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the-one-and-only-043 · 6 months ago

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043

They speak three languages- Latin, Russian, and English.

They're fucking LOADED. Morales is absolutely terrified of them, so he tries to make sure they have as few reasons to talk to him as possible. This is why they have access to Literally Everything.

They have several metal/computery bits! Their brain is a computer (literally), their oculars are more like eyes than implants, and their teeth/jaws are solid metal.

Sicarius isn't the only alternate OS they have. There's also Null, who keeps everything running smoothly, and Eidolon's remnants- they're a maniac and a cannibal, to boot.

Knockout

He actually used to be a medic before he met Breakdown. As such, he still works a shift in the medical wing now and again.

He doesn't have a handler! Neither does Breakdown. The EOD says it's because they're capable enough on their own, but it's really because they get so shmoopy on comms that anyone who listens feels the sudden urge to puke.

His real name is Damian Emmanuel Woodworth.

His family is RICH rich, but he's gotten himself disowned because he's gay. Still loaded asf tho, mostly because he's one of the Agency's best.

Breakdown

Used to be a construction worker, then he worked for Zoraxis a while, then he met Knockout and fell in love, and defected to the Agency.

He's trans! Not a lot of people clock him as such, because he's fucking MASSIVE (6'7"), which is just fine by him.

His real name is Jack Anderson Woodworth. His maiden name is Hayes.

His family is all in the construction business. Kindest people you'll ever meet. You leave there about twenty pounds heavier, and with leftovers to boot.

Drift

He doesn't remember much about his past, but he does remember Greaves. Being saved by the good doctor is the only thing he can recall clearly.

Acts like a hippie. Kinda is. Is also fucking deadly and a very good fighter.

Crystal nerd, also religious. He will absolutely tell you Everything There Is To Know about Spectralism and crystals.

He's in his late fifties. Has not aged visibly.

Greaves

He saved Drift from overdosing on some kind of hard drug years ago, and when Drift showed up in Agency custody, he put in a good word.

Created Drift's job title so he could stay close. Partly so he can keep an eye on him and partly because he wants to spend time with Drift.

Is also in his late fifties. Has not aged as gracefully as Drift has, although that's a damn high bar to clear. Doing pretty good, considering.

He's actually the one that came up with the Van Squad nickname. Refuses to tell anyone but 043 that though.

Uuuuh @sacred-sky

OC Facts Tag Game

Saw this post from @davycoquette

Because I saw it, I will now give fun facts about my OCs!

Rules: Make a list of fun facts about your OCs. Like a headcanon list if you will. Except it’s canon.

Kae

Kae can accurately throw slippers quite far so most people avoid angering her.

Despite her reputation for said slipper tossing, she's quite soft on children.

However, if she was allowed to swear, I'd say the chances of her swearing (when children aren't present) is over half.

Despite her visual similarity to their creator, most people who know her creator do not mistake them as their creator also has purple hair.

Lia

She's the oldest of the plushie clones. Due to this, she can control the younger ones with ease as she knows how their mind works. She rarely does it though.

Out of the others, she's the only one their creator trusts to help make the others.

Some people often mistake her voice with their creators'. The fact their creator sometimes speaks through her doesn't help correct it.

There are rumors she can control more than one plushie body but no one seems to be able to stumble across any proof.

Johannes

He can cook quite well. Mostly because his boss loves to do so. He will also give you a "(¬_¬)" look when you burn food.

He's been given a spell that practically turns him into a walking scanner and printer. As such, he always has blank pieces of paper with him.

His chosen weapon is a shovel.

Due to his boss' occupation, he has developed the ability to spot subtle changes in environment caused by ghosts.

Kazuya

He's a major fan of conlangs and is actively trying to make the most cursed one possible just because he wanted others to suffer reading through his notes. (Someone please give tips on this.)

He had a habit of getting people in trouble by saying the most helpful advice in the most condescending way possible in a bet that they do the opposite. (He has mostly stopped. Mostly. He can and will do it again if you cross him.)

Despite wyverns often having poisoned stingers for tails, he seems to have feathers on his tail that hides the stingers.

He likes putting accessories on his horns, particularly those that sway when one walks or when it's blown by the wind.

Dr. Marcel de Lara

Due to his (extended) family having a tradition of naming their children that starts with the letter "M", he sometimes uses the initials to pin certain requests onto other cousins. They do the same things to him.

His relative deals with a lot of magical illnesses and incidents. He deals with a lot of agents getting hurt in the most dangerous of ways. It probably runs in the family at this rate.

He removes a certain song from songbooks in karaoke establishments because it tends to end in someone getting hurt. No one confronts him about it but they seem to all know he does it.

He most likely is the cousin who plays video games to relax.

Tag list (no pressure (｡･ω･｡)):

@phoenix-and-found-family

@eight-cats-in-a-box

@heycerulean

@ghostlystarwanderer

#043 reblogs #043 lore #agent duo knockdown #support agent drift #cmo dr. robert greaves

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sveasauvageon · 4 years ago

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Forever and ever together, we sail into infinity, We're higher and higher and higher, we're reaching for divinity. || HSWW

☾♔; March 4, 2018 ☾♔; sotd: idk ☾♔; comedian otd: JOHNNY BOY!!! (john oliver) ☾♔; Funsies Doll + Shoutout ☾♔; {G} https://goo.gl/PnjH23 ☾♔; Mod(s): @.miky94

Title: Lyrics from "Euphoria" by Loreen

Okay, maybe I'm getting too invested in this "Gossip Witch" idea. I just love it! I forgot how much I used to love that show. I so wanna make a whole group for it, but experience has shown I suck at running oc battle groups. Idk, maybe.

Also, also, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE join Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry OC Battle Group. There's literally only one spot let. https://goo.gl/PnjH23

Also, also, also, 11:30 hurry up!! I WANNA WATCH LAST WEEK TONIGHT!!!!! *whines*

Featured Not-Mine OC's (I wanted to include some more, but 50 item limit. Not my best doll set, but given all the people in there, I feel okay with it. XP) - Mason Thygeson | @.melophilia-c - Syn Lothbrok | @.ghostpastey - Tavvy Thygeson | @.melophilia-c - Tyler Lee | @.maybones - Damien Greaves | @.natasha-maree13 - Henry Clark | @.lady-stoneheart - Minah Delacroix | @.maybones - Chanel Black | @.daily-donuts - Eloise Avery | @.themadmonarchist - Theo Nott | @.themadmonarchist

#polyvore #doll set #gw #mine #hsww #Svea Sauvageon #syn lothbrok #mason thygeson #tavvy thygeson #damian greaves #Henry Clark #minah delacroix #tyler lee #eloise avery #Theo Nott #luna #kz #may #anna

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uncouth-the-fifth · 3 years ago

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a demonstration of focus

Pairing: Demon’s Head!Damian / Servant!Reader

Tags/Warnings: aged up characters, exh*bitionism, public s*x, servant/master dynamics (consensual), oral (m recieving), deepthr*ating, chair s*x, LoA!Damian, vaginal s*x, handj*bs (mentioned).

Word Count: 3511

Notes: a different friend and I had a conversation about Damian's leading habits ;) let's leave it at that. this isn't in the same storyline as the last loa Damian fic!!

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!!

The war council assembled in the conference room. You thought it was funny that the League of Assassins had a conference room, even if it looked nothing like one with it's domed ceiling and columned walls. The sleek marble stone swept around the group of spies, agents and soldiers, who all stood to one side in a semicircle. Being high-ranking officers, each one of them was poised at their seat, which were marked with nameplates that detailed the country they were from. It was a mock United Nations, and each assassin faced the greatest among them in the center.

On a huge, plush throne, Damian al Ghul finally seated himself. This began the meeting. With a collective bow of respect, the group sat down.

"Agenda," he said, crossing his legs.

You watched the armor plates on his shins glimmer, drawn white where the light hit the engravings of twin dragons. Swallowing down a blush, you did your best not to think about how intimate you'd been with those greaves before.

A soldier at Damian's right began to speak. He explained what the meeting was for and what issues needed to be discussed. Your attention was taken quickly, and then taken again by the assassins Damian had across the globe. From your view at his side, or more appropriately, their view of you at Damian's, they could flick their eyes to your form without disrespecting the Demon's Head.

It had been a long time since Ra's had lead them. So much had changed since then, including Damian's "staff" (if a massive network of spies could be called such a thing). The few of them that had served under Damian's Grandfather hadn't even blinked at you, but the officers and agents new to the League stared at you with pink indignant faces. You stifled a smirk. So they could handle murder, betrayal, resurrection and espionage, but they couldn't handle Damian Al Ghul taking a mistress. How funny.

What was funnier was how in character this was for the Al Ghul, and yet how surprised his soldiers still were. Damian had a thing for proving himself. Judging by how his lip was starting to curl, he was taking notice of all the stares going your way. When the representative from Damian's German operations started shuffling uncomfortably, Damian dipped his head your way and beckoned you toward his throne. As soon as you were close enough he took your hand and brought you in front of him.

"Let's teach them to focus on the task at hand, yes?" Damian whispered with a smirk.

Knowing this was coming, you bowed. "If that is what you'd like, Master."

A familiar glint winked in Damian's eyes at the word. Most of his underlings called him that, but you'd given the word new meaning years ago. The compound had only found out about your entanglement in the last week, but the truth was that it had been going on for a long time. You were simply a servant, born into a family that had served the al Ghuls for decades. When you came of age you began to work on the grounds and in the stables, where you would care for Damian's favorite Mustangs. You had no clue how it happened, but one day you'd passed off the reins to him and your fingers had slunk off in a way that betrayed your crush on him. Plenty of the servants had a crush on Damian. He'd had a handsome build even in his mid-teens, with bronze skin that attracted sunlight like pollen attracted bees, and those magnetic green eyes that would wink at you every time he went horseback riding.

When you were sixteen, your entire life had been fed by his brief flirtations. It wasn't your place to know the Grandson of the Demon beyond what he asked of you as a servant, but Damian loved his horses, and you were the one who took care of them. At first it was long, dangerous stares. You would be filling the troughs with water and feel Damian's eyes refuse to leave your form. He would touch your wrists or neck more than any Al Ghul had ever touched a servant, and his quiet greetings became whispered confessions. Good morning. You look beautiful today. Do you like me?

That last question would always end the conversation. Once Damian asked it he asked it every time, and every time you were forced to give him the same answer. I serve you, Master.

But Damian was smart enough to see your infatuation with him. For a while, you'd pitied yourself with reasons not to answer his question in the way he wanted. You were a servant. Damian could be toying with you, using you as some adventurous distraction from his training. Being with you in any way would be taboo. If Ra's was feeling particularly wrathful that day, you might even be tortured over it. The only reason Damian liked you was because you were one of his only options. But he did have all those other girls Ra's was forcing on him, the ones more equipped for his lineage , which you knew meant that they were enough royal or had enough power to meet the Demon's standards. Still, Damian would find ways to talk to you or touch you.

So you were moved from the stables to his personal circle of servants. Instead of cleaning saddles you were doing Damian's laundry or polishing his weapons. The closer you grew in secret, the deeper his stares became. Often, you were nineteen and he was nineteen, and you would be left alone together... just a servant and her master, with nothing else going on at all.

The sex was incredible. The danger of it, being caught associating with one another, turned it from innocent experimenting to life-or-death love making. You would be among the two or three servants who bathed Damian, and he would send the others away before he was done and have you wash the rest of him. That was true intimacy. You would press your face into his thick, muscular back and wrap your arms around him from behind, pumping soap along his manhood under the water. No one had ever touched him like this, so you could listen to his choked groans and know that they were all yours. If he was desperate for you he would beg you to join him, and you'd make tender love over the side of the tub, breathing in time with one another.

You couldn't lay together in bed, read together, or spend much time together at all out of fear of discovery, so the only moments you could be together were those. Damian would take any ounce of love that he could get. He'd fuck you viciously in a secluded part of the stables, pants around his thighs and hammering into you like a madman. He'd sneak his way into the servant showers and cover your mouth while he pumped you full with cum, the other servants just a curtain away. He'd even carry you into his room after a long day of missions or training to kiss every inch of you, then fill you with every inch of him. When he needed a quick stress relief Damian would summon you to his quarters and fuck his dick down your throat. But for someone above you, he was very aware of your needs. You became so close (and perhaps so in love) that you could come to him for the same and he would pleasure you for as long as he could last.

All you had ever known was service, and to think outside it, outside of all the old women in your family that had done nothing in their lives, was tantalizingly forbidden. Damian was the only part of your life that you could enjoy. Not once did you allow yourself to dream beyond what you had, but you'd never been special to someone. Never been someone's favorite. You'd never been anything but the laundry girl or the polishing girl or the working girl, but suddenly Damian's soft kisses under moonlight transformed you into royalty.

You remembered laying with him after a round of vicious sex at twenty, Damian wrapped around you like a cobra, kissing your neck. He had laid there and just looked at you. No one had ever gazed at you before, so you decided then that you would do anything for Damian. Give him a massage when he asked? Always. Stay with him as he became the Demon's Head? Without question. Blow him in front of his agents to prove a point?

Well, here you were.

You kneeled between his legs. The room went quiet in shock. The agent reading the agenda trailed off into a coughing fit, and Damian spread his legs to give you access. You'd done this so many times that Damian knew to help keep your hair out of your face, but other than that he sat straight in his seat and paid attention, like there wasn't a girl kissing all over the front of his pants as the meeting went on around him.

Damian looped his finger in the air to summon the attention of the room. Like he'd ever lost it. "Continue."

Damian's bulge hung heavy in his pants. It was so big that it didn't sit just at his front, but had to squeeze down the length of his pantleg. You found his tip with ease because of the position, rolling your tongue against it's shape and sucking through the fabric. But the almost-taste of pre-cum was impossible to resist, so you got to work at pulling open his trousers.

"B-but sir..." his speaking soldier said.

Damian raised his sharp brow. "Did I tell you to stop?"

"No, sir, but..."

Without so much as a moan, grunt or a hiss, Damian balanced his elbows on the arms of his seat and folded his hands, expectant. "But nothing. We have important matters to get to. Begin."

He may have been speaking to the assembly, but you started your own work too. Just wrapping your hand around his base had you swallowing, but it was the way that the thick, heavy body popped out and smacked against his abs that really turned you on. Whatever embarrassment you had was totally forgotten. Free, the weight of his dick fell between his legs, where you dipped your head to pool your spit across it. The room was silent but for the awkward stuttering of the soldier going over the agenda... and your lips puckering against Damian's vieny cock.

Your spit popped and schlicked as your spread it properly, kissing at his heavy head. If Damian was the Demon's Head, then you were his most faithful worshipper, taking his burden on your knees. Yes, Damian had suggested that doing something dramatic like this would make the opinions of his soldiers changed (it was a huge show of dominance), but you knew this was an excuse to explore his fantasies too. His expression was perfectly manipulated into flat control. His hands weren't shaking. His eyes didn't drop to yours one time. To the soldiers, it looked like Damian could be totally honed in on battle strategy while getting the best blow job of his life.

You made sure every single person in that room knew how phenomenal it was, too. Mouth watering, you pumped Damian's base with tiny, tempting circles, playing at his head with your tongue. To warm him up you rolled his tip against the inside of your cheek, lapping under at the ridge where the shaft of his dick began. Just the top of his cock fit in your mouth without any push, so you could comfortably sit with your mouthful and suckle on the salty flavor. Since conversation was edging toward normal again (well, as normal as it could be), you pushed yourself so Damian's cockhead squeezed into the block in your throat and moaned. High and needy, grinding the muffled vibration into his dick.

Where the soldiers couldn't tell, Damian's thighs had tensed to rock and his toes curled in his boots.

That was when your breath gave up on you. You dragged it out until you were choking on him, throat constricting for any breath it could get, tightening around the first inch of cock. The brutal tease always got something out of Damian, but now his eyes didn't dare to catch yours. He ignored you to deliver orders to his African spies, and the deep, silky tone of leadership in his voice spilled slick between your legs. He was so hot. So fucking hot.

While you took back your breath, your eyes burned into Damian's face, daring him to look down at you. He would have seen his beloved panting hard around his cock, so devoted to him that you couldn't even bring yourself to pull it out of your mouth all the way to breathe. Damian didn't look. He was too good for that. But you would make him, break him, no matter what it took.

That first section had just been a warm up, anyway. You caught something about sabotage in Greece before you invested yourself in your own mission, which had upgraded to real work. Damian's cock was lathered properly with spit now, so you locked your lips around his manhood and started to move. No matter how deep the bob, no matter the angle, you kept your lips closed against his hot, salty skin and gulped. It was so easy that you could go lower without a hitch, but Damian was still playing leader. You could drool and mewl and choke down half of his girth, but he wouldn't even flinch. Determined to draw this out, you drew off him to tease him with kisses instead.

"I want the squadron in that area moved to the East," Damian ordered. He grabbed your jaw in one hand, squeezing until your glossy lips opened, and plunged your head onto his cock. Once his bulbous tip was in your throat, he moved his hand to the back of your head and pressed down. Your hot throat resisted, until you forced it to give and welcome your favorite cock. "They'll be more equipped there," Damian continued, casually, "and we'll have better access to them."

You gagged, gurgled and choked, but Damian wouldn't let you go. The only way you could describe deepthroaing him was... full. So full. His dick gave you little room to move. There was spit flowing from your glossed mouthful, your nose, and dripping in sticky cables down Damian's cockmeat. He tasted delicious, too, warm and salty and sweet. Nothing had ever been sexier. If it sounded good, tasted good, it must have looked insane. The soldiers got to watch you worship Damian's slobbery cock, ass up and head bent. Damian's view had to be the greatest of all. He got to watch up close as your throat squeezed around him, drooled around him, and your lips puffed against him.

You came in your underwear, delirious.

Damian was hardly throbbing. You collapsed against him, gasping for breath with his cock still half in your cheek. You suckled sweet-tasting saliva off of his tip, but not a lick of it was pre-cum.

Fine. Last measures, then.

Standing on shaking legs, you toed off your dress and laid your aching knees beside Damian's. This hadn't been apart of the plan, but Damian must have been hoping for it based on his lack of objection. Sweet hands welcome you into his lap, caress your thighs, and then pry off your underwear. He's still talking about something League related, and at this point you don't know if it's impressive or annoying that he doesn't make a noise when you slide his tip against the mouth of your heat. You're a moaning, sputtering mess at that point, mewling for Damian to fuck you, regardless of the audience you're facing. You brace your hands on the gaurds on Damian's knees and drag your pussy lips through the spit shining on him, while he orders his men and rubs his huge tip against your aching clit.

You squeeze him inside of you the second Damian lets you. A genuine moan spills from your mouth, a sound like the girls in fantasies make, and suddenly his massive cock is throbbing in time with your pulsing heat. You're all the way on him, getting every little sensation. Damian twitches and twinges. But the moment you try to ride him, Damian sears his grip to your hips and forces you back into place. It fills you to the core with dick, but dick without friction. You try to beg him, but your moans are dismissed as he makes another request of his agents.

Every time you try and bounce, Damian will force you back into place. When you go to grind on him, he slaps your ass to hurt and then continues what he's saying. He literally uses you as a cockwarmer. You go to the end of the meeting like that, glued onto his cock, elbows struggling to hold you up on his knees, forced to milk him in place for all you can get. It's excellent, in it's own way. Staying still makes the stretch more noticeable, and helps your slick leak free and coat his balls. Any one who wanted to look in the room could, and they would see you flailing to get anything more than Damian's dick stuffing you full. His cock is so big that you can only see your pussy's pink outer ring choked under it.

"Up," Damian finally orders. A few of the soldiers look relieved, but it's not them he's talking to.

You stand, winded. Not that it matters with how little time you're given to recover. Damian almost throws you onto his throne, jerking up your hips and sliding you into place on your knees against it. He's making a speech on the value of secrecy while he pumps his cock, coats his tip on your entrance, and resumes fucking you. Your cunt squelches and pulses, muscles tensing and untensing wildly, swallowing his cock as it's plunged into you. If you cum three times it's because your nerves are as sensitive as static, gravitated to any touch of any kind. And Damian does nothing but touch you. His broad, thick-knuckled hands pick up your ass and hips in doughy handfuls. The veins in his arms jump as he locks you into place and uses you at his leisure. For every time you interrupt him, Damian delivers a deadly strike to your ass, fixing his pelvis to your pussy until your flesh starts to bruise.

"And lastly, I feel that the behavior of some of the officers in this room should be addressed," Damian carried on. "Don't think I haven't noticed the ill-treatment of those below your ranks. We are all the League, and the League respects itself. It cares for it's own, as superior officer," he thrust, "Demon's Head," he bucked, "or servant."

You gasped for more. You gasped for Damian to cum all over you, so he slid out of your dripping cunt and, without a single change in his regal expression, turned you onto your back and spurted warm seed across your middle. He painted you long enough to pool cum between your tits and drown your lips in white. Damian was cumming even as you lapped up his mess, and he kept going until his stores were empty and every sexual part of you was dripping with him. You felt dribbles of seed pulsing down your inner thighs.

"Well done," Damian praised. He snapped his fingers, "Clean up your mess and you may be finished."

Feeling every stare in the room on your cum-slathered form, you gladly sat up and licked Damian's softening cock. In just a few laps and slurps, your master's dick was left only with a clean coat of saliva.

And there you were, on his throne with Damian al Ghul's dick sideways across your lips, frosted with long rivulets of rich cum, on display to everyone in the room. Damian's performance was flawless, so each soldier that had ever questioned his focus bent their heads to the floor. His eyes gleamed. They'd certainly learned their lesson.

But you would never mind if Damian decided that they needed a second.

Or a third. Or a tenth.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #dc smut #dc comics #dc #dc comics smut #user uncouth

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gothamcitycentral · 3 years ago

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What do you think would be the batfam and other rogues reaction to Croc death?

(For the record, this is just my interpretation of the relations between characters, as DC canon is anything but consistent)

I think it would hit Roy the hardest. He would probably fall down a rabbit hole of “I should have done something!”/“I should have been me!” But he has Jason and Kori to pull him out.

But Jason would also take it terribly. He would lash out for a while, maybe hunt down who ever caused Waylon’s death, if someone did. He keeps thinking of the Lazarus Pit, but ultimately he knows Waylon wouldn’t want that. His life was practically defined by suffering, and no one could erase that pain.

June Moone would isolate herself for a few days as she greaves. Waylon left her life so she could finally have one close to normal, but there was always a hope she’d see him again. But now that hope was as dead as Croc.

His death would cloud Bruce’s mind for a while. Another person he couldn’t save. He would organize the funeral, I imagine, and dedicate some memorial after him, in a similar manner that he did the dead Robins. The rest of the batfamily would show their respects, even Cassandra and Damian. The former hated his murderous tendencies and the latter Croc almost snapped in half once.

Harley would cry immediately upon finding out, and would by comforted by Ivy, who’s grieving was much more internal. Pam would quickly turn to rage, and try to avenge or honor his death in some way, but after that their crimes out die out for around a week.

Selina and Waylon were never the closest, but she without a doubt considered him a friend. She would grieve alongside the rest of the batfamily.

Bane would feel some sense of victory at first, seeing this as him finally winning their war of strength. But he would quickly feel empty, no longer having someone to work to beat besides Batman himself.

The more respectful rouges would pause whatever their current scheme was if they found out. The Joker would probably make a scheme dedicated to mocking Waylon’s death.

#my asks #killer croc #waylon jones #roy harper #jason todd #june moone #bruce wayne #harley quinn #poison ivy #pamela isley #selina kyle #bane

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astranne · 2 years ago

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Good luck biting through steel greaves you gremlin

In which Baby Damian Wayne, more like Baby Damian al Ghul, since he lost his memories as Wayne and Robin in his transformation, strands in the Medieval Ages.

Where he tries to bite through steel greaves.

find more made up fanfic titles!

#dc #damian wayne #robin #dc damian wayne #damian al ghul #he really said i'm a demon spawn #made up fic title ask game #✨ star dust

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alittlefoxedup · 5 years ago

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An Unexpected Reunion

I’m gonna try out this Omega Jason Todd Week challenge thing with an idea that’s been in my head for awhile.

Day 1: Jason presents post-Lazarus

Roy Harper is rescued by someone who claims they’ve met, but he can’t figure out how he’s supposed to know the omega.

The whole rescue had been a bit of a blur for Roy. Bread and water for a month, maybe more, would do that. He could really go for a burger. The idea of food was the only thing keeping his feet moving. That and his mysterious rescuer. Grateful as he was, Roy wanted to know who and why. If anyone was going to rescue him, he thought it would have been Oliver or the Titans. Neither came.

He was pretty sure he couldn’t blame being out of the hero loop on not knowing this guy. The guy had clearly been in the business for a long time, but Roy had never heard of him. People only heard about the ones that got caught or boasted. Roy didn’t think his rescuer fell into either category. He was pretty sure his rescuer could run laps around everyone he knew and they’d never know.

Finding out what this guy wanted with Roy was Roy’s new top priority after eating all of this guy’s food. He couldn’t see the smirk but could feel it. His rescuer wore a red hood and mask covering the bottom half of his face. It was hard to make out any features except for blue eyes and a streak of white in his black hair. The gray body armor disguised as leathers was an interesting choice. Roy liked the bronze gauntlets and greaves. The modern mixed with some traditional worked well on the guy.

“You won’t enjoy all that coming back up.” His rescuer took the rest of the food away.

Roy nodded, already full on a sandwich and half an apple. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had juice was, but he was starting to feel better. His stomach wasn’t going to be happy later but whatever. He switched to the glass of water he’d been given and tried for answers.

“So who are you?”

The guy shrugged. “Different people call me different names.”

“Uh huh, must be hard for name recognition when you don’t want anyone to know you exist.”

“My mother told me the same thing. I’ve been going by Red Hood for awhile.”

Roy frowned. There were a few times he’d helped Dick out and that name had popped up. He was pretty sure it was the name Joker went by before going, well, batshit. Only a large amount of guts or small amount of intelligence could be responsible.

“You wouldn’t be the first to question it.”

“I’m sure. Why’d you pick it?”

The guy shook his head. “Long story.”

“Mhmm, then why’d you save my sorry ass?”

“That’s not how I’d describe it, and you deserve better. I kinda know a thing or two about never measuring up in a mentor’s view.”

Roy tilted his head. “Is that so?”

“Uh, yeah.” Red Hood went to rub the back of his neck and knocked his hood off. With a better view, he looked familiar in a way Roy couldn’t place.

“So why’d you really save me?”

“I wasn’t planning to, but it seems everyone got caught in legal tape. I think the only reason they kept you there was to get something in exchange for ‘graciously’ letting you live. They weren’t moving fast enough in my opinion.”

“You think I’m gonna buy that? You’ve stayed off everyone’s radar just to get involved now?”

“Fine. You did something for me that was small for you but meant a lot to me. I’m paying you back.”

Roy didn’t buy it, but the last explanation sounded the closest to the truth. He was given the option to stay until he was back to full strength. The guy probably didn’t save him just to kill him so Roy stayed. The home cooked meals were heavenly after the crap he’d been eating for the past year. The house was on the beach and far away from the rest of the world.

The first week was tense. Roy was probably to blame. Hood took his mask off after a few days and called Roy by his real name which unsettled Roy for awhile. There were little things that rung bells that Roy couldn’t place. He watched Hood sometimes discreetly sometimes blatantly. The scent blockers coming off were as much as a shock as the omega scent that followed. Hood started to make more sense.

Roy slowly got back into training. Everything had taken a hit so he had to work back to where he’d been before. He tried pushing himself once then was knocked down by Hood. The scolding was from concern so Roy let Hood come up with his recovery routine as long as he got to watch Hood do his workout.

Sparring came two weeks in. Hood always won. Roy had used every trick he could think of to win and got nowhere. That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it. Hood’s quips were as quick as his attacks, and Roy could match him. The line between banter and flirting became blurred to the point Roy didn’t care. An omega that could beat him in a fight and took care of him was slowly becoming what he wanted. Roy just hoped it wasn’t all one sided.

It took a month and a half for them to have nightmares the same night. Late night tv kept the edge off. Roy threw one arm on the back of the couch. It landing behind where Hood was sitting meant nothing and everything. Roy wasn’t sure if it was just an inch between them or a canyon.

“What was it that I did that you felt like you owed me?” The question had been at the back of his mind for awhile. His nightmare and the silence pushed it forward.

Hood leaned into his arm some. “You gave me your number.”

“I think I would remember giving my number to someone as pretty as you.” Roy let his hand drop onto Hood’s shoulder and toy with the loose thread.

“I wasn’t an omega then, and I was fourteen.”

“How old are you now?”

“Roughly twenty one.”

“Roughly?” Roy frowned. Seven years ago he would have been running with the original Titans. He’d given his number to plenty of people.

“You said I could call you whenever I needed to rant about family and you’d tell me embarrassing stories until I felt better.”

Roy’s hand stopped moving. He remembered that conversation. There hadn’t been any calls because that kid died. Roy had visited his grave, but all the little things he noticed made sense if the guy he kinda had an arm around was Dick’s kid brother. He certainly wasn’t a kid anymore.

“Jason? How?”

The fear mixed into the omega’s scent pulled at Roy’s heart. He knew that kind of fear. Fear of a rejection that was sure to happen, that had maybe happened already. It was a fear Roy had become all too familiar with. He hated it, especially coming from the person who’d been looking out for him.

“It’s okay. I believe you. You don’t have to tell me specifics, but I want to know what happened if you can tell me.” Roy pulled Jason close and kept his arms around him.

“I don’t really know. I just woke up with all my injuries still there and six feet of dirt above me. Talia found me and took me in. Ra’s was interested then grew bored. She put me in the Lazarus Pit so he wouldn’t do something. Ra’s was pissed. I presented a couple hours later. Talia thinks that’s because the Pit fixed the malnutrition. I found out about what happened while I was gone.” Jason took a deep breath. “The Pit Madness latched onto that. I was sent to some different teachers. One of them got through to me so I was able to fight off the Pit. I went back to Talia and looked after Damian until he was sent to… Gotham.”

“I don’t know what you mean about the Pit Madness.”

“Means I was more than wrathful about not being avenged and a new kid in my suit. Ducra explained some stuff about not everyone being capable of taking a life. Some people can physically do it, but the mental side could shut them down or turn them into a monster. It made sense. He’s never been exactly mentally healthy.”

“You were missed. I saw it almost ruin Dick and heard about what it did to Bruce. Hell, we talked like three times, and I missed you. You were mourned and still are being grieved, Jay.” Roy pulled Jason into his neck and ran a hand through his hair. He’d wanted to repay him but not like this.

“I tried to go back, but they wouldn’t listen. One whiff of my scent and they started screaming at me how it was a horrible joke and I was an awful person for even thinking of doing that. They wouldn’t listen. They ordered me to leave and never come back. I can’t even see Damian now.”

Roy held onto him tightly and bit back his growl. An alpha’s order was near impossible for their pup to ignore. Grief made people do stupid things, but the logic and evidence run Bats shouldn’t have been that stupid.

“I can kidnap Dick and force him to listen to you.”

Jason shook his head and buried deep into Roy’s neck. The quiet sobs and tears hurt worse than any knife or bullet. Roy didn’t know how to fix that so he held him together while Jason fell apart.

The tv droned on about nothing.

#ojtw2020 #jayroy #jason todd #roy harper #omega!jason todd #alpha!roy harper #fic: an unexpected reunion

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thewriterwithnoplan · 6 years ago

Text

Night (Part 4)

Summary: Y/N isn’t exactly a villain they just call her a ‘bad guy’. At least it’s for the right reason, children. Y/N looks after children, it’s her way of washing the slate clean. And the slate needs a good scrubbing if Y/N is ever to wash all that blood off. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader Word Count: 992 Warnings: None.

Wayne manor was an odd place. That much anyone could tell, whether you were the owner, one of his countless adopted children or the blood son. What Jason just could not understand was how it seemed impossibly more awkward in there. He'd opted for staying in one of his safe houses, only entering the tension filled castle of a house for patrol. And he wished he'd stayed home.

It was dead silent. Even with the entire male half of the bat family assembled along with Damian's heard of animals. Alfred cleared his throat opened his mouth, searched for something to say, and shut it. Bruce glanced over his shoulder at the group of boys, standing stiff as statues. He grunted and returned to the computer, listing off assignments.

"Dick you should probably take the plane and watch Bludhaven." Dick gave a flourishing bow with a cocky grin. "Tim, you have a report to finish for Wayne Enterprises." The boy's shoulders slumped as he huffed but nodded. "Damian, you and I will be patrolling near Arkham. Jason, can I trust you to take the southern half of the city?"

Jason rolled his eyes, what sort of question was that? He was trust worthy. Had done everything they'd asked of him, including following the stupid No Killing rule. There wasn't much he could do though so he nodded.

"Yeah I've got the sou-" Yelling cut him off. The five of them whipped around, Bruce quickly ushering Alfred back upstairs. The noise got closer, the faint pattering of feet following. Many, many feet. But it wasn't a group that rounded the corner, no first a disgruntled woman scrambled round the corner. She tore a small explosive from it's place on the wall and hurled it down the tunnel. Bang! The tunnel from the cave collapsed partially.

"The hell?" Tim hissed, whirling upon the girl who clutched a katana in her hand. A bloody katana. She heaved a breath, eyeing them each in turn. Jason stared at her, Night.

"That won't hold them long," The girl shoved her sword rather ungracefully into it's sheath. "So? Who has a plan?"

"Okay, yeah." Dick nodded sarcastically. "How about you tell us who you are first?"

Jason gave her a grin that slowly fell. "What's wrong?"

Y/N gave him a solemn look and nodded to the small cave in, "The league of assassins is after me. I didn't have anywhere else to go, I'm sorry I had to bring this upon you Jay."

"No, you did the right thing. Are the kids alright?" He stalked to her side, pulling her into a hug. Night nodded against his chest, wrapping her arms around him carefully.

"Kids?" Bruce blinked at his second eldest ward. Once. Twice. A third time before he puffed out a breath and hissed, "You didn't think to tell us you had a girlfriend and kids? Plural. K-I-D-S."

Night all but threw Jason off of her giving the bat a horrified look as she held up her left hand, where a gold ring glimmered. The first and third robin seemed frozen in shock as they stared at it, the delicate engraving over the surface and the glittering red diamond clasped between the folds of gold. Their eyes cast between Night and Jason a few times before she gave an indignant squark.

"He's basically my son!" They stared at her confused for a few seconds before she sighed, sending Jason a pleading look.

"In my defence," Jason grumbled. "I just found out about the ring too-" She glared at him, making him sigh. "Fine, meet Night. My mother figure, she kind of adopted me and half of Gotham."

"Damn strait boy-o and where would you be without me?" She slung an arm over his shoulder, albeit not as care free as the gesture was supposed to be thanks to his height. "This little beauty-" A longing glance at the ring as she said softly, "Is a different story. Right now, my priorities lie with the assassins trying to break down that."

She pointed to the cave in, which the League members had indeed shifted out the way. Though the'd bottlenecked themselves, so hey were forced to enter one at a time. An unspoken command from the bat had his robins on instant alert. Red Robin and Nightwing began fighting the first few, the next lot lunged at Batman and the newest Robin leaving only Y/N and Jason to fend off the other ten who entered.

It was a gruelling battle, swords and daggers and guns, knives and escrima sticks and bo staffs. It was all a furious whirling around them as they lunged and parried and shot. One by one the enemies slumped on the ground, cuts began appearing on each of the batboys and Night herself. Their numbers dwindled until the others watched Red Hood and Night take out the last two assassins.

"Manoeuvre thirteen!" Y/N shouted, running at Jason. The second boy wonder crouched, allowing her to roll over his back and locking their arms in place. Jason spun quickly as Y/N pushed her legs out, kicking the enemies in the face. They lifted their swords, only to find her shins protected by greaves. Blow for blow, they spun hitting the enemies until they crumpled.

"I always loved that one," Jason grinned. "Gives fighting a little flare."

Y/N flopped, rather ungracefully from his back, clutching her head. "Well I hate that move, it makes me dizzy. You'll do well to remember that its a last resort."

Jason huffed a laugh as he peeled the girl from the concrete. She gave him playful glare, shoving him to stumble up herself. They looked up at the rest of the bat clan who were frozen once more. Staring right at them in disbelief. Night chuckled, picking up her katana from where she'd been disarmed and sheathing it again.

"I think we should talk." Bruce rumbled.

#League of Assassins #Damian Wayne #damian x reader #Jason Todd #jason #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #dc #nightwing #robin #red hod #Red Robin

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