse.

My head smacks straight into the figure's shoulder, he grunts and turns with arms outstretched as though to catch me should I fall. I don't fall but I do stumble back in my panicked shock and take in his appearance. Long, dark hair, heterochromic eyes of blue and brown, a lean build. He's incredibly handsome, and the beauty mark just below the left (my side) side of his mouth adds to his looks.

"I-" My words fail me as I stare at the man in complete awe. He's the even newer "Knight" I suppose. A moment of stunned silence overtakes us. The greenhouse calms as though even the plants were riled up by the outburst before calming with my own heartrate. "I'm so sorry." I finally blurt out.

The man doesn't seem to particularly care, almost apathetic even before realising I'm apologising. "Oh. It is no issue, I suppose I was the one blocking the doorway." He bows slightly before returning to his towering height.

"My name is Richard Sterling. I have been dubbed, The "Knight", of these games. If it is not too much to ask, would you be able to tell me what this entails?" His tone is sincere and face although fairly flat, there is a slight upturn to his lips. The sense of dread fills me once more as I realise he's asking for advice. Advice I cannot offer.

"I'm very sorry Mr Sterling. I, myself have not been present for any matches yet. I am able to show you the schedule however if you would like? I saw that our first match would be together I believe, so we can learn together." I try to pull a kind smile onto my lips and it works as he smiles in return.

"Yes, I would like that miss..?" He holds his arm out for me to take, I wrap my arm around his and begin to lead him.

"Y/n L/n, The Florist."

What did I come to the greenhouse for again? I strain my memory to try and remember but all I see is the embarrassing but enjoyable first meeting with Richard.

---fin.

Something short and sweet, I have more ideas for these two that I wanna get to working on. REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW PEOPLE START SENDING THEM IN PLEASSEEE I BEG.

[salixsociety]

Germanic Paganism Resource Masterlist

Notes: - Updates will be beyond infrequent. - Feel free to pop into my ask box requesting resource recommendations at any moment. - Resources do not reflect my personal beliefs or practice. I may include otherwise great resources that include theories and ideologies I do not support (such as the 'sign of the Hammer'), because I make extensive use of cross-referencing, reflection, etc to determine everything I incorporate into my craft. - I will never consciously add resources written by (Neo-)Nazis and the like. If you spot them, feel free to let me know. - You may notice there is a seemingly disproportionate amount of sources also or primarily talking about Scandinavia and Iceland, and even some primarily covering England. This is because continental Germanic paganism has only barely survived the ravages of time, and one can only learn about it if they supplement their knowledge with the more complete pictures of Anglo-Saxon paganism and Norse paganism.

Legend: [No language identifier means the source is English.] [D] - The resource is written (primarily) in Dutch. [G] - The resource is written (primarily) in German. [ON] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old Norse. [OD] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old Dutch. [OG] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old High German. [L] - The resource is written (primarily) in Latin. [F] - The resource is written (primarily) in French. * - I have not read the resource in its entirety. ** - Read with caution. !! - There is more of the resource available/this is one part of multiple.

Historic Texts and References

Tacitus' Agricola and Germania

Tacitus' Annals

The Prose Edda

The Poetic Edda

The First Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Contemporary Books, Essays, Other Media

Myths and symbols in pagan Europe : early Scandinavian and Celtic religions - H.R. Ellis Davidson

Kleinere Altniederdeutsche Denkmälen - Heyne [G]*

Religion and Philosophy in Germany : a Fragment - Heine *

Deutsche Volkskunde - Adolf Bach [G]*

Teutonic Mythology - Grimm

Swedish Legends and Folk Tales - John Lindow

Scandinavian Mythology : an Annotated Bibliography - John Lindow *

Trolls : an Unnatural History - John Lindow

Myths of the Norsemen from the Eddas and Sagas - H.A. Guerber

Northern mythology : comprising the principal popular traditions and superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and The Netherlands - Benjamin Thorpe | VOL 1, VOL 2, VOL 3

From Myth to Fiction : the Saga of Hadingus - Georges Dumézil *

The Stakes of the Warrior - Georges Dumézil **

Gods of the Ancient Norsemen - Georges Dumézil **

Zum Tamfana-Rätsel - Edmund Weber [G]*

De Tijdstippen van de Cultische Jaarfeesten - Boppo Grimmsma [D]**

Nederlansche Volksoverleveringen en Godenleer - Van den Bergh [D, OD]*

Tales and Legends of Tyrol *

Germanic Spirituality - Bil Linzie

Handwörterbuch des Deutschen Auberglaubens - Baechtold-Staubl, Hoffman-Krayer

Goden van de Lage Landen - Gunivortus Goos [D]**

Runic and Heroic Poems of the Old Teutonic Peoples - Dickins *

Gods and Myths of Northern Europe - H.R. Ellis Davidson

Old Norse - Icelandic Literature : a Critical Guide - John Lindow

Vikings : a Very Short Introduction - Richards *

Norse Mythology : a Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals and Beliefs - John Lindow

Antwoord op de Vraag, door het Zeeuwse Genootschap de Wetenschappen - te Water [D]*

Verhandelingen over het Westland, ter opheldering der Loo-en, Woerden en Hoven, benevens de natuurdienst der Batavieren en Friezen - Buddingh [D]*

De Goden der Germanen - de Vries [D]*

Norse Revival: Transformations of Germanic Neopaganism - Stefanie von Schnurbein (in the series Studies in Critical Research on Religion which I highly recommend)

Digital Libraries, Dictionaries and the Like

Digitale Bibliotheek voor Nederlandse Letteren [D]*

Digitised Collection of Historic Sources of the WWU in Münster [G, D, OD, OG]*

Oudnederlands Woordenboek [D, OD]*

Ons volksleven : tijdschrift voor taal-, volks- en oudheidkunde. Jaargang 2-12 [D]*

Het Rad - Digitale Bibliotheek voor Germaans Heidendom, Runen, Seidr [D]*

Volkskunde (search results on Delpher) [D]*

Goden van Eigen Bodem - Digitale bibliotheek voor heidens erfgoed van de lage landen [D]*

Godinnen van Nederland en België [D]**!!

Forgotten Gods - Reginheim **

The Rune Poems *

Kronieken van de Westhoek (Flemish Folk History) [D]*

Brabantse Folklore, bulletin van de provinciale dienst voor geschiedkundige en folkloristische opzoekingen [D]*

Project Gutenberg has a wealth of resources about pre-christian Germanic religion*

Mimisbrunnr.info has a wealth of information including starter guides.

Author Recommendations

J.R.W. Sinninghe [D]

John Lindow

Benjamin Thorpe

H.R. Ellis Davidson

The Grimm Brothers

J. Haver [D]

To be continued.

[thiccpersonality]

You've Got My Back (So I've Got Yours)

Richard was excited.

Scratch that, he was beyond excited, he was...what does Alfred say? Ecstatic-exhilarated even.

Why you may ask?

Tonight is the night that Richard John Grayson debuts as Robin, HE a circus freak (in a fond way), gets to be seen with Batman of all people.

Tonight.

Do you know how big of a deal that is? Richard knows how Bruce barely likes to interact with people as a civilian, but Batman, he definitely won't tolerate anyone closing in on his personal space unless he says so. And he's just grateful that such a seemingly intimidating man has kindly decided to take him in, on top of letting him fight crime alongside him...nevermind that he threatened to go off on his own.

"Richard, can you stop moving for one second and put your shorts on?"

Bruce raises an amused brow at his child pouting, the boy huffing in protest of the older using his real name. "I told you to call me Dick! S'what everyone calls me, B!" Richard looks down at the green spandex shorts the other is holding out for him, his tongue poking out in concentration as he lifts each leg and slips them into each leg hole, his lips twitching in amusement when they get stuck at his thighs. "It's stuck, B!"

Richard giggles and starts shimmying as hard as he can. It's no big deal-the shorts getting stuck that is-he's had to deal with this plenty of times getting dressed for his performances in the circus.

Bruce holds tightly onto the pants and tries to hold back his amused smirk as the nine-year-old wiggles around like a worm just to get the shorts on. With a small hum, he catches Dick's attention, giving a small smile to the boy before lifting the child up and shaking him into the stubborn material, his heart feeling oddly light at the innocent sound of childish laughter echoing in the cave. "B-e-ee-e!" Richard clings onto Bruce's shoulders as he's now being held up by only his shorts, the taller having stood up so gravity would do its work and drop the boy down into the clothing. "There, all done."

Bruce lets his smile show when Richard looks at him, the boy's face flushed pink from laughter, though the joy is turned into concern at the younger frowning suddenly.

"Chum? Are you...okay?"

Richard hugs tightly onto Bruce, his chin resting against the man's shoulder as he speaks into his ear. "I-...you'll protect me, right? I've never fought crime before...but I want to do you good, B. I need to do this."

Bruce frowns and rubs the small back gently, "Of course I'd protect you. And we've talked about this before, Dickybird. You don't have to do any-and I mean any of this, do you hear me? I...I just want you to try being a kid after what happened. This lifestyle is a lot to handle, even with petty crimes, like how we're dealing with tonight. And it's a lot of responsibility to put on a child-" he gently draws Richard's head away from his shoulder so he can look the boy in the eyes-"I just want you to be safe. In whatever way that is. You don't need to fight crime to do good by me...you are good enough for me, D."

Richard clenches the Bat-suit in his tiny hands, lowering his head so Bruce hopefully doesn't see his watery eyes.

"But I want-need to do this. Knowing men exist out there like the one who murdered my mom and dad...I can't let them be free! Someone needs to do the tough stuff! So why not me?"

Bruce sighs and ignores the part of his brain where he's telling himself to say no to tonight...he doesn't want the boy to fight crime, not only because of his age, but because of the anger he still holds at the moment. But, if he doesn't teach Richard to fight and defend himself now, there's a high chance that the boy truly will run off...and then who will find him? What things could that person teach Dick instead? 

There's no way that Bruce will sacrifice Richard's innocence any further, especially when he knows what he's doing and how to teach the boy properly himself.

"Okay, it's okay."

Bruce kisses the boy's temple and lowers him to the ground, allowing the other time to cool off while he tries slipping on the child's gloves.

Key word: tries.

After a few minutes of struggling with Richard's gloves, Bruce huffs out a laugh and gently grabs the boy's wrist in his hand. "You're moving around again, Dickybird. Is this excitement or are you nervous again?" Richard finally stops moving his hands around and smiles bashfully at his dad caretaker, "Sorry, B! I think-I think it's both! I know you'll protect me...but what if I'm also not ready yet?" He blinks up at the man, insecurity and worry in his gaze. 

Bruce finally manages to finish slipping Richard's hands into the gloves, holding firmly but gently onto the smaller hand.

"If you aren't ready, then that is perfectly fine, Dicky. You can stay home with Alfred and I can go out alone, there is absolutely no pressure to do this...thing that I do." At Richards dejected look, Bruce sighs softly and grabs the boy's chin gently in his hand so he can tilt the boy's head up. "However, I wouldn't bring you out tonight if I didn't think you could do it, you hear me? If there is something that you can't do, I'll be there to help you-"

Richard's eyes shine with something that Bruce can't describe...gratitude? Trust? No one has ever looked at him like that before, like he's a hero. "If I fall...you will catch me." Richard finishes with a small smile on his lips, his posture loose and relaxed at the older man's words. "Thanks, B." 

Bruce smiles back with a slight nod, his face getting serious as he puts on his mask. "As soon as you put this mask on, you'll become Robin, Batman's partner. Your identity is something precious, so remember to keep it secret unless it's absolutely necessary to reveal it to someone. And above all else, Richard, I'm proud of you no matter what. So, if you ever decide this life isn't for you...I will still support you as your d-" he cuts himself off from that three letter word, what is he doing? He's not even anywhere close to being a father figure to Dick...and he doesn't want to feel like he's trying to replace the child's real father.

"Partner. I'll support you as your partner."

Maybe he cut himself off quick enough for Richard to not hear his slip up? The boy definitely seems distracted enough looking at his gloves...but the look in his eyes as he stares at Bruce causes the older to stiffen up nervously.

Richard blinks once-twice, before giving a large smile and looking at the domino mask in the large hand. Hopping one leg to the next in excitement, "Can you put it on for me, please?!" Bruce relaxes and nods with a small smirk on his lips, attaching the mask securely to the boy's face and stepping back to get a good look at the nine-year-old.

There's something absolutely horrifying about the sight before him, I mean, what kind of man is he to allow a child to fight crime? 

But.

There is also a swell of pride at seeing this small nine-year-old boy ready to fight for justice. Bruce knows that Dick has a lot of anger now...but, he won't give up on him, he'll make sure that he uses that anger for good; he'll teach him how to control that and put it into something productive like boxing or screaming out his frustrations or writing, cause if it's the last thing Bruce does, he won't allow Richard's trauma to make him bitter and cold...not as long as he's under this roof.

Bruce won't have a repeat of himself for this innocent little boy; his boy.

"How do I look, B?"

Bruce snaps out of his thoughts at the innocent question, exhaling out all his nerves, imagining the anxiety and stress as nothing but smoke to expell from his lungs.

"You look ready."

Robin beams up at Batman, following the man to the Batmobile and holding his hand for that extra bit of comfort as they head out into the night.

XXX

Robin remains in the Batmobile, his small hands wringing together nervously as he watches Batman fighting a group of robbers. Luckily it wasn't anything too serious...and it doesn't look like any of the men have guns, but they were still trying to steal someone's car, and Robin doesn't need to tell you the reasons as to why that's a big no-no.

It's...fascinating watching Batman fight, it makes Robin feel as though he's in a dream-a good dream he supposes-that such a man like him would take in one lone circus freak like himself.

Yet.

There's also something terrifying at seeing Batman in action. 

Robin worries that he won't be able to live upto a figure-a man-like Batman is. The only skills he has are tricks he's learned from the circus, and yes, him being lithe helps him with the acrobatics portion of crime fighting, but other than that...he's just a boy in a suit, right?

Robin's eyes widen when seeing one of the thugs sneak up on Batman holding a crowbar, his body moving on autopilot as he shouts for the Batmobile to let him out, sighing in relief when the car listens and opens the roof. "Batman, look out!" Everyone seems to freeze at the sound of his voice, the small group of robbers turning to look at the boy with wide eyes when they see a child in green spandex shorts and a bright yellow cape.

Robin sticks his tongue out in concentration as he fumbles through his belt, ignoring the shaking of his hands as he grabs his very own Birdarang and throws it as hard and precisely as he can, the man with the crowbar raising a curious brow at the small grunt that escapes the young boy when chucking the bird shaped toy. 

The man blinks rapidly, processing the sound of metal clanging to the concrete floor loudly as the weapon fails to reach its intended target and falls to the ground.

The group of criminals look at each other before laughing loudly at Robin, the one attempting to hit Batman in the head pointing at the boy with his crowbar. "That's cute! And who exactly are you supposed to be?" The man looks down and squints at the 'R' symbol printed onto the leotard, snorting loudly and gesturing at his friends to get a look at it. "Look here, fellas. It's R for Retarded."

Robin looks down at the symbol, something he felt proud of earlier that day, but now feels sad and even embarrassed over at these men-criminals-laughing at him.

His eyes water with embarrassed and angry tears, his face growing hot at the men continuing to make fun of him. "I-It's Robin! I'm Batman's partner and you'll respect me as such! So take it back! I'm not retarded!" Robin balls up his fists and tries to stand just a little bit taller when the men look at him again, his posture slumping a bit in defeat when the group of robbers somehow manage to laugh even louder and harder at him.

"You gotta be kiddin' me, Bat's! A kid!? Have you really stooped so low as to have a kid out here askin' Gotham for respect?"

The criminal in front of Batman turns to look at him questioningly, hoping that the vigilante will reassure them that it's all just an elaborate joke, that maybe the Dark Knight of Gotham truly does have a sense of humor.

Instead, what he receives for his harsh words is an icy look from the Bat himself.

It scares him-no, horrifies him to be looked at like this by Batman. I mean, he and the boys have seen the other look upset...but why does Batman look so...so...furious?

"H-Heya, Bat's...I's just joki-"

Batman grips the man in front of him by his greasy shirt, pulling the criminal in until they are face to face, the front of his mask harshly digging into the other's cheek as his deep voice rumbles protectively in the now trembling robber's ear.

"Do I look like I'm in the mood for jokes, Tony?"

The criminal; Tony, swallows nervously at his government name being used. Stuttering and sputtering while shaking his head frantically, "W-W-What!? No! Course not, Bat's! I'd be stupid ta think ya have a sense of humor..." He trails off at the look the other gives him...is there a right answer for that? Tony's thoughts are interrupted at the grip on his shirt getting tighter, a panicked squeak escaping him at his airway being restrained.

"Then why are you laughing at my partner Robin?"

Tony struggles to swallow against the collar of his shirt digging into his throat, the other robbers making a shocked noise at realizing this is in fact not a joke, but that-as usual-Batman is very serious about this situation.

Crowbar man almost drops his weapon in shock, "You mean-" at Batman's venomous glare being turned onto him, he quickly shuts his mouth, hard enough his teeth clack together from the force of it . "Of course! You wouldn't lie to us, B-man!" Batman grunts in agreement and nods towards Robin, "You made my kid very sad with those comments. Tell me. Is he crying?" 

Crowbar man stutters and looks at Tony for help on what to do, the man responding with a kick to the other's leg in panic.

Clearing his throat nervously, CBM takes a peak at the boy, praying to anyone that will listen that Robin won't be crying...because if he is, he and his friends are all-in the eloquent words of his beloved grandma-deep horse shit. (she worked on a farm, okay?)

He almost exhales loudly in relief at seeing the boy just looking extremely embarrassed, upset and sad, luckily not to the point of tears...okay, maybe the child looks like he'll cry, but the point is: he isn't! CBM quickly turns to look at Batman, "No! He's not crying! I admit...he looks a bit upset, but I swear he's not crying! Just...have mercy on us and please, for the love of God and all things holy, let Tony breath!"

Batman looks at Tony and quickly releases the young man's shirt when seeing that the other was turning purple.

He takes a moment to calm himself down and slowly sets Tony back down onto his feet, steadying the light-headed man with a warning grip on his shoulders.

"You three listen to me very closely-" he pauses to add to the air of murderous and angry parent before continuing-"This is Robin's first appearance. He obviously wasn't very confident when coming out here, but he did so anyway because he has a good heart to keep Gotham safe from filth like you. We are starting off with petty crimes and even pettier criminals; no weapons involved. So I don't understand why you have a crowbar-" he turns the glare back onto CBM, holding his hands out for the weapon and gripping onto it when the man hurriedly deposits the metal into his gloved hand. "And I definitely don't understand why any one of you would think picking on a child would be a good choice to make in front of me."

The three young men look at each other before each trying to plead their case, stopping immediately when Batman raises his hand to cut them off.

"Robin...Robin is more than just my partner, he's my child, my son. So, what you three are going to do is continue fighting us; however, when Robin hits one of you, you better act as if it's the worst thing you've felt in this world." Batman holds his glare with the three stooges before releasing them from his paralyzing glare, Tony immediately sending CBM to go 'fight' Robin. "Y-You heard the man! Go on and fight the kid, and for all of our sakes...please make it realistic."

CBM stutters and attempts to protest, but the look Batman is giving him shuts him up and sends him on his way over to Robin, the man pausing when the boy stiffens and settles into a fighting stance.

"B-Be still!"

Robin finds it odd that the man listens to him so easily...but he won't complain about an opening showing itself to him so easily.

His hands tremble as they reach into his belt, grabbing another Birdarang and chucking it as hard as he can at the man, gasping softly as the man shouts in pain and stumbles back from the force of the weapon. Robin pulls out a pair of handcuffs and tightens them onto the dazed criminals wrists just a tad too tightly, the boy stepping back and looking at the man, his eyes wide as he processes the fact that he just took down a thief.

"Oh. My. Gosh..." Robin whispers and looks back and forth between the bound criminal and Batman, the excitement slowly seeping into his body as he shakes with the attempts at suppressing the feelings. However, he's just one small little child and hops up and down while pointing at the now awake robber. "Batman, I did it! I did it! Did'ya see me!? He laughed at me and underestimated me and then he walked over trying to scare me-I was a little scared-BUT, then I 'membered what you taught me and threw my birdarang at him and then he fell down and then I cuffed him!" Robin pants loudly to try and catch his breath, his smile wide and proud while watching Batman walk over with the other two robbers. 

"I saw you. Good job, Robin, I'm proud of you for being brave tonight-" Batman (in his still bitter feelings of Tony and his crew making fun of his child) harshly tosses the two men to the floor next to CBM, nodding his head slightly in approval of their acting-"It seems you'll have their respect in no time if you show them your skills." Robin feels his heart flutter in excitement at the gloved hand ruffling his hair, his smile quickly disappearing when remembering what the man with the crowbar tried to do to Batman.

A loud slap echoes through the surprisingly quiet street, Robin glaring harshly at the now stunned man.

"Robin!"

The boy turns to look up at Batman with a pout on his lips, his gaze unapologetic as he holds the older man's gaze. "What?! I'm not gonna say sorry!"

Batman sighs softly and kneels down to Robin's level, "You...you can't hit the criminals after you've already caught them, understand? We can't abuse our power. And it's not right to hurt someone just because of what they say about you, actions speak louder than their words ever can."

Robin's eyebrows furrow in confusion as to what Bru-Batman means, it taking a second for him to truly remember the man's earlier insults before he looks angry again and turns to kick the bound man in his stomach, sniffling innocently at Batman's scolding tone. "I didn't slap him cause what he said to me...he...he could have hurt you, B. A-And you promised to have my back...so why should I not have yours? You're my dad, so-" he cuts himself off and shrinks under Batman's intense stare. He's messed this up for himself, didn't he? Bruce didn't almost call him son in the cave...Robin probably just imagined it and became too hopeful-vulnerable from the excitement and adrenaline, that he let it slip.

Batman blinks in shock behind his mask before pulling Robin into a hug, shooting a glare over at the three blind mice for their cooing at the cute scene before them.

"No! I mean, you're fine. I think-you-I..." Batman furrows his brows and pauses, taking a moment to breath steadily and gather his thoughts together, his gaze never leaving Robin's uncertain yet hopeful one. "You are my son. I never said anything because I didn't want you to think I was trying to replace your real father...so, don't worry about what you said. I think the same thing about you."

Robin feels himself slump in relief, wrapping Batman-his dad-in a strong hug and hiding his face in the man's neck.

CBM can't stay quiet anymore and loudly aww's at the sight, sniffling at seeing how soft the Bat can be. "I wish I had a dad like you growing up, maybe if I did I would be better off now? You're a lucky kid Robin...and just so you know, you give a mean slap, but I won't hold it against you. You're kind of a cute kid-" at Batman's deadly glare, he corrects himself-"I mean, you are definitely for sure a totally adorable kid."

Tony nods his head, "Yeah. I think your fiery temper has a charm ta it-" he tilts his head in curiosity-"Ya know how to break into cars? We could use a guard dog."

The other lackey elbows Tony for the question and starts apologizing to Batman, "I'm sorry for his behavior! He doesn't know what he's saying-" he elbows Tony harshly in the side again-"You can't ask a freaking kid to commit crimes, Tony-and no, I don't care that you did it when you were younger, we should have standards."

Tony huffs and settles back down, "But why not? B-man over there is allowing him to fight crime."

Robin frowns at their conversation and lifts his head up from Batman's neck, "I threatened to run away and fight crime myself! B didn't want me out tonight, but if he didn't I would have left." CBM's eyes water even more and he sniffles, "You mean to tell me that Batman didn't want to lose you to this world, so he allowed you to fight crime?" Robin tilts his head at the man and pouts, "I think he just doesn't trust me fully yet."

Tony sighs and shakes his head, "Trust is earned anyway. Even with criminals like us, Batman was right when he said that your actions speak louder than words ever could...though words are still nice too, ya know? You gotta back up what you say with actions, and even though you looked kind of scared tonight, ya didn't hesitate to defend the Bat." The man nods in approval and bumps into his men to get their attention, "Seems like B-man found a good partner after all guys."

Robin looks at the group of criminals curiously for their behavior, they aren't exactly what he was expecting. He thought that these men tonight were God awful, irredeemable individuals...but CBM just wants a dad and Tony got into crimes young, so who knows what brought them to this point?

The sound of police sirens causes Robin to hide under Batman's cape with a surprised yelp, he doesn't think he's quite ready to meet the people Batman has worked with for years now.

But luckily enough, Batman notices that too and makes sure to leave the three criminals where they can be seen by the police and slips away into the dark alleyway and to the Batmobile, setting Robin gently down into his seat and turning towards the boy with a small, proud smile when he settles into the driver's seat. "So how does ice cream sound?"

Robin smiles brightly and whoops in excitement, his legs kicking out excitedly as he starts chanting what flavor he's going to get.

XXX

It's a few weeks later and three criminals are playing a game of poker until their game is interrupted by an officer calling out their names. "Tony Esposito Bianchi, Marcus Hamilton and James Irwood! There's some letters for you three."

The three men look up in shock before scrambling towards the officer with grabby hands for the letters, it's rare that the three get any messages from outside, is it family? Marcus opens his first, licking his lips in excitement at the thought of who it could be, his brows furrowing at seeing childish handwriting. "Dear CBM (Crowbar Man), after lots of thought towards my actions during our fight, I'd like to apologize for kicking you in the stomach. Even though you were a jerk, I may have went overboard, and I don't regret slapping you for almost hurting Batman. However, I assumed the worst of you when it turns out you don't have a daddy to teach you goodness...sorry about my temper and-" he pauses to read the multiple crossed out words before settling on the correct one-"assumptions. I hope your stomach and face gets better, Robin."

Something...odd settles in Marcus's chest, something warm, touched and endeared by this odd little boy he made fun of. Though his attention is caught when noticing a little extra something scribbled onto the paper.

"P.S. If you ever need a dad, I think Batman has room for plenty here. P.P.S. dad helped me write this and says he's sorry for saying you were filth...whatever that's about! :)" Marcus looks up at Tony and James with a smile on his lips after reading the letter, the three silently conversing before coming to an agreement. 

"Robin is definitely for sure a totally adorable kid, guys. And we'll make sure Gotham filth never touches him."

(So...Robin adopted three new criminal brothers and most likely (definitely) reformed then just by being adorable, he's truly already a great hero! 😂

As it was implied with Robin writing the apology to them for Bruce, he didn't mean to say they were Gotham filth, the only reason Batman did is because he was mad they hurt his son's feelings XD. Much like Robin, he pondered his actions later and felt bad for saying that to them, because ultimately, he desires for everyone to have a chance at doing good and he just implied with his words they weren't anything (as far as he's concerned).

I was going to title this story as 'Robin's Firsts' and have it be a multi chapter story about each Robin's first night out on patrol as Robin. But...I obviously didn't make it multi chapters, however, if you guys want it that way or even just as a series...I can work on it! But as usual, be patient with my horrid schedule XD.

Also, I wrote Robin hitting Marcus (CBM) because I read everywhere that he was a feisty and angry little boy. So, I decided to add that bit somewhere by having him slap and kick the poor guy XD, and yes, Bruce will have a talk about how Robin needs to control that. I just want to focus on the cute stuff.

If anyone enjoyed this small, simple and silly little story, you are much appreciated! Kudos, bookmarks, comments, silent support and all the more is always appreciated! You all are the greatest, and if you love reading good dad Bruce Wayne as much as I do, well, I literally love you. 😂

You all remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[gatutor]

Dorothy Malone-Zachary Scott "Flaxy Martin" 1949, de Richard L. Bare.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Temptation Chapter 4

Summary: Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants.  So why does this fallen angel tempt him so?  You cannot serve two masters.  Will he choose God, or his heart? Priest!Bucky x curvy!reader Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

Previous chapter Next chapter

Bucky had not seen or heard from Y/N since that confessional night.  He didn’t expect to, but it made him more anxious the longer he didn’t.  Would she actually come try to talk to him?  What would he say?  What would he do?  Why would he suggest that?

”Father Barnes,” Father Richards called out as Bucky was in the courtyard garden reading.

”Yes?” 

“We have a meeting set up with Miss Y/L/N and her estate lawyer tonight at 8 pm”. Bucky’s breath hitched.  “She wants to do the reading of the will here.  Hopefully Constance was quite generous to us,” he said.

”Yes, hopefully,” Bucky smiled politely.  

That night could not have come sooner.  By 7:55 Bucky was positively buzzing.  He heard the tapping of heels in the hallway and immediately stood, Father Richards following his lead.  A man walked in ahead of Y/N in a fancy suit, looking very self-important.  Y/N was looking at the floor as she walked in.  Bucky had to restrain himself from making a noise as he ogled her.  She was wearing black again, this time a low cut, lacy black shift dress that stopped mid thigh.  She had an oversized black suit jacket over it, her bare legs ending with black strappy heels on her feet.  Her pink hair was still pulled up in a scarf like the day he met her, showing off her neck and the gold chain and earrings she wore.  That damn blood red lipstick was on her lips again.  She looked like sin, and he secretly loved it.

”Welcome,” Father Richards greeted them.  “Please sit.”

The lawyer sat and before Y/N could take the other chair she stared at the desk.  “Is this a new desk?”

”Yes,” Bucky piped up, looking at her earnestly.  “The other was faulty, so I got rid of it.”

”Got rid of it?  He took the fire alarm ax to it and hacked it, saying we needed firewood!” Father Richards laughed.  The lawyer chuckled at the absurdity, but Y/N stared at Bucky.  He gave her a slight nod.  She blinked, gave him a dazed nod back and sat down.

”Well, let’s get on with it,” the lawyer started.  “Here is the last will and testament…” he droned on in legal jargon that was all gibberish to Y/N and Bucky.  They kept glancing at each other, a silent conversation seeming to happen between them.  After almost an hour, since Constance had a lot of money to spread out, he said, “Ah, here it is, after all the other charitable donations.  ‘Lastly, I leave a charitable donation of’…” he seemed to double check the number, “‘$2,000,000 to the Brooklyn parish of the New York City Catholic Church’.”  Y/N huffed a laugh, her eyes rolling.  “‘The rest of my estate, the home, the assets, and the sum of $8,887,124.36, will go to my granddaughter, Y/N Y/L/N’.  And that’s it.  Congratulations to all of you,” the lawyer stood, giving the priests and Y/N handshakes.  “Your checks will be sent to you by tomorrow morning, all other assets and the home should be in your name already, Miss Y/L/N.”

”Thank you,” Y/N gave him a nod.

”Let me show you out,” Father Richards led the lawyer out of the office, leaving Y/N and Bucky alone.  Y/N looked everywhere other than at Bucky, contemplating what she had been left with.

”Congratulations,” Bucky said, trying to break the silence.  

“The same to you,” she whispered, sparing him a glance.

”Yes, the parish will get some much needed updates with that amount.  Maybe throw some fun parties,” he tried to keep the conversation going.  Y/N just nodded.  She finally took a deep breath and looked at him.

”Could we talk?” She asked.

”Sure,” Bucky answered a little too quickly.

”Alone?” Y/N pressed.

”Yes,” Bucky said.  “We can go to the back somewhere.”

”Lead the way—“

“Miss Y/L/N, what a great blessing from Constance,” Father Richards returned, making them both jump.  “Thank you for working with us.  I know you’re not fond of us but I hope you won’t be a stranger.”

“Oh, sure, thank you Father,” Y/N gave him a quick handshake and an odd look.

“I’ll uh, show you out,” Bucky offered.

Bucky led her to the front doors.  As she stepped out he said in a low voice, “Come around the back towards the garden.  I can let you in from there.”  Y/N nodded and walked off to the left towards the back.  Bucky walked briskly through the halls towards the back of the church, past the kitchens and the nuns quarters.  Thankfully it was late enough that people weren’t milling about and he was able to get back to his personal area without being seen.  This was dangerous.  He could feel it in his bones.  And yet he kept walking.  He reached the door that connected the garden to the church and wrenched it open for her.  Y/N was already there and thanked him as she stepped in.  He led her down the last corridor that led to his room.  

She realized when she stepped in it was his personal room.  It was small, with a full sized bed, a small desk in one corner and a closet and bathroom on the opposite side.  He also had a bookshelf that was filled with books, some she recognized as books she had recommended to him, which made her smile wistfully.  Y/N could also feel the danger of this situation, but felt it was important to get it done here and now.

”You can have a seat on the bed if you’d like,” Bucky offered.  

”Thank you,” Y/N said quietly, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.  Her dress rode up a bit on her thighs, making Bucky blush and look away, feeling flustered at the fact she was here, on his bed.

”So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?” Bucky pulled the chair at the desk out and sat it in front of her so he could face her.  He kept it a couple of feet away as he sat down.

Y/N breathed deeply.  Bucky tried hard to focus on her face rather than her lace covered cleavage rising as she breathed.  “I need to tell you something.”

Bucky nodded.  This was the moment.  He still had no plan, no idea, for what he would say or do in response.

Y/N blew out a puff of air and laughed at herself then closed her eyes.  “I like you Bucky.”

“I like you, too,” he answered automatically.

“No, I…I really like you,” Y/N opened her eyes.  “In a way that I shouldn’t.”  She shifted on his bed as she looked down again.  “I want…to do things with you that you can’t do.  And because of that, I have to leave.”

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed.  

“I’m leaving,” Y/N glanced at him.  “I’m going to renovate and keep the brownstone as a home base, but I’m going back out to do more travel photography.  I just can’t…” she paused as she looked at him.  “I can’t stay and keep running into you everywhere.  Have these coffee dates that aren’t dates.  Constantly crave something that I can’t have because you won’t choose me, and I don’t want to make you choose!” she rushed out the last part.  “You’ve been a great friend to me, and I have enjoyed these last few months I’ve been here, but I can’t do this anymore.”

She made a move like she was going to lift herself off the bed.  Bucky immediately reacted, moving from off the chair to a kneeling position in front of her, making her legs spread to accommodate him and a gasp fall from her lips. His hands cupped her cheeks like they did a few weeks back and held her there, staring into her eyes.

“Don’t,” he begged.  “Don’t leave…”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open as she watched him.  She loved the sight of him kneeling and begging before her, something she didn’t know she would be interested in but it was lighting that forbidden fire deep within her.  His big blue eyes were pleading with her.  Her face twisted into a look like she was in pain.

“I can’t stay,” she whispered, her eyes looking sad as her head tilted, nuzzling into one of his hands.  

Bucky wasn’t sure who leaned in first.  It didn’t matter.  Next thing either of them knew their lips met.  Bucky had not kissed anyone since he was a teenager, so he had forgotten the euphoric feeling, and now that he got a taste of his forbidden fruit he was insatiable.  Her lips were soft as they moved against his with desperation.  Bucky didn’t know what he was doing and followed his instincts, his hands slipping to the back of her neck to hold her close, then slipping down her back to bring her body flush with his.  Y/N’s arms wound around his neck and he felt like he was melting into her embrace.  Her fingers ran through his hair and as she scratched softly down his scalp he whimpered against her mouth.  Her legs caged his hips against his bed as her hands explored, cupping his jaw and then moving her lips away from his mouth to start kissing his cheek, then down to his neck, one hand holding his neck in place and the other ripping at his Roman collar, popping a button for her lips to gain more access to his throat, then scratching down his chest.  Bucky’s head fell back, his eyes rolling in his head as his hands found her hips then ran down her bare thighs, kneading the plushy skin.  

Bucky’s eyes landed on a cross that was hung on the opposite wall in his room that he had draped Constance’s rosary on.  He had a flash of guilt surge through him that was quickly replaced with pleasure when she sucked on his neck.  He felt like this was a whole new type of worship.  The popular song he’d heard from a few years back flashed through his mind:  “Take me to church.”  The devilish, carnal side of him knew in that moment that he would abandon the cross, abandon his promises and covenants, if it meant that his church was this: this woman, this pleasure, this sweet release.

Y/N’s lips traveled back up to his mouth.  He kissed her hungrily as she opened her mouth and her tongue licked along his bottom lip.  He opened his mouth and she dipped her tongue in, tasting him.  She let out a moan and Bucky chased the sound with his tongue.  He suddenly lifted himself up and pushed Y/N to the bed on her back, one of his knees settling between her legs right at her core, making her shiver in his arms.  He took his turn in kissing and licking down her throat until he reached her chest, burying his face into her cleavage as he smelled and kissed her.  He wanted to suffocate in her.

Y/N’s hips rocked against his knee, searching for the friction she desired.  As her head tilted back her eyes fell on the cross and rosary on his wall and she stiffened.  Bucky froze when he felt her tense up.  He looked up at her and followed her eye line to the cross.

“Stop,” she said, pushing him back by his shoulders.  Bucky immediately got up but stayed close.

“Y/N,” he started.

“This was a mistake,” Y/N muttered as she adjusted her clothes and stood up from the bed.  She grabbed her bag and started walking towards the door.

“No, Y/N wait, please!” Bucky grabbed her arm.  She wrenched it out of his hold.

“NO!  No Bucky.  This is wrong.  I’m sorry,” she paused, stifling a sob behind her hand.  “I’m sorry I tempted you.”

“What?  Y/N you didn’t tempt me.  I’m a grown man who can make my own choices, and I chose to be here, alone, with you, because I wanted to.  You didn’t make me do anything,” Bucky stood in front of her.  “I wanted that.  I want this,” he gestured between the two of them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N cried.

“How could it not matter?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“Because you can’t have us both!” Y/N yelled, pointing towards the cross.  Bucky sighed defeatedly when he glanced at the cross again.  “And I won’t make you choose.”

“I just want you,” Bucky said desperately.

Y/N shook her head as she side-stepped him.  “Goodbye Bucky.”  She took her heels off so she wouldn’t make too much noise walking along the hard floors and opened his door.  “See you when I see you.”

“Y/N,” Bucky whispered but she was already halfway down the hallway, ducking around the corner and back towards the side door he’d let her in earlier.  Bucky broke down in tears for the first time in years as he watched her leave.  He closed his door and sat down beside it as he wept.  Everything he felt was too conflicting.  Devotion pulling him two different ways, the lust he’d been drunk on, the guilt eating him from the inside out, her smell still floating around the room making him aroused but devastated.  He got up and walked over to his bed, her body outline still indented into his comforter.  He fell to his knees where he’d been earlier and laid his head into the indent, his tears wetting the blanket as he breathed deeply, trying to calm the throbbing pain in his cock and his heart.  

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

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Wicked, Wicked | Richard L. Bare | 1973