#gordon: what are you eating? DROP IT. SPIT IT OUT

[pistachi0art]

should he eat it?

[xoxo-teddybear]

She’s Baby - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, fluff, crack

Summary: On a mission, Y/N gets hit with a quirk. Basically, she returns back to being a baby. And obviously, her boyfriend is left to take care of her.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: Y/N has the Cheshire quirk I mentioned in another post. The main thing you’ll need to know is that she can teleport and she can shape shift into any feline creature.

“......What am I looking at right now?”

Bakugou stared down at the small child being held by Kirishima. She oddly resembled his own girlfriend, with the same E/C eyes and H/C hair. Kirishima stood nervously as he let out a chuckle while sweat dripped down his face.

“Uhh..this is your girlfriend Bakugou. Some things happened on the job with Fat Gum and now Y/N’s a baby,” Kirishima explained. It took a second to process but once Bakugou finally got it, he started cackling. He bursted out laughing with tears streaming down his face. He went to pull out his phone and took a picture of your baby form, which was currently chewing on her foot through her pink onesie.

“Hehe, cute.” He whispered to himself as he looked at the photo.

“Ehem, anyways. Considering you’re in a relationship with Y/N, we decided to have you be her caretaker until she returns back to normal, which should be in just a few hours.” At his teacher’s words, Bakugou’s eyes popped.

“What?! Do I look like some damn babysitter to you?!” The blonde screamed.

“No, you look like her boyfriend. So man up and deal with her!” Kirishima said as he shoved you into your boyfriend’s arms and shut his dorm room door. Bakugou grunted and sighed before he looked down at baby you in his arms, he softly smiled down at your cute form that was cooing at him and reaching for his face.

“If our future kids look anything like you, they’re gonna be cute as fuck.” He said as he tickled your tummy.

—

After a few hours of having baby Y/N in his dorm room, Bakugou thought it’d be a good idea to get you both some food. A healthy meal made by the Japanese Gordon Ramsey himself should suffice.

Bakugou walked out of his room with you, not in his arms, but you standing on his shoulder, tugging on his blonde locks. Your baby form apparently loved high perches, which made sense due to your quirk being cat-related. As the two of you made it to the common rooms, the students of class 1-A took notice of the oh-so casual Bakugou that held a baby-you atop of his head.

“Uhh, Bakugou? You have a baby on your head.” Kaminari mentioned from the couch.

“I’m aware, Dunce Face.” Bakugou said as he entered the kitchen. “It’s just Y/N. She got hit with a quirk and now she’s like this.”

“Ohh, she’s so cute!” Mina said as she walked up to you two and took you away from Bakugou.

“Hey! Give her back!” Bakugou said as he reached for you. Mina moved back to dodge his attempt and succeeded.

“No! I wanna hold her! You’ve been with her all day!” Mina argued.

“Because Mr. Aizawa told me I had to take care of her!” Bakugou replied.

“Well if you don’t want to then I’ll happily do it!” Mina said.

“No! She’s my girlfriend so give her back!” Bakugou said, finally successfully getting a hold on you.

“She’s my best friend so let me have her!” Mina said as she jumped on Bakugou. Unfortunately, they both fell to the floor and landed next to each other on their backs. As he fell, you flew out of Bakugou’s grip and everybody looked to your falling baby form and gasped. “Oh no!”

Before you landed, your body teleported next to Bakugou. Your boyfriend looked at you in shock before grabbing onto you. “Shit! You scared me, Y/N.”

“Woah! She can still use her quirk?” Sero said as he walked to you three.

“I guess,” Bakugou replied.

“You guess?!” Mina said. “So she could’ve fallen and you weren’t gonna do a thing about it?!”

“It all happened so fast, okay?! And besides, I didn’t see your dumbass doing anything!” He argued as he held you against his chest.

“Because I was on the floor!” Mina argued.

“And that was your fucking fault!” The blonde said before he got up. He perched you on his hip as he grabbed ingredients to make a simple dish. He began cooking while still holding onto you and while some students offered to hold you so that he could focus on the meal, he only growled at everyone’s attempt to take you away from him. He refused to let anyone but him hold you after that almost falling fiasco.

—

Finally, it was time to feed you! Unfortunately everything Bakugou made wasn’t to your liking. Udon? No. Tamago Sushi? No. Curry? No. Oyakodon? Nope! Eventually he gave up and brought you to the supermarket so you could pick out some baby food. While you looked for food, your boyfriend couldn’t help but notice the stares he was getting.

‘These damn idiots must think I’m her daddy or something....well in a way I guess they’re right,’ the hormonal teen joked to himself ‘but I’m not no damn teen father!’ Bakugou went back to searching for something for you to eat and gagged as he looked at all the jars of mush.

‘Peas and Carrots. Spinach. Chicken and Rice. Gross. Who would feed a baby this shit?’ He thought. He held you in his arms as he watched you reach for a red-ish, pink paste in a jar. You smiled as you held it up to him while he read the label. “Dragonfruit and Chia Seeds..doesn’t sound half bad. Alright brat, let’s go,”

—

Back at the dorms, Bakugou set you in the common room couch. He would’ve put you in the kitchen, but there were no booster seats and that put you at a safety risk. The couch was the next best thing. Low to the ground, soft cushions, and you would have a carpeted fall if an instance were to happen.

While you got comfy on the couch, Bakugou took a seat infront of you on the coffee table. He pulled out the small jar of food along with a baby spoon and that’s when his group of friends walked in.

“Hey man! Whatchu’ doing with lil Y/N?” Kirishima asked as he hunched over the couch to allow you to play with his hands.

“Just feeding the brat,” Bakugou said as he opened the jar. “C’mon Teddy Bear, you gotta eat.”

Kaminari snickered at the pet name. “You’re still calling her ‘Teddy Bear?’”

“Yeah? She’s still my girlfriend dunce face!” The ash blonde said waving the spoon around. “She’s just, in a different body.”

“Yeah, a baby body,” Mina teased with a laugh. The Bakusquad (minus Bakugou) all laughed with her.

“Well at least I’m not calling her ‘babe’ or anything like that!” He reacted fiercely. “Whatever, Y/N, just eat the food.”

You looked at the spoonful of mush that your boyfriend was offering you and after staring at it for a hot minute, you smacked it out of your face. The scoop of food landed against the wall making a splat sound. The group of teens all looked at you in shock as you just laughed and clapped your hands together in excitement.

Bakugou was getting irked as he knew what was coming. But there’s no way, right? This kind of stuff only happened in TV. Right?

—

He was wrong. The jar was empty, but Y/N wasn’t full of any food. She had flung spoonfuls of dragonfruit on the walls, the ceiling, the floors, and the Bakusquad. You were the only thing in the room that was clean. The group of friends all stood covered in pinkish blotches as they circled you. They now all had a spoon that held the last bits of food. They were going to feed you. No matter what it took.

“Go!” Sero screamed and the friends all jumped into action. Kirishima dove in first but you teleported out of the way. He spilled his spoon as he hit the ground. When you reappeared, you looked to your left and saw Kaminari standing there. He smirked down at you with a crazed grin and when he tried to grab you, you transformed into a little kitten and knocked the spoon out of his hand, dropping its contents. You transformed back into your baby state and there, you met Sero. Not because he was standing there, but because the mad man was swinging with his tape trying to get to you. You once again teleported and he crashed into the wall, obviously getting the small amount of food on there as well. You stood on the kitchen island and Mina popped up behind you and got a hold on you. She successfully got the food into your mouth and smiled at the sight. She held you up in victory and the squad all cheered. Unfortunately, as Mina brought you closer to her face level, she looked at you and you spit the food right back into her face.

“Ah!” She screamed at the feeling of having baby mush in her eyes and dropped you. You teleported again and stood on the coffee table. There, Bakugou gently picked you up in his arms and cradled you. You fussed but he held the spoon in front of you and begged you to eat.

“Please Y/N. Just eat the damn mush.” He softly spoke. You looked up to your boyfriend who stared down at you with pleading eyes and you kindly took the spoon into your mouth, swallowing the food. The squad cheered again while Bakugou contently sighed in relief. He pecked your forehead before putting the spoon in the sink. “Hey Pinkie, mind giving Y/N a bath while I clean the place up?”

“Why me?” Mina asked, wiping her face.

“Because you’re both girls?” Bakugou said, looking at her as if she was dumb.

“So? You’re her boyfriend. Are we gonna act like you haven’t seen Y/N naked yet?” Mina said, smirking at the blushing blonde with a hand on her hip.

“S-Shut up! And this is different! I’m not looking at her bare baby body!” Bakugou complained while looking flustered with red cheeks.

“Fine, fine,” Mina said as she walked to Bakugou, taking you from him. You whined at the loss of touch from Bakugou and reached out for him with sad eyes and grabby hands. He smiled down at you and played with your baby hands.

“Relax you damn brat,” he said with a soft smile, “it’s just for a little bit. Okay?” He asked and you cooed at him, almost as if you were telling him you understood. He kissed your forehead before going off to clean the room while Mina walked away with you to give you a bath.

—

Mina returned with a clean baby in new clothes that she had Momo made. She gave you back to Katsuki who was waiting for you on the now clean couch. Once you were in Katsuki’s hold, you giggled and reached for his face. He smiled and leaned forward to allow you to squish his cheeks, just like how you would if you weren’t a baby.

“Yup, you’re definitely Y/N.” He chuckled before giving you another forehead kiss. The Bakusquad all sat with him again and watched their friend interact with the mini you. Kaminari was sitting next to Bakugou and kept trying to play with you, and you definitely enjoyed the electric blonde’s entertainment.

“Hewo there my baby waby~” Denki cooed in baby talk as he tickled your chin. “Our lil coco-moco-chucka-wucka-OW!” You bit his finger. The squad all laughed at the sight and even the bitten blonde chuckled before petting your baby head...in hesitation of course. Bakugou laughed before bouncing you in his arms to get more comfortable. He leaned back on the couch and you crawled up to his upper chest and got comfy. He held a hand below you to make sure you didn’t fall as he smiled in content. It was an adorable sight, truly.

“You know man, you’d make a pretty good dad.” His best friend said. Bakugou looked towards Kirishima with a weird face.

“Ugh, Shitty Hair, this is my girlfriend, not my daughter.” He said, rubbing your tiny back.

“Yeah we know, but the way you interact with her baby form, you’d make a great father!” Mina said. “And plus, we all see how Y/N is around children. Kids love her. You guys would be really good parents.”

The thought of you and him being parents put a blush on his face. You, him, a mini Y/N and a mini Katsuki. A dog with a big yard in the back of a big house once you guys are big shot pros. Sounds like a dream to Katsuki. He snapped out of his daydream once his friends all awed at him for blushing and smiling as it was obvious to what he was thinking.

“Shut up you idiots! We’re going to bed!” The ash blonde said before getting up and carrying you back to his room. He placed you down on the bed before turning around to get some sleeping clothes for himself. As his back was turned, a white glow went on behind him and when he turned back around, he saw you in your normal form, naked under his blankets.

“Uh, Suki? You mind?” You asked with a little giggle. He smiled at you before handing you a big tee and a pair of his compression shorts. You put that on and once again got comfy under the sheets. Bakugou got dressed for bed and joined you by jumping into the sheets.

He covered you in kisses and you giggled at his touch. “I missed you baby.”

Man did it feel good for Katsuki to call you that again and not have it be weird. “I wish I could say the same but it feels like I just saw you before I left for the job.”

“Well, you were with me the whole day. I guess that quirk just puts your brain on pause for a bit while you’re in baby form so it makes sense that the last thing you remember is the battle.” He said.

“I still can’t believe I was a baby. Bleh. Tell me about it!” You giggled. He laughed with you in his arms.

“Uh, I don’t fucking know. You were a cute kid.” He mentioned.

“Were? Baby, I’m still cute.” You said with sass and flipped your hair, he laughed at you again and kissed your cheek in agreement.

“Yeah, you are. But baby-you was really adorable. You almost fell but surprisingly your quirk still worked and you knew how to control it so you were safe.” He told you, but you pushed his chest away to look at his face.

“You almost dropped me?! Katsuki!” You yelled at your boyfriend.

“I know! I know! But, you didn’t fall!” He replied. You only huffed and sighed before having him continue,

“Anyways. Then I had to feed you but your picky ass wouldn’t take anything I made. Which is weird because you love my cooking. Mini you just wanted to be a pain in the ass.” He said ruffling your hair. “So I took you to the store and everyone there thought I was some teen fucking dad or some shit!”

“Wow Katsuki~ I didn’t know you had kids. Who’s the mom?” You teased.

“Shut up, dumbass.” He said with an eye roll, “besides, if I were to have a kid with anyone, it has to be you. I’m not putting a kid in anybody else. I refuse.”

That made you giggle and you felt the heat rush to your face. “Same here Katsuki. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

A comforting silence came over the two of you as you remained cuddled in his arms. A few minutes of silence and Katsuki finally asked his burning question. “Um...how would you feel..about growing up with me? And getting married. And-..I don’t know, kids?”

His breath got stuck in his throat as he waited for your answer. You looked up at him with a sweet face before giving him a loving smile and peck on the cheek. “I only want my future to be with you, Katsuki.”

He smiled again and kissed your lips. “Same here, Teddy Bear.”

A/N: Horrible ending but..whateva i guess :/

Taglist:  @sxcker4you @aomi04

[butwhyduh]

Dead Clown 🤡

Jason todd x reader

Warning: smut, murder but it’s okay.

Jason pulled his helmet off and ignored the rain that poured down his face. He had to see this without a filter. He even considered taking off the domino mask but he was out in the open. The pouring freezing rain had him shivering but Jason was unaware. He literally couldn’t believe the sight before him.

The joker was laying in his back, the pasty skin on his forehead was marred by 2 small holes. The back of his stupid green hair looked almost black when mixed with blood. Blood and water mixed in a pink puddle around his head. Jason forced himself to check for a pulse before hitting his comms.

“Bats, you need to get down here,” he said in a shocked voice. “The joker is dead.”

“..... are you okay,” Bruce said in a measured voice.

“I’m fine. He was dead when I got here,” Jason added knowing he was number one suspect.

“On the way.”

Batman and Red Robin showed up shortly with Robin not far behind. It didn’t take long for the detectives to believe Jason’s innocence. The evidence didn’t match him.

Jason sat on a piece of concrete near the scene as they worked. He had hoped to see this for years now. But it wasn’t the same. Maybe it was because Jason didn’t get his revenge or because it looked too neat. Two quick shots to the brain. Probably didn’t even see it coming before he was lights out.

Bruce walked over to him as the other two took photos and bagged evidence. A little blood here. Some fabric fibers there. No fingerprints because of the heavy rain but a bullet casing.

“Did you see who shot him?”

“No B. I literally got here and he was already out. He was supposed to have a drug drop but I guess that didn’t happen,” Jason said with a shrug.

“You were going to fight him alone,”Bruce said with a raised brow.

“No. Just reconnaissance. I would have called it in,” Jason defended himself. Bruce gave him a side look before moving on to the case.

“Commissioner Gordon is on the way,” Tim said. He held bags of evidence carefully in his lanky fingers. “We’re finish collecting-“

“Can we go home, father? It’s freezing cold,” Damian interrupted. Bruce sighed before looking at him.

“Red Robin was talking but yes, you both should back to the cave to process everything. Red Hood, you too. The commissioner knows you have a history with the joker so it’s best you leave too. I’ll take care of this,” Bruce said carefully. Any wrong word might set Jason off with his trauma over the death of his murderer.

“Uh yeah, sure man,” Jason said clearly distracted. He would usually argue with everything Bruce said and this made Bruce even more worried for the young man. He sent a quick message to Dick before the commission met got there.

——————————

“We’re running the tests right now and there really isn’t much else to do. Robin already went to bed. Go home Hood and get some sleep,” Tim said by the computers. Jason hadn’t bothered to get out of his suit or shower.

“How long? How long until you get results?”

“Oh, uhhh maybe 12 hours? A while. Sorry DNA testing isn’t like in the movies. The meta or clone tests are even longer. It probably won’t be until tomorrow night that we know anything,” Tim said turning in his chair. “Get some sleep.”

Jason considered giving him a nasty comment but held it. He certainly felt dead on his feet and had a nice warm woman waiting at home for him.

“Call when you know anything,” he said with a growl.

“Yeesh, yeah. I will,” Tim said backing away. “Say it. Don’t spray it,” he muttered as Jason walked away.

———————————

Jason trudged into the apartment leaving wet clothing in his wake until he stumbled to bed in nothing but his boxer briefs. You were going to be mad at him for the mess in the morning but that could wait. He looked at you asleep on the bed. You looked so sweet and innocent. Like an angel compared to his dirty hands that practically dripped blood every night.

He slid under the blanket and pressed close to your warm form. You gasped awake before relaxing when you realized it was just Jason. Did you not realize he could kill you 84 different ways in your sleep? It didn’t really matter as you snuggled your head into the crook of his neck and slid your legs to entangle with his. Jason’s arms automatically wrapped around you and rubbed your back until your breathing was even in sleep. He stared at the ceiling until the hint of dusk could be seen outside.

Jason woke with a gasp followed by a moan as he felt perfect wet heat encompass his dick. He looked down to see the blankets move rhythmically as you slid your mouth along his dick. He blinked himself more awake to truly enjoy it.

It wasn’t the first time you had woken him as such but it was certainly a rare occurrence. Reserved for birthdays and Christmas, he couldn’t imagine what he did to deserve such a wonderful wake up.

“Fuck! Princess,” he groaned as you swirled before taking him deep. You hummed questionably.

“What did I, mmmm, do to deserve such a fuck! Perfect mouth. Perfect wake up,” he said pushing covers down to show you between his legs. You looked up at him with big innocent eyes as you licked long hot strips up his cock. You took him deep in your mouth before sliding off with a pop.

“I can’t spoil you?” You purred and he twitched. How did he get so lucky? “Do you want to finish in my mouth or can I ride you first?” You asked and he god honest choked on his spit.

“Baby, *cough* whatever you want, what. Ever. you want,” he said and you grinned before climbing up his body to straddle him. His hands ran along the side of your body before gripping your hips. You sunk down on him with a little mewl.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so wet. Do you like... do you like sucking my cock?” He asked breathlessly.

“Of course, Jaybird. Sometimes I touch myself when I blow you, like today,” you admitted with a sweet little giggle. He almost came right them. How could you say the dirtiest things while being the sweetest person he’d ever known?

Jason reached his thumb down to rub your clit as you moved. You whined before nodding at him. Your mouth fell open and your hips sped up. He knew that you weren’t going to last long. You really did get hot and bothered blowing him. You made little whined and whimpers before moaning his name loudly as you came. Your body clenching on him was enough and he thrust up into you as he came as well. You bent down and kissed him deeply. Jason was panting by the time you pulled back.

“Loved that for sure, but what the hell was that, Princess,” Jason asked breathlessly as you climbed off and threw on some clothing. You chuckled a little before tossing him his boxers.

“Just wanted to wake you up this morning. Do you want some pancakes, Jay,” you asked. He sat up and pulled them on.

“You certainly did. And I never say no to food. Especially my favorite food,” Jason said with a grin. “Is it secretly my birthday? Am I dying and you’re prepping me beforehand?”

You laughed. “You already did that, baby.”

Jason gasped a little before laughing.

“I just wanted to treat you like you deserve. Pick a movie. There’s a new slasher out that you can tear apart,” you said walking in the kitchen and grinned at Jason’s heart eye look he gave you.

He looked through the movies without paying them much mind. He’d seen the joker dead the day before and now his girlfriend was spoiling him. He didn’t know what to think about. He’d think about the joker finally being dead. He couldn’t hurt Jason or those near him any more. You’d been kidnapped 6 months earlier and it had almost ripped Jason apart when he found you bloody and beaten. Luckily alive though.

Then he thought about how sweet you were. A perfect angel who had nothing to do with that life. You couldn’t kill someone if you tried. He just wanted to keep you in an innocent bubble, especially after being kidnapped.

“Jay? Jason?” You said near him and he jumped. He had been so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you coming over to him with a plate of food. Heart shaped pancakes covered in whipped cream stared up at him and Jason had a little grin on his face.

“Sorry, thanks. This looks good,” he said and you grinned before sitting with your own. Jason turned on a movie and sat next to you to eat.

Jason’s phone rang.

He gave you an apologetic look before answering.

“Yeah,” he answered before quickly standing up to talk in another room. Definitely bat business, it sounded like. He came back in a few minutes putting on his suit. He bent and shoved most of a pancake in his mouth. Jason pulled you to your feet and swirled you around before holding you by the waist. You giggled.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve got to work. But when I get back, I’m making up for this morning, okay? Breakfast was amazing,” he said before pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You nodded before he left.

——————————

Jason arrived at the cave and realized something was instantly wrong. Tim, Dick, Damian, Bruce, and even Alfred were waiting for him around the computers. He slowly walked up. They didn’t think he did it, did they? Jason looked around in case of a fight.

“I have some bad news,” Dick said. Jason just stared at him. Dick sighed. “We know who killed the joker. You won’t like it. You- you might want to sit down.”

Jason frowned at his tone. It was the tone you used when telling a kid their parents died. He looked at the computer to see surveillance footage of the roof where he found the joker. He clenched his fist as the mad man walked in the screen.

“You know, this is the worst meeting place in the world,” joker said with a laugh. Jason’s eyebrows rose. He hasn’t expected audio. “So what do you have that I might want on the birds?”

A female voice off camera could be heard saying, “peace of mind.”

“Doubt you could give me that Princess,” he said in a mocking tone. His posture was casual even though the lower half of a woman’s body had walked into the screen and she held a gun in hand pointed at him. She froze at his words.

Jason couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

“Yeah, I know,” joker said. “I forget faces. Too many changing and quite a few people are a little two faced,” he said with a laugh. “But I never forget a voice. You sounded so much more sweet when you were crying tied to a chair. And the way you sobbed when I brought out the crowbar.... music to my ears. I bet it just reminded you of a certain bird that just didn’t quite make it the first time.”

“Shut up. I- I don’t care,” she said. Jason’s heart was in his throat. He knew exactly who that was before Tim’s DNA tests were complete. She moved around a little nervously.

“Honey, Princess,” he said drawn out in a mock of Jason’s voice. “Unless you plan on using that gun, put it down and we can play a game. You like games? You play one with the red bat all the time. Does he know? Does he know that you’ve been hunting me for.... geez, since you were kidnapped I’d bet.”

“Now drop that gun and I show you what pain really feels like,” he growled and she shot him in the forehead before he moved. He made a disconnected sound before falling to his knee, perfect height to be seen in the camera. She shot him again between the eyes and he fell back silently. His body splashed on the rainy roof before blood began to pool behind his head. The woman looked for a second, her body language painfully stiff, before running out the way she came.

The cave was silent as Jason realized what he just saw. He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. Has she- did she-??

“I assume the DNA matches?” He asked and Tim nodded before sliding him a paper copy. 98% match. Only chance it wasn’t you was an evil twin or clone but no, he noticed the clothing and mannerisms. It was you.

“Are you going to bring her in?” Bruce asked quietly and Jason gaped.

“I sure as shit ain’t. She killed the man who kidnapped her and abused her. That sounds like self defense to me,” he defended. Dick looked at him in pity and Jason quickly looked away.

“It was premeditated, Jason,” Bruce reminded him.

“I know. I’ll take care of it. She’s not going to prison. I’ll talk to her,” he said. Bruce gave him a hard look. “You come near her- I swear to god, Bruce. I’ll shoot you myself.”

Jason got up to leave. Dick moved out of his way. He wasn’t getting in this.

“Jason,” Bruce said but Jason was already gone.

——————————

Jason was a pretty smart guy but he was completely shocked at this moment. What possessed you to kill the joker? To seek him out? A man that tried to kill you and you were willing to meet him alone? Not even Jason wanted to do that. And that morning you were treating Jason special. He thought for a second that you killed the joker for him. It chilled him to the bone but he put that thought out of his head. No, you had your own reasons to do it.

Jason walked in the apartment cautiously. Who knows how you would be acting, the perfect girlfriend or finally breaking down when you realized you killed a man. He found you in the bedroom asleep. You didn’t look like you had just killed someone and for a second Jason had doubt but the video and DNA didn’t lie.

He crawled in bed with you. You pulled him close and laid your head on his chest and Jason’s heart hurt. You looked fine but killing people left scars and your first time killing someone was not something you forget.

You woke with a gasp and cry hours later. You trembled and grasped at Jason tightly. He woke up confused before pulling you closer.

“Hey, Princess, I’m right here. You’re okay,” he said rubbing your back and holding you close. “What’s going on?”

“I see him. When I sleep. Every time,” you breathed almost in tears. Jason kissed your cheek and he felt wetness on your skin. You had been crying. He didn’t want to ask but now was as good a time as any.

“Princess, what did you do last night?” Jason asked so quietly. You looked up at him quickly and it confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Nothing. I was here. All night. Wh-why?” You asked, lying terribly. Jason sighed. He closed his eyes before willing himself to speak.

“You know I’m a detective. I can tell that you’re lying,” Jason started gently.

“What does that mean,” you said a little too quickly. Your breathing started to speed up again and Jason hated the look of fear on your face.

“I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in. Just tell me what happened,” he said softly, watching you intently. You wanted to shrink away a little.

“I can’t,” you whispered. Your eyes started to water and you blinked them away.

“Did you do it? Did you kill him? I can help you,” Jason said and you froze. “Talk to me.”

“I-I did,” you said looking at him in terror. Your eyes were red rimmed. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you tight to his body. You broke down in little sobs and clung to him. “I’m so sorry that you thought you had to. I should have. I’m sorry.” He wrapped you up and made little shhh noises and you cried until you fell back asleep.

You woke up later with a pounding headache wrapped up tightly against Jason. He was on his phone but sat it down when he saw you were up.

“Hey,You don’t have to worry about it. I’ve taken care of everything,” he said ever so gently. You nodded.

“What does that mean?” You asked slowly.

“Red Hood took the wrap on it. No great loss with one less psycho in Gotham. Harley Quinn had an impromptu parade with hyenas and jugglers and everything. Nightwing made an appearance. Dick said Barbie slept through the night for the first time in months and she said she’d help you with anything you need,” Jason said trying to be positive. You gave him a dry smile.

“That’s nice. What about- what about Batman?” You asked.

“He’s Batman. But he’ll get over it. And the next time you kill a murderous clown, let me help. He could have killed you. And if anyone knows how to hide a body, it’s me,” Jason said giving you a squeezing hug. You smiled despite yourself.

“I’ll remember that. I’m a little sad I missed the hyena parade,” you admitted.

“Oh she’s having a parade every day this week. An anonymous donor gave her a ton of fireworks. Fairly certain it was Tim,” Jason said.

[parkers-gal]

why T.H.

wc: 6k (angst)

jerk!tom makes an appearance

You were angry, that was for sure. Tom knew why, it was his fault after all, but he'd never admit it. He would never 'man up' to you and just apologize like he should. At least, not when he should, but he would later, when the damage was already done and set in.

Truth be told, you were furious. How could he do that when he promised not to? You were more hurt than angry, if you were being honest. You didn't want to be the 'mother' but quite frankly, you were disappointed too.

It was your dream to own a bakery, but a bakery in London was something to get your hopes up. Dreaming big never ended well for you in the past, but after years of working your ass off, you had managed to achieve something you had wanted since you were young.

Your bakery, Flour Before Frosting, also happened to be where you met Tom, your boyfriend of almost 18 months. He had walked in one day, charming with a dashing smile, and asked for "your best made velvets, frosted with your number." You remember that day vividly, for it was one of the many times Tom would drop by before eventually taking you out and officially making you his girlfriend. Eight months and 17 days later, you moved out of your crappy flat and into his house (though it really just made things easier because you were already over every night).

You were in your shared bedroom, writing down new plans for how to decorate your bakery for the holidays.

"Hey, babe!" Tom called.

"In here, Tom," you yelled back.

"Oh- hey, luv. Got an old friend visiting next week, so I won't be by for our Wednesday lunch plans," he informed you.

"Oh, okay. Do you want some cupcakes and tea? Gonna have a new batch on Tuesday, fresh with new tea that Jackson just got. I think he made it- anyways, he gave me a sample a few weeks and I absolutely loved it. I think you'll like it too, it's just right for you." You rambled, and Tom laughed and shook his head at you.

"Yeah, darling. I'd love some cupcakes for my guest, gonna have to show off your amazing skills, aren't I?"

You blushed, waving your hand in the air as a hint for him to leave so he would stop flustering you. He ran over to kiss your cheek, leaving a Hershey kiss on your desk before yelling out that he'd be at the gym with Harrison for the next two hours.

Wednesday had come by, and you were on a lunch break, leaving Jackson in charge before heading to your favorite café for coffee and some light reading, and maybe even more planning. Heading in, you ordered and sat down in a booth. The door chime rung, making you look up from your papers and notebooks you had spread out to start your organizing. Tom, and what must've been his friend, walked in. You smiled as they went to the side of the restaurant with the small library of old, vintage books. They were facing away from you, sitting side by side in the angled lounge chairs. You were about to go over to and say 'hi' but your waitress came by with your coffee, so you stayed seated and went back to your work.

You saw Tom with the Tupperware box you gave him, enclosed with the small lunch note you always wrote him. He opened the box, giving a cupcake to the man talking to him (you were right in earshot), before reaching in for his, and the note. Before he got the chance to even look at it, his friend spoke up, frosting on his upper lip.

"You said these were made by a friend? This is fucking disgusting. Is it chocolate or..? Damn, ew, is this frosting healthy?" he laughed.

Tom nodded along, "I, uh, honestly couldn't uhm.." he trailed off, his friend looking at him with a confused expression, expectantly thinking for Tom to agree with him. "Yeah, man, I don't really fucking know."

His friend took another small nibble before playfully gagging, and looking at Tom while he bit into it for the first time. Tom reacted in the same way, 'gagging', to agree with his friend, before putting it on the table with his friend's cupcake.

"Who made that? Certainly wasn't Gordon Ramsey."

At this, Tom laughed. Whether he thought it was funny, or if he was just trying to ease the tension, you couldn't tell. You were too busy blinking tears away.

"You said you had tea?" he questioned Tom. Tom nodded. "Good, need something to wash away that disgusting thing people call a cupcake."

You cringed, turning your head to the side with squinted eyes because you truly couldn't sit there and listen to what someone thought was wrong with your life's work.

Tom didn't reply, just getting the tea in the thermoses in his bag, handing one to his friend while opening his. You were contemplating on if his lack of response was a good thing. On one hand, he wasn't completely encouraging the hate you were getting, but on the other hand, he didn't stick up for you either. Right now, that was all you could think about. But then, everything slipped your mind when both boys tried the tea you had specially made (early, for it wasn't to be sold in your shop for about another month) just for them.

Tom opened his thermos, smiling when he took a sniff at it, because you were right. It smelt like something he would love. His friend, however, would not agree. Taking one sip, he was just as rude about it as he was with the cupcake, going as far as spitting it back into the thermos.

He got up, taking both cupcakes with him, and dumped the thermos out in the trash can, the cupcakes following not long after. He sat down next to Tom, shaking his head with a coy grin before speaking.

"Next time, let's get Chinese or something," he laughed, Tom nodding along with him before slipping both thermoses back into his bag, dropping your note in the process. Before he got to pick it up, his friend crumpled it up and threw it towards the trash can, laughing probably a little too loudly about it. You were certain he knew it was a note from Tom's girlfriend. 

You were still for five minutes, stunned. Ultimately, you decided to cut your lunch break short, packing up your stuff as quickly as possible, leaving a tip and rushing out, your back to the boys.

You had yet to bring anything up, though you weren't noticeably acting different around Tom. But when he mentioned the next week that his 'old friend' wanted to "eat dinner and get drunk" you were hesitant. You hoped this 'friend' was temporary, because the effects were already starting to show, and you didn't like what they were.

Tom didn't tell you when he'd be out with, Andrew, he said his name was? but you didn't think it would be the immediate week after the cupcake incident.

You were sitting on the kitchen stool, jotting down ideas for your shop when he came in.

"Oh, Y/N! Andrew and I decided to go out this Friday, said something about clubbing or shit. Anyways, he said don't expect me home early, but I might sneak away if he's drunk enough," he said, rather quickly, for while he was talking, he was filling a water bottle and grabbing some fruit.

"Wait, this Friday? I thought we-"

"Thanks, Y/N! Gotta head out," he was practically yelling, running to kiss you on the cheek before racing out and slamming the door shut.

Did he mean this Friday? His only day off for the rest of the month, the one where you two planned a film night, with take away and late night talks and star walks in the park?

It was only eight o'clock on a Wednesday morning, your late opening day, but you decided to head in early. Walking in, Jackson had already opened for you, being the gentleman he is, just setting up for the day, knowing you didn't want to walk in to a store full of customers without being there. He was sitting at a window table with his boyfriend, Jeremy, giggling and eating a muffin. When the door chime rung, he looked up, his boyfriend turning around to smile and wave while Jackson was coming towards you.

"Hey, Y/N! We're a little short on shortbread today," he laughed at his pun, "so I put in a new batch about 20 minutes ago. The chalk board is set up and the cappuccino machine is on-" he was about to turn away before he stopped abruptly. "Oh! And Tom stopped by while I was in the back. Jeremy said that he wanted you to know something about not eating cupcakes for this new diet? I don't know, he mentioned something about Anthony telling him about some diet that would help fo-"

"Andrew!" Jeremy cut in from behind, correcting him.

"Right, Andrew told him it would help for his job. So he said to stop making his weekly order."

"Oh," you weren't quite sure what you could say. Thank you? What the fuck? It was all jumbled into your brain too fast. "Thank you, J. Well, guess we should open shop for the day." With that, you worked until seven-thirty, an hour later than you usually would.

Arriving home, you walked in and set your bag down, heading for the kitchen to get water. Mid-drink, Tom walked in.

"Why are you home so late?"

You swallowed, placing the cup down, "I was working," you deadpanned, maneuvering around him so your shoulder wouldn't hit his on your way out. He followed you into the living room.

"It's almost 8!"

"Yeah? I don't know what you want me to say, Tommy. I'm sorry? I'll tell you what you want to hear, but that doesn't mean I mean it. "

He was silent for a second, laughing slightly, seemingly letting it go. You weren't joking, but you didn't want to argue, yet. "Right," he laughed again, "Sorry. I did want to talk to you though."

"We are talking."

"Smartass," he joked. You giggled slightly. "I've got to go back to press next week. I leave on Tuesday." You stopped laughing. 

"For how long?"

"I'm always gonna be away for the same amount of time, Y/N, you know that. I'll be back mid October." 

October? It was only the beginning of April.

"Well, I'll be back in London for a few days in July so you'll have that. Press ends around September, but I need to finish up Chaos Walking. I'll be here for Halloween though," he smiled encouragingly.

You nodded. "Okay.. do great things, Tommy," you always told him.

Friday rolled around, and you you were going to close the shop early for your night with Tom, but he was going out, so your plans were out the window. Instead, [your best friend] would be coming over at around eight. Tom would be gone by that time, right?

It didn't matter, because he wasn't even home when you got back from work. It was barely seven, you two usually had dinner together. Well, not this past week because he had plans with Harrison, and his brothers, and Andrew, and Tuwaine...and practically everyone else. Seeing as you had about an hour, you decided to shower, changing into some casual clothes. Tom was going clubbing... he wouldn't be back before 4 A.M., right? You didn't care, [your best friend] would spend the night anyways. You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

You were wearing a cute tank, your favorite sleepwear, and some loose sweat pants. You were drying your hair with a towel when the doorbell rang. It rang again, so with the towel in your hand you ran down the stairs, yelling, "just a second," but it rang again. You swung the door open, confused, because [your best friend] always came in unannounced because you two were completely comfortable with each other. Instead, you were met with the boy from the cafe, Andrew. You looked around, and saw Tom's car parked by the curb, Tom waiting in the driver's seat while talking to someone in the back.

"Hey, Tom texted you or- whatever. We're going clubbing, can you get his stuff?"

"Uhm.. stuff?"

"Yeah.. he said you'd put his stuff inna backpack so he could get ready at my place," he answered confidently, as if you knew about this.

"I'm- uh, sorry? I don't have anything," you answered.

"What?" his eyes were wide with annoyance and disbelief.

The car honked, and Andrew turned around, shrugging his shoulder and mouthing something to Tom, before Tom came out and up to you.

"Didn't you get my text, Y/N? About the stuff sitting on my dresser?" he asked, straight up without so much as a 'hello' or 'how're you?'.

"No, I- no. No I didn't get your text, Tom."

"Well-"

"Well?" you interrupted.

"Thanks for, nothing I guess," he responded, moving past you and into the house to retrieve his things. Once again, you were left with Andrew on your porch, only this time he was eyeing you up and down, winking at you before yelling to Tom and going back to the car, Tom following not long after. This time, he didn't even bother saying goodbye on his way out. Just as they drove off, [your best friend] walked up.

"What the hell was that?" she shrieked.

"What?"

"That whole, 'thanks for nothing' bullshit. What kind of boyfriend thinks he can say that to his girlfriend?!"

You started heading in, taking one of her bags with you as she followed you inside. Placing her things down, you turned around, giving her a bear hug which she gladly returned.

"It wasn't that bad. Besides, he's been worse this week," you explained.

She was silent for a moment, shaking her head before talking. "Okay, I see why you called for a girl's night on such short notice. C'mon, lets get changed into some pajamas and get the snacks ready. It's been far too long since we've had actual time with each other," she gave you a sentimental smile, soft and sweet. You nodded, already planning on what to get and where to make the fort of blankets you already knew she wanted.

About half an hour later, she was in comfortable clothes, and you were in the kitchen making hot chocolate, getting chips and dip and pretzels and candy and everything in between. You had both decided to use the guest bedroom, which was accompanied with it's own bathroom. The room was probably a little smaller than the master bedroom, which was normal, but the bathroom was more expensive than yours. Plus, this one was used when the boys came over, so the Xbox, all the video games, movies, and the music equipment was here. Even with all this expensive stuff, the room was still as big as ever, so putting a fort in front of the bed barely took up any space.

You had to make at least three trips for all the food and stuff you were bringing, and because this was a guest bedroom, it had a mini refrigerator. Both of you decided to keep it pg-13, no alcohol or rated-R movies. Tonight, it was a Disney marathon with hot cocoa. At around 11:30, you had just finished your third movie, Beauty and the Beast, when [your best friend] stopped the ending credits and turned to you.

"Before we watch anything else," she turned to you while you did the same, "let's talk. We can fall asleep watching Disney, but we can't fall asleep and keep talking," you interrupted her, laughing, before nodding away. "So.. what's going on? With Tom, I mean, because you mentioned that he was worse earlier this week than he was today, and tonight he was pretty nasty so I mean- yeah, what else has he done?"

You paused, looking down and sighing, giving in. "Well, it started with Andrew, some 'old friend' he wanted to catch up with. I gave Tom some cupcakes and tea from the shop to eat with him. I was on my lunch break when the boys came into the same cafe and started eating. They didn't like it and- well.. they sorta threw it out after gagging about it," you said. Her eyes went wide. "I don't know, [best friend's nickname], I mean at first I was stunned, hurt obviously because it seemed to be on purpose because Tom knows I always go to that cafe on my lunch break. Is it a coincidence that he came to the same cafe at the exact same time I have my lunch break?"

You went on to explain how Tom had cancelled two dinner dates and a movie night within the past two weeks, and that he was going clubbing without inviting you, cancelling his weekly cupcake order and calling you clingy after you texted him about making sure he ate dinner. Not to mention he only just mentioned him leaving next week on a press tour, and spending his only day off with Andrew even though you two had planned spending that day together for a month.

By the time you were done listing off all the reasons, you were sobbing into [your best friend's] chest, trying to catch your breath. It was too late though, because Tom wasn't here and the events leading up to an attack like this could have only been noticed by him, seeing as [your best friend] wasn't here to see them herself. You couldn't hear anything, your pounding heart being the only thing filling your ears. [Your best friend's] attempt to calm you down wasn't working, resorting to the breathing exercises which were slowly drowned out. You could't even get a breath in. The realization hit you: if you didn't take control, you would faint. You had never had an attack this intense in at least four months, so everything needed to help you would take too long to get.

You gripped her arm, unable to focus on anything except for the fact that you were going to faint.

"I'm here, Y/N, I'm right here. It's going to be okay, right? We're gonna work things out. Yeah? Everything's gonna be alright. We're gonna be alright. We'll be alright," she cooed.

You blacked out, only for about two minutes, but you did. When you woke, you sobbed again, finding a steady breath before completely crushing [your best friend] with a hug, gripping her tightly.

"Thank you," you whispered.

She got you settled, convincing you to snack lightly before brushing your teeth, making sure you drank water. The fort was ready, untouched since your movie marathon, so you both climbed in and fell asleep watching Disney.

Four hours later, it was four o'clock in the morning, and the front door slammed shut.

"Y/N!" Tom slurred, dragging out the last syllable of your name. "Y/N!" he repeated, the same way but louder. "Where the fu-! OH! OW!" he screamed.

You and [your best friend] were already starting to sit up, confusion spreading across your faces before she got up, following her directly after. She opened the bedroom the door, and you stepped out, making your way down the stairs and seeing Tom sitting on the ground, missing a shoe with a rip on his shirt sleeve.

"There you are! I wus at the club a-and Andrew and I were hanging out and he took home some girl- he said if he was getting laid that I should come home and get laid by my lame-ass girlfriend, so come here! Fuck me!" he slurred, talking too loudly for your liking.

"Did you just call her a lame-"

"Tom, you're drunk. Go to bed," you cut her off, knowing how protective she would get. Honestly, you wanted her to scream and shout and yell at him, and you wanted to join her. But if you were going to, you wanted him to be completely sober so the guilt would really sink in.

"No wonder you're a lame-ass," he muttered.

"What was that?" [your best friend] yelled.

"Nothing! I'm going up to bed, see?" He looked at both of you before running up the stairs like a kid.

You both stood there, a little hesitant, before going up the stairs, talking on your way.

"Y/N, I swear if you hit him, you better knock some sense into him because that boy is so ridiculously stupid and undeserving of your love."

You laughed, growing quiet because you were beginning to think she was right. 

The next morning, you and [your best friend] got up at nine to make pancakes and bacon, your usual sleepover breakfast. The speaker was playing One Direction, both of you singing and slightly dancing when Tom came downstairs, disheveled and hungover.

It was Saturday, his last Saturday with you, but it had taken him too long to get interested in hanging out with his girlfriend. "Hey, Y/N. Wanna do something today?" he asked.

[Your best friend] looked at you, but you had already made up your mind. "Sorry, Tom, [your best friend] and I are going shopping together. Next time, though,"  you said, before putting your dishes in the sink and slipping out of the room, [your best friend] following you out.

That night, you and your best friend departed ways, telling her you'd call and let her know when she could come over again. You got home, and decided to put your new things in the guest bedroom, because your clothes from last night were still there. The mess, luckily, was cleaned up thanks to [your best friend], who convinced you to help with the cleanup.

It was nearly ten-thirty by the time you got situated. You were in a new set of pajamas, sitting in front of the tele in the guest bedroom on the floor, looking at all the new things you bought. You found this super cute sweater, and a pair of jeans [your best friend] insisted on buying for you. You also found a pair of shoes to go with an outfit you had planned in your head; it was perfect. People say your looks shouldn't matter, but you felt good when you looked good, so you loved fashion. Overall, you and [your best friend] must have spent at least $800.

At around 11, you heard footsteps running around the house, before Tom came into the guest bedroom.

"What're you doing in here? Aren't you gonna sleep in our room?" he looked worried.

You lowered the shirt you were looking at, making eye contact. You hesitated, "I- yeah... Yeah I guess."

"You guess?"

You just shook your head, trying to be playful with it, but ending up avoiding his gaze all together and going back to looking at your new things.

"Y/N?"

You looked up, "Yeah?"

He looked --  surprised almost? There seemed to be a glint of hurt in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded, getting up and setting the shirt back in its bag, "C'mon, lets just go to bed."

He mumbled an agreement, turning around and walking to your bedroom. You left the guest room, closing the door and going into your room. It was weird-- to even consider it your bedroom, because you hadn't slept in it for about three days. The last time you did, Tom wasn't with you. Was it normal? Did all couples go through things like this? You didn't have much time to dwell on the thought, because you were already under the covers, sleep consuming you before Tom got the chance to talk to you about anything.

It was almost noon when you woke up on Sunday. Rolling over, you felt Tom's side of the bed empty. The feeling of the cold sheets didn't come as a surprise to you, he was gone every time you woke up even though he didn't start filming until around 10 A.M. . It was different this time, because it was your last weekend together. He was always at home on the weekends he wasn't away filming. 

You pulled the covers off you, walking downstairs into the kitchen where you were met with Tom and Haz, quietly whispering things to each other. You didn't get to listen long, for both boys shot up and stood straighter, smiling to you. You just looked at them, slightly rolling your eyes before grabbing some juice and heading back into the guest bedroom.

When you came down ten minutes later for breakfast, both boys were talking normally again.

"Just talk to her, alright man?" Haz spoke.

"What am I supposed to say man? I can't just go up to my girlfriend and tell her I'm fucking pissed at how she's been ignoring me. Not gonna be rude like her-"

"Woah- woah woah, Tom. She's not that rude. Just have a civilized conversation with her. It's easy, you're just overthinking it."

"Okay.. okay, yeah- yeah," he stuttered, turning around on his heal but abruptly stopping when he saw you standing in the doorway. His jaw dropped, noticing your anger immediately.

"Maybe I should go-" Harrison started.

"No, no don't bother. I'll go, it's obvious you both want it."

You turned around, going up to Tom's bedroom and getting a change of clothes, immediately putting on your jeans and the rest of your outfit, before Tom came barging in.

"No- Y/N, I'm sorry. Please, let's talk," he begged.

You ignored him, getting some more clothes, enough to last you two days, before going into the bathroom for your makeup bag and some deodorant. Going back into the closet, you grabbed your work backpack, making sure all your notebooks and journals were in it, before shoving the things you had in to join them.

"Y/N, please. I-  listen to me, please. I'm sorry, let's just talk. Talk it through, yeah?" he asked.

You looked up, talking rather emotionless. "No. We can talk when we've both thought our shit through, although I thought it was only you who needed to get their shit together, but obviously I was wrong. I'll be back after work on Monday, if you're even here to notice." With that, you moved past him, grabbing your phone and texting [your best friend], picking up your keys from it's hook and heading for the door. Haz was standing in the living room, and when you passed him he gave you a sentimental look, but you payed no mind as you glared him down, opening the door and slamming it in Tom's face, for he was downstairs too late.

About 10 hours had passed since you left, and Tom had only thought about you for two of them. Andrew and 'the gang' had called him, insisting that him and Haz join them for some fun. Tom had reluctantly agreed, much to Harrison's dismay.

At around eleven o'clock, Tom had had enough 'fun'. The guilt in him was killing him, but his anger for you was killing him even more. Telling Haz he'd be heading out, he drove home, getting into bed and thinking about what you'd talk about when you got back.

Monday had passed, and you were doing better than you thought you would be. You opened shop about 30 minutes early that Monday morning, knowing it was better to keep yourself occupied. It was [your best friend's] week off, so she offered to come with you to work, and 'volunteer' almost. She had quite some experience in waitress-ing , so you gave her that job. Around noon, Tom came into the shop, and [your best friend] called out, "Incoming, [your nickname]."

You looked up from the cappuccino machine, turning around to face the door Tom had just entered. The minute you saw him coming towards you, you spoke. Luckily there weren't that many people around who didn't know you, so they didn't react when you yelled at Tom.

"Get out."

"I just wanted to-"

"Get OUT!" you yelled, louder when Tom didn't listen to you.

He moved forward, leaving a Hershey kiss near the cash register, looking to you for your reaction. You picked it up, and threw it to [your best friend], who unwrapped it and ate it herself. He left after she pointed towards the door.

When you closed shop, you decided to head home, seeing as he was leaving tomorrow and you had obviously thought a lot about what to do. The only option, really: talk it out.

Walking in, you placed your bag by the door and went to get some water in the kitchen. Tom was standing there, staring into space. He noticed you come in, and immediately stood up straighter, obviously becoming more aware of his surroundings.

"Are you- are we talking now?"

"I'm here, yeah. Let's talk," you answered setting your cup down.

"What's your problem?" he asked. You looked at him like he was crazy, so he went on. "I mean, these past few weeks, you've completely ignored me. And when you did acknowledge me, it was a rather rude encounter. "

"You think I'm rude?" he nodded, and you scoffed. "Well I'm sorry you think I'm rude. You wanna know what I think is rude?"

"Look, I'm sorry my being honest upset you. But nobody said the truth was nice," he interrupted.

"Tom, what the fuck?"

"I'm just saying! Out of the two of us, you're the one who has more problems!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that you are always the one who cries over shit, and gets upset at little things," he answered. You looked at him in disbelief. "What I'm saying is you're over-dramatic and too sensitive."

"Oh for fuck's sake," you started. "You just- you just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"You said to talk! I'm talking!"

"You're being completely unreasonable."

"Am I? Because all you've talked about is how you think I'm crazy. Do you even have anything to say?"

"Fine! You want me to talk? I'll talk. I've been rude to you because you are the one who let that man you call a fucking friend insult my life's work. You completely agreed with him, took in my hate and didn't even stand up for me!" You yelled. Tom didn't know you knew about that, and he was about to interject but you kept going, "And to make things worse, you kept seeing him! Every single fucking week, it was 'Andrew said this!' 'Andrew said that!'. You cancelled dates to see him! Call me over-dramatic, but when your boyfriend cancels a date on his only day off, I think most girls would be pretty fucking pissed," you walked out of the kitchen.

Tom was in the living room too, following you. "Yeah, well I'm sorry I cancelled our plans, but we live together. Don't you think we see enough of each other because of that?"

"Wha- what?"

"Think about it! We see each other all time because we live together," he reasoned.

"Yeah, I guess you're right,"

"See-"

"If you were ever around, I would see you a lot. But you're never around, so no, Tom, we don't see each other a lot. I work too, remember!"

"Not like I do," he mumbled.

"What?" you yelled.

"Nothing."

"No, Tommy. If you have something to say, you better fucking say it or so help me-"

"I said 'not like I do'!"

"What? Because I'm not some movie star with his head up his ass, I don't work hard?"

"My head's not in my ass, yours is! All I wanted to do was talk things out, not get fucking blamed for things that aren't my fault!"

"Yeah? Well all I wanted was someone better," you quipped back.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What have I done wrong! Please, enlighten me! All you've done is complain about the stupidest things!"

"So my feelings are stupid, now?"

"Did I fucking say they were?" he yelled, voice raising as he stepped closer.

"Sounded like it to me!" you yelled, raising your voice to meet his.

"Just tell me! Do you have anything else to say?"

"You- you really are stupid, Tom."

"No, Y/N. I'm not. You are, not even telling me why you're so fucking angry at me."

"I'm angry because I had my first attack in months because of you. You! The person who told me he'd always be there to help me through one, not cause one. I'm angry because you go out without even bothering to ask if I'd like to join you. A-And then you just throw it at me that you're leaving for, what? Seven months?!  Not to mention you completely stopped eating things from my shop because of a so-called diet? And you're off with that Andrew guy, who eyed me like a pervert even though he knows I'm taken. You know how uncomfortable I am with that! And don't you dare say you didn't know, when you're the one coming home drunk telling me he's picked up another girl and telling you that you should go home and get laid too. God knows you'd listen to him if he asked you to cheat on me. Not to mention how you called me fucking clingy because I was checking up on you. You want me to stop making sure you're okay? You want me to stop caring?" you screamed. "Because you say the words and I will fucking back off for good. "

He was silent for a second, only missing a beat, contemplating on if he should apologize or keep fighting. Because he didn't want you to be angry, but he wanted to win. He needed to win. "Yeah, I wish you would back the fuck off. You're always on me!" he screamed. "And I get wanting to be affectionate, but you're just fucking sickening. Too much love."

That made you stop. "You think I'm loving you too much?" you asked quietly, and Tom looked at you, really looked at you, after hearing the change in your voice. You were quiet, practically whispering now. It wavered slightly, your eyes were glossy and red.

"I- I didn't-" he started, but it was no use. The damage was done.

He knew better than anyone about your past, which had caused a massive buildup in insecurities that were inevitably killing you. When you met Tom, he had promised to discard each and every one of your insecurities until you loved yourself as much as he did.

"No, you did. And you fucking know it." You were walking upstairs, getting yet another bag ready to last you until Tom left for his press tour.

"No, no Y/N, I'm sorry. Listen to me, baby. I didn't mean it," he begged.

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it," you said, choosing a few shirts to shove into your backpack. "Your intentions were pretty clear, Tommy. I'll stop caring for you, stop putting in effort for this toxic relationship. I'll stop loving you, because right now, it seems like loving you is the one thing wrong with me," you said, finding some pants and your makeup bag.

You were making your way downstairs now, "Y/N, Y/N please. Please I need you. I can't leave us like this- not when I leave tomorrow."

"What 'us,' Tom? There is no 'us' anymore."

"What're you saying?" he asked, tears finally falling from his face.

"I'm saying it's time I move on from you. Moving on means not having you. So, we're done," you opened the front door.

Tom stood in the doorway while you gripped the handle. "So- we- we're.."

"I'll be out before you come in July," you filled in. With that you slammed the door, driving to [your best friend's] house, while Tom sobbed on the floor in what used to be a home of two people who loved each other.

[iphoenixrising]

How do you think the boys will react to Dr Tim in fear gas (like full dose of it)??

Hi babe.

I’ve said it before, but ah. Be careful what you wish for, heh. 

But no, really hasn’t poor Dr. Tim been through enough? Guy has already narrowly escaped collapsing bridges, been up close and personal with the Joker, fought off Scarecrow’s goons, AND was smack dab in the middle of an honest-to-God Arkham Riot.Now we’re going to just get him all up in some fear toxin? Good Lord, can the man get a break? He hasn’t had some smut in a while tbh. (winks over to chippon)

BUT.

WARNINGS FOR: 

Mentions of child abuse 

Mentions of gore, blood, grossness 

You will be crying by the end. Guaranteed. 

Extreme mental and emotional HURT 

Tim’s fears are Jesus-Fucking-Christ level bad 

You’ve been warned :D

**

He’s not even back to work yet after that ambulance wreck, still feels the road rash, pulled muscles, and residual owfuck from a little rough and tumble time at Arkham Asylum. 

But, he’s in a convenience store for fuck’s sake because Jay wouldn’t let him have coffee this morning (nah, Sweets. Ya ain’t godda get up yet. Jus’ go back ta sleep wid’ me, yeah? We’re gonna stay here all warm n’ snug. Sshh. I gotcha, Timmy), and he’d managed to wrangle himself out of Jay’s arms when he woke up again, found out there’s only enough grounds for a shitty, weak pot, and Tim can’t even stand the thought of it.

Unfortunately, he gets a whole lot of random bad guys stopping in for those terrible hot dogs and road drinks on their way out of Gotham.

(Crane looks just as horrifying as he remembers from the hospital that one time, and Tim fervently hopes, hopes none of these henchmen recognize him in a beat-up hoodie and saggy sweatpants.)

What makes matters worse?

Crane isn’t even trying to be, you know, an evil villain.

There’s a put-upon sign behind the mask, and the fear gas comes out of nowhere, getting everyone in the store because the guy just doesn’t want to deal with civilians right this moment. He missed the break-out and decided to have a party all on his own, but he hasn’t even gotten the time to get the plan for his next evil scheme ready yet.

So he raises a hand and sprays a little gas to keep people from being lucid enough to call the cops and rat him out. He needs some time for a good getaway.

Tim, however, sees the inevitable coming and is frozen to the spot, can’t get his weak knees to unlock so he can at least try to duck. Instead, he gets it full in the face.

In a sweep, Crane sprays the small store as his henchmen drop a $20 in front of the coughing clerk and take off back out the door. Hotdogs and all.

Tim scrabbles for his phone, the noxious cloud makes his eyes water, his lungs fucking burn on the first choked, shocked breath. Even when he tries to hold his breath, he’s too terrified, knees going out just as he thumbs the screen behind his back.  

“Timmy?” is tinny and far away while he tries to at least breath shallow, eyes dart to the door, his brain tuned into the whole get out and away before the inevitable happens.

He’s got to get to Jay, he’s got to get out of here and get to someone. If he starts talking while hepped up on fear gas, he could give away everyone’s secrets. He could tell random strangers who everyone really is, he could tell anyone their weaknesses, he could put everyone in danger.

Building blocks. If he can get to a lab, to Steph’s, back to his penthouse, anywhere not here, he can probably crack the building blocks of the toxin before it takes him over completely.

He doesn’t even hear, “Baby? Ya there? Didja butt dial again? Thought I tol’ ya ta stay in bed with me, yeah?”

Not with the door right there.

All he has to do is make his weak knees fucking work, ignore the burn in his lungs, his brain, his eyes teary with the cloud still thick around him, with the abrupt slam of his heart in his chest, with the sudden shadows in the niches that hadn’t been there before.

He just has to get to that fucking door. Has to be able to run.

Tim manages to mostly get there before the screaming starts.

**

Dick is working the day shift in the uniform when word Crane struck come over the wire.

Whenever it’s one of the big bads, he gets close enough to get the details before handily disappearing to slip into something a little more comfortable.

(He knows his ass is spectacular in the Nightwing suit.)

A boop from his pocket is his Batcomm notification, and he pops it in just as he dips into the men’s room with a plan to get out one of the usual windows.

“We’ve got Crane on the move, O. Might want to drop B a line.”

“Already aware, Boy Wonder. It’s more severe than you realize.” His phone goes off as Dick is shimmying out the window and up the building where he keeps a spare suit in a nice waterproof bag hidden in the overhang.

When he checks whatever oh shit is added to a potentially deadly scene, he’s got a text from Jay and a picture from O.

Surveillance footage from inside a convenience store where Crane evidently attacked some civilians. His breath catches when one of the faces turned away to try avoiding the gas is–

Timmy.

“Fuck,” is a little breathless with a very different kind of fear, and Dick immediately turns it up a notch, throwing his suit on and slapping a domino over his eyes. “What can you tell me, O?”

Quick check on what he’s got to work with.

“B and Rob are already in pursuit. Signal is approaching to assist. As far as we can tell, this is the only place Crane managed to hit. Everyone’s mostly been accounted for by GCPD.”

“I sense a but coming–” and he checks his phone two seconds before time to fly, and the text from Jay is something about Tim and screaming, and now he won’t pick up the phone...

“O?” Because dread strikes him in the chest.

“He’s the only civilian missing. He must have already taken off before the patrol car got there.”

“He was hit with fear gas, and he took off?”

The jumpline is already in his hand before he even hits the edge of the roof at a run. It’s go time.

So, it’s a race to find Tim, all doped up on fear toxin and probably tripping out of his mind in one of the most dangerous cities in America where people like the Joker and Two-Face might hold a grudge.

Jason was already suited up before he sent that text to Dickie, was outta there when the sounds came over the line, the familiar screams. It’s a particular flavor of terror spelled out that Timmy, was probably in trouble.

He hits up O with the deets while Nightwing hits the almost-night, making the first swing fucking count.

**

The world alters and shift around him, almost throwing him off his feet more than once.

He’s already completely lost his sense of direction, trying to keep his eyes closed in a last ditch effort to keep the hallucinations at bay.

(It’s just chemicals fucking with your brain. You can beat this. It’s not real. None of it is real. You know that. You know it’s just–

Brick under his fingertips, abrading the sensitive skin. Stumbles over a curb, and the loud whonkkkkk almost rips a surprised yip out of him. Tim cracks his eyes open, heart picking up when the yellow lights look like the porch light from the Johnson’s house–

– before they brought him back.

“He’s…a special child. He needs more than we can give him–”

“He can’t get along with the other children, so I’m afraid–”

“Well, you see. Mary is pregnant! It’s-it’s a miracle, and we like Tim, really we do–“

Tim grits his teeth, hears so much wahwahwah than anyone really talking, telling him to get the hell out of the street, what is he thinking?

But instead of a shadow of a motorist that had pretty much almost run him over, all he can see is Detective Gordon, way back when he’d been the one to come to the Drake’s manor and give him the news.

His mom and dad weren’t coming back, not ever.

“N-No,” he whimper screams, slamming his eyes closed, and takes off again. It’s a full tilt run, every person he meets with someone else’s face.

Michael McCannon, the guy that beat the shit out of his foster kids.

Lilly Wright, wanted the income from having a foster in her house, didn’t care if he went to school, if he slept, if he ate, if he was dead in a gutter because he fell off a roof running after–

He smacks his palms into brick, scraping his face, turns and there’s Tony Stark back when he’d first met. Intimidating and imposing, eyes narrowed in distaste.

He runs faster, only half recognizes the buildings as he goes. He knocks into someone, eats face in an alley, panting and sweating, eyes full of tears, brain on fucking fire.

“Drake!” Hissed from the shadows, the darkness parting for red, gold, and green.

But it’s too much red, too much red.

“N-no, nonono,” and now he’s outright sobbing, scrabbling to his feet because Dami, Dami, is in a ragged, torn tunic, skin broken and blood fucking pouring out of him.

He’s got both hands on the vigilante, brain failing him, spitting out the mortality rate of being run the fuck through.

“No, no, no Dami, Dami,” he’s pressing on the worst wound, tears streaming down his face, babbling incoherently, apologizing, begging this kid, the little brother he should have had, not to fucking die and leave him too.

Robin, laying where the doctor had apparently thrown him, is staring up in shock, hands on Drake’s forearms where he’s pressing at some imaginary wound.

“Don’t die, Dami. Stay with me! Please stay with me!” Is fairly screamed in the cold night.

And Robin catches his breath at this, this, as one of Drake’s worst fears.

“D-Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I-I can’t lose you, too.” Tim weeps, pulling both hands back, staring down at what must see as blood and viscera.

“I am sorry, Timothy,” Robin breathes out hoarsely, frees a hand to pull back, teeth clenched against what he’s about to do, and punches their doctor with real intent.

As he hopes, Tim goes down like a stone, unconscious on the dirty ground, tears still on his face from terror and grief.

In a breath, Robin is on his feet, kneeling over Drake, tapping the comm in his ear. “Hood, N, Father. I have located him. He has been…affected. I am uncertain if the anti-toxin in my belt would do further harm, so I have not administered it as of yet.”

“Rob,” Hood’s response is immediate, “Big Wing’s with Daddy Bat takin’ care a’ the last of ‘em.  I’m headin’ atcha now.”

“Meet me at the Black Bird. Hurry,” Robin cuts off, and gently, oh so gently for his normal, lifts Tim’s upper body against his chest, points a gauntlet at the roof to fire the jump line, reel them both in.

At sixteen, the youngest vigilante has nearly outgrown the doctor, and has no trouble lifting Tim up to carry him across the roof, occasionally looking down to make sure Tim is still out.

His own vehicle, the Black Bird, is hidden close to a safe house for the Bats. Balancing Tim in his arms, he taps his utility belt, the container hiding the car folding away.

Hood is on the ground, immediately takes Timmy from Rob, looking at the scrapes on his face.

“In, in!” Robin snaps, shooing Hood in the back with their Doctor. “We must get him to the Cave immediately.”

He dives in the driver’s seat, revving the engine fast, tapping his mask for the whiteouts to slide up. He takes in the immediate area with a glance, and peels out into the night.

Jay deactivates the helmet, tosses it in the front seat, wraps both arms around Timmy in his lap, tapping the comm to listen up at Dickie and B on clean-up whiles he winds up to get all the deets outta the Demon.

“Tell it ta me straight, Lil’ D. How bad wassit?”

He’s looking in the rearview because the kid’s eyes always give him away.

He ain’t prepared to see the Demon blinking rapidly, jaw clenched tight. “He is fully effected. Hallucinations, inability to discern outside voices. I called to him. He was not able to hear me. See me, yes, but he believed I was…dying. He attempted to treat me, asked me not to…”

Robin makes a hard right turn, shoves his foot against the pedal to drift it. He shoves in the clutch, shifts the gears, biting down on his lower lip (“Don’t leave me, I can’t lose you.”).

He evens out, hitting the Robert Kane Bridge to take them out of Gotham proper and closer to the Manor.

“Dames?” Jay makes it soft because the kid is obviously shook.

Robin pushes the car to 105 mph to sail over the bridge.

“His fear was he would be unable to save me. The wound…he believed the wound made by Hush would kill me yet again, I believe.”

Jason Todd breathes in sharply, freeing up a hand to fit at the back of Rob’s neck, make circles with his thumb.

“Sorry that mighta brought ya back.” His tone is low with sympathy, empathy.

And for a moment, Damian Wayne, not Robin, leans back into that hand, lets it ground him while the night flies by the window, while he watches the darkness for everything while he downshifts, when the road starts getting less defined further out of the city they go.

“It is not that,” Damian admits, “one day, one of us, perhaps all of us, will not return. Nothing he can do will prevent that.”

“I know, Baby Bat. Let’s hope it ain’t any day soon, you feel me?” And Jay, tries to keep it gentle, tries to keep the circles going, tries to be easy about it so Baby Bat won’t try ta pull away, put it all back inna box to fester.

“Agreed. However, do not be surprised if he comes to fighting. We must monitor his vitals closely if this toxin is similar to the last batch.”

“I gotcha. S’all right, we’re gonna take care of him, ain’t we?”

Damian makes an affirmative noise and leans forward out of Jay’s grip, pressing the gas, then gearing back up.

**

Tim comes to as the restraints are tightened, Alfred Pennyworth securing several sticky discs to his chest, and a pulse oximeter to his finger.

“We’ll see you soon, Son. Be a good boy while we’re gone.”

Makes his eye fly open wide, his heart slam painfully against his rib cage, his arms jerk where his wrists are restrained.

“Boys,” a cultured voice calls the second his eyes open, but Tim can’t see anything, not with his heart in his throat, not with his Dad’s voice ghosting out after over a decade and a half.

When he glances over, horrified at the tall figure coming closer, hands raised up in surrender, and his eyes were empty, gorey sockets, black sludge from the empty cavity. Purple lips and half-rotting flesh, the last clothes he’d seen his father wearing, his best suit, the one he’d wear to Drake Industries on the stints they were home and Dad worked in the office.

Tatters and grave dirt, bone peeking out from shriveled flesh…

“Dad,” is a broken, hoarse croak, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried. I tried to be good,” and the closer his dead, decaying Father gets, the more he fights whatever is keeping him still, won’t let him run for his own fucking sanity, “I tried! I tried and you still didn’t come home! It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t–!”

He chokes, gags because Dad is right by the bedside, and now Tim can see the inside of his black mouth, the tongue putrid and pale without blood, and the smell–

He’s probably screaming, even if he can’t hear himself.

Something is strapped over his face, and he fights it, knows it’s a plastic mask, pumping something into his lungs, just like the fear toxin.

A turn of the head, and it’s the reversal of his first meeting with-with

The Joker.

Harley isn’t on the table bleeding out this time. It’s the two of them standing over him, a huge needle full of green sludge right by the Joker’s shoulder, right next to his horrifically sick smile.

He’s wearing a mock head lamp and white coat, Tim’s own badge dangling from his pocket. He turns to the smaller figure of Harley, the nurse sidekick with a frightening set of tools. The orbitoclast is brown with old blood and brain matter, the leucotome wire is rusty, the plunger to send that wire into his brain almost black with old gore.

And he fucking chokes.

“Hold on to those, Nurse. If my wonderful formula doesn’t do the trick, then we’ll have options! Huh, huh, huh,” and the bastard leans into him, that sickening smile, those wide, lucid eyes.

“He’s going to be our good boy, one way or the other, isn’t he?” And the dark growl of it, the promise is what makes him start screaming again.

Hands on his straining arms, a big body right by the bed when he turns, flinches away as far as the hold could let him.

“Oh no. No no no,” is a whimper, a plea, “I didn’t say anything to anyone, Mr. Johnson, I swear. I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

The grip on his arms becomes bruising, painful, terrifying all over again.

Tim clamps down, remembers the beatings hadn’t been as bad if he could keep quiet.

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a little shit.”

It’s Mr. Johnson’s words, but Jason’s voice.

“You need a good ass beaten’, kid. That’ll straighten you right out. That’s what all you fuckers need. Lucky for you I don’t mind making sure you keep on the straight and narrow.”

He doesn’t realize he’s chanting, “don’thitme, don’tdon’tdon’t, please please,  don’t,” while Mr. Johnson backs off, the old recriminations and reprimands rolling right out in Jay’s smooth baritone.

He’s outright sobbing, arms trembling above his head where he’s trapped, trapped. He can’t move, he can’t run, he can’t hide, he can’t–

And a blink takes him to the same fire escape outside his penthouse where he’d found Nightwing bleeding out, pulse already weakening, breathing shallow–

“What–“

The whiteouts on that domino are up so he can see Nightwing’s blue eyes flutter open weakly, can see the hand move gingerly to the bleeding wound on his abdomen.

“I can help you,” he yells out, hoping to make those eyes look at him, to get the vigilante to come to him, “I can save you, but you’ve got to get here.” This time his hands, his arms, his whole body is straining to get free, to reach the vigilante that needs him, that’s dying on him while he fucking watches.

The vigilante half-smiles at him, finger stripes more dark than blue, and his head goes back, visibly slumping.

“Nightwing, Nightwing, look at me! Open your eyes!” He knows he’s begging, fighting, but there’s bands around his chest, around his wrists, his ankles and thighs.

“I need, I need sutures, gloves, blood bag, and-and, I need, I need–“ but Nightwing’s head flops and his chest stutters, “LOOK AT ME! You can’t die like this, you can’t. I’m right here, I can save you!”

He sobs out loud, whole body jerking to get free.

“Ssshhh, baby doll, ssshhh,” makes him open his eyes even though he can barely see through the tears streaming down his face, his sobbing, his heart pounding copper in the back of his throat.

And there’s Jay, lying on his chest, all soft and sweet, with a post-sex grin. He’s too beautiful to be real.

“Jay?” He croaks.

“Yeah,” all soft and sweet.

Until he tilts his head, and the horrific smile below his chin leaks rich red down his throat.

“J-Jay?!” His eyes go wide and horrified because there’s his vigilante boyfriend bleeding out all over his chest, far gone enough to be silly and loopy with blood loss.

“S’okay, yeah? When s’time, s’time. Don’t gotta be sad about it, Timmy.”

“N-No, no, put-Jay, listen to me, put pressure on it, okay? Put both hands and press down. You-you’re loosing too much blood. I need you to–“

“That ain’t what’s happening here, Timmers.” Slurry and low, Jay’s face getting pale, eyes fluttering. “Like I tol’ ya b’fore. One day…one day I ain’t gonna come back. S’ just gonna be my time.”

And Tim’s shirt is wet with it, Jay’s blood staining him, soaking through his clothes, the weight of his big body heavier as his strength goes, as his eyes get dimmer, the jade flecks all but gone.

“You can’t. Jay, babe, you can’t. You have to fight. Please fight,” his hands are straining, but he’s so tired, weak, isn’t strong enough to get to them, to save them from their fates. "I don't... I can't be the last one left standing again. I can't. Please, fight. Please!"

'"Nah, Baby. Small right now. Love ya. Love ya s'much."

"I love you too," he sobs, can't breathe, can't think.

(He’s never been strong enough, has he? He’s not strong enough to be what they need.)

He finally can’t fight anymore, just stays pinned under Jay’s weakening body to cry and shake apart.

**

“Do something,” Dick yells, tears running down his face where he’s pinning Tim’s legs down so he stops hurting himself fighting the restraints.

Alfred, eyes narrow and wet-looking, huffs and turns on his heel abruptly. He fishes out supplies from the cabinet, uses a clean hypodermic to puncture the sedative.

Master Jason is staring up at Master Tim’s face, trying to be that boy in the Robin cape from all those years ago. Trying to be strong in the face of such horrors.

“Master Bruce, account for general anesthesia,” Alfred calls briskly and injects carefully into the IV.

“Understood,” the quickly working vigilante calls back from the lab, running the number a second time, darting looks at his children doing one of the hardest jobs he’s ever asked them to do.

He can tell by how Damian’s shoulders are shaking, Dick is opening crying against Tim’s hip, Jay’s lower lip trembling, eyes wet where he’s keeping Tim’s forearms pinned around the IV in his arm.

He add the variables, taking deep breaths, makes mental notes all over the place to look into Tim’s past foster parents.

Johnson. Right.

And the hardened bat can’t say his heart isn’t thundering in his throat watching Tim’s struggle, scream, cry out in grief, trying to use his reasoning and logic, having the fucking Joker of all people as part of his perpetual nightmares…

Bruce takes a calming breath, forces himself to be the Bat while he aches for the kids.

**

Twelve hours later, he comes to somewhere not his Penthouse or Dick’s apartment.

It’s chilly wherever he is, but for some reason his whole body just aches, hurts like he’d been in another damn car wreck or something. It’s too much effort to lift his head and look around, not when he’s pretty sure he’s in Dick’s lap, recognizes the smell of Dick’s jugular.

He hums a little, glad someone at least gave him a blanket because he’s at least mostly warm. His nose is pretty cold, but he just snuggles into Dick’s neck and sighs.

He tries to raise his knees to fold in, get warmer, but his heels bump into legs, and cracking his eyes open, he realizes Jay is sitting by Dick on the floor of the Cave, Tim laying over their laps.

He’s got a cotton ball taped to the inside of his forearm, and no idea why. He blinks a few times, lifts up enough to see Dami on Jay’s other side, head nudged against Jay’s shoulder. A hand is still on Tim’s ankle.

The sudden need to go to the bathroom drives him from their huddle on the cold floor, but at least he spreads the blanket out over them after he manages to pull out of their arms without waking them.

From their faces and expressions, whatever he isn’t immediately remembering couldn’t have been good.

But first, bathroom. Then, maybe coffee? Because that? Would be absolutely stellar at this juncture. Maybe some ibuprofen.

Luckily, there’s swanky digs in the Bat Cave, a set of lockers, showers, nice hot tub for long soaks after a night of kicking bad guy ass.

All the vigilante amenities.

He’s bleary and sore, staggering to the bathroom, noting B is asleep on the big computer, and Alfred sitting back in another chair, tea cup and saucer on the hard drive next to him.

He smiles a little, wonders if he can find a few more blankets somewhere.

A glance in the mirror as he was washing his hands shows him a bunch of road rash city. Man, he must have been caught up in the middle of something again.  

Seriously.

He splashes cold water on his face, works out the low throbbing ache of his bandaged wrists.

He’s shuffling back, thinking about just waking everyone the hell up to send people to bed, like themselves because his ass is numb, and there’s warm beds upstairs. When there’s pounding footsteps, skitters, and slides, whoosh of air, and Dick is right there up in his face, panting like he’d just sprinted all the way across the Cave in a quick hurry.

“Timmy?!”

He blinks up, still bleary about everything, his throat and voice wrecked as fuck, “hey honey. How was your night fighting shitty bad guys?”

He has no idea why Dick’s expression crumples, his eyes getting teary out of nowhere. He’s not prepared for Dick to start crying, to see his beautiful boyfriend hold a hand over his eyes and break down.

“Dick? Dick?”

He goes from holding himself, shuddering with the cold and ache in his bones, to up in Dick’s face, hand on his shoulder, looking for some injury, something to tell him how to help–

But Dick takes a few shuddering breaths under his hand, and Tim just wriggles his arms around Dick’s chest to hold on for a few long seconds before he gets full-on octopus hold right around his everything.

(Okay, that’s a relief.)

“…was it bad?” He asks softly, making circles with his palms as wide as Dick’s hold will let him.

“Y-Yes. It was bad. You don’t remember?” Dick sniffles against the side of his head, rocking them both gently.

“Not yet.” He shrugs an unconcerned shoulder. As someone who’s had a concussion (okay, okay, concussions), and has worked in the medical field in one of the most dangerous cities on the fucking planet, he knows there are plenty of bad guys with chemical weapons that don’t always leave short term memories in tact.

Dick shakes a little and holds him tighter.

“Fuckfuckfuck. Didja find 'im??!” As Jay rounds the corner and almost slams right into them.

He skids to a stop as Dick swiftly shifts them around out of the way. Jay doesn’t do anything to dislodge Dick’s grip, but palms the sides of Tim’s face, his eyes a hard, icy blue.

“Hey, Sweets, hey,” low in a dark way, not the usual, fun dark way. Tim has a strike of fear, takes stock of himself, of Dick, of Jay, wonders who else in the Cave might be hurt! That’s why they’re here. Someone got hurt coming after his ass, didn’t they?

“Dami? B?” He interrupts, eyes going from Jay to Dick and back.

“Fine, everyone’s fine,” is curt, short with him in a way that doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t have enough evidence.

“O-kay. You both are fine. B and Dami are fine. Alfred?”

Over his head, his boyfriends exchange a look that is really starting to worry him.

But the next twelve hours are virtually impossible to escape. The sordid details come out once Tim remembers being in that convenience store. He gets snatches of half-lucid memories, probably never will remember the entire things. The brain is the most fascinating part of the body for a reason, not only as the control center, but also as the decision-maker on what things to blot out to protect itself. 

By the time Dami starts out, they’ve migrated up to Wayne Manor, parted ways to shower and wash off the night. Dick and Jay bracketing him in, being absurdly gentle, consistent soft touches, fingers wrapping around his, hands on his back, kisses pressed into his hair.

There’s some scrapes on his forearms along with the ones on his face, washed gingerly in the shower where he finally feels warm again. Alfred leaves a special bled of his healing goop and has set out pajamas for all of them before he left, requesting them to please come have breakfast.

Tim’s stomach rumbles while they’re getting dressed, and he’s pretty much picked up, and carried down the massive staircase.

(Ugh, this is after the bridge fiasco all over again.)

But the end result: food and coffee in Wayne Manor, so bonus?

Dami is looking at him like a kicked puppy. A perpetual pissed off kicked puppy, but he tilts his head to the side inquiringly, raising his eyebrows in invitation.

“I found you almost at Sheldon Park,” Dami starts softly, but at least everyone’s eaten first.

He flinches a little when Bruce tells him what he’d said about his Dad. When Alfred tells him about the Joker and Harley Quinn either going to inject him with some crazy sauce or lobotomize him.

(Yup. Pretty horrifying either way.)

Dami tells him about seeing everyone die around him while Dick has a firm hand on his knee under the table, their chairs closer together than necessary. Jason gives no shits keeping his fingers wrapped up tight, squeezing occasionally. Alfred keeps the mug in his free hand full, stands just by Dick’s other shoulder.

“I mean,” he finally starts after everything is out in the open, “it’s literally a toxin that fucks with your brain chemistry. Not shocking I’d see pretty awful things. I see awful things...a lot, so,” he shrugs a little helplessly in the face of the whole family looking utter raw and split open. “I...I’m...sorry, really sorry I worried everyone. I’ll try to stop getting into trouble so much, you know? But, um. It is Gotham.”

The family crowds around him, bringing in rank around the table. 

And if he doesn’t have to stay at the Manor for the next week, geeze, and get coddled as fuck by the Batfamily, and get picked up from Mercy General every. single. night. for a while, and get wrapped up against two incredible vigilantes that whisper soft things against his throat, his ear, his mouth, his, well, his everything. 

If he doesn’t get Bruce herding him into the study where the fire is burning, and it seems like the Batman is the most patient person ever to let him–let him talk about some of those old pains when he was in the system. 

If Alfred literally can not make him eat enough food to be satisfied. Ever. And gives him a side-eye when he starts to push away a plate that has even a bite left.

(Alfred pizza is god-level, and you’ll never convince him otherwise. But if he eats anymore, he’s going to die. Please stop killing him with your tasty love.)

If Dami doesn’t make him watch NatGeo Wild with popcorn and boxes of candy, then grudgingly plays Mario Kart with him until Rainbow Road is like theirs. No questions asked.

If he finally doesn’t go back to his penthouse, breathes in the familiar smells, gets absolutely destroyed in the Best. Possible. Ways for the next five straight hours. If he isn’t a boneless pile of I can’t possibly come again, for the next week at least. 

If Baby Bird, Timmers, Sweets, Timmy, and Baby aren’t wrapped around him with arms and sweet kisses pressed to his forehead and hair every time he leaves for work or they leave for patrol.

If he was before this, in the slightest bit uncertain he belongs with them, as part of their family–

–he sure as hell knows better now.

At least that’s one less thing to be afraid of.

**

Note:

In Tim’s fear fueled delusion, the Joker is Alfred, Harley is Dami holding equipment to treat him. His dad was really B taking the blood samples from Alfred to analyze. He’s horrified once he realizes what Tim is seeing.

Mr. Johnson, the abusive foster parent is Jay, which Tim kind of associates because of the accent.

Dying Nightwing is Dick bent over to hold his legs down, and the next switch is really Jay laying over him upper body to keep him from hurting himself more.

(Congrats for making it to the end. *Hands tissue*)

[angelsdevils]

Asta x Reader

Title: Marry Me Fluff No Warning

Asta watched as you were sleeping, you had fell asleep on his lap and for once he was still. You had caught the heart of the 16 year old boy and when ever you were really close to him his heart rate would increase. He thought he had loved Sister Lilly, but that soon left his mind after meeting you. He soon realized it was just a silly crush and he never felt this way about anyone before but you. He gently pushed your hair behind your ear as you slept and you made a face in your sleep. He smiled finding you to be adorable in your sleep, he didn’t notice but several of people was watching him watch you. They never seen Asta look so...in love with someone. You began to stir in your sleep letting out a small yawn, and Asta felt a blush dust his cheeks as he quickly looked out the window hoping he wasn’t caught staring at you.

You woke up rubbing your eyes confused as you looked around. You didn’t remember falling asleep much less falling asleep on Asta. You sat up looking at the clock before looking at everyone before at Asta meeting his green eyes.

“Are you okay (Y/N)?”

“I don’t remember falling asleep... nor falling asleep on you.”

“Yeah you were out the moment you sat on the couch.” Vanessa said, and you rubbed your neck. That’s when it hit you, your older sister was dragging you everywhere around the capital. You slumped back rubbing your eyes before feeling your stomach growl, you blushed slightly and it wasn’t long that Charmy was right in front of you holding up a huge sandwich.

“How did you... you were in the kitchen.”

“I can feel it when someone is hungry. Here try it, it’s delicious~!”

“It’s huge I can’t eat all of that...” You mumbled at the giant sandwich, Asta was eyeing it with stars in his eyes.

“Share it with Asta then~!” She said cutting it in half giving you half and the other half to Asta.

“Oh...kay....” You said before taking a small bite. Everyone watched you two, and you were confused.

“What?” You asked before turning to Asta to see that he was looking at you, you blinked several of times confused before going into a coughing fit at Asta’s question.

“(Y/N) please Marry me.”

“W-What???” You began hitting your chest, and Noelle hit Asta’s head as Finral gave you a glass of water and you began to down the water.

“Owe what was that for?”

“You can’t marry, you are only 16.” Noelle scolded, and Asta pouted before looking at you again.

“Well (Y/N) can say yes to a future marriage~”

“W-What????”

“What?”

“Don’t you want to marry Sister Lilly?” You asked but Asta got close to you sitting on his knees causing you lean away from him.

“I thought I did too, until I saw you. I haven’t felt this way, so I came to the conclusion it was a hopeless crush. But I love you.” Everyone’s eyes widen at the choice of words he had just used, you blushed and he took the bold move and placed his lips on yours. You froze in your seat along with everyone else in the room, Gauche stopped staring at Marie, Gordon was mumbling faster, Gray was a blushing mess covering her face, Vanessa stopped drinking, Finral passed out, Luck was laughing, Magna’s mouth dropped to the floor, Noelle’s eyes widen in shocked, Charmy dropped her cake she was eating, even Yami’s cigarette fell from his lips. NO one expected Asta to make such a bold move, hell no one expected him to say he actually love you and only had a crush before. Asta parted from your lips staring at you hoping you would say something soon, he was a blushing mess and he was shifting on the couch.

“A-Asta...”

“Yes???” He asked, you weren’t sure how to comprehend what just happened. You looked around the room, and that’s when you realized it really just happened.

“I...”

“Yes......”

“Spit it out woman!” Magna yelled, ready to hear what you had to say and everyone agreed except Finral.

“Iloveyoutoo.” You said really fast but Asta was able to pick it up with ease and he smiled widely.

“Really? So you will marry me when I become the Wizard King right!?”

“Uhm... I guess if ever get together and stay together that long.”

“We are getting together today. I declare you as my girlfriend in this very moment.” Asta yelled fist pumping the air. Everyone let out a sigh of relief when you returned his feelings, and he tackled you into a bone crushing hug. He gave your face multiple kisses and you tried to escape but he wouldn’t let go.

“Asta stop, we are in the living room and everyone can see.” You whined, and Asta stopped pulling you away from everyone before giving you another bone crushing hug with multiple kisses. Your face was red from embarrassment but you couldn’t help but smile.

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted etc. I do not own the character, but I own the plots to these stories.

[gumnut-logic]

John Tracy hated taking public transport.

He hated the cramped seats, the invasion of his personal space, the fact the bus stopped every few minutes to pick up more passengers and the noise.

It was stressful, annoying and far too full of people.

But the astrolabs were too far from the dorm to hike it or bike it, so bus it was.

He mapped out the most direct route, left early to avoid the crowds and handled it the best he could. Earphones helped and he never travelled without his tablet and a network connection.

He made do.

He made do for over a year. Every morning and every night.

The work was fascinating and he thoroughly enjoyed it. He considered getting a car, but it wasn’t practical and parking was non-existent, so he stuck with the bus.

Despite the fact he hated it.

Every trip he buried himself in his own world whether it be his work, research, a good book or even a movie. He shut the world out and more importantly anyone who sat next to him.

Sometimes this was not possible.

Because sometimes they spoke to him.

John had been brought up polite. His grandmother would have slapped his wrist if she found out he was ignoring people. So, he always replied. Often concisely, but always watching his manners.

That often opened the floodgates. Because if there was anything common between big cities it was the people who were lost in them, desperately alone in a sea of faces.

John liked being alone to a certain extent, but he was blessed with a close and large family.

Some people had no one.

So, ever so reluctantly, he found himself answering their call for help.

The first was Mrs Bucklin. She was a tiny woman, well dressed, but slightly scented with mothballs as if her clothes hadn’t been out of the closet in a long time.

She sat right beside him and immediately enquired as to what he was doing.

At the time he was coding a new game and her sharp voice startled him enough for his fingers to slip and enter a chain of commands he had not intended. He would have sworn if he was alone, but the program righted itself and the new commands, instead of corrupting and crashing the function, actually appeared to improve it. He frowned and hastily input some bridging structures so the code wouldn’t fragment, idly wondering if the error would improve the game, ruin it, have him need to rewrite the whole section or be the spark that would initiate sentience.

Great, his tablet would rise up and eat him while he was distracted by a random bus passenger.

She did apologise and he did reassure her that it was all okay in the hope she would let him be.

She didn’t.

He learnt she had three cats, a niece in another country (he didn’t gather which because the woman’s pronunciation defied translation), that she had lost her son in the Global Conflict, she liked his hair (that was a first) and that he looked like an intelligent young man.

He acknowledged her quietly and politely as he eyed his code and the results of an initial compile test. How did it do that?

Her cats were named Scottie, Gordy and Allie.

He did blink at that, but didn’t comment.

Eventually, she said goodbye and got off the bus at her stop.

He would have forgotten about her, except she sat next to him the next day and the day after that.

Apparently, this was her route to work, and he was such a polite young man.

Three weeks later she admitted he made her feel safe just by being there. She had been mugged three times in her life and public transport was as much a bane for her as it was for him.

He actively kept an eye out for her after that.

Gus was a different matter.

Gus didn’t have a home and he often rode the bus just for the air conditioning and comfort.

He sat on the other side of the walkway to John. He didn’t say much and would likely have never said anything if it hadn’t been for the gang of boys who decided to throw verbal potshots at him one day.

John had had an all-nighter with exams coming up, so he was cranky. His latest project had stalled – the same game he had been tackling when Mrs Bucklin had startled him. The core of the program had become a little unpredictable and he couldn’t work out why.

So, when a group of teenagers crawled to the back of the bus and started needling a fellow passenger, it was not only a situation where the innocent man appeared to need a bit of a rescue, but it also pissed John off.

There were four of them. Teenagers flocked in groups apparently. He’d never been one for that formation himself, but he knew of them, had encountered them and Virgil had kicked a few of their asses for him.

John was in college now.

He could kick his own fair share of ass quite happily.

“Leave the man alone, or I will call the police.” He raised his voice, but not his head, transmitting all the body language of how beneath his notice they were and how he might respond if they didn’t comply.

“Mind your own business, kook!”

There was always a brave one amongst the group, usually the ringleader, the head dickhead.

At least they were only teenagers.

This time he did look up and put all that communication theory into the coldest stare possible. “Excuse me?”

All four of them froze. Hell, they couldn’t be older than fifteen, somewhere between Gordy and Alan. If either of his brothers acted like this, there were three older brothers who would quite firmly re-educate them on proper conduct.

Not that he thought either of his younger brothers would do such a thing.

In any case, all four of them stared at him wide-eyed. The eldest swore and climbed out of his seat just as the bus pulled up at the next stop. He snarled at John as he stalked past, spitting profanities. His cohorts followed and they climbed off the bus.

It was lovely and quiet after that and John went back to tackling his misbehaving program.

“Thank you, sir.”

John blinked up at the unkempt man who had been the centre of the teenagers’ torment.

A small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Was this variable being changed by the program itself? How the hell could it do that?

He didn’t fail to notice after that incident that Gus, as he introduced himself the next time they met, always sat near John on his rides, morning or evening.

John met other people. Mrs Magarey and her three young children always needed a hand with her pram. John sometimes took advantage of this and stuck the pram in the footwell of the seat next to him so no-one could sit there.

That made Mrs Bucklin sit behind him and whisper her stories in his ear.

He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with that either.

Two other students from his faculty took the same bus as well. Ridley was in the year behind him and always had a friend on the phone. She chattered a lot and he learnt to tune her out.

Well, until the day he boarded the bus and found her crying into her tablet.

She had lost her entire thesis in a computer crash. He was polite. He enquired and she answered, staring up at him as if she had never seen him before. Which was entirely possible. John didn’t like to draw attention to himself.

He accompanied her off the bus that day and delved into her damaged computer. He dug up her thesis and she gushed all over him, even crying into his sweater.

He hugged her awkwardly and wished her all the best.

After that, she always said hello and had a smile for him.

John smiled back, but his program was still not behaving. It acted as if it had a mind of its own and it was very distracting.

Mrs Bucklin said it sounded like cat number two, Gordy. Never behaving, but always loveable.

John stared at her when she said that, and wondered if she knew more than she was letting on.

The day Virgil landed in the seat beside him on the way to the labs startled him enough to drop his tablet.

“Hey, Johnny.”

He fumbled between the seats for the device. “Don’t call me Johnny.”

“Sorry.” But he could tell Virgil was anything but.

His fingers touched the cool metal of his tablet and he scrabbled for it. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a brother drop in on his brother to see how he is doing?”

John eyed him. If it was Scott sitting next to him or Gordon, he might have been suspicious of any double meaning his brother might be communicating. But this was Virgil and although the engineer had a sense of humour that could cut when necessary, this wasn’t his style.

“I guess he can. But why the bus?”

Virgil shrugged. “Didn’t catch you early enough. Barely caught the bus behind you. I thought your classes didn’t start until later.”

“They don’t.”

“Then why are you up so early?”

It was John’s turn to shrug. “Just avoiding the crowds, I guess.”

Virgil eyed him with a slightly worried frown.

“And who is this lovely young man who has taken my seat?”

Oh god.

Virgil stared up at Mrs Bucklin as she bustled in to sit behind them.

An internal sigh. “Mrs Bucklin, this is my brother Virgil.”

“Your brother?” She eyed Virgil as if inspecting him for sale. “Doesn’t look like you at all. Where’s the red hair?”

Virgil arched a dark eyebrow.

“Nevertheless, Mrs Bucklin, Virgil is my older brother.”

“Then how come we haven’t met before? You’ve been travelling this route for a year now and we haven’t seen hide or hair of him.” She continued to glare at Virgil as if he was a threat.

Virgil was shifting in his seat, his expression decidedly wary.

“Virgil has been assisting my father on a project. He’s an engineer. I’m unsure what he is doing here right now.”

“Hmph, well, in my opinion, he should have been here earlier.” She addressed Virgil directly. “Did you know your sweet little brother has been a bastion of this bus route, defending and assisting all?”

What?

John’s head shot up. “Mrs Bucklin-“

“Don’t you go all humble pie on me, young man. I saw what you did to those teenagers and how you help young Mollie every week. That girl is going to work herself into an early grave. And poor Gus, you’ve given him a new reason to try. Did you know he has enrolled himself in a course? Got himself a grant from the government and everything. Got help from that employment assistance group. Not to mention that doe-eyed young student who stares at you with love hearts floating about her head. I don’t know what you did for her, but I have no doubt she would do anything for you if you asked.” She turned back to Virgil, accusation in her eyes. “Why haven’t you been looking after your brother?”

Virgil’s wide eyes darted between John and the older woman.

John had no idea what to say.

“Well?” Mrs Bucklin’s glare was determined.

“Ah-“

“Is this man harassing you?”

John looked up to see Gus looming over Virgil.

You know, the Virgil who lifted weights that weighed more than his brothers on a daily basis.

John frowned. Gus had a new coat on and was looking much healthier than the last time he paid attention. “No, Gus. This is my older brother Virgil.”

And Virgil was subjected to another staring glare. “Doesn’t look like your brother.”

What?!

“I can assure you that he is indeed my caring older brother and he is not neglecting me in any way.”

Gus grunted, still glaring at Virgil. He nodded in John’s direction. “Make sure he eats more. He’s too skinny.”

That started Mrs Bucklin off again. “My goodness, yes. John you do not eat enough. Have you tried any of those recipes I recommended?”

Gus was still eyeing Virgil.

Virgil appeared to be regretting several recent life choices.

“I’m fine, Mrs Bucklin.” He raised his hands. “And both of you, Virgil is not responsible for my wellbeing.”

His tablet beeped. A glance and he found a text message from Ridley. You okay over there?

He looked up and found her at the other end of the bus staring back at him worriedly.

A sigh.

A flick of his fingers. I’m fine.

He turned back to Virgil who was literally cornered, only for his tablet to chime again.

 You free tonight?

Oh, for the love of-

“Guys, Virgil is my big brother. He looks after me. He cares. I’m fine. He’s here for a visit. I don’t know why yet. Stop glaring at him.”

Gus grunted again and wandered off to his seat. He didn’t stop eyeing John’s brother for a second.

Mrs Bucklin let off a slightly miffed sound before leaning back in her seat. “He better. Or I have a mind to bring Scottie with me next time. Or maybe Gordy. To teach him a lesson.”

What the hell?

“No need, Mrs Bucklin. I assure you.”

Virgil was staring at John as if he wasn’t sure what planet he was on.

John sighed.

Yeah, he hated public transport.

It was stressful, annoying and far too full of people.

His tablet pinged again. This time it was the program he was working on. It was claiming it was dawn despite the fact the sun had risen an hour ago. He let out an exasperated hiss.

Virgil was still staring at him.

Damn public transport.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[lakesandquarries]

Baby Shoes - Chapter 5

Bubby has been a doctor at Black Mesa for 20 years, living there for 50. He’s been bouncing around from project to project, working on whatever needs most help. He doesn’t have any opinions on his work or his coworkers or anything like that, preferring to keep to himself.

Then he meets Black Mesa’s newest project.

AKA: Bubby is Benrey’s dad au.

title from “Baby Shoes” by Bad Books.

thank u to my friend gordon for beta reading even after i threatened to steal his blood <3 ilu bitch

AO3 Link

Bubby had forgotten about the tinfoil until he walks into Zeki’s office. She’s ripping it off her desk, a few hairs slipping from her careful bun, and Bubby has to hide his smile behind his hand.

“Did you have something to do with this?” she demands, throwing a ball of tinfoil on the floor. 

“I’ve been with the subject all day. You can check the cameras, if you want.”

“I just might,” Zeki warns. She pulls another sheet off her chair and collapses into it. “So. Where are we moving you? The tube is all ready.”

“B-22,” Bubby says. “Near the break room. The L-shaped one.”

“The storage room?”

“It’s been years since it’s stored anything but dust.”

Zeki frowns, ripping the tinfoil off a pen. “You don’t need to do this, you know.”

“You offered, didn’t you? A real scientist is willing to try new things.”

She grits her teeth. “I’ll get it cleared with -”

“Aren’t you the department head?”

There’s a pause. Bubby doesn’t look away from Zeki, pale blue eyes staring into green. 

“Fine,” she spits. “I’ll ask the cleaning crew to clear it out.”

Bubby smiles. “I’ll start packing my things.”

He turns on his heel, leaving Zeki to her paperwork and her tinfoil covered office.

Dekkard’s back in the breakroom, sat in the corner eating his doritos. “They are stale,” he informs Bubby as he sits down across from him.

“Zeki approved the room.”

Dekkard drops the bag. “She did?”

“Very begrudgingly, I might add. Though I think at least some of her frustration was due to the tinfoil covering every available surface.”

Dekkard beams at him. “Today has truly been a wonderful day.”

“I’ll miss you after she kills you.” Bubby reaches across the table, grabbing one of Dekkard’s doritos. They’re stale, and he doesn’t even like chips, but he hasn’t eaten since this morning. Dekkard nudges the bag closer to Bubby, and before he realizes it, the bag is empty. “Alright, well, I have other work to get back to.”

Dekkard frowns. “I think you mean you have lunch to get back to.”

“I don’t have time for that. I need-”

“To take a break.”

Bubby huffs. “I’m not going to let myself be lectured by someone half my age.”

“I’m not lecturing you! I’m just saying, you seem kinda stressed, and I was thinking of heading over to the cafeteria to get something more substantial. I thought maybe you’d wanna come with.”

“To the cafeteria? Absolutely not.”

“It’s not like there’s somewhere else we can get food,”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Come with me.” He doesn’t wait for Dekkard, standing up and leaving, though the sound of footsteps behind him means Dekkard must be following. “You know, cooking is a kind of science.”

“Is it?”

“I’d say so.” He leads Dekkard out of the Biological Research wing, down a flight of stairs. “And I think someone high up agreed with me, once.” The area they’re in was something, once, but now it’s abandoned. The lights burst years ago, the only illumination left coming from the level above.

“Did you bring me out here to kill me?” Dekkard asks, picking his way through the room. 

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. Here, this way.” It takes Bubby a moment to pry the door open, the hinges stiff from disuse. “I have no idea what this used to be, but. No one ever comes here.”

It was likely a lab of some sort - of course it was, that’s what Black Mesa does - but it was surprisingly easy to turn it into a kitchen. There’s a makeshift stove, no source of fire since Bubby can make that himself but just something to hold the flames. Scales and flasks serve as something like measuring cups, and he’s stolen various blades from around the facilities, along with any else he can get his hands on. It’s messy, but it’s serviceable. 

“I try to keep it decently stocked here, but it can be tricky to find ingredients. But I’m sure you’ll find anything we can make down here leagues better than the garbage they serve in the cafeteria.”

“Did you make this?” Dekkard asks, poking at a burner. “Shit, maybe you really are the Ultimate Lifeform or whatever. This is - I’ll admit it, this is clever.”

“I’m glad someone recognizes my genius.” He crosses the room, over to the makeshift freezer and his stolen microwave. “Do not tell anyone about this, though. I will kill you.”

“Secret’s safe with me.” 

“I don’t have the ingredients for anything too complicated. How do you feel about pasta? I’ve got some frozen pasta sauce I can heat up.”

Dekkard has made his way to the table. It was about to be thrown out when Bubby stole and repaired it all on his own. There’s only two chairs, but they at least are in good shape. “That sounds incredible.” He collapses into a chair, laying his head on the table. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten real food? Everything in the cafeteria tastes like cardboard.”

“I’m familiar,” Bubby says, getting out a pot. He lights the burner with a snap of his fingers, enjoying how Dekkard’s eyebrows raise up into his hairline.

He sits down across from Dekkard as he waits for the water to boil, drumming his fingers on the table. Dekkard keeps staring at the pot, then at Bubby.

“Is something wrong? You’re staring.”

“Have you really been here your whole life?” Dekkard asks. Bubby sighs.

“Yes.”

“You’ve never - I mean you’ve been outside, right?”

“Once or twice.”

“Sorry, that - that’s a rude question, huh?”

“A bit, yes.” The water sounds like it’s bubbling, so Bubby takes it as an excuse to get up. Dekkard remains seated. “Is there a reason you’re asking this?”

“Just thinking about - about Benrey.”

Bubby adds the pasta to the pot, stirring it. “Ah.”

“I’m not gonna try and say I get it, exactly, but I think I’ve got an idea of what’s going on here. And I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, or anything, but -”

“I know what I’m doing, Dekkard.” He doesn’t have to turn to imagine the look on Dekkard’s face, one eyebrow raised and the other flat. “Yes, I’ll admit, I might be...attached. But I’m not an idiot, alright? I’ve heard all the stories.”

“Zeki tell you about Dr. Tipton?”

“She was trying to scare me. I’ve had my fair share of encounters with him. Whatever Benrey did, I’m sure he deserved it.”

Dekkard’s quiet for a moment. When Bubby turns, he’s staring at the pasta, hand resting on his chin. 

“I can see the gears in your brain trying to work,” Bubby says, turning back.

“You think they’re like you.”

“They are like me.” He continues stirring, directing all his focus into the movements of his arm. “They didn’t even have a name. I can’t - I can do something, here. I can’t just sit by and ignore this when I can do something.”

No one ever did anything for him. He’d spent seventeen years in that god forsaken tube before anyone had even considered letting him out, and it was another twelve after that before he was allowed any scrap of freedom. Even now, his autonomy is challenged constantly, by scientists half his age with a fraction of his knowledge.

Benrey doesn’t even have the luxury of being a valued experiment. Based on what Zeki’s said, Benrey’s only kept around because nothing seems to kill them, and they’re interesting to study. 

If Bubby can do something - anything - then he has to. 

“Hey,” Dekkard says. “Uh. I think the pot is on fire.”

“Oh, motherfucker.” Bubby shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath, willing the flames to die down. “I was...distracted.”

“Can’t help but feel like that was my fault.”

“A little.”

“...sorry.”

It’s nothing unsalvageable, at least. The noodles are a bit too soft, but that’s fine. 

He grabs the jar of sauce out of the freezer, heating it in his hands. He can feel Dekkard watching him as he scoops the noodles into bowls, pouring sauce over each serving. The air’s gone tense.

“Sorry,” Dekkard mumbles again as Bubby passes him a fork. He sighs.

“It’s fine. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Look, I might be underqualified, but I’m not stupid. I see how Zeki and all the other guys talk to you. I don’t wanna be like that.”

“I put this area together five years ago,” Bubby says, spinning his noodles around his fork. “You are the first person I’ve ever invited down here.”

“Is this your way of saying we’re friends?”

Bubby purses his lips. “I don’t think I’d go that far.”

Dekkard snorts. “Alright. Acquaintances.”

“Coworkers.”

“Oh, that’s harsh.”

“Shut up and eat your pasta.”

Dekkard does, for once, shut up. He eats like it’s the first meal he’s had in decades, like some kind of rabid animal, and then leans back against his chair.

“That was the best meal I’ve had since I started working here.”

“Well, if you behave, maybe there’ll be more in the future.”

“Can’t believe you’d stoop to bribes.”

It’s...nice, Bubby thinks. Sitting down here, eating and joking with someone. Maybe Dekkard was right when he called them friends.

Still won’t admit it out loud, though. He has some dignity left.

[willow-salix]

Day 2 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0 (Fluffember prompt : sky)

Day 2 of Isolation 2.0 on Tracy Island and...well I'll be honest, it's not been too bad yet. Everyone seems a lot more civilised than they were the first time, maybe because it's not as bad globally as it was back in… March was it? What year is this, do I still have my youth or have they sucked it out of me? 

Anyway, yes, they are better behaved than the first time, I guess because the shock's over with and it's been so long in a kind of half limbo that we're pretty used to it now. They spent the night trying to convince me that they had dragged me from my little witch cave for my benefit rather than theirs, they lie. 

Either way, they are slightly less rowdy, according to Jeff, slightly tidier, according to Grandma but still not at all self sufficient, according to John. 

I'd decided that, as I had little choice in the matter, I'd make the best of it. I strolled into the empty lounge, dropped my three bags on the floor, raised my arms and yelled at the top of my voice, "Honey, I'm home!" 

I don't know what I expected, maybe to be greeted enthusiastically, to have various family members run in from all directions, so happy and grateful to see me, I mean, I was pretty open to any display of affection, truth be told. 

But no, not one of them bothered to come and say hello. 

"I might as well go back home," I grumbled to Scott who had finished the post flight checks of One and ambled in after me. "I even brought snacks and I'm being ignored." 

"Snacks?" his hand was in the bag I indicated by kicking it with my toe before I'd even finished speaking. 

"Well, now I know why I was wanted," I sniffed. "Let me guess, food standards have slipped now that you've all eaten through the meals I left in the freezers last time I was here?" 

"That has nothing to do with why we wanted you," he assured me, flopping down on one of the couches with his pilfered bounty bar. He unwrapped the chocolate and bit into it, humming happily. "You always bring the best chocolate with you."

"Well, I don't like that American stuff you get," I dropped down beside him and stole the other half of the bar. 

"There's nothing wrong with American things," he argued. "Quality products from there."

My eyes slid sideways to look at him. "Dude, are you counting yourself as a quality product?" 

"Maybe," he didn't bother denying it. 

There wasn't much I could say to that really so I shifted the conversation. 

"Where are the other idiots?" 

He shrugged. 

"That's helpful, thanks." I sighed, resting my head back against the sofa. It was weird but this time really did feel so different, almost like it had been inevitable, we were just waiting for it to come.

"I'm not doing all the work this time," I warned him, "like, you guys are gonna have to step up, I refuse to be your maid and run around after you all like I did last time. New lockdown, new rules."

"We don't need a maid," he argued. "Is it so hard to believe that we just want you here so we're all together?" 

I shrugged, still feeling a bit like I'd been both blindsided and guilt tripped into it, not to mention feeling rather damp and itchy from the decontamination chamber Brains has forced me into. I told him that I'd been extra careful, that I'd been following the social distancing, yet he hadn't listened and still insisted that I needed to be blasted. 

"Here's the thing," he poked me to make sure I was listening. "Last time you were here to help us get through it. We were all feeling a bit helpless and frustrated and without you here distracting us and bossing us around, things would have been a lot worse. This time is different, this time it would be you stuck at home, we're still able to go out and do our jobs now, even though we're still getting fewer calls than normal and some countries aren't allowing entry, but because of that, as soon as your lockdown came in you would have been alone for a month."

"I think I could have handled that."

"Do you though, do you really?" 

I glanced at him, not detecting the teasing tone I had been expecting. Could I have handled it? So many people were stuck alone, unable to see their loved ones, their friends and family or to even go to work again. All the little things that make life more bearable and they had been taken away again. I like peace and quiet, but I knew he was right, being locked away, on my own for another month, maybe longer, it wouldn't actually be good for me.

"Admit it, you love us, you'd miss us."

"I admit nothing," but he was right, I would. I hadn't really thought about it, I guess that's what everyone is doing, trying not to think about it all too much but, while the thought of having a month at home, in peace and quiet sounded like a dream, I wouldn't actually want it. 

"You're back!" Alan yelled, cannonballing onto the sofa from parts unknown. 

"I guess so," I conceded, trying not to melt when he squished up beside me and stole the chocolate I'd been eating. 

"Do you mind?" I asked, purely because I felt I had to, not for any real need to tell him off. 

"Nope," he grinned, popping the bounty in his mouth. 

"Wait, that's…coconut," I trailed off as he gagged, looking for somewhere to spit it out. I handed him a tissue from my bag and he gratefully emptied his mouth. 

"This is going to be hell, isn't it?" I asked no one in particular. 

"Probably," Scott agreed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "But at least we'll all be together."

"Joy," I muttered but I did hug him back. 

"Are you going to keep a diary this time, too?" Alan asked, having recovered a bit. 

"I might," I hedged, not telling him that I'd started yesterday. "But I'm not doing it alone this time, you're all going to help me. Deal?" 

"Deal," he agreed. 

Gradually a few more wandered in, mostly to pick through my luggage like the vulture that they are, knowing that this time I had been wise enough to bring the contents of my fridge and half my cupboards with me. 

Gordon yoinked my pringles, Alan took my milkshake, Virgil helped himself to my chocolate chip cookies. 

"Hi," the normally beloved voice said behind me. 

I didn't turn around. "I blame you for the fact that I'm here again, you know that, right?" 

"Yep," John dropped down beside me on the couch, lifting his arm for me to snuggle under. 

"Cuddles will not make up for this betrayal," I warned him, not that it stopped me from taking advantage of it. Any Tracy in a storm and all that, plus this one might be the best, though I am slightly biased. 

"We appreciate your sacrifice," he told me solemnly. "And to show our appreciation, we organised a little something."

"You did?" Did I sound sceptical? I believe I did. 

"We did!" Alan joined in. "We did some research and found that it's traditional to eat baked potatoes and chilli tonight."

"It is?" I frowned, wracking my brains as to what the heck he was talking about. I was also slightly worried about who had done the cooking. 

"Yes," John got up, dragging me to my feet and propelled me towards the windows. He nodded to Virgil, who messaged Brains, saying something I couldn't hear. 

As one, all the other idiots surrounded us, all looking up, heads tipped back expectantly, like baby birds awaiting food. 

"What are we doing?" I asked, completely confused. 

"It's November 5th," Scott answered. "Remember, remember the 5th of November." 

Oooooh. I didn't have time to answer as the first rocket shot up into the air, exploding in a burst of colour and sound, lighting up the dark night sky... 

[eirabach]

Five Minute Fic That Actually Took Two Weeks Don’t @ Me

This is a load of totally ridiculous trash based on bizarre group chat injokes and is my poor ass showing for the lovely @hedwigstalons‘s prompt “Scott being spotted somewhere he absolutely shouldn’t be.” I’m so sorry.

“I swear this isn’t what it looks like.”

“I don’t even know where to begin on what this looks like.”

The warning alarms are still blaring, not one of them had thought to mute them as they'd bolted for the hanger, not when John had flashed into existence as close to panicked as he ever gets and --

He told me everything was fine!

And you believed him?

Thunderbird One had been out to a high rise collapse, Virgil and Gordon too busy with a  seaquake out in the Adriatic to assist, and Scott had been the last back -- but he had been coming back. He’s expected. Just -- not like this.

The red flares of the emergency lighting cast strange shadows on the walls of the hanger, one stranger than the others. It hangs, black against grey, from the -- well. Perhaps on this occasion it truly deserves the name catwalk. Surreptitiously, Alan slips his holocam from his pocket and begins to film. 

John’s hologram looks up, way up. “Well, Scott. You seem to have a situation.”

Far above their heads Scott swings too and fro, hanging from straining arms that look -- rather less impressive than usual clothed in the soft brown of a woman’s fur coat. He kicks out pointlessly in John’s direction with the sharp toes of a pair of patent red boots and sneers, “Eat rocks, Johnny.”

John beams. “Worth it.”

Jeff drags a hand down his face. "I wasn't aware this rescue involved a bordello, son."

"Ha ha.” Scott scowls down at them. “My suit got wrecked, okay? A witness was nice enough to lend me some things."

"So obviously you went for the most restrained options?"

Scott grits his teeth loudly enough that they can hear it from the hanger floor. "Beggars and choosers, Gordon."

Gordon throws his hands up in surrender, but he’s still sniggering as he swears, "Hey, hey no judgement here."

Kayo raises her hand. "Hi, judgement here."

“Butterflies,” Scott hisses, but Kayo is unperturbed, only smiling angelically up at him and noting;

“Stilettos, Scott.”

He grimaces, but clearly decides distraction is the better part of valour.

"Ok we've all had a good laugh at Scott haha so funny, now will someone please get me down?"

Virgil and Jeff exchange a look. Thunderbird One’s gantry is a good fifty feet from the ground, and the hanger floor isn’t exactly what you might call bouncy.

"Sure, sure but uh -- how did you -- ?" Virgil gestures up “Manage it?”

"Told you you needed a rail, bro," Gordon states sagely, his own near miss with gravity perhaps still playing at the back of his mind.

"I don't need a rail okay -- I just," he drops his voice to a mumble. "My heel snapped."

There’s a pause as each of them peer upward yet again, eyes narrowed against the flashing light to note that yep, yep one of the long, sharp heels is dangling, bereft, from the left boot.

“Aw man, I’m sorry,” Gordon commiserates as Alan tries to get a better shot of the forlorn sole. “That’s gonna be a pricey fix.”

“I don’t want to know how you know that, I just want a ladder, Gordon.”

Virgil, always the first to take pity, has moved to drag one of Two’s rescue ladders from their POD. Scott breathes a sigh of relief as Virgil maneuvers it into position, and goes to swing himself down.

“Hold it!”

“What now?”

Scott’s upper body strength is a thing of some repute, although his commitment to leg day has never been quite as good as Virgil’s, but even his shoulders are starting to spasm under the strain. Kayo doesn’t care about any of that though, because, as he’s starting to realise, Kayo is a stone cold bitch.

“You can’t climb down in those,” she says with the sort of vindictive glee that has even Gordon edging away. “You’ll slip.”

“I won’t --”

“The probability of falling is 93.7%,” chirrups Eos, butting in from absolutely nowhere. Scott’s face twists as though he’s bodily holding in a scream. 

“I’ll take those odds!”

“You will not.” Jeff nods at Virgil, and Scott pales.

“No, c’mon Virg --”

“Yes, now just hang tight.”

“What do you think I’m -- oh for --”

Virgil sweeps up the ladder in half moment to grasp Scott by the once-again-flailing legs, and in one swift movement has him tossed over his shoulder in a perfect fireman’s lift and lowers him to the ground with the sort of gentlemanly grace that only serves to turn Scott’s face a brighter, fiercer shade of puce.

“I am going to change,” he spits, staggering away in his uneven footwear. “We will never speak of this again. Never.”

The hanger door clangs shut behind him, and Alan --

Alan presses “Post”.

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

I’ve finished writing this installment offically and eeepppp, I’m excited :) I also figured out where I want to go with this, starting to feel like that each installment is getting pretty formulaic and that another thing I’m excited about. I love Jason and I love setting Halley up during his Robin years BUT I also miss writing Tim and Damian like in my Mother’s Day 3-parter sooooo I’ve made a plan and can’t wait to start writing and posting it! 

Also I’ve never done any requests or stuff like that before, but if there was anything you guys wanted to see happen in this don’t be afraid to ask! 

You’re Taking Up a Fraction of My Mind pt.5

           Jason was hell-bent on proving himself to Dick; he was going to make that prick eat his words and admit that he was wrong about him by the end of the night. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t just some dumb knock-off version of him. Too prove he knew how to get a handle of situations like these, he decided on going with a full frontal assault, landing onto the roof of the bank and rolling safely into a standing position. He saw the sky light, walking to the edge of where the cement roof met the glass and looked in.

           Two-Face stood off directing his goons on where to go, watching as they raided the bank. Goons walked towards the back of the lobby, most likely making their way to the vaults. Robin noted how the alarms weren’t going off already being disabled. He knew that Gordon would probably be sending units this way regardless being tipped off and Batman saying he’d deal with it; someone had to clean up their mess once they were done doing the cop’s jobs. This whole thing started to give Robin a strange feeling. It was too easy almost. Why would Two-Face tip them off like this?  He shrugged it off, preparing himself to break through the glass-

           “Are you stupid?” Nightwing gapped at him, pulling him back by his cape. “Going in alone? Ahead of me? All of them are armed, you’d be gunned down the moment you touched the floor. What were you thinking?” Nightwing let him go, pretty sure he wouldn’t try anything now. He pointed to the ledge of the roof. “We climb down, enter from a window a floor above them and sneak ourselves in, take them by surprise, hopefully not all at once.”

           Nightwing didn’t give him a second to fight him on the plan, shoving him away from the sky light and towards the ledge, out of sight; if any of them below looked up they would’ve clearly seen Robin’s silhouette. Nightwing rolled his eyes as Robin huffed. The boy relented as he followed Nightwing down the building, landing on the fire escape a floor down. Nightwing was able to shimmy the window up with a tool from his belt and slowly lifted it, letting Robin go in first. He slipped in behind him, gently closing the window once his body was inside the office room.

           He took a few steps to get in front of him, moving in the shadows as they crept out of the room and into the hallway. They exited the hallway and were met with a balcony where you could see the lobby area of the bank down below. A man who appeared to be keeping watch of bellow stood a little ways away from them, still oblivious to the two intruders. Nightwing put a finger over his lips, silently telling Robin to stay silent and still as he moved forward.

           On the balls of his heels he crept in the shadows behind the man. When he was behind him, he reached a hand up to cover his mouth, the other arm wrapped around his neck, cutting off his airways. He backed them up away from the railing and back into the shadows of the hallway. Once he was sure the man was out like a light but still breathing, Nightwing carefully laid him to rest against the wall. He grabbed his gun and quickly took it apart so it’d be unusable.  

           He motioned with his hand for Robin to follow him now, speaking softly, “We take the stairs to the vault, take out the ones inside there first, then go to the lobby for the rest.” He signaled to the stairwell that led down to the vaults.

           Robin for once nodded, not talking back or doing his own thing first, following Nightwing as they carefully crept down below. He wanted to protest, but he had no other plan ready to pitch and he was prime in bitterness about the roof. He felt his chest tighten when he followed Nightwing into the next hallway where there had been the stairs to get the vaults; he really hated taking orders from him.

           “Hello boys,” Nightwing smirked when they reached the bottom of the stairs and away from the lobby above. He smirked when the henchman noticed them and jumped. Where all henchman so stupid? Yes, yes they were, Nightwing chuckled to himself, “Let’s dance,” He quipped, causing Robin to pretend to barf.

           Nightwing took the lead, taking his escrima sticks out, letting electricity crackle out from the tips. Jumping in he began his attack, using his weapon to smack against the back of a man’s neck while the other jabbed into another’s stomach. He moved fast, ducking and dodging bullets that flew at him, kicking guns out of hands and swiftly taking out his own set of thugs. He didn’t rely too much on gadgets, using his speed and agility to take down his opponents.

           In the middle of the fight he looked up to check on Robin. He was faring just as well, not as fast as Nightwing but his hits were more brutish, the impact of his fists causing the man he knocked down to spit out a tooth. When the enemy appeared to start to get the jump on him, he’d reach to his utility belt, pulling smoke pellets, slamming them down onto the floor, covering his area of the room in smoke. This gave him the advantage, continuing to let him punch out the men coming after him.

           The boys breathe in heavily once the room was filled with either unconscious or groaning men, the smoke clearing. “They’re not getting up anytime soon,” Robin smirked, fixing his glove.

           “Yeah,” Nightwing jeered, noting what Bruce meant about Jason’s fighting being rough.

           “What did I do now?” Jason could sense the sneer in Dick’s tone, placing his hands on his hips in annoyance. “Seriously, there’s no pleasing you is there?”

           “Don’t you think this is a little overkill?” Nightwing motioned to the men surrounding Jason on the floor. He looked to Jason before making his way towards the stairs, knowing that the gunshots must’ve already alerted everyone on the main floor.

           “I really don’t know why you guys harp so hard on going easy on them. They’re the bad guys.” Jason glared at the back of Dick’s head as he followed.

           “They are the bad guys,” Dick nodded in agreement but his voice was softer as he waited to jump back into action. “But we’re the good guys, so you should start acting like it.”

           With that Dick jumped into the room, cartwheeling right into his first goon of the room. He easily ripped the gun out of his hand, slapping the bag filled with money away as well. He kicked the man away moving to the next. He could hear Harvey shouting for his men to kill the two vigilante’s while he began to make his way to the door, grabbing whatever bags filled with cash he could hold. He looked surprised to see them. He bellowed for his men not already engaged in the fight, ordering them to grab whatever they could and get to the vans but he stopped when he saw flashing blue and red lights flashing from outside the tall glass windows and door of the bank.

           Robin saw this and ran past Nightwing determined to prevent Two-Face from escaping. He took out anyone who stood in his way, bashing in kneecaps and smashing fists into faces. He mowed them down, feeling adrenaline pumping through his veins as he got closer and closer to Two-Face. Taking out a batarang, he threw it, aiming and hitting his target. Two-Face was forced to drop the bag of cash in his hand as the blade of the batarang grazed his hand. He whipped his head around to look at the Robin, both of his faces enraged.

           “Ew, you’re as ugly in person as I thought.” Robin mocked disgust, having never had the pleasure of meeting Harvey Dent yet. “And, I gotta say, this plan was pretty lame; I thought you’d be somewhat smarter. You literally told us where you were going to be. It’s like you wanted to go back to Arkham.”

           “What are you talking about kid?” Two-Face sneered, pointing his gun out to aim at him.

           “The envelope you sent to the police station? You wrote the addresses of where you were going to be. Are you so stupid that you already forgot?” Robin laughed, leaping into the air to avoid the bullet Two-Face sent his way. “Hey, don’t be salty, it’s your own fault you got caught!” He taunted, enjoying the frustrated look on the villain’s face as he rolled out of the way of another shot.

           Harvey yelled out as the kid kept dodging his shots, switching over to his machine gun that rested on a strap around his torso, opening fire. Where did Batman get all these kid’s from? He had no idea what the kid was talking about, “I don’t know what you’re talking about kid,”

           Robin puffed, nearly getting hit this time but jumped behind a counter at the last second. Two-Face’s voice was thick with aggravation as he grunted, hearing his gun click. Empty, he hissed, quickly reaching for his suit for a reload. Robin peeked his head over the counter, hearing his hesitation. He took the chance to jump out from his hiding place just as Nightwing finished taking down the last of the goons. Nightwing saw his mistake before Robin did and wasn’t all that surprised. The boy just kept proving that he was impulsive. He didn’t even bother trying to call out for him to stop instead raced to get to the pair as Robin reached Two-Face.

           Robin kicked the machine gun out of his grasp, the force making him falter and hit the ground. As he was down Robin socked him right in the jaw when his feet touched the ground. Two-Face didn’t stay down for long, pushing himself up, recovering quickly as he pulled a second pistol he had concealed inside his coat pocket. He brought it up to jab into the underside of Robin’s chin, cocking it to let him know he would shot if he moved or try anything. Robin raised his hands up to signal that he wouldn’t, the metal cold against his skin.

           Dent pulled him to his chest, so that they both face Nightwing, the gun now digging into the side of Robin’s head. Nightwing dropped his escrima’s knowing not to test Two-Face. He still remembered one of his first encounters with the villain as Robin. He’d been captured and beaten near to death; Two-Face was unhinged and had no problem hurting kids, especially Batman’s.

           “Now, Nightwing, you’re going to let me walk out of here,” He said, saying his name like it was a joke. He had a no-nonsense tone to his voice as he continued, “Or else I’ll shoot the kid.” He started to back away, making Robin fall back with him.

           Robin opened his mouth to talk, already seeing the look Nightwing shot him to shut the hell up. This kid was a real piece of work, Nightwing noted, his mind rushing to think of a way out of this situation that didn’t end with Robin with a bullet hole in his skull. What he didn’t know was that Robin already had a way out and his mouth was needed for it to work. He had a look of exasperation on his face as he let out a huff.

           “You know, taking me as a hostage is probably the only good idea you’ve had all night-,”

           “Kid, I will shoot you.” Dent hissed, knowing Robins were known for their mouths.

           “Oh, no, I know you will.” Robin nodded, “But I really don’t think that’s a good idea and I swear I’m not saying that to just save my neck.” He continued not biting his tongue. “I just don’t think Batman would try anything funny if you had a hostage, me especially, I’m kinda his favorite now.” He eyed Dick as he let the dig slip out. Feeling spiteful at Dick’s unimpressed and clueless face, another lightbulb lit in his head. “Ha! I’m also the second Robin, and don’t you have some sort of 2 fetish?” Robin moved his taunts back to his captor, feeling the grip the man had on him tightening in anger.

           “You little shi-,” Two-Face started but didn’t get to finish.

           Robin moved quick, using the distracted state against him and heaving him up and over his shoulders. He let out a breath as he flipped him up and onto the floor. Kneeling down in one swift movement to hold down the hand with the pistol and dealing him a hard punch in the face, rendering him unconscious. He throw the gun aside, rubbing his hands together as he saw Two-Face out cold.

           He felt pumped by his take down, almost jumping in place from excitement. He single handedly took down Two-Face, if Batman had only seen that. His self-celebration was cut short as he heard heavy footsteps approaching. It was Nightwing of course and he didn’t look pleased. Please, he’s just jealous he didn’t get to punch Two-Face in the face, Jason smirked, as he got closer.

           “That was incredibly stupid.” Nightwing said, kneeling down to make sure Two-Face was really out. When he was pleased that he was he stood back up, towering over the boy. “What if he pulled the trigger while you were taking him down?”

           “Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Robin laughed, rolling his eyes as Nightwing made a fussy face.

           “That trick might’ve worked on him, but it wouldn’t work on someone like the Bane or Joker, hell, you’re lucky that it even worked on Dent.” Nightwing chastised, as the doors of the bank were flung open, revealing the GCPD; of course they show up once the fighting’s done. Nightwing rolled his eyes, leading Robin out of the building as the cops began handcuffing those inside. “That was pure luck nothing else. Don’t let it get to your head.”

           Robin rolled his own eyes again, sick of Dick’s nagging. Once they were outside they noticed Batman arriving as well, going to talk to Gordon who also just showed up. The pair made their way to the two, seeing Gordon moving away to take a phone call. Batman saw the two boys approaching, giving them a curt nod, silently telling them good work.

           “Dammit,” Gordon’s voice took their attention. He quickly hung up the phone, shooting Batman a pissed off look. “There’s been an incident at Arkham, Harley broke Joker out.”

           Batman’s eyes narrowed at the news, turning to look at the bank. Harvey was being dragged out by officers. He looked back to Gordon before looking to Nightwing. Robin bit his lip, feeling rage take over him. Harvey’s words echoing in his head. He hadn’t sent the envelope to the police and Batman; he’s been set up and they played into it. The Joker must’ve somehow found out about the robbery. He did have his goons set up all over the place, he probably had Harley set some up inside Batman’s Rogue’s ranks.

           Jason wanted to groan, realizing what that would mean. He looked at Dick, as he and Batman began to discuss with Gordon how best to track the Joker down. He had said it first, back at the police station. Dick was right, the Joker did in fact send the envelope.

[thecosmicjackalope]

It’s probably not gonna happen but you know what would be amazing for next episode?

Kiteman leaves without saying anything to Harley or Ivy, who are then left comforting each other about the situation. Both feel like pieces of shit and both are confused about how to move on. Days pass. Weeks pass. As the city rebuilds itself, Kiteman is nowhere to be found and there’s a wall between Harley and Ivy. Everything between them is awkward now because Harley still wants to pursue Ivy but Ivy is riddled with guilt and is still confused about her feelings for Harley and for Kiteman. The crew suffers through the tension, moving between helping them get through their shit and trying to find Kiteman. Ivy wants to find him and so does Harley, but there is still an undercurrent of jealousy from Harley because Ivy’s focused on finding Kiteman and won’t even talk to her about the future and “what happens now.”

During all this, Gotham’s abuzz with gossip about what they have seen and everyone’s taking sides (like how we all are in the comments sections). There’s a good portion of the population that are hounding Harley and Ivy about their “new relationship”, some people are spitting on Harley and calling her a home wrecker (especially Kiteman’s parents, which would kind of be a nice little way to nod at the fact that despite being assholes they do still stand by him), Ivy has people who are talking about how glad they are that she’s dumped “that loser” which fills her with even more guilt, and everyone is laughing about Kiteman, with some wondering about where he is.

The scene shifts and we find Kiteman out of his costume, grounded, without his kite, blending in with everyone around him and succeeding because no one sans Ivy has seen him without his get up. He wanders from place to place, never really going anywhere, sometimes dropping by old spots where he and Ivy had some moments together. He’s not eating, he���s sleeping too much, living like he’s already dead. He walks by a wedding venue and sees the happy couple kiss and look into each other’s eyes lovingly.

He forces himself to look away.

Eventually he wanders into THE PIT or somewhere nearby, feeling low as dirt, lost, confused. He still hasn’t said a line since the episode started. He’s hanging out in the wreckage and the waste, he sees a kite, or perhaps a little harlequin doll, or something that reminds him of what he’s lost. And he snaps, and starts stomping on it and having a breakdown when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to see that it’s Bane. Expecting Bane to attack him or do worse, Kiteman - or, “just Chuck” at this point - welcomes death. Bane refuses. In fact, he sits down with Kiteman and the camera and the audio pans and fades away respectively as they begin to have a long honest talk.

Back in the city of Gotham, Harley and Ivy have one big argument with a lot of their ugliest feelings bubbling up to the surface and bursting out. Very harsh words are exchanged. They separate, leaving behind the crew, lost, confused and hurt that three people they care about are suffering so much. Ivy goes to be alone in a place she loves, maybe an old greenhouse. Harley goes to a carnival or maybe some batting cages to practice her swing. Each of them respectively are confronted by different people who have something to say - Ivy is approached by Catwoman who “had a feeing she’d be at her usual spot” and Harley is confronted by Batgirl and Batman. They all talk.

Batman talks to Harley about relationships and responsibility and knowing what you want and listening to other people, going off of his own failed romances with Talia and Catwoman respectively, possibly even acknowledging a budding relationship with Wonder Woman or Superman (or both, as, in a hilarious twist, their incident with Ivy’s pheromones lead to them questioning their relationships with each other and trying to be a poly throuple). Batman closes the convo off with saying that Harley has to face the music for the people she’s hurt, but also says that he’ll be happy to see her with someone who treats her right and encourages her to listen to her heart. Harley admits that she feel like she doesn’t deserve love and Batgirl argues that yes she does. She thanks Harley for some of her good deeds, and especially for inspiring her to stand up for the person she loves (her dad) and be his hero, the hero that Gotham needed, while Batman was out. And she closes her end of the conversation by telling Harley that no matter what she chooses, she will stand by her decision. Harley smiles and hugs her, and humorously, Batman gets dragged into the hug and hates the whole experience.

In their own space, Catwoman and Ivy talk. Ivy vents to Catwoman about everything that’s gone down and all of her feelings and guilt and confusion about it, and for once, Catwoman listens, without fuss, without sarcasm, without a word at all. When Ivy admits that she thinks it’s over between them and that maybe it was doomed from the start, Catwoman talks about her romance with Batman, how she always expected it to be doomed, caused it to self destruct and how very deeply she regrets that she let him get away and didn’t try to actually fix the problems in their relationship. She admits that she’s lonely and that she lives her life alone and that she enjoys it, but that it doesn’t come without problems. It comes with regrets. It comes with emptiness. It comes with too heavy a price sometimes. And she encourages Ivy, in her own aloof, standoffish way, that if Ivy really feels like she has something special with Kiteman and Harley, she should pursue it. She should be honest with her feelings about both.

So Ivy and Harley run into each other, and they apologize and tell each other what they want. Harley wants Ivy, and also to take responsibility for how she did Kiteman dirty and wants to mend her friendship with him. Ivy admits she loves Harley and Kiteman both and wants to talk to them both to see if they can all pursue something together, namely, if Ivy is romantically with both, and if Kiteman and Harley are okay with that.

But first they have to apologize and take responsibility for what they’ve done.

At that moment, Kiteman enters the doorway. He’s wearing his uniform, he’s got his things. Ivy and Harley are relieved to see him, but somethings wrong. They can tell something is wrong. He walks past Harley like she’s not even there and he talks to Ivy and tells her that he’s leaving Gotham for another city, somewhere where he can start over, somewhere with lots of wind to soar majestically or something or other. Ivy asks him why and he finally finally lets out all his hurt feelings. Without yelling or raising his voice, he calls her out on all her bullshit, stating that if she had just respected and loved him enough to be honest, they could have worked through it. But she didn’t. And to him, that was unforgivable. He says something along the lines of “ive been a joke to everyone around me since the day I was born. But I thought, for once, I found someone who saw me for who and what I really was. A person. When I met you, I finally thought I found my match, my partner in crime who I could spend the rest of my life with, who would be with me no matter what. But I was wrong. In the end.... I was just a joke to you too.”

Ivy is hurt by this and tries to apologize but Kiteman says he’s made up his mind and he just came by for closure and to give her a proper goodbye. Harley tries to apologize, Kiteman ignores her but does tell the others he’s out of the crew and flies off.

He takes one last look behind him, but he doesn’t look at Ivy. He looks at Harley, not with hate, or anger, but bitter disappointment and betrayal. And it’s at this point that Harley truly realizes what she’s done.

Since You’ve Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson, aka Harley and Ivy’s trademark wedding song request, starts playing in the background as a sequence starts to play. Ivy and Harley drift apart. The rest of the crew - Frank, KS, Clayface and Sy - all struggle with the loss of Kiteman. If Harley was the brains of the group, Kiteman was the heart, and without him everything feels colder. Life in Gotham goes on. Villains fight heroes. People rebuild. College kids graduate, and Joker and his new girlfriend witness the kids perform at a school play, with all of his goons in the audience cheering them on. Bane continues helping others. Nora, Jennifer and Catwoman pay their respects to Dr Frieze and leave flowers on his grave before going out to dinner together as friends (and yes, they all have Cobb Squad tattoos on their arms). Riddler still does his riddles but has started teaching a class for cardio at a local gym and is deeply enjoying it. The only job Dr Psycho can get is running and operating a Ferris wheel ride at the local carnival, which, ironically, he’s good at and he actually kind of enjoys, if only because it’s easy money. He watches as a short little girl JUST misses the height test...and uses his powers to alter the sign so she can ride, just so she doesn’t know the crushing disappointment he felt when he was a kid. (Humorously, When she inevitably falls off the Ferris wheel later, he casually catches her with his powers and sets her back down on the ground without even looking up from the porn mag he’s browsing.) Batgirl and Gordon play videogames together until something comes onto the police radio, after which they race to the roof to meet Damien and Batman waiting for them in a jet. Damien shows a flicker of jealousy towards Barbara, but there’s clear implication that the two will form a strong sibling like bond. Batman smiles at Gordon and Gordon smiles at Batman.

Gotham rebuilds. Life goes on.

But in the very last scene, as the song comes to a close, the crew disbands, and Harley and Ivy separate, with heavy hearts and too much baggage between them for anything, even their friendship. King Shark goes back to the ocean, ready to throw himself into his loveless marriage. Clayface leaves for Hollywood, ever hopeful that maybe someday he can become a true thespian. Ivy takes Frank and Harley takes Sy. As Ivy and Frank look on with teary eyes, Harley gets into her car and drives off into the sunset, and leaves Gotham city limits while crying her heart out.

And that’s how the season ends.

[teejaysnow]

Here's a fluffy prompt! Breakfast in bed on a chilly morning :)

Thank you very much a lot - you helped!! <3

(also, this turned out a lot longer than expected...)

Do you want toast with all that cheese?

Isak was not happy. Not with the world, not with the temperature outside (which was way too far below zero for happiness anyway), and not with the landlord who ”wouldn’t be able to fix the heating until tomorrow - sorry, boys”. There was a small space heater noisily blowing warm air towards a very limited area of their combined dining room/living room/bedroom, but the kitchen was a complete no heat area and the floor’s arctic climate laughed in the face of his knitted socks. So no, Isak was not happy.

And who in their right mind had their birthday in February anyway? What was wrong with a nice, clement June birthday when their boyfriend wouldn’t have to freeze his bollocks off while preparing breakfast in bed? Not that Even was expecting breakfast in bed - or breakfast anywhere else for that matter. Even was much too familiar with Isak’s very reluctant acquaintance with mornings and was happy enough to make breakfast for both of them, birthday or not. Which was the reason that Isak had had to get up at fucking arse o’clock in the morning to make the fucking breakfast before his boyfriend woke up and ruined the surprise. (Did I mention that Isak wasn’t happy?)

Isak glared at the scrambled eggs (and yes, Even, he had remembered the spoon of sourcream, thanks), willing them to cook faster so he could finally get back into bed and warm his cold feet on his hot (heh...) boyfriend's toasty warm legs. The breakfast tray was already decked out with a red rose in a small vase, two badly wrapped presents, and two mugs full of wonderfully warm coffee. The toast was toasting along while the scrambled egg scrambled, and Isak was just about to get the small cake - that he’d somehow managed to keep hidden from his annoyingly nosy boyfriend - out of the refrigerator when a hand on his lower back and a chin on his shoulder made him start.

“Breakfast?” Even asked, still sounding half asleep. “Also, fuck, it’s cold!” he added as an afterthought.

Isak hummed in agreement with both those statements - as well as in appreciation of Even sneaking his arms around Isak’s waist, his nose finding its favourite spot just at the junction between Isak’s shoulder and neck.

They were interrupted by the toaster spitting out two more or less unburned pieces of bread and Isak turned around and shoved petulantly at his boyfriend’s chest.

“Move over, arsehole! Why are you awake already, anyway? Except for spoiling your surprise, obviously,” Isak complained.

“The bed was too cold without you,” Even said with a small shrug, grabbing at Isak’s waist and pulling him into a tight back hug. Isak rolled his eyes, the toast burning his fingers as he transferred it onto the tray.

“And you thought it would be warmer in the kitchen? Really?”

“Noooo, but I’d rather be cold with you than warm without you...?” 

Even leaned in over Isak’s shoulder and twisted his head to the side so he could flutter his eyelashes up at him, but Isak only wrinkled his nose and gave Even an unimpressed look.

“And do you perhaps want toast with all that cheese,” he scoffed.

Even kissed him on the cheek and removed the frying pan from the hob.

“Well, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“Oh God, please just go back to bed without saying another word,” Isak begged, turning his head to give Even’s cheek a quick kiss before turning back towards the scrambled eggs and distributing them onto two plates.

“Aww, it’s like you don’t love me anymore.” 

Even sighed mournfully, eyes widening into the expression of an unusually hurt and confused puppy. This time Isak turned his whole body around and leaned his head back so he could look up at Even with heavy-lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry, this was not the way I intended you to find out, but… yes, there is someone else. Sorry.”

Even put a hand to his chest in feigned shock, collapsing - cautiously - against the stove.

“Whaaaaat? Why? What’s he got that I haven’t?” he asked, taking a step back to flex his biceps in a feeble attempt at muscled manliness.

Isak couldn’t keep his grin under control any longer so he leaned over and gave Even another quick kiss, “Well, first of all, he stays in bed when his boyfriend tries to do something nice for him. So… why not be more like him and maybe I’ll grow to love you again? Now, fuck. off. back. to. bed!”

Even grinned back and repaid Isak’s kiss with two hard kisses on the mouth and a third that was originally aimed at Isak’s cheek but hit him in the eye instead.

“What the fuck, you uncoordinated giraffe,” Isak protested as Even quickly scurried off and threw himself headfirst on the bed.

“Sorry, can’t hear you, I’m in bed, sleeping. Waiting for my wonderful boyfriend to bring me breakfast in bed,” came the unrepentant reply and Isak smiled fondly down at the plates of scrambled eggs he was holding.

“Your wonderful boyfriend just has to butter the toast and then he’ll be right there,” Isak promised, fetching the cake from the fridge and stabbing a birthday candle into it, actually buttering the promised toast, and then remembering to grab the bacon slices peacefully degreasing on a paper towel, before carefully carrying the tray towards the bed. 

He was met with loud (and very fake) snores from his boyfriend - who in the short time between leaving the kitchen and Isak’s arrival at the bed had managed to turn himself into a very well wrapped burrito. Isak kneeled on his side of their bed and placed the tray between them before leaning over and kissing Even on the nose.

“Happy birthday, baby. I love you!”

Even opened his eyes and grinned up at Isak before trying to force his expression into something that could, in a good light, be described as shocked. Possibly.

“Oh, you remembered! I have never been so surprised, like, ever!”

“Idiot,” Isak muttered, slowly stroking his index finger down the small part of Even’s cheek that wasn’t covered in duvet. 

“Your idiot,” Even agreed, turning his head so Isak’s finger got better access.

“Mm, yeah,” Isak hummed before abandoning Even’s cheek in favour of burritoing into his own duvet, only sticking out a hand to grab a fork. “Now enjoy your surprise before it gets cold.”

Even quickly unburritoed and sat up to cross leggedly enjoy his meal, duvet loosely wrapped around his shoulders.

“Best breakfast I’ve ever had,” he complimented after a few mouthfuls, happily chewing on a slice of bacon. “How have you managed to get the eggs so moist? That’s Gordon Ramsay quality right there, that is.”

“Old family recipe, you know how it is,” Isak replied with a shrug and a toothy smile. “I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you afterwards.” 

“Still worth it, I think.”

“Well, in that case…” Isak flopped over so he was back on his knees, leaning up towards Even, eyes flitting between Even’s eyes and lips, “The secret is…”

“Yeah?” Even whispered back, licking his lips as his eyes followed Isak’s every movement.

“...a tablespoon of… shit!!”

Isak quickly replaced the coffee cup the right way up and pushed Even’s presents out of the way - the toast not faring quite as well as it met with a swift but wet coffee related death. 

“‘Shit’ is the secret? Really?? I would never have guessed.” Even’s voice sounded muffled as he tried to look like he wasn’t laughing at his irate boyfriend.

“You suck!” Isak informed him on his way back from fetching paper towels to clean up the mess, his temper not helped by the floor still being just on the warmer side of zero degrees.

“Mmhm. Just let me finish breakfast first,” Even agreed, thus significantly improving Isak’s mood.

Dropping the now coffee drenched paper towels on the floor beside the bed, Isak crawled back under his duvet and pushed one of the gifts towards Even.

“Can’t wait, baby. Now go on, open this!”

“Still eating,” Even protested, taking a careful bite of a small piece of still uncaffeinated toast. 

“Don’t care. Open it.”

“Fine.” Even looked around for somewhere to dry his hands but couldn’t find anywhere. Reluctantly he dried them on his pants before reaching for his gift. “What is it?”

“You’re really not up to date with how this whole birthday gift thing works, are you?”

“Open it and find out, huh?

Isak nodded. 

“Open it and find out,” he echoed.

Even fought a losing battle against the tape until Isak impatiently handed him a pair of scissors.

“Jeez, how many tape rolls did you use wrapping this thing?” Even wondered out loud.

“Less complaining, more unwrapping,” Isak huffed back, his fingers trembling like he was itching to help, only relaxing when Even finally uncovered the gift.

“Umm… thanks?” Even gave the bottle of beer a puzzled look. He knew that Isak was fond of beer, but… the enthusiasm that he’d shown over this bottle had been slightly more than Even thought it deserved.

Isak giggled at Even’s bewildered expression.

“It’s a hint for the real gift, okay? Any guesses?”

Isak was more or less bouncing on the bed now and Even quickly moved the tray to the floor before another accident happened.

“Beer tasting?” he hazarded, none too excited with the prospect.

“Beer tasting? Really? That’s what you think I’d get you? Oh, Even...” Isak shook his head in mock disappointment. “I mean, what kind of beer is it? Maybe there could be a clue in that?”

Even looked back at the bottle. London Pride? Not his favourite beer to be honest. Pale ale. Red label. Fuller’s. Nope. Nothing.

Isak sighed, “Good thing you’re pretty, baby... Now open the other one!”

This time Even reached straight for the scissors instead of battling it out with the tape.

“Gin? Do either of us even drink gin?” he mused, even more confused as he eyed his second birthday gift. 

Isak was still basically vibrating with pent up excitement.

“We can give it to Magnus, he drinks anything,” he shrugged. “It’s just another clue for your actual gift, get with the program here.”

“We’re giving my present to Magnus?” Even asked, feeling more confused than ever.

“We are not giving your present to Magnus. We are giving Magnus this bottle of gin because we two have standards when it comes to getting drunk - but the gin is just another fucking clue for your actual gift, okay?!”

“Okay.” Even kept staring at the bottle. Beer and gin. B&G? Well, apart from his boyfriend spending too much money at Vinmonopolet, there wasn’t too much information to be gained from that, was there? London Pride. Beefea… what the... “We’re going to London?” he asked hesitantly and Isak nodded, smile wide enough to almost reach his ears. “Really? We’re going to London?!”

“We’re going to London,” Isak confirmed.

“Really?” Even repeated, excited but not quite daring to believe it yet.

“Yep. London, baby!” 

Apparently Isak’s grin wasn't letting up anytime soon.

“But… how? When? And can we actually afford it?” Even’s brain was multitasking hard, partly already planning what to do in London, partly worrying about the state of their bank account.

Isak let his hand skim down Even’s arm, intertwining their fingers when he reached Even’s hand.

“We can afford it,” he assured him. “As for when… how do you feel about celebrating Pride in London this summer?”

Based on Even’s bright smile, Isak decided he was probably feeling pretty good about it.

“Wow. I’m… this is just… I mean, London!?”

“So what pretentious movie locations have you already decided we’ll have to visit?” Isak asked fondly, pulling at Even’s hand to encourage him to lean over and kiss him.

“Well, we have to visit Notting Hill and take a photo in front of the blue door!”

“‘Have to’, huh? You’re using those words again. I don’t think they mean what you think they mean,” Isak teased him.

“And we have to go to 84 Charing Cross Road, because that’s the most epic non-love love story there is,” Even continued, ignoring him. “And I guess we’ll have to do the 221B Baker Street thing, which… ugh. Oh, and we have to go to Leadenhall Market, and the Harry Potter studio tour, and…”

Isak let go of Even’s hand in favour of pulling at his t-shirt hard enough for Even to topple over into Isak.

“We already have tickets for the Harry Potter thing because I’m the world’s best boyfriend,” he stated, combing back Even’s hair and kissing his forehead. “The rest we’ll just have to fit in where we can.”

Even shoved at Isak and crawled up to lie face to face to him where he’d let himself fall.

“World’s best boyfriend,” he whispered reverently, cupping Isak’s cheek and looking into his eyes for a few long seconds before wetting his lips and leaning in to kiss him.

Isak hummed encouragingly into the kiss, dragging his boyfriend closer so he was half lying on Isak’s chest. They could continue the argument about who had the world’s best boyfriend later anyway - but Isak was pretty sure it was him.

[draconesmundi]

If magic exists, why didn't you give the dragons combustible venom?

Oho that would be too easy! That would be the very logical answer to the problem!

For a longer answer; I love speculative evolution, and to me the process of speculating how dragons can be dragony is best only following processes of real-world biology.

This project over the years has flip-flopped wildly between a full-magic setting and a full-biology setting, and as a personal preference I prefer more and more realistic science in my book - not wholly realistic science, as then the book would say “dragons are based on big snakes, whales, and a subconscious fear of forest fires and thunderstorms and big cats”, which just isn’t as exciting as making dragons flesh and blood.

In one version, dragon fire was magic, and in my main document I copy-pasted some sections from this older version thinking they were perfect, and then read through the chapters and was like “eh??? dragons using fire to keep warm??? but it’s just venom???” and then had to rewrite chunks (I am on my 8th rewrite atm).

So the first part of my long answer is realistic biology is fun. In my fully-biologically plausible version I also had dragons not flying, only gliding, and the dragons were very small and lightweight, but I felt this lacked some oomf, and that was when I added the ‘dragons fly via magic’, and having that allowed my dragons to slip into place. Fire... didn’t seem as fun. Once an animal can make real, actual fire, many questions arise.

First question: how does it protect itself from burns? How fire proof are most natural materials? One obvious answer is that the dragon spits the venom, and there is a short delay of the venom traveling through the air before it ignites, saving the dragon’s flesh from being burned.

Second question: how does actually breathing fire effect the ecology of the dragon? Would they actively start a forest fire to smoke out a plethora of prey? One of the WORST theories I heard for this is dragons can only eat cooked and burned food - this is how the dragons in Game of Thrones work according to G R R Martin (I am not a fan of his worldbuilding - however, there is evidence that these dragons are not natural creatures, and were bred by fire priests from wild wyverns, which could explain the frankly bizarre need for cooked meat - human-designed animals in a fantasy setting might have human-like dietary requirements)

The most badass explanation for why a dragon might breathe fire would be for doing battles and fighting; after all, many animals evolve elaborate horns for the same purpose. There is also just ‘hunting is easier when you are a flamethrower’ but then this makes one ask: is hunting too easy? What if all dragons could kill prey with a breath, then all of them survive to breeding age, and they all make little dragon babies and the world is bathed in flame and adorable dragons? How does an ecosystem survive dragons?

Then if you decide “dragons can’t breathe fire all the time, only sparingly” then why do they do it? This will save the ecosystem in your dragon world, but doesn’t fully explain why a dragon would evolve such a powerful tool - unless of course it’s to do with sexual selection. Most of the weirdest things in biology evolve as a means of mate selection - why does this animal need fancy feathers? Antlers which grow and fall off every year? Inflatable eye stalks? It’s for looking attractive. Healthy and attractive dragons can sustain a long jet of flame in a mating display, hubba hubba!

However, those questions come from overthinking things. If I wasn’t so worried about fully justifying dragon fire as a necessary tool, I could enjoy many more firebreathing dragons. Many other speculative evolution projects have dragons with flammable venom, and these are explained perfectly, and the dragons either seem fully integrated into their ecosystem or just magical enough that it doesn’t matter, because A Rare And Majestic Fire Dragon Is Too Noble And Wonderful To Burn Every Prey Item To Ash.

Some dragon fire-breathing theories I see in fiction:

Dragonology by Dugald Steer: where some dragons produce flammable venom, and ignite it using rocks in the ‘spark pouch’ - a fleshy mouth pouch for storing flints the dragons find. Dragon scales are naturally fireproof (this doesn’t need to be fully justified with biochemistry as the book is set in the 19th century, meaning dragon science was a new field)

Dracopedia by William O’Connor: dragons spit venom away from their faces and it ignites in the air

An earlier idea of mine for a different story: dragons produce venom containing phosphorous which ignites in the air (the biochemistry was not fully thought out)

A Flight of Dragons by Peter Dickinson: no venom, but hydrogen gas! This also helps the dragons fly - an earlier draft of one of my books had this, but I quickly dropped it when I realised someone else had the same idea but it was better thought out - there was a film based on this book and based on the book The George and the Dragon by Gordon R Dickson, here’s a clip where they explain both dragon fire and flight:

Dragonriders of Pern by Anne McCaffrey: dragons chew phosphorous rock, which reacts with stomach acid in a special secondary stomach specifically for breathing fire - the acid and the rock make a gas, this gas ignites with the air.

So for my dragons I wanted the fire to be different from the fire of other fictional dragons - I loved these other ideas, but I didn’t want to copy them. I could have said “fire is magical” but I had my heart set on “fire is biologically plausible”. It had my heart set on that. So I made my dragon venom as glowing spit because it looked cool.

So my 4 main resons for keeping my dragon fire sciencey:

I like the fun challenge of speculative evolution and biology.

Magic fire is loaded with implications of an ecosystem as a whole - in real life we have no fire-breathing animals to watch to double check how this would go down, but we do have very venomous animals.

I didn’t want to copy other people’s “venom/gas ignites in the air” ideas

I think my idea looks cool

And a bonus 5th reason on why my dragons don’t have biologically plausible actual flame production is that biochemistry is not my strong suit (which is why one draft had just regular magic fire, so I could avoid biochem).

(the biochem for the glowing spit involves stealing the cytotoxins from puff adders and just imagining a new luciferin protein for the dragons; job done.)

[thegreenfairy13]

No Country For Heroes (Part 4)

Originally a drabble written for the prompt ‘beg’ by @justsimplymeagain ,this escalated into a full story. You can read it here on Ao3.

Plot: The GCPD turns Jim Gordon in for their protection. Set during the No Man’s Land story arch.

The first thing Jim notes when he wakes is the sunlight warming his face. He yawns as he stretches his legs, reveling in the feeling of smooth linen caressing his skin. Closing his eyes once more, he hugs his pillow tightly and decides to stay in bed for another five minutes. He sighs a deep breath of relief when inhaling Lee’s warm, clean scent.

It had been nothing but a dream - all of it: the destruction of the bridges, their separation, the loss of their child, Galavan, Blackgate. None of that was real.

Jim rolls over, pulls the blanket over his head, and closes his eyes. It feels good being at home again. Reaching out, he searches for his bedmate. With more than just slight disappointment he has to find out the other half of the bed is cold and empty. It gives him the motivation though to get up, brush his teeth, and get dressed.

Once he’s ready, he pads into the kitchen, still tired and groggy. That’s nothing a good cup of coffee won’t fix though.

He finds Lee there, as expected, a bright smile plastered all over her face. Jim stares at her, awed. Sometimes, he forgets how utterly, stunningly beautiful she is. She is a woman rivaled solely by mythological figures like Helen of Troy or the goddess Aphrodite - and she’s all his.

Smiling, he presses a light kiss against her lips, wondering what he did to deserve such luck.

Lee’s smile widens in response until her features are nothing but stretched lips and two rows of perfect teeth. It’s a smile that splits her face in half.

“Our daughter has been asleep since you went away,” she informs him, the grin still frozen on her face. Turning around, she takes a cup from the cabinet and starts preparing coffee. “I thought you could watch over her this weekend.”

Jim frowns. Aren’t they supposed to spend the weekend together? Before he can protest though, he hears the cry of a baby.

“Ohhhhh,” Lee coos, dropping the mug carelessly to the ground. Scalding hot liquid pours all over the floor, wetting Jim’s socks instantly. He yelps when coming into contact with the substance but Lee merely pushes him away.

The next thing Jim witnesses is Lee dragging in a white crib, singing merrily while doing so.

All around the cobbler's house,

The monkey chased the people.

And after them in double haste,

Pop! Goes the weasel.

She laughs out loud. Spinning on her heel, she turns back to Jim, eyes staring unnaturally wide, and exclaims, “The monkey chased the weasel!” Clapping her hands, she bends down to the crib, and that’s when Jim realizes it’s not a crib.

Suppressing a shocked gasp, Jim lunges forward, tries pulling Lee away from the white thing. He opens his mouth, wants to scream, but the only thing that comes out is a shuddering breath.

Lee steps aside, revealing a tiny coffin with exceptionally delicate carvings. She opens the lid, humming a soothing tune, and picks up a little baby wrapped in blankets made from silk and lace.

“You’re awake!” she states, delighted. Cradling the baby lovingly in her arms, she starts walking up to Jim. “You’re only ever awake when daddy is home,” she murmurs, joy written all over her features.

A cold shiver runs down Jim’s spine when she presents him the child expectantly. Tilting her head to the side, she studies the detective. “That’s our daughter, Jim,” she informs him. “You should at least hold her.”

And there’s that smile again, an expression that doesn’t seem to come from this world but from a place far beyond, a spot much darker than Gotham on her worst day.

Swallowing heavily, Jim raises his hands hesitantly. Lee is right, that is his child, he shouldn’t be afraid to touch her, hold her, love her, right?

The creature in Lee’s arms suddenly screams. It’s a high-pitched whine, a bloodcurdling howl, yet Jim soldiers on, takes the baby from her hands, and glances down at its little head, partially obscured from view by the blanket.

Jim makes out grey, sunken skin where rosy, chubby cheeks are supposed to be. His daughter screams again, louder this time, and her father wants nothing more than drop her to the ground, run from the room, and never stop again. He doesn’t.

The skin around her mouth breaks, torn open by the force of her pain as an undefinable black liquid oozes out.

“She’s hungry!” Lee squeals and Jim can’t take it any more. Pushing the baby back into her hands, he runs for the door, starts hammering against the wood with his fists when it won’t open.

“But you can’t leave again!” she calls after him. “You promised, Jim. You promised,” she repeats accusingly.

Looking over his shoulder, he finds Lee still standing there, the child pressed to her heart.

“Let me go!” he screeches, frantically rattling at the doorknob while his daughter’s screams become an unbearable crescendo.

“But she’s hungry!” Lee snaps back.

When Jim blinks, he’s seated at a table, and Jim thinks he’s definitely not supposed to be here. The entire room practically reeks money. He can make out hideous china, dark, polished wood, glasses so delicate he’s afraid to even touch them, and then there’s Lee.

She’s sitting at the head of the table, Mario Falcone standing firmly behind her, the unearthly child now resting in her lap. When he leans over, she entwines her fingers with his, whispers something into his ear, and they both laugh at a joke only they are privy to. Blood is trickling down Mario’s face, a seemingly never-ending stream of red soaking the collar of his shirt. Lee touches his cheek, picks up some of the sticky liquid.

Pushing a bloody finger into their daughter’s mouth, she finally silences her desperate screams.

“Your daughter wants to eat,” she informs a horrified Jim.

“That’s not our daughter,” he chokes out, unable to take his eyes off the creature. The moment he speaks those words, he knows they are untrue. Whatever it is Lee is holding, he knows for a fact he created it - one way or another.

Lee shakes her head. “I pity you,” she spits.

Mario opens his mouth, wants to say something but all he manages to create is a gurgling sound. Pulling the curtains in the dining-room back, he reveals Gotham’s skyline, engulfed in flames.

“Why did you never came back?” Lee presses, yelping in pain when the child bites down on her finger, greedy for the blood she has to offer. “She’s just like you,” she mumbles in disgust.

Jumping from his seat, Jim stumbles, falls to the ground, and watches as the flames burst through the window.

“You did this!” Lee shouts, as the fire eats her alive, their daughter still screeching even when she’s slowly turning into nothing but a pile of dust.

Jim storms over, reaching for the curtains he tries putting the flames out, but Mario is faster. He snatches the cloth and throws it into the inferno.

“Where’s the lie though?” he laughs as he joins Lee and Jim’s child.

Jim Gordon wakes with a scream. Thrashing around and sweating profusely, he tries to gain back control over his body. Everything aches. He can still feel the heat, the fire burning his skin, baking him alive, he even smells the scent of scorched flesh, the sickeningly sweet odor of blood.

Pulling at the bindings holding his arms in place, he exhausts himself. He can feel a metal ring around his head, pressing down on him like a vice - he wants it gone.

Jim screams until he’s hoarse, and then he screams on. He’s not sure he can ever forget the picture of his family, the family he never had but always wanted, going down in flames.

“Jim!”

“Jim!”

“Jim!”

A familiar voice permeates the spell he’s under, breaks through the terror, slowly drawing him back to reality. There’s a hand on his chin, turning his chin despite the clamp holding it in place. It hurts. Jim likes this pain, it grounds him

The Penguin’s face, Oswald’s, swims into his vision. Voice trembling slightly he asks, “are you with me?”

“Lee…” the detective mutters, confused.

“She’s fi..” he starts. Biting his tongue, he takes a step back. “She’s not here,” he informs him instead coldly.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Jim tries to make sense of what happened. He stares down at his hands, tied securely to a chair, his legs bound in the same fashion, takes in grey walls, a tiny window up the ceiling in one corner, a projector. He must be in a basement.

He searches the mobster’s face, opens his mouth. “It wasn’t real,” he mumbles, relieved. Jim wants to cry. If he could, he’d roll up in a corner and hug his middle tightly.

“Oh, it wasn’t?” Oswald asks back, forcing Jim to direct his attention back at him.

The mobster leans down, boring his eyes practically into Jim’s. “I never met a man living in such luscious denial as you,” he laughs. “I saw what you saw,” he taunts, pointing at the projector with gleeful sadism.

“I merely saw what you wanted me to see,” the cop argues, doubt already creeping into his voice. He bites his lip. Did Oswald know about his daughter? How did he find out? Neither Lee nor he went around spreading the news. And when he’d been locked up in Blackgate, Lee moved away, escaped Gotham, if only temporarily. Yet it hadn’t been a secret...had it?

Glancing up at the gangster, Jim finds compassion in his posture. Head tilted slightly to the side, he kneels before Jim, one hand covering the shackle. He strokes his thumb lightly as he starts loosening the bindings.

“You never think much about your actions, do you?” he inquires softly.

Jim doesn’t want to answer him. The man kidnapped him, tied him to a chair, did whatever to his head.

“You want to keep an entire city safe and can’t even protect your unborn,” Oswald presses as Jim’s left hand is finally freed. The statement cuts deeper than Jim wants to admit.

“I did keep the city safe,” he shoots back haughtily.

“So?” Oswald asks, bemused. “What did you really achieve?” he inquires curiously.

The cop opens his mouth, tries coming up with a reply, and fails. Back then, he didn’t achieve much, they both know it. All he managed was getting arrested for murder; him going to Blackgate killed his daughter.

The criminal squeezes his leg slightly and Jim finds himself relaxing into the touch. He stares down at the man in front of him, face open and honest. The cop swallows audibly. He wants to accuse Oswald, tell him this only happened because they killed Galavan together, because they needed to protect Gotham from a great terror.

He can’t find it in him to blame Oswald. It had been his own choice to drove out to harbor with the criminal that night.

That night, he crossed the line. He stopped being a cop and turned into a gangster himself. And then he continued making a mess of things.

And ever since, he paid dearly for his mistake. Would things have turned out differently had he just confessed to Barnes?

Oswald’s lower lip quivers, he looks vulnerable down on the concrete. It’s a crazy thought - he’s the one still partially tied to a chair.

“I just want you to know, if I could have, I would have done everything in my power to prevent all this,” Oswald informs him. Oddly enough, Jim believes him.

He saw him with the little kid, Martin, knows how grateful he was after that night.

Pushing a hand through his hair, Jim shakes off those thoughts. The past is gone, he can’t change it, and neither can the Penguin.

“What are you trying to prove with your little mind-games?” he asks instead gruffly. Jim hates how his voice trembles. He didn’t dare thinking about his daughter in years, and now the Penguin is practically forcing the memory from his head. He wants to be enraged, indignant about this assault. He simply accepts it.

Shaking his head solemnly, Oswald takes the metal-helmet from Jim’s head. The pain shooting through his skull once the distraction from the pressure is gone, is excruciating. Unable to hold back the tears any longer, Jim starts to sob. It’s just the pain, he tells himself. Nothing he saw was real. He wants to bury the memories again, push them back into the deep pit where they belong.

But it’s true - he left Lee when she needed him the most, unable to stay away from the siren-call that is blood and violence, the monkey chasing the people.

The criminal doesn’t answer Jim, not even as he gets up silently.

“You had no right dissecting my memory,” he tries again, pushing for a reaction.

The Penguin merely picks at his finger-nails, lost in his own thoughts. “I knew you had lost something very precious, too,” he shares instead. “I just didn’t know how precious indeed,” he sighs. He tries to solemn but Jim picks up on his eagerness and it alarms him.

“That was a long time ago,” he brushes him off. It’s a lie, and they both know it.

“It was the first thing on your subconscious,” Oswald states cooly. He brushes a strand of blonde hair back as he presses a sweet kiss against Jim’s forehead. “You and I will dissect your greatest failures, explore your greatest desires. And in the end, you’ll find I never was your enemy.”

It sounds like a promise of absolution.

Oswald is right in a sense, Jim never dwelled too much on his actions, simply kept running when the pain became unbearable, turned to booze when not even that could help. He wishes he could numb the pain in his arms, legs, and head right now with some whiskey.

Raising his head slightly, Jim chases the feeling of Oswald’s lips against his skin. A twisted part of him is grateful the mobster found out about his daughter and unlike Lee, doesn’t judge him, offers some comfort. Until now, he didn’t know how desperately he needed this kind of forgiveness.

“I always wanted a family,” he blurts out, gripping the armrest tightly.

The Penguin nods as he fastens the bindings anew.

[gumnut-logic]

John hated taking public transport

For @onereyofstarlight​ because she asked for Claret: Talk about a memorable experience on public transport.

As for me...

I’m with Johnny on this one. I needs my space :D

I hope you enjoy this. Younger!Tracys :D

-o-o-o-

John Tracy hated taking public transport.

He hated the cramped seats, the invasion of his personal space, the fact the bus stopped every few minutes to pick up more passengers and the noise.

It was stressful, annoying and far too full of people.

But the astrolabs were too far from the dorm to hike it or bike it, so bus it was.

He mapped out the most direct route, left early to avoid the crowds and handled it the best he could. Earphones helped and he never travelled without his tablet and a network connection.

He made do.

He made do for over a year. Every morning and every night.

The work was fascinating and he thoroughly enjoyed it. He considered getting a car, but it wasn’t practical and parking was non-existent, so he stuck with the bus.

Despite the fact he hated it.

Every trip he buried himself in his own world whether it be his work, research, a good book or even a movie. He shut the world out and more importantly anyone who sat next to him.

Sometimes this was not possible.

Because sometimes they spoke to him.

John had been brought up polite. His grandmother would have slapped his wrist if she found out he was ignoring people. So, he always replied. Often concisely, but always watching his manners.

That often opened the floodgates. Because if there was anything common between big cities it was the people who were lost in them, desperately alone in a sea of faces.

John liked being alone to a certain extent, but he was blessed with a close and large family.

Some people had no one.

So, ever so reluctantly, he found himself answering their call for help.

The first was Mrs Bucklin. She was a tiny woman, well dressed, but slightly scented with mothballs as if her clothes hadn’t been out of the closet in a long time.

She sat right beside him and immediately enquired as to what he was doing.

At the time he was coding a new game and her sharp voice startled him enough for his fingers to slip and enter a chain of commands he had not intended. He would have sworn if he was alone, but the program righted itself and the new commands, instead of corrupting and crashing the function, actually appeared to improve it. He frowned and hastily input some bridging structures so the code wouldn’t fragment, idly wondering if the error would improve the game, ruin it, have him need to rewrite the whole section or be the spark that would initiate sentience.

Great, his tablet would rise up and eat him while he was distracted by a random bus passenger.

She did apologise and he did reassure her that it was all okay in the hope she would let him be.

She didn’t.

He learnt she had three cats, a niece in another country (he didn’t gather which because the woman’s pronunciation defied translation), that she had lost her son in the Global Conflict, she liked his hair (that was a first) and that he looked like an intelligent young man.

He acknowledged her quietly and politely as he eyed his code and the results of an initial compile test. How did it do that?

Her cats were named Scottie, Gordy and Allie.

He did blink at that, but didn’t comment.

Eventually, she said goodbye and got off the bus at her stop.

He would have forgotten about her, except she sat next to him the next day and the day after that.

Apparently, this was her route to work, and he was such a polite young man.

Three weeks later she admitted he made her feel safe just by being there. She had been mugged three times in her life and public transport was as much a bane for her as it was for him.

He actively kept an eye out for her after that.

Gus was a different matter.

Gus didn’t have a home and he often rode the bus just for the air conditioning and comfort.

He sat on the other side of the walkway to John. He didn’t say much and would likely have never said anything if it hadn’t been for the gang of boys who decided to throw verbal potshots at him one day.

John had had an all-nighter with exams coming up, so he was cranky. His latest project had stalled – the same game he had been tackling when Mrs Bucklin had startled him. The core of the program had become a little unpredictable and he couldn’t work out why.

So, when a group of teenagers crawled to the back of the bus and started needling a fellow passenger, it was not only a situation where the innocent man appeared to need a bit of a rescue, but it also pissed John off.

There were four of them. Teenagers flocked in groups apparently. He’d never been one for that formation himself, but he knew of them, had encountered them and Virgil had kicked a few of their asses for him.

John was in college now.

He could kick his own fair share of ass quite happily.

“Leave the man alone, or I will call the police.” He raised his voice, but not his head, transmitting all the body language of how beneath his notice they were and how he might respond if they didn’t comply.

“Mind your own business, kook!”

There was always a brave one amongst the group, usually the ringleader, the head dickhead.

At least they were only teenagers.

This time he did look up and put all that communication theory into the coldest stare possible. “Excuse me?”

All four of them froze. Hell, they couldn’t be older than fifteen, somewhere between Gordy and Alan. If either of his brothers acted like this, there were three older brothers who would quite firmly re-educate them on proper conduct.

Not that he thought either of his younger brothers would do such a thing.

In any case, all four of them stared at him wide-eyed. The eldest swore and climbed out of his seat just as the bus pulled up at the next stop. He snarled at John as he stalked past, spitting profanities. His cohorts followed and they climbed off the bus.

It was lovely and quiet after that and John went back to tackling his misbehaving program.

“Thank you, sir.”

John blinked up at the unkempt man who had been the centre of the teenagers’ torment.

A small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Was this variable being changed by the program itself? How the hell could it do that?

He didn’t fail to notice after that incident that Gus, as he introduced himself the next time they met, always sat near John on his rides, morning or evening.

John met other people. Mrs Magarey and her three young children always needed a hand with her pram. John sometimes took advantage of this and stuck the pram in the footwell of the seat next to him so no-one could sit there.

That made Mrs Bucklin sit behind him and whisper her stories in his ear.

He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with that either.

Two other students from his faculty took the same bus as well. Ridley was in the year behind him and always had a friend on the phone. She chattered a lot and he learnt to tune her out.

Well, until the day he boarded the bus and found her crying into her tablet.

She had lost her entire thesis in a computer crash. He was polite. He enquired and she answered, staring up at him as if she had never seen him before. Which was entirely possible. John didn’t like to draw attention to himself.

He accompanied her off the bus that day and delved into her damaged computer. He dug up her thesis and she gushed all over him, even crying into his sweater.

He hugged her awkwardly and wished her all the best.

After that, she always said hello and had a smile for him.

John smiled back, but his program was still not behaving. It acted as if it had a mind of its own and it was very distracting.

Mrs Bucklin said it sounded like cat number two, Gordy. Never behaving, but always loveable.

John stared at her when she said that, and wondered if she knew more than she was letting on.

The day Virgil landed in the seat beside him on the way to the labs startled him enough to drop his tablet.

“Hey, Johnny.”

He fumbled between the seats for the device. “Don’t call me Johnny.”

“Sorry.” But he could tell Virgil was anything but.

His fingers touched the cool metal of his tablet and he scrabbled for it. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a brother drop in on his brother to see how he is doing?”

John eyed him. If it was Scott sitting next to him or Gordon, he might have been suspicious of any double meaning his brother might be communicating. But this was Virgil and although the engineer had a sense of humour that could cut when necessary, this wasn’t his style.

“I guess he can. But why the bus?”

Virgil shrugged. “Didn’t catch you early enough. Barely caught the bus behind you. I thought your classes didn’t start until later.”

“They don’t.”

“Then why are you up so early?”

It was John’s turn to shrug. “Just avoiding the crowds, I guess.”

Virgil eyed him with a slightly worried frown.

“And who is this lovely young man who has taken my seat?”

Oh god.

Virgil stared up at Mrs Bucklin as she bustled in to sit behind them.

An internal sigh. “Mrs Bucklin, this is my brother Virgil.”

“Your brother?” She eyed Virgil as if inspecting him for sale. “Doesn’t look like you at all. Where’s the red hair?”

Virgil arched a dark eyebrow.

“Nevertheless, Mrs Bucklin, Virgil is my older brother.”

“Then how come we haven’t met before? You’ve been travelling this route for a year now and we haven’t seen hide or hair of him.” She continued to glare at Virgil as if he was a threat.

Virgil was shifting in his seat, his expression decidedly wary.

“Virgil has been assisting my father on a project. He’s an engineer. I’m unsure what he is doing here right now.”

“Hmph, well, in my opinion, he should have been here earlier.” She addressed Virgil directly. “Did you know your sweet little brother has been a bastion of this bus route, defending and assisting all?”

What?

John’s head shot up. “Mrs Bucklin-“

“Don’t you go all humble pie on me, young man. I saw what you did to those teenagers and how you help young Mollie every week. That girl is going to work herself into an early grave. And poor Gus, you’ve given him a new reason to try. Did you know he has enrolled himself in a course? Got himself a grant from the government and everything. Got help from that employment assistance group. Not to mention that doe-eyed young student who stares at you with love hearts floating about her head. I don’t know what you did for her, but I have no doubt she would do anything for you if you asked.” She turned back to Virgil, accusation in her eyes. “Why haven’t you been looking after your brother?”

Virgil’s wide eyes darted between John and the older woman.

John had no idea what to say.

“Well?” Mrs Bucklin’s glare was determined.

“Ah-“

“Is this man harassing you?”

John looked up to see Gus looming over Virgil.

You know, the Virgil who lifted weights that weighed more than his brothers on a daily basis.

John frowned. Gus had a new coat on and was looking much healthier than the last time he paid attention. “No, Gus. This is my older brother Virgil.”

And Virgil was subjected to another staring glare. “Doesn’t look like your brother.”

What?!

“I can assure you that he is indeed my caring older brother and he is not neglecting me in any way.”

Gus grunted, still glaring at Virgil. He nodded in John’s direction. “Make sure he eats more. He’s too skinny.”

That started Mrs Bucklin off again. “My goodness, yes. John you do not eat enough. Have you tried any of those recipes I recommended?”

Gus was still eyeing Virgil.

Virgil appeared to be regretting several recent life choices.

“I’m fine, Mrs Bucklin.” He raised his hands. “And both of you, Virgil is not responsible for my wellbeing.”

His tablet beeped. A glance and he found a text message from Ridley. You okay over there?

He looked up and found her at the other end of the bus staring back at him worriedly.

A sigh.

A flick of his fingers. I’m fine.

He turned back to Virgil who was literally cornered, only for his tablet to chime again.

You free tonight?

Oh, for the love of-

“Guys, Virgil is my big brother. He looks after me. He cares. I’m fine. He’s here for a visit. I don’t know why yet. Stop glaring at him.”

Gus grunted again and wandered off to his seat. He didn’t stop eyeing John’s brother for a second.

Mrs Bucklin let off a slightly miffed sound before leaning back in her seat. “He better. Or I have a mind to bring Scottie with me next time. Or maybe Gordy. To teach him a lesson.”

What the hell?

“No need, Mrs Bucklin. I assure you.”

Virgil was staring at John as if he wasn’t sure what planet he was on.

John sighed.

Yeah, he hated public transport.

It was stressful, annoying and far too full of people.

His tablet pinged again. This time it was the program he was working on. It was claiming it was dawn despite the fact the sun had risen an hour ago. He let out an exasperated hiss.

Virgil was still staring at him.

Damn public transport.

-o-o-o-

FIN.