#WHERES MY BABY BART SIDE RUN HUH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ragingbookdragon · 5 years ago

Text

I Have Too Many Children

Batmom x Batfamily!

A/N: Please ignore the first half of this fic. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, but I can’t bring myself to change it. So enjoy! -Thorne <3

She felt the sun shine through the window, and she groaned lowly. Her arm rose and softly pat around the bed until it encountered him. She rolled over and pressed her backside into his side. His body shifted as he caged around her, one arm under her head, the other around her waist, pulling her up against him. His chin settled on top of her head and she felt his breathing continue evenly, as it had been. After a few moments, she realized she wasn’t going back to sleep and opened her eyes, staring around their bedroom. Their gala outfits lie strewn out over the floor, and the memories of the events that occurred after the bedroom door closed made her body flush. Her eyes moved to the window and she could see the sun in the sky, meaning that it was around eight or nine. She sighed deeply and the arm around her waist tightened; she felt his head move and then his lips brushed the nape of her neck. He spoke lowly, voice still laced with sleep. “Sleep well, Mrs. Wayne?” (Y/N) giggled and shifted her neck.

“That tickles, Mr. Wayne.” She could feel him grin against her skin and after leaving a few lingering kisses, his head moved again, and he buried his face in her hair, inhaling. (Y/N) ran her fingers up the arm around her waist. “You feel alright?” He hummed.

“It’s been a while since we slept in like we have.” She grinned.

“Are you saying you want to start sleeping in more?” He chuckled, and she felt it reverberate through her back.

“I’d like too. But our sons would have other plans.” (Y/N) snorted and nodded.

“We’d sleep in the first morning and they’d bust in all suited up thinking we were dying or something.” They started laughing and then fell silent. His arm around her waist pulled back, and he rested it atop her thigh, his thumb rubbing circles in it.

“How do you feel?” She grinned and turned around, wiggling a hand in his face.

“With my fingers.” He stared at her and deadpanned,

“Really (Y/N)?” She giggled and the sight of it made him chuckle. “In all seriousness though, do you feel alright?” She rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Bruce, rest assured that last night was not my first rodeo.” He snorted and wound his arm around her backside, pulling her flush against him. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and looked up at him; he smirked down at her and spoke huskily.

“Well, want to ride this rodeo again?” She huffed a laugh and spoke sultrily.

“I don’t know…can this cowboy keep up?” He leaned down towards her.

“I think I can.” His lips almost brushed hers when their bedroom door slammed open, hitting the wall. They both jumped and separated at the noise, their heads turning to face their ‘intruder’.

“Umi! Father! I have a request!” They watched as Damian marched across their room and stood at the foot of their bed. (Y/N) looked at Bruce, then back to Damian.

“And that request is?”

“I wish to have a sleepover.” (Y/N) was expecting something big, and she relaxed when it wasn’t.

“Sure. Are you going over? Or are they coming here?”

“He is coming here.”

“He? Is it Jon?” Damian sighed and spoke exasperatedly.

“Well, I do not have any other friends to invite.” Her heart clenched at his carefree comment and she looked to Bruce.

“I don’t have a problem with it. You?” Bruce looked at him.

“Have you asked Clark if he could come over?” Damian nodded and held up his phone, the two of them peered at it.

“Jon said, he said yes.” Bruce nodded.

“Then I don’t see any problem with it.” Damian nodded.

“Thank you, Father.” He turned to (Y/N). “Thank you, Umi.” She smiled and nodded, then he turned around and headed for the door; Bruce called out to him.

“Damian.” He stopped and turned.

“Yes?” Bruce’s face morphed stern, and he spoke austerely.

“I don’t know if I’ll be home tonight. So, if I’m not, you be on your best behavior for your mother. If I get a phone call that you and Jon were acting up, you’ll be grounded for three months. Understood?” Damian peered at him for a moment before nodding.

“I understand Father.” Bruce nodded and they watched Damian close the door behind him. Bruce flopped back down onto the bed, one arm moving to cover his eyes, and he groaned. (Y/N) giggled.

“What’s the matter Bruce?” He was quiet for a moment.

“I just got indirectly cockblocked by our son.” At his confession, (Y/N) threw her head back on her pillow and cackled. Bruce pulled his arm down and glared at her, only serving to make her cackle louder. Bruce caved and laughed with her, and after a few minutes, they went silent. He turned his head and looked at his clock. “I guess we should go ahead and get up.” He moved to crawl out of the bed when a leg flung over his waist, followed by (Y/N) pulling herself into his lap. He looked up at a grinning (Y/N) and his hands automatically went to her knees before running up her thighs and to her hips where they rested and squeezed firmly.

“You know Bruce, they say life’s a rodeo and all you have to do is stay in the saddle.” She flexed her thighs around his hips, and he inhaled sharply; her grin turning wicked as she spoke tauntingly. “C’mon Cowboy. This cowgirl’s in the saddle.” She placed her hands on his chest and felt his muscles, and rolled her hips, watching as his eyes shut and his hands tightened around her waist; she leaned down until her mouth was next to his ear and whispered haughtily, “Giddy-up.”

A Few Hours Later:

By the time Bruce and (Y/N) made it out of bed, the clock read twelve-thirty. They made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Alfred making lunch. He spoke to them as they moved to the table. “Ah, Master Bruce, Ms. (Y/N). I’m glad the two of you have finally decided to join the land of the living.” (Y/N) snorted as she sat in her seat, Bruce taking his.

“Sorry Alfred.” Alfred laid plates in front of them.

“Worry not Ms. (Y/N). I am just glad the two of you are finally up and moving.” They nodded and began eating. “Well, I am going to clean the bedrooms. Place your dishes in the sink when you are finished.” They nodded and watched Alfred leave the kitchen before breaking into laughter.

“Woo, I haven’t heard Alfred be that sassy about us sleeping in, in a long time.” Bruce nodded.

“I’d forgotten what it sounded like.” She agreed and they began eating. After a few minutes, they heard someone coming down the hall, and Tim walked in, laptop in one hand, an empty coffee cup in the other. He placed his coffee cup down and picked up the coffee pot, then, he noticed them.

“Hey mom, dad.” They smiled at him.

“What cup are you on right now Timmy?” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Uh…I don’t know…I lost count.” (Y/N) sighed and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry mom.” She shook her head.

“It’s alright Timmy. Just try and cut back tonight.” He nodded and turned to leave, then twisted back around.

“Would you guys object to Connor and Bart coming over?”

“When?”

“…Later…” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

“Later tonight? Or later sometime this week?” Tim shrugged.

“We haven’t decided yet.” She sighed.

“I guess you can.” He raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t going to tell me not to get into trouble?” (Y/N) looked at him.

“Of all my boys, Tim, you are the least likely to get into trouble.” Tim grinned at her comment and walked out of the kitchen with a pep. She huffed a laugh and looked over at Bruce. “You alright?” He nodded.

“I just remembered that Lucius needed me to sign some documents today. I’m going to need to leave here soon.” She nodded and watched him rise from the table and place his dishes in the sink; he left the kitchen and returned a few minutes later dressed in a suit. He walked over and kissed her, and she watched as he stepped out of the kitchen and to the garage. (Y/N) finished her lunch and washed the dishes for Alfred before leaving to her room to get dressed.

When she finished dressing, (Y/N) made her way around the house, cleaning up where the boys had left their morning messes. She mumbled to herself as she picked up Dick and Tim’s jackets. “I swear I live with slobs.” She heard a chuckle behind her.

“Hey, I keep my room tidy. Thank you very much.” (Y/N) stood up straight and faced the owner of the voice.

“Jay. What are you doing here so early?” He shrugged and moved beside her, pulling her into a hug and placing a kiss on the side of her head.

“I can’t come see my Ma early?” (Y/N) snorted and whacked his arm, pulling away to face him.

“You know what I meant Jay. Usually you’re only at the manor for patrol or if you don’t feel like going back to your apartment.” She paused and tipped her head. “Honestly, last night was a bit of a blur. So, I really don’t remember if you were here when Bruce and I got home.” Jason’s face morphed into disgust and he let go of her.

“I know what that means.” She rolled her eyes and dropped the jackets into his arm.

“You’re grown. Take it in stride Jay.” She began walking to the study. “Go put their jackets in their rooms please, baby.” (Y/N) was about to exit the room when he called out to her.

“Hey Ma.” She paused at the door and turned.

“Yes baby?”

“Can Roy come hang-out?” (Y/N) pointed at the floor.

“At the manor?” He nodded and she shrugged. “I guess. Just don’t empty our liquor cabinets.”

“But Ma, that’s the fun part.” She glared and deadpanned,

“You know what isn’t fun? Replacing thousands of dollars’ worth of liquor because my son and his best friend got bent.” Jason started snickering and she rolled her eyes. “He can stay. But I’m not joking when I tell you, do not empty our liquor cabinet Jason Peter.” He placed a hand across his heart.

“On my honor Ma. We won’t.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” He chuckled as she exited the room.

An hour later, she’d been tidying the boys’ bedrooms, placing clothes in the hampers and making the beds when the door opened. “Hey mom. What’re you doing?” She tossed a pair of jeans behind her head, towards the hamper.

“I am cleaning your room Dickie. Since you seem to be incapable of it.” She heard him snort and he moved beside her, picking up his dirty clothes.

“Sorry mom.” (Y/N) sighed and smiled at him, reaching a hand up and patting his cheek.

“That’s okay baby. I’d rather you be here and have a room to help clean than you be out somewhere else and not be able to help.” Dick dropped the clothes in his hands and pulled her into a hug.

“I love you mom.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him and patted his back.

“I love you too baby.” After a few moments, they pulled away and he picked up the clothes he had dropped and walked over to his hamper. (Y/N) finished pulling the sheets tight on his bed and stood up straight. “Well, I think that other than the clothes, your room is done.” He raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t go through my stuff, did you?” (Y/N) placed a hand to her chest.

“Richard John. The very thought of you thinking that I would go through your things without permission is hurtful. I’ll have you know, I only cleaned what I could see. Meaning, the floor and your bed.” Dick snorted.

“Mom, I was kidding.” She grinned.

“Oh, I know you were. I just thought that maybe you’d feel bad for ‘accusing’ me.” They shared a laugh and she paused. “Well, I’m going to see if Alfred needs help with anything else.” She turned around and spoke as she walked away. “Do not mess up this room that I just cleaned Dick.” He chuckled and called out to stop her.

“Hey mom?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“Yeah Dickie?”

“Can Wally come over?” She glared at him and pointed a finger.

“If that speedster empties my refrigerator again, I’ll bust both your asses, you hear?” Dick laughed and nodded.

“I’ll tell him you said that. So…that’s a yes?” She nodded.

“Sure. I haven’t seen Wally in a while either.”

“Cool.” She smiled once more at him before leaving his room.

A Few Hours Later:

(Y/N) sat at the dinner table across from her youngest and his best friend. “So, Jon, how’s school going?” He looked up from the pizza he was eating and swallowed.

“Oh, its going good Mrs. Wayne. I’m struggling in math a bit though.” She smiled.

“Jon, honey, Mrs. Wayne was my husband’s mother. I am Mrs. (Y/N) or Mama-Wayne to my son’s friends.” Jon thought for a moment.

“I see. Sorry Mrs. (Y/N).” She waved it off.

“No worries sweetheart.” She paused. “Your dad did say it was okay for you to stay tonight, right?” Jon nodded.

“Yes ma’am. I asked mom first, then dad. They both said yes.” (Y/N) nodded and turned her attention to them both.

“You guys are free to do whatever around the manor. If you want to leave, you ask me or Alfred.” She leaned forward, her voice low and commanding. “But you do not leave this manor without telling someone first. Am I understood?” They both nodded and she smiled at them. “Good then yo-” She was cut off by laughter and they all turned to the door to see Connor, Bart, and Tim coming into the kitchen. Damian jumped up and pointed at them.

“What are you three doing?!” Tim glared at him.

“What’s it to you demon-spawn?” Damian glared at him and directed his finger at Connor then Bart.

“Why are you here clone? And you too speedster?” (Y/N) cut Tim off before he could retort.

“Damian Wayne.” Damian’s shoulders went up as if he got caught with a hand in the cookie jar and turned to face her.

“Yes, Umi?” She glowered at him.

“Do you remember what your father said this morning?” He nodded apprehensively and she continued. “I can dial his number right now, if you’d like me to.” He shook his head and she tipped hers to Connor and Bart. Damian looked at him.

“I…apologize for my insults Connor, Bart.” They nodded and (Y/N) spoke.

“I guess you guys chose tonight instead of next week?” Tim rubbed the back of his neck and spoke apologetically.

“Sorry mom.”

“Don’t worry about its baby.” She faced Connor and Bart. “You’re always welcome here boys.” They smiled and she motioned to the table. “Help yourselves.” They sat down and began eating, cracking jokes nonstop.

After a lull in the conversation, the kitchen went silent and the next thing they heard was bottle shatter followed by, ‘The fuck Roy?’. (Y/N) sighed and told the boys to plug their ears.

“Jason Peter Todd! Roy William Harper Jr.! Get in here! Now!” The others uncovered their ears and watched the two young men shuffle into the kitchen with their heads down. (Y/N) glared at them. “Jason Peter. I told you that if Roy was coming over, you were not to get into the liquor cabinets.” Jason pointed to Roy.

“It was all Roy’s fault.” Roy jerked his head up.

“The hell it was! You were the one who wanted to drink too!” The two of them started bickering and (Y/N) cleared her throat, silencing them.

“Both of you go get the mop and the broom and dustpan and clean the mess up. Then come in here for dinner.” They nodded their heads and did as they were told. A few moments later, they returned and sat down; (Y/N) spoke.

“Roy, sweetie, hand me that phone right there beside you.”

“Yes ma’am.” He handed her the phone and the group watched as she placed an order for thirty pizzas. (Y/N) hung up the phone and continued eating, and Tim spoke up.

“Mom…that’s a lot of pizza.” (Y/N) didn’t even look at him as she responded.

“Yeah well…I’m seeing a pattern of my children bringing their best friends over, so that tells me that at some point tonight, Wallace Rudolph West is going to come into my manor and empty my fridge. I need to be prepared for that speedster too.” She glanced over at Bart who flushed and shoved a piece of pizza in his mouth. Connor snorted and spoke.

“Ten bucks he’s here within the next fifteen.” Damian spoke up.

“I raise your ten to fifty and say he is here in five.” Tim followed with Connor.

“One hundred on fifteen.” Eventually, the bet got as high as ‘six-hundred on fifteen and six-fifty on five’ (Y/N) going with her own, saying he’d be here at exactly six P.M. To the boy’s misfortune, at six P.M. on the dot, a flash of bluish-white lighting appeared in the Wayne kitchen. (Y/N) looked at the boys.

“I do believe all seven of you owe me…one-thousand-two-hundred-and-fifty dollars.” They put their heads in their hands and groaned, Jon yelling, ‘I only have fifteen bucks in my piggy bank though!’. (Y/N) turned to Wally. “Wallace Rudolph West, you listen here. I ordered thirty extra pizzas for you all. Do not empty my fridge again.” Wally grinned.

“C’mon Mama-Wayne. You love me.” (Y/N) tried to stay mad, but couldn’t, and grinned as she spoke.

“Yes, I love you all. I do not however, love paying an outrageous shopping bill because my boys have bottomless pits for stomachs, and empty our fridge, cupboards, and pantries.” All the boys in the kitchen flushed and chuckled, and Dick walked into the kitchen, pulling Wally into a hug.

“Wally! Good to see you bud.” Wally hugged him back and they sat at the table.

“Good to see you too Dick.” Everyone flipped open the pizza boxes, and (Y/N) suddenly remembered what it felt like to have a lively kitchen.

After an hour, everyone had migrated to the living room and were watching a movie when (Y/N)’s phone rang. She paused the movie, to the dismay of the others; she rebuked them quickly.

“Boys! Hush!” They went silent and she answered the phone. “Hello?...Hey babe…yeah, everyone’s here…don’t worry, the kitchen’s still intact…is it serious?...yeah…I can go with them to make sure…Bruce, they wont make a mess while you’re gone, I promise…okay, will do…I love you too Bruce…Bye.” (Y/N) hung up the phone and turned to the boys. “Alright, here’s the deal. The JL got called in for a job, so that mean that Bruce won’t be here to patrol. All of you are to patrol a quadrant tonight. Understand?” The boys groaned and she glared at them. “Is there something you boys want to express?” They shook their heads and (Y/N) opened her mouth to speak when Connor cut her off, standing up.

“The light just switched on.” Immediately, the group rose and moved to the cave. (Y/N) started giving instructions.

“Jason, Roy, you boys take South. Dick, Wally, you boys are on West. Damian, Jon, you two are in East. And Tim, Connor, and Bart, you three take North.”

“You did that on purpose didn’t you Mama-Wayne? Wally…West? Oh, I crack myself up.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at Bart’s joke while the others laughed, well, beside Damian, and she spoke.

“Get suited up. I’m going to change.” Jason spoke up confused.

“You’re coming with us Ma?” She nodded as she pulled the curtain and began changing into her suit.

“Your dad wanted me to go around just in case something happens. I’ll go to GCPD and talk to Gordon, then relay info to you guys.” The boys nodded and began suiting up. (Y/N) began mumbling to herself. “Jeez. Did I gain this much weight since I last put this on? My pants are super tight…so is my top.” A few moments later, she came around the curtain, pulling at her collar and stretching out her legs. The boys watched as she moved in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection. “I can’t believe my suit got this tight. Look at me. I can barely move, let alone breath it’s too tight.” Roy stared at her and couldn’t help blurting out.

“Yeah, I’ll say.” (Y/N) turned around to face him, an eyebrow raised, and each of her boys reacted.

“Hey!”

“Aye!”

“Excuse me?!”

“The fuck did you just say about our Ma, Roy?” Roy realized everyone was staring at him and he raised his hands, stammering out an apology with red cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry Mrs. (Y/N). I-I did not mean that.” She snorted.

“Don’t worry about it Roy.” She thought Jason’s head was going to explode.

“Uh, yes worry about it! He just hit on you Ma!” She rolled her eyes and turned to Jason.

“And? It’s not like I’m going to sleep with him.” Their faces turned disgusted save Roy’s, whose face twisted in offense.

“And why not?” (Y/N) smirked and crossed the floor, standing in front of him.

“Roy, I’m a happily married woman who is thoroughly satisfied with her husband.” He peered at her before smirking.

“And if you weren’t happily married nor satisfied with your partner?” Her boys groaned.

“I can’t believe you’re actually having this conversation Roy.” He waved Dick off.

“Answer the question Mrs. Wayne. If you weren’t, what then?” (Y/N) patted his cheek before moving to her bike and mounting it. She turned the key and it revved to life.

“Assuming that I was single and looking for a lover, and on the off chance that a certain Kryptonian was too. I’d find myself sleeping with Clark and not you.” She waved at the boys who were currently trying not to be sick. “Get to your quadrants boys. We have a long night.” And she sped off.

The boys turned to Roy who was pouting. Jason shook his head.

“I can’t believe you just hit on our mom.” Roy eyed him and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m a hot-blooded man, and your mom is hot. What do you expect?”

“Oh, I expect you’re about to get punched in the mouth if you talk about her like that again.” Roy raised his hands in surrender.

“Got it. Shutting up now.”

Somewhere in the middle of a fight:

Bruce looked over at a hysterical Clark. “What are you laughing at?” Clark looked at him and laughed harder before shaking his head.

“It’s nothing.” Bruce narrowed his eyes at him.

“What did you hear in the cave?”

The only response he got was a cackle of laughter.

4K notes · View notes

themusicplayedherlife · 5 years ago

Text

Of Warmth and Growth

pairing: dick grayson x f!reader characters: reader, the team, dick grayson word count: 7.7k+ warnings: angst, self doubt, and boat load of fluff summary: dealing with a broken heart isn’t easy, but your friend megan is hoping to get you out of that fink by inviting you to her holiday party where you meet someone that might help you move on. a/n: there’s a whole story behind this--originally this was started as a requested oneshot, but i couldn’t bring myself to finish it, so i revamped it and wrote a different story that i posted some time ago. fast forward to november, i made it my goal to finish this before the new year, and i was so close, too, but family took priority. there might also be a disconnect, but I really tried smoothing it over, hopefully I did well. anyway, better late than never, though?

Happy Harbour

December 7, 2019

“Sometimes it’s very hard to move on, but once you move on, you’ll realize it was the best decision you’ve ever made. You’ll see.”

You want to laugh bitterly at Megan’s words, but her sympathetic smile and warm gaze are holding you back from doing so. She’s only trying to help, you’re reminded by your conscious as she continues to spew words of healing and bullshit. Utter bullshit.

Your bitterness wins and you say, “I know,” wanting nothing more than for her to shut up.

Her smile turns sheepish and she pats your hand affectionately before excusing herself to get more coffee, or to get away from you. You wouldn’t blame her if it was the latter, you haven’t exactly been good company to keep around since your break up.

Sighing, your eyes trail to the world on the other side of the small cafe’s window. It’s bustling and full of people with shopping bags, all of them preparing for the holidays. It really is a different world outside, you muse. Everything inside the coffee shop is warmer and cozier—quieter compared to the outside. It almost, almost makes you forget about your broken heart that was ripped and stomped on by the person you thought loved and cared for you, things that you still, unfortunately, feel for them.

Your red-haired friend comes back with two styrofoam cups instead of one, and she sets one down in front of you, taking her seat across from you once more. “I got you another earl grey.”

You pick up the warm styrofoam, enjoying the heat against your palm. “Thank you.”

Megan doesn’t say anything for once, instead she watches the world with you, letting only the soft jazz of the cafe to envelop you. You can tell she’s going over something in her mind, she’s never this quiet unless she’s thinking, and that’s—usually—never a good thing, at least not when it pertains to you.

It’s not until you’re halfway done with your drink that she finally speaks, having grown restless with her thinking. She’s looking at you, her eyes narrowed and a little shaky, never really making contact with your own, but still facing your direction. “Sooo, I was thinking,” she drawls, “Conner and I are inviting some of our old friends over for a little get together this weekend and I thought, hey, maybe I can convince my best friend in the whole universe to finally meet my other friends, you know, I want us all to be friends and—“

“You’re rambling.”

“Right; sorry. It’s not going to be a huge thing, just a few of us watching crappy movies and drinking spiked eggnog, maybe play some games or something.” She reaches for your hand holding your drink and finally meets your eyes. “And I really want you to be there. What do you say, huh?”

“Megan,” you start warningly.

She raises a hand as a peace sign. “I know, I know! You said you wanted to keep a low profile this holiday season, but I really want to introduce you. They’re really nice people, a little odd, but so am I and you’re still my friend!”

You purse your lips, mulling over the idea. “Are the girls going to be there?”

“Yes! Well, Karen will be, I’m not sure about Wendy, yet. Should probably ask her tonight.”

Again, you think it over. Not only will you be in a small, confined space with a lot of people (she might have said it wasn’t going to be huge, but you and her have different definitions for small and huge), you’re going to be stuck in a confined space with strangers. It doesn’t sound very pleasing, but then again, you haven’t been very pleasant and there’s no denying that you always dodged her past intents to get you and her friends to hang out, and yet, she’s still here, trying to cheer you up.

You owe it to her.

“Okay, I’ll go.” She immediately squeals. Loudly. Blushing, you look around the cafe, and just as you feared, everyone in the small cafe is looking at you. You sigh, lifting a hand to stop her from over exerting herself—and from embarrassing you any further. “Just don’t expect me to bring anything.”

“That’s fine! That’s fine! As long as you bring yourself, I’m content.”

You’re going to regret it, you just know it.

Happy Harbour

December 14, 2019

You tug at the hem of your outfit, uncomfortable. You could hear the loud laughter of the people inside accompanied by the soft hum of Megan’s holiday playlist. In your hand is a Tupperware full of brigadeiro, a Brazilian dessert your grandma used to make for the holidays before she completely quit eating sweet things (in front of your mom anyway).

Fingers tighten around the container. Maybe you should go... You could always deal with an angry Megan later.

“Are you going to go in or are you just going to stare at the wreath all night?” A deep, amused voice registers in your mind and your body jerks in response, almost making you drop the Tupperware if it weren’t for the steady hand holding you against their strong, chest. “Whoa, there!” he exclaims, warm air fanning over your neck. “You all right?”

He doesn’t allow you to pull away until he steadies you, making sure you’re upright before letting you go. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out. “Thank you.”

He chuckles and you whirl around to meet your assailant and savior—and holy fuck is he gorgeous. They were gorgeous, too, but in that average kind of way. Nothing about them stood out to people, but to you? They were the most beautiful person you had ever seen. But this man in front of you, you had to be stupid not to notice how gorgeous he is. Striking blue eyes peering into you, a mischievous glint in them and matched by the lopsided smirk adorning his face; unruly black locks in waves and falling to one side as he runs his fingers through his hair. There’s something distinctly boyish and alluring about him that it renders you speechless.

“Megan never told me she had such a gorgeous friend,” he suddenly says. Or maybe not so suddenly because you’re sure his mouth had been moving before you allowed yourself to fall under his spell.

Hold on.

Wait a second.

Gorgeous?

Did he really just call you gorgeous, too?

Your throat closes and your eyes widen, hopefully not comically or at all because holy shit. A really gorgeous man just called you gorgeous. The last person to ever compliment was your mom. But she’s your mom. She’s supposed to think you’re pretty good looking. And before that it was them. And realizing it now, they probably never even meant it. So this? This is new and weird and what the fuck are you supposed to say to something like that to someone like him. “I—“

A draft of air hits your back as the door is swung open behind you. The Christmas music that Megan has been preparing since June is louder than before without the door closed.

“You’re here,” she squeals, wrapping her arms from behind you, her chin settling on your shoulder. “I’m so happy you came!” She kisses your cheek messily and something sweet and alcoholic fills your nostrils. “And you brought something!”

“Yeah, yeah! Don’t make it a thing.” You laugh, pulling away as she makes a show of having to let you go. “How much eggnog have you had?”

“Not too much.” Her eyes turn to the other guest and her eyes brighten. “Dick!” Dick? What kind of name is Dick? Was his mom angry at his dad? Noticing your stare, he smiles down at you, amusement never leaving his face before he turns to Megan. “You’re here! Wally and the others are already here.” She moves away from the door to let you both in.

Dick gestures to the inside of her apartment. “After you.”

Blinking owlishly, you thank him and enter the loud apartment full of people you don’t recognize—well, mostly of people you don’t recognize. There’s Karen and Mal by the Christmas tree talking to a redhead and a blonde, who Dick makes his way over to after excusing himself. Wendy is with Marvin by the snack table, the two arguing—really it's Marvin arguing—about which dessert is the best for the holidays, and a few other really gorgeous and fit people. Why are all of her friends ridiculously good looking?

“You okay?” Megan asks, her hand settling on your shoulder and squeezing lightly.

Your head swivels in her direction. “What?”

“You were frowning,” she says softly. “Hey, if I forced you to be here—“

“No,” you interrupt her quickly. “No, I’m glad you invited me, I just—I’ll be okay. I promise. You were right about me having to move on. I can’t avoid society forever because of a broken heart. I just need to get used to… this,” you say, moving your eyes around the party of people that seemed to already be coupled off.

She smiles gently but doesn’t seem all that convinced. “I’m right here if you need me, okay?” She takes the Tupperware from your hands. “Come on, let's say hi to everyone.” When you bristle, as you take off your coat, she laughs. “In moderation.”

An hour into the party and you’ve already become acquainted with mostly everyone at the party. You meet Wally and Artemis, the couple who were with Karen and Mal when you first arrived; Raquel and her baby boy, Amistad. Cassie and Tim; Jaime and Bart; Gar and some really weird guy who keeps glaring at Conner; Kaldur, who looks strangely familiar—and only smiles when you mention it before being pulled away by Megan—and Barbara, who eyes you momentarily before flashing you a warm smile. She’s a little intimidating, if you’re being honest.

There are still a few more people you have yet to meet, but you seriously need a break, and you say as much to Megan.

“You said a little party,” you say accusingly, as if you hadn’t known this was her definition of small.

She laughs, her arm hooked around yours as she pulls you towards the spread of food and drinks. “It is little!” She lets go of you, opens the treats you made and places them between all the others. She then grabs a clean cup to fill it with eggnog before handing it to you. “Here! Conner and I made it, so it might not be… good.”

You take a tentative sip of the thick liquid made out of egg and spices and doused with alcohol and holy fuck do you regret it. “You and Conner made this?” you sputter, the taste of bourbon lingering strongly on your tongue.

She pouts. “The recipe called for a ton of bourbon to counteract the sweetness!”

You pull the cup away and eye the liquid with scrutiny. “Did you put a whole bottle of Bourbon from Costco in here?”

“Yes?” she answers, a little unsure. “Probably. I don’t actually remember.”

Conner comes up from behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. “Enjoying yourselves?”

She tilts her head to kiss him on his cheek continuously and smiles. “Always.”

You avert your gaze.

“It’s good to see you again,” Conner addresses you after they’ve had their fill of small pecks. Honestly, you don’t blame them for being so affectionate and in love. It wasn’t that long ago that the two finally decided to give each other another chance after a falling out that Megan still doesn’t want to talk about. And again, you don’t blame her. You don’t want to talk about the reason why you and your ex broke up either, let alone think about it.

You hum and reluctantly move your gaze back to their interlocked embrace. You manage a smile. “Same to you. Been a while hasn’t it?”

Before he can reply, Gar interrupts with a call of their names. He’s standing near the fireplace with Bart, leaning over something. “Come check this out!”

Megan wiggles out of Conner’s hold and instead grabs his hand to lead him towards the boys. “Don’t go anywhere!”

Conner flashes an exasperated glance at you over his shoulder, which you return, before he wraps his arms around Megan again—the two laughing and joking about who knows what as they close the distance between them and the boys.

Sighing, you take another sip of the eggnog and your face scrunches in response to the liquid coating your tongue. “Bleh.”

“Fell victim to the spiked eggnog, I see,” a voice cuts through your thoughts as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Eyes snap up to meet the familiar, amused gaze of Dick. “Uh, yeah.”

He offers you a different mug and you eye it suspiciously. He chuckles. “It’s just apple cider, I promise.”

You reluctantly relent, taking the mug he offers as he takes the one you had been drinking. You take a sip, and surprisingly enough, it really is apple cider, no alcohol at all. “Oh, god, thank you.”

He flashes you a pearly smile, and takes a sip of the eggnog without grimacing. “So, how did you meet Megan and Conner?”

“Oh, um, from school. We went to the same high school.” He quirks an eyebrow. “I was a year below them, but I became friends with Megan when she joined the cheerleading team. My friendship with Conner just followed naturally after that.”

His eyes brighten, as if what you’re saying is actually interesting. “Really?”

You curl a piece of loose hair behind your ear. “Uh, yeah. What about you? How did you meet them?”

“Oh, through our families,” he supplies, a little detached, as if it weren’t really important. “Most of us met like that.”

You frown, but try to hide it behind the rim of the mug. “Wow. Then you must’ve known Megan for quite some time, then?”

His eyes flicker to your lips and his turn upwards. “Actually, I’ve probably known her for about the same amount of time as you.”

Wait. If that's true…“Does that mean you went to the Halloween disaster of 2016?” You remember Megan telling you she would be inviting her friends to the dance, and you heard that she did. Maybe he was among them?

He snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it?” You nod eagerly, hoping to hear his side of what happened that night.

“No.” You deflate, and he huffs a laugh. “I wasn’t able to go, had plans that night. Did you?”

You pout, the disappointment you felt at missing that night coming to mind. “Unfortunately, no. I was sick, but I heard from Marvin and the others that it was a night to remember.”

You don’t get to ask him more questions because as soon as you open your mouth, the front door opens to reveal a beautiful girl with dark, raven hair in delicate waves and bright blue eyes entering the room. Immediately, everyone (excluding you, Marvin and Wendy—wtf Karen?) recognizes her and greet her with a loud exclaim of her name, “Zatanna!”

Dick turns to you and you already know that he’s about to excuse himself. “Do you mind if—“

You shake your head interrupting him with, “No, no, go ahead.”

Surprisingly, he reaches for your arm and squeezes gently. “I’ll be right back.”

You blink after him and mutter, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Be right back” doesn’t happen. He stays by the pretty girl’s side, the two of them being overly familiar with one another—tight hugs, continuous small touches, long eye contact, leaning against one another. You wouldn’t be surprised if they dated at some point, to be honest; or maybe they are dating—ugh. Why does the thought of it bother you?

“You all right?” Wendy softly asks, her kind eyes full of worry and briefly moving to Karen by the entrance.

What’s that about?

You try to keep from frowning. “I think I just need some fresh air,” you assure her.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll just be out for a moment, besides—“ you flick your eyes to Marvin by the dessert table stuffing his face with walnut bread—“I think you’d better stay to make sure Marvin doesn’t eat all the walnut bread.”

“Oh—damn it, Marvin!” She sighs ready to chastise her boyfriend, but she pauses to look at you. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You hum in agreement and watch as she saunters over to Marvin before turning on your heels and stepping out through the sliding doors leading to the balcony.

The cold winter air bites your skin, your long sleeved turtleneck not enough to combat the cold, but just thinking about going back inside makes you try to suck it up. You cover your mouth with your sleeve as you lean against the railing—Happy Harbor lights glinting brightly in the dark.

Maybe you should leave. You’ve been here a good amount of time to deem acceptable, right? You’ve met some of Megan’s friends and even talked to a few of them for a while, and you didn’t show an ounce of disgruntlement—as far as you know—so you should be good right?

An ache fills your chest, pulsing slowly as you let out a long sigh. God, what happened to you? You weren’t always like this. So closed off and unwilling to spend time with your friends. You’ve practically been unconsciously ignoring Karen and Mal, attaching yourself to Megan when she is alone, or staying with Marvin and Wendy because they act least like a couple compared to your old classmates. And the moment the one person you’ve talked to for an extended period of time at the party joins his pretty friend, you become bitter about it!

You need help.

Something heavy lands on your shoulders and back, strong cologne filling your nostrils and making you jump.

“Woah, easy, it’s just me.”

Startling blue eyes twinkle with mischief and your shoulders drop, heat combatting the cold air. “Anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?”

He just grins and settles in the space beside you, eyes sweeping over the town you grew up in. “My job kind of requires that I do.”

You slip your arms through the sleeves of his coat, ignoring the fact that it’s not exactly your size. It’s warm anyway. “Thank you.” You lean forward, tightening the coat to fit you snuggly. “What kind of job requires you to have ninja like stealth?”

He chuckles, meeting your gaze. “I’m an officer at Bludhaven PD, trying to become detective.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Bludhaven? Really?”

He hums, elbow resting on the railing and cupping his cheek.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Gotham has its norierty, but so does Bludhaven. It was basically untapped, scandals and crimes hidden behind a veil created by corrupt officials, until a couple of years ago when it all came to light with Nightwing’s arrival.

“Yeah,” he drawls, mulling it over, “but what isn’t? Anything can be dangerous if you think about it.” He leans closer to you. “Where do you work?”

“Happy Harbour Times, Opinions.”

“Then you must have to deal with a lot of angry readers when you write about something they don’t agree with, right? Threats and angry phone calls and letters. Those can be dangerous, too, right?” he asks cheekily.

You laugh, ducking your head. “I guess you’re right.” There’s still no comparing writing articles to police work, no matter how light of a situation Dick is trying to make it. “Why police work, though? It’s not many people’s first choice. Especially in Bludhaven.”

He shrugs. “Always been interested, I guess.” He leans back, hands holding onto the railing and causing his blue cable knit sweater to wrap tightly around his arm muscles. “My guardian…” Now, that’s an interesting choice of words. “He was—is a fan of mysteries.” His voice is far off, stuck in his jar of memories. “When he took me in, we’d used to solve cases together, most of them taking place in Gotham, where I was raised.” He chuckles. “And I guess from there I just… I just decided I wanted to be a cop.”

“I see... And you decided not to become a cop in Gotham?”

“Gotham has good people looking out for her already.”

“She could always use more.” He cracks a smile, blue eyes twinkling with the city lights as they find yours, and you return it shyly. “But I get it. Bludhaven has become yours, in a way. Separate from your… guardian.”

“In a way,” he repeats, and you have to look away from or else your heart will stop. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He nudged your shoulder with his. “Happy Harbour Times?”

“Ah.” Your breath comes out in a puff, the night air still growing colder by the hour, but you don’t mind it. Dick doesn’t seem to mind either. “Well, when I was a kid, my third grade teacher told my parents I was a really good writer. So, they got me into workshops and short story competitions,” you recall, remembering the constant competitions your parents would sign you up for without your knowledge sometimes. They did it with good intentions, hoping to help hone your skill, but it was too much sometimes. “Truth is, I hated it. Never really liked… fiction, I guess? Don’t get me wrong, give me a good fiction novel and I will read it for days, but… it… it just wasn’t me,” you confess locking your fingers in place.

“I was about ready to give up on writing when my tenth grade English teacher assigned us a topic to write about and I guess I fell in love with the research and being able to go out and interview people.”

“Yeah? And what was it that you wrote about?”

You bite your lip and find Dick staring at you, a curious glimmer in his eyes. “Don’t laugh?” He promises he won’t. “Robin.”

He chokes on his saliva, eyes growing in disbelief. “As in Batman’s Robin?”

You tuck strands of hair behind your ear, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yeah, um, the prompt was about vigilantes and I chose to write about him instead of the Flash, Batman, Wonder Woman and whoever else everyone wrote about.”

“Why?”

You shrug, trying your best to mask your embarrassment with a blase attitude. “Fighting crime with Batman? That was pretty cool, you know? He was living every kid’s dream.”

“Was he?” he asks, voice soft.

“He was!” you confess, smile blooming on your face as a memory of you and your friends playing as the superhero sidekicks comes to mind. It’s some of your best memories from elementary school. “But I didn’t want to just write about the good. He was a kid seeing some fucked up shit, after all.” You pause to look at him, only to find he’s not looking at you, but at the city lights. There’s something… wistful and forlorn in those blue eyes of his, and you wonder if he’s thinking back on his time in Gotham, seeing Boy Wonder up close and personal. “Being Robin must’ve taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically.

“And I wanted to write about that. Even had my parents drive up to Gotham for the weekend so I could do some snooping, maybe even find Boy Wonder myself.”

Finally he reacts, lips twitching as he turns to look at you. “And how’d that go?”

“I learned that the citizens of Gotham really hate being asked questions.” He chuckles and you smile. “But those who did answer... you can tell they were grateful for him and worried about him. The kid really touched people’s hearts, whether they agreed with his nightly activities with Batman or not.” You tilt your head, watching his eyes light up with your words. “It’s just a shame I didn’t get to interview Robin himself.” You grab hold of the railing and lean forward. “But I’d doubt he’d have given me the time of day if I had gotten the chance to ask him. Probably too busy saving babies and punching villains with Batman.”

“I’m sure he would have made time for you.” Your fingers slip from the metal to turn to look at him, unsure of his sincerity. “How could he not?” His cheeks have become flushed with the cold, nose bright and blue eyes stark against his skin.

You smile, but you’re sure it looks more like an awkward grimace. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” He frowns, sincere eyes knocking your breath away. “I know if he knew someone as sincere as you wanted to ask him some questions for their article, he would have dropped whatever he was doing to help you.”

You don’t know why you stand there, waiting for him to laugh in your face and say his punchline. You don’t know why he just stands there and stares back at you, quiet and shining with sincerity that he’s trying to penetrate into your being. It’s weird and totally unnecessary, but maybe a part of you is desperate to know if he’s really being sincere and a part of him is desperate for you to know he is.

“Hey!” Megan’s voice break through the trance you’re both in. Her head barely poking out into the cold and green eyes narrowing. “Get in here before you both catch something!”

Dick chuckles, attention moving from her to you. “Should we head in?”

You nod mutely, smiling tight lipped.

As you follow Megan inside, the only thing on your mind is that you might have already caught something.

Bludhaven

December 15, 2020

“You’re really not coming home for the Holidays this year?”

Megan is pouting on your computer screen, but you hardly pay her any attention. You have an article on Bludhaven’s growing homelessness due in the morning and you still have some revisions to do. Your little mishap earlier today took time that you were reserving for this article and now you’re running behind.

“‘Fraid not,” you tell her, your voice accompanied by the clicking of your keyboard. “I’ve been overloaded with a ridiculous amount of work this month and I need to get it done before the end of the year.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see her scavenging through boxes of decorations. “Won’t your mom be disappointed you won’t be coming home?”

“Nope,” you pop the “p” as you rewrite a fragment. “She’s coming down to see me instead.”

She stops, head lifting like a prairie dog on alert. “So it’s just going to be you two this year?”

“Maybe. Dick said he might stop by, but he’s not sure.”

“Ooh,” her teasing rings through your quiet bedroom and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like that, Megan.” You wished it were like that, but it’s not, and maybe it’s for the best. Dick became one of your good friends since the party last year and one of your best friends after you volunteered for a transfer to Bludhaven’s Times earlier this year. You don’t want to mess with what you have, not right now when your life feels perfectly balanced.

“Don't let the person who didn't love you keep you from the person who will,” she says, sounding serious as hell and making you snort and pause in your typing. “Hey! Don’t laugh at my words of wisdom!”

“This has nothing to do with them, Megan. When I said I was finally over them, I meant it.” The moment you were able to look at an old tagged picture of you and them on their friends’ Instagram and you felt nothing, no numbness, no anger nor sadness, just a strange vagueness as if they were a stranger, you knew you were over them. “Dick and I… we like where we are.”

“Boo.”

Conner appear on screen and shakes his head as he wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t listen to her. I respect your decision.”

She rolls her eyes, playfully pushing his head out of the screen. “I respect your decision too, doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“Heckling does not equate respect, babe.”

You laugh at their antics, their displays of affections no longer bothering you. Now, when you see them you just feel happy, happy for them and for you. Bitterness long gone from your bones, and there’s one person you can thank for that.

Your phone on your desk dings.

Dick 🥳🤩: Chinese food 2nite?

You: only if you promise to get extra egg rolls

Dick 🥳🤩: Got’chu, omw.

“You’re smiling! Why are you smiling? It’s Dick, isn’t it? It’s totally Dick.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your face neutral but knowing you’re doing horribly at it. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait, is he coming over?” She gushes, and Conner is back on screen, trying to wrestle the phone out of her grip.

You laugh when you hear a curse from Conner. “I have an article to finish, Megan.”

“You can’t just leave me hanging like this—“

All right, you’ve had enough. “Bye, Megan!”

Megan🧡: 😨 You hung up on me?

Megan🧡: 😡😡

Megan🧡: Expecting deets tomorrow ❤️

You: goodnight, megan!

It doesn’t take long for Dick to arrive and for you to shove your article aside—you’re almost done with it anyway, nothing wrong with a little break.

The door jingles and as you begin to clear your coffee table—where you and Dick usually eat dinner—of your paperwork, it opens to reveal Dick still wearing his uniform. You smile up at him briefly, gathering everything and taking it over to your round, small dining table that could probably fit four people if you really tried to squeeze them in. “Hey! Let me just grab some plates and we can—“

Before you can finish your sentence, or head into the kitchen, a hand wraps around your wrist, worried crystallized blue eyes staring into you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were almost mugged?”

Ah, hell.

The crack in his voice makes your heart drop to your stomach and your eyes fall down to his ugly black shoes that you make fun of every chance you get just to hear his laugh. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Which isn’t a lie. Since you moved to Bludhaven, Dick has been checking up on you more often and even picking you up from work if he has the chance—“Bludhaven isn’t like Happy Harbor. It’s… tougher and harder,” he had said after offering to teach you some self defense moves. You had laughed and said you could handle yourself, but accepted it anyway if it meant spending more time with him.

Today was just bad luck, he was on the other side of the city and you had chosen to take the bus to work that day and hadn’t been paying attention. Next thing you know, you’re being threatened to give your purse up.

His warm fingers leave your wrist and instead they find your chin. Gingerly, he lifts your head to force you to meet his gaze. “When Rohrbach called me on my way here to check up on you because she was worried, I swear my heart almost stopped.” His eyes shine with worry and there’s a twisting in your gut. “What if Louie hadn’t been nearby, huh?”

“I’m okay, Dick,” you reassure him, wanting nothing more than to lean against him, maybe have his lips press a kiss on your forehead. “I handled him pretty well. Used those self defense moves you taught me.” It was why you were able to shake him off and run to the nearest officer for help. Dick inadvertently saved you.

He finally smiles. “Yeah, Rohrbach said you left him pretty bruised up.” His hand under your chin moves to smooth out your hair before cupping the back of your head and pressing you against him. “I need you to be more careful, sweetheart. Need you to be safe.”

Your heart bursts in your chest at the pet-name and you wrap your arms around his waist, fisting the jacket of his uniform tightly. His cologne makes you dizzy—ginger and spices for the holiday. “Only if you promise to stay safe, too.”

“I’ll do my best.” His soft lips land on your forehead briefly before he’s pulling away and you restrain yourself from chasing after him. “Let’s eat? You must be starving.”

“A little,” you admit, and let him pull you toward the couch. “Eating out of the cartons today?”

He flashes you a grin. “Why not?”

As you both settle next to each other on the floor, back being supported by your old couch and you turn on your television as he pulls out the food he bought, you can’t help but think that even if your relationship stay like this with Dick, you wouldn’t mind it.

Bludhaven

December 31, 2020

You check your watch for the umptenth time.

He’s late.

Everyone around you is celebrating, filling the bar with laughter and talk, most of it incoherent over the loud music and the inebriated state most of them are in. You’re only a few hours away from the New Year and people are already drunk out of their minds—this doesn’t spell trouble for the night whatsoever.

Dick 🥳🤩 (7)

7 outgoing calls, all unanswered and completely unlike him. Sure, sometimes he doesn’t answer your calls when he’s busy, that’s a given, but he always sends you a message if he’s going to be late or apologizes for not being able to answer your call. This just not like Dick.

You try calling one more time, covering one ear with your palm to hear the ringing, but just like before, you get sent to voicemail. Worry begins to over take your annoyance. You grab your bag and quickly make your way out of the crowded bar, not caring about the warm bodies complaining.

Driving to his place takes you about thirty minutes with traffic, and you occasionally find yourself cursing at other drivers and yourself. It’s a miracle you don’t get into an accident or pulled over. With his garage key that he gave you, you open the gate and make your way to the space that has become yours over the last couple of months with how much you visit him.

Locking your car with a simple click of the key fob, you power walk to the elevator. One last time, you try calling him, hoping he’ll answer and apologize for being late, but once again it sends you to voicemail just as the elevator doors open on his floor.

“Please be okay,” you whisper to yourself.

Taking out your copy of the key, you slowly insert it and tentatively call out to him as you open the door.

No answer.

You strain your hearing as you swear you hear some shuffling and thumping, but that noise could just be coming from down the hall. He does have some noisy neighbors.

You enter the apartment and close the door behind you. “Dick?”

There’s a crash and you jump, your heart in your throat, but the familiar string of curses eases your fear. You follow the noise and come face to face with a wide eyed Dick shirtless covered in nasty forming bruises in the middle of his bathroom.

A whimper escapes your lips and you rush forward, cupping his face in your hand. “What the hell happened to you? I thought you managed to get the night off?” You turn his head this way and that, and then push him back by grabbing his shoulder to look at his torso and back. Only letting go when he winces at a particularly hard tug. “Oh shit! I’m sorry!”

He grabs your wrists not allowing you to give him space. “You’re not blushing,” he says cheekily, his eyes twinkling even with the slowly forming bruise.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why would I be—“ Your eyes drag down to his naked torso peppered with old wounds and spanking brand new bruises and you immediately feel a wave of heat spreading through your body. “Oh.”

He laughs softly, chuckling almost, low and a sweet timbre.

But when your eyes fall lower, you’re doused in cold water, black, almost skin tight material—unitard?—and a black holster wrapped around his right leg greeting you. This isn’t his police uniform! What is he wearing? And why does it look like kevlar? “Why are you—“

You’re not allowed a moment to ask because Dick pulls you towards him with a tug of your wrists and you fall against his chest, barely bracing yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, large hands flat against your back.

“Dick?”

“I’m okay,” he murmurs airily into your hair and you don’t know what to do, you’re pretty sure he can feel and hear your pacing heart.

You repeat his name, trying to pull away from him to look into his eyes. He doesn’t let you.

He inhales. “Just give me a moment and I’ll answer any questions you might have.”

You sigh, warm air brushing against his bare skin, and the hands that braced yourself on the kitchen sink wrap around his torso loosely. “What happened?”

Circles are traced on your shirt, one hand climbing higher to cradle the back of your head. “Remember the guy who tried to rob you?” You nod and hum, remembering that crooked nosed, pale skin idiot who thought you’d be an easy target. “He escaped during transfer today with the help of some of his friends, and I went after them. Off record.”

You pull away from him and look up at him with wide eyes and slack jaw to find his serious gaze on you, lips pulled down into a thin line. “What do you mean off record?” Your throat closes and the back of your nose stings—he went after them ‘cause that man tried hurting you? “Dick, what if something happened—”

His eyes bore into you and his thumb find purchase on your face, tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “It's just a couple of scratches and bruises. I’m okay. I promise.”

You blink back your tears and lean into his touch. “You still shouldn’t have gone by yourself!”

“I didn’t,” he says softly. “I went with a friend.”

Your nose scrunches, your eyes still watery. “Rohrbach?”

He shakes his head. “No. Better, Robin.”

“Robin?” You try to remember if he’s ever mentioned anyone named Robin at the precinct, but you’re pretty sure he hasn’t—“Wait. Robin? As in Batman’s Robin?” His gaze doesn’t change, it remains serious and your heart leaps in your chest. “You really know Robin?”

He finally cracks a smile and you’re half expecting him to say he’s joking (you don’t know which is worse, him joking about knowing Robin when he’s aware how much admiration teen you had for him or finding out that he really went after that thug and his friends on his own!), but instead he answers with a simple, “Yeah.”

“Dick, if you’re—“

He chuckles, his thumb that had been tracing your cheekbone dragging down to your bottom lip, slowly tracing the swell. You would have melted if there weren’t more pressing matters at hand. “I’m not playing with you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fall to his torso and down to his pants and the hanging arms of his unitard and they snap back up, alarmed. “Are you—does this mean you’re also a—“ you can’t even form a proper sentence, the rushing of your blood flowing through your head and ears drown out your thoughts and voice.

His hands drop from your frame and you take a step back as he adjusts the unitard, slipping into it only to have you gasping at the familiar symbol on his chest—Nightwing.

Without waiting for his permission, your fingers trace the symbol, the material under your fingers soft and somehow firm. A deep ache blooms in your chest, your nose wrinkling and Dick reacts quickly, cupping your face with his now covered hands, and you’d laugh any other time at the fact that his suit is falling forward and down his arms, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself from crying.

It all makes sense now! His double shifts and all the injuries—gods. How could you have been so blind?

He rubs the corner of your eyes and coos gently, worry swimming in his eyes and honestly, that’s not fair! You’re the only one allowed to be worried right now! “Hey, hey, why are you crying, huh? What’s wrong?”

Your head falls forward and Dick leans down to press his forehead against yours. “This isn’t going to make me worry less about you, Dick.” Your fingers wrap around his thick forearms. “You promised you were going to try staying safe and this,” you pause to sigh, refusing to meet his eyes, ”this isn’t going to keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the space between you. “I’m sorry I’m going to make you worry. I’m sorry I’m making you cry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you say with a sniffle, because it doesn’t. You don’t care that he didn’t tell you he was Nightwing or that he allowed you to gush about Robin when he’s always known who that is. What matters is that now you know Dick is out every night as Nightwing risking his life and you’re not happy about that. That’s what matters.

“But I won’t break my promise.” You squeeze his arm. “I promised you I would try, and ever since that night, I’ve done my best to keep to that, and I always will.” His nose bumps against yours, trying to get you to look at you and you do, suddenly aware of the lack of space between you. “I have someone to come home to now.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and your heart pounds against your rib cage. You’re no longer okay being just friends with Dick, not when he says things like that and when he’s looking at you like this either—like you’re the only thing that matters and all he wants is to keep you trapped in his arms (you wouldn’t fight him if he tried).

Before you can voice anything, coherent or incoherent, your mouth is sealed shut by a paid of chapped lips. It’s a small peck, but it’s enough to send a tumble of acrobats into a frenzy. And all you want is to feel his lips against yours again, and so you meet him halfway after a shallow collection of breath.

Lips move in tandem, heads tilting this way and that and it’s all very much like the passionate romcom movie kisses you’ve seen over the years, the kind you’d dream about every time Dick would kiss different parts of your face and never your lips. It’s all fire and sweetness, like fireworks on a hot summers’ day and watermelon juice dripping down your chin.

A loud boom echoes in the quiet night and you jerk away from Dick, eyes snapping to his bedroom entrance, the windows covered with blinds allowing the bright flashes of light to filter in.

“Did we miss the countdown?” you find yourself asking dumbly, a little breathless and mind still reeling from his intense kiss.

He presses another one to your temple, chuckling. “Does it matter?”

“It’s the New Year!”

“Could really care less,” he grumbles, voice coming from deep in his chest as his lips dragging from the corner of your eyes to your lips, pulling you away from the firework show outside. “Too busy trying to make out with my gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” you tease in between kisses.

“Mhmm, have been trying to make her mine for a couple of months now, but she’s pretty clueless. ‘S supposed to be one of the best reporters in all of the tri state area, too.”

“Should’ve said something, Dick. I’m not a mind reader.”

He chuckles, pulling away from your lips for just a moment. “There’s something else you should know.”

“What?” you ask, a little hazily.

“I was Robin.”

And before you can ask him to elaborate on that or you’re allowed to be embarrassed, he closes the distance between you once more and kisses you senseless.

To think you thought you’d regret going to Megan’s a little over a year ago; if only the you from then could see you now, happy and moved on.

#dick grayson x reader #richard dick grayson x reader #robin x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #reader insert #young justice #titans #fanfic #young justice fic #titans fic

211 notes · View notes

secondgenerationnerd · 4 years ago

Note

I wanted to say how amazing your writing is. You really have a talent for it. And I wanted to thank you for writing all of the little drabbles and hcs that you do. They really make my day.

If it isn’t too much trouble, could I request a little piece with Mel and Donny reacting to Bart taking his first steps? (Bonus points if he goes straight from crawling to running, in true speedster fashion 😂).

Once again, thank you for all that you do for the DC fandom. I hope you enjoy your night! ❤️

Had to go cry in a corner real fast.

These comments really make my whole day and I love them so much! Thank you for reading my stuff and sending in requests ❤️❤️❤️

—————

“Easy, bud!” Donny laughs as Bart crawls between his legs, babbling up a storm, “Last thing Daddy wants is a Mommy ass kicking fro dropping something on you.”

“I wouldn’t kick your ass.” Mel winks at her husband, “Wouldn’t be able to reach the couch from bed.”

“Mommy’s mean, bud.” Donny laughs, putting the dishes in the sink. Holding onto the couch, the almost one year old pulls himself up right. Mel smiles softly, getting more and more used to it the past few days.

“Barty? Where’s Daddy? Huh? Where’s your silly daddy?”

“Da!” Bart flings a hand in Donny’s direction.

“You go give Daddy kisses?”

Donny looks over, expecting to see his son drop onto his diapered butt before crawling. Instead, letting go of the couch and not hesitating in the least bit, Bart toddles to him. Too fast to be a walk, even by speedster standards.

“Donny!”

“I see it!” Face splitting from his smile, Donny kneels down. Ready to catch his son.

Bart runs as fast as he can, arms stretched up wide for Donny.

If only he’d paid attention to the fridge.

Running too fast, Bart misses Donny and smacks right into the fridge. As his wails fill the apartment, Donny’s scooping him up and Mel’s at their side in an instant.

“It’s okay, baby!” Mel promises, kissing Bart’s auburn hair. “You did amazing! So proud of my big boy.”

“Ooh it’s okay,” Donny rubs Bart’s back, “Daddy’s got you. Mommy and Daddy can teach you how to slow down.”

“He’s walking.” Mel murmurs, still covering the child with kisses.

“He’s running.” Dont snorts. “We’re screwed.”

#meloni thawne #mel x donny #donny allen #bart allen #baby bart

9 notes · View notes

miss-choco-chips · 5 years ago

Text

Put a ring on it

I’m not sure what this is, everyone. Had it on my docs for a while, got bored during work and thought ‘what if I just post this?’, and here we are. Basically the Core Four being loving and caring (and spiteful).

Shout out to @animemangasoul who pumped me up about this and @the-quiet-carrotcake and @iphoenixrising for letting me cry to them the Titans loving Tim.

Can be read as either ship or friendship

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

When shit went down, Wally and Roy made sure they were nowhere near the planet. A nice little interplanetary fuckery called for anyone free, and both of them had magically clean schedules, so off they went, praying to every god they knew about (and, with how many holy disasters they had faced between them, there were a lot) to be back after the worst of the mess had blown over.

Even if it meant missing the undoubtedly hilarious face Batman would make when he found out. Not even the chance of witnessing that was worth staying and waiting with bated breath until someone pointed out that, in the end, it was both their faults.

-So let me get this straight.

-Difficult for me, but go on.

Wally rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at his little dude, wondering how Nightwing could do this with not one, not two, but three badly adjusted little brothers (and that without counting the girls, though, to be honest, they already had Babs). Truly, a hero of the ages. Arsenal just cackled from his place in front of the coffee table, where he was keeping them company and cleaning his equipment.

-I’m serious. I’ve never seen you this mad without a bad guy to blame for it.

-Well…

-As furious as you are at them, Bart, they are still the good guys.

-Debatable.

Wally threw another pillow, and Bart, arms crossed and all but vibrating on the couch, didn’t even bother on dodging. Just moved his particles quick enough that the thing went straight through him.

Arsenal raised an eyebrow at them- It’s scary when you do that. Like a freaking ghost.

-It’s scary that Tim’s whole family can be this level of neglectful, but you don’t see me bitching at them.

-Only because you know they’ll give you your ass back to you in a silver platter after they are done whooping it -interjected the older speedster, snack bag on his lap, a few more by the ground at his feet, sitting as close to Bart as the whole ‘don’t touch, I bite’ aura he had around him would allow.

-Kinky.

This time, Wally’s pillow was aimed at the archer. Roy just dodged without looking, still cross legged on the other side of the little table facing the couch.

-Real talk now, it’s not like they are jerks on purpose. We all know the Bats are on a whole new level of ‘always busy’, it’s to be expected they wouldn’t have time for social niceties.

Wally winced, scooting a little further away from Bart when he looked up to glare at Roy. That wasn’t a nice look. That was a ‘I can take you to someplace no one would hear you scream in less than ten seconds’ look.

-My seventeen year old best friend managed to finish high school after having to take a year off to go look for his missing mentor, going through several different mourning processes and dodging a frankly creepy cradle robber of a ninja terrorist, all while kicking ass and taking names, taking care of a huge as hell company, and keeping up the intel guy work for the rest of his shitty family. And he still graduated early. The least they could do after the fuckery he was put through by their collective stupidity would be go as moral support, but no. No, other things are more important than such a big milestone on his life. Fuckers.

Wound down after the rant, Bart dropped back on the couch, shrinking in place, oozing contempt from every pore.

Roy raised his eyes to share a look with Wally. Even if the bro code meant they were contractually obligated to defend their respective best friends, there was undeniable truth to Bart’s statement. Jason had gone on killing sprees for far less than Tim’s situation, and God knows Dick would have showed a big middle finger at his mentor and go off world with the Titans as a protest at the slightest fight. All in all, Red Robin was taking it like a champ.

-Jason’s busy with the Torinelli drug cartel thingie -tried Roy nonetheless, loyal as one could be.

Wally nodded- And Dick had already promised Damian to go on a camping-training trip that weekend...

-Great. So criminals that aren’t going anywhere and the ‘favorite’ demon child are more important than my best friend’s graduation, which isn’t even a long thing, just a couple hours and a few photos. Awesome. Do you happen to know Batman’s excuse? I mean, I’m sure is equally as shitty as his sons’ excuses, but, you know. Variety and stuff.

Wally sighed, because yeah, point. Were it Bart’s graduation, nothing short of the end of the world would have kept him from going, but, again, he only had one little dude to worry about. Dick’s house was full.

-You’ll be there -tried Roy, dropping his arrow back on the table and resting his crossed arms next to it, leaning forward to look straight at Bart-, you and the rest of the brats, right? Supes and Diana’s babies. You guys may not be related like that, but that’s not necessary for you to be family.

Like the Teen Titans were, went unsaid- the older heroes exchanged a glance, reminiscent of their days fighting side by side under Dick’s unwavering leadership. No matter where they were now, that’s where they both came from.

-Yeah -accepted Bart, but the frown hadn’t left his face-. It’s just. His parents are dead, his ‘foster’ bat-family are dicks. He has us, yeah, but… I wished he could have his family there, you know. Like, if I could adopt him, I would, just so he can have that.

Wally dropped the empty snack bag onto the ground and took a new one, tipping it in Bart’s direction as a peace offering- I mean, it’s still a month away, maybe one of them would clear his schedule and go? Probably not all of them, but anything’s better than nothing, right?

Bart harrumphed, hunching even lower in the couch, pout still present.

-If anything else fails -joked Roy, going back to cleaning his stuff-, I hear Kara’s single right now, and Tim’s an emancipated minor. Get them to marry each other, and then your Super friend is technically his brother- or something like that. Political families still counts.

Bart went still for a second, and if Wally were less invested in his snack and more on the thoughtful expression on his face, he might have known ahead of time that his next words were a bad, bad idea.

-And if she’s not on board, you could always ask someone else on your team. Team as family and all that shit, Tim would literally be marrying into the fam. Want some chips?

But Bart was already gone.

-Huh? -blinked Roy- Where'd he run to?

-...

-...You don't think he…

-What? No. No, of course not, they aren't so dumb...

For a horrible second, Roy and Wally crossed eyes again, both remembering the stupid shit they got up to when they were seventeen, and replayed the conversation. Their jokes, that anyone with half a brain would take as that, as silliness. Then came the thought that being stupid was almost a requirement for being a Titan.

With the kind of synchronicity one could only have after fighting side by side for years, they both jumped to their feet at the same time.

-I’ll hit Kori up, maybe she has some alien fuckery to deal with and we can tag along.

-Imma call Supes and let him know we’ll be off planet for a while. Shit, Dick’s gonna flip. He was the big B for a while, he knows stuff. Painful stuff.

-Dude, he at least doesn’t kill. Jay has guns, and it’s his favorite brother we’re talking about.

A shiver went through them when Batman’s reaction came to mind.

-If Kori’s not dealing with something, I’ll ask her to start shit up somewhere far, far away to give us an excuse to leave either way. She’s a goddess like that, she’ll help.

-Good thinking. I’ll start packing.

---.----

The secret meeting was held at one of Tim’s safe houses, because it had enough lead on the walls there was no risk of Superman overhearing them. Not that the owner of the place was aware of it; no one was, besides Cassie, Kon and Bart themselves. Keeping it hush hush was vital for the success of the mission.

-All on board then?

Kon’s smile could light up a town- Hell yeah dude. I’ll take care of getting Tim time off from work. Tam knows me and I’m fairly sure she doesn’t hate me as strongly as she does the bats. Fair warning though, she might ask to come with.

-She’s cool, so I’m in. We’re gonna need a witness anyway.

Cassie nodded, fierce smirk and challenge in her eyes- This is gonna piss so many people. Hey, do you think if we let Oracle in the know she’ll give us footage of the bats' faces when they find out?

Bart bit his lip- As crash as that would be, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.

Cassie deflated, but then shrugged it off- We’ll ask Tim, then. He’s as good as her with hacking, I’m sure he’ll figure something out.

-If he doesn’t kill us first, you mean.

-Don’t be a coward, Kon. I thought you were in.

-I’m not saying I’m backing down, just that we should put our business in order in case he snaps and murders us in cold blood. I know he has it in him, if pushed the right ways.

She nodded, because point. The almost feral look on her face wasn’t gone, though- Worth it. I'll be in charge of clothes. You reckon there's any chance I can get a dress on him?

-Sure, if you want him to actually break his no kill rule.

-Fine, but he's wearing white anyway. It goes well with his skin tone.

Bart extended his first for her to bump- Now you're talking. I'll be the extraction man and take him to the place.

Kon crossed his arms, looking conflicted for the first time- We can't go the classic way about it, because a fake name would mean he won't take seriously what we're trying to do, and if we use his real one in a formal document, it'll hit the news before the ink has a chance to dry. And then he'll kill us for sure.

-You're awfully worried about him drawing blood, Blue. What gives?

-He's scared shitless of Cassie and you're too adorable to hurt, but me? I'm the one he's gonna focus his rage on, and you know how he gets when at his limit.

Cassie snorts- He can't live without you, you dork. I think we are all safe. And anyways, the plan is to make him too drunk to walk on a straight line, he wouldn't be able to hurt us.

-You say that -interjected Bart, getting up from where he was crouching above their carefully spread, color coded sheets of plans; Tim would be so proud- but I've seen the dude drop kick someone with a broken leg once. He can fuck shit up no matter the situation.

-True… still, we are doing it, right?

-Oh yeah, for sure, I just wanted everyone aware that it might be our last big bang.

-Then we better make sure it's one hell of an explosion, am I right?

-Hell yeah.

-This is gonna be so crash!

----.----

The entire thing had gone something like this.

On friday, Tam made Tim turn around and head back home the second he showed his face at the office, claiming the bags under his eyes clashed terribly with her new Prada handbag and she’d rather had it than him around. In Foxspeak, it meant ‘go the fuck to sleep or so help me God’. Tim would have fought back just on principle, but Tam had him at a standstill, because the spleen thing could very easily reach Alfred’s ears if he crosses her, and no one (him) wants that. As if to make sure he would obey, she demanded they share the car that would take her to the airport (did she have some meeting out of Gotham? He couldn’t remember) and dropped him at his Perch on her way there.

He wasn’t actually planning on sleep, maybe work some of his cases from home, start patrol early, possibly tracking Jason down to offer his help for the drug cartel thing. Confused by the unexpected way his morning had gone so far, he was woefully underprepared for a flash of red and yellow to whisk him from his living room the second he put his carrier bag on the ground.

It was only years from using his team as glorified uber drives what kept him from nerve striking Bart on reflex. Knowing whatever he asked would be lost to the background sound of super fast travelling, he merely slumped over the thin shoulder he was thrown over and waited till they reached their destination.

Which… he wasn’t expecting Vegas.

The next few hours were a blur of his team explaining they had planned this gateaway as an early graduation party, hugs and a few grateful tears on his part, and booze. So much booze. He was trained by Batman, he had a bigger than average resistance to… well, everything, and still, he got so, so wasted.

Saturday’s hungover was cured with more booze. They hit casino after casino, danced over tables, payed a bar owner to close for the night and let them work their way through his entire supply, went to some neon party at someone’s exceedingly large hotel suite (the guy wasn’t getting his deposit back), his cellphone was thrown on a fountain after Cassie got sick of it going off again and again with Dick’s predetermined ringtone, drank some more, were kicked out of yet another casino...

At some point Tam appeared (a very drunk Tim had hugged her and spun her around so fast her stilettos went flying and almost blinded someone), and they all went back to the hotel, where Kon basically manhandled him into a white suit. More booze when Tim started asking questions, followed by a two hour long stay at some park were Cassie, Bart and Kon took turns holding his hand, and then each others’, with Tam saying something about bonds, and family, and sickness, and health in the background, Kon muttering something in kryptonian and making Tim repeat it, Cassie dropping to one knee and sprouting some Amazonian speech, Bart jumping on his back after his own speech (futuristic laws and all) was done, then more booze, partying and….

Well, everything was a blur, before and after that.

They woke up saturday morning with the worst headache, in a undignified puppy pile back at their suit, minus Tam who apparently had her own room. Kon’s TTK took care of the blinds and Tim blinked awake at the sound (Robin instincts), looked at his sleeping friends and then went back to sleep, head pillowed by Bart’s butt, with Cassie’s knee denting his ribs and Kon’s arm thrown over his neck, completely disregarding the three rings hanging from his shiny new necklace.

That was a problem for sober Tim to solve.

---.----

Monday morning, Tim went back to the office, Tam by his side, acting like everything was perfectly fine.

Dick called after lunch asking about his whereabouts that past weekend, claiming he was missed during patrol, but backed down when informed he was actually relaxing with his friends. Bruce didn’t ask, probably had tracked him down the second he couldn’t find him and let him be after realizing he was at Las Vegas.

Everyone that saw them walking down WE’s hallways would have swore a trail of classic music followed them, graceful and elegant.

In Tim’s mind, however, the background sound was the kill bill sirens and blaring red lights.

Tam felt like a queen, coming back after conquering treacherous lands.

Tim felt like Jason may have been onto something when he died.

----.----

When the Big Day (capital letters included) arrived, and Tim got into the stage to accept his diploma (Honor Student, of course), his eyes automatically went to the loud, rowdy teenagers, sitting as close to the front as possible, cheering and smiling.

He was far enough that it could’ve been a trick of the light, but he thought he could see all three of them going misty-eyed. His own eyes watered when he shook the headmaster's hand and posed with his diploma for the cameras (Wayne Heir Graduating would be trending on every magazine by dinnertime), his friends never stopping yelling his name.

When the time came to throw the little hats, he catched by the corner of his eye how Bart held both Cassie’s and Kon’s hands, keeping them from flying in their emotion. If one paid close attention, their feet actually were floating juuust above the ground. They were just so genuinely excited for him, it was… it was amazing.

After as little smalltalk as possible with his classmates, he sneaked away into some hidden spot, away from prying cameras, and waited. Sure enough, his best friends were there barely ten seconds later, and using that same speed, they swept him off his feet. Bart was the first, latching to his front, Kon a close second jumping on his back and hugging his head. Cassie, ever the showoff, threw her hands around the three of them and spun them around as if they weighted nothing to her. That was probably the case.

-You did it, you did it, you did it!!!! Oh my god, this is so crash!!!

-Not that we had any doubt, with that big brain of yours. Making a girl so proud.

-Speak for yourself. Personally, I feared the worst. This is Gotham, after all.

-But nothing happened! And you GRADUATED!

Tim let out a laugh, allowing himself to just feel joy. Letting them see him like that, as payment for being the most awesome friends (family) in existence, he returned the hug, squeezing back as strongly as his non meta arms could.

Then, a voice behind them that he absolutely didn't expect- Congratulations, Master Timothy.

Without letting any of them go, Cassie turned around, so they could all see Alfred Pennyworth, in his Sunday’s best, looking proud and warm, his eyes glazed over with nostalgia when they landed on his young charge. One of the young men he had the honor to watch grow into the amazing person he was today.

Even more surprising, he held a tablet on his arms, screen facing them, with a familiar figure there, white streak and leather but no firearms, probably cautious of possible civilians around.

-Hey, baby bird. Sorry ‘couldn’t be ther’ p’rsonally. Hope ya don’t mind me an’ Alfie crashing like this.

-A-Alfred? Jason? What… I thought you were in Russia!!

The man on the screen scratched the back of his head, visibly uncomfortable but determined.

-Am, actually. But it’s yer big day, babybird. Wouldn’t missit for the world.

Tim’s already watery eyes just overflowed.

-----.----

It took a month for shit to hit the fan. Tim was honestly impressed, because things rarely went his way, and getting more than a few hours to mentally prepare for Disaster? Unheard of. What a shocker.

When it did went down, it was in large part because he was milking the ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule that kept his team at bay and allowed him to go days without sleeping. Kon would say it was karmatic retribution for ignoring their orders to relax and take it easy. He would protest, but really, how to deny the truth; if not for his sleep deprivation, his secret would have gone a lot longer without being unveiled.

Between hacking into Lexcorp, running the dna samples he took during patrol half an hour ago on the database and finishing his report of the night, he was out of fucks to give. Damian bitching on his ear was the last drop.

-...And your mere presence here is an insult to Grayson's legacy. He founded it, Todd died for it, what did you even contribute to it?

A slow blink. Tim was aware his brain to mouth filter was as good as gone, but tired as he was, he just didn't care.

-Besides providing the brains on this whole fucking operation? Pants, I guess. Common sense. Ninja skills commended by your own grandfather, the king of ninjas. Virtue, too, since Dick is a verified hoe and Jason slept with your/

-C'mon Timmy -cut in Dick, Nightwing suit halfway down his chest, when Damian's face was turning an alarming shade of blue- aren't you a little old to be fighting a kid?

-Who are you calling kid?!

Typical, big bro to the rescue. Tim was too tired to be disappointed that once again Dick was siding with an eleven year old bully that kept harassing Tim. Never mind that he had been minding his business before Damian came to bark at him.

-Boys -chided Bruce and, huh, Tim had said that out loud. Whatever, not like it wasn't true. Fuck them.

-Fuck you -he told… Bruce? Dick? Definitely Damian, too- all.

-Tim! -gasped Dick. Still half naked. Standing right by Damian's side.

That kid was going to have a very uncomfortable sexual awakening any day now.

-SHUT UP, DRAKE! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!

Wow he really needed to stop talking out loud.

-Tim -And now Bruce was walking towards them, frown firmly in place- you are obviously too tired, if you can't control what comes out of your mouth. Go to sleep.

Tim hissed at him. Dick looked too shocked to answer but Bruce, somewhat used to that reaction of the sleep deprived teen, loomed even more.

-I'm an emancipated adult. I control your company. I live on my own. You're not the boss of me.

Now even Damian was looking at him open mouthed. Whatever. The computer pinged with his results, just as his phone did with his 'The hubbies and waifus' group chat.

-What's gotten into you, kiddo? -now Dick was worried, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Still half naked, that was an important detail.

Tim shrugged him away.

-Fucking demon spawn coming from nowhere to fuck with me just for the hell of it puts me in a bad mood, I'm weird like that -he deadpaned, replying to the group chat one handed- And the rest of this fucked up team siding with him just because he's a bad word away from a violent psychotic break doesn't help. Fuck off and let me do my shit, and I'll be out of your hair before you know it.

And then, with a sneer, ignoring both Bruce's and Dick's flabbergasted expressions, Damian said what would be Tim's down fall.

-Go to hell, Drake.

A ping made Tim look down at his phone and he replied without thinking, one hand tapping away at the screen- Wait, let me ask my wife.

A beat of silence. One sneer, one grunt, one surprised gasp.

Bruce made a half step towards him- Tim, what/?

A ping.

-She says no. Hang on, let me get you a second opinion, just to be safe.

-Timmy, what do you mean/?

Another one.

-Husband number one says no, too. Husband number two hasn't replied, probably asleep or traveling somewhere, but two already win by majority. It seems it's a ‘no’ on going to hell for me. Bummer, it would have been funny seeing your homeland, brat.

-...

-Aaaaand that’s my cue to interrupt -announced a new voice above them all. Kon, phone at hand, looked down with half amused, half guarded expression-. Someone hasn’t held their end of the deal and slept eight hours, huh, bud?

Tim, ignoring his family that hadn’t yet recovered from the bomb, shrugged- I slept eight hours. This past week. You never said they had to be consecutive hours.

The super just sighed and landed long enough to haul a too tired to resist bird in his arms- I can see you aren’t getting any sleep in Gotham. Let’s go back to the Tower, Cassie wants us to see The Princess Bride with her again.

-Don’t lie to me, you liar.

-Bart wan/

-Look at my face and tell me the truth.

-Okay, I want to see The Princess Bride again -he conceded, taking flight towards the closest exit, sleepy bird cocooned in his arms and TTK- Later, bats!

-...

Finally, Dick snapped back to reality, although the background noise in his head was one would expect in suspense movies right before the assassin jumped a unsuspecting protagonist- ...did he say ‘husbands’? As in, married?

-...

-AS IN MORE THAN ONE?

----.----

#Tim drake #kon el kent #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #tam fox #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #core four #crack wedding

180 notes · View notes

madpanda75 · 6 years ago

Text

“As Long As You Love Me” Part Two

Part Two to my song fic for @thefanficfaerie‘s Backstreet’s Back Challenge

Thanks for all the comments and likes on Part One of this fic. As I was re-reading it, I definitely felt like I didn’t do this story justice and should have dragged this puppy on a little bit more. I’ll just save it for my next story 😉

Shoutout to @sass-and-suspenders my emotional support through this harrowing process. Who shares my love of procrastination, coffee, and Rafael’s nipples (which are sadly not featured in this fic...again saving it for the next story) ❤️

Warning: Mention of frosted tips and delicious boy bands

“Y/N, I’m home!” Rafael called out when he entered your shared apartment, excited to tell you about his day. “Y/N?” He called again, only to be met with silence. He set his briefcase down and walked over to the bedroom to find you folding laundry while listening to music on your headphones, shaking your head and snapping your fingers to whatever song was thumping in your ears.

“Hi baby. How was your day!?” You shouted.

Rafael chuckled, kissing you sweetly, reaching up to your ears to take out your headphones. “It was great. I won my case. Guilty on all counts,” he said, kicking off his shoes and collapsing on the bed next to you.

“Congratulations! I knew you could do it.” You leaned down and kissed him, playfully nipping at his bottom lip. “My brilliant boyfriend,” you purred before going back to your task.

Rafael smiled and started to help you fold, basking in domestic bliss after a long successful day. He glanced over at your headphones, the faint sound of music could still be heard from the buds. “What are you listening to?” He asked. Picking up your headphones, he placed them up to his ears, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Is that...N’Sync?”

“It is not,” you retorted, snatching your headphones back. “Although I’m impressed you know who N’Sync is. I’m listening to the Backstreet Boys.”

The ADA bit back a laugh, “Boy bands, huh? Is this your way of telling me to learn choreography and frost my tips?”

You playfully smacked his chest as he cracked up at his own joke, “Bite your tongue, Barba. Backstreet Boys were a huge part of my adolescent maturation.”

“Excuse me!” Rafael chortled. “Adolescent maturation!?”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him, “I beg your pardon, but the Backstreet Boys are more than just pretty faces and dance moves. They’re one of the best selling boy bands of all time. Their music, their talent, they’re timeless. Did you know the New York Post listed them as number two on their “Top Ten Boy Bands list?”

“Who was number one?”

“Jackson 5,” you replied. “But still they beat out N’Sync, Boyz II Men, and New Kids on the Block.” You threw a pair of bunched up socks at his head. “Don’t underestimate them or their music.”

Rafael’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Wow, I didn’t know you were such an aficionado on the topic.”

“Looks like you have a lot to learn about me,” you pushed the laundry basket aside and moved to straddle him, pretending your hand was a microphone. “I’d like to dedicate this song to my man, my Papi, the person responsible for my adult maturation,” you pointed to him and giggled before crooning at the top of your lungs the same song you had been listening to.

I don't care who you are

Where you're from

What you did

As long as you love me

Rafael laughed, tugging you down and kissing you hard, silencing your off-key singing. Smiling against your lips, he rolled over on top of you, his tongue moving over yours. You hummed in contentment as you both slowly began to undress each other. Your life, that moment, everything was perfect.

***

“I’ve got a caramel macchiato for Y/N!” The barista shouted above the chaos of caffeine crazed customers. You shoved through the crowd to grab your drink.

It had been almost a week since Rafael left. He eventually returned your call, telling you he would be staying at Olivia’s until the trial. To say you were devastated was an understatement. For three days, you did nothing but stay in bed, wrapped in one of his shirts, the smell of his cologne still lingered on the fabric.

You didn’t understand why he was pushing you away. Didn’t he realize how much you loved him? How you wanted to be there by his side? You needed Rafael. Without him, it felt like a piece of you was missing. Grabbing your drink, you turned for the door, nearly bumping into Carmen and spilling your hot coffee.

“Hey, Y/N,” she pulled you into a tight hug. “How are you?”

“Fine. It’s good to see you,” you smiled, wondering if she knew about how Rafael had left you.

“I have an iced mocha and an americano for Carmen!” The barista called out behind you. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing who that americano was for. It was Rafael’s drink of choice. She grabbed the coffees from behind you. Your eyes glanced down at the americano before looking up at her, the two of you sharing an awkward moment of silence.

“Well, I should get going,” you said. “But it was good to see you.” You walked out of the coffee shop, wiping away a few stray tears that had managed to slip out just as you heard Carmen shouting your name.

She walked as fast as she could to catch up with you while not spilling her drinks. “I know, Mr. Barba would kill me if I said this. But he’s not doing good. The trial is tomorrow and I think you should go. He needs you, just like you need him.”

You sniffled and nodded your head, “What time should I be there?”

***

The next morning you walked into the courtroom, slinking into a seat in the back of the gallery. Your breath hitched when you saw the back of his perfectly coiffed head. Although you couldn’t see his face, you knew how nervous and scared he was. You gripped the bench so hard, your knuckles turned white, willing yourself not to run to him. The sound of a gavel banging made you jump. The trial was about to start.

After Peter Stone finished questioning his last witness on the stand, the judge announced a short recess. Olivia spied you in the back of the courtroom, immediately walking up to you afterwards. “Y/N, I’m glad to see you’re here,” she softly said.

“I had to come. I couldn’t abandon Rafael now, even though I don’t think he wants me here,” you bit your lip, fighting back tears. “How is he?”

Olivia shook her head and sighed, “Hanging on by a thread.”

You looked down, studying your shoes for a moment, feeling heartbroken and helpless. How do you reach out to someone who keeps pushing you away. “If you see him, tell him...tell him I said hi and that I still love him,” you softly replied, your voice cracking.

Just as you were about to leave, she gently reached for your hand. “Why don’t you tell him yourself,” she softly smiled and led you down a side hallway. “Come with me.”

***

Rafael sat in a spare room with his head in his hands, mumbling a prayer in Spanish. The morning after the charity dinner, he woke up before you with a splitting headache, looking down to see you still sleeping, half on top of him, your leg hooked around his. You were so peaceful and perfect. It was then that he made the decision to leave. As much as it broke his heart, he couldn’t bear the idea of putting you through a trial, watching you suffer the consequences of his actions along with him.

Now as he waited in the same courthouse that he had given his heart and soul to for 21 years, all he could think of was you. If he could just see your face one more time, hold you one more time, then maybe he would be able to survive this. In an answer to his prayers, the door opened.

He looked up at the intrusion, his breath caught in his throat when he saw you standing before him. The one person he needed now more than ever. The person who would never quit him. The person who believed in him when it seemed like nobody, not even himself could.

You both stared at each other saying nothing for a long minute before running into each other’s arms. He held you so tight, you couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t care. Right then you needed Rafael more than you needed air. He closed his eyes tightly, inhaling deeply, the smell of your shampoo bringing him comfort. You tilted your head up, cupping his face and wiping a tear away from his cheek.

“You’re here,” he whispered. With a shaky hand, he ran a hand through your hair, needing to touch you, to prove that you were really there and not a figment of his imagination.

You softly smiled and nodded your head. A lump in your throat prevented you from speaking.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he said in a shaky voice, fighting back a sob.

“Shhh, its ok. I’m here now. I’m here with you,” you leaned your forehead against his, placing a soft kiss on his lips just as Dworkin entered the room.

“Woah there, kids! Save it for when we win,” he said, glancing over at you. “Although I must say, Barba, you have good taste.” Rafael gave the lawyer his signature eye roll, gripping your hand tightly and walking back into the courtroom with you. A sense of peace washed over him now that he knew you were here.

***

Not guilty. The two most indescribably beautiful words you could have ever heard. Upon hearing those words, you swore the heavens opened up with angels singing Handel’s Messiah. You practically leapt over the gallery bench and into Rafael’s arms when the verdict was read, almost afraid the jury would come back and say they changed their minds. “You’re free, mi amor. It’s all over now,” you whispered through your tears.

After Rafael announced he was resigning from the D.A.’s office, you suggested going away for a few days while things died down and the city found another scandal to gossip about. Long overdue for a vacation, he agreed, the two of you deciding on a week away at St. Bart’s. When you arrived, he collapsed on the bed, utterly exhausted, sleeping for 12 hours straight. It was the first good sleep he had in months.

The rest of your time was spent relaxing on the beach or staying in bed all day worshipping each other’s bodies. You reconnected physically and emotionally, promising one another that you would always be there for each other no matter the circumstance.

On the morning of your last day, Rafael got up early to take a long walk. He strolled along the beach, watching the sunrise, the surf splashing against his bare feet. He felt reborn, life had just given him a second chance.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small velvet box. He held it in his hand, thinking about you and the life he wanted to share with you. When Jack McCoy asked him why he was leaving, he told the older man that he was going to do what he must and that was exactly what Rafael was about to do now.

Coming back into the bedroom, he softly smiled at your sleeping form. You were a vision with your tan skin, hair wild and fanned out. His cock twitched a bit when he noticed your nipples hardening from beneath the sheets, your pink lips still swollen from the night before. He laid next to you on the bed, moving a few tendrils away from your face. Leaning over, he placed featherlight kisses up your arm. His fingers tracing around the love bite he left on your shoulder before dropping a tender kiss on the spot.

You hummed in contentment and opened your eyes, grinning up at him. “Good Morning,” you yawned and stretched a bit.

“Good Morning, cariño,” he softly said. His lips continued their fiery trail until his mouth brushed up against yours, kissing you with such passion it stole your breath away. You threaded your fingers in his hair, softly moaning as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. He pulled away, panting a bit, looking down at you while running his thumb across your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, the intensity of his gaze causing you to blush.

“Can you wake me up like this every morning? This is so much better than my alarm clock,” you teased.

He chuckled, peppering your face with kisses. Sitting up on the bed, he pulled you up with him, his face suddenly becoming serious. “I’m so sorry for everything. I left because I thought I didn’t deserve you anymore. I was so afraid of how my consequences would affect your life.”

You reached out and caressed his cheek, feeling the scruff of his newly grown beard under your fingertips, “You forgot one important thing. It’s not my life anymore. It’s our life. What you did, it doesn’t change my feelings for you. I know the man you are. As long as you love me, that’s all I need. I love you with all my heart. Nothing will ever change that.”

He nodded his head, “I know that now. That’s why I have this.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the velvet box before moving to get down on one knee, which was a little awkward since he was still on the bed.

Upon opening the box, you saw a beautiful platinum engagement ring, tiny diamonds nestled along the band with a larger diamond in the center. He pulled the ring out, holding it in front of you where you could see that inside the ring was the inscription, “As Long as You Love Me.”

Your eyes went from Rafael to the ring, your heart beating fast. “Raf?” You whispered.

Rafael audibly swallowed, his hands slightly shaking as his nerves began to set in, “Y/N, you’re the light of my world. The love of my life. Being with you, I realize that all I need is for you to love me. I don’t want to spend another second without you by my side. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

A smile grew across your face as tears streamed down your cheeks. “Yes! Yes! Yes! With all of my heart, yes!” You shouted, bouncing up and down on the bed. He beamed, his own eyes glossy with tears as he placed the ring on your finger. You cried harder, pulling him down on top of you and kissing him deeply. “I love you,” you murmured against his lips.

“I love you too,” he said, sliding his hands beneath the mattress, holding you as close as humanly possible. Laying there in each other’s arms on that quiet peaceful morning, the loneliness, the fear, the insecurities, they all disappeared. With Rafael, you knew that as long as you had each other, your love could survive anything.

@thatesparzacrush @glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @eclecticminded @obfuscateyummy @katmstanton @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetcannolicarisi @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @amirightcounsellor @livxrafa @delia26

#rafael barba #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #barba #barba fic #barba imagine #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine #backstreet boys #backstreets back challenge #backstreetsbackchallenge

131 notes · View notes

valeriemperez · 7 years ago

Note

After the first three episodes, do you think they’ve been trying to hard to be funny to make up for last season? IMO Flash hasn’t spent enough time on the meaningful moments. Also, for future episodes like 4.08, I saw the video of the double wedding and I hope they filmed that in a meaningful way because I can’t imagine WA saying their vows with passion while Diggle is all up in their personal space. I’m gonna need several WA couch scenes to make up for this.

They definitely haven’t been pulling any punches with the jokes, but it hasn’t reached try-hard levels for me. And I have seen very meaningful moments in each episode: Iris telling Barry “I don’t know what I would do if this is all that’s left” made me tear up in 4.01, their talk about “We are the Flash” was lovely in 4.02, Barry and Joe talking about memories of home and Cisco telling Harry he’s family were both lovely in 4.03.

There are a few scenes that missed the mark, like Wally’s send-off, but that’s the only plot so far that I think was a fail. But I also hope the double wedding scene is filmed in a meaningful way. But remember we haven’t seen the actual filming of it - since the cameras are no doubt all up in their faces for that and we can’t even see our actors’ expressions in the rehearsals.

I’m surprised you think the Joecile pregnancy is real? You’re just going with it huh 😂 I’m praying it’s the writers fucking with us…I can’t with old man Joe having a baby before Barry.

We actually discuss our Joecile pregnacy theories on the podcast this week! Suffice it to say, I’m allowing for the possibility of her to actually be pregnant and have the baby, but I’m also allowing for her not to be. It doesn’t really matter to me either way, though, because no matter what I expect it to be foreshadowing for the West-Allen babies.

4.05 looks like it will be fun! (Of course I’m seeing complaining because that what this fandom does but whatever. Sure it sucks Linda isn’t around, but Iris doesn’t seem to care that much). I’m lowkey hoping that pregnancy is a false alarm because how much fun is a newly pregnant lady with a high risk pregnancy at a bachelorette party? I’m glad you’re enjoying the season so far, I am too and it’s nice to see positivity ❤️

I’m pretending Iris cares offscreen, or that Linda is in fact around and just busy, haha. But I can’t base my feelings on a guest star from two seasons ago not being here, no matter how much I love her. A false alarm is much preferable and far more likely than a miscarriage, so I agree with you.

I know fans are upset about the double wedding and it’s understandable. However, there is literally nothing we do. Its been shot. The most can be having low to zero expectations. Or taking a hiatus to get away from fandom(s) - Arrow including because there tends to be some WA/OF spats. The wedding is not going to be executed the way we wanted it to be. Fans gotta find a way to accept it and try enjoy some or any parts they can find tolerable. 😊

Pretty much. I’ve already moved onto the acceptance phase, most likely because I’m 90% satisfied with the season so far.

I’m on your side here, I’m happy we’re hearing the full set of vows from Barry and Iris at all, I don’t really care about the double wedding part. I mean, I’m not thrilled with the idea, but it’s happening so deal with it? That seems to be an unpopular opinion though 😂. I’m sure we’ll still see part of the church and there’s nothing stopping 4.09 from having a reception type party with everyone.

Exactly. For me, hoping they get through as much of the wedding as possible before an interruption was for the sake of missing out. It’s not like the camera is gonna be trained on OF during WA’s vows, so I’m not worried about that. I fully believe the showrunners love their ship, so I think we’ll get something nice even if it’s not a full-on reception including random peeps WA met two seasons ago.

Sounds like a mess to me. Having dark!Barry express that what he really wants is to be with Iris. From my understanding the issue ended by more or less saying these future kids aren’t necessarily going to happen and they probably won’t show up again. Still a stupid storyline and I’m a little pissed DC comics agreed to have it be done.

It was a mess, and you are correct on how it ended. Considering it was Hitch’s last arc on a run that was largely considered a dumpster fire, I am sure no other writer will pick it up.

Sorry I’m still confused. After the future kids save them with all hope the whole league (including Barry) accepts and wants these kids to be their future kids? Or does Barry and the rest decide the kids are part of a future they don’t want? This isn’t you by the way, the storyline sounds like a MESS.

No, they don’t want these future kids. They just randomly remember that alternate universes and divergent worlds exist, and these kids will be just fine wherever they come from even if they’re not our kids. So they’re like, “May our future will include y’all, but most likely not. Don’t worry, though, you guys are totally real where you come from!”

Did Barry and Jessica at least have a awkward “welp that was fun but lets never have kids okay?” Or did the writer sweep it under the rug and just ignore the whole thing? I’m confused tho….did the ending make it firm that these future kids aren’t coming back?

They didn’t even speak to each other at the end, so it’s more like they swept it under the rug and ignored it. And the ending implied the kids would never come back, and that it was a totally random future. Considering that Bart is showing up in Super Sons in January, I don’t think we need to worry.

#the flash #justice league #spoilers #anonymous #tatiana's thoughts #more asks under the cut #long post for ts

18 notes · View notes

ranya-smut-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Wanted

Chapter 1

Samuel was at an exclusive rooftop party in West Hollywood, surrounded by dozens of beautiful people, laughing and mingling.

Man, this party is happening!I can’t even sip my beer without bumping into a movie star.

He glanced down at the empty beer bottle in his hand.Speaking of which a spot opened up at the bar. Samuel headed over to get another drink, but as he slided in, a young woman going for the same spot bumped into him.

“Sorry about that“

“My bad. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,I’m fine. I can be such a klutz sometimes!“

“Can I tell you a secret?Everyone’s a klutz.It’s just that some people are better at hiding it.“ he said cheekily

“Hee hee“

The woman held out her hand, and Samuel shaked it

“I’m Amber.“

“Samuel.Can I buy you a drink?“

“I’ll have a mojito“

He turned to the bartender

“Hey, can I get a couple of drinks over here?She will have a mojito and I’ll have a beer“

The bartender brought their drinks, and he sip the cold, crisp beer.

“So, what do you do?“

“I’m an actress.Well, aspiring actress anyway. I played a corpse on Season 4 of Louisiana Vice.“

“Oh, I remember you! You were the one that got mauled by the gators, right?“

“You saw it?“ she asked

“Don’t be shy! You were great. I totally believed that you’d been mauled by some gators“ she smiled in return.

“So what do you do?“

“I’m a actor too.“

“Play any corpses?“

“Nope.But you can definitely see my right shoulder during the big battle in Blood Brothers“

“I remember when I watched that, thinking that is one sexy shoulder“

“So here we are, a corpse and a shoulder..“ Samuel smirked.

He nodded towards a table at the far end of the party, where a sweaty, older man sits, glowering angrily.

“Think he’ll write about us?“ he asked

“Is that…?“

“Bart White, the guy who runs Dirty Hollywood“

“This website is trashy and sleasy and gross..And I read it every day.“

“Same. Where else would I find out about Carly Caroline’s pill habit or Ryan Summer’s latest fling?“

“Well, maybe we should give him something to write about..“ she flirted

They both leaned to put their drinks down, and his fingers brush lightly. He looked up into her’s eyes and smiled.Samuel leaned in and kissed Amber, fully, deeply. She startled, and then leaned into it,eyes closed, her skin pressed to his.After a moment,she pulled away.

“I don’t usually…“

“Me neither.But it just felt right“ he grinned,taking her hand and that’s when he spotted,over Amber’s shoulder, a man striding into the party. In the moonlight, he saw his grizzled face twisted into a sneer.

The man raised something that gleamed in the moonlight..a shotgun.

“Gun!He’s got a gun!“

“What the-“

The partygoers turned their attention to his warning and saw the weapon, just as the man fired a deafening blast into the air.

“Run“ said the man angrily and maniacally

The partygoers screamed and ran for the exit, charging for the stairs. Amber grabbed Samuel’s arm and pulled him down behind the bar.

“Hide!Hide!“ she hissed

Samuel hunked down behind the bar and watched in horror.The man let most of the guests flee. But as soon as Bart White started to run, he racked his shotgun and leveled it at him.

“Not you,Bart. You’re staying“

The man loomed towards him.Bart raised his hands

“Please, don’t shoot! I will do anything!Whatever you’re getting for this, I can double it!“ he begged

“Actually…you can’t“ the man smirked

Samuel turned back to Amber and whispered

“That psycho’s going to kill Bart.We have to do something“

“No…please Samuel don’t go out there“

“I’m sorry Amber but I can’t let him die!“

“What the fuck! Are you his personal bodygard?” she shot back angrily but he stepped out from behind the bar, pushing Amber away and rised up behind the gunman’s back

He grabbed a bottle,took three steps across the floor, and threw it. It hurtles through the air in a perfect arc and shattered explosively against the back of the man’s head.

“Gotcha, you son of a bitch“

Samuel reached over to grab another bottle when the man swiveled back to him, blood tricking into his eyes.He leveled the shotgun right at him

“Wrong move,hero“

The man pulled the trigger, and the blast from his shotgun ripped through Samuel’s stomach

“No!“ Amber screamed

Agony seared through him as crimson seeped through your shirt. He crumpled to the ground and tried to breath.Above him, the gunman turned back to Bart, leveling his shotgun and backing him up against the railing

“Please..don’t“

“Your turn, you maggot. Let’s see if you can fly” the man shot.Bart’s stomach exploded in a hot red spray.He toppled backwards over the railing and vanished. He screamed as he fell.

An eternity later, Samuel heard his body smash into a car.Distant screams wafted up from the street.The warmth draining from his body, he coughed and tasted blood.

“Not like this“ he said sad

The man spited after Bart,then turned and stalked away into the darkness.As Samuel’s vision blurred,his head lolled to the side, and he spotted Amber, still hidden behind the bar.She looked very sad,trembling,like she doesn’t have the power to move. And the last thing he saw before he died was her eyes.

Meanwhile across town

Anya sat at a poker table in the glitzy parlor of sprawling L.A. manor. All around her, Hollywood’s poshest and prettiest mingle and gossip.With a grin,she leaned forward and pulled the huge pot of poker chips into hers pile

“Who’s ready for another hand?“ she asked

By now, only two other players are still in the game.Action superstar Roan Smith

“You mean ready to clean you out,Woods? Because I’m always ready for that” he said

and Hollywood’d latest ‘it’ girl, Echo Martin

“Big talk from the guy who lost the last three hands“ she laughed and Anya smirked

“He’s just been biding his time.Losing until I let my guard down.Isn’t that right,Roan?“

“Yeah,yeah.Just deal the cards,will you?“ they grinned

Anya dealed each player a pair of cards. Anya turn came and she looked at her cards

Two of clubs,seven of hearts.Good thing I like a challenge.

“Raise.A grand“ she said

“No way you got a good hand again!“ Roan said as he looked at her “Or did you?”

“Only one way to find out.“

“You’re not pushing me out that easily.I see you and raise another five grand on top”

Echo glanced at her cards

“My agent’s always telling me to know when to walk away, and that’s now.I fold“

“I’ll stick around for the fireworks.I see your raise, Roan. And raise again“ Anya said

Roan glanced at his cards again,debating whether to call

“If you keep this up, Roan, you’re gonna end up losing this house to me“ she said “And I could definitely get used to living here.Might do a little remodeling, though”

“Maybe put your name in giant lights on the front?“ Echo said

“I like the way you think” she winked at Echo

“Oh god, spare me the nightmares.I’ve lost enough for one night“ Roan sighed “I fold”

Like taking a candy from a baby.

“So what were your cards,Anya?“

“A gentlewoman never tells“

“You’d think by now I’d know when a woman is full of it. I shouldn’t have folded three hands ago. I had a-

“A king and a low card, four or five, I’m guessing. Both hearts“

“How the hell did you know that?“

“Your eyes dilated every time you drew suited pocket cards“ Anya said proudly as she leaned back “But you bit your lip when the last card was a diamond.One short of a flush“

“So you’re jsut been looking at my lips this whole time,is that it?“

“Can you blame me?“

“I suppose not.I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t distracted by someone during the game too“ Echo flirted back

“Anya,you sure know how to turn on the charm“ Roan said as he came back with a glass of whiskey “Guess that’s what makes you the best detective in the city”

“Hold on,you’re a cop?Look about those unpaid speeding tickets…”

“Relax,Echo.Anya has bigger fish to fry.She’s Major Crimes.And she’s one of the good guys“ he laughed “She knows how to handle things…sensitively”

“Meaning?“

“You know what life in the spotlight is like.Let’s just say,if something bad happens to you and you don’t want it to turn into a media circus, Anya’s the woman you want on the case“

“And what exactly does Anya expect in return?“

“A tip here. A lead there.People like you and Roan know things.When you’re busting this city’s criminals,it helps to have friends in high places”

“Criminals,huh?Most guys I meet only play the action hero in the movies“ Echo smiled at Anya, a smile she’ve seen on a dozen magazine covers but somehow looked even more seductive in person

“Well, this action hero is out of chips and bourbon, so I’m off to mingle and be a good host.You two have a fun“ Roan shot Anya a sly, knowing look as he went

“You know,Anya,I was hoping I could get you alone”

“All you had to do was ask“ Anya smirked

“What Roan said about you helping celebrities…quietly.Was that true, or..?“

“What do you think?“

“I’m not sure. Is your partner as good as you are?“

“I don’t work with a partner.The brass knows my work is all about trust, relationships that take a long time to build up.It’s delicate. Having a partner just gets in the way“ Echo looked down,thinking

“It sounds like you’re about to ask me for help“

“I’d much rather just spend the evening flirting with you.“ Anya nodded

Without another word, Anya leaned closer and began to press open-mouth kisses to Echo’s neck and chest. She started her journey where her breasts began to rise, going lower with each peck until she got to the nipple. Her thumb flicked at the hardening nipple, her tongue doing the same with the other one. Echo gasped, her spine arching and pressing her chest further closer to Anya’s touch.

Anya couldn’t help but to jerk her hips, seeking out the friction.

“Anya” Echo gnawed on Anya’s upper lip, somehow hoping that by just uttering her name she’d let Anya know how much she needed her.

“Alright” she urged you to get on her knees, provide some space for her. Echo moaned at the sight of her, Anya’s fingers wrapping around Echo’s hip.She looked Echo deadly in the eyes and leaned forward

Just then Anya’s phone buuzzed.She checked the text.

‘Double homicide at Cordillera Towers.They want you.Get there now’

“Duty calls“ Anya said, grabbed her suit and left without еxplanations

Twenty minutes later, Anya pulled up outside the elegant Cordillera Towers, home to dozens of Hollywood’s elite.Yellow crime scene tape cordoned off a wrecked car by the curb.A body lied sprawled on a car’s caved-in roof.

“What the hell happened here?”

Anya marched past the paparazzi gathering beyond the barricades. Sitting in the back of an ambulance, a wide-eyed young woman shivered under a blanket

“Samuel..he tried to stop him.The man with the gun.. his eyes“

Anya recognized the rookie cop managing the scene

“Detective Woods!Thank God you’re here” Tris said

“What’s the word,Tris?“

“Wrap party on the roof, hosted by Kyle Wick,the movie mogul.He lives in the building.Witnesses say the perp walked into the party with a shotgun,killed two guests, then vanished.White male,thinning hair, seemed unhinged.“

Tris nodded to the body on the car’s roof

“Looks like he shot this one off the roof.There’s another victim up there too. 24-years-old male named Samuel.Up-and coming actor,looks like he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time“

Anya nodded,processing the information

“The other victim,the one who got shot off the roof,didn’t have and ID but…Detective, I think that’s-“

“Bart White.“

“The celebrity gossip blogger,right?“

“Yes.White made a living spilling Hollywood’s dirty secrets.I knew he’s piss off the wrong person some day“ Anya rubbed her forehead and exhale slowly, trying to calm her racing thoughts

“Okay,we need to keep a lid on this before the media goes nuts“

“I know.I’ve never manage a scene this bad on my own.I’m nervous“

“I’ve been there.My first VIP case, Jilla Diamonds plowed her sports car throught a street fair.Twenty people injured“ Anya tried to calm down the girl. She was smart and Anya really liked her

Tris nodded. “I remember that.You must have been confident in your actions’’

“More like fighting off a panic attack“ Anya smirked as she patted Tris in the shoulder

“You got this“ Tris nodded with a smile on her face

“Anya! It’s about time you showed up“ Kyle Wick shouted as he hurried towards Anya

“I asked Officer Pin-up here to call you as soon as the cops showed“ Wick spat

“This guys said he’s a friend of yours?“ Tris shot back

“I don’t think so“ Anya said already done with the movie mogul

“This is a nightmare.Literal nightmare.Slap me so I wake up“

“Just breathe,Kyle.I know a dead body is not a beautiful sigh“

“Dead body? Who cares?! I live here! My property value is going down the freaking toilet.“

“Classy as always, Kyle.If that’s all you care about then you’ll want to wrap this inverstigation up quick.That means you help me get what I want when I want it“ Anya said angrily, totally done with this case. She wanted to go home and have a cup of whiskey

“Most of the guests fled the scene.Did anyone get a photo of the killer? A video?“

“Everyone was running for their lives“

“Okay,okay.Just go to your condo and stay put“ Anya turned to Tris

“Let’s get this body to the lab for examination.Given its condition that’s going to take a while but the murders happened up there on the roof.That’s where most of the evidende will be.“

Anya and Tris rode the elevator to the top of the condominium tower.Upbeat dance music still pumped from the abandoned Dj booth.The second victim’s body lied supine in a massive pool of blood near the railing,his stomach riddled with ragged holes. Anya kneeled beside him.

His eyes stared blankly into the sky.Anya gently closed them

“Sorry,kid“ she moved towards the edge of the building and peered over the railing near the bar.Twelve stories below, Bart White’s body lies splayed on the car.Blood spatter extends out from him like an angel wings

“Long way down“ Anya turned around, surveying the area

“This is gonna be big,Tris. First thing first.What happened where“Anya spotted something bright red in the ice bucket on the nearby bar, next to various handles of hard alcohol. She put the rubber glove

“A shotgun shell“ Tris confirmed

“Fits the spread of the wound.And if the shell was here in the ice bucket that means our killer must’ve shot them right where we are“

“To shoot from such short range.. that seems cruel“

“When that happens, it usually means that-“

A female voice from behind Anya finished her thought

“The killer wanted to watch him die“ the woman said. Anya turned aorund to find a brunette woman, her hair in a ponytail, strolling towards the scene.

“Maybe it was personal,maybe he just wanted to make sure job was done“ she continued

“You can’t be here!This is an active crime scene, not a hangout for tourists“

“Not quite.Raven Reyes, Deputy U.S Marshal “ she extended a hand.

Anya shaked Raven’s hand

“Anya Woods, L.A.P.D. Major Crimes.Where’d you say you were from?“

“West Texas branch“

“My geography might be a bit hazy but I’m pretty sure L.A. isn’t in West Texas“

“I’m tracking a fugitive. Cage Wallace, a notorious killer-for-hire. He escaped pur custody and fled to L.A. I just flew in tonight“

“And you think this is his handiwork?“

“Heard the call over the police scanner.Witnesses reported a man matching my guy’s description.Let me guess.Shotgun blasts at point blank? That’s Wallace M.O. He doesn’t leave anything to chance“

“I bet you ballistics comes back saying it was a sawed-off shtgun too.He’s partial to those“ Raven said calmly even tho she wanted to choke the woman. Raven brushed past Anya to peer over the rail.

“Hang on a second“ Anya said in her angrily voice

“I’m gonna need a list of everyone who was here.We need statements from all of them as soon as possible.Then roadblocks at a half-mile radius looking for a man of his description- “

“Time out,Sherlock” Anya met this girl two minutes ago and she was already driving her nuts “I appreciate the Marshals sending you to lend a hand,but-“

“Woods,right? I get it. Another woman stepping in is a blow to the ego.I’ve seen ti before but I have a job to do. And I don’t have the time to tiptoe“

Raven resumed examinig the scene, leaving Anya stunned

“I think we got off on the wrong foot.So how about this? You will be my first call as soon as I get any info“ Anya flashed her signature irresistible smirk at her.She met hers eyes and said

“I’m not going anywhere.I’ve come a long way to get this guy.I’m not getting benched by a suit”

“Not just any suit,this is Armani and right now we don’t know this is your guy’s doing.When we get proof I’ll give you a call,got it?“

“You want proof? Let’s get to the tape“ Raven nodded towards the camera in the corner

“You win this round“

“Honey,I’m just getting warmed up“ Raven smirked

Anya and Raven headed down the elevator to Wick’s condo.

“I will convice him to show us the footage and we’ll get your answer“

“Like you conviced him to show it before?Leave this to me“

“No way.I know how to handle people like Wick.You’ll just scare him into lawyering up.You do have lawyers in Texas,right?“

“Nope, we settle everything in a duel at high noon“

“I said I will handle it“ Anya glared

“Alright,it’s your show”

Anya marched up to the door to Wick’s condo and knocked on it. After a moment, Wick opened it

“Anya? What’s the matter?Who the hell is this?“

“This is Raven Reyes with the U.S. Marshals and we’ve got a problem”

“What is she doing here?I said I needed this quiet“

“To ID our shooter we need a witness to come forward.That means we’ve gotta go to the press. So the story about the grisly murder at your building will be running every few minutes on every TV in the state“

“No! You can’t do that to me!“

“It’s really too bad we don’t have any surveillance footage of him. If we had a sharp image we could ID him and none of this would have to happen“

“Well to be perfectly honest“ Wick started “Ï have set up some security cameras around the premises“

“Security,sure“ Raven laughed

“I’m very wealthy miss.They’re for insurance“

“Time to cash in your policy,don’t you think?“ Anya asked

“Sounds like I don’t have a choice.“

As Wick leaded you towards the back of the condo, Anya shot a wink at Raven who rolled her eyes

“What? You want a medal?“

“That be nice,thanks“

Wick took them into a tiny back office and boots up a monitor. After a few clicks he called up a dozen surveilance images on screen

“How many cameras do you have around here?“ Raven spat

“Is that one in the bathroom?What the hell?“ Anya matched Raven’s range

“Um..let me just find….This is from tonight,by the pool. An hour before the murder“

On screen several beautiful models wade around the pool in bikinis.Celebrity blogger Bart White chatted with one of them.

“That’s our victim“

“And who is that moving toward him?“

“Joshua Neely.Indie film director and he doesnt look happy“

On screen Josh got in Bart’s face shouting! They can barely make out the words on the sound recording

‘That’s the last blog post you ever write about me.I guarantee it‘

“Sounds like a threat to me“ Raven said

“Come on, skip to the time of the murder“ Anya ordered

Josh walked out of frame and the video blurred as Wick speeded up the tape again. As the far end of the image, they spotted Samuel chatting with the young woman Anya saw in the ambulance

“Our other victim“

An imposing figure stepped into the frame, his gaze fixated on Bart. A sawed-off shotgun glinted in his hands.The crowd scattered in panic as the shadown cornered a terrified Bart. Samuel threw a bottle, nailing Wallace in the back of the head but he spin on him and shot him down with a vicious blast

“Not many people that brave in this town“

The killer then turned back to Bart, stepping into a light. For the first time Anya could made out his face

‘Let’s see if you can fly‘ the shooter said. The killer grinned as he watched Bart fell.Wick freezed the tape.Anya and Raven had a perfect image of his face

“It’s him“

“That’s your fugitive?“

“Cage Wallace.Linked to at least a dozen hits in the Ozarks.He terrorized the South for a decade,before a pair of traffic cops pulled him over for a busted headlight. And found the body of a 19-years-old guy in his truck, stabbed fifty times with a broken bottle.“ Raven looked at the screen then at Anya

“He confessed to everything. Apparently,he’s got a temper when he’s drunk. Lost his cool on the kid.He spent the next eight years behind the bars.And last week as he was finally being transferred onto death row.. he escaped“ Raven’s eyes got harder

“You wanted proof?You have it.I’m taking over this investigation“

“I don’t think you realise how delicate this situation is“ Anya said “I’m keeping the scene, I know the victim”

“And I know the killer.Get this straight. I am not leaving L.A. without him“

Anya noticed her face flush with emotions

“I get it.You’re doing this because it’s personal for you“ Raven blinked, jarred momentarily

“I knew it.What’s the deal?Did he hurt someone you know? Did he escape on your watch or-“

“It’s none of your business.It’s my job to catch him and you’re not going to stop me“ Hey eyes were full of range

“I don’t need some hothead coming from Texas and interrogating every celebrity in Hollywood“

Raven stepped up gettting in Anya’s face, her eyes icy steel

“And I don’t need some Hollywood schmoozer around“

“Face it,Reyes.You’re a Marshal,not a homicide detective.You wouldn’t even know where to start on a case like this“

“As a metter of fact, I do.Wallace’s a killer-for-hire. If I find out who hired him, I will find him.The director hated Bart”

“You really don’t know who Bart is,do you?“ Anya smirked and that made Raven more mad “Everyone wanted him dead.Bart White was the most gated man in Los Angeles and you think you can find out who hired him,or where he’s hiding,in a city you don’t know the first thing about”

“I track people for a living.Watch me“

“This is my town.This is my crime scene“

“You’ll share it“ a woman said behind them.When they turned around they saw a black statuesque woman entering the back office

“Captain?“ Anya tried not to sound to dissapointed at woman’s choice

“You must be Captain Indra Thomas, I’m Raven Reyes U.S Mar–“

“I know all about you, Deputy Marshal.Your paperwork came through the L.A. Marshals office. It sounds like you pulled some strings to get here“

“I sure did“ she glanced at Anya who only glared more at the brunette “I appreciate the hospitality, ma’am.Promise to keep my investigation quick“

“Your investigation?Deputy Marshal,you’re a guest of the Major Crimes Unit and as such you will be working with my best detective“

“Great“ Raven nodded with enthusiasm “Wait, you mean this woman?You can’t be serious”

“For once I agree.Please say you’re not serious“ Anya said. She didn’t wanted to work with Raven.She just wanted to relax all night with Echo in Roan’s house with a glass of whiskey

“What I’‘m saying is, as of this moment, the two of you are partners“ Indra was deadly serious.

#wanted #ranya fanfiction #ranya #raven x anya #ranya fic #raven reyes #raven reyes x anya #anya the 100 #anya woods #detectives

12 notes · View notes

rpgexperience · 4 years ago

Text

My servant Devil - session 8

Abigail once again struggles to fall asleep. Thoughts are buzzing in her head and worries about the children keep her up. Suddenly, there’s a soft knock on the door and Lucian walks in. He apologises for arguing with her earlier: “I want you to know that I don't think you are incapable of handling the situation. But I am worried for your well being. Maybe you were born for this role but you weren't prepared for it.”

He hands Abigail a book, in which he has found a spell referring to the staff. The book shows drawings of seven staffs, each explained - the staff in her father’s secret library has the elemental spirit of a storm trapped inside. The power of the storm can be unleashed by citing a verbal spell: Dealanaich. Lucian however warns her: “I don't doubt that you are capable of performing this spell and I don't know much about magic. But what I do know is that magic always comes with a price.”

Together the devise a plan for dealing with the case at hand - take the king’s son and a couple of dwarves to the mansion, where it’s easier to see and stay safe and wait for the attackers to come there instead. Lucian also warns about Abigail about Ambrose, whose ambitions are, according to him, not very pure and noble.

Abigail returns to sleep which is filled with nightmares of the night on the ship and haunted by Lucian.

“My lady,” he says. She tries to kick around and run away from him, sounds of shattering can be heard. “My lady, wake up,” he insists worried, grabbing her shoulder. Abigail opens her eyes and now he looks normal again, his sharp teeth are gone and his eyes are not shinning such dangerous red anymore. She looks at him scared, he quickly lets go of her, as she’s trying to calm her panting. Lucian watches her worried, apologises and collects shards of what used to be her tea and excuses himself to bring her a new cup.

Soon he returns with a new cup of tea and tray with breakfast - three delicious looking dishes and burnt something which Bart insisted to be brought to her. She eats Lucian’s delicious food and asks him to hide from Bart that she didn’t eat his. Then she gets up, gets dressed, takes the book Lucian has found and the staff from the secret office and makes her way to the garden.

In the garden, Fin immediately comes running to her excited, showing her how he managed to restore the garden, he has also planted some new pretty flowers he has found. Abigail apologises to him and makes him a gardener, allowing him to make minor changes to the order. Fin is very happy about it.

Abigail walks through the garden to find a suitable spot for her to practice magic. She takes the staff, points it up and says: “Deal-a-nike!” But nothing happens. Lucian corrects her that she pronounces it wrong and teaches her the correct way. How he knows? Apparently, it’s a word for lighting in the language of demons. She tries again, pronouncing it properly, slowly. Suddenly, a small lightning bolt comes out from the staff and hits her own hand. Ouch. She tries again, saying it a bit faster. This time a proper lightning bolt shoots out from the staff and into the sky. As the bolt shoots out of the staff she feels energy being drained from her, her knees get weak until she eventually falls to the ground. Lucian dashes to her, crouching down next to her worried.

“Abby?! I saw the lightning, did it hit you?!” Oliver comes running to the garden from god-knows-where. “You shouldn't play around with the staff, it might attract the lightning…” then he looks up to the cloudless sky, oblivious to the power of the staff: “Huh, but strange how lightning can strike on a clear day like this.” Lucian and Oliver help Abigail stand, both rather worried but Lucian doing most of the work really. They help her inside the mansion and to a lounger in the tea room.

Oliver was on a walk nearby and saw her playing with the staff and the lightning hitting her. She lies that she was doing a special type of exotic dance which Oliver accepts. Oliver doesn’t know much about his brother, they were never really close. They mostly talk about the ball: “Uhm… I have seen the two of you together.. Do you like him?” he blurts out. Abigail blushes: “S-sure, he seems like a nice person… I- I've seen you've met somebody at the ball?” The person was Caleb, from Wales, it’s difficult to see each other as his family doesn’t come to London very often.

“D-d-do y-you oh-uhm... f-fancy Caleb?” Abigail asks awkwardly, avoiding looking at Oliver.

“What makes you s-say that?” Oliver is very high-pitched and flustered. He knows that what he’s doing is considered to be a sin and against the God.

“I- uhm- I went for a walk in the gardens b-because I needed some fresh air…”

“Oh... uhm... Oh… Did you s-see…?” Oliver asks in trembling voice. Abigail nods expressionless.“A-Abby I'm so sorry I- I... uhm... you won't tell anybody will you?” Abigail shakes her head, No. He’s her fiancee and this would cast a shadow on him as much as on her. Oliver tries to explain and apologise: “I think... well I think that you always knew? We never openly talked about it like this but... I think you did and we had silent agreement that it's fine as long as nobody finds out. I should have realised that, the situation is different now that you lost your memory and all… it was stupid I just... haven't seen Caleb for so long…” Abigail nods and tries to understand as much as she can. According to Oliver, she never really fancied Oliver because she always knew deep inside and didn’t mind. They were always just really good friends and lived in agreement that each of them can do anything, as long as it stays a secret. Abigail in the end nods and agrees to keep it that way. It’s not like she has much of a choice. Just before leaving Oliver whispers: “And if I can be honest with you... No idea where you found him but, oh boy, that butler of yours is hot” Abigail blushes very red: “I know but shut up.” Oliver chuckles and leaves.

Abigail decides that it is time to also deal with the second problem happening at the Brewery. Although still weak, she asks Lucian to gather Kathy and Ambrose and then all four of them set off to travel to Mr. Bowel. During the ride Ambrose takes the place next to Abigail, sitting way closer than necessary and appropriate, his knee brushing hers. He unhappily admits that Lucian had a point during the argument previous day - she’s too unprotected, so he gifts her a richly decorated gun, promising to teach her how to use it later.

After arrival, Ambrose takes Lucian’s spot, helping Abigail out of the carriage and walk, tangling her arm through his so that she can hold onto him for support and making them look like a couple. A warden guides them through the brewery, the stench of beer being brewed smells everywhere. Eventually he brings them to Bowel’s office, introducing them as Mr. Maglocke and his assistants. Bowel greets Ambrose and addresses him as Mr. Maglocke. When Abigail tries to complain that she’s Maglocke, he apologises and bows to her as Ambrose’s wife. She tries to explain but that doesn’t seem to lead anywhere so eventually she gives in and plays along. Ambrose seems very happy with the situation.

Bowel shows them to the basement, Ambrose leading Abigail around as if they really were a couple, while Lucian is working very hard to mask how much he is dying inside. The cellar is very dark, there’s barely any light, rows of barrels stand along both sides. A creature lives there, emptying barrels. Many have tried to get rid of it but every single one of them has come back up crying like a baby and stuttering utter nonsense. Each tells a different tale about what the creature looks like and what happened. He offers a generous reward to Ambrose if he can help him get rid of it, before Abigail can say anything, he shakes Ambrose’s hand and leaves.

The group walks around, trying to investigate the place which is difficult in the darkness. Then also smoke appears, Abigail can hear fire cracking and screams of people in the distance. It’s getting harder to breath, the screams are getting louder. Abigail then tries to get back to the stairs, run away. Eventually she finds her way, Ambrose is panting behind her, Kathy is screaming, hiding her head between her knees: “You monster! Get away from me!” Lucian is standing above her helplessly: “Lady Kathy, please calm down. I am not doing you any harm…” Abigail shoots them a look but instead turns her attention back to the smoke, trying to see through it. She walks slowly towards it. Ambrose shouts after her from the entrance: "No Abby wait! It's dangerous, what if the beast will get you!” Abigail ignores him. Beast? But there’s none? She can hear the screams of her parents behind the smoke. She wants to run after them but… wait she’s in a cellar of a brewery… This can’t be real right? She walks through the smoke again but she can breath now. Flames are forming around but she cannot feel any heat. Suddenly, she can hear shots being fired all around. She spins around and sees Ambrose firing a gun. “No! Stop!”

Ambrose drags Abigail out from the cellar, saying it’s too dangerous in there. Kathy follows them, whimpering, trying to stay away from Lucian, who sadly walks at the end.

#roleplay #rpg #my servant devil #devil #Lucian #session summary #gay

0 notes