#he's terrified of what might happen but he's also terrified to bring it up because what if that drives a wedge in their relationship

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to someone flirting with their s/o + jealousness

I'll be honest, I had like four headcanons on jealousy (and five on pregnancy, curse on you and your baby fever), so making this headcanon became a priority. Plus, I tried to make it a bit longer. As usual, under the "read more" line, you'll find both my other project for Arcane (a series of vintage-style posters) and my other socials in case you want to follow me because you love me too much.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky |

poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster 1| | Silco poster 2| |Silco poster 3| | Steb poster |

Jayce:

- He’s not the type to cause a scene, nor is he the aggressive kind.  

- When someone flirts with you in front of him for the first time, he’s confused for a few seconds.  

- The problem begins when the thought starts settling, stagnating, thickening like sediment at the bottom of a bottle. Was the person really hitting on you, or is he just being paranoid?  

- Did they not realize you were together? Or did they do it on purpose?  

- It doesn’t take long for him to start ignoring you, not even on purpose—he suddenly forgets he’s a scientist, a successful adult man, and spirals into a crisis.  

- What if he’s not enough? What if that person realized before him that he wasn’t suited for you?  

- You notice something’s off, but he doesn’t say a word. If it happens again, his fists clench, he feels like the world is collapsing on him, and if it persists, he leaves without even thinking.  

- He doesn’t want to witness that scene; he’s terrified that you might accept the flirtation, that you’ll realize he’s not good enough for you.  

- And if you’re going to leave him, he doesn’t want to see it with his own eyes.  

- Eventually, he’ll be the one to bring up the subject, just to tell you that if you’re tired of him, he won’t hold it against you and that he understands.  

- It’s not true, but he wants to seem mature. He wants to be a good partner until the end and almost breaks down when you reassure him that you don’t want to leave him, that he is enough.

 Viktor:

- Pre-"Arcane s1-tamed" Viktor would snap at the person flirting with you or insult them under his breath.  

- In the wrong moment, with enough alcohol in his system, his reaction could even turn violent.  

- Viktor gets jealous with anger—a mix of fear of being mocked, the lack of control over the situation, and his sense of replaceability set him off.  

- But he’s also an adult. He’ll try to make peace with himself before talking to you about it.  

- Post-"Arcane-tamed" Viktor observes you, tries to read your signals. He’s irritated but keeps calm and even interrupts the situation, pointing out that the two of you have things to do.  

- He doesn’t wait long to bring it up and is straightforward: “Do you like him?”  

- His jealousy is laced with sadness. The thought of losing your warmth, intimacy, and everything he has with you makes him feel empty.  

- He knows he’s often absent because of his research, that it’s hard to be with someone with “special needs” because it can be limiting at times. He’s aware of his unique personality and his background. His anger quickly shifts to resignation, becoming a quiet sorrow.  

- When you try to reassure him, his response is even sadder: “I know I’m hard to love. I don’t blame you.”  

- When someone hits on you, as soon as you’re alone, he holds you closer. During cuddles, he breathes in your scent deeply, as if trying to memorize you in case he will ever have to remember you.

 Ekko:

- At the Tree, it’s pretty normal. They share everything, and everyone is just very friendly. If someone flirts with you at the Firelight hideout, he laughs, jokes, and stays calm.  

- The problem arises outside of that safe space.  

- When someone from outside flirts with you, he’s stunned for a moment, but if it continues, he leaves before you can even respond.  

- He knows that if he stayed, things might escalate.  

- “I didn’t like how that guy was talking to you,” he blurts out when you try to talk to him, but it’s obvious the issue cuts deeper than that. His tone and downcast eyes reveal that it’s more significant than it seems.  

- Living at the Tree has taken your relationship to a deeper level. You take care of the kids together, share everything, and live as part of a big interconnected family.  

- The idea of someone threatening the peace of his home, his family, makes him feel like those things he takes for granted could suddenly change. 

- That tomorrow, you might no longer be his “married” partner but two strangers.

 Vander:

- Vander is too old to be jealous, and has been in enough strange and ambiguous situations not to overreact.  

- If someone flirts with you, maybe at the bar in front of him, he chuckles to himself, commenting only after the person leaves that you’re so attractive no one can resist you.  

- He doesn’t like it, but it often makes him smile to see others recognize what he sees in you.  

- On the night when someone is particularly persistent or you seem to laugh more than usual, he taps his finger on the bar, contemplating what to do. When he catches your eye, he simply mouths, “If you want to go, don’t worry—I’ll close the bar.”  

- It’s not about being open to a polyamorous relationship, don’t misunderstand. He believes that a relationship should be based on the fact that you actively choose to be with him, not on obligation. That’s why he gives you the freedom to back out if you want.  

- When you shake your head, refuse the other person, and stay with him—maybe touching his hand at the bar when he has a moment of peace—he looks at you with an indescribable tenderness.  

- “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he whispers when you’re finally alone, holding you tightly in his arms.  

Silco:

- On one hand, he’s too old to make a scene, but when he sees someone flirting with you right in front of him, something inside him falters.  

- Being able, after so many years, to form such a deep bond with someone put him in a state of comfort he hadn’t realized might one day be taken away.  

- Suddenly, that possibility becomes real, vivid. Outwardly, he shows no emotion and doesn’t lose his composure for even a moment—because if he did, he might lose control. But inside, he feels like he’s dying.  

- If you laugh a little too much or don’t explicitly reject the person, the turmoil inside him intensifies rapidly.  

- He’s been through too much, and his mind is wired to “strike before being struck,” which is why he immediately becomes colder, seeking emotional distance to avoid being vulnerable.  

- He’s not the king of good communication. If you try to ask him what’s wrong, he’ll dodge the question. It’ll take a lot of effort on your part to understand what triggered his behavior, to talk to him and reassure him gently, never too directly.  

- You’ll need to show him, through actions, that you haven’t left and don’t plan to before he starts acting normal again—becoming more physically affectionate when you’re alone.  

 Jinx:

- Jinx is possessive and jealous, living in constant fear of being both not enough and too much at the same time—of losing everything she has and being abandoned by anyone who can still leave her.  

- It’s in those rare moments when the buzzing behind her eyes quiets, when she’s at rest, that for a single second, just one fleeting instant, she allows herself to forget that fear.  

- And then, when you’re together, and someone pays you a compliment that makes you laugh, something snaps in her head.  

- Do you know them? Why are they so friendly? Why don’t you say something? Why did you stop walking? Walk, dammit, walk. Why are they touching your shoulder? Why don’t you stop them? Why don’t you stop them? WHY DON’T YOU STOP THEM.  

- The likelihood that the person who flirted with you ends up found the next day with a broken limb in a dumpster is extremely high.  

- But even that doesn’t calm her. When you get home, she isolates herself, spiraling into thoughts that maybe, if you could, you’d have gone with that person or followed them.  

- She’ll need lots of affirmation and both verbal and physical reassurance before she calms down.  

Vi:

- Her jealousy exists, it’s there, but she expresses it in a very straightforward way.  

- Having been forced to grow up too quickly and unable to throw tantrums because she was responsible for her siblings, her emotions have always been carefully bottled up and dealt with through questionable coping mechanisms.  

- Sure, having someone by her side now means she can’t go brawling in the streets, especially when the reason feels so trivial.  

- Usually, she doesn’t even pay much attention to it, but this time, exhaustion, stress, or a moment of vulnerability probably made the situation unbearable.  

- And as always, if you have questions no one can answer, the solution is probably at the bottom of a glass.  

- She doesn’t want to burden you with how she feels; it’s not even your fault, and she knows it’s stupid to feel this way. But when she’s forced to confront the idea that you may not a constant in her life, that maybe you want something better, something more—at that moment, she needs to get out, to scream, to punch something, with enough alcohol in her system to pass out in an alleyway.  

- She struggles to talk about it, hates making you responsible for her emotions, and hates that she has to make you worry when it’s not your fault.  

- When you bring it up and try to approach her with an attitude that makes her feel reassured, she has moments of being emotionally fragile, more vulnerable than usual.  

 Caitlyn:

- This woman is a lady killer—it’s sadly very normal for people to get jealous of her.  

- At work, during conferences, or noble meetings, she’s used to people flirting with her. That’s why, when she sees someone flirting with you, her first thought is that they might be making you uncomfortable.  

- If she sees you’re actually uncomfortable, she’ll personally step in to ensure the other person leaves.  

- If she doesn’t see you uncomfortable, she’ll observe you for a few minutes, becoming distracted and absent from her own conversations, lost in analyzing what she’s seeing. -However, she dislikes waiting to address issues, so expect her to ask if something is wrong between the two of you as soon as you’re home.  

- Caitlyn’s issue is that her thoughts ferment. If she doesn’t address the matter immediately, each day will make her mood worse, leading to unnecessary tension.  

- She might not shake off that strange feeling immediately and could remain distant until the next day, but it’s not punitive. Her emotions catch her off guard and make her colder unintentionally.  

- She’ll make up for it completely the following day.  

- She’ll also ensure she gets matching rings for both of you, so they can serve as a signal to others.  

 Mel:

- For Mel, jealousy is just bitterness.  

- She doesn’t show it. Her training in always appearing reliable and cordial means she’s adept at masking her feelings. So, when she sees someone flirting with you at a gala, her gaze lingers for just a few moments before she returns to smiling at her conversation partner.  

- A little passive-aggressive, with comments like “I saw you had fun” or “So, tell me about…”—but not meant to provoke you.  

- She’s the first to acknowledge that at meetings and galas, one must be adaptable, charming, smiley, and captivating. She knows that flirting is often part of the façade or just a small piece of a larger strategy, so what may sound like provocation is usually her way of asking what was on your mind.  

- Her bitter jealousy becomes stronger and more genuine when there’s no strategy, no deeper game, but the person continues attending events and spends all their time trying to flirt with you. In these cases, she won’t hesitate to interrupt with a firm, “Excuse us,” and lead you to the balcony.  

- No scene, no lecture—just a curt and slightly sad, “I only ask that you don’t make a fool of me.”  

- When reassured that there was never even the intention of doing so, she becomes almost an accomplice. Have fun (within limits), gather amusing or trivial information, and tell her all about it later when you’re alone under the sheets.  

 Sevika:

- Sorry to disappoint, but she’s the least jealous character here.  

- Her most stable relationships have all been at the brothel. If someone flirts with you, she’ll wait until the person leaves to comment on how slimy they were or how you seem to attract everyone without exception.  

- Zaun is precarious; her job is precarious; even staying alive is extremely precarious. She doesn’t have time for jealousy. To her, it wouldn’t make sense to get angry or even cause a scene just because someone flirts with you when she can’t be around much or offer you stability herself.  

- She knows perfectly well that her mechanical arm, her boss, her boss’s daughter, the drug use, and the dangerous work she does make her someone it’s hard to stay close to. But this doesn’t make her insecure—rather, it makes her grateful.  

- It’s your choice to stay by her side, and if you ever want to leave, she believes you should feel free to do so without fearing any outburst from her.  

- When you reassure her that you’d never betray, replace, or leave her, she pulls you close with one arm, kisses your forehead, and gives the faintest smile.  

- That said, if someone flirts too much and you complain about their persistence, Sevika will handle it diplomatically—by picking them up and slamming them against the wall in front of you, making sure the point sinks in effectively.  

[arkangelo-7]

I’m sure someone’s already headcannoned this, but Bruce having pet names for the Batkids? Man, those are his babies—you can bet your ass he has pet names for them. He might not be the type of man to show much affection beyond a shoulder pat or the occasional forehead kiss, but he’s determined to parent the crap outta these orphans, and pet names are an easier medium to show that he cares.

Dick is both “chum” and “sweetheart” depending on the context. When Bruce is feeling playful and comfortable (the easy, “your mine and I’m just happy to be here with you” kind of love), he’ll stick with “chum” and Dick absolutely loves it. But when Dick’s sick or has a nightmare or got injured during patrol? It’s sweetheart. It’s default mode for Bruce, because seeing Dick in pain brings up so many raw, intense emotions (Bruce gets scared, goddamit) that it’s easier for him to say “I’ve got you, sweetheart, it’s okay, just keep your eyes on mine,” then it is to say “I’m so terrified that I’m going to loose you, I love you, you’re my everything.”

Jason is“Jaylad.” But it’s less of the name that’s important and more of the story behind it that is. For the first few months that Jason was in Bruce’s care, Bruce didn’t dare call him anything other then his name, in fear that he’d scare him away (he was already so distrusting, so hesitant, so fearful whenever Bruce talked to loud or moved to fast or got upset), but at the same time, he’d seen how pleased Dick had been at being called “chum” and wanted to bestow a similar endearment on Jason. But—he didn’t want to go to far. So instead of calling him “lad” like his own father had once called him, Bruce calls him “Jaylad.” It’s a little more impersonal, but it makes Jason more comfortable. (But when Bruce cradled his son’s broken body he said “no, darling, not you, don’t leave me—” because just how Dick is “sweetheart,” Jason has also always been “darling.”)

For Tim… it’s more complicated. He shoved his way into Bruce’s life and he’s forever grateful, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Jason and Dick. He sees Tim as his son, of course, but their relationship was built on the darkest, most despairing part of Bruce’s life. But even in that terrible season, Bruce would look over at Tim working on a case or cleaning his suit and say, “Good job, sport.” It doesn’t happen often, but Tim is “sport.”

Cassandra is “love.” Bruce has never said it to her, aloud, but he knows Cass can read him well enough to hear the unspoken endearment, to see how much he longs to protect her, bring her joy, fill her heart with all the love she’s filled his with.

Steph is “duck.” And not necessarily because Bruce decided that it was, but because 9 times out of 10 he finds himself screaming, “Robin, get down!” because Stephanie will not for the love of God follow his orders, and end up right in the line of fire. To save time he eventually just started saying “Duck!” It keeps Steph from getting whacked to high heavens and saves Bruce (another) heart attack, but over the years it’s also become somewhat of a ritual to say “duck” whenever Steph walks in the room. Bruce secretly wants to call her “ducky” (which is what his mother called Kate), but he’s never worked up the nerve.

Duke is “kid.” By the time he’s in the family, Bruce has loosened up and lightened up, especially with everyday affection (which is to say, he’s not avoiding it like the plague). He’s quick to say “Good job, kid” whenever Duke had an accomplishment or ask “how are you today, kiddo?” when they see each other in passing in the Batcave.

Damian, lastly, would never allow Bruce to call him anything other then his name. But every once in a while, Bruce can get away with saying “son.” And it’s the best thing in the world.

[n1daehodefender]

Their reactions of you telling them you want to start trying for a baby!

Contains: Kang dae-ho, Nam gyu, thanos

A/N: This is inspired by @svetamillss post about their headcanons of you telling them you want a baby so creditis to them!!!

Warnings: Discussions about starting a family, emotional vulnerability, mentions of trauma, and varying reactions to the concept of having children.

Kang Dae-ho

Golden Retriever Boyfriend Energy: Kang Dae-ho is the type of boyfriend who radiates warmth, kindness, and endless patience. He grew up in a household with four sisters, so he’s very attuned to emotional cues and naturally supportive. He adores you, always making sure you feel loved and safe, and he frequently daydreams about your future together.

Initial Reaction to You Asking About a Baby: When you bring up the idea of starting a family, Dae-ho freezes mid-bite of his food (because you’re probably asking during a casual, comfortable moment at home). His first instinct is to make sure he heard you correctly.

“Wait… like a baby? As in… a mini-you or me running around the house?” His voice wavers slightly, caught between surprise and excitement.

Once he processes what you’re asking, his face lights up with a mixture of joy and nervousness. He’s wanted this, but he never wanted to pressure you.

Vulnerability and Deep Conversations: That evening, he sits you down for a heartfelt talk. Dae-ho takes the idea seriously, wanting to ensure that you’re both ready for the challenges and joys of parenthood.

“You know I’d love nothing more than to be a dad… but I need to know how you’re feeling about it. Are you scared? Excited? Both?” He wants to make sure you’ve thought about every angle, not because he doubts you, but because he cares so deeply.

He also opens up about his past, talking about how his sisters shaped his view of family. “Growing up, I always thought about what kind of parent I’d want to be. And my dad-,… I don’t ever want to be that kind of dad.”

Planning and Reassurance: Dae-ho is the type to throw himself wholeheartedly into the idea once he knows you’re on the same page. He starts researching baby books, looks into parenting classes, and even asks his sisters for advice.

He’s also incredibly tender and protective of you, ensuring you feel supported every step of the way. “You know I’m here, right? Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

Moments of Humor and Excitement: He’s already imagining what your child might look like, joking about how he hopes they get your eyes or your laugh. He gets especially sentimental at night, cuddling you close and whispering, “Can you imagine how much we’re going to love them?”

Nam Gyu

Nam Gyu is thoughtful and introspective, the kind of partner who expresses his love through actions more than words. He’s fiercely protective of you, always ensuring your needs are met, and though he isn’t outwardly affectionate, his love for you runs deep.

When you bring it up, Nam Gyu’s face remains stoic, but his hands clench slightly on the table. He’s taken aback—not because he doesn’t want children, but because the idea forces him to confront his own fears and insecurities.

“You want… a child? With me?” His voice is low, almost hesitant. He’s struggling to process what this means for both of you.

Nam Gyu worries about the world you’d bring a child into, especially given his experiences. He’s seen how cruel life can be, and the thought of exposing a child to that terrifies him.

“I don’t want them to grow up feeling… helpless,” he confesses later that night. “I’ve seen too much. What if I can’t protect them? What if I fail them?”

Despite his fears, he can’t help but picture a future where your child inherits your strength and his quiet resilience.

Nam Gyu takes time to process the idea, but he eventually comes to you with a clear decision.

“If this is what you want, I’ll do everything in my power to be the best father I can be. I just… need you to be patient with me.”

He’s cautious but willing, showing his commitment through small actions: building a crib, researching schools, and learning how to cook meals for a growing family.

Nam Gyu becomes even more attentive and protective of you, always keeping a hand on your back when you’re out together and ensuring you’re never overexerting yourself. His love deepens in ways he didn’t think were possible

Thanos (Su-bong)

Thanos is the life of the party, always cracking jokes and keeping the mood light. But beneath his humor is a man who has endured pain and loss, which makes him cherish you all the more. He’s your biggest cheerleader, constantly reminding you how amazing you are.

When you bring up the idea, Thanos immediately bursts into laughter—not because he’s mocking you, but because he’s genuinely shocked and unsure how to process his emotions.

“You’re serious? Like… you want a little Thanos running around? Or maybe a mini-you with your brains and my charm?”

Emotional Vulnerability: Later, when the reality sinks in, he becomes more serious. Thanos isn’t afraid to admit his fears, and he opens up about his past struggles.

“I’ve lost so much, you know? The idea of having something—someone—so precious… it scares the hell out of me. But you… you make me believe it’s possible.”

He confesses his deepest fear: losing you or the child. “I don’t know what I’d do if something went wrong, but if this is what you want… I’m in. No questions asked.”

Thanos approaches the idea of parenthood with his signature humor, making you laugh during otherwise emotional moments.

“Do you think they’ll inherit my good looks or your stubbornness? Or maybe both—poor kid’s doomed either way.”

He starts brainstorming ridiculous baby names and jokingly practices “dad jokes” to prepare for the role.

Beneath his playful exterior, Thanos shows a side of himself that’s deeply emotional and committed. He talks to your belly long before you’re even pregnant, promising the baby a life filled with love, laughter, and bad jokes.

“They’re going to have the best life because they’ll have you as a mom. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure they know how much they’re loved.”

[mickyschumacher]

[MEANS I CARE!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: isack is entirely confused why his best friend is avoiding him. or in which you realised you're in love with your best friend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆��: childhood friends to lovers, mostly angst, bits of fluff, a reader with dismissive avoidant attachment, reader struggles with her emotions, initial anger from confrontational!isack but overall caring!isack, cute love confession at the end! // poorly proof read as usual

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: isack hadjar x bsf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.2k

𝐀/𝐍: poured a bit of myself into this one! it's hard to tell from my writing, but i struggle with expressing my emotions and telling people i care for them. i've heard it's quite common for older sisters to have avoidant attachment issues so... i guess i check the box ◡̈ anyway, this one might be a tad bit dramatic but lmk what you think! ♡︎ // also miss mcrae's album has a lot of avoidant attachment!!

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You and Isack were opposites in every sense that mattered.

Where one would claim he was too expressive, you couldn't bring yourself to show you cared.

Where he was indecisive, you held all rationality.

And where he trusted freely, you locked yourself up.

But nevertheless, you had been childhood friends since he moved next door to you. Neither of you had a problem with the way you both acted. It was sort of like give and take: where you lacked, he made up for it and vice versa.

It never really mattered. At least that's what you thought anyways.

This year was different from every other. There would be no other like it. Because Isack was debuting as a Formula One driver. His life long dream. And you couldn't be anymore proud.

You didn't outright say it–you couldn't. You remember smiling when he told you and saying congratulations before Isack simply rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug.

You remembered him thanking you when you pulled away, stomach churning at the lengthy hug. You were confused. Eyebrows furrowed, you asked why.

"For believing in me," he said with the most beautiful smile and the warmest brown eyes holding your own.

That was the defining moment... the moment you realised you were in love with your best friend.

There were signs. There were always signs.

Your extensive care for him and only him. The constant worry every time he went out on track. The small skip in your heart beat when he'd return home with your favourite ice cream. Your slight amusement when you'd pretend to be cross with him and he'd think you were being serious. The little trinkets he'd bring back from every race to put on the shelves in your bedroom. Or the way he lowered the volume of the TV before you'd even ask him to because he knew you didn't like it.

They were always there. But the line between best friends and whatever... it was so similar... so blurry. How could you've ever known?

But that day... it was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your head and reality had finally been opened to you.

You loved Isack. Not liked. Not admired. Not fancied. Loved. And you had been for years.

God it scared you. It terrified you.

People never said it to you but you knew how you were.

When you invested too much of yourself into one thing, you stopped it only moments later. You didn't want to stick around to see if something would be good. It was the assumption it would hurt. So if you could dismiss it before it even had the chance to... that's the only way you could ever relax.

You never understood how people did it. How you could give so much of yourself away. What happened when it all inevitably failed? Why wouldn't you protect yourself first? Why did you have to deal with the mess of emotions?

Loving Isack... it meant showing the most vulnerable sides of yourself. And it's not that he didn't know you. He was your best friend, of course he knew you. But that made it worse.

In your years of friendship, you had cried twice in front of him. And you hated it every single second of it. That he could see you break down. That you weren't the strong friend he normally relied on.

Loving Isack was going to fail.

You knew it.

You knew it when he crashed in the formation lap on Australia and it felt like a part of you had been ripped and torn into pieces when you saw him cry on the screens.

You knew it when he came to you, thought to be out of tears, but almost on his knees, hands immediately wrapping around you for a hug, asking you why this had happened to him and you couldn't do anything but apologise to him and tell him he'd come back stronger while you cried so silently.

When his parents thanked you for being there for Isack... fuck, you knew it would all backfire.

So you slowly stopped. Like you always did.

Fewer texts. Fewer jokes. More lies. Forcing yourself to do something–anything–else but care too much.

You hated it. You hated that it was bringing you some calm despite your body screaming at you.

It was getting difficult to keep it up. How many more times would you blamed it on the time zones? As if you hadn't memorised them the moment they came out. As if you hadn't been doing this his entire career.

But the small break after the Saudi Grand Prix meant Isack was back home. After you had missed your usual good luck text.

You had forgotten actually. You were in your room, studying quietly, unaware anyone would be home as your workaholic parents were out like normal.

Consequently, the thumps up your staircase were loud, almost deafening. Your ears perked up as the door of your bedroom went wide open.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Isack's shrill voice echoed in your bedroom, chest heaving as he stood in front of you, arms firmly to his side.

You turned from your desk. You eyed his attire briefly. The hoodie and sweatpants, the bags under his eyes... he'd probably just come from the airport. The one where you'd usually be waiting for him. "Excuse me?" You asked, throat dry from not speaking in hours.

Isack blinked, swallowing. He took a step forward to you, eyes flickering over you rapidly to see if you were okay. "Is something wrong? A-Are you sick? Are you stressed? Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

You could feel it. The tear in your heart growing while annoyance boiled under your skin. He didn't need to fix you. That was your job.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," you sighed out, standing from your desk before you walked to your shelves. You chewed on your lip, nervously eyeing the trinkets Isack had brought you.

You needed this conversation to be over before it went somewhere else.

"Putain de merde," Isack swore, running a hand through his hair. He walked to you again. "Like hell you don't... you don't talk to me for a week and avoid my calls and you don't know what I’m talking about? Like I'm crazy?" He asked with a small scoff.

You sucked in a sharp breath, turning to face him. "I told you with the time diff–"

A loud groan interrupted your sentence. Isack breathed slowly, fingers pressed on his nose bridge. "I swear to fucking God, if you mention that stupid fucking time difference again, I will lose my mind."

You stayed quiet. You weren't sure what to say. You wanted to peel out of your skin, you were so uncomfortable. You hated confrontation. Isack knew you hated confrontation. And yet...

Isack sighed quietly. He stepped closer to you, holding your hands with his gently. "Please, ma moitié. Please tell me what's wrong. Did I do something? Why... why won't you talk to me?"

Your eyes burned at the crack in his voice. Fuck, this sucked. You hated yourself for feeling like this. It was like it was on the tip of your tongue but you could never get it out.

"I..." you said shakily, forcing yourself to remove your burning hands from his while you pretended like you didn't see the hurt flash in his eyes, "It's nothing. Nothing is wrong."

"So it is something. Something has been bothering you. Since last year... since I told you about my seat... something's been wrong. What is it? What happened?" Isack queried softly, brown eyes searching yours so deeply for an answer.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Shit.

"You know you can tell me anything."

But I can't! You wanted to scream it. You just couldn't tell him.

"Isack, please... just– you know how I am. I'll deal with it, hmm?" You said, trying to muster up a smile.

He stared at you quietly and you were scared he was seeing too much of you. The debate in his eyes... the way he chewed his lip... he also couldn't tell if he should say it.

"You want to cry," he stated, making your eyes widen. "I can see it in your eyes. The redness. Your red cheeks. You want to say something so just say it! I'm worried for you."

"Stop saying things like that." You let out an exasperated groan. You brushed past him, clambering into his shoulder. "I don't understand how you do it," you murmured angrily more to yourself than him.

The tears were freely flowing down your cheeks before you knew it. You glared hard at your desk, eyes hot as though it would stop you from crying.

You couldn't see it but Isack could feel his heart breaking at the sight of your figure shaking. You could feel him gently lay his hand over your shoulder. "It's okay to cry," he mumbled, "I wish you wouldn't hide it."

You felt sick. Like your stomach was churning. It felt like his hand was leaving an imprint on you, searing you. Exhaustion was clouding your body. Exhaustion that had built up over the course of the past few weeks.

"I can't do it like you, Isack. I can't show I care. It's so hard. It's like I have to constantly fight myself," you quietly said, unable to bear this any longer.

"Hey," Isack murmured, hand travelling to your face to turn you to him. His eyes softened at your wet cheeks. Wiping them with the pads of his thumbs, he held your chin with his thumb. "It's okay. You don't have to do anything like me. Take your time. Do what you want when you want."

You breathed quietly while you stared at your best friend. He was right. It wasn't as easy as he made it sound, but you were so tired of feeling like crap. You focused on his encouraging smile and opened your mouth.

"I... you were right. I was avoiding you," you admitted, eyes falling to the floor in embarrassment. You could feel he wanted to say something but he stayed quiet, waiting for you. "I was avoiding you because I care."

Isack furrowed his brows. "I don't understand."

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating how much you wanted to say... how much you could say. "Last year... when you told me you got your seat, you thanked me."

He nodded in agreement. "For believing in me. Because you always do," he murmured, his free hand rubbing your own softly, comforting you.

You smiled gently at his words before taking in a sharp intake of air. "It just made me think, well, realise that I'm in love with you. And I always have been," you breathed out, the weight slowly lifting off your shoulders.

You could see Isack's eyes slightly widen but you continued. "And that terrifies me, Isack. Because it means I care. I care a lot for you. And I'm scared that because I care, something will go wrong. I-I didn't mean to shut you out. It's not what I want. It's just all I know. So I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I'm dumping this on you when you don't feel the same way and–"

"Wait, wait, wait," Isack interjected, hands both reaching to hold your face gently. He held your eyes with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "Who's says I don't feel the same way?"

You mouth felt dry, heart speeding. "I... You do?"

Isack smiled, laughing softly as he nodded. "I thought it was obvious. That maybe you just didn't feel the same way."

He watched a dark expression fall on your face. You were in that same dreadful space you had just been in. "Hey, ma moitié, what's wrong?"

Your eyes fell to his once again. "What if I can't love you enough?"

It sounded strange but he knew what you meant. Even with all your care... what if you couldn't show you loved him enough? What if you couldn't express it?

"Not possible," Isack retorted, casually shrugging.

"But I–"

"I see it," Isack firmly told you, quietening you easily. "I see it when you're at my races and you stand on the side, letting me go to my parents first. I see you and your camera taking pictures of us when you think I don't. I see your heart. I see all of it."

You blinked, eyes burning all over again. For the first time in forever, you stepped forward, hugging him tightly. "Je t’aime, Isack.

His arms wrapped around yours, holding you closer to him. Isack smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Je t’aime, ma moitié."

"Did you bring me any souvenirs?" You mumbled against his shoulders, sniffling slightly.

You could feel his body rumble with a chuckle. "Depends. did you even watch my race or were you busy 'sleeping?'"

You pulled away, making a face, guilt still swirling within you. "I did watch it. You know I watch it even when I'm mad at you," you pouted.

Isack grinned. "Then of course I did."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[eclipse-msoul]

FAMILY, FAMILY DEAR BATS! 🦇

Synopsis : What happens when a normal reader enters Batfamily. Not by getting orphaned or saved but rather just visiting her uncle for the first time ( it's Bruce ). Now somehow she's become the unofficial therapist of this family and for unknown reasons the only one with enough common sense.Also why is everyone so Overprotective?

Or

Normal reader X Platonic Batfamily

Chapter 1 :-

Your life was pretty uneventful and even, except for a few ups and downs here and there. But still it was as ordinary as it could get, living with a mother that had nursing as a profession and your father being an office worker made it normal but nice.

That was until one day when your mother told you about your uncle’s existence. Her cousin to be exact.Well excuse you for being surprised- YOU didn't even know you had another living relative ??? And they just dropped the bomb so casually – that too at dinner time !!

“ I haven't actually met him yet but the media has framed him to be… quite unique.” Your mother quotes. “ I talked to him, he's a kind man and I think meeting him would do us some good.” Your father sees the way your one way from questioning reality so he gently pats your back and smiles.

“ Don't worry little star, if it makes you feel better she told me two days ago.” He says as your mother lightly giggles and the two make a couple of jokes here and there. “ You two…really..” you groan.

 As the dinner slowly comes to an end and your father and mother pick up the dishes and drop them at the sink, your mother glances at your father telling him to speak. “ Ahem-” he fake coughs to get your attention, “ This summer we're planning to send you to live with him.” 

You look at him , your eyes wide. “ I beg your finest pardon-WHaT!?” they both nod and you violently shake your head. “ What happened to you two going with me ?”

They share a glance , “ We'll be going together but you'll stay a bit longer and get to know him better. He's family after all."

“ Mom, dad ! You've got to be kidding me.” You try to reason, “ I don't even know him, Heck I didn't even know he existed until a few moments ago and you're telling me to just go and live with him out of nowhere !!”

Your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and you just know you're going to lose. “ Sweetie, my cousin isn't a bad man. Just think of it as meeting a new friend and also I heard Gotham has one of the best medical units in the world~"

You think for a moment before a sigh escapes your lips. You can't defeat them anyway, might as well try. ( Which is totally not because you're excited about checking out the hospitals in Gotham and their advancement. Nope sir, No way)

“ Fine, I'll go. When are we leaving ?” You ask to get up from the table. “ Tomorrow.” 

“ WhAt-”

…

Moving forward you are currently standing in front of the totally not terrifying and scary Mansion inside the most amazing and sunny Gotham. Get the sarcasm here ? Yeah, me too.

Your mother dials the number and the bell rings and runs until it's finally picked up. “ Bruce Wanye here.” his voice sounds horse, he was probably asleep you think. It's only 11am right now. You've slept far later.

“ Hello…yeah…it's me...” 

The Giant Gate automatically opens and the three of us enter. You take in the scenery and like you thought this place is really nice. It's a billionaire’s garden afterall. Just then a voice comes from inside the Mansion and a butler comes out.

He’s an old British looking man, the way he moves is elegant like those movies you've seen and the way he greets your parents and you is so nerve cracking. “ A pleasure to meet you Miss Rachel and Sir Lucas.” He greets them and then his eyes turn to you.

“ And this is?”

“ Y/n but please..call me Julia.” You reply.

“ Miss Julia then.” He states , “ please come in. Master Bruce has been waiting for your arrival.” He brings you all to the meeting area. As you all take a seat the butler bows yet again and walks away.

“ I'll get Mister Bruce here.” He says walking away.

Your gaze that was previously fidgeting back and forth now has time to look around. This house was so splendid and beautiful and everything was exceptional and well cared for.

Few minutes pass before the door chimes open and walks in on the Man you searched about last night. His posture is elegant like a noble, similar to the butler, yet his eyes are filled with dark circles.Youve got a very good feeling he hardly sleeps.

“ A pleasure to meet you.” He says while shaking hands with your parents and then taking a seat. “ I'm sorry it took me a while. I was busy and hardly had time to rest due to the WE business and projects coming up.” 

Your mother nodes. “ It's understandable Bruce. You've got a great burden on you and it can get hard.” You sit next to your father and mother, right in the middle of the giant sofa as they chat.

Bruce while talking turns his attention to you and you see how his eyes briefly soften and there's some sadness in them. But it vanished too quickly for you to think it was there.

“ This is your daughter ?” He asks.

“ Told you long enough to notice.” Your mother dabs a small sarcastic smile. She loves chaos far too much. “ I apologize-”

“ I'm kidding Bruce !” Your mother retorts back. “ This is my little baby girl , Julia Y/n.”

You smile at him awkwardly and he returns the gesture. “ How old are you, Julia ?”

“ I'm sixteen, Mr Wanye.”

“ Oh, you're close to Damien's age-” he remarks , “Please call me Bruce. I'm your uncle, Julia.” He smiles. 

“ Alright, uncle Bruce... and uh, who's Damien ?” you ask curious. Your parents definitely haven't mentioned a Damien.

" He's my son. So he'd be your cousin, Julia."

" Oh !" You glare at your parents for not telling you this and they just nervously turn away. They live messing with you far too much. Sigh

" How old is he, uncle Bruce ?"

" He's eighteen." Noticing your curiosity he deemed to telling you more.

" He's currently on a little trip to his elder brother's place. They'll be coming here by tomorrow" he smiled.

Okay that's it. How many cousins did you have ? You were told about one uncle and that's it.

" I see."

And you parents and uncle get back to their conversation. Soon enough the butler returns with some refreshments and introduces himself as Alfred Pennyworth.

Once you've eaten, you excuse yourself to look around the place and the butler whom you now know as Alfred guides you.

The Mansion is bigger than you initially thought and Mr. Alfred is a nice companion to talk to. He tells you about your cousins (surprise suprise, THERE'S MORE THAN SIX) and about how most of them are adopted except Damien who used to call himself the “ blood son” and all their shenanigans.

It's fun to learn about your soon-to-be-new family. All of them seem to sound like interesting individuals and you could use some cousins to play with. Alfred even mentions their hobbies and how they like to prank each other.

Also did you mention how the way to Gotham was the most nerve cracking thing ever. Like this is the city that batman-THE BATMAN couldn't cleanse after almost two and half decades of work. So it's an amazing day nevertheless.

While exploring the Mansion with Alfred your steps stop when a specific picture catches your eyes. You stop and observe it.

Two adults stood along with a small kid that you deemed to be eight to ten years old. The picture drew you in like nothing ever did. It had this air around it that just couldn't explain.

“ Lovely picture, No ?” Alfred’s voice broke your concentration. Your eyes slid to his and you smiled slightly. “ It is. Who are they ? The woman seems to resemble my mom.”

“ That's Miss Martha and Mr Thomas along with young master Bruce. It's a family photo before their death.” Alfred reminisced. “ It's been a tradition for generations and master Bruce has continued it.” He guided you to the latest picture of the family.

It felt forced.

They all felt too far away in this ( like they didn't want to be there ). Even Bruce felt off. Different from the smiling man you had just met. He seemed tired and sad.

“ Those are my cousins ?” You asked, hoping Alfred didn't see the look in your eyes

“ Yes miss Julia.” He told you which was who by pointing and explaining their descriptions. Being a sixteen year old girl with an intense love for history and lore and yaoi, you tried your best to listen.

…

“ It was really nice to meet family. Thanks for having us Bruce.” Your mother hugged Bruce which he returned and then he shaked hands with your father. “ No thank you for coming. I'm kind of ashamed to admit, it gets lonely without my children here..” He chuckled.

" Well you won't get lonely not with our dear Julia here ! She had a tendency to make people break their shell and fit in." You father added.

" She sounds like a lovely child. Does she perhaps have an interest in medicine ? She kept asking about it during our conversations." 

Your father and mother shared a small grin. " She does. It's all she can ever dream about."

" That's...good." his eyes flickered to you.

You had fallen asleep an hour ago during dinner and was currently laying on the sofa. Your snores echoed throughout the Mansion. Your parents chuckled and Bruce couldn't help but think it was a pleasant change.

A child that didn't have to fight crime.

One that didn't have to take the burden of the world.

He had already investigated your and your parents backgrounds and confirmed that your mother was indeed his blood cousin. The blood part was maybe due to Damien kind of rubbing off on him.

It was a shock to find out about her existence. Even more to know his mother had a elder sister that passed away few years back and her only child had disappeared as a toddler. That was your mom.

He would never even know of her existence if not for her searching for her parents and finding him. He almost cried when he saw her picture, she resembled his mother in looks except her hair was black.

But you, your looked like the exact replica of his mother. Like a younger version.

He knew your personality was meek yet it had kindness and a spirit all his children had. It was nice chatting with you during dinner. You expressed your interest so well and he knew that his kids would love you. Maybe even Damien. 

Talking to a kid like this , carefree and smiling reminded him of what he had lost.It almost felt like his children hadn't left.

That part really hurt.

“ Alfred will take you to the rooms. You can have any you like. Have a pleasant sleep, I'll see you all in the morning.” He said leaving you and your parents in Alfred's care (not before glancing at you one final time.)

Time for his duty.

TBC…

[rickywhen-i-catchyouricky]

Forever?

I don't know, I'm in my feelings right now so here's a short ranking of who among the brothers + the dateables would be the least to most likely be open to the concept of forever with you:) Lmk if you like the idea I kinda wanna write a longer fic about it mwahahhahahaha, also! If you disagree w my rankings, it's just my take, you're free to rank them however you see fit <3

The brothers + Dateables

c/w: gn! pronouns used, none

word count: like 70 words each lol

11. Belphegor

He loves you, deeply. But forever? He’s cautious, he knows what eternity feels like, and after everything with Lilith, he doesn't immediately jump to forever. If MC proves to be a constant comfort, someone he can dream beside without fear—he’ll come around. But he’s hesitant first.

“You’d want to be stuck with a sleepy cow demon like me forever? That’s a long time, you know...”

10. Solomon

Kinda unexpected from a person who's lived for centuries but it is for that exact reason that he'd be uncertain. He knows what forever feels like and it’s not always kind. He’s seen love fade, promises break. But MC makes him hope again. The skepticism isn't because he doesn’t want them, but rather he worries he’ll lose them to time. When he finally caves, it’s with trembling honesty.

“Eternity… hasn’t been kind to me. But if it’s with you? I think I could learn to love it again.”

9. Mammon

Mammon is ride-or-die. He wouldn’t say it first—but he’d mean it more than anyone. He’ll fight for their affection every day, terrified they'll find someone better. When they call him their favorite, his heart practically stops. That’s when he starts planning the rest of his life around them, without telling them outright. He wants forever badly, but it scares the hell out of him. He won’t ask for it until he’s absolutely sure they won’t leave.

“Ya really want me around forever? Seriously? Well, duh—who doesn't want to spend forever with The Great Mammon! You better not be joking ‘cause I ain’t ever leavin’, not in a thousand years.”

8. Leviathan

Surprisingly high. Once he loves, he loves hard. He doesn’t believe he deserves someone like MC, but if they choose him again and again? He’ll devote his whole eternity to them. He’s terrified, but he wants it. His "forever" just sounds like building Legos, watching anime, and holding her hand during boss fights.

“If you really- really meant it, I’d—yeah. I’d want to stay. Until the last save point.”

7. Simeon

Hear me out—he wants to love forever, but he’s scared of the pain it might bring. Still, he believes in love, deeply. With MC, it’s gentle warmth, shared stories, laughter over tea. If they asked him to stay, he’d fall to Earth, The Devildom, or anywhere, just to be near them.

“If eternity means hearing your laughter every day… then I would give up Heaven for it in a heartbeat.”

6. Satan

Satan is both romantic and pragmatic. He’s aware of the risks of forever, but he’s fascinated by the way MC makes the days feel different. Eternity is long, but if he can laugh with them, debate them, and read beside them for all of it? He’s in.

“I never thought I’d want to stay in one story forever. But you keep changing the plot.”

5. Asmodeus

I already know what some of you are thinking because most think he’s flighty, but after everything that happened—Asmo craves deep, everlasting connection. If MC shows they see more than just his beauty, and love him as he is? He’ll hold their hand through the centuries, making sure they always feels desired, adored, and treasured.

“You’ll still think I’m beautiful when we’ve watched the stars burn out, right? Good. Then I’m yours.”

4. Lucifer

He understands the weight of eternity. Lucifer will consider the practicalities of binding his fate to theirs, but once he lets his heart lead? He’s certain. He doesn’t love lightly, and if he chooses forever, he’ll mean it. But he might hide how badly he wants it at first.

“Do you understand what eternity means, MC? Perfect, then you understand why I’d still choose you.”

3. Barbatos

I always think of that one line from nightbringer. Time has never surprised him, until MC. They're unpredictable, joyful, and they make his centuries-old heart ache in a way he thought impossible. Barbatos would already have seen a future with them in it—but he’d choose it every time.

“I’ve seen many possible endings, but none compare to a future where you are by my side.”

2. Beelzebub

Beel would never say it first, but he’s the most steadfast. If MC loves him back, that’s it. He’s theirs. He doesn’t need flowery promises—he shows it in actions, in quiet meals, in always being their shield. Forever with them? It’s natural to him.

“I don’t know what forever looks like... But if you’re there, I’ll be happy. I promise.”

1. Diavolo

Forever is a promise he was born to make. He’s been alone too long, but MC's joy brings color back to his world. The second they smile at him like he’s home, it’s over. He’s ready to build a world with them. One they rule beside him—not behind him.

“Forever? MC, I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve already started dreaming of our centuries together."

[inotakumagf]

look out for the little guy

✶ jason todd x gn!reader

word count ✺ 6.8k

summary ✺ there are three times you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, and one time that Red Hood is late.

warning ✺ blood, death, murder, corruption, etc etc in a level that is appropriate for Gotham. Jason is in vigilante limbo here. soooo angst heavy, you might hate me. there’s hurt/no comfort & character death so proceed with caution. also Gotham is in NJ i will die on this hill

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

Your mother always tells you that your nose will lead you right into trouble. You’ve always been too curious as a kid, and that hasn't changed at all as you got older. It’s worse, even, because you’re a journalist in Gotham of all places. There’s always trouble brewing just under the skin of this city, and the corruption, the evil…it all drives you crazy. Every rich asshole in this city has their teeth dug into some drug ring or money laundering scheme or world-ending villain plot. And it's personal, because one of those rich assholes is the reason why your family fell apart. 

They’d wanted to bulldoze the apartment that you grew up in to turn it into some million dollar project and your mother had been adamant that you stay put. Rich people don’t like taking no for an answer, and they’d made it their mission to tear your family to shreds, like you were ants under their gold-plated boots. No one cared, no one ever stepped in to bring justice to your family, because the corruption ran so deep. It pushed you to journalism, so that you could document and show people the truth. It’s not your fault that the stories you were chasing went from regular corrupt assholes to superpowered and Arkham-worthy ones.

Like the story you're pursuing now, about the uptake in missing person reports across Gotham. The pattern of the kidnappings has been…weird, and—as your contact at GCPD was hesitant to reveal to you—it’s left the detectives stumped. But you’d been studying the disappearances and the victimology, and you think you’ve tracked a lead. Really, it only took a bit of effort—effort that the GCPD can’t bother to spare. Rather than hand this information over to the very incompetent and lazy police department, you’d decided that you were just going to find out what was happening to these people on your own. 

An evident similarity between all of the kidnappings is that each missing person had reportedly last been seen on fairgrounds or in parks, and you’d found similar missing reports out-of-state. In your research you’ve discovered a travelling circus group that had very conveniently travelled and performed at these locations, and it explains the pattern in which these people are going missing. And the circus leads right back to Gotham, because all things do. The Circus of Strange is very illusive on Google, but you’d found one name in association with the group. The owner of the circus, Lazlo Valentin, owns a boarded up beauty parlor right in Gotham, and—against your better judgement—you’re going to do some sleuthing.

You stare up at the sign that’s falling apart, that claims that this building is the Pretty Dolls Parlor. You take an unconscious step back. This building looks like it walked right out of an R. L. Stine book, and you’re starting to regret your “run in now, ask questions later” mentality.

“You look lost.”

You jump, fumbling with the pepper spray in your coat pocket. “Get back, or I swear I’ll…oh. It's you.”

Red Hood is a terrifying sight, and you should be more scared, but he’s kind of reformed? Maybe? It’s shaky territory, but between the creepy building and an anti-hero/vigilante/Bat-associate, you’d prefer to stay on his good side. 

“You sound very excited to see me,” he says in a deadpan. “Is there a reason we’re standing outside Stephen King’s wet dream, orrrr…?”

You straighten your back out. “Actually, I’ve been tracking the missing persons case that the GCPD has been neglecting, and I think it has something to do with this building. Lazlo Valentin…does that name mean anything to you?”

“Might,” he says. “How did you connect him to those missing people?”

You explain your theory to him, and to his credit he listens to your whole spiel, even though you’re totally rambling. When you’re done, you spread your hands out to the still-very-creepy building. “Ta-da! That brought me here. You know what, your timing is actually perfect, ‘cause this place is really freaking me out.”

He huffs and steps forward towards the building. “That’s great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a deranged scientist to stop.”

He gets up to the entrance before he notices that you’re trailing behind him. “What are you doing?”

You give him a side-eye. “I’m coming with you.”

He turns so that he’s facing you head-on. “Uh, no the fuck you’re not. Look, I don’t know if you’re looking for a thrill or if you think you’re Sherlock Holmes, but you are most definitely not coming with me.”

You frown. “I’m a journalist at the Gazette, and this is my story. Everyone thinks I’m making this up, but if you’re here then that means this is real. I want to help.”

He sighs. “You can help without putting yourself in danger.”

“But I need to know what happened to those people. If I walk away now, I’ll never find out. Please, I’ll be so quiet, you won’t even know I’m with you.”

“Not happening. But,” he says over your sounds of protest, “if you give me your contact information, I’ll give you my report of events. How does that sound?”

You want to argue, but that actually sounds like a good deal. You get your story and you don’t have to go into the creepy building? “Deal. Here.”

You dig through your wallet and pull out one of your business cards. “This is my email. And I swear your source will stay anonymous. Scout’s honor.”

He nods in appreciation and pulls off the wood plank that keeps the door boarded up. “You should head home now. Oh, and before you go…”

“Yeah?” You ask.

“Stay out of trouble.”

You grin and give him a two-fingered salute. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

You do try to hold yourself to his request. Especially because the report that he’d emailed you had been flawless, and it had gotten you a stand-out story. Terrible for all the people that had been turned into Valentin’s deformed puppets, but at least it got the GCPD to get up and do something. Although it had really been Red Hood that brought him in to Arkham. So, how else do you thank a vigilante that you’ll never see again, other than ensure that you never have to bump into him while following a sketchy lead?

Well. 

You swear you did try. But sometimes...life happens. It’s not like you were trying to get caught in the middle of a robbery.

You were minding your business grabbing some crappy late night “dinner” from your favorite bodega, when some guy decided that this was a great time and place to interrupt your very precious schedule to rob the store at gunpoint. You’re tucked behind in the candy aisle as this is all going on, and you can probably sneak right out the back if you had a pinch of self-preservation. But this is your favorite store on this side of Gotham,, and you'd feel really bad if you just left Angel to fend off the robber by himself when he always turns a blind eye if you're a few cents short.

You sneak up behind the guy as Angel is emptying the register into a pillowcase for him. “So…are you expecting me to roll all these coins? Because it'll take forever if I do. And this has already made my day ten times worse.”

The guy is getting impatient. “I don’t care, just put the money in the damn bag.”

You can hear Angel grumble his complaints as he complies, and that’s the distraction you need to tip toe behind the robber. Once you’re close enough, you jump onto his back. You take advantage of the loose grip he has on the gun to smack it away. It clatters as it lands somewhere near the entrance. The guy turns, trying to knock you off. Aside from getting the gun away from him, you hadn’t really thought this far. He almost knocks you off balance, and you have to tighten your arms around his neck. You kick and bite and scratch where you can, screaming up a storm. 

You and the robber tumble to the ground as he loses his balance, and you roll around so that he’s face down and you’re sitting right in the middle of his back, facing Angel at the counter. He tries to push you off, but you’ve finally pulled out your pepper spray, so you give him a taste of it to placate him. You huff and puff, trying not to look as much of a mess as you feel. Angel is already on the line with 9-1-1, and he shakes his head as you stare up at him. 

“Man, you’re fucking crazy. You sure you’re not one of those circus freaks that are always swingin’ around this city?”

You laugh. “If I was, I think that would have looked a lot cooler.”

The bell rings as the front door is pushed open. You can hear heavy boots stomping your way. 

“Wow. GCPD actually showed up to an emergency, and we didn’t have to wait an hour. Got any lottery tickets for me, Angel?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” a strangely familiar voice says.

You turn your head. Of all the vigilantes to intercept this call on the police radio, it had to be Red Hood. Goodbye to that lottery ticket.

“Oh. Hey,” you try for a casual greeting. Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

“Was I talking to the air when I told you to stay out of trouble? Or are you crazy?” He walks around so that he’s right in front of you. He disarms the robber’s gun and tucks it away in a quick movement. He crosses his arms, and even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s disappointed in you.

“That is not fair, man. I didn’t ask the universe to put me right in the middle of a robbery. Do you think I do this to myself for fun?” You’re still sitting on top of a pepper sprayed robber, so you don’t exactly sound sane right now. 

He extends a hand down to you, and you take it. You let him pull you off the guy, and Red Hood is quick to handcuff his arms behind his back, leaving him on the ground to groan and moan about your roughness. 

You peer up at Red Hood. “Look, I wasn’t just gonna sit back and let him rob the place. Also, he was taking change. Do you know how stupid that is? I really don’t think he was going to do serious damage.”

You don’t wait for his response, grabbing the microwave dinner, the can of Arizona, and a few snacks that you had left on the ground and placing them on the counter for Angel to ring up. You drop a few crumpled bills on the counter to pay, but before you can grab your things and head out, Angel stops you.

“You’re short a dollar seventy-five.”

You look down at the counter and wince. “C’mon, Angel, cut me some slack here. I just saved your ass.”

He snorts. “You call that saving? You looked like a cat getting sprayed with water. Besides, I’m already gonna be on thin ice from this, I don’t need to give my boss any other reason to nag me. Sorry, kid.”

You groan and dig through your bag for some more change. You grin when you find a handful of quarters in a pocket, but a very muscled arm reaches in front of you as Red Hood places a folded 5 dollar bill on the counter.

You open your mouth to thank him, but he grabs the plastic bag that Angel has placed your things in and guides you out of the bodega. 

“It was nice knowing you, kid,” Angel calls out as you leave. Very funny.

“It doesn’t matter if you thought he wasn’t gonna hurt you. You can’t throw yourself into danger based on what you think someone will do. Especially not in Gotham.”

He hands you the plastic bag, and you take it hesitantly. “Isn’t that hypocritical, though? You jump into trouble all the time.”

He shakes his head. “I’m trained, and I know what I’m getting into. You either have a death wish, or you think none of this can touch you.”

“I…,” you trail off, not sure what he wants you to say. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to wait for the GCPD to do something. I just knew that if I didn’t do anything, it would be my fault if Angel got hurt.”

Red Hood’s shoulders drop, and he lets out a soft sigh. “It’s not your fault when people like that do what they do. Just…don’t put yourself on the line like that. That’s what I’m here for.”

You laugh. “Well, you can’t exactly be everywhere, can you?”

“You never know. C’mon, let me take you home.”

You let out a low whistle. “Woah, how ‘bout you buy me a drink first?”

But you tell him your address anyways, and he walks with you the whole way back. You spare glances at him every now and then, straightening your head forward when he catches your eye.

“So,” you start, unable to stand the silence, “why do you do this? I can’t imagine it pays well to run around in spandex.”

He snorts. “First of all, I don’t wear spandex, I’m not a freak. I’m…I’m not the kind of person you think I am.”

You roll your eyes. “This is where you tell me you’re a dark soul and you hurt everything you touch. I’ve had enough ex-boyfriends, I don’t need that speech from you too.”

“This isn’t a joke. I’m not a good person. I don’t do this because I think I can change Gotham. Everything I do is out of anger and spite.”

You shrug off his words. “Well, yeah, I did report on your…debut as Red Hood. It was pretty fucked up. But I also wrote about your impact on Crime Alley. I’ve interviewed people that live there and in other parts of Gotham that rich assholes won’t go near. Whether you like it or not, people do look up to you. We—they see you as a symbol.”

Red Hood stares at you, shaking his head. “A symbol of what? That murder is always the answer?”

“That we can—should fight back. Maybe not to such extremes, but you’ve shown us that we don’t have to roll over and beg when rich men tell us to. I think that counts for something.”

“I don’t know if you're the best judge of character, trouble. Not if you think there’s any good in me.”

Your face scrunches up. “Trouble?”

He laughs. “That’s what you are. I think it's a fitting name.”

You grumble, but you can’t exactly argue against his point. You get to your apartment building then, and you turn to Red Hood one last time. “Thank you for walking me home. I’ll try not to run into any burning buildings or chase after cats in trees.”

He nods in approval. “That’s a good start. Let me see your phone.”

You comply, and he spends a few minutes on it before handing it back. “I added a number you can reach me at. It's a secure line, but if you share it with anyone I will know.”

“Oh, you like me so much you had to give me your number, huh?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing tone. “If you think you’re about to do something stupid that I’ll yell at you for, just call or send me a text, and I’ll handle it, okay?”

You blink up at him. His shoulders are tense, and you get the feeling that he’s being very vulnerable right now. “Thank you. I’ll be sure not to abuse it.”

You scurry off into your apartment building, clutching your phone like a lifeline.

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

A part of you hopes that you never have to contact him, but this is Gotham and you’re a journalist. Without intending to, you sniff out trouble like a bloodhound. You keep your messages to Red Hood as professional and concise as possible, laying out just the most basic information so that he doesn’t get annoyed with you. And you know he takes everything you say seriously, because you either write or hear about his activities all the time. 

It makes you happy to know that he takes your words and your concerns seriously. You haven’t had a lot of that all your life. 

Over time, your messages to Red Hood allow yourself to get more casual with how you message Red Hood, and as the months go by, you get to know him a bit better. His favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, though Frankenstein is a close second. He grew up in Gotham, and he’s spent almost all his life here. And the most surprising thing you’ve learned is that he likes to cook. You’d learned that accidentally. 

The first time he’d returned to your apartment since your initial meeting, he was injured and he’d hesitantly asked if you could help patch him up. After making sure he wasn’t going to die on you, you were reluctant to say goodbye. You’d just finished making your first actual meal all week, and you invited him to join you. You hadn’t expected him to say yes, but you’re glad he did. Because now, he stops by to make dinner with you every now and then. He still occasionally stops by for the purpose of getting your subpar medical attention, but most of his visits are specifically so that he can hang out with you. Red Hood might deny it, but the two of you are friends now.

You tell yourself that you’re friends, at least, because sometimes you don’t think you can chalk up how you feel about him as platonic. You stare at him far longer than is polite, but he doesn’t ever make fun of you when he catches your eye. And sometimes, he sits or stands so close that you think he might lean a little bit closer, before he realizes your proximity and pulls back.

You never thought you’d ever be close to one of Gotham’s vigilantes, least of all Red Hood. But despite all of his self-loathing, you see the sweetness that he hides under all that gruffness. He cares so much about this city, and it kind of scares you to see how much of his heart is laid out so plainly. To you, his anger and violence are evidence of how much he cares.

It makes you feel more guilty for what you’re about to do. You can’t get his face out of your head as you research and plan your current story.

You’ve heard chatter about something that the power-hungry billionaire Max Shreck is planning. It’s been very tight-lipped, especially to someone like you who is so far removed from what concerns Gotham’s elite. But you’re good at blending into backgrounds unnoticed, and billionaires sure get talkative at all the galas and charity events they attend. It sounds exactly like the kind of scheme that Red Hood would tell you to stay away from. If you bothered to tell him the hole you were digging yourself into. 

You should tell him what you’ve heard—that Shreck is working with the Penguin to drain Gotham dry. You don’t know enough about what they’re planning, but you know it will hurt regular Gothamites the most before it touches the rich parts of this city. And Red Hood would definitely take your concern seriously if you told me. But he would never in a million years let you be involved, and you won’t be able to walk away from this without doing something to help. People like Shreck are the reason why your childhood was so unstable, and you don’t want to stand by and let it happen again. 

Shreck visits the Iceberg Lounge every Thursday evening, and tonight is as perfect an opportunity as ever. Red Hood is busy dealing with an outburst from Condiment King, so you’re not worried about getting caught. 

The queue to get into the Lounge is long, and by the time you get to the front, your shoulders are shaking anxiously. You straighten out when the bouncer gives you a look over.

“Sorry, can’t let you in tonight,” the man says dismissively.

You falter for a moment before putting on your best condescending glare. “You can’t be serious. Do you know who I am? The Valestra family supports your boss quite generously, and I would hate to weaken our ties.”

But the bouncer just shakes his head. “I understand. But there’s business to be taken care of tonight at the Lounge, and we can’t let just anyone in.”

You gasp. “Just anyone? Who do you think you are? This is utterly ridiculous, and I–”

There’s an arm around your shoulder, and it distracts you enough that your entitled rant trails off unfinished. You stare at the man that has joined your side. He looks familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize that this is Thomas Elliot, the head of one of Gotham’s richest families.

“This is my guest for the night,” he says smoothly, pulling you closer to his side and walking through the entrance. He doesn’t even wait for the bouncer to let him in, he just…does what he wants. Is it that easy for people like him?

He gives you a sideways glance and a vicious grin. “You’re a pretty little thing aren’t you? Valestra, you say? Are you one of Salvatore’s pups?”

It takes everything in you not to shrivel at his words. “Third cousin actually. Sal promised me I’d have a grand time at the Lounge, and he said I must try the drinks here. If you’ll excuse me, I want to–”

The hand at your shoulder holds you close. “No need. I’ll get us a table, and the help will bring it to us. Come.”

He all but drags you to a table with velvet-cushioned seats. You curse your terrible luck for leading you right into deep shit, again. You look around for an exit from this ego-inflated idiot, but everyone is so wrapped up in their own worlds. You can see Shreck standing on the mezzanine above, having a very intense discussion with Cobblepot himself. You look away before they can notice you. 

Elliot draps a soft hand over your own as you wait for a waiter to bring over some drinks. “So tell me, dear, do you live in Gotham?

You laugh as obnoxiously as possible. “Oh, please, I wouldn’t be caught dead living in this rat-infested city. No offense, darling. I have a penthouse in Metropolis. I’d much rather be home, but you know how it is with Sal.”

He nods absentmindedly. “Hm, yes. Valestra has always been a sentimental man hasn’t he? I can’t blame you for not wanting to stay in Gotham. It's good land, yes, but as you said the rats make it so hard to enjoy it. Always complaining about their lives as if they haven’t dirtied the streets with their crimes. It’s disgusting, what they’ve done to this city.”

Your fist clenches under the table. Your vision goes white with anger, but you let out a breath to calm yourself down. You try to laugh with him, but it comes out half-hearted. Thank god, your drinks arrive, and you immediately lift the flute to your lips.

Elliot leans forward, running his finger along the rim of his glass of whiskey. “You know, you might actually be able to move back to Gotham soon.”

You smell an opportunity. “Oh? How so?”

He glances up at the pair still talking on the mezzanine. “I shouldn’t tell you, but…Salvatore’s a friend. Shreck’s investing in a pipeline through Gotham. It’ll get us a lot of money. And all those rats?” He chuckles.

He leans in closer, a weird, sultry tone in his voice. “They’ll do what they do best, and scurry far, far away. It’ll be impossible for them to afford even an inch of this city. Gotham will go back to what it was meant to be.”

Your heart thrums. You know that Elliot’s view is very misguided, because this city could never thrive without the working class. And with Arkham so out of control nowadays, landlords couldn’t afford to raise their prices. 

Still, building a pipeline through Gotham is worrisome, especially with all the toxic waste that has already been pumped into this city by the Joker and Scarecrow. The city couldn’t survive another biohazardous disaster. You need to know more if you’re going to tell Red Hood.

“Oh, that’s a relief. So this pipeline…”

You don’t continue, because a large shadow dwarfs your figure. You don’t know if you should be relieved or worried to see Red Hood standing over your table, beefy arms crossed over his chest in intimidation.

“Hood–”

“We’re leaving. Now.” He is pissed. So, worried it is.

Elliot tries to stop him, but he doesn’t stand a chance. Red Hood nudges you out of your seat. Before Elliot can protest, he places a gloved hand between your shoulder blades and guides you through the busy room until you’re out through a side door.

You try to say something, but you can feel his seething look through his mask as he holds a hand up and jerks his head towards his bike. He tosses a helmet to you, and you climb on behind him after securing it to your head. The entire ride is silent, and you know you're in for a lecture. But your mind is still so focused on what Elliot had told you. 

Red Hood lets you brew in your thoughts until he’s led you up into your apartment.

“What,” he seethes, “the hell were you thinking. Scratch that—clearly you weren’t thinking, because you were in the Iceberg Lounge. Are you serious? Is this what you call staying out of trouble?”

You try to calm him. “Hood, come on. I was fine.”

“Fine? The Penguin was there tonight. If he knew you snuck your way in—if he knew why you were there—he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you. And if I hadn’t been there–” he cuts himself off to shudder out a breath.

“This is my job, Hood. You can’t ask me not to follow a lead like this! The people need to know this, and if I can get it published in the Gazette–”

“No. You’re done. I tried to guide you away, but clearly you’re not going to stop. You will never stop putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I? I must be doing okay.”

He stares at you in disbelief. “And how long are you going to be okay when you’re acting like this? Do you know what they’ll do to you if you publish that story? They will find you, and they will tear you apart. I can’t lose you!”

You try to shrug off his confession. “This is my choice, Hood. You do what you do because you want to help people, and this is how I help people. You can't ask me to stop.”

He hesitates for a moment. “You’re right, I can’t ask you to stop. But I can make you, if you’re fired.”

You recoil, like he’d slapped you. “What? You can’t do that.”

He can’t even look you in the eye. “Wayne Enterprise owns the Gazette, and Bruce Wayne happens to owe me a favor. I can. But I don’t want to do that. I’m begging you to drop the story, to stop putting yourself in danger. Or I’ll be forced to make you stop. Please.”

You scoff. “Get out of my apartment.”

He calls out your name softly, taking a step closer to you. 

“Get the fuck out! Or I’ll call the police and tell them you broke in.”

“Thought you said the GCPD is useless.”

“They are, but I’m sure there are a few vigilantes who want to bring you in. You’re still a criminal.”

His hands hover before him, and he clenches his fists tight at your words. You hate to even say something like this to him, but you want him to leave, and this is the only way you can think to make him. 

He walks over to your window, pulling it open in a quick motion. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Please just tell me you’ll drop the story.”

You turn away from him to hide your tears. “I never want to see you again.”

He doesn’t say anything. When you turn back, the window is sealed shut and he's nowhere to be seen. It's like he was never here.

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

GOTHAM, NJ — The Martha Foundation raises a startling 3.5 billion dollars at last week’s charity gala. Mr. Bruce Wayne, the Foundation’s primary benefactor, has spoken with the Gazette about where these funds will be invested. Notably, a large portion will be used to repair the Gotham Public Library, which was destroyed in a recent explosion that has left all of Gotham shaken. While authorities have yet to confirm the source of the explosion, rumors indicate that

You groan and backspace the entire paragraph. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Everyone knows who caused the explosion, but you can’t go around accusing people in the paper, not unless you want your head on a stick. Red Hood was right, you just can’t stop looking for trouble, can you? 

The thought of the masked man makes you lean down and press your forehead against your desk. You haven’t seen him since you kicked him out of your apartment, and you can feel the loss of his presence. You can feel the pang in your heart every time you think of him and remember how you ended things. You know you don’t have the right to, because you were the one to push him away. Still, it hurts to think of him, and you want nothing more than to see him again. Maybe you’re petty for not seeking him out, but you can’t bring yourself to call him. Next week, you promise yourself. Next week, you’ll apologize and promise not to do anything stupid ever again. 

When you spare a glance at your computer’s clock, you realize just how late it is. Your work day should have ended an hour ago, but here you are, wrapped in your thoughts. You save the scrap of a story that you’re working on and shut off the dingy computer. You’ll just work on it tomorrow. Or rather, you’ll write and rewrite it a million times over tomorrow. 

The streets of Gotham are strangely empty right now. Sure, people usually stay in when it gets dark earlier, but its especially quiet. It feels like the city is holding its breath as it waits for the ball to drop, and you don’t want to be out when that happens. After living in Gotham all your life, a person gets to know when something is undeniably wrong.

You don’t notice the men following you until you’re a few blocks away from your apartment. You knew, you knew something wasn’t right. And yet here you are, alone in Gotham at night. You ignore the sound of their fast approaching boots, staring straight ahead. But another man is walking in your direction, staring right at you. They pinch you in on either side, forcing you to stop at the lip of an alleyway. You know they’re from the Penguin. You’re sure you’ve been on his radar since Red Hood had to pull you out of the Iceberg Lounge, but also the penguin themed ski-masks kind of give it away. You hope it's not the last thing you see before you die, because that would really suck. 

You weigh your options really quickly. You wonder if you can make a quick escape. But a scan over the men surrounding you makes it clear that there is no way you can take a single step without getting shot in the back of the head.

“Hey, fellas. I’ve had a really long day, so if I could just be on my way–”

They step even closer. The man in front smiles at you with cruelty in his eyes. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice about messing with the Penguin.”

Before you can think, say, or do anything, he shoots you right in the stomach. You gasp involuntarily, as if surprised that a bullet was actually able to hurt you. It's a sharp pain that starts suddenly and then just doesn’t stop. You press your hand to your stomach, flinching at the contact your hand makes with sticky, hot blood. 

One of the men kicks the back of your ankles, sending you down to your knees. You wheeze, staring up as the man in front steps closer. 

He snorts. “Let’s see if your Big Bad Wolf can save you this time.”

You don’t want to just sit here and take this. You want to scream, kick, or curse them to hell and back. But it’s too late. They’re gone, and you’re bleeding out in an alley of Gotham.

Your brain scrambles up enough energy not to give up right away. What had the man said about a wolf? No, not any wolf—your wolf. Your Red Hood. You pull out your phone, trying to ignore how badly your hands shake. You find his contact on autopilot, heart clenching at the contact photo you have set of his brooding mask.

It rings once. You worry for a moment that Red Hood won’t answer, that he’ll ignore you like you did him. But he picks up after the first ring.

“Trouble?” You hate to hear the hope in his voice. You hate that you’re going to rip it away from him again.

“Red,” you say, trying not to choke on your own breath, “I need you. I can’t–”

You squeeze your eyes, trying desperately to block out your fatigue. You don’t want him to notice your pain. But of course he hears it.

“I’m coming. Where are you?”

You try to remember what street you were on, but all sense of logic has slipped your mind. You sob out, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, I’ll find you, just hold on for me, okay?” His voice calms you, and you lean back against the wall. You vaguely register that he’s speaking again, but not to you. You can tell, because his voice is now erratic and demanding.

After a moment, his voice returns to its soothing rasp. “Okay, I have your location. I’m only a few minutes away. Can you talk to me? I need to hear your voice.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you over the phone. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a pause on the other side before he says, “Don’t. Don’t apologize.”

“But you were right, I should have listened to you. I was too stubborn.”

“Then apologize when you see me.”

“I miss you.” The blood loss must really be getting to you, if you’re admitting something like that so easily. But you do miss him. You wasted so much time being stupid, and you regret it so much.

“I’m almost there. Please stop talking like you’re gonna die. You’re going to be fine, you hear me?” He sounds so confident, and you desperately want to believe him.

You press your head back against the brick wall behind you. A light drizzle of rain paints your face, and you shut your eyes and pretend that nothing is wrong and that you’re not scared that Red Hood won’t come.

You don’t wait long, and it feels like only a second before a gloved hand is cupping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, and you stare into familiar, blank eyes. Red Hood is crouched down in front of you, staring right at the hole in your stomach.

You cough, which only causes you to hack up more blood. You wince as it splatters all over Red Hood’s mask.

“S-sorry,” you gasp out. You reach a shaky hand out to wipe away the blood, but you’d forgotten the small fact that your blood is already stained on your hand. You end up spreading more blood over his mask. It makes you want to cry. “Fuck. ‘M sorry.”

You pull your hand away so that you don’t make even more of a mess, but Red Hood grasps your hand in his, keeping your palm pressed against his cheek.

“Don’t you dare apologize, trouble. EMS is en route, can you just keep your eyes on me?”

You shudder out a breath, but do your best to nod. “Please don’t leave. Don’t wanna die alone.”

You can feel his grip tighten. “You’re not going to die, I’m not gonna let that happen.”

The fervor in his voice makes you smile. “You’re my favorite person, Red.”

He dips his head low for a moment. Then, he does something you never thought you’d see. He unclasps his half-mask and lays it beside him. Next goes his domino mask. You study his face, brows furrowing at the pain in his eyes.

“My name is Jason,” he says softly, and the sound of his voice without the modular voice-changer makes you shiver. How you have the time to be lovesick as you’re bleeding out, you’ll never understand.

“Jason,” you repeat, trying the name on your tongue. “Thank you. I’ll take your secret to the grave.”

Your eyes crinkle at your own terribly-timed joke, but you regret it when his face falls apart in anguish. It is worse, to be able to see him laid out before you like this.

He shudders a breath and leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry.”

You run your palm over his smooth cheek, brushing your fingers against an oddly shaped scar that cuts into his lips. “It’s not your fault, Jason. You were right. There’s so much in my life that I wish I could change. But meeting you? I wouldn’t change that, even if it kills me. You are–”

You cough weakly. You’re so tired, and your body is begging you to shut down, to give up. But Jason asked you to stay focused on him, and you don’t want to take your eyes away from him. “You are the best thing that has happened to me.”

Tears flood your eyes. The thought of leaving Jason all alone makes your heart clench.

“Hey, sweetheart, look at me, okay?”

Your eyes readjust, finding his face back in your view. You hadn’t even noticed that your head had dropped. You feel the fight in your body drain. Your hand flails out in desperation. “Jay–”

He takes your hand in his carefully. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

When you don’t respond, he cups your cheek in his strong hand. “C’mon, talk to me. What was that book you were telling me about last month?”

He searches your eyes desperately. Your face has gone blank, and your eyes have glazed over.

“No. Sweetheart, please look at me. Please.”

He cradles your face between both of his hands before pulling you into his chest. He sobs without caring if anyone will see him like this, on his knees and hunched over your limp body. He mutters apologies into your hair, running a careful hand over your back. 

He can hear his earpiece crackle to life, and Babs starts speaking on the other line. “Red Hood? EMS is nearing your location now.”

He lays you gently against the concrete, making sure the back of your head doesn’t hit the ground harshly. He stands and retrieves his domino and half-mask shakily, making sure they’re secure before addressing Babs. “Oracle,” he gasps out. “Tell EMS it's a 10-45D. The coroner…the coroner needs to be here.”

Her keyboard stops clacking. “Ja–Red Hood? Are you…should I call in Nightwing? I’m going to–”

Jason turns his comm off. He knows she means well, but Jason cannot listen to her right now. He doesn't want anyone to see or speak to him. He just wants you. He kicks a discarded bottle of booze further down the alley, causing a pack of rats to scurry away. He screams into the air. He doesn’t care that it won’t achieve anything. 

Jason sinks to his knees beside your body. “I told you to stay out of trouble,” he says weakly.

There’s no comeback from you this time.

──────────𝜗𝜚──────────

[missglaskin]

Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons

AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers

Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon

Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers

You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.

Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.

Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 

They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.

Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.

As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 

Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.

While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.

Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.

Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.

That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.

They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.

Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.

Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.

Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.

Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.

Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 

The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 

A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.

Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.

A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.

Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.

Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 

As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.

It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 

The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 

Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

What are your thoughts about Frank Langdon? Any interpretations of his canon character, any headcanons you really like, etc.? What kind of boyfriend (or husband) do you think he is? Just, y'know, what do you think about him haha

(I guess this could be a request for a Frank Langdon x Reader imagine?)

Frank Langdon Headcanons

main masterlist | the pitt masterlist

summary: some frank langdon headcannons i thought up.

pairing: dr. frank langdon x female wife!reader

rating: PG-13 

word count: 0.4k

warnings: none

timeline: an au where s1e10 never happened <3

author’s note: frank is so adorable and funny and i quite literally squealed with joy when i got this request. (the imagine part is on the way btw <3). also, i’ve only seen the show twice, so sorry if some of the facts about langdon aren’t canon, I tried my best.

I think Frank Langdon is the perfect husband.

Yes, he has his flaws but your love for each other is strong af and you two can overcome anything.

I think he’s the type of guy to bring home flowers just because he missed you at work and wanted to see you smile.

He would definitely bring home chocolates and flowers after realizing the puppy might have been a bad idea.

But you obviously love the puppy so there was really no need for his romantic gesture.

Your first date would’ve been shortly after he met you through a mutual friend.

He took you to a fancy restaurant and you two hit it off instantly.

It was like you’d known him for years and you two couldn’t get enough of each other.

Your second date would be a little more chill, maybe bowling or an arcade as you got to know each other more.

The more you got to know him the more you realized what a perfect match you were.

His jokes made you laugh, and that in itself would bring a smile to Langdon’s face.

The first time he said “I love you” it kind of just slipped out and he was so relieved to hear you say it back.

The night he proposed, he brought you to the same restaurant as your first date.

He didn’t propose there though – too many people, and he knew you liked your privacy.

You two went on a walk in the park afterward, your feet ached a little from the heels but you were too in love to care.

He got down on one knee when you reached the park bench where you first said “I love you” and you were quick to say yes.

And the rest was history.

He treasured every moment with you.

When you were pregnant with Tanner he was beyond helpful

Him being a doctor really came in handy and he waited on you hand and foot, even though you told him you were fine on your own.

I think Frank Langdon would be terrified to be a dad at first but the second he held his son in his arms all his fears would dissipate. 

He’d take time from work while you were postpartum just so he could be close to both of you

In summary, Frank Langdon is an incredible husband.

And we’re pretending episode 10 ended differently.

[lvmimis]

cw: teacher!prohero!izuku and prohero!reader with a healing quirk. accidental injury of a student. mostly just banter.

Izuku can sense your annoyance from the door but walks in anyway to the UA nurse’s office, thirty minutes after the close of classes for the day, as is your arrangement any time you work part-time at the school. (He’d argue that it’s an unnecessary precaution because he talks about you enough that his kids are well aware and quite partial to your relationship, but you can’t help the embarrassment when you’re spotted by his unofficial student fanclub.)

You’re still typing up today’s documentation from the kids you saw today - more than usual given the nature of today’s training exercise - and when he approaches, closing the door before carefully offering you a kiss on the cheek from behind, you turn to him with narrowed eyes and he knows he’s in for it.

“Sit.”

He sighs, dropping himself onto the nearest made bed and folds his hands in his lap. You type the last of your notes and save them, then swivel around in your chair. Once your eyes meet, he’s pouting, and part of you immediately wants to pull back, but stubborn as you are, you persist with your less than satisfied glare, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, there was no way for me to know that kid would pull such a desperate move!” Izuku immediately defends himself animatedly. “We gave them clear instructions to either flee or fight, and they should know better not to fight a pro, and I truly did not mean to hold on that tight, plus it’s not like I don’t feel bad, I felt terrible! But the villains will not feel terrible for one second so it’s not like it’s a bad lesson to learn-”

Your hand goes up to motion dramatically for him to save it and Izuku stops immediately, then sighs again, before letting his body hang back and rest on the bed. You don’t nag that often, but when you do, it’s incessant and worse because you’re often right the whole way through. 

The move in question had happened during the classic 2 student vs 1 teacher fight, an event you remember clearly yourself from your days at UA and weren’t particularly a fan of. The kids, understandably, were excited to go up against their teachers and this iteration would include Pro Heroes from the golden class of yore, 1A, as substitute teachers and thus was quite the event. Naturally, this was a good day for you to substitute as a school nurse as well.

One of the students had tried to make a sudden dash for it on the left side while trying to escape Izuku’s grip on their arm, and Izuku, slightly distracted while prompting the other terrified student to think carefully about their next move, had not budged or known to let go, which led to a prompt shoulder dislocation.

In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t terrible. Izuku let go immediately at the kid’s shriek, the other proctors had rushed in to bring the kid to you, but you weren’t enthused by the situation, not one bit. 

“You know, I expected this sort of nonsense from Bakugou, but you?”

Izuku nods, then becomes pensive as he rubs his chin with his hands. “To be honest, I’m quite impressed with the fact that not one of his opponents got singed more than a hair, but I also think his kids employed a far better strategy than mine, considering that they seemed to suggest they were going to fight upfront and then immediately feinted into an escape that fooled him - that being said I think part of that might have been Kacchan’s assumption that the kids would try to fight him to prove themselves and that worked to their advantage, but notwithstanding the fact that he was quite careful with them and chose a far less physical approach, although-”

You’re up on your feet, pulling on both of his cheeks before he can keep talking.

“The point here is not to be praising ‘Kacchan’, it’s that you HAVE to be more careful with these kids! What if they’d lost that arm?!”

He pouts again, and the second time works and you unwittingly soften.

As much as you’re conservative about injury, this is a Hero school, the same place where Izuku practically lost the use of his own arms out of his own recklessness time and time again while on campus. Sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him finally, you let out a sigh that’s only partially defeated.

He won’t call you too sensitive, but the truth is you are. 

“I’ll be more careful next time,” he promises you. “It’s still a learning environment and the kids should be safe no matter what.” With that, he reaches for your hand, then presses the back to his lips which brings a smile to your face.

You exhale.

“Do you remember when you and Katsuki fought All Might?”

Izuku blinks for a moment as recollection bubbles into his subconscious.

“Oh, yes.”

“That day I was so upset but I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say to him. You’re both laid back now, staring at the ceiling and as your hands remain interlaced, you’re transported back to high school.

He chuckles.

“Why? Because I was getting my butt kicked?” 

You laugh under your breath.

“All I could think of was ‘why is a practical god fighting us, we’re just kids?’”

Izuku laughs harder this time, then turns to face you. Cupping a hand on your face, he leans in and whispers,

“Do you think we’re the gods now?”

There’s a hint of amusement, but also the faintest whiff of melancholy, easily missed if not for the fact that you’ve watched him so carefully all these years.

You can hear the effect of slow near complete recovery of a Quirk, several Quirks, that were once much too much to bear, the far too heavy weight once on his shoulders, relieved now by the help of friends and loved ones, emotional scars that have healed over but run deeper than the ones your fingertips slowly glide over whenever you hold him close.

“I like being human, personally,” you whisper back. There’s a wistfulness in his green eyes as he takes your statement to heart.

“Me too.”

He kisses your forehead, then the two of you quickly remember where you are, then rise to your feet.

“Let’s go now?” he asks, swinging your work bag over his shoulder and reaching his hand out for yours.

You take it gingerly and he raises an eyebrow.

“Gotta make sure I don’t make any sudden moves, you know,” you tease, and he scrunches his eyebrows at you.

“Mean.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs as you leave the campus grounds to make it home together.

[absolutedestinyapocalypsse]

When Harrow is very obviously grieving, (and also when he wants to gaslight her) John tells her to make soup about it, to focus on the little things, to take it day by day. When asked to help with the lobotomy, Ianthe tells Harrow that the worst is over- she's a lyctor now, and she should try and move forward instead of sticking herself permanently in limbo. These are not terrible pieces of advice to give a grieving person; if actually practiced, they might even be helpful. Except for Harrow, they are the absolute worst things you could possibly say.

None of what happened to her should have happened, of course she doesn't want to accept it and progress further into lyctorhood. Everything is terrifying and new to her, of course she won't find peace in "the little things". John is actively trying to fucking KILL HER, of course SOUP isn't going to help! Like obviously the general grief advice isn't gonna work for Harrow because she's in a psychological horror book and is being haunted and is grieving jesus christ herself, but also, does it really work that well ever? Does being told to move on actually ever in any circumstance help the person move on? Or does it just make them feel more broken, more inadequate, more lonely?

Sure, focusing on little things that give you joy and trying not to ruminate on the past are on paper productive ways to cope, but its also the LAST thing a grieving person actually wants to do. Telling someone to simply forget about what they went through and who they lost, to just focus on the boring and isolating minutae of everyday life instead of the world-ending tragedy they've experienced feels impossible. To do it would be like betraying yourself, and the people you lost.

Most of the book is Harrow knowing that certain things would probably make her feel better if she would just try, being told constantly that if she would just do x y or z, things would fall into place and she would be less broken. She doesn't even remember WHY she feels like this, but she does, and it's all-consuming. Lyctorhood is the scale by which her "normality" is measured, and she is failing SPECTACULARLY. She refuses to set aside Gideon's humanity and significance in her life to use her as a battery, and that makes her weak and a failure in the eyes of the other saints.

But by failing to move on, she ends up actually preserving (??? who actually knows man) Gideon's life. For the classic grief advice to not only be unhelpful to her personally also ACTIVELY MALICIOUS/ HARMFUL PLOT WISE is such a great 180 to me. Instead of a "grieving character comes to terms with loved one's death for the Greater Good and moves on because its the Right Thing To Do" narrative, we get a kind of bereavement revenge fantasy. Harrow's complete refusal to move on stops Gideon from actually fully dying. And she does makes soup, not to cope with the constant terror she's living under, but to EXPLODE her tormentor from the inside out. These things probably aren't "good" for Harrow, or for anyone dealing with grief. They do not make life easier for her, and they do not make her a lyctor, but they are honest and they are SO satisfying. Having the power to bring back the person you lost, even at great personal detriment and to explode everyone who hurt you with your mind is i think the perfect power for someone in mourning and i love that htn let Harrow have it. There is no greater good to be served, no larger moral about loss to be told. The objective is not to see Harrow heal from loss, it's to see her by sheer determination and force of will, refuse to fucking lose.

[kxsagi]

HIHI its totally okay if u don't wanna do this but could u write smth w the bluelock men (esp isagi🤭) with a gf who's really into driving/cars ?? if u want ofc <3 i love ur works sm u do such a good job 🫶😛 luh u stink

“𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 (𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭)”

a/n: i fear this request was meant to be because i LOVE driving and i am getting into cars more (tokyo drift did something to me when i watched it)

i hope it's okay that this is more like a street racer! reader 🌚

ft. itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei

itoshi sae

sae is too calm about it. you casually mention you’re into underground meets and he just blinks at you like, “okay. so?”

shows up to a race like it’s just another tuesday. you drift around a corner like you’re trying to erase tire marks from the earth itself and he’s like “mmm, clean execution.”

you’d think he wouldn’t care, but plot twist: he actually knows a lot about cars. he just never mentioned it because it “never came up.”

gets behind the wheel once and you realize this man drives like he’s in F1. the smoothest, most terrifyingly precise driver ever. he’d win a race and then be like, “i still prefer walking.”

100% that guy who brings snacks to a street race and just watches everything unfold like it’s your job to cause chaos. “text me when you’re done destroying their egos.”

isagi yoichi

isagi’s first thought: “wait, you’re into what?” he barely manages to get soccer right, so cars are a whole other language to him. he's confused, but also intrigued. 

"underground car meets? babe, are you sure you’re not just watching fast & furious too much?" but he gets roped into going to one with you anyway because of course he would. when you drive like a pro on the streets, he’s in pure shock. 

“woah, wait, you just... did that with your car?!” you turn into the drift queen and he’s over here clutching the seat like a terrified puppy. you finish, and he's still trying to process what just happened. “i swear i just saw my life flash before my eyes.” 

secretly, he tries to race you. and then immediately regrets it. like, the second you pull ahead, he’s just vibrating with stress, but he can’t quit. he can’t lose! spoiler: he loses. badly. 

you catch him watching car videos on his phone later, probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened in your race. "you... you're really good at this, huh?"

itoshi rin

rin’s first reaction: “wait, underground car meets? what the hell is that? sounds like the worst idea ever.” he’s all for precision and control, and this just seems like a mess. 

but, of course, he goes anyway because he’s your boyfriend, and if you’re into it, he’s going to support it. he doesn’t get the appeal, but when he sees you pull off a perfect drift, his jaw might as well hit the floor. “wait, what? how do you do that?” 

deep down, he respects your skills. “you’re insane,” he mutters, trying to act aloof but totally impressed. 

tries to drive your car once and gets way too stressed about it. “okay, nope. this is way too fast. i need a break.” while you’re cruising through corners like you’ve done this your whole life, rin’s over here barely holding it together. he's definitely not ready to race. 

every time you mention another meet, rin sighs, “i don’t know why i let you drag me into these things. but... i’ll still watch you destroy everyone.”

kaiser michael

“wait, hold on. so, you race cars and are a badass at it? no way.” kaiser’s already thinking of a million ways to turn this into his own personal highlight reel. to him, you're like the perfect mix of edgy and cool. 

when you invite him to a meet, he acts like he’s the king of the car world. but the second he sees you behind the wheel, it’s over – you’re the real star here. and he’s the one overcompensating with a flashy, dramatic entrance like “did you see me? no? let me just adjust my hair for effect.” 

after your race, he might try to act like a pro, but he’s more of a show-off who crashes than an actual racer. meanwhile, you’re out here drifting like you own the road. “yeah, i meant to do that,” he’ll say when he gets stuck in a corner. it’s a disaster. 

still tries to race you anyway, just to maintain his ego. “i’ll show you, schatz. i’m basically a professional.” spoiler: he’s not. but he does have a ton of confidence, and he’ll keep bragging about how he’s just “warming up.” 

he’s obsessed with watching you race. after losing, he’ll act all cool, but then he’s at your garage pretending to “check out your car” when really, he just wants to see you do it all again.

bachira meguru

bachira is so hyped the moment you mention underground car meets. “wait, wait. YOU race cars?! that’s so sick!” he’s honestly living for the idea of you being a car queen. you’re like a soccer star but cooler in his eyes. when you take him to a meet, he’s literally bouncing around like he’s just seen a soccer goal get scored. “this is insane! you’re insane! look at you go!” it’s all chaos and fun to him. 

then you get behind the wheel and pull off some crazy stunts. he’s watching like a dog watching its owner. “you’re like a real-life drift king, baby! that was unreal!” he’s not even trying to compete; he’s too busy being your #1 hype-man. 

he really wants to try drifting, though, and the first time you hand him the keys? expect the car to go everywhere but the right direction. “oops, that’s not what i meant to do... haha.”

after that disaster, he’ll just casually slide into your car and be like, “let’s go again. i think i’ve got it now.” spoiler: he doesn’t, but he’s having the time of his life. 

nagi seishiro

the moment he sees you drifting through a turn, his brain immediately flashes to all the nights he spent gaming. “oh. it’s just like that one racing game i played for 11 hours straight.” 

he’s leaning back in the seat, arms crossed, and casually goes, “your apex cornering is kinda cracked.” like sir. what. 

now he watches you like a spectator at an e-sports tournament. “you take the inside line there? smart.” “your throttle control’s better than mine.” “wanna try time attack later?” 

gets way too into the idea of customizing your car. “can we make it matte black? with blue LED lights? oh, and a spoiler.” 

doesn’t wanna race you, he just wants to watch you win while eating snacks in your passenger seat like this is a twitch stream. 

shidou ryusei

absolutely frothing at the mouth the moment you mention illegal street racing. “wait, you race? underground? like, tokyo drift style? BAAAABE.” 

the most chaotic hype man you will ever know. yelling out of the car window before you even hit the gas. “KILL THEM. ANNIHILATE THEM. BECOME THE DRIFT GODDESS.” 

tries to race you in his car, which is modded in the dumbest way possible – think glowing decals, anime girl wrap, the loudest exhaust in existence. 

he drives like he’s playing GTA and loses to you in record time. still gets out like he won. “nah nah nah, i let you win. wanted to see that smug look on your face.” 

wants to become your ride-or-die street king and will literally start beef with strangers at meets just to impress you. “say that to her turbo one more time, i dare you.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[vetitiscripta]

some sfw and nsfw headcanons for tpof ren please🦊🙏🏻 instantly fell in love with your writing and craving the foxy dilf

oh anon you’re so sweet, i’m glad you like my writing! AND YOU MAY ABSOLUTELY HAVE DILF REN HEADCANONS I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR THAT MAN I AM BARKING LIKE A DOG

sfw

he lets you run your fingers over his scars, tracing them. if he’s feeling up to it, he’ll even tell you the story behind them

still a big anime fan so on his days off he likes to just relax with you and do anime marathons

since ren lives in different apartments, of course you go with him when he moves locations. he found an apartment by the bunker to stay in while you were recovering. traveling while you have multiple open wounds seems like a hassle so he figured it would just be easier to get a place nearby

YOU ARE SO SPOILED!! anything you want, its yours. you once mentioned how you miss all the games you had and you woke up the next morning to just about every new gaming console under the tv, already plugged in and games loaded on them. sometimes you have to be careful with what you offhandedly mention wanting because he will get it for you (he just likes seeing you happy, he lives for your smile)

once you are trusted with being outside (something that took quite a while for you to earn), he will absolutely take you out and about in town just to A) show you off and B) take you on shopping trips. he 100% has a black card. ANYTHING YOU WANT, YOU GET! that sweater is $1500? sure, get one in every color. you like the glass elephant that is made purely of crystal? it can be a decorative piece on the dining table

despite how spoiled you are, you are not free from being punished. you don’t get punished as much anymore, but at the beginning of your relationship, you defied him, hoping that you could get away (either running away or by death, you didn’t care at that point). ren has been through his fair share of punishments, he’s told you such; he knows how to leave a memorable punishment to help you understand. he’s also not above bringing out the shock collar in case the punishments aren’t enough

but after every punishment, he always cleans you up and cuddles with you, stroking your hair as you cry into his chest. depending on how far in the relationship it is, he can feel bad for punishing you but he knows that it’s to help you behave and understand

before you’re trusted to be left alone in the apartments, he’ll bring you with him to the bunker when he’s streaming. the first time you realized where you were, you almost threw up from the pure panic that spread through you. ren cupped your face and kissed you to help calm you down, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find how absolutely terrified you were adorable. while he’s streaming you are left in the hands of rhino and kangaroo, who you have come to enjoy and consider friends (or at least as close to friends as you can get in your now abnormal life)

ren once considered getting you a pet to keep you company when you’re alone but he quickly discarded the idea due to how jealous he would be. you are his and your full attention should be on him. he might consider something super low maintenance like a goldfish (you would have to beg him for it though because he would still be jealous what a loser)

i personally think that ren would want a family. its not an intense urge he has, not something he thinks about 24/7, but he thinks about it every so often and how nice it would be (he’s also not getting any younger). ren is very fucked up (from both trauma and who he is as a person now) and it might not happen, but he still thinks about it, especially with you. its very cheesy of him to say, but he knows you’re the one. when he’s really going through it and feeling down, he wonders if what you have is real, if you truly love him or if it’s all for show to just survive (you always tell him that if it was just for show you wouldn’t be so willing to be around him and probably would have killed yourself early on babe your stockholm syndrome is showing)

nsfw (under the cut)

cliché but ren likes to bite during sex. he gets rather caught up in the moment and tasting you really gets him going

his heats can be pretty intense. his more clingy side comes out when he’s in heat and he will not leave you alone. from the moment you wake up until you fall asleep for the night (if you sleep during his heat), he has you in different positions and his dick is always inside you. even if you have to get up for something, he is following you, basically piggybacking you with how close he is

while you probably don’t appear in streams anymore, ren will occasionally film you two fucking. he teases you by telling you that you’re live and everyone is watching or that he’ll upload it for his fans later (a lie, you’re for his eyes only now but he does love how flush you get and how you beg him to turn the camera off)

this is already canon but ren loves seeing you in cute, frilly lingerie. there is nothing he loves more than to buy you an expensive lingerie set and have you show it off to him, only for him to rip it off of you within seconds. if he really likes the piece he’ll fuck you in the lingerie and will have you wear it again

phone sex while he’s away. every night he’ll call you just to listen to you get yourself off while he talks you through it. he’s fisting his cock during it as well, but he loves guiding you through it more. he has to make sure you don’t miss him too much. sometimes he’ll cut the call short and will wait for the spam of calls and texts from you as you beg him to call you again so you can cum. if you don’t get to call, he’ll demand you send pictures/videos. anything will do: shirtless pics, videos of you fingering yourself. he keeps everything you send him in a special folder on his phone that he turns to when he needs a quick dose of you

loves teasing you in public. fancy restaurant on the nice end of town? ren has his hand in your pants while the two of you talk over a split dessert (well, he’s talking. you’re trying to not moan out loud in the middle of the restaurant). is not afraid to drag you into an alley and push you to your knees, cock springing out as he tells you to open your mouth. he’s not worried about anyone seeing but if they do he’ll either throw a smirk their way if you’re hidden from their sight or, if you’re not hidden, he’ll remember what they look like and will seek them out later for a ‘friendly chat’ (you are for his eyes only)

BREEDING KINK!!! following my whole ‘ren wants a family’ thing, he def has a breeding kink. even if his intention isn’t to knock you up, he talks like it is. talks about cumming inside you and how good you would look all round and full of his pups. you moan at his words, too drunk on his cock to reply or think about what he’s saying. you’d ask him to cum inside you, begging him to fill you with his cum. he’s also definitely the type to push his cum back into you as it leaks out. (for my ladies: he’ll definitely put a pillow beneath your hips to help the chances if he’s feeling spicy)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Thinking about…Knight!141 AU

Knight!Price is an accomplished knight. He is admired for his chivalry and prowess in battle. He is often the winner at jousting tournaments, and his charm makes many women swoon. But Price is a married man—happily that is. He has everything he could ever want, but there are those that seek what is solely Price's. His liege lord, the man Price has given his oath to, lusts after Price's wife. More and more, Price is called up and sent away for longer periods of time. Price knows why it is happening. His liege lord is attempting to steal her away. After a particularly long campaign, Price returns to his allocated lands only to find his wife gone and his lands in disarray. There is only one person who could have done this, and Price won't stop until he reclaims the woman he loves.

Knight!Soap is the second son of a noble lord, but he wishes he were the third. At least with being third, there are little to no expectations. By being second son, he’s the spare in case his older brother should perish, but is expected to live the life of a knight. To swear fealty and lead his father’s (and then brother’s) army in service of the King. Knighthood is chosen for him. It’s not the bloodshed and warfare that bothers him. It’s the purity of chivalry. His older and younger brother drink in excess and happily bed women that aren’t their wives while he has to uphold all the virtues of the Church. The rules and politeness in battle also bothers him. Running someone through isn’t honorable no matter how you paint it. At the moment, Soap has no way out, but he’s actively looking. Adventure is on the horizon, and he plans to seek it.

Knight!Gaz might be knighted but he’s not the most favored. He is pledged to a noble that appears wealthy but has little money. Gaz has had to earn his own living in whatever ways he can while also staying true to his sworn oath. Gaz came from the peasant class. He was not born into the role. It was through ambition that he moved up to a decent place of standing. While he receives respect, at times it feels more like reluctance from his peers. Yet his liege lord's daughter admires him. She is often the first to speak with him and to inquire about his well-being. It was simple and innocent at first. Now, it isn't. Now, she melts under his touch, and secretly pledges herself to him while tangled in the dark. Gaz is breaking his vow just by being with her, but he can't resist what his heart wants.

Knight!Ghost is respected but feared. While he holds to most of the code of chivalry, he doesn't when it comes to battle and bloodshed. In that, he is terrifying, and many fear facing him at all. Because of this, he is often called upon to take up tasks that many find distasteful. Ghost is happy to do them as it only increases his wealth and standing. When his liege lord calls him up for service, it is to help another noble. Their daughter has been taken while on the road. Held hostage by persons unknown. Ghost's task is to track her down, deliver her to her father, and bring the men responsible to justice. But when he finds her, Ghost is enamored with her. He knows he cannot break his vow to his liege lord, but this woman is alluring to him, and she is just as interested in him.

[missaengg]

Because I Love You...

Pairing: Caleb x f!reader Tags: spoilers for Caleb's main route, angst, mention of drugging, yandere Caleb if you squint Word Count: 851 He'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means becoming the villain in your story. Because he loves you… A/N: Inspired by Homecoming 1-10: Heart's Crossing. Also, I play in Korean so I used oppa instead of gege!

The pills don’t take long to work.

Caleb watches you sleep from the threshold of his – now your – bedroom.

You look serene, lying there asleep in his bed.

Caleb crosses the room, the click of his boots echoing in the silence. Turning down the light, he sighs. It’s just like you to leave it on before going to bed, though he knows why you did – why he had to resort to this.

He sits beside you and pulls the blanket higher on your shoulder, as if it’s something he’s done many times before. On impulse, Caleb starts to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, but hesitates at the last moment, taking your hand instead. He cradles it gently, noting how small and delicate it feels in his large, calloused palm.

“If I kept you here with me like this… Would you think I’m being too selfish?”

He doesn’t hide the longing he feels in his voice. Caleb brings your hand to his forehead, desperate to quell the ache gouging his chest and the regret choking all the air out of his lungs.

“But it’s only us now.”

Caleb closes his eyes, nuzzling your fingers against his brow. He lingers for a moment, a fleeting respite before he returns to selling his soul. He’s not sure what he hopes to find in your touch – comfort or strength? Or, he muses, perhaps what he truly hopes to find is your forgiveness.

Caleb scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping him, laced with self-loathing. He hates who he’s become. He hates that protecting you has led him to this, even though it was necessary.

It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable. He knows that you can handle yourself, that you’re brave and tough. But sometimes you can be so foolish and naive, it terrifies him. It shakes him to his core to know that one day, you might not make it home.

It was wrong to trick you, to pretend those sleeping pills were cold medicine. He knows, but he tried to warn you, and you wouldn’t listen. You never listened.

His foolish, headstrong princess, always running into danger without thinking of the consequences, without thinking of yourself.

He always knows when you’re lying to him. He knew when you were lying to him as a child. He knows you’re lying to him now. Like the night Viper dared to come after you, and the night you asked to meet classmates for dinner and a movie, even before he discovered your gun.

He knows you so well, that if left up to your own devices, you’d do that same reckless thing you always do – charge into a dangerous situation without a second thought, even as fever weakened your body.

It kills him to lie to you, to keep secrets, to make promises he can’t fully keep, but the truth would only hurt you. His only wish is for your happiness – a life free of pain, full of laughter and light, while you wear that brilliant smile he loves.

He lowers your joined hands from his forehead, his gaze falling on your sleeping form.

“Let’s say I had noticed these threats that were lurking around you earlier…” He narrows his eyes, anger flashing in their galaxy-colored depths. “Knowing then what I know now… none of this would’ve happened. Right?”

Beneath the storm in his gaze lies a fierce resolution.

I’ll protect you with everything I have, until my last breath. I won’t let Ever touch you. I’ll do whatever it takes – even if it means becoming a villain in your story.

A notification pops up on his wrist communicator, casting an eerie glow in the dark room.

Cleanup operations begin shortly. Awaiting Colonel’s orders.

Caleb scans the message quickly, furrowing his brow. It vanishes when he flicks his wrist. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself, then turns his focus back to you, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. With a rueful smile, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

I’m sorry…

I’m sorry I’m not the same Caleb you once knew…

I’m sorry I’m not content with just being your oppa anymore, that I want to be something more…

As your warmth lingers on his lips, Caleb makes a vow you’ll never know.

“Don’t worry. This nightmare will come to an end. I promise.”

Caleb brushes his lips against your fingers one last time before gently placing your hand back on the bed, fighting every urge to stay by your side. He stands abruptly, straightening his back and pulls on his cap in a manner befitting that of a Farspace Fleet Colonel. As he exits the room, a steely resolve burns in his cold, amethyst eyes.

He feels the distance between you grow with every step. He’s acutely aware that every decision he’s made and will make, every lie, every secret, will only push you further away, widening the chasm until he’s so far gone, he no longer deserves a place by your side.

But it’ll all be worth it, as long as you’re safe…

Because I love you…

Tag List: @william-rex

[dark-dragon-8]

A Supernatural × Batman crossover where the Batfam are actual cryptids and the brothers are sent to hunt them, only to find out that these guys are pretty much immortal, god like beings whose only weaknesses are each other, the sun and some weird sentient manifestation of their home city that they seem to care about, and most of them already grew out of the second one, since, apparently, the sun only affects them when they're newborns/newly transformed/changed.

The whole reason they ended up in Gotham in the first place was because of some online rumors saying that there is a demon cult in the city, as well as Blüdhaven [it's true, partially, the Bat clan has had several cults and/or religions painting them as godly beings/saviours of Gotham throughout the years, still do (imagine the colonies from F'ing Demon Bats, only this time the cryptid part of them is actually real)] along with shrines for human sacrifices.

At first they thought the locals sold themselves to a Pagan God in exchange for their safety, that the shrines and "holy grounds" spread throughout the city were for blood and human sacrifices and the creatures were feeding on the souls of their followers or something.

Turns out, that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes there were bloody sacrifices at the shrines, but most of the time those were just grieving kids bringing their dead pets to silence's holy grounds for them to be healed, or taken care of, by the spirit and have their souls at peace. But, again, that was rare, and only occurred at the holy grounds themselves rather than the shrines people attended to daily.

Majority of those shrines were filled with books, art supplies, music boxes with ballerinas and, sometimes, you could even find a few trinkets and computer parts, as well as the occasional plates and plastic boxes filled with home cooked meals, sometimes they even put pots and kettles filled to the brim with savory goods and nice tea. Nobody ever touched the food, not even the poor and desperate, when asked why all the brothers received were looks of horror and hushed whispers about how "The bats don't like thieves" and "They'll stop coming by the shrine, maybe even destroy it if we do that"

Dean didn't like it, neither did Sam, they didn't like how the locals, people who barely even bat an eye when they see a dead body on their way to work, get so scared and terrified as soon as they hear of something that might displease the Bats. They tried asking around, trying to figure out what is it that makes them so scared of their dearly beloved deities, after all, they talk about them like such a wonder, like they're the best thing that ever happened to them. Hell, one of them is named Mercy and was revered for its compassion and understanding of those around them.

They only got their answer when investigating a place called Crime Alley. They locals were all the same, if not even more reserved than their city's counterparts, but there was one person, a young girl who couldn't be older than ten that said she'll be willing to answer their questions in return for some money and stories from their time as hunters. They were reluctant at first, but seeing as they haven't had much of an option, they agreed.

"So, Masey" Dean started

"Missy" she corrected

"Right, sorry, Missy, you said that you could tell us what's up regarding those demons"

"Deities" she said sternly, the man simply nodded "And yes, I can do that, but you'll have to do something for me first"

"And what would that be?"

"You said you were a hunter, right?" He nodded "And you also said you have some money. So I want you to give me two hundred dollars, cash, and a written story containing at least three of your adventures with your partner. You can't use big fonts, lie or omit any details from the story, it needs to be one hundred percent real and legible and needs to be at least fifty pages, understood?"

Dean was confused, confused and worried. Why would this child need a story about them hunting monsters? And why did she need it to be so long and accurate? Was she trying to sell them out to the Bats or something? Why was this so important?

A million questions flooded his head and looking at Sammy, he could tell the feeling was very much mutual.

"Um Missy" it was Sam talking to her this time "Why would you want a story of us hunting like that? We could tell you about our time together on the field, if you want, but why do you need that written so meticulously?"

The little girl shook her head before he even finished speaking "No, no, I need it written"

"How so?"

"For Passion, of course"

"Passion?"

"Yeah, Passion, the component watching over Crime Alley, it loves reading stories but only when they're worth it. It doesn't like when people give them stories only to please it or for it to give them undeserved attention. It needs to be good and interesting, a story about two hunters will definitely do that"

The two hunters met each other's eyes, both their expressions filled with worry, apprehension and suspicion.

"And why all the other rules? Why does have to be so long and accurate?"

The girl tilted her head, looking at them as though they've said something stupid "Because you're introducing yourself, maybe"

"I can't just tell you guys all there is to know about the Bat without at least one of the components acknowledging you guys and giving me permission to share that information with outsiders"

"And what makes you think it won't just kill us as soon as it realizes what we do for a living?" They might've been desperate, but that doesn't mean they're going to give an essay about their weaknesses and hunting methods to a freaky, probably homicidal spirit on a silver platter

"Because they like people like you, people who put their lives on the line in order to help those around them. Also" she leveled her gaze with Dean's, which was pretty impressive considering she barely reached his hip "Had it wanted you dead, you wouldn't have been able to take two steps inside Crime Alley without having a heart attack, or your head magically disappearing"

The two brothers tensed, the taller's eyes rapidly scanning their surroundings, hands fishing out a weird cellular device, probably an EMF reader or maybe a bottle of holy water, as the shorter failed to keep up his confident facade in front of the (probably) ten year old (because Dean isn't going to be spooked by a kid that hasn't even reached the double digits yet, he's 𝘯𝘰𝘵)

The little girl laughed, completely ignoring their - very justified!!! - panic "Relax, would ya? Passion doesn't kill people unless they feel like it's necessary"

They didn't seem to be very relaxed, she didn't care, she just told them to meet her again on the border of Crime Alley and its neighbor city in a week, before leaving.

Two hours later, Carrie Kelley was skipping into the main living room of Wayne Manor, where several of her siblings played video games and with their father reading the newspaper on the side, the perfect illusion of a normal, happy, completely human family.

She walked up to Bruce, sitting on the arm of his sofa as the last of her illusion magic slipped away

"Did you do it?"

"I offered them the deal, still not sure if they'll end up actually agreeing to it"

"Mn. You did well"

The young teen preened under the praise, thanking her father before going off to boast and scheme with the rest of her siblings, they were up planning contingencies and devising plans until Sundown.