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donotalwaysbebatman · 1 year

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Nightwing #105

This whole issue is really gimmick and there isn't a point to it. I know this idiot thought he was really smart for coming up with a concept that was really weird! And no one does that! Yeah, there's a reason no one does this except in porn. What, were you watching porn and you were like, whoo, someone should do a comic of this. Honestly, a porn comic might've been better, because this one had, again, no point.

Here's the thing, Tom. You are a terrible writer and I only read Nightwing to look at him drawn by a very talented artist. You literally made an issue where it was impossible for me to stare at his ass. And if you had a reason for it, if you were using it as a storytelling element, sure, okay, I like experimental stories. This wasn't that. This was just you thinking you were a supergenius for no reason.

Also. The apartment window thing? This is the most parodied thing in all of not only Batfandom, but all of superhero satire. You can't just have people jump out their own window in costume. Have some fucking opsec. At least have a secret elevator up to the roof or something, god fucking damn.

Then he gets a call from his sister. And I'm like Cass! (Or maybe Steph, because Babs is obv already sleeping over.) But it was not Cass. It was the character I thought had been written out of the story and never needs to be mentioned again. Who literally never needed to exist in the first place and legitimately could be replaced with like three sticky notes with one sentence each on them. Because this asshole hates Cass, and doesn't want to acknowledge her existence. For fuck's sake, Dick, at least ask which sister.

Okay, and then he fucking Mansplains trains to Babs??? Like, oh, Barbara, did you know that, in fact, trains move? And she's like, oh, teehee, I didn't, I can't jump, I'm not a trained vigilante like you Nightwing, I need you to teach me how to do basic tricks!!! I almost died teehee teehee! No. Babs is so much better at timing and trajectories than Dick is. She can literally calculate them in her head while she's moving. She doesn't miss. Also what did it add for her to miss? Other than another chance for Tom to show off how much better he thinks men are than women? I swear to fuck this is the most sexist writer at DC.

Unrelated, why the fuck are all the train seats the same weird hot pink color? Usually they're several different colors or uniform gray. What choices is the colorist making here.

Then we have even more sexism. Hurhur a cheating joke! How funny! Literally what is the point of including that? It's funny that Babs doesn't trust Dick or something? Like what exactly is even supposed to be the underlying humor there, that they don't have a healthy relationship and he constantly makes her feel self-conscious and inadequate? That he threatens her in order to coerce her into doing things he wants? Or else that she's asserting that she has control over his body and is trying to curtail his autonomy? Or is it just supposed to be relatable because like. Of course women constantly test their men! That's just what the female species is like! Only misogynists think like that. No, Tom. Skill issue.

Then this thing about reverse engineering vaccines out of someone's bloodstream because they injected themselves. Which I know is this really common trope but it's so stupid and not at all how vaccines work. What's going to be in someone's blood is antibodies. Vaccines aren't made of antibodies. They're made to mimic the original disease in shape. So it's like this: did they inject her with the vaccine, in which case why the fuck don't they remember she has short hair, or did she just get her hands on it, in which case why didn't she just fucking carry it like a reasonable person.

Anyway then it's like 'oh let's switch bodies' and the lady is like. I don't get it. Where will we get a body double who is also athletic and also has red hair. Well, newsflash, lady, 50% of women in DC have red hair. And 98% of them are in the top 2% of athletes worldwide. So. But literally Babs is sitting directly next to her and how stupid does Tom think women are that she wouldn't get that immediately? Or, worse, how stupid does he think the reader is that they need that explained? (I mean, I guess his fans might need that explained.) I hope it's just included because he thinks his fans want to laugh at how stupid women are that they need obvious things explained, because that's honestly less depressing.

So here's my question, why would changing on a giant empty train be awkward? They can go to a different car if they want to. And there are still bathrooms, even if they don't. Or they can just move behind the seats further away. Plus, they're both women, so it's not really awkward for them to change in front of each other; Dick doesn't need to be changing and can just turn around or close his eyes. (The only funny use of the gimmick possible, which they just skipped.) And Dick has already seen Babs naked lots, so why would either of them care? They're all capes. They change en masse all the time. And also there was a whole third outfit that appeared out of fucking nowhere, so they didn't even have to be naked at the same time or do a naked handoff. (Which wouldn't really be naked, because underwear.)

And, really, where did that uniform come from? Did she strip the conductor naked when she threw them off the train? Or does Tom think that people just keep spare clothes on the train like they live there? They change at home like everyone else does for their job. They're not storing spare uniforms in the train closet and, what, sharing them with each other? That's even more annoying than Babs trying to relationship test him again for no fucking reason, what would that even mean? Like, oh, you think the villain outfit is hot, therefore you're basically cheating on me. What fucking logic.

This story is really boring and has no point and wouldn't have been good anyway, but the gimmick is super annoying all the way through, and in parts just makes it hard to read. Also it includes way more mirrors than would actually come up in telling this story in a normal way, just so the artist was allowed to actually draw Nightwing sometimes. This is just a failed attempt at cool artistic choices.

Here's the other question: why would Dick try to go rescue Babs? She can take care of herself. She can take care of their victims, too. His priority should be getting the vaccine to the people who need it (and, also, how can they pay her if the point is they don't have money to pay for the vaccine?) and then sending her sister after her, later, after they do the rescue. Without her. Because why the fuck are they taking her near where the kidnappers who want to kill her are??? Why didn't they just let her get captured and put a tracker on her then? Why bother with deception if not to buy time to get her out of there? Just because Dick needs to prove he's a man, who women of course always need to rescue them?

Or else he could just let her go off and sell her vaccine or whatever she's doing. Instead of having the most fail emotional dialogue ever written. Completely scrubbed of any personality or purpose. Giving no catharsis to either character or the audience. And also I don't care about her or what she's doing, but her motivations would've been a lot more interesting than the conversation they actually had.

Meanwhile, Babs frees herself, of course she does, that's only reasonable, and then Dick is surprised? Why, is he as much of a misogynist as you, Tom? These kidnappers are clearly super incompetent, you really think a trained vigilante with the element of surprise is not going to get the upper hand? She needs you to rescue her because she has an F on her driver's license? And then what was with the bizarre sex banter. That was unnecessary, especially since Dick apparently doesn't even like sex, according to the line he said.

Now the villain - who the editor explained the situation in full to us, on the assumption no one remembers or gives a fuck, which, good on her - is presented as if he's obviously a bad dude because he's a rich guy. Like those are the markers of why you're supposed to distrust him. Only the thing is Dick is also a rich guy. He grew up rich, and now he's a multibillionaire. And that is actually very important to his story, because, if anyone's paying attention, the entire Batman story is about how a) money or power alone is not enough to fix things without enough popular support, and b) even if everyone around you is terrible you can choose to be good, because people are not predestined based on their fucking genetics or whatever. So just relying on stereotypes is so fucking disrespectful to that entire tradition, a tradition where Dick picks up those lessons from his father and applies them to his own life.

There's also an issue where Tom is confusing sociopaths and sadists. Sociopaths are low empathy people who are often willing to hurt people incidentally to achieve their goals, although it is important to note that many people regardless of empathy are willing to dick people over. They hurt animals as children out of curiosity without regard for the harm, not because they seek the harm specifically; they want to perform dissections and learn biology. Sadists, on the other hand, are extremely high empathy, and have an easy time making friends and getting to know people intimately, and don't have the problem of feeling lonely or misunderstood. They manipulate the people around them intuitively, often without even knowing they're doing it, and slowly become abusive. If they're that type, of course; both sadists and sociopaths are almost always very normative people, just like everyone else, and don't do anything notably out of the ordinary. This is such a common error in fiction and it's boring and annoying. Do better. It just makes him the stupidest villain in all of DC, and that's compared to stuff like Packrat and Killer Moth.

"It was 25 minutes." What does that even mean, Dick? How long do you think it takes to legitimately fire someone once you watch the news? Especially if they weren't legally hired in the first place? And you already know they're lying and not being legitimate, so what are you trying to prove? That they're lying? To whom? This literally wouldn't mean they were lying, and also everyone knows they're lying so what exactly is the point. And then he takes the drugged water!

Don't drink that, Dick! Why would you take supervillain water from a supervillain? Why would you take any food or drink you didn't have to, ever, but especially in costume while dealing with ethically sketchy people you know are totally comfortable with murder? He's definitely got tiny nanites in him that are tracking him or trying to rewrite his brain or something now. Or they put LSD in there so they can fuck with him later.

What's with the defense that she's a thief, too - does Tom think if someone's a thief, you're allowed to kidnap them? Thieves have rights and are still protected, so unless it was a citizen's arrest, in which case they would have to say that and wouldn't be allowed to deal with her personally (and would yell that as a defense anyway, not just be like, it's okay she steals stuff)... why would anyone think that was a defense to taking hostages. What does that mean. Shouldn't that tell Dick that they're supervillains and not just asshole CEOs.

Hoho, Dick made a funny, he almost said a bad word! But he didn't! Because he's a pure specimen of ideal manhood, right. First of all, Mr. Wing is a super cute nickname, second, how is Jason Little Wing if Wing is not their shared surname, and third, at least pick a funny insult if you're going to make that joke. Assclown, maybe? That has genre implications. Or canoe, maybe, because it has clear implications but it's also a funny word, even without the Oh No Words in it. Or just call him Mr. Fucker! We'd get it even censored!

Also this is the stupidest ending. Oh look, they resolved stuff, let us inform you of the resolution. I didn't even care while it was happening, Tom, you don't need to spell out all the things that were implied by the fact that the story ended. Why is it interesting they left? Or took a motorcycle? Why is Babs waiting? Doesn't she have better things to do? I did. But I read this comic anyway.

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thattimdrakeguy · 3 years

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Why Tim Drake’s story in URBAN LEGENDS #4 is so GOOD, and a return to form for Tim Drake. (And not just for THAT reason, but also YES THAT REASON!)

IT’S ACTUALLY A GOOD TIM DRAKE COMIC!!!

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I think just about every Tim Drake fan knows that it’s been a while since Tim Drake has felt like himself. There’s multiple different opinions on when he stopped being himself, but most people agree that it has been a while.

There’s been peaks at a return to quality for Timmy, but, they’ve never really hit the mark. And least for now.

Because for ME, and I can only speak for myself, this story feels so important for more than one reason. One reason is obvious and shared, but a lot of the reason why I love it is just that it feels like a Tim adventure again. It felt like Tim Drake was back in a Tim Drake comic and not a generic tale they put his name in.

And it feels like a Tim comic just right off the back by looking at him. I mean, seriously, JUST LOOK AT HIM!

LOOK AT THIS KID. I wouldn’t need that costume to tell that’s Tim because that’s just his face! That’s his most iconic hair, his button nose, his cheeks, cheek bones, his general face shape, his big eyes! That’s the face George Perez designed him to have in his first appearance (well first main appearance on panel anyways)! Obviously he’s older now, but that doesn’t mean Tim shouldn’t be recognizable! Three years older in the new timeline (well, sort of new.) but he still looks Timmy as ever!

And that’s just amazing and makes my heart mushy on it’s own.

This is what actually got me excited about the story, because it’s rare for an artist to even care about drawing Tim’s features. So he just never winds up looking like himself. They just draw someone generic and give him his costume, and write someone generic, or who’s basically an O.C with his name. Which isn’t good character writing.

But just having him be drawn right isn’t the only reason I think it’s good, it’s because he’s WRITTEN WELL ON TOP OF THAT. I would always appreciate a good well drawn Tim, but a well written one too? That’s just the cake, that you put the icing that his appearance onto to make a really good Tim story.

And I’ll start at the beginning to be more organizational before I get too messy! There’s a lot to talk about here!

Tim is Robin in this story! And says he’ll be Robin when he’s not with Damian! So this is a Timmy that loves and only wants to be Robin mainly when he feels he can. Now that’s a Timmy move.

But again that isn’t just it. This isn’t something I saw two things for and thought “YES THIS IS THE PERFECT STORY”, because that wouldn’t be good enough. I don’t like DC Comics being cheap and just using fan service to try and act like they know the characters. This story, as short as it is, continues being good, because IT KEEPS IT UP. He keeps feeling like Tim Drake the whole time.

This isn’t a kid that’s a natural at the job. Tim Drake was never intended to be a Gary Stu, or master of it all. This isn’t a kid that was suddenly given talents equal to the masters that have been training while Tim was still learning how to enunciating his words. This is a kid that’s been training for three years, didn’t start off as good as the others, doing his best, and managing his goals, but with a bit of struggle, even sometimes on the little things.

That’s what made Tim Drake so lovable to begin with! He wasn’t perfect! He wasn’t overly skilled! He was just doing his best! And that’s Tim this whole story!

He’s also insecure about himself. Another Tim Drake classic trait. While we’ve gotten overly confident Tim’s, arrogant Tim’s for the past decade or so. Using his unusually over the top talents to prove just how great he is. This takes Tim back to how he was at the peak of his popularity, while furthering his journey naturally! They use the kind of character he was made to be instead of continuing with Tim’s that destroyed the point of him, and continuing the reign of out of character Tim stories.

(Couldn’t find a place to put this, but legitimately the only bad characterization is making Tim a bit TOO good at computers again. But it is with Babs, and he is a hacker. So it’s not too bad compared to others out there when they write Tim.)

And I want you to take the word of Tim’s longest lasting writer that did Tim’s most iconic run, from an interview he was involved in while he was still writing the character! Since, I just wanna show that I really really do think this is the best Tim Drake story since--gosh, maybe 2000? 2002? I really do think it’s that great.

Isn’t that literally exactly what we’re getting here? Like no doubts about it. This is Tim’s characterization back, and it’s not like “Haha we added references in here!” laziness. They’re doing the work. They’re writing Tim as Tim!

And I will admit, there are something's in here I just like, because, well, they’re things that I think should’ve already happened.

Tim’s “ex” who is his ex? Well, that would be Steph in this context.

And I know that some people really like Tim and Steph together, but--to me they’re a relationship that people would hate if they just switched their genders. Steph would flirt with Tim so much even after she knew he had a girlfriend to the point it was just plain sexual harassment, and even played dead just so he’d give her CPR to force a kiss on him. And pinned him down during a gunfight on another time just to kiss him. Plus the gaslighting and treatment that was just...uncomfortable. Stuff that you’d never let a boy get away with on a girl. So I just think they weren’t a good couple, and were forced to begin with.

Cause like, even Tim was passive aggressive to her. Neither one of them were complete saints here. Tim would be dismissive and they’d just be a bad couple...

Does it make Steph a bad character? No. I think she could be great, and characters don’t need to be moral saints. But that relationship they had together held both of them back as far as how I feel.

And another thing to notice on that page that makes this issue so special is that...Tim thinks he might be queer, and this is not even subtext (at least to me). I see some saying it’s subtext. And sure it might not be said outright. But I feel like for it to be subtext it has to not be insanely obvious what they’re going for. There’s nothing else they could really mean here.

Which makes this great and a potential beginning of a monumental thing in Tim’s history. They might be finally revealing that Tim’s gay. Something people have assumed since the 90s just by his actions and behavior.

He couldn’t always tell when a girl was hitting on him, he’d be convinced he wanted to date a girl because he just liked hanging out with her more--that’s actually the reason why he even dated Steph--

he looked like this when getting a kiss half the time--

And he’s always treated his girlfriend’s the same as his best friends, to the point he will literally call when he goes out dates with his boy friends dates.

He once got told to grow a hormone cause he wasn’t attracted to girls being naked, or seemingly in-general implying that Tim’s like that a lot. And it’s even said that Tim apparently really doesn’t even like the thought when he doesn’t have to see it-- (Tim doesn’t like playboys. That’s actually a thing. If I find the panel I’m adding it. I thought I had it saved but I didn’t, but I know the comic.)

(It’s an immediate reaction to seeing naked robot versions of his teammates, but Conner’s wording implies he’s like this in-general with this. and doesn’t show any attraction towards girls. So it still adds to his coding strongly.)

(I looked for the playboy thing, but that didn’t go how I think, and more just implied he doesn’t like how they objectify women. So that doesn’t count towards anything, but still. I’ll take the L on that one lol.)

He can’t tell when he’s being flirted with by girls.

Even when he does act attracted to girls, most of the time he just likes their perfume and he acts like he must be attracted to the whole women.

(And sure there are times when Tim seemed pretty forwardly attracted to women, but in my experience...they don’t come from writers that really understand Tim in general. Like for me, I see a writer that can’t get their basic personality and I just don’t care. FabNic had Steph blow Tim up for the weakest reasons, wrote the worst Damian story, and implied Tim might kill people. He’s just...yikes. Think of Bobby Drake, really. Lots of gay coding despite dating girls and seeming into them, and became gay, because, well, his coding was gay related.)

Tim’s actions and way of being are things that a lot of gay kids, especially around Tim’s age has gone through and relate to. So to see them actually go further into the gay coding and have Tim actually be a member of the LGBT community is a glorious addition to Tim.

Cause this isn’t something that has came out of no where, it’s something that came out of no where. If they do decide to just outright say Tim is gay, then there’s stuff that gay kids like him can relate to in his past comics. And of course he was intended to be straight...Chuck Dixon is a notorious homophobe. But this is fiction, and when in modern times, things change, and a character like Tim lines himself up so well, there’s no reason not to.

So Tim gets himself dressed up in Dick’s clothes--

--that he can’t even fit in, which I love, because it continues the Timmy is small jokes that haven’t been seen in quite a while (I believe 2015 to 2016. Surprisingly yes, there were some in the New 52.). So even though that one is minor, it’s the little things that adds up that help it feel like an actual Tim story.

Oh, and how could I forget, the important part, the part people love this story for--

Tim goes on a date with a boy.

The artist even more or less confirming that it was indeed a date.

(Also thank you Belén Ortega for drawing the best Tim in over a decade.)

And Bernard brings up playing video games with Timmy like a couple of geeks.

And then the cliffhanger strikes after a fight with LITERAL CHAOS!!!

There’s a lot in-between and during the date that I don’t wanna show, because I don’t want to show everything. I want you guys to buy this comic because it deserves to be bought, because as it seems now. It’s a lovely wonderful story.

It’s a story not only wonderful because it pretty much confirms Tim is queer, but also because it just gets so much about Tim correct that it feels like a miracle that we managed to get this story.

This looks like Tim, acts like Tim, and it furthers a story in a way that’s modern and fits in with his coding.

What more can you ask for with a story like this? It’s the sort of thing I think a lot of people were dreaming for, but never thought they would get in the current climate of DC Comics. Where normally fan service is shallow and simply pandering.

While you could consider Tim going on a date with a boy fan service--it’s fan service that works. That’s the good fan service that should be in stories, because this isn’t anything hallow or empty. It feels real and genuine and actually works as a real continuation of Tim’s story.

This story is a blessing.

And I’d like to thank the whole crew who worked on it for putting it together!

Meghan Fitzmartin wrote a great Tim Drake story, Belen Ortega drew a great Tim Drake, Alejandro Sanchez is my favorite colorists and I didn’t realize he was working on the story till now but I’m gonna gush about him because I always love his choice of colors and should’ve known this was his work. And the rest of the team for helping put it together.

It’s a great Tim Drake story.

And it deserves to be bought.

The characterization, the artistry, the representation. It really is beautiful.

#Tim Drake #Robin #DC Comics #Meghan Fitzmartin #Belén Ortega #Belen Ortega #Alejandro Sanchez #Review #Comic review #Comic Book Review #Urban Legends 4 Review #Batman Urban Legends 4 #LGBT+#Gay #Gay Pride #I love this story so much already

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1kook · 4 years

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commercial break; SEVEN

this is part of my netflix & chill series ! happens a few months before part 7

summary; And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. warnings; horny jk, jk wants to roleplay... everyone point n laugh, mentions of his impreg kink lol, making out, tits, honestly jk is just very horny n in love lol, jk in a vampire costume w fangs O_o rating; mature (18+) wc; 2k

notes; if u don’t know who lindsay is first of all ur sick, second of all here’s my queen’s top moments. also i just gotta say, this was originally gonna be a larger fic (a halloween special) for my ncouple, but i got a lil busy with school n ultimately didn't have time to invest in this as a whole installment so..... enjoy this commercial break instead!!

Jungkook loves Halloween.

He loves the pumpkin carving and the decorating. Loves the spooky music and the abundance of candy. He loves it, absolutely adores it, and for the second year in a row, he gets to spend it with you! Yet another person he loves very much.

He doesn’t remember ever being this excited for Halloween. Last year, you had roped him into going to some frat party with him, had egged him on, begged so cutely that it was your last year in college, baby until he caved. The two of you had spent the night drinking until you blacked out, Ubering home with your costumes half on, and then unceremoniously fucking in his living room with the blinds wide open.

(The next neighborhood meeting had been very awkward for Jungkook.)

It was his first time ever drinking with you like that, and he vaguely remembers, through his own drunken gaze, how cool you had been. Had absolutely owned a bunch of greasy football players at beer pong in your little sexy nurse costume. And when the crowd cheered your name, shrieked in awe, it had been him that you turned to for praise. “Did you see me, baby,” you had giggled, crowded him against the wall of this random house until Jungkook was sweating profusely. In lieu of a costume, he had worn a silly jogger set with a skeleton design that was supposed to glow in the dark, according to Amazon. You had told him he looked adorable, had kissed and squeezed his cheeks until Jungkook was a flustered mess.

It was still early into your relationship— if Jungkook did the math, you were only about five months in at that point —so he didn’t know how else to cope with the rapid thundering of his heart, the confession sitting on his tongue, the then scary L-word begging to be heard. So, he took you home and fucked you until your little nurse cap slid off your head and you were begging for him to let you cum, thus earning him his first ever offense for violating the neighborhood rules (i.e., traumatizing a group of middle schoolers by fucking in plain sight).

Long story short, Jungkook loves Halloween, and he loves it even more when he gets to spend it with you.

(He’ll never admit it, but he’s a hard romantic. He wants to do cheesy things with you, like cuddle you into his arms when you get scared, pat your head until you can look at whatever is happening on screen again. He wants you to feel safe in his arms, wants to be your refuge when things become too much. He likes to think he’s done a pretty good job so far.)

Jungkook’s plan goes like this:

First, welcome you with that Halloween basket you’ve been sending him tweet links about all month. The cute little Jack-O-lantern candy bucket stuffed with candy and hair ties and a soft Halloween themed blanket. It’s so cheesy, makes him blush when he catches sight of it in his closet, but Jungkook will do anything to please you.

Next, after presenting you with your Halloween gift and having you coo and tell him he’s a good boy, he’ll invite you to break your new soft blanket in. The living room will be prepared with an assortment of your favorite foods, the flat screen ready to play whatever horror movie the two of you settle on.

And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare.

It’s a perfect plan.

It’s the best way to spend his favorite holiday, with his favorite girl by his side and some of his favorite horror films on the big screen. Jungkook spends all of October geeked up for it, even considers hanging up lights around the living room to really set the mood. He’s so excited, can’t wait to spend another wonderful holiday at home with you, that he doesn’t fully realize why you haven’t brought up the long awaited topic of costumes.

“You like?” you ask, standing at the door of his bathroom with a sultry look in your eye, tits practically pouring out of the tight top you’ve wiggled into, skin oiled up scandalously. He fumbles with the fake vampire fang prosthetics he’d been trying to glue in for the better half of an hour.

He had heard the door open downstairs when you got here, had called out his mandatory greeting as he heard you come up the stairs. But none of that had prepared him for the sight of you in… whatever this was.

Jungkook doesn’t really understand exactly what you’re supposed to be dressed up as until the two of you are back downstairs—blinds drawn, full moon slipping in through the cracks—with some random horror movie pulled up on the TV. “I’m Lindsey,” you whine, brand new fluffy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It shields your boobs from view, but he’s not sure if that’s a win or a loss. “From Total Drama Island!”

He settles in beside you, doesn’t get too comfortable because it’s nearing sundown now and he knows the herds of children are bound to start flowing in. “Uh huh,” he says mindlessly. His collar feels itchy, the overly-detailed vampire costume he meticulously scoured the internet for being one size too small. You snuggle into his side anyway.

“You don’t know anything about cinematic masterpieces,” you frown, avidly tuned into The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, because apparently you love horror movies all of a sudden, a fact that genuinely throws Jungkook off. He’s not sure what it is about you that had deluded him into thinking you would be a scaredy cat, but he doesn’t take the new bit of information too hard.

The doorbell rings right as the first gorey scene ends and you make a big show of huffing and whining as he rushes to answer it. But it’s only the beginning of the long night that awaits, and, as Jungkook comes to find, running back and forth from the door to the couch is harder than it seems.

Anyway, Jungkook’s neighborhood is a little posh, or ‘bougie’ as you like to claim, and trick-or-treating hours end a little before eleven pm. By then he’s tired, having refused your offer to switch places in fear that your boob might fall out of that scrap of fabric you call a top and earn him his second neighborly offense.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to your boobs falling out in private.

“Stupid,” you giggle when he gets caught in his long cape, the sound slowly melting into a whimper as he slips his hands beneath your top, fighting with the ridiculous push-up bra you’ve donned tonight. Hands tangle in his hair, mess up the careful side part he’d styled up for tonight, and legs lock around his waist. “Your curtains closed?” you tease.

He huffs, catches your chatty lips with his roughly, presses and presses until your mouth must bruise. He belatedly remembers about those sharp fangs he’d glued on—hey, if he was going to dress up as some gaudy monster it might as well be realistic—and doesn’t realize until he tries to bite your neck and you let out a little yelp. Truthfully, he feels bad right away, but then you’re practically dissolving in his arms so he plays along. “Shh,” he hisses.

The roar of a chainsaw and terrified screams fill the living room, almost drowning out the soft sounds you release by his ear. “O- Or what?” you pant, flinch when he pushes your sad excuse of a skirt up over your waist. “Gonna b- bite me?”

And so Jungkook does.

You shriek. “That hurts, you idiot!” you scold with a tiny whine in your voice, but Jungkook’s cock is so hard. Your tiny, tight outfit does you no favors. Tits in his face, tiny thong against his bulge. He wants to make you sob, litter bites and marks all over your skin until his love makes you ache. You must see the crazed look in his eyes, because you drop the scowl. “Hey,” you say slowly, hand on his chest. “You look like you’re gonna eat me.”

He lets go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He wonders if you can feel his thundering heart beneath your palm. “Fuck,” he sighs, leaning away to regain his senses. Was it something in the air? Was it the fatigue? The full moon? Why did he want to fold you in half and fuck his cock into you until you were a crying, shivering mess? Something about you tonight, laid out for him to take, makes him feel absolutely insane. Starved and psycho; he just wants to take and take until you don’t have anything more to give. He purses his lips, tries to ignore the hot feeling in his lower abdomen when your hardened nipples register to his eyes. “I think I’m becoming evil.”

Of all the idiotic things his brain can come up with, this one is definitely top five. His cheeks flush right after, fueled by the boisterous laughter that escapes your lips at his statement. “Oh my god,” you gasp in glee, hands falling down beside your head. “You’re becoming evil?’

Jungkook frowns, flopping down on top of you to hide the embarrassment that paints his face. “Shut up,” he mumbles against your neck, warm and safe.

A hand cards through the back of his hair, nails dig lightly into his scalp. “Aren’t you the cutest little vampire,” you coo, seemingly ignoring the rock hard cock Jungkook presses against your thigh. He’s still so horny, has this sick thought that he could just pin you down right here, tear that silly costume to shreds and swallow you up in his lust. But your voice is so sweet, has his eyes fluttering shut as you gather him in his arms. “Silly vampire,” you hum, one leg thrown around his hip, a subtle roll of you hips up into him.

Jungkook huffs, licks a flat strip along the base of your neck. It draws a shaky exhale from you, has your hands digging into his back when he begins to slowly lap against the skin, nibble and tug until your back is deliciously arching up into him. “Wanna push you down,” he confesses quietly, hands securing themselves against your hips as he leans back. You're all dazed, eyes trained on his fanged mouth when he hesitantly adds, “l- little human.”

You could laugh, tease him for his sudden weird need to role play with you, but you don’t. A look of understanding crosses your face, sly smirk slowly following. “Oh?” you grin, hand coming around to cup his cheek. “The little vampire wants to use my body?” Jungkook tightens his jaw at your jab, but nods nonetheless.

You’re a feast before his eyes. Boobs in his face, pussy begging to be filled. You’re his, just like Jungkook is yours. And when you indulge him and his stupid whims—kinks, he should say, occasional interests that sometimes make him question himself—his heart feels warm and full. Proud and unashamed, like the truest version of himself when you look at him with those eyes. And your words only confirm it.

Your hands reach down for your top, pull the flimsy material over your head in one swoop that has your bra coming off with it. It drops to the floor. If it makes a sound, Jungkook doesn’t hear it over the shrieks of terror on screen. the blood deaths, the suspenseful music. All he hears is he hammering of his heart.

It’s two of your sneaky fingers that come up to play, pinch one nipple tenderly as you meet his eyes. “It’s all yours,” you purr. “I’m all yours.”

And the thirst he feels, well. It’s a little vampiric, to say the least.

—

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jeongguk smut #mine

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

@hood-ex

Okay but re: the subject of wingfic.....picture this....His Dark Materials style AU where instead of kids having daemons who shapeshift until they settle, kids have wings that are constantly shifting and trying out new forms until they settle.

And maybe Dick’s generation is the first one to have this.....like, the DC multiverse is constantly having these universe-altering Crises, that are all metaphysical and unleash and reshape cosmic and universal creation energies....and early in Dick’s tenure as Robin, let’s say the DC multiverse undergoes a Crisis whose resolution has an unexpected side-effect.....at that point forward, teens begin manifesting their like, soul or whatever, in physical or metaphysical form, in the shape of wings.

They first pop up around when kids start entering puberty, and tend to settle around them kinda ‘finding themselves’ as adults....and we’re not talking just bird-type wings. Wings of any kind, any shape, any material. They’re described as ‘metanatomy’ not in the sense of metas having altered anatomy but more in the sense of how metaphysical relates to physical.....these wings don’t have to prescribe to any biological or anatomical rules because they’re not biological in nature. Kory’s people describe the wings as a child’s ‘over-soul’ - a manifestation of their fundamental, individualized essence that’s overlaid on top of their physical self.

So, many wings are bird-like in nature, physically capable of being touched, damaged, healed, etc....but just as many are batlike or dragon-like, they can be just wing-shaped and made of fire, they can be mechanical appearing or insectoid or pretty much anything. There was a period when Dick was around fourteen when his wings were just wispy wing-shaped stormclouds behind him, lightning constantly flickering up and down their lengths as though it were the wings’ veins.....another period where they were just giant sweeping shadows behind him that he could nevertheless fly with, and while he was Robin, they most consistently manifested as bright, gleaming swaths of luminescence that glowed as though they constantly had spotlights trained on them.

(Which had Bruce paranoid it would just make Dick an easy target, until they realized that a ‘side-effect’ of Dick’s wings when they looked like this was instead of making it easier for the bad guys to train their weapons on him, even the most hardened villains would find themselves hesitating to pull the trigger. Some kind of pulsating, emotion-laced effect of those wings drawing their attention was it was more like moths drawn to a flame....they were so busy being momentarily entranced or hypnotized by the spectacle of them that they were usually a second too late in actually firing....by which time Dick was in a position to strike them first. Well, at least that’s how it went until the Joker managed a lucky shot anyway. But then, when isn’t that asshole an exception to the rules?)

Some wings had little quirks or fringe effects that went with them taking on a certain form or appearance....though those didn’t tend to stick around when the wings shifted to a different appearance, unless a person’s wings settled in the shape a particular fringe effect was associated with. Like when Roy hit adulthood, his wings settled in the appearance of bright red feathered wings with black accents......his wings are fairly small and not suited for long range flight, or even flight in general, as they tend to be more useful in helping him glide in short, quick spurts. But they also come with a perk unique to him....when Roy uses his own feathers to fletch his arrows, those arrows never ever miss.

In adulthood, Donna’s wings settle as giant bird-like wings, all black feathers with silver specks of stars scattered all across them, same as her Troia costume. They’re like patches of night sky sliced straight out of the heavens, and when Donna’s in costume she’s impossible to see cutting through the dark. Her huge sweeping wings would cast an easily noticed shadow over the ground if not for the silver specks dotting her feathers, but thanks to those, by the time she’s close enough for you to make out her features, distinct from the night sky, its far too late to do anything but go oh fuck.

Wally’s wings are more of a presence than a visual. Hummingbird type things that match his speed but never manage his stillness. Beating at the air a furious several hundred wingflaps per second, so even when he’s standing still he’s far from motionless....the air around him thrumming with movement, humming with vibrations that make it look like he’s constantly surrounded by shimmering ribbons of heat baking off an asphalt pavement. And again, that’s when he’s just standing still. When he actually gets agitated, they hit the air like a thunderclap. Sparks shooting up from the points of contact as the friction of them is so fast and furious it ionizes the atmosphere around him all on its own.

Garth’s can be a bit unwieldy when on the surface, but in the water they make him glide faster and smoother than any Atlantean before him. Stretching out from torso to underarms like the wings of a manta ray, they’re black and gray and streaked with purple like his eyes and the tattoo around it, just inverted. The material of them thick and coarse enough that when he flings his arms out or wrapped around himself just so, the folds of his wings draped around him create a dense barrier capable of shrugging off any number of projectile impacts.

Vic’s are mechanical marvels, smooth and sleek metallic expanses that aren’t dissimilar to Marvel’s Archangel, but where Warren’s feathers are knife-like flechettes, Vic’s host a variety of sensory arrays and feed him all sorts of data. Gar’s never fully settle....they shift as often as he does, sometimes vast and feathered, sometimes batlike and leathery....always green though, and always there no matter what animal he shifts into. He’s never a snake so much as a feathered serpent, a pegasus instead of a horse, a manticore instead of a mere lion, and well, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen Beast Boy take to the streets of Manhattan as a T-Rex with giant pterodactyl wings. Why his wings never fully settle could be due to his shape-shifting or it could just be in his nature.....Gar’s the original Lost Boy who’ll never FULLY grow up.

Raven’s are purple and black on the outside but bone-white on the inside.....like her empathy, they cut both ways. When she pulls her wings tight around her and someone else like a protective shroud, they can shield her and those in her care from prying eyes and scrying magic....when she throws them wide and strikes out with them at enemies on either side, the touch of her feathers is like feeling the cold of the grave. Kory’s are a deeper, royal purple juxtaposed beside Raven’s shadowed inky violets.....but rather than feathered, Kory’s are tall and draconian, imperious and imposing canvases adorned with swirls of red and green like nebulas painted across a cosmic backdrop. Curling emerald flames lick around the edges of them just like her starfire sometimes dances through her hair.....even when ‘ablaze’ her wings are cool to the touch if she invites you to touch them, but touch them uninvited and you’re going to get burned. Badly.

Lilith’s are four enormous feathered wings of green and gold and black spread behind her like the many layered wings of a seraph. They’re decorated in various places with dark concentric circles like those found on peacock feathers....until those circles flare and open wide and you realize you’re staring at dozens of eyes that are all looking back at you.....each a window to your own soul, freezing you in place with a glimpse of your own darkest secrets or possible destiny.

Joey’s are many-hued mosaics, like wings made of stained-glass windows. Hazy and indistinct shafts of rainbow light slanting through his varied ‘feathers’ when he spreads his wings in the air behind him.....like viewing screens or windows they show glimpses, afterimages of everyone he’s ever joined his soul to when riding shotgun in their bodies.....making them forever a part of him, a link he can tap into at will and rendering his power less about possession and more about connection, a forever-door that lets him merge with one of his previously tethered-to teammates, no matter where they are in relation to him. But with the slight change that now what he makes up for in range, he loses in stealth, as his wings show up behind the body of his ‘host’ for as long as he remains merged with them.

And Dick’s wings finally settle in adulthood to sweeping feathered wings of blue and indigo banded with gold.....but where his presence is less attention-commanding than in his younger years, his impact is definitely felt. As his settled wings act as an epicenter for a kind of gravitational bubble around him that’s keyed to his mood.....when he’s lighthearted and in high spirits, everyone around him feels a little bit lighter, purely in a physical sense, gravity within his sphere of influence being a little less heavy, leaving his friends and teammates a little lighter on their feet, quicker in their reactions, etc, etc. When he’s feeling heavy though, his immediate environs feel it with him - though that’s not always the worst result when surrounded by enemies he’s better off having feel overburdened, weighed down, like they’re struggling to get to their feet and the air itself is sitting a little heavier in their lungs every time they take a breath.

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 4

Hiya @pocketramblr

While the other ghosts watched poor Izuku more and more, Yoichi gathered a pile of pillows and beanbags, and a small container of popcorn, then dropped unceremoniously onto the pile, ready to watch a bunch of teens beat the tar out of each other. En noticed this, glanced at him, and did a double-take.

"Since when do you have popcorn? How do you have popcorn? Where did you get it? Have you been holding out on me? Can I have some? I'll fight you!"

"Uh... it isn't real," said Yoichi.

"Neither are we!"

"No, I mean, you can't taste it. Or smell it. It's just a construct. For the aesthetic." Something none of them really bothered with, lately, but Yoichi wanted to put the effort in for Izuku. Even if Izuku probably would never be aware of it.

"But... popcorn..."

"Shhh! It's starting!"

The first round was Kouda and Satou vs Yaoyorzu and Kirishima.

If he had to guess, he'd say Yaoyorozu and Kirishima would win. Yaoyorozu's quirk was perfect for setting up quick and simple barriers and traps, and Kirishima's was good for defense as well.

That wasn't to say Kouda and Satou couldn't win as well... Satou had what seemed to be a fairly powerful strength enhancer, perfect for ripping through hastily constructed defenses, and Izuku didn't know if Kirishima would be able to completely counter him.

Izuku also wasn't entirely sure what Kouda's quirk was. His first guess would have been a physical mutation, given his appearance, but thinking back, it didn't seem like he'd used anything like that during the quirk assessment, so those features were most likely vestigial, like Izuku's hair color, which suggested a less physical quirk. It had to be something that could be applied in combat against robots, though. Izuku was the only one who'd passed without villain points.

So, it could go either way.

He could continue to analyze, but his attention was drawn back to the team he'd be facing. Hagakure and Monoma.

A blush rose up in his cheeks. It had to be Hagakure. He still hadn't apologized for running into her during the entrance exam. Hand to hand against her was going to be tough- he could only hope the support department had given her an invisible costume, and she wasn't... well... uncostumed. Again.

But, beyond that, not being able to see her would be a problem. She could get to the fake bomb without him even noticing.

Monoma would be a challenge, too. Given the number of pocket watches on his costume, Izuku suspected he had a time limit for how long he could copy a quirk. But he had no idea how long that could be, and it could be misdirection, too. Izuku certainly wouldn't want to telegraph a weakness like that if he had that kind of quirk.

Another option could be that he could only hold one quirk copy at a time. That'd be trickier for Izuku to deal with. Either way, he doubted Monoma could permanently hold an unlimited number of quirk copies. Monoma's personality was all wrong for that, and he didn't have Iida's engines anymore- unless he could choose to dump quirks? But why would he do that? Izuku's (formerly) quirkless sensibilities rebelled against the very thought.

He was overthinking this. He'd have to assume that Monoma could come at him with any quirk in the class. So. What would be the most inconvenient? All Might's, except Izuku had All Might's, and Monoma wasn't able to use it.

(Oh, and that could be a problem, couldn't it? Could Monoma be able to tell All Might didn't have a quirk anymore?)

Well, judging from what he was seeing right now, Izuku really didn't want him to take Yaoyorozu's quirk. It was sort of terrifying.

Other scary ones would be Todoroki (he'd launched that ball with a glacier) and Tokoyami (a sentient quirk! So cool!) but he thought Monoma would avoid Shouji and Asui (full body mutations). Other than that... Monoma would probably wait and see who did the best, or which quirk would work best with Hagakure's.

He'd have to take Hagakure's quirk into account, too. What if they both came at him invisibly (and naked)? Izuku would die...

Each battle lasted for up to fifteen minutes, not counting the ten minutes the villain team had to set up. That's how long Izuku had to defend the fake bomb. As the defender, Izuku had another handicap. He only had to fail once to fail entirely...

No. Stop that. This was a school exercise, and All Might wasn't going to expell him. Losing would suck, but he'd be together with half the class on that front. The important thing was learning from the experience. And not getting too hurt.

Right. He returned his gaze to the screen as the match started.

"We're a sentient quirk, too," said Banjo. "Aren't we cool?"

"He doesn't know we're sentient, though," said Yoichi. "Also, he spent like two months straight gushing about how cool One for All was when we were with Eighth. Didn't you get enough?"

Banjo sulked. "It isn't the same."

"Speaking of Monoma," said En, "why didn't you slap his little grabby hands away from One for All yesterday?"

"Because a late bloomer is one thing, but someone confirmed not to have a quirk suddenly having bone-breaking super strength? Yeah. No. Yagi might have beaten my brother, but that doesn't mean everyone who worked for him is gone. Eight never knew about Garaki at all."

"Way to bring down the mood, En," said Banjo, elbowing the younger ghost.

"The mood was already brought down by the fake popcorn."

Izuku wrote furiously in his notebook, trying to record every detail of the match. He pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth to get a better grip on his pencil. He'd need to practice writing with gloves on. He was missing important notes. Speaking of which...

"Can we get copies of these recordings?"

"You should be able to access them through your Ultra Account on the school website!"

Izuku nodded and continued writing. As expected, Kirishima and Satou had gotten into a one on one fight down the hallway from the bomb room. Unexpectedly, however, they had seemed rather hesitant to hit each other. At least, until Satou dumped a packet of white powder (sugar according to All Might) into his mouth and started smacking at Kirishima indiscriminately. Kouda, meanwhile, had sent a small army of mice (animal control! Very cool) at Yaoyorozu, who had responded with mousetraps.

The clock ran out, to the villains' victory.

"It was surprisingly hard to hit someone," admitted Kirishima in the debrief.

"We've been socialized to avoid violence," said All Might, nodding. "Overcoming that hesitation is part of our training. As is when not to use force."

Next up were Kaminari and Sero vs Aoyama and Jirou.

Kaminari entered the building first, quickly engaging Aoyama, who had been directed towards Kaminari by Jirou. That fight got loud quickly. Sero, meanwhile, scaled the outside of the building with his tape.

Kaminari ultimately defeated himself with his own quirk (that was a pretty severe drawback- maybe Kaminari should consider other fighting styles?), which allowed Jirou to hear Sero climbing up the wall. But Aoyama couldn't get back fast enough to prevent Jirou from being captured by Sero.

"I think Kaminari was the MVP," said Izuku. "He did hurt himself, which was bad, but his sacrifice allowed his teammate to safely reach the objective. If he hadn't, um, shorted out...? It would have been better, of course, but..."

Yaoyorozu shook her head. "Sero managed to capture one of the villains and safely reach the bomb. Additionally, he's the one who came up with the plan of attack."

"Ah," said Izuku, "that's- that's true..."

"Regardless, it is a plan that only bore fruit due to teamwork! Excellent work! Jirou, Aoyama, your division of labor was also a good plan, but don't forget the enemies you don't see! Time for our next match!"

This time, Asui and Tokoyami were defending against Todoroki and Uraraka.

"Good luck," Izuku said, waving slightly to Uraraka.

"Thanks!" She gave him two thumbs up as she trailed slightly behind Todoroki. "So," she said, as they walked out through the door, "how are we doing-?"

The door closed. Izuku winced. Surely, they had strategized beforehand...

"Young Todoroki," said All Might, somewhat sternly, "you... that was certainly an impressive display, but even when dealing with real villains, a hero has to be conscious of the damage they may do. A large number of villains are only minor criminals, or even otherwise ordinary citizens having a bad day."

"That's not what the media says," mumbled Todoroki, though he looked pale as medi-bots carried Asui from the scene.

"The media is full of sensationalists. And even if it weren't, Asui isn't a real villain. There is a difference," he said, very gently, "between going beyond and going too far."

All Might paused. Todoroki hunched his shoulders. There was something familiar about his posture, something that made Izuku's stomach knot.

All Might continued. "It was a good strategy. Against another team, or against real villains, it would have been a more than appropriate strategy. In fact, it was even an appropriate strategy in this case, since you didn't know Asui had trouble with cold temperatures. But when you encountered her in the hall and noticed how poorly she was doing, you should have hit the emergency stop button."

Instead of laying down mode ice when Asui struggled to get free, which was what actually happened.

"Why didn't you stop the match?" He didn't sound accusatory. Just flat and resigned.

All Might made a face and gestured to the screens on the wall. About half of them showed static and the rest blurry shades of white and gray. Like the rest of the building, they had been iced over.

Todoroki sighed. "How much trouble am I in?"

"You aren't," replied All Might. "In trouble, that is. As your teacher, this is entirely my responsibility. I shouldn't have set you against Asui or should have gone over safety concerns more clearly..." All Might paused, his face that of someone who knew they weren't getting their point across but didn't quite know what the problem was. "Injuries are inevitable in heroics and hero training, but you don't want to maim your classmates. Or minor villains, really, if you can help it. So... consider this a learning moment."

"But it was just ice," said Kaminari.

"Cold kills people frequently," said All Might. "People lose fingers and toes to frostbite regularly. Again, for anyone but Asui, this level of ice for such a short time period wouldn't have caused lasting damage, but it is something to be mindful of. Does... that make sense, young Todoroki?"

"Yes," said Todoroki, head bowed.

"All right. Young Uraraka, thank you for hitting the emergency stop button. It showed good thinking and good awareness. Young Tokoyami, your decision to hide the bomb in the basement was a good one, complimentary to your quirk."

Izuku glanced over at Monoma. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what quirk he would copy.

After moving to a new building, Iida and Ashido managed to pull a win as heroes from Ojiro and Shouji by melting a hole in the ceiling above the bomb and then jumping through to tag it after Iida confirmed its location with a scouting run. The general consensus of the class was that it was surprisingly clever and out of the box, but that it probably wouldn't have been feasible in real life. Ashido had then sheepishly admitted that she'd come up with the idea after hearing Izuku mumble about it.

This, of course, made Izuku blush. Strawberry would probably bee his nickname from now on.

Better than Deku.

It was his turn to go set up, now.

He was unlikely to be able to beat Hagakure and Monoma at the same time, even if Monoma didn't copy any quirks at all. Assuming they didn't split up, a ridiculous course of action, he'd have to find a way to protect the bomb other than physically defending it.

This was the problem that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

He had to hide it. Then, he either had to hide himself or use his location to steer them away from where the bomb really was. His capture would also lose him the match, so he had to be careful.

He carried the bomb to the top floor. Uraraka's quirk could get them up there, but Izuku didn't think Monoma could handle the nausea. And if he did have a time limit, he wouldn't want to be airborne when it ran out. Sero had demonstrated his quirk could get him up the side of the building, but that had clearly also required a lot of skill in climbing, not just the quirk itself.

Iida's quirk would get Monoma to the top of the building fast, but since he'd have to go room by room... Either way, the top floor would slow them down the most, buy Izuku the most time.

The room he picked was full of prop boxes. Izuku had to rearrange them to completely hide the bomb, and there was a chance Monoma and Hagakure would remember what it looked like before, from the camera feeds, but he hoped they'd overlook it.

He still had time. Next...

The second floor had office equipment in it. Clearly old junk the school didn't mind loosing. Izuku pulled as much of it out into the hallway as he could, his experience from the beach helping him maneuver quickly. He dumped a lot of it into the stairwell. The rest he left in the hallways.

How much time did he have?

Not long.

He ran up the stairs, to the fourth floor, where Ashido had melted a hole in the floor. Here, he had multiple egress points. It would be harder for them to corner him. Also...

He randomly closed half the doors on the floor. He could pretend to be guarding one of them. Delay them. How much longer?

No time at all.

Right on schedule, the air went dry and cold. Izuku, having planned for this, leapt for one of the door frames and held on. A thin layer of ice, not as thick as the one on the floor, crusted over his gloved fingers.

Izuku counted to five, then let his hands slip out of his gloves and dropped to the floor. Then he reached up and tugged his now empty gloves out of the ice.

He inspected the ice momentarily, and tested his ability to move on it. It wasn't as even or as thick as it had been when Todoroki used it, and the surface was a difficult and unpredictable mixture of smooth and rough... but it would become slicker as it melted.

Good. Izuku had predicted this. It made his closed doors and stacked boxes much more formidable obstacles. The ice wouldn't allow doors to open easily, and the boxes would also be reinforced and hard to move.

Izuku was glad for the conversation All Might had with Todoroki. Although it probably hadn't been his intention, the way he had phrased his commentary on Todoroki's freezing strategy had made it seem like an automatic win, given that it wasn't used against someone who'd be seriously injured by it.

Izuku hadn't been sure they'd do it, since it would handicap Hagakure so much. She couldn't walk around on ice barefoot. Unless she had a secondary mutation that made her skin tougher, or less sensitive to temperature- that would be so cool! No, focus, focus.

Monoma wouldn't have Iida's quirk, either with this strategy. Even if was unfamiliar with speed quirks, he would know that high speeds and ice didn't mix... Unless you were a speed skater, Izuku supposed. But Monoma didn't have ice skates- Unless, unless he took Yaoyorozu's quirk and made ice skates. But that would be horribly impractical with this uneven ice, and probably wouldn't work with Iida's quirk at all. So.

He'd probably have Yaoyorozu's quirk anyway. And after that, for this exercise, Jirou's would be the most valuable. With Jirou's quirk, Monoma would be able to locate Izuku quickly.

Another reason to separate himself from the bomb.

They were coming.

He hid himself out of immediate sight, in the room with the hole, on the off chance that Monoma couldn't hold that many quirks.

There was a clatter from the stairwell.

They were coming.

Muffled voices. A louder thump.

"Maybe if you hadn't frozen everything-"

A sort of fwoosh brought an oddly warm breeze and Izuku hissed. Todoroki's quirk must be more than ice. Given his overall appearance... Fire? Izuku was screwed.

Well. Hopefully his precautions would at least get him a good grade.

There were more scrapes and clatters as Hagakure and Monoma forced their way through the stairwell. Then, relative silence.

They were coming.

"I thought you said he was on this floor," said Hagakure, plaintively.

"He must have gotten free," said Monoma.

"Can't you listen for him again?"

There was a pause. Monoma must have responded nonverbally.

"We'll just have to be careful checking everything out," said Hagakure. "The bomb must be on this floor, after all."

Okay. Okay, great, this was good news for Izuku. He eyed the hole in the floor. Part of him really didn't want to jump through. His brain was supplying him with all the things that could go wrong with such a jump. Especially with the layer of ice. Ugh, he should have dragged one of the office desks up underneath it.

Too late now.

Minding his visibility, Izuku crept over to the side of the hole and lowered himself until he was hanging by his finger tips.

It was still a long fall. Monoma and Hagakure's footsteps were growing closer.

He let go.

He tried to hit the ground properly, but his roll turned into a slide, and he hit a wall at a higher speed than he would have liked. Reflexively he grabbed at his left arm. Ow.

He knew this was going to happen.

"He's on the third floor!"

"What?"

"He jumped through Ashido's hole!"

Izuku forced himself to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs. The second floor had more hiding places than the third. At the last minute, something twinged in the back of his mind, and he tried to stop. Tried. The ice made this difficult.

His legs went out from underneath him, and he went skidding down the hallway on his back, taking a mercifully, mercifully, clothed Hagakure out at the ankles. They slid together into the bottom of the stairs descending from the fourth floor, further battering Izuku's poor arm.

He dodged Hagakure's capture tape and briefly considered pulling out his own, but there was Monoma, cautiously coming down the icy stairs.

Icy stairs.

It seemed neither Izuku nor Monoma had fully considered the obstacles that would result from coating a building like this in ice. Todoroki's ability to maneuver easily on this terrain was, in retrospect, a keystone of the 'freeze everything' strategy, not incidental.

He needed to get away.

He pushed Hagakure off of himself (and noted that she was just as muscular as he was) and slid on his knees to the banister. He pulled himself up and slid down the rail, using the ice to his benefit. Using his uninjured arm, he gripped the end of the banister connected to the wall to slingshot himself down the second floor hallway.

... and almost right into a desk he'd half forgotten he'd put there. He dodged it and recovered quickly before scrambling over the other obstacles in the hallway. He came to a scraping halt and tucked himself into the leg well of one of the desks. A convenient bar meant he could keep his feet off the ground and out of sight as well.

Just like hiding from bullies. Only less dangerous and more fun.

How much time was left?

It had taken them about five minutes to get past the desks on the stairs, then maybe two or three to get to the fourth floor? They hadn't been moving quickly, probably because of the ice. Then, they'd been on the fourth floor for another couple of minutes before Izuku dropped to the third, even if it had felt longer to Izuku. The tussle on the third had taken a minute, tops, so he had... Four minutes left? Less, now.

He could win this. He could run out the clock. Maybe it wasn't the most heroic way to win, but he was supposed to be playing the villain, and he hoped Mr. Yagi would be proud of him anyway.

"Show yourself!" called Monoma. "Or I'll freeze you out."

Could he do that? Maybe he had Jirou's quirk at first, but switched to Todoroki's later, and lost access to Jirou's? If only he knew more about how Monoma's quirk worked... It could be a bluff, too. Even if it wasn't, why would he reveal himself? This late in the game, even if he was frozen in place, he could still win.

And winning... it wasn't something he got to do very often.

A buzz signaled the end of the match. "Villains win! Or, rather villain wins? Good job everyone! Come on out for the final debrief."

"MVP, MVP, MVP," chanted Yoichi, Banjo, and En, arms slung around each others' shoulders.

"Our boy is MVP!" cried Banjo.

"You know what this means, of course," said Hikage during a pause in the noise. The other ghosts looked at him. "It means, my quirk is the most valuable. The greatest power in the universe is the power of anxiety."

"Take that back!" said Yoichu, throwing an imaginary kazoo at Hikage. "The most powerful thing in the universe is the power of friendship. Everyone knows that!"

"What about those two?" asked Hikage, pointing at Second and Third.

"Unfortunately, the power of spite is also great," said Yoichi. "Even so, they will soon find themselves defeated."

Nana rubbed her temples. "If I hadn't given up on sanity within ten minutes of waking up in here, this would be what did me in."

After an intense practical, the next stop was the nurse's office. There, the class found Asui already mostly recovered, and Izuku found out that he had, in fact broken his arm.

"Are you sure it isn't just a sprain? It is broken?"

"A fracture, and, yes, quite sure. But a sprain can actually be worse than a break- many true sprains never quite heal correctly... either way, with my quirk you don't have to worry about it." She pressed her lips to Izuku's forehead. He felt his energy ebb to a new low. "You should talk to Mr. Aizawa about falling techniques. Your body type is more like his than your other mentor's."

"I- I will," promised Izuku.

"Good. You can go get changed, now."

"Thanks," said Izuku, not quite wobbling out of the room.

"Midoriya!"

He almost jumped out of his skin. "A-ah! Uraraka!"

"Sorry to startle you!"

"No, no, it's fine. What is it?"

"Oh, well, Iida and I were wondering if you'd like to come out with use to a café after school? It's nearby and apparently it has discounts for UA students?"

"Indeed! My older brother talked about it frequently when he was a student here!"

"W-well," said Izuku. He looked at All Might, who was awkwardly supervising and directing other students in the hallway to the locker rooms. All Might caught his eye and nodded. "Sure! That sounds like fun!"

This would be the last time Shouta would have to nap after school for a while. From tomorrow on, he'd be alternating quirk counseling with Midoriya with hero work. Why did he agree to do this again?

Kan opened the door to the break room. With him came the acrid smell of smoke and hot dust. "Which companies did the first year costumes this year?" he asked, voice dangerously soft enough to impress Aizawa.

"Why?" asked Hizashi.

"Because I want to... talk to whoever thought it was a good idea to give a fifteen-year-old with no training in demolition not one, but two weapons that could level buildings at full charge. I just want to talk."

Judging by the expression on Kan's face, Shouta seriously doubted that.

Kan took a deep breath. "What about your hellions?"

"Don't know. Yagi had them today."

"And you didn't watch?"

"I was in court."

"What's wrong with Yagi, anyway?"

Shouta, Hizashi, and Kan all turned to where Yagi was splayed in a chair. If the scene were a painting, it could easily be titled 'depression.'

"I'm a failure as a teacher and a hero," he moaned.

"Huh?" said Hizashi. "Why?"

"Young Asui nearly became hypothermic, and young Midoriya fractured his arm."

There was a beat of silence as the others waited for him to go on.

"What?" Kan asked. "Is that it?"

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #danger first #danger first au

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fairydxll · 3 years

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

↳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | uh fighting? Lmk if anything.

↳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2124

𝐚/𝐧 ~ sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. But I'm back now!

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

<- previous chapter

After a couple of days, Rory kinda got used to her new "home." Since Tony didn't know how long it would be before they went back to California, and with Pepper gone, they decided it was best if Rory just took a break from school.

Rory did eventually grow to like her new room. She was not allowed to leave the current floor, so she basically just spent all of her time there. Tony was gone all day and didn't get home until very late at night, meaning Rory had to have food delivered. She didn't mind, though. She figured that if they end up staying, she'll be able to tell Tony what all the good restaurants are.

Tony never told her anything about why they were here with the exception of, "Daddy has business."

So in order to pass the time, Rory would read or watch movies. She even took up drawing which turned out to be something she isn't too bad at.

This morning, Tony was already gone by the time Rory got up, so she got dressed and migrated to the living area. She sat on one of the couches near the large window and began sketching the tall buildings surrounding her.

As she finished the shading on one of the skyscrapers, she peered back up to see a tall man with long, black hair dressed in what looked like a Halloween costume standing on the terrace. Rory put down her sketchbook and looked closer. He was very tall and had large, golden horns that decorated the top of his head. She had no clue as to why this man was standing outside of her window on her father's building.

Rory looked to her right and noticed her father, in the Iron Man suit, land on the landing pad. The man just stood there, watching as machines swiftly removed the armor from Tony's body.

The strange man made his way into the room from the balcony. The room she was in. Rory didn't know what to do. She was frozen, scared. Instead of running away as any sane person would, Rory remained in her chair.

The large man entered the room. He studied his surroundings, his eyes eventually landing on Rory. "Who might you be?" He asked with disdain.

Rory could do nothing but blink at him, too afraid to speak. He opened his mouth to say more, only to be interrupted by the presence of Tony. "Rory, come here," Tony said blankly.

Rory immediately dropped her things and ran to her father's side. Tony wrapped his arm around her protectively, hoping to shield her with his body.

The man watched this all happen before finally speaking, "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." He spoke as if she weren't there.

"Actually I'm planning to threaten you," Tony responded. Rory couldn't sense any different emotions other than his natural sarcastic tone.

"You should have left your armor on for that," the man bantered, walking closer to Tony and Rory.

"Yeah," Tony pushed Rory behind the bar. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glow stick of destiny." Rory crouched down below the bar and pulled her knees into her chest. She couldn't help but let tears stain her cheeks, afraid of what was happening. "Would you like a drink?" Tony asked the man as he walked behind the bar, actively trying to ignore you in hopes you wouldn't become a target.

Rory heard the other man laugh. "Stalling me won't change anything," he said. If Rory knew what it meant, she would describe their conversation as passive-aggressive.

"No, no. threatening." Tony began making himself a drink. "No drink? You sure? I'm having one.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that." His words sounded like gibberish to Rory. "What have I to fear?"

Rory watched her father casually make a drink as if nothing was wrong. "The Avengers. That's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team." Rory had no idea what he was going on about. ""Earth's mightiest heroes"-type thing."

"Yes, I've met them."

"Yea," Tony's smile helped calm Rory down. He had to have the situation under control, right? "It takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But let's do a headcount, here. Your brother, the demi-god," demi-god? "A super-soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend." He secretly slipped a metal-looking band on each wrist.

"A man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella," none of his words were making any sense. "You've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan," Tony walked past you and out from the bar. "When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

"I have an army."

"We have a hulk."

Rory finally gathered enough courage and stood up carefully. She peeked her head over the bar to watch the men while also trying to stay out of the way. Tony was approaching the man as they spoke; the man keeping his ground.

"I thought the beast had wandered off," the man said.

"You're missing the point. There's no throne," Tony's voice rose slightly. "There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

Tony took a sip of his drink while the man took a few steps closer, a scowl spreading across his features. "How will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?"

For the first time since this scene began, Tony looked scared. The man brought his scepter-looking thing up and tapped it against Tony's chest with a clang noise. The man's face dropped for a second before he tried a second time, and then a third. "This usually works."

Tony didn't look scared anymore. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five--" his sentence was cut short when the man forcefully grabbed Tony's throat and threw him onto the floor. Rory squealed and then immediately covered her mouth.

The man turned his head in Rory's direction with a puzzled look. He turned away from her as soon as Tony stood up and went for his neck again. "You will all fall before me," he said.

"Deploy!" Tony called before the man threw him out the window, shattering the glass. Rory screamed with all her might. Did she just watch her Dad be murdered? What was he going to do to her?

Rory hid behind the bar once more, watching and listening closely to her surroundings. A loud sound rippled through the room causing Rory to throw her hands over her ears to block out the noise. She peeked over the bar and saw nothing but more shards of glass and broken furniture.

The man stared Rory down. "Who are you?"

Rory gulped, "who are you?"

He chuckled. "I am Loki, of Asgard. I'm surprised you have not yet heard of me." His tone was a lot softer with her than it was with her father. "What is your name, little one?"

"Rory," she nervously answered his question. "My name is Rory."

"Let me guess; Stark's child?" She didn't say anything. Rory simply nodded. "Ah I see," he gave you an almost heartwarming smile. "Come here, Rory."

Fearing she had no other choice, Rory walked over to Loki and he crouched down to meet her gaze. He smiled at her. Rory watched her father fly up behind him. She was more than thrilled to see her father alive and more tears fell from her eyes.

"And one more thing," Loki's face dropped and he spun around to face Tony. "Get away from my daughter!" Tony shot at Loki, sending him flying backward. Rory jumped out of the way, too stunned to do anything else. With Loki knocked out, Tony looked towards his daughter, "Rory go hide, now!" He flew away into the sky, and Rory wasted no time in running to her bedroom.

She slammed the door shut and locked it. She looked around her room for anything that she could put in front of the door to make it harder to reach her. Rory tried to move the couch, but it was no use. It was too heavy for a ten-year-old to manage. She tugged on her roots as she spotted her desk chair. Once it was securely tucked under the knob, Rory ran over to her window to watch what was unfolding.

Rory couldn't help herself as she began to sob. She was afraid and she was alone. There was nothing she could do to help. Tons of thousands of aliens flooded the skies and streets of New York as Rory sat up in her bedroom, watching. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she pressed her face and hands into the large window.

More loud noises were flowing from the living area into Rory's bedroom and Rory could do nothing to stop them. She hoped that the man who called himself Loki was gone and that her Dad was alright.

At this moment, Rory really felt like a child. She felt small and helpless. Lonely and afraid. There was nothing else she could do except watch. She had no clue as to what she was watching either, which was not making her feel any better.

At long last, the aliens seemed to dissipate and things seemed to calm down. It looked to Rory like the fight was over. But who won?

Rory was drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of her father's voice calling her name. She nearly sprinted out. She ran up to Tony and engulfed him in the tightest bear hug she could manage. He was still in his suit and covered in dirt, but neither seemed to mind.

"I was afraid," Rory murmured into his neck.

"I know, bubs." They pulled away from the hug and Rory got the chance to really see the other people in the room.

There was a giant-sized man with green skin, a man with a shield, a man with a bow and arrow, a man with a red cape and long hair, and what looked like Natalie, only with shorter hair. They looked odd. As if they were straight out of a movie. She noticed Loki in handcuffs. He looked angry and sad at the same time. Rory didn't really know what he did, but she knew he lost and her dad won.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tony held a silver case in one hand and Rory's in the other as he walked alongside the other Avengers waiting to send Loki away. Tony had made it very clear that from now on, Rory would not be leaving his side.

Rory let go of her Dad's hand to let him deal with the case. Thor, as he had told Rory to call him, led Loki a few feet away from everyone else. He waited for Loki to grab hold of the glass container for the Tesseract. Before she knew it, the pair had disappeared in a storm of blue.

Once everything else was settled, Tony reached for Rory's hand again and walked her over to the rest of the Avengers. "Rory there's some people I'd like you to meet," he motioned to the team. "That's Capsicle, Legolas, Jolly Green, and the Triple Imposter. This is Rory." The others shook their heads at Tony's nicknames.

"Steve," the tall, blonde man smiled and Rory shook his hand.

"Bruce," the shorter man with grey hair politely smiled and waved.

"Yea," Nat showed you a friendly smile to which you returned. "Nice to finally meet you, officially."

"And I'm Clint," the last man with spiky hair and sunglasses introduced himself.

"Hi," you said, shyly and waved at them all.

"Bubs, you go wait in the car I'll be there in a sec," said Tony.

"Okay. It was nice meeting you all!" You said as you walked to the car.

"You ready to go, kiddo?" Tony asked as he got in the car and fastened his seatbelt.

"Are we going home? Like, back to Malibu?" you asked as he started the car and pulled out.

"Yea," he smiled. "I think we deserve a break."

"What about the tower?"

"We're working on it. It'll be fixed in no time."

"Good," you sighed

"Good?"

"I don't mind it anymore. I don't think it would be so bad if we moved here."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Really."

Next chapter ->

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷 ↴

Marvel:

↪︎ @sunday-kindoflove @1-800-simpforluke @tomhollandslilslut @elizabethrosecresswell @lestersglitterglue @devilswaldorf @whitechapelpsychobabble @hoodpankow @summerillyxx @mycosmicparadise @captian-kenobiwan @msmimimerton

Peter Parker:

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if your user is crossed out, contact me so I can fix it

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nattikay · 3 years

Text

So I saw this post while browsing toa tags the other day. While I don’t think being obsessed with the school mascot automatically makes Toby a furry (though it is funny to joke about lol) since “being a furry” actually just means “being a fan of anthropomorphic animals” and doesn’t necessarily require any form of costuming or interest in such, it did get me thinking, hmmm...if he was a furry, what would his fursona be? 🤔 And from there I started wondering what Jim’s and Claire’s would be as well because y not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

BUT WAIT, I hear you say--haven’t you already drawn the trio as werewolves and wolfwalkers etc.? Wouldn’t those be their fursonas??

Well yes....but actually no.

I guess it’s a little hard to explain, but there’s a nuance between “[person] but as an animal” and a proper “fursona”. While a fursona is an animal character used to represent its person, it doesn’t have to physically resemble them at all as you would expect [person]-but-as-[animal] to. For example, if you were to design me but as a cat, you’d probably give it light brown fur and green eyes like I have irl. But my fursona, unlike my human self, actually has blue fur and purple eyes. You can give your fursona matching physical traits to your own if you want to, and some people do, but most use only a pinch of their irl appearance, if any at all.

The choices people make when designing their fursonas vary wildly from “it looks like me irl” to “it looks like who I want to be” to “I just really like this color scheme” to “this particular color/marking holds deep personal meaning to me” to “this particular pattern represents a particular defining moment in my life” to “idk it looks cool and i vibe with it” etc. etc. etc. Everyone has different reasons of varying depth for the decisions they make in designing their fursona.

Therefore, to design a fursona for Toby etc., it’s less a question of “what would this character look like as [insert species here]?” and more of “how would this character choose to present himself with his own [animal] character?”

And that’s a much trickier game than just transferring a character aesthetic to a new species. ^^; We have to kinda dive into the characters and makes some guesses about how they, if given infinite creative freedom to design an animal avatar with no rules or limits, would choose to present themselves.

So all that said, here’s what I came up with:

Starting with Toby because he’s the one who inspired the post. I think Toby might choose a wolfdog fursona. A lot of people who choose wolves as fursonas consider themselves to be overwhelmingly loyal to their friends, a trait that fits Toby very well. However, while Toby likes to be “cool”, I don’t think he really thinks of himself as much of an “alpha” type--he’s more of a sidekick, and he knows that, and he’s ok with that. He’s the wingman. So what better way to incorporate that than to add dog into the mix? Man’s best friend=Jim’s best friend. Sociable, humorous, and unwaveringly loyal. Wolfdog it is!

With the species decided, we can move on to the design itself.

I can’t imagine any form of Toby in anything other than warm colors. This is extra emphasized by the flamelike patterns on his legs and tail, which both speaks to his desire to be totally awesome-sauce as well as acts as an allusion to his flaming warhammer. It’s fairly common (not universal, but common) for people to give their fursonas a more “ideal” physique than the person actually has as a sort of way to live by proxy physical goals or fantasies they’ve been unable to attain irl for whatever reason. Given that we’ve seen Toby struggle with fitness from time to time, it wouldn’t shock me to see him take this route. His wolfdog self is still relatively short and stocky, but it’s all muscle, babey.

This fursona is strong, fun, boisterous, and generally just kicks butt. Concentrated awesomesauce flows through his veins. Just don't mess with his friends, or you’ll feel the flames!

Moving on to Jim. Jim was the hardest to nail down, and most definitely the hardest to keep my personal biases out of oof. Which I may have failed to do anways because yes, ok, I made my favorite character a blue feline, sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But hear me out first!

For Jim I ultimately settling on a cheetah/lion hybrid.

Cheetahs, in a way, are sort of the underdogs (er...cats?) of the feline world--at least, in their local ecosystems. They are built wholly for speed, not strength--and as such, just about every other large predator in their environment has them beat when it comes to raw strength. Remind you of a certain Trollhunter? plus the long lanky legs. don’t forget those lol

However, because of this disadvantage, cheetahs...usually surrender. They know it’s not worth it to defend their kill from larger, stronger opponents, so they’ll give it up and just catch something else. This aspect doesn’t quite fit our protective, selfless protagonist all too eager to risk everything to save his loved ones--so a pure cheetah may not be the right choice.

So what animal is brave and protective? That’s where the lion part comes in, of course!

Why not just make him a pure lion? Well, a little similar to making Toby a wolfdog instead of a pure wolf. A straight-up lion feels a little too “chad” for our sweet Jimbo. Too much of a jock.

Jim has the humble underdog nature of a cheetah as well as the bravery and fierce protective drive of a lion. Cheelion? Leetah? idk, but let’s design it!

Like Toby and warm colors, I don’t think I can possibly associate Jim with any color but blue. While it’s never directly stated, given that we’ve never really seen him wear any other color (with the exception of the Eclipse armor), I think it’s pretty safe to assume that that’s his favorite. Blue sweater, blue jeans, blue shoes, even his backpack and bedsheets are blue. So naturally, his fursona would be predominantly blue as well! Plus some yellowish accents to (somewhat) match the natural colors of his chosen species(s).

I imagine he originally designed the character without horns, but then added them after becoming the Trollhunter, since it became such a major and impactful aspect of his life.

His lion’s mane also continues down his back in imitation of the “mantle” found on baby cheetahs. This youthful feature could subtly represent the fact that he’s been forced to grow up too fast and take on so much responsibility so young--so his fursona can still be young and carefree as long as he likes even while his real self struggles with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

This fursona is relaxed, calm, and confident. He’s not just cool--he’s crispy!

Lastly but not leastly, we have Claire. Out of the three, I think Claire was actually the easiest to choose--or at least, I had the clearest idea of what I thought she might go for.

Claire is a bit of an interesting duck, because while she’s shown to be fairly popular at school, she’s definitely far from the stereotype of The Popular Girl™. Yes she’s smart and pretty, but she’s also a little spunky or even a bit quirky--she’s a theatre kid, she’s a huge fan of hard rock band Papa Skull, and while I wouldn’t quite call her “rebellious” per se, she’s certainly willing to bend some rules if she feels the situation calls for it (not telling her parents that she was going to the concert with Steve, literally sneaking into Jim’s basement to try to find out what was up with him, etc).

That said, I think Claire might go for a hyena fursona--something a little out of the box, but not totally out of left field. (she also shows a slight Gurl Power™ streak here and there “the staff was not meant to be wielded by man--” “I am not a man!!!”) and if you know anything about hyenas...well, yeah lol)

I think Claire would lean into her punk-rock “rebellious” side with her fursona design. This character is completely free of the pressure of being the councilwoman’s daughter and having to maintain her mother’s public reputation, and thus allows Claire to express a less restrained side of herself. She has a bold semi-edgy color scheme with bright accents (and some earrings to match her person’s hair clips) while still remaining feminine and (her own brand of) fashionable.

This fursona is spunky and sassy; she’s spicy and sweet all rolled up into one. She knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to chase it down. She lives her own life and she’s dang proud of it.

....sooooo yeah there’s my take on what Toby’s, Jim’s, and Claire’s fursonas could hypothetically be. And I guess since this post was inspired by a joke about Toby’s infatuation with the school mascot, here’s just some quick thoughts on how they might approach fursuiting to end us off:

Jim I don’t see as much of a suiter. He might try it once or twice if given the opportunity, but at the end of the day it’s not really his cup of tea--he’d rather act as the “handler” for his friends, if anything.

Toby and Claire, on the other hand, I could definitely see as suiters. In fact, with her interest in acting, Claire would probably particularly enjoy it--she’d be one of those suiters who really gets into character, absolutely refuses to break the magic publicly (outside of any actual medical emergency), and popular at cons because she just performs so well.

Toby, meanwhile, would be the more chill type--uses his normal voice in-suit, isn’t really too stressed about “breaking the magic”, just kinda hanging around like he would normally except “look I’m a talking dog, cool right?”.

also while I was typing this it occurred to be that since Eli is canonically a cosplayer then he could be a fursuiter as well; in his case i imagine he actually made his own suit it’s a protogen and it’s full of little LEDs and other electric gadgets, it’s not the prettiest thing ever as sewing is not his forte but boy did he try!! good for him. good for him

#so anyways I put way too much thought into this...enjoy I guess?#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toby domzalski #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #furry #my art

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imagineabrighterworld · 4 years

Text

Bad Romance

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

A/N: Loosely inspired by the song Bad Romance by Lady Gaga! Hope you like it! ^^

- - - - -

Five months ago you were poor, unenthused, unamused, and in need of an espresso.

Fives months later and you still needed that espresso. But at least you weren't poor.

It was by chance that you met Shigaraki the first time, but by the second time you knew it wasn't fate's design. He had followed you straight to your studio apartment where you had been comparing fabrics for a new project you were hoping to sell by the end of the next month.

You were a fashion designer. Specifically, you designed hero costumes. They were different from normal wear and always came with a challenge. And what could you say? You always loved a head scratcher.

So when Shigaraki came strutting in with a wad of cash and a promise of more- should you aid in his endeavors- all you had to say was

When and where?

So five months of work later, you stand beside him in a crowded mall with a list in hand, ready to use him as your shield as you barrel into shops. He was much taller than you anyway. At your whopping 5'1 height, you could use his height to your advantage when it came to picking fabrics too high up to reach.

The only downside was that he would have to be careful not to use all of his fingers to lift it up.

"Why am I here?"

Another downside was that he definitely did not want to be with you on your fabric run.

You click your tongue as you begin in the direction of the first store, pulling him behind you with your pinkies locked together. "I need more fireproof polyester. Dabi is getting too cozy with my wool."

"And you brought me along why?" He hisses at you, his face obscured by his hood and a facial mask. Being an A-lister big bad on Japan’s most wanted, he was definitely not the most inconspicuous face you could have brought along. You would have put sunglasses on him to hide the scarring under his eyes, but you figured that would be more attracting than disguising. Turns out it was a common disguise for celebs.

You would remember that the next time you took a trip to Korea with him.

"Kurogiri is busy. Toga is short too. Dabi is Dabi and Jin is with Giran." While you would have loved to bring Toga with you, she was barely an inch taller than you were. Besides, you rather liked Shigaraki. Mostly when he was quiet, but no one was perfect.

You had agreed to working with him for several reasons. Money. Stability. A lack of care for heroes. And because he awakened something in you. Your creative spark was ignited by him and you couldn't let him go without fearing it would leave with him.

Outside of his scarred appearance- and even with them- he was easy on the eyes and just the right amount of lankiness. You just found yourself drawn to him. And hey, there wasn't much of a difference catering to villains rather than heroes when it came to their clothes.

He grits his teeth behind his mask. "Fine." Shigaraki looks around the two of you, glaring at the people staring at you. "But let's make it quick."

"I don't plan on spending my day here, don't worry." You fold up the paper in your hands while humming a short tune. "I planned on doing a few sketches later. I have some ideas on a new outfit and-"

"You want me to pose again."

"Sometimes you surprise me with how smart you are." You grin, looking back at him to see his annoyed expression. "You're truly an enigma."

"I'm glad you enjoy yourself."

"Oh I do. Now come on, we're here."

- - - - - - - - - -

After successfully purchasing your wares and having Kurogiri warp them back to the base, you both take the long way back in order to do small sketches around the more scenic parts of the city. Really he could have stood next to a fire hydrant and you would still be able to come up with sketches, but you enjoyed bickering over where and how to pose.

Like now actually.

“Does it have to be this tree?”

“Absolutely.” You hold back a snicker.

“This tree?”

“Yes! Now put your arm like that- pinky up, you don't want to fall- there you go!”

After finally having him perfectly positioned on the limb of a tree, you sit down on the stone across from it and flip your notebook open onto a fresh page. Uncapping a blue pen you begin your rough sketches.

He sighs. He was laying down in the curve of the sturdy branch, a leg drooping down while he propped his head up with a hand, the other lazily positioned on his stomach. His face was still obscured, but you didn't need to see it in order to draw it. You knew the slope of his nose and the line of his jaw, the burgundy shade of his eyes. He was hard to forget, from his head to his toes.

Shigaraki turns his head slightly, an eye peeking out from under his curtain of blue hair.

He found you after following a trail of breadcrumbs, little whispers of an up-in-coming designer that created lasting hero costumes. Your work was well known in your circle. Surprising with how new you were. People lined up to get a look at your designs.

He needed that kind of quality when it came to his crew.

“Tilt your head.” You say as you look up from your page, eyes glassy as your hand continues its movements on the page.

You had tenacity and desire. That he could work with. He used it to get you to join his crew. Even so, he didnt expect you to come to his side so willingly.

“Shigaraki~” You tap your chin with your pen, tilting your head with a mocking smile. “Tilt.”

He does so, knowing your next attempt would be to physically move him.

“Thank you~” You chirp, continuing on with your sketches, this time with a black pen as you move on to more refined lines and details. Your head ducks down as you hone in on the page, eyes dancing around as you go from figure to figure, left leg bouncing as you hum a small tune. You were in your own little world.

He stopped trying to understand what was going on in your head. As long as you worked for them, he didn’t care what you did.

His hand twitches.

He didn’t care what you did.

Besides that one thing.

“When was this date of yours again?” He grumbles under his breath, spitting out the word ‘date’ with enough venom to kill. Still, you caught it easily.

You pause your work to look at him, eyes clearing as you are pulled out of your focus. “It's tomorrow night.” Putting your pen down, you lean back on your hands, looking up at the fluffy clouds in the sky. “With that one guy right? I think we're going to the movies or something.”

Shigaraki scoffs. The movies. The last two times you went to the movies you ended up having a horrible night.

Then again, the last two times he had the Nomu go wreck the place.

But it was completely unintentional and coincidental.

“Why is it you go on dates and expect a different outcome when you know this game only has one ending?” He scratches at his neck idly, staring at the tree trunk and following the crackling of the bark to the branch above him until he was fully laying down. “You never go on a second date. Why waste money?” Why waste his money?

“Oh I know I won't go on another date with him.”

He sits up swiftly.

“Then why-!”

He stops, backpedaling when he sees the shit eating grin on your face. You were messing with him!

He grits his teeth and lays back down with a heavy thump. “Why?” He repeats.

“Because I like having stories to tell.” Admittedly, you also used it as an opportunity to gather new ideas. But with each date you always came back with stories to tell Shigaraki and the crew over a nice shot of gin. They always gathered around you at the bar to hear your tales.

Sure you exaggerated them a little bit, but you liked sharing with them your life of normalcy. They didn't have the freedom of leading easy lives, so you hoped your stories could make them feel more.. Normal.

He had no ammo to continue arguing, you gave him nothing to fight against. So he tried what he did have.

“One day you will die alone.” Perfect. Direct. Cold.

“I have you, don't I?”

…

He tilts his head to glare at you, expecting to see your joking smile, some sign to show you were kidding. But his heart only beat faster as you winked at him.

“You may be a criminal, but you’re my criminal.”

“Just hurry up.”

Five months and already you were going to be the death of him.

#bnha #mha #bnha shigaraki #mha shigaraki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #bnha shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki x reader

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oikaw-ugh · 4 years

Text

Stitches (Soulmate AU - Midoriya x Reader)

Soulmate AU: Wherein whenever your other half gets injured or is in pain, you feel the same pain in that specific part in your body and it lasts on you depending with the severity of their injury.

Summary: The thought that you have a clumsy person for a soulmate sounded cute. Not until you're currently studying as a hero and you don't really need to feel their pain all the time.

A/n: OKAY. I KNOW I'VE BEEN WRITING SOULMATE AU FOR A WHILE NOW BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH PLEASE BARE WITH ME 🥺

That's a Soulmate AU prompt I came up with. Idk if somebody else has already done this so I won't be claiming this prompt as mine.

Also, made a Soulmate AU for Oikawa (here) and Kageyama (here)

Plus, this is Stitches because the song (Shawn Mendez's) reminds me of Midoriya (my fave title so far).

"So you're Y/N?" The lady hero asked.

"Yes," you smiled confidently, eager to look as if you're someone dependable.

"Hmmm..." She hummed as she looks at your data while swaying her swivel chair, "Nice quirk..." She complimented, "And you specialize in natural disasters situations?"

"Yes," you nodded, "But I am confident that I can fight for crimes as well."

She smiled at you, "Terrific! We like a hero who is versatile," she said with a satisfied eyes, "A question though...is that your hero costume?"

You glanced at your hero costume you personally designed, "Yes."

"And... those white patches in your arms and neck? Part of the costume as well?"

You glance at your arms and neck this time, "These are salonpas," you explained.

"Uh, why?" She said, confused.

You gave her a smile. A smile that appears to be fine at first but the moment you stare too long, it'd show your real pain.

"Because I am in pain." Invisible tear rolling down your eyes.

Growing up, you get yourself stung from time to time because of a person you're still about to meet. In this world where your other half shares the same pain to you, it's natural for everybody to suddenly feel pain out of the blue.

So back when you were younger, you'd chuckle with how you'd get stung a lot in a day.

"They're probably clumsy," you giggled one time when you felt yourself slightly ache at your arms, stomach, and chin.

It was cute, to be honest. You didn't mind a clumsy soulmate. You'd be willing to be their pillar, to be someone they can rely to so in that way, you both wouldn't be in pain anymore!

You didn't expect you'd eventually grow tired of it though...

First year... your first year as a high school student was hell. The pain you've been feeling from time to time during middle school is incomparable with the pain your soulmate has started to inflict on you.

The first severe one was when you felt your right hand in pain. It was so painful to the point you couldn't use it and you had to be excused for weeks. For someone who is aiming to be a hero, weeks without training and studying is a torture.

You thought this was acceptable and you could let it slide. But months later, during your physical examination to see how far your quirks have improved, your soulmate suddenly stung you in you right arm AND INCLUDING THE FINGERS THIS TIME.

You flunked the test and almost got dropped out of class.

"I don't want to meet them. I will never meet them." An oath you promised to yourself when you got your arms and legs immobilized for weeks.

Snapping from your straying thoughts, the lady hero has guided you towards this room. She twisted the door open, allowing you both access.

The first thing you immediately noticed was a short guy with a very noticeable costume. It's literally puking green! Beside him is probably his friend whose hair is divided into two colors.

"These are interns from UA. They started their internship earlier than you. They've been here for a week now," the woman explained as you both walk towards them, which made them look at you.

You glanced at the green boy once again. The way his eyes beamed at you and how his grin is so wide made your stomach churn. And when he offered you his hand? You couldn't help but be annoyed.

"This guy is definitely a klutz," you commented at the back of your mind.

"Hi! I'm Midoriya Izuku! You can call me Deku," he said and the way his voice is so energetic made you want to just...ran away from his sight.

"This guy here is Shoto Todoroki..." He introduced his friend.

Without breaking your frown, you took his hand, "Midoriya, Shoto," you said, now plastering a fake smile. God, can you just stay away from this clumsy-looking guy? "I’m Y/N. Nice meeting you..." You replied but...

"Uh..." Your eyes wandered all around his body, "May I ask...what happened to you and you have a cast in your arm?"

"Oh, this?" He recklessly waved his casted arm, making you frown in pain just by looking at it, "We were chasing a robber last week so..." He responded with an awkward chuckle.

That was the cue. The emergency system inside you immediately screamed at you:

AVOID. HIM. AT. ALL. COST.

Which is easy, honestly. Especially when your field of expertise vastly differ? You're mostly on patrols for crowd control. While Midoriya and his friend, on the hand, are assigned to serious business (like tailing criminals and such).

But I guess you're unconsciously drawn to klutzy people as you ended up worrying for Deku every time they went back to the agency after a shift, with a brand new scratch or bruise.

"Where did you get this?" Probably your most overrated line every time you see him, "How come you're wounded and Todoroki is not?"

With a sheepish smile, he'd scratched his freckled cheeks, "I kind of jumped off this tall building and stuff."

"You what?" The most overrated line you use whenever he explains where he got his wounds.

You'd end up sighing as you reached for the back pocket of your costume, revealing a sheet of Salonpas.

"These help me when I receive...wounds from someone," you mumbled, cheeks slightly fuming as you placed the Salonpas on his palms, "Use these after your first aid..."

You probably hated him because he reminded you of your soulmate. Every time he returns from a shift, you can't help but feel the secondhand pain from his wounds. As someone who is accustomed of getting the feeling of being injured from time to time, you surprisingly relate to him.

Today, you woke up feeling tired. Like, really really tired. Your legs are heavy and your arms felt numb. You barely felt how hot your mug is against your fingers when you drank your coffee this morning. You feel stinging sensation at your cheeks. Probably scratches, you thought to yourself as you deducted what happened to your soulmate.

An accident? A brawl? You frowned. Could it be your soulmate is a gangster all along? And he wasn't clumsy? He was just fighting?

These thoughts circulated your mind. You didn't even notice how you've reached the headquarters of the hero agency you're interning for, surprised that you've arrived earlier than Deku and Todoroki.

"Oh, they've arrived," a hero read your mind as you greeted them a good morning, "Actually no. They didn't go home. They're at the clinic."

You frowned, dropping the duffle bag containing your costume, "Why?"

"Oh, they had it rough last night. Caught a criminal. You can check them if you want."

You didn't really need your superior to tell you that, though, as you found your feet directing you towards the clinic. Your hand moving on its own, twisting the knob to the right.

And there you see Deku, sprawled on the bed. Beside him a sleeping Todoroki. Deku immediately sensed you as he looked towards your direction. His eyes brighter than they could be as he gives you a toothy grin.

"Y/N!" He beamed, "And wow, what happened to you? What's with all the Salonpas?"

"I should be asking that to you," you retorted with anger, nose fuming as you crossed your arms tightly, "What happened to you?"

Midoriya gives you a smile, an apologetic smile that you consider as his trump card. Somehow, you couldn't help but let him pass whenever he flashed that grin and that fact irritates you more.

"We were chasing this criminal and I kind of overused my quirk," he said, scratching the Salonpas in his cheek, "I'm actually feeling good! Though my arms are numb. I couldn't feel them. And my legs are so tired I can't move them at all. And-"

"Your nape feels heavy? Along with your temples? Painful stomach and the scratches at your cheeks stings?" You cut him off.

Midoriya's jaw drops, wide eyes widening more, "Y/N, wow. How did you know?"

You pressed your lips tight, closing your eyes as your brows furrowed more. You clammed your palms on your arms hard, inhaling as much air as you can to gather the courage you need to reveal the conclusion you've ended with after all your observation.

"You're... you're my soulmate, idiot," you exhaled, now opening your eyes to see Midoriya's baffled expression.

"Y/YN..." He stammered, "Uh...I didn't know...I mean...I thought that's not real..." He added, "Wait, so that is real?!"

Now his cheeks are as red as Todoroki's hair, his jaw totally dropped as his eyes dilated.

"Wait, so you're feeling pain right now?!" He exclaimed again.

"Wanna bet?" You asked in a playful grin, trying to hide your irritation. You raised your hand on the air and Midoriya immediately got what you're aiming for.

"Y-Y/N, don't-"

You slapped yourself. Hard.

#Bnha imagines #mha imagines #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha midoriya #mha midoriya #bnha midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya soulmate au #midoriya fluff #todoroki shoto

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nvvermore · 4 years

Text

Music of the Night

Amaryllis has been searching for Beatrice all night [continuation of what a night, what a crowd! @juliandev0rak ]

words: 2.6k

cw: mentions of alcohol

accompaniment

—

The ballroom is packed once again this year, full of extravagant partygoers dressed to the nines, each with a mask befitting such a grand occasion. Amaryllis sees so many different kinds of costumes and dress from their place on the main stage, still awed by all the glamour surrounding them, year after year. But despite the diligent way their eyes have been scanning across the crowd throughout their set, they can never seem to spot the one who amazes them most.

“...And I felt afraid, for my heart said, ‘Get ready to fall’...”

For all the times they’d stressed the importance of focus to Beatrice during their lessons together, Amaryllis was a horrible example tonight. This is hardly their first masquerade. They are a professional, a highly esteemed act, graced with the opportunity and patronage to stand on such a stage. And yet, they certainly aren’t acting like one. No one else could tell, thank the gods, but they know that their mind is wandering, thinking about how it’s a waste of time to sing these songs when Beatrice might not even be in the crowd to hear them.

It was only a few hours into the night, but thus far Amaryllis had been too busy with official duties to track Beatrice down. Their eyes wandered then too, catching each time they’d spotted that familiar shade of green. By the time they were to get on stage they were restless and fed up with their courtly duties.

“...When I lost my heart, at the ball.”

The last notes of the song are struck, and the orchestra begins to transition into an instrumental piece as applause for them— and the ballroom full of dancing guests— cuts through the room. Amaryllis smiles and bows, keeping the mask on for just a few more moments.

When Amaryllis finally descends from the stage and merges back into the party, they need to stop for a moment to catch their breath. Which turns out to be a mistake that gives Nadia— who must have been waiting for their exit— the chance to step in. With her is a baron from somewhere Amaryllis doesn’t catch. It matters little, because they’re quick to pick up on Nadia’s terse smile and the plea for help in her eyes.

His request for a dance is granted, and it isn’t long after they’ve stepped into the dance floor proper that Amaryllis sees just why she wanted rid of him. Chatty, and a little self obsessed was the nicest description they could come up with. As he prattles on and Amaryllis tries to keep up with his off-rhythm box step and manages to drown out his voice with that of the songstress who’d taken to the stage after them. Their eyes begin to wander once again, looking past the baron’s shoulder into the crowd as they shuffle across the floor.

It’s a verse or two and a swap in positions— which is a clear relief to the baron— before Amaryllis finally sees a flash of carefully styled curls in that perfect shade of honey-kissed brown and—

Oh.

When Beatrice turns their way, the sight of her alone leaves Amaryllis breathless. She’s swathed in layers of cream tulle and golden embroidery, standing out against the reds and violets of the ballroom decor. Her face is obscured by a rabbit-eared mask, and though it complements her, they’d rather not miss out on that pretty pink flush likely to be on her cheeks. Now they are the dancer with the faulty footwork; Beatrice was so captivating, she’d managed to make Amaryllis stumble.

Before the baron can inquire if Amaryllis is alright, they quickly and efficiently excuse themself from the dance floor. It’s against their better judgment, and they hope he doesn’t manage to run into Nadia again. But they’ve spent the entire night so preoccupied with Beatrice, they’d be a real fool to lose track of her now.

As Amaryllis slips through the crowd to get to Beatrice, her eyes are on them, and can feel the curious glances from guests who are eager to find out who the infamous songstress is looking at with such reverence. Finally before her, they can’t stop the smile that finds itself on their painted lips.

“I’ve been looking for you all night.”

Her face lights up. “I’ve been looking for you too.”

“I’ve missed you,” they reveal, and Beatrice’s eyes go wide behind her golden mask. What they just admitted to dawns on Amaryllis, and they feel a very uncommon pang of embarrassment. Quickly, they divert the conversation. “May I have this dance?” They hold out a hand, and for a moment they worry she might not take it.

But with a shy smile and a nod, her hand slides into theirs.

Amaryllis leads Beatrice back through the crowd, back onto the dance floor. Her free hand comes to rest on their shoulder, and their hand slides around to her back, notably lower than it needs to be. Together they effortlessly blend in with the rest of the couples, gliding across the marble flooring, no stumbling or missteps. The sweet voice of the soprano from the stage cuts through the room, and it occurs to them that she’d begun to sing one of their own compositions.

“...First time I heard your voice, moonlight burst into the room…”

But Amaryllis can feel how nervous Beatrice is right now, with her stiff posture and how her hold on them tightens. They hate to see her upset, but it makes them feel so weak, how she draws them closer and holds onto them tighter. That their presence and touch is what soothes her.

Amaryllis tilts their head down to murmur into her ear. “What I’ve taught you about tension also extends to dancing,” their voice is low, and they didn’t miss the way she’d gasped, so softy, once they’d begun to speak.

“I know, it’s just,” she bites her lip, and her eyes flit to them for only a moment before she’s back to staring out into the crowd. “There are a lot of eyes on you.”

“Because they’re all jealous I’m the one dancing with you.”

“Amie,” she chides lightly, their name drawn out by a nervous giggle. Amaryllis doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s flushed, the low cut of her dress revealing the pink tinge to her chest.

“...You are so good for me…”

“Close your eyes,” Amaryllis instructs, “just focus on me, abeille.” Once Beatrice shuts her eyes, they lead her into a twirl, spinning her around and bringing her to a stop with her back to their chest. Her hair is fashioned in such a way that keeps her neck exposed, and this time when Amaryllis tilts their head down to whisper in her ear, they ghost their lips oh so faintly over her skin. “There doesn’t have to be anyone here but us.”

“...I’ll never be this happy again…”

Before Amaryllis ends up indulging themself any further, they spin her back around. Beatrice’s eyes are still shut, but she’s relaxed, her grip on them light and her shoulders back. The tempo speeds up, and she doesn’t miss a beat as they float across the floor. If they had known she was such a lovely dancer, they would have found an excuse to dance with her before now. When Beatrice opens her eyes again, she holds Amaryllis’s gaze, which hasn’t left her since she’d taken their hand.

“...You and I, and no one else.”

The song comes to a close, and the boisterous applause that comes with the conclusion of the performance is what finally breaks Beatrice out of her trance. She freezes, glancing all around with a mixture of disbelief and unease hidden behind her mask. For a split second, Amaryllis fears they’re the problem, but the idea is banished as she huddles just a little closer to them. An idea strikes.

“Come with me.” Hands still laced together, Amaryllis wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her away from the dance floor and the guests, up one of the smaller, less busy staircases off the side of the ballroom.

“Where are we going?”

“To get some air.” They push through one of many sets of doors off the upper level of the ballroom. It’s a balcony, one Amaryllis knows is often left deserted during the festivities— it’s where they always go each year when they need a moment away from the excitement. It’s a sizable space, close enough to still hear the orchestra clearly, but left undecorated and dimly lit by only a few decorative lanterns. But tonight the full moon is shining bright, and when they turn back to Beatrice, they’re awestruck all over again.

Under the moonlight, she’s ethereal. The way it reflects off of her golden gown and illuminates her features, as though she herself is glowing. But what really does Amaryllis in is when they realize she’s staring back at them, and perhaps the mask is concealing her face too much, because they don’t understand how she could look at them with reverence.

Perhaps Beatrice has the same idea, because then she’s reaching up, her fingers are then dancing at the edge of their golden half-mask. When they make no move to stop her, she slips it off. Her own mask follows, and she rests them on a stone bench a few steps away.

She holds her hand out. “May I have this dance?”

“Always.” Amaryllis takes Beatrice into their arms once more, and this time they’re just a short breadth away from each other. When they begin to step together, it feels even more effortless than before, with Beatrice relaxed and smiling from the start. “Now, yours are the only eyes on me.”

Before Beatrice can manage a response, the orchestra’s distant waltz comes to an end, and the tempo picks up for a polka.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for?”

“This!”

Quickly, Amaryllis leads the two of them smoothly into a triple step, skipping and twirling together around the wide open balcony. They swing Beatrice out and spin her once, twice, round and round, golden tulle swirling wide around her. When they pull her back in, she’s beaming, eyes bright under the moonlight and face lit up with her smile.

“Hold on!” Amaryllis tells her, and suddenly they’re swinging her off the ground to spin the two of them in circles. Beatrice squeals, her arms wrapping around their neck and holding tight. She buries her face into their shoulder, but they can still hear her melodious laughter. As the spinning slows, her legs find themselves around Amaryllis’s waist. They’re surprised by her boldness, but they love it, and the dizzying rush they feel isn’t from the spinning but from all the ways they’ve pictured her with her legs around their waist before.

She’s taller than them like this, looking down at them, and now there’s no mask in the way, no excuse for them not to acknowledge the way Beatrice looks at them. They hope she can see the same adoration in their eyes. Maybe, maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to tell her as such, just to make sure she knows how enchanting she is.

Amaryllis moves one of the hands supporting Beatrice up— across her thigh, grazing over her ass, up her back, stopping when their fingers brush her skin to cup the base of her neck.

“Amie…” she whispers, soft and drawn out, almost whiny. Her gaze flits down to their lips. Amaryllis has wanted her for so long, and they know she’s wanted it too, and suddenly they feel like a fool for not taking anything she’d give them all this time. The atmosphere of the masquerade makes it so easy to just give in, all the joy and tension and coming to a head and making people reckless, easy to blame anything that might go wrong or unrequited on adrenaline and alcohol.

Then, Beatrice rushes forward to kiss them. She’s cupping their face, thumb brushing over their left cheek so gently, a stark contrast to the eager way her lips move against theirs. Amaryllis tugs her closer, as close as they can get her, and tangles their fingers into her curls. After all this time, the months of pining for her, she feels like a dream.

But all dreams do have an end.

Abruptly, the balcony doors burst open, followed by a drunken shout. “Amie!”

Startled, Beatrice pulls away, eyes cast down as she slides back down to her feet. Her hands stay on them though, and her touch is the one thing keeping Amaryllis from giving their intruding brother an earful. Vesper strides out onto the balcony, definitely drunk and completely oblivious.

“We’ve been looking all over for you!” Julian shouts, appearing all of a sudden, equally wasted and slinging an arm around Vesper’s shoulders.

“Well perhaps I didn’t want to be found-“ Amaryllis starts, but another arrival cuts them off.

“You guys,” Asra hisses from beyond the doors, “I told you to leave them be!” He stomps into the doorway, heels clacking so hard against the stone Amaryllis is surprised they don’t break. He reaches out for Vesper and Julian, prepared to drag the two men off, until he turns to find out he’s seconds too late. “Amie, Beatrice,” he greets, tone pleasant and soft again. “I see these two already managed to interrupt you.” Asra pinches Julian’s waist in retaliation, which sends him into a fit of giggles.

“It’s quite alright,” Beatrice begins, and she lets go of them to retrieve their masks. “It’s a good time to rejoin the party anyway.” She fastens her mask into place, and Amaryllis follows suit— literally and figuratively— sliding the golden half-mask over their face.

“Is it really?” Asra asks her, with a knowing grin on his face. Clearly, there’s something going on that Amaryllis doesn’t know.

“It is,” she nods. He bounds over to her then, all traces of his previous frustration gone as he takes her arm and winks at them.

“See! No harm done!” Vesper shrugs away from Julian, grabbing onto Amaryllis to drag them back into the ballroom. From in front of them, Beatrice glances back at them in silent apology. They smile back at her, the soft, genuine smile that’s reserved only for her.

“Ohhhhhh,” Vesper draws out the sound, and then switches into their native language. “I see. Does somebody have a crush?” he taunts.

“I was in the middle of something!”

“I never thought I’d see the day! My baby sibling, in love!” He pinches Amaryllis’s uncovered cheek and they swat him away.

“I could use a drink,” they try to change the subject.

He’s serious then, or at least as serious as he’s capable of being in his state. “Didn’t go well?”

“Too well.” Amaryllis hadn’t been all that bothered by the interruption, was ready to send the two away and continue where they’d left off with Beatrice. But instead she pulled away, took her hands off of them in order to rejoin a party she wasn’t pleased to be at. They didn’t want to read into things, because Amaryllis didn’t read into things. Beatrice was prone to anxiety after all, and they hoped it was as simple as too much excitement in one night.

And they keep trying not to overthink, trying to keep the idea that she might have regrets out of their mind. There are no more dances with her, and Amaryllis never manages to sneak her away again. When Beatrice decides to retire, they almost ask to join her. But Nadia whisks her away before they can, and instead they simply kiss her hand, leaving behind a mark of crimson.

After she’s gone Amaryllis doesn’t stay much longer. They slide off their mask as they retreat to their room alone, mind lingering on the dance they shared, on their own lyrics that had been floating in the air around them.

“...I’ll never be this happy again.”

#okay i do love this n am proud of it so #literally no thoughts only them #what kinda period drama level yearning...#disgusting #amaryllis leroux #beatrice viano #beamie #amie fic #my fic #i feel like im forgetting tags but oh well

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backstairbooknerd · 4 years

Text

Coffeeshop AU

Word count: 1,659

Triggers: None

Pairing: Prinxiety

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Roman has never been afraid of anything. When he was five, his parents took him to the circus. When the clowns came out in their tiny red car with their makeup melting off their crooked faces, all the children shrieked with wet cheeks while Roman grinned and leaned over the railing for a closer look. When he was ten, he starred in his first musical. While everyone else was running around backstage with ripped costumes and forgotten lines, Roman stood ready for his entrance with his chin up and his chest puffed out. His first year of high school came when he was fifteen and once again, he was eerily calm as his friends fretted about their hair and their clothes. Needless to say, Roman is pretty brave.

At least, he thought he was brave until he met Virgil.

It was a Saturday morning when Patton and Logan asked Roman to go study with them, but it was Roman’s grand idea to try out the new coffee shop while they were at it.

It was this chain of events that led Roman to stand with his mouth agape at the cute barista. And there was no question about it - Roman was absolutely terrified to talk to him.

“Uh, Roman? Something wrong, Kiddo?” Patton gently nudged Roman’s shoulder with a concerned expression on his face.

“Patton, we talked about calling people older than you, ‘Kiddo’,” Logan mentioned as he roughly shut Roman’s still-gaping mouth.

“But you have to admit, he does look a bit childish when stares like that.” Patton waved a pale and freckled hand in front of Roman’s face. “You’re still looking a bit spacey there.”

Roman turned to his stupidly oblivious friends. “Do you mere mortals not see what I see?”

“That delectable looking muffin?”

“The dark academia atmosphere?”

“Well, yes, you’re not technically wrong, but I was talking about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome behind the counter.”

The two friends quickly looked Logan with his usual frown and Patton with an excited smile.

Somehow Logan managed to frown even more deeply. “You know he’s actually not that tall, right?”

“That is not the point, Poindexter and besides, he’s hunched over. When he stands up straight I’m sure he casts an impressive shadow.”

“I believe you mean if he stands up straight. That hunched position seems to be his dominant stance,” Logan said studiously.

“Well, Kiddo, if you think he’s so cute, why don’t you go and talk to him?”

For the first time in his life, Roman felt a feeling of panic shoot through him. No way was he going to talk to - he squinted at the nametag - Virgil. Wow, Virgil. A dark and mysterious name to go right along with a dark and mysterious boy.

“Actually, m not feeling too well now that I think about it. I’m gonna head home.” And before either of them could get a word in edgewise, Roman was grandly and heroically fleeing from the coffee shop.

One week later, Roman found himself in the same spot whilst staring at the same boy.

“Alright, Ro Ro Ro Your Boatman.”

“Paton, what -”

“This is your big moment. Do you remember what we practiced?”

Roman took a steadying breath. “Hey there, my name is Roman. I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go out sometime?”

“That was adequate,” Logan curtly nodded.

“Adequate? That was brilliant, Romance!”

“Okay, Patton, I love how you’re being my hype man right now, but after we’re done here we really need to discuss your choice of nicknames.”

Before he could see Patton’s crestfallen face, Roman turned and head to the register.

As he walked up, he took a moment to admire the fine specimen standing in front of him. His dark wavy hair tickled his ears and fell into his hazel eyes. Although he had the standard green worker shirt on, he sported a patched up sweatshirt, which was barely pulled up enough to showcase the plethora of rings on his pale fingers. He was the most beautiful thing Roman had ever laid his eyes on.

Before he was ready, he arrived at the counter.

Virgil lifted his eyes from the cups he was polishing and casually flicked his eyes over Roman’s form. “What can I get for you today?”

And God did those words throw Roman off his game because he had never heard such a wonderfully melodic voice before. He immediately started praying that Virgil was a singer. Unfortunately, this also happened to be the first time that Roman ever forgot his script.

“Uh, my name is gay and I was wondering if you singer?”

In the midst of his mortification, Roman barely registered the quirk of a smile on Virgil’s face.

“Hey, Gay, I’m Virgil and yes I am a singer. Come back here tonight at eight and you can hear me and my band play. Okay?”

Roman barely managed to nod his burning head before he promptly ran away. Again.

Needless to say, Roman, Patton, and Logan spent the next five hours or so picking out the perfect outfit. Patton insisted on a bright Hawaiian shirt to make him “stand out” while Logan insisted on a dark blue suit to convey “intelligence with approachability. In the end, Roman finally decided on black jeans, a red shirt, and a leather jacket.

“Well boys, I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“And remember,” Logan said. “No script this time because that clearly didn’t work last time.”

Roman glared at him. “I’m quite aware of that, Logan.”

“Well it wasn’t a total disaster,” Patton piped up. “I mean, he did invite you to his concert tonight.”

“Yeah, but not because he likes me, he just wants more people there. Ugh! I can’t believe I’m actually going to this thing.”

“Don’t be silly, Kiddo. This could be your soulmate, after all, you never know.”

Roman huffed and straightened his jacket. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

When they arrived at the coffee shop for the second time that day, they were certainly not alone. The coffee shop was so packed that they only managed to get the last table because they got there thirty minutes early. As the minutes ticked down to eight, the shop steadily filled up with people, many even wearing a black shirt that read All the Rejects. Patton nudged Roman’s side and wiggled his eyebrows. “Still think he just wanted you to come to add to the crowd?”

Before Roman could retort with a snarky response, the lights dimmed and the crowd began to cheer.

Suddenly, as if he were a magnet that Roman’s eyes were drawn to, Virgil stepped onto the makeshift stage and flashed his quip of a smile. Roman absently wondered if he had died and gone to heaven.

Virgil’s voice sounded over the speaker and seemed to simultaneously soothe and excite the crowd. “Are you guys ready to hear some great music?” As the crowd’s roar started to die down, Virgil and his band began their first song.

A few songs later and everyone, including the few who managed to snag a table, were on their feet.

Wiping some sweat from his brow, Virgil took a seat at the keyboard and adjusted his microphone. “All right, you guys, I’m just gonna take this opportunity to slow things down a little bit. This next song is called ‘Reckless Desires’”.

The next three minutes went by both agonizingly slow and much too quickly. Virgil’s eyes seemed to find his in the crowd the moment the song started to play, and they were locked there for the duration of the number.

When the song inevitably ended, Roman felt chills down his body as he and Virgil continued to stare at each other.

After what seemed like an eternity, the guitar player came over and slapped Virgil on the back, which seemed to break him out of his reverie. Roman curiously found it incredibly difficult to pay attention after that.

Two days later, Roman found himself unconsciously walking back to the coffee shop. However, he was instantly filled with disappointment when he found that a short blonde girl had taken Virgil’s spot behind the counter. Roman sighed. At least he would finally be able to try the coffee.

After getting his iced latte, Roman turned around to find himself table. Unfortunately, he turned around a little too quickly and promptly ran straight into someone.

“I am so sorry!” he said, scrambling to wipe the dripping coffee off of the other person’s shirt.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to spilled coffee.”

Roman froze as he recognized the sound of that voice. He slowly lifted his head and sure enough, Virgil was standing there with his damn crooked smile directed toward Roman. Of fucking course.

“Virgil! Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.”

Virgil frowned at him “You remember my name”

“Uh,” Roman intelligently said. “Well, yeah. I mean you’re kind of hard to forget.”

Virgil blushed. “Oh, Um, thanks.”

“But seriously, I can get your clothes dry-cleaned for you or something.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. But I do have another request for you if I may be so bold.”

“What is it?” Roman asked apprehensively.

“A date. With me. Friday night.”

Roman blinked in disbelief. “You want to go on a date? With me?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil said, shuffling his feet. “You’re pretty funny and charismatic and not to mention super cute.”

Now it was Roman’s turn to blush profusely

“Um, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I would like to go out with you on Friday.”

“Oh! Awesome, I’ll meet you here at seven?”

Roman smiled. “Sounds good. Oh, and my name isn’t Gay, it’s Roman.”

Virgil smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Friday, Roman.”

Roman watched in disbelief as Virgil, still drenched in coffee, walked away. It seems like he’s not the only brave person in the world.

#sanderssides #thomassanders #anxiety #virgil #roman #logan #patton #prinxiety #virgil x roman #au

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thedemisedroyal · 3 years

Text

Dangerous Betrayal | TVD/TO

The Vampire Diaries & The Originals

AU Story

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴!

• E S M E •

"Please, just make it stop!" The princess yelled in agony as she held her head. All the memories rushing through her mind, all the pain, all the hurt, everything bad she had done in her life ran through her head. But it was intensified by a trillion, this was on purpose, they wanted her in be pain.

Adara and Eila laughed manically, "Oh poor little baby, is something wrong?" Adara baby talked, chuckling in between. The princess yelled out, closing her eyes, trying to fight it, but she can't, she couldn't. The girl was consumed with guilt, making her walls around her mind tremble, they were weak, ready to fall down at the slightest of touch.

She had been tortured for years and years, after her mother banished her from the Void, they had sent her to Heaven. Her parents left her there as they hadn't finished their final punishment for their youngest daughter and child for her crimes. Until then, she would be tortured, just for laughs, just for entertainment.

"You know, for the Goddess of All Creation, you are weaker then I thought you would b-"

"Esme!" The Gilbert broke out of her thoughts, she fell into her head and she looked at the mirror in a weird angle, making her eyes shine like a golden-yellow. Making her the olden days, the years that started all of this. "Esme come on, we're gonna be late!" Elena shouted once more, the two, had school, as always, and were back into cheerleading, the younger twin seemed more willing to go then the oldest. But it made sense, things were different now.

Esme grabbed her bag and water,"Coming!" The middle child yelled, running out of her room and downstairs. "Let's get this show on the road." Esme mumbled under her breath, seeing her sister, not in her cheerleading costume.

• A U T H O R •

As time went on, Elena and Stefan had gotten much closer, dating now, which led to Esme of course threatening him if he didn't anything back to her sister. But all in all, Esme liked Stefan, trying to get close to figure out what he wanted in the end.

But days went by and she had met Damon as well, sensing he was also a vampire. But Jordan also noticed Damon looked at her with some sort of admiration, or maybe some sort of love. She had no idea was this was about, but she would definitely find out soon. As it was all too weird, now that her best friend, Caroline Forbes, was dating this Damon, who was eyeing her.

Right away she didn't exactly like him, he was a cocky and arrogant man who liked to stir up trouble. For instance, when Elena had a little dinner party with Bonnie and Stefan, Caroline and Damon had arrive unannounced, soon the blonde pulled the younger twin downstairs to join the fun. Which was a very awkward introduction between the raven haired and brunette.

It was even more awkward when the oldest Salvatore brother talked about their past live affair. Who was named Katherine, Elena had informed her sister on the love triangle, whilst the two watched and dried dishes when everyone else was in the living room. Then he walked in, and then Elena left the two alone, awkwardly.

During the time, Damon and Esme got to talk a bit, trying to get to know each other, but the girl felt very uncomfortable as Damon had this weird look in his eyes, a softness, with a genuine smile on his face which was rare for him in his case. Luckily, Bonnie had came in to ask if she needed more help, as Esme was taking quite a bit of time in the kitchen.

But that was awhile ago, and now it is the day of the football game. And the girl needed to be on her game for the cheerleaders and her best friends. Though it didn't help with the Tyler and Jeremy fight, and Stefans cover nearly blown with the cut on his hand, with Elena as witness.

• E S M E •

"God guys, I'll be back, I left my jacket and water in the car." Esme rubbed her forehead, Caroline and Bonnie nodded, the Gilbert quickly ran out the field and into the parking lot. The game was to start soon, and if she wasn't present soon the Forbes girl would have her ass. Esme quickly opened up the trunk, grabbing her maroon colored jacket and her big water bottle, that's as surprisingly still cool after being left in the car.

She swiftly turned around, gasping as she was face to face with Damon Salvatore. "You scared me. W-What are you doing here?" The Gilbert questioned, Damon looked over his shoulder quickly, then putting his hand to the side of his mouth,"I'm hiding from Caroline." He whispered. Esme quirked a brow,"And why is that?" She playfully whispered as well.

"I needed a break. She talks more then I can listen." Damon widened his eyes for a second. "That could be a sign." Esme nodded her head, kind of uncomfortable. "Well, she's awfully young".

Esme narrowed her eyes at the Salvatore,"Not much younger than you are." She responded back, Damon chuckled a bit. "I don't see it going anywhere in the bigger picture. I think she's drive me crazy." Damon spoke, Esme rose her brows and tilted her head a bit. "Caroline does have some really annoying traits, but we've been best friend since the first grade and that means something to me." The Gilbert defensively spoke, sternness in her manner.

The girl watched as something switched in the raven haired man,"Duly noted. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable. That's not my intention." Damon talked in the soothing voice, as if he was trying to persuade her. But the girl didn't fall for it, Damon was already on her bad side,"Yes, it is. Otherwise you wouldn't put an alternate meaning behind everything you say."

Damon smiled, shaking his head,"You're right. I do have other intentions, but so do you." Esme folded her arms across chest,"Really?" She questioned, wanting to see where he was going with this. Damon hummed as a response,"I seem 'em. You want me." Esme scoffed, feeling offended,"Excuse me?"

"I get to you. You find yourself drawn to me. You think about me when you don't want to think about me. I bet you even dreamed about me." Damon looked straight into Esme's eyes, the girl immediately knew what he was trying to do. "Compulsion." The voice in the back of her head reappeared for her once again. The girl was confused, what was this little voice, and most importantly, what the hell was Damon trying to play at here.

She snapped back into reality when she heard his voice once again speak,"And right now.. You want to kiss me." Esme had this emotionless look on her face, though it was pure anger, Damon smiled as he succeeded or he thought. He slowly leaned in with a smirk, Esme looked at his lip, before her face was painted with a scowl, and without thinking, Esme raised her hand and slapped him hard.

"What the hell?" Esme scoffed, glaring at him,"I don't know what game your trying to play here. Maybe trying to mess with Stefan, I don't know. But I don't want to be a part of it. And I don't know what happened in the past, but let's get one thing straight." Damon was in complete shock, Esme locked eyes with the man, who was holding his cheek,"I am not a pawn." Esme glared once more before tightly holding her water and jacket and walking away.

She didn't even realize what she had just done, she had blown her own cover...

• S T E F A N •

The blonde haired vampire watched as Matt walked away, feeling slightly more happy and comfortable with the complicated situation between him, Elena and Matt, but it was short-lived as he heard someone clapping behind him. He swiftly turned around, to see his older brother leaning against the brick wall.

"Isn't that nice? Stefan joins the team, makes a friend." Damon announced, pure sarcasm out of his tone of voice. "It's all so,'Rah, Rah, Go Team, Yeah'!" Damon raised his arm in a fist bump, clearly mocking his brother. Stefan shook his head, turning his body to leave,"Not tonight. I'm done with you." As he turned he was met face to face with Damon, who used his vampire-speed. Damon tilted his head, "Nice trick with Esme. Let me guess— vervain in her bracket? Necklace or ring maybe?"

Stefan was confused, he never gave the girl any vervain, only Elena. But he made sure to not show any unsureness, as he didn't even know why he couldn't compel her. "I admit, I was a bit surprised. It been a while since anyone could resist my compulsion." Damon lifted his eyes, throwing a innuendo in there. Stefan kept a cold, and stern face, unfazed,"Where'd you get it?" The older brother asked, "Does it matter?" Stefan started to walk away, going around his brother.

"Guess I could just seduce her the old-fashioned way. Or I could just..eat her." Damon cockily spoke, knowing that caught his brothers attention. Stefan stopped, turning around, confidence in his body,"No, you're not gonna hurt her." He slowly walked towards him as Damon turned around to face him.

"No?" Damon arrogantly asked,"Because deep down inside there is a part of you that feels for her. I was worried that you had no humanity left inside of you; that you may have actually become the monster that you pretend to be." Stefan with confidence, knowing he wouldn't hurt her, not if she looks the way she is.

Damon squinted his eyes,"Who's pretending?" Stefan looking him in the eyes,"Then kill me." Damon smiled,"Well I'm— I'm tempted." He looked up, shaking his head as he looked as if he was deciding. "No, you're of. You've had lifetimes to do it, and yet, here I am. I'm still alive. And there you are. You're still haunting me. After one hundred and forty five years. Katherine is dead, and so is Natasha. And you hate me because you love her, and you torture me because you still do. And that, my brother, is your humanity." The two had a tense stare off, but it was quickly interrupted by the annoying douche, Mr. Tanner.

"Salvatore!" The blonde haired man turned around with a stern expression, the teacher walked towards him with open arms,"What the hell? We've got a game to play!" He yelled, frustrated, Damon looked at the teacher with an idea popping in her head. "If that's my humanity..the. What's this?" He gulped, flashing a quick and sarcastic smile towards Stefan.

Then using his vampire-speed to Mr. Tanner, his vampire fad slowly unraveling, his fangs then digging themself into Mr. Tanner's neck. He yelled in pain,"No!" Stefan yelled, seeing as his brother slowly drained the teacher for all he was worth. Then just like that, he was dead, Damon turned around, blood all over his mouth, dripping to his chin, his vampire face still out,"Anyone, any time, any place." Stefan blinked in shock, this was going to be a lot more tougher.

• E S M E •

Dread...that's what filled the Gilbert body as she was in the field with the rest of the cheerleader, practicing. Until that emotion she knew all to well filled her body, it nearly paralyzed her when she felt the sense of death. She could smell it in the air, feel it in her finger tips, taste it on her tongue.

She held her head as a pain rushed through her body, she walked away from the group, though no one noticed, luckily. Then aloud ringing filled her head, making her groan, she opened her eyes, but shut them immediately when the lights hit her. "Fuck!" Jordan clenched her eyes in pain, she then moved further away from her group, feeling a sudden breeze of wind hit her face and body. She opened her eyes as she heard no one, and felt no light on her.

"What in the?" Jordan looked around her new surrounding, seeing she wasn't even on school soil anymore. No, she was in the empty park of Mystic Falls, far away from the school. She then felt a rush of power surge through her veins, Jordan gasped as she lifted up her hands to see scarlet red flares dancing around her hand.

"What's happening to me?"

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heyitsani · 4 years

Text

Five Valentine’s Days Spent Together (and the One that Started it All)

Word Count: 7272

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff and brief descriptions of violence/blood

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Notes: This is a day late but I had my own Valentine’s Day to celebrate haha. And this falls mostly before the first part of the actual ‘verse, but one after the first story. So You don’t have to read them but it would help. I wanted to show a bit more of where they started.

This is part of my Conversations in the Dark series, but can really be a stand alone if you want. But should you want to read the other pieces, you can read them here.

You can also read this on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. Valentine’s Day Year 1: The Clear Intent

He didn’t look over when a body dropped down onto the ledge next to him as he gazed out over the city, thankful for a quiet night, because he knew who it was without needing to look. Only one person would know where he perched in his city and that one person never bothered to cover his scent when he came to see Dick.

“Hood,” he greeted, voice neutral. He knew why Jason was there. He knew that this day wouldn’t pass without the alpha making some kind of gesture. His intentions had been clear for a year now and though Bruce had made it clear he did not support this path they were heading down, Dick wanted it. He might be testing Jason, allowing his Omega to dictate the course they took, but he did actually want Jason to make all these gestures. He wanted to know that Jason and his Alpha wanted Dick.

There was a soft rustling sound and the smell of something sweet and fried hitting his senses, but Jason remained silent. So Dick looked over at the man and found him looking out over the city, helmet gone but domino in place. His jawline was as striking as ever, but it was the gentle curl of the corner of his mouth that caught Dick’s attention. Smiles were a rare treat while in costume. Something that no one in the family actually believed happened because Dick was the only one who ever saw them.

But he knew they did, and it was warming to know that they were just for him to see.

Glancing away from the handsome figure Jason’s profile cut, he looked down at the bag sitting between them. A bag from his favorite French bakery in Gotham. “Did you bring these all the way over from Gotham for me?” He questioned, knowing if he opened the bag, he would find the beignets he was in love with.

When he looked back up to Jason, he found the younger man looking at him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Goldie,” he said softly, the tone such a contrast to the image the man next to him projected out to the world. He watched Jason swing his legs over the ledge and stand on the rooftop with practiced ease and Dick straightened, frowning.

“Are you leaving?” He questioned, confused why he would leave after only a few minutes.

“Got some things I need to handle tonight, but I wanted to make sure you knew you were on my mind. Even if I couldn’t spend the whole night with you like I wish I could.” Dick’s lips parted, unsure what to say in response. He wanted to ask what kinds of things, but he also didn’t actually want to know the answer to that. “I left you something back in your apartment. Call me once you open it.”

There was something in his tone that made Dick’s eyes narrow slightly, but he said nothing when Jason pressed a kiss to his cheek and jumped off the rooftop.

Later that night he let Jason make his intentions clear over the phone as he held the silver band that was embedded with rubies as red as blood in his clenched fist. And when Jason had finished, Dick accepted the offer of protection and assistance during his next heat. And all the ones to follow. Until Dick’s Omega made it clear he was ready for the final bond.

Much to his Omega’s delight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2. Valentine’s Day Year 2: The Line Drawn

“What do you mean you’re out of town?” Bruce’s voice sounded from Dick’s cellphone where it sat on the countertop in the hotel room bathroom where he was styling his hair.

Sighing, Dick glanced over his shoulder to see if Jason was paying attention to him or if he was still on the phone with his contact. “I mean exactly what I said, Bruce. Jason asked me to come with him while he handled a few things, and we left this morning. I’m in New York so you’ll have to call in Kate or someone to help you.” But Dick knew Kate was currently pissed at Bruce so that wasn’t likely to happen.

“What kind of things? Dick…”

“Don’t, Bruce,” he warned. This was becoming a point of contention between the two heroes. Bruce didn’t like the underworld Jason had been building for the past two years and Dick had found a way to accept it. His mentor and pack Alpha had expressed his many concerns and Dick had told him to deal with it because unless Jason suddenly went on a murder spree, Dick was in it all the way. He wasn’t going to turn his back on Jason.

Dick as a man had decided Jason was who he wanted to be with. His Omega needed just a bit more reassurance that Jason’s lifestyle could provide a comfortable life for them. Especially since Dick was capable of taking care of himself. His future mate, Jason or whoever, had a hard path of proving themselves to him. And while Dick didn’t follow many social norms when it came to his secondary gender, this was one he couldn’t just ignore. Not unless he wanted an unsettled and pissed Omega prowling inside him.

“Look, B, this is happening. I am here with Jason and he is the alpha I’m allowing to seriously court me,” Dick picked up the phone and took it off speaker as he turned and leaned against the counter. With the phone pressed to his ear, he could hear the silence on the other end. “Either you can support me on this, or we will have to have a serious talk about my place in the pack.”

He hadn’t wanted to give Bruce any ultimatums, but he was tired of the constant push back he got on this. He understood Bruce’s reservations, but he wasn’t God. And he didn’t get to dictate their lives anymore. Especially not Jason’s. Dick would never say it to Bruce’s face (but had to Jason’s when he admitted to having killed the Joker with his bare hands), but he didn’t know why the Joker was still alive and well either. He knew why Bruce felt he couldn’t kill him, but Dick also knew if he had been the one to die Bruce wouldn’t have clenched onto that moral so tightly.

Listening to some shuffling in the background of the call, Dick looked over at Jason as his form filled the doorway. He gave a nod when Jason mouthed ‘are you okay?’ and just waited for Bruce to get his thoughts in line. Jason gave him one last meaningful look before tapping his watch and signaling ten minutes before turning to go back into the main bedroom of the suite.

“I don’t want to lose you in this pack. You are my son.” Dick hummed but didn’t say anything because he knew Bruce well enough to know he wasn’t finished. He did turn to make sure his hair was all in place and to glance at his clothing to be sure everything was as it should be. The black dress shirt was tucked perfectly into the black slacks that hugged him in all the ways Jason loved and the red tie was a perfect match to the all too familiar Red Hood emblem on the anti-hero’s nightly costume. “I cannot condone the relationship you two have been in, but I am willing to…to try.”

“That’s all I’m asking, B. Just try.” The man grunted over the phone and Dick forced himself not to sigh again. Instead, he shook his head and headed into the bedroom to find Jason had left his suit coat out on the bed and his shoes on the floor below it. “Look, I have to go. We can talk more when I get back.”

“Fine. Be careful.”

“Always am,” he said cheerfully as he sat down on the bed to pull his shoes on. Once the call had ended, he dropped the phone onto the bed and quickly got the black dress shoes on before standing and tugging on his suit coat.

“How’s the old man? Worried I’m going to force you to shoot someone in the head?” Dick rolled his eyes as he slipped his phone and wallet into his pants and made his way over to where Jason stood just outside of the bedroom, watching him through the open French doors.

Dick didn’t bother to respond to the comment as he watched Jason’s eyes travel from his face to his feet and back up again. Instead, he pressed himself against the other man and looked up at him with a smirk.

“I really like seeing you in my colors, Dickie,” Jason’s voice was hushed, heavy with meaning as Dick slid a hand up the red dress shirt Jason wore. The same red of the tie wrapped around Dick’s neck. He felt Jason’s hand grip his hip as he slipped his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Jason’s neck and it just made Dick press closer. “We’re gonna be late.”

But Dick didn’t care right then as he press his lips to Jason’s and took what he wanted for a moment. And from Jason’s other hand wrapping around his back to hold him even closer, it didn’t seem like he minded either. But all too quickly, Jason was pulling away from him with a huff.

“I used too many good connections to get us these reservations, baby. No way am I losing our table because you want to skip straight to dessert,” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to Dick’s mouth before stepping away completely and grabbing his own suit coat. “Come on, the car is already downstairs.”

Dick pouted but allowed Jason to grab his hand and pull him out of the hotel suite toward the elevator.

“By the way, did you really let Bruce think I brought you here for a job and not Valentine’s Day?” Dick just grinned and shrugged a shoulder, causing Jason to let out a laugh as they stepped onto the elevator.

“He should know by now you’ll never let me anywhere near your business.”

“Fuck no I won’t,” Jason confirmed. “You’d have those bastards all working for you in a matter of minutes and then where would I be?” Dick let out a snort as the door shut and they began their descent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3. Valentine’s Day Year 3: The Proposal

Dick dropped his keys onto the hook that Jason had placed near his door, sick of the amount of times Dick had managed to lose his keys and driven to do something to prevent another headache over it. But each time Dick stepped into Jason’s place and hung them on their designated hook, he couldn’t help but smile at the flutter it sent through his stomach. It wasn’t a permanent fixture, but it was something Jason had taken the time out to find, paint to match his oddly coordinated home, and put up just for Dick. It hadn’t been for Jason since the alpha never used it, but solely for his omega to make life a little easier.

And Dick could recall a dozen different instances where the man did things just like that without being asked or asking. Just found little ways to make Jason’s home feel like Dick’s home, despite him having his own place.

“Jay?” He called out as he shrugged off his jacket and laid it on the back of the couch in the living room, not seeing the alpha anywhere. A quick peek in the kitchen showed he wasn’t there but had been recently because Dick could smell whatever it was that was cooking in the oven. From what he remembered Jason saying, he planned on staying in since it was Valentine’s Day and it had become their day. So the fact that he wasn’t out there to greet Dick was a little odd.

“Jay?” He tried again, moving toward the bedroom. He stuck his head into the room and found the man in question pacing the length of the room while holding his cell phone to his ear. Dick smiled at the man when he finally noticed him in the doorway and nodded when Jason held up a finger telling him he needed another minute.

“I already told you I was offline for the night. Call Thomas and have him handle it. He’s my second for a goddamn reason,” Jason growled into the phone as he moved over to Dick and leaned over to give him a quick kiss. “Handle it. I’m hanging up now before I get angry and you get the brunt of that.”

Dick couldn’t hear what the other person said in return, but it was enough to make Jason grunt and hang up the phone so it must have been fine. “Hey Handsome,” Dick smiled up at Jason as the Alpha’s arm slipped around his waist, pulling Dick’s body flush with his own.

“Blue Bird,” Jason greeted softly, leaning in for another kiss. Though this one was more than just a press of lips. This one held promises and taunted him with what Dick knew Jason would deny him right then. “Come on, I need to check on dinner. And you need some wine.”

Dick smiled and let Jason lead him back to the kitchen where he leaned against the counter with his hip and watched Jason check on the pot roast and veggies in the oven before he poured them each a glass of champagne. He took the flute from Jason with a smile before lifting the glass in a silent cheers and taking a sip. But something caught his eye when he pulled the glass away from his lips. A glint that shouldn’t have been coming from his cup.

“Is that…” He gasped, leaning over the sink and pouring the drink out to get to the item inside his glass.

“Awww, that’s the expensive stuff, Dickie. Did you have to waste it?” Dick rolled his eyes as the ring fell into the palm of his hand. A band that would match the one that had been on his finger since Jason had given it to him two Valentine’s Days ago. “Dickie…” Jason’s voice was quiet, unsure but Dick’s focus was on the ring.

“Are you…?” He started to ask as he turned to look at Jason, only to find him down on one knee. “You are. Oh my god.” His empty hand flew to his mouth and his eyes went wide.

Jason chuckled before taking the hand that held the ring in it, taking the item so he could slip it on Dick’s finger. And the Omega had been right, it looked perfect next to the previous one. Like they had been made for each other. Which, knowing Jason, they had been.

“I don’t really have anything planned to say, other than I love you more than I can say, Dickie. And I have spent the past three years trying to show you and your Omega that I can provide you with the best and most comfortable life possible, if you would let me.” Dick watched him take a deep breath and he waited with bated breath. “If you would be willing, I would like you to give me your bite at your next heat.”

Dick knew what was expected of him to say in return, but his brain was mush. He had never thought Jason would make a production of this moment, but he should have. The man who had turned a Hallmark Holiday into their own special day would definitely make a gesture like this. Big but private. Just like the two of them like to do things.

“Dickie?”

“Yes,” he rushed out, his brain finally getting it together. “I accept your offer and would like to receive your bite in return.” And while he wished he had more time to take in the brilliance of the smile Jason gave him at those words, he wasn’t going to complain about the kiss he got instead. Especially not when he could literally feel his toes curl as Jason pressed him back into the counter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4. Valentine’s Day Year 4: The Year that Almost Wasn’t

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it happen all over again. The sniper in the shadows of the fourth story window of the building across the street and him on the ground watching the gunman watching Jason as he talked to Bruce on the rooftop across from where he was hidden. He saw the flash of the gunpowder lighting and heard his own scream of Jason’s name before he had to watch in horror as Jason’s body jolted with the hit and he slumped forward into Bruce’s body.

He didn’t need to look back to the sniper’s perch to know that one of Jason’s own had taken him out. The follow up gunshot was enough to tell him that he could focus solely on his mate. His mate who hadn’t been wearing any armour because he wasn’t talking to Batman as Red Hood, but Jason Todd talking to Bruce Wayne.

It took all of Dick’s strength to pull himself up the fire escape of the building and run to Jason’s side.

“Jay, oh god,” he had gasped. He had pressed with all his might against the exit wound and looked at Bruce with pleading eyes as he called 911 and demanded an airlift out of there. He had listened to Bruce use his family name to get his way, something he rarely did. “Just hang in there, okay? Please, Jay. Just…please.”

He had begged.

And then he had allowed the medical personnel to push him out of the way as they took over. Now he sat in the waiting room of Gotham General waiting to hear word on whether or not his mate of less than a year would survive. The same mate he was supposed to be out on a Valentine’s Day date with right then.

“Master Dick,” Alfred’s gentle voice pulled him out of his thoughts, drawing his gaze to the man standing in front of him. “I’ve brought you a change of clothes. Perhaps you should wash up in the bathroom?” His eyes fell onto the bag in Alfred’s hand and then to his own hands that were still covered in Jason’s hands.

“We’ll come get you if the doctor comes out, Dick,” Tim sounded from beside him and Dick sighed. They were right, he knew it, but the thought of not being there when the doctor brought word made his chest seize.

It wasn’t until a small hand landed on his shoulder that he nodded. “Come, Richard. I will accompany you if you would like?” Pushing to his feet, Dick took the bag from Alfred and looked down at Damian.

“Thanks, Little D, but I’ll be okay. Just…” He glanced over at Alfred and then Bruce, who gave a nod of understanding. Bruce would come get him if the doctor came out. It was a silent promise. But it was one he could trust. So he made his way over to the bathroom in the private waiting room being the family of Bruce Wayne got them, and got to work.

Putting the bag on the counter next to the sink, Dick looked at himself in the mirror and cringed. He had his blue dress shirt sleeves rolled up and Jason’s blood was streaked over his forearms and painting his hands as if someone had poured red paint over them. There were splatters of blood on his chest and a streak along his neck at his pulse points where Jason had reached for him but had been unable to keep his hand up for long. He looked like a horror show.

So he slowly unbuttoned the shirt after turning on the tap to warm, shrugging out of the shirt and laying it on the counter. He would put it in the bag and maybe Alfred could save it. Or he could burn it if needed. He took his time to wet his bloodied skin and then slowly used the provided soap to scrub away at the blood on his skin. He started with his forearms and worked his way down to his hands. He knew it would be tough to get it all without a scrubber, but he could get the majority at least.

He was working on the streak at his neck when Bruce appeared in the mirror, standing a few feet behind him. Dick didn’t say anything but paused in what he was doing to look at his father figure through the reflection.

“Are you okay?”

The question made Dick frown before he went back to scrubbing Jason’s blood off his neck. “Is the doctor here?” He questioned, ignoring the question that he knew Bruce already knew the answer to.

“The nurse just came out and said he should be here in about five minutes.” Dick gave a nod before leaning forward to splash some water on his neck to get the remaining blood and soap off his skin. His nails were still red from the blood, but other than that he had managed to get most of it off. Grabbing a few paper towels, he dried off his skin as best he could before tossing them and pulling out the black sweater that Alfred had brought him, ignoring the pants and shoes because he wanted to be out there already when the doctor showed up. “Dick…”

“I’m not okay Bruce, how could I be? My mate was shot by a sniper and I am still painted in his blood. I just want to get out there and hear if I’m going to have to bury him for a second time in my life,” Dick spat out, turning to glare at Bruce directly. He tugged the sweater on with jerky movements, pausing a moment to take in Jason’s familiar scent and sent a silent prayer of thanks for a man like Alfred being in his life.

But the moment was short lived as he grabbed his ruined shirt and shoved it inside the bag before heading for the door. He jerked his elbow out of Bruce’s grip when the older man tried to stop him, growling in warning.

“I’m just worried about you,” Bruce tried again, but Dick just shook his head and pushed the door open. He didn’t say anything to any of the others when he reentered the waiting room, moving to take the spot between Tim and Damian again with a weary sigh. He knew what Bruce was worried about. The bond was still new and the risks of going feral when a bond hadn’t had the chance to fully settle was high. Dick knew that. But Jason wasn’t dead. Not yet. So long as Dick could still feel him in his chest, just as he had since the night he and Jason exchanged bites, then he would be fine. He just needed to hear from the doctor that his mate would make it.

Because though the bond was still there, it was weak.

He hadn’t even noticed he had been rubbing at his chest until Damian’s smaller hand slipped into his and pulled his hand away from the spot where Jason’s presence always sat. He looked down at his brother and gave him a small smile of thanks before glancing up at the sound of the door. The sight of the doctor coming in brought him to his feet, still gripping Damian’s hand.

“Are you the mate and pack of Jason Todd?” The doctor looked right at Dick and the Omega nodded, stepping forward, Damian in tow. “He’s going to be just fine,” the woman informed them, and Dick’s breath escaped him in a rushing woosh. “We had worried of a spinal graze, but he is awake and able to move his toes. And we were able to stop any internal bleeding and safely provided a transfusion to replenish his blood.”

“Can I see him?” Dick asked, relief so palpable he was certain the others could taste it.

The doctor nodded and gestured him forward. “I can bring you to him now, but just you. Visiting hours are over so the remainder of you will have to wait here until 7am or come back.” Dick looked over at Bruce who looked like he wanted to argue but when he locked eyes with Dick, nodded.

“We’ll come back later,” he said instead, looking at Dick for approval. And Dick was just glad the alpha wasn’t fighting the doctor on this. He didn’t need that stress right now. He just wanted to see his mate. Looking down at Damian, he gave his brother’s hand a squeeze before releasing it.

He said he goodbyes, making sure to thank Alfred for the clothes, before following the doctor into the hallway to Jason’s room. “He might be sleeping again, but he was awake when I left him. The nurses will be checking his vitals, but he should be well enough to leave in a few days’ time. The bullet missed the vital organs, he was incredibly lucky in a very unlucky situation.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Dick said quietly as they came to a stop in front of the room marked 438. He made a mental note to text the room number to Bruce later. But that thought was pushed away when the door was opened for him and revealed a drowsy looking Jason watching him. “Jay,” he breathed out, rushing to the beside and taking up the hand stretched toward him.

“Mate,” Jason rasped, blinking slowly up at Dick. And he could easily tell it was a fight for the Alpha to still be awake, but Dick could admit he was glad he was. “Are you okay? Can feel you…” He watched Jason tap his chest and frown.

Dick just let out a laugh and leaned down to press his mouth against Jason’s. “I was scared out of my fucking mind,” he admitted when he pulled back. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. Let’s not do this again, okay?” He watched Jason let out a soft laugh, nodding as his eyes slipped closed for a moment before snapping open again. “Sleep, Jay. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Hmm,” the Alpha hummed, letting his eyes close for good this time. “Love you, Blue Bird.”

“Love you too, Jay. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5. Valentine’s Day Year 6: The First as Fathers

Dick was exhausted.

James and him had been home from the hospital for barely a week and Dick was struggling, even with Jason’s unending help. He knew he just needed enough time to heal and find a routine, but he thought that a week would have allowed him to make some steps in the right direction. But he felt like he was failing at everything.

Except James.

The check up earlier in the day had shown the pup was growing steadily already and the doctor commended them both. Breastfeeding was one thing Dick seemed to be a natural at, even if it still felt a little unnatural. At least James was getting what he needed. What else could Dick ask for at this point?

“Hey Baby,” Jason called softly, stepping into the nursery where Dick was currently sitting in the glider while James laid in his arms, sleeping. Dick looked up at his husband and gave a tired smile. “How about I take James and you go enjoy the bath I pulled for you? I put your favorite oils in it.” That sounded nice. And the doctor had said his body was healing nicely and he could take baths again if he wanted.

But the thought of letting go of James for even a small amount of time, despite it being Jason who he’d be giving the baby to, made his entire body tense up in unexplainable fear. And Jason must have scented it because he took a step back and made sure both of his hands were visible to the Omega.

“It’s okay, Dickie. I’m not going to take the pup from you if you don’t want me to,” Jason spoke quietly, gently and Dick could scent the calming pheromones his alpha was releasing to try and comfort him. But it just served to confuse him. Dick knew Jason was to be trusted, but Dick’s Omega wasn’t on the same page apparently. “Remember the doctor said this could happen. It’s okay, your hormones are just adjusting and your instincts are on high alert because you feel off balance.”

Dick looked down at James when he let out a small cry and shifted in his arms, surprised to find how tightly he was clinging to the pup. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his hold on James but still couldn’t push the fear away enough to give him to Jason. “I don’t-” He tried, not sure what he was trying to say. He didn’t want Jason to think he was afraid of him, but he also couldn’t get his Omega to calm down.

“How about I bring the bassinet into the bathroom? Then you can put James inside and he can be right there next to you while you take the bath?” Dick considered that option and while his Omega still felt on edge, he didn’t seem to mind the idea as much as giving James to Jason. So he nodded and stood to follow Jason out of the nursery and watched from their bedroom door way as his mate picked up the bassinet to bring into the bathroom.

Following at a measured distance, Dick entered the room and headed into the bathroom. Immediately his Omega relaxed further at the scent of Jasmine and Mint filling the air. The standalone bathtub had been filled with warm water and Jason had even thrown in some rose petals for a nice touch.

Looking over at Jason as he positioned the bassinet right near where Dick’s head would rest, but on the opposite side of the tub keeping him between James and the door, he smiled. “Thank you, Jay,” he said softly. He saw the hesitation in Jason’s eyes as he approached Dick, likely unsure of how the Omega would react to him being close, but Dick just smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of the Alpha’s mouth.

“I’m going to start dinner. Do you need anything?” Glancing around, Dick shook his head and moved over to place James carefully into the bassinet.

“Jay?” Dick called over, stopping his mate before he left the bathroom, “I love you.” Jason gave him a wide smile before he walked out, leaving Dick to get undressed and slip into the warm water. He let out a sigh as his body settled into the tub, slouched down so his chin brushed the top of the water and the rest of his body was submerged.

The massive tub had been one of the things Dick had insisted on in their home. With their line of work, too often they came home or woke up with sore bodies and needed a good soak. But neither were considered short men, though Dick definitely shorter than Jason, so a standard tub wouldn’t do. They shopped around for hours to find one that they could both fit in comfortably. At the same time. And in their almost three years of living there, he didn’t regret it a single time.

Leaning his head back, Dick let himself just enjoy the warmth seeping into his skin and the soft scents floating in the air that reminded him so much of how his parents had smelled. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Jason’s scent filled the space again and he opened his eyes to find the younger man leaning against the doorway.

“Dinner is just about ready. I put some clothes on the bed for you.” Dick smiled lazily and rolled his head to look over at the bassinet where James was still sleeping peacefully.

“You can take him now, I think,” he said, noticing his Omega actually seemed to purr at the idea. Probably because the bath was so wonderful that it reminded him that Jason was there to protect and care for him and the pup. He lifted his head and carefully pushed himself up so he was standing, water sluicing down his still recovering body. He didn’t shy away from Jason’s eye like he had the first couple of days after birth, but instead raised an eyebrow at the man and gestured to the fluffy white towel waiting for him.

Jason only chuckled and grabbed the towel, shaking it open and draping it around Dick’s shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I’ll take James and check his diaper. You get dried off and dressed, then meet me at the table.” Dick only nodded and stepped out of the tub as Jason picked up their pup and headed out of the bathroom again.

Taking his time to dry off and lotion his skin, Dick made his way into the bedroom and pulled on the warm sweats and shirt Jason had left out. Before leaving the room, he grabbed one of Jason’s hoodies out of the closet and tugged it on.

He followed the scent of his mate and pup, as well as the pasta dish Jason had apparently made for dinner, into the dining room to find two dozen red roses in a vase and balloons waiting for him. “It’s Valentine’s Day?” He questioned, not sure how he had managed to forget. He knew he had been focused on James and that time was something he hadn’t really noticed much of, but he couldn’t have blocked out almost two weeks worth of days, could he?

Jason just chuckled and put a hand on the small of his back, leading him over to his usual chair. “You have been preoccupied, but it’s our day so I couldn’t let it pass without some kind of celebration.” Dick sat down on his chair and looked up at Jason, who was smiling down at him. “I love you, Dickie. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Love you too, Jay,” he whispered just before Jason’s lips pressed against his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6. Valentine’s Day Year 0: The Start of it All

Dick barely let his bike come to a stop before he was rushing toward where Alfred and Tim sat at the main computer, watching the screens with rapt attention. He could see the worry on both of their faces when they glanced at him, but said nothing as they turned their attention back to the screens. Dick couldn’t be sure how long the fight had happening before he had seen the footage of it while walking with his Valentine’s Day date to dinner in downtown Gotham. He just hoped it wasn’t too long. Not when Tim was out of commission due to being shot by the very alpha Batman was currently fighting.

“Why didn’t you call me in?!” Dick asked, skidding to a halt and looking at the multiple video feeds on the screen. He could see Batman and the Red Hood from multiple angles, fighting. But every time the older alpha seemed to get a leg up on the other man, the anti-hero seemed to anticipate the move and turned the tables.

“You were on a date, B has this handled,” Tim muttered, typing into the computer as some analytics rolled over the screen. Dick wanted to point out, as Batman took a hit to the chest and fell onto his back, that it didn’t look like he had it handled, but paused when Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Perhaps you should get changed, Master Dick,” the older man raised a brow and Dick nodded, hurrying off toward the locker room to quickly pull on his suit. The moments when he needed to rush, he hated how tight his suit was. When it was pre-patrol calm, he usually took his time and walked around with it half on as he ate and checked his equipment. He didn’t have time to do that tonight.

He just needed to get it on and go help Bruce.

Once he was slipping his arms in, tugging the tight Kevlar protected material over his upper body, he rushed out of the locker room and found Alfred waiting with his mask, belt, and escrimas. “Where are they at Timmy?” He asked, gluing his mask into place and flicking on the lenses before putting his comm into his ear.

“Diamond District, West Elm,” his brother called over, leaning over the keyboard. In a matter of seconds Dick heard the familiar ping of coordinates being sent to his holo and he tapped the link on his mask. Putting his escrimas onto his back, hooked up his belt and hurried toward his patrol bike.

“Master Dick! Your blockers!” Pausing, Dick looked back to Alfred hurrying over with the familiar patches. As quickly as he could, probably more quickly than he should have, he took them and placed them over his scent glands and didn’t bother pausing to make sure they were placed correctly before he finished running to his bike.

He didn’t waste any time in making his way toward the part of the city Tim had sent him on the coordinates, more concerned that the two alphas wouldn’t be there by the time he made it to the right spot. “Give me an update, someone,” he called into his comm as he made a sharp turn and weaved through the cars still out this late.

“Nightwing,” Oracle’s voice filtered through his comm link and he sighed. He could handle Barbara’s ability to remain level headed. Tim had been stressing and Dick wasn’t sure that was a good mix at the moment. Especially not with a bullet wound that was still fresh. “They are still in the same area, sending updated coordinates. You look about five minutes out.”

“Copy, thanks O.”

“Be safe. This is not an ordinary alpha, he hasn’t even attempted to hide that fact and if he catches wind of you being an omega who knows what he will do.” He hated the warning, but he understood it. He knew that socially, people thought him to be a weaker gender. He knew he wasn’t, but most alphas still prescribed to the idea that he was somehow less than they were.

“Copy.”

He didn’t bother to say anything about how he could take care of himself or that he didn’t need to be told to be careful, because Babs already knew that. As an omega herself, she was well aware that Dick knew his limitations and when he could push them. He had taken down alphas easily before, but Red Hood seemed to be trained in a way none of them had ever seen. He didn’t know what to make of it.

Coming to a screeching halt, Dick hid his bike in the shadows of the alleyway, listening to the obvious sounds of fists hitting flesh on the rooftop above him. He wasted no time in pulling out his grapple and aiming for the rooftop adjacent, wanting to get a look at the situation in person before stepping in. And he was glad he had once he was up there and could see that the fight had gotten to the point where Red Hood’s helmet had a hole punched into it right over his left eye, exposing the domino mask he wore underneath it.

Dick could also smell hints of something smoky, warm and he figured it must the be the Alpha’s unfiltered scent. But what he didn’t know was why his Omega suddenly ached to go to the man. Why did the scent feel welcoming? Why did it feel like…like home?

But he couldn’t focus on that right then. Not with Batman on the ground, taking Red Hood’s blows as best he could. Dick could tell he was running out of steam, but the anti-hero wasn’t even struggling. So he backed up and easily made the running jump from one rooftop to the next, his landing near silent but loud enough that Red Hood paused in mid-punch and looked right at Nightwing as he crouched on the gravely rooftop.

It gave Batman the opening he needed though and soon enough Red Hood was being launched away from him with a kick and the older man was getting to his feet. “Nightwing, you need to leave,” Bruce’s voice came out rougher than usual and Dick wondered what had happened to cause that. “Your blockers aren’t working.” That caused Dick to pause, raising a hand to his neck to feel that sure enough one of his blockers had detached and half of his scent glands were exposed.

“Dick?” His name came out as a whisper, shocked and almost awed despite the robotic tone it was said in. And it did not come from the man who should actually know his name.

Frowning, Dick looked at Red Hood and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. “How do you know that name?” Batman demanded, prowling forward. But Red Hood easily sidestepped him and knocked him off his feet again before closing most of the distance between him and Dick.

Dick watched, thankful for the white lenses of his mask hiding most of his shock, as Red Hood removed the rest of his mask and revealed his face underneath.

It couldn’t be.

“Jason?” Dick gasped, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to touch the man’s face.

“Nightwing, no!” Batman called out but Dick ignored him and closed the last few feet between him and the man he thought was dead.

He tried to ignore the flinch Jason made when he got close enough to touch the man’s cheekbone with his glove covered hand but froze in fear of scaring him off. “But…how? You died, how is this possible?” He was caught off guard when Jason reached up and took Dick’s hand, closing the remaining distance to his cheek. He watched, shocked, as Jason let out a rush of air and he knew that if he could see the Alpha’s eyes they would be closed right then.

“Get away from him,” Bruce growled behind Jason and before Dick could stop him, Bruce had grabbed him and pulled him away from him.

“Stop!” Dick cried out, reaching for Jason. The action surprised not only Dick but Bruce because the man stopped and turned wide eyes onto his eldest. “Stop, B. Just…” He couldn’t explain it without sounding crazy. But his Omega was prowling and ready to lunge at Bruce right then. That had never happened.

“I’ll go,” Jason rasped, and Dick let out a whine without meaning to. “I’ll be back, I promise. But…we’re done, Old Man. I’m done. I…” Dick watched Jason struggle to speak his mind. But he seemed to steel himself as he trailed off and looked back to Dick. “I’ll find you. I know you smell it. I want…I’ll find you.” And Dick could only nod, remaining quiet as the Alpha backed away from them and fell off the edge of the building.

He ignored Bruce turning blazing eyes on him and kept his own on the space Jason had been standing just a moment ago, the promise lingering in his mind.

He would find him.

#omega dick grayson #alpha jason todd #alpha/beta/omega verse #conversations in the dark au #dick grayson #jason todd #anikah writes

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