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youllallriseintheink · 4 years

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Prison Cell, Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long- it got so long that I had to split it into two parts. Anyhow, from this point forwards, you can expect a lot of violence, so be warned. This chapter will have a lot of interpersonal stuff, and the final chapter will be pretty much entirely action.

---

Sammy unlocked the door. On the other side of it was a demon. The demon. The one that had stolen her blood.

Its body was humanoid and wearing a suit and white bow tie, but its hands were made of ink. The top of its head was covered in black ink, which spiraled up into horns and spilled down its face, leaving only its mustache, mouth and chin visible. Seeing it in the light for the first time, Susie recognized it as the bottom of Joey’s face.

“Joey?” Susie asked, her voice full of wonder and fear.

“Once,” the demon said, and its voice was not Joey Drew’s. It deep, and rough, and horrible. “But I have taken over. Don’t worry- I don’t want this any more than he does. Once I find a way to separate humans from ink, I’ll go back to my dimension and free all of you to yours.” The demon turned and beckoned Susie to follow him. “Come.”

The demon led Susie through the basement, seemingly one large room full of very strange things. Pentagrams littered the floor. Scattered iron cages contained a few emaciated, ink-covered people. Shelves full of sharp tools and unknowable ingredients lined the walls.

“I can still hear him, you know,” the demon mused, taking a syringe and a number of bottles from a shelf, “Joey. His mind. I can see into him. Learn how to manipulate humans. I asked him how to crush your insurrection, and he said that I’d need to destroy your little story.”

The demon led Susie to a door and opened it, and when he did, she lost all her breath.

It was Norman, chained to the far wall. He was wearing the same clothes he had been when he was taken away several weeks ago, but now they were hanging off of him at sharp angles. Susie ran to him, and he cringed away from her. He didn’t want her to see him like this, or to feel how thin and bony he’d gotten.

“What did you do him!?” Susie demanded.

“Nothing beyond the obvious. You see, you thought that some of you could overcome us with physical power. That was your story- that your hope and your resilience would lead to freedom. I needed to show you that rebellion only forces me to take your strength. This isn’t something I wanted to do. Strong, healthy people do better work, and unfortunately Joey’s desire to manage the studio is in me. But... you forced my hand.”

The demon then pulled Susie Campbell up by the collar, pushed her against the wall, and put the syringe to her throat.

“He can’t protect you now,” the demon explained, perfectly calm. “His ability to do so was always under my control, and you made me take it away.”

All Norman could do was bury his head in his hands and listen to her whimper. The chains were too short for him to reach her, and he didn’t stand a chance against the demon anyhow. Not like this. The demon released her blood into one of the bottles, then reinserted the needle, working at an unhurried pace. He repeated the motion several times before letting her go. She fell onto her hands and knees, faint from blood loss.

---

Utterly haunted, Sammy escorted the two sickly individuals back to the music room, carrying with him the two first-aid kits and a message that Joey had written. The second he entered the recording studio, The instruments went silent. A bassist got up from his instrument and tackled Sammy to the ground.

“Okay, someone get these two to the infirmary and look after them,” the bassist ordered, “And Johnny, get the rope. We have a loyalist to hang!”

“Wait!” Sammy cried, “I carry a message from your lord!”

“Can it! You let this happen to them. Why would we listen to your stupid ‘message?’”

Meanwhile, Jack Fain picked up the message from the ground and read it. “Guys! It says if three days go by without incident, they’ll release our prisoners! Let’s not do this. Please.”

The man who’d tackled Sammy got up, snatched the message out of Jack’s hands, and skimmed over it. “Huh. You’re right. Fine. Take him to the elevator and I’ll take this to Abby. Hopefully she’ll actually use it.”

---

Abby read over the letter.

To the upper levels,

A lot of violence has occurred between the upper and lower levels recently, so let me make myself clear: I do not want war, and no matter what level you come from, you should not want loyalists to die. Without our work, you would starve. I’m sorry to have done what I did, but I think you all needed a reminder of what’s coming for you if you keep interfering with our work. I do not wish to have to do this again.

Simply put, be peaceful, do what’s needed of you, and everything will be fine. As a final peace offering, I will release your prisoners three days from now if the rebellion stops entirely.

-Joey Drew

Abby knew the letter was full of lies. That thing wasn’t Joey, and it wasn’t forced to keep them here. She knew that the others knew that, too, and she knew that now that the upper levels had tasted hope, complete compliance would be even more impossible than before. This so-called war was going to happen sooner or later, so she needed to make sure they started at an advantage. She called on Henry to help her make a plan, and called everyone into the recording studio that night to announce it. Thankfully, it seemed to satisfy even the most rebellious of souls.

---

The door to Susie’s room opened, and Abby stepped in. Susie's eyes opened weakly.

“Hey.”

“Sorry you had to miss the meeting tonight. Big things are happening, and I thought I’d let you know about them.”

“Okay,” Susie said.

“So... Joey, or, his demon, rather, has threatened to come down hard on us if there are any more signs of rebellion- and we both know that there will be. He also promised to release our prisoners if there are three days of good behaviour. So, I’ve decided that we’re breaking out the same night that our prisoners are released. The plan is for someone stealthy to go down there in the dead of night, steal the keys, and come back. After that, we’ll leave in groups of seven in order to sneak out of the portal. We’ll do it as quietly as possible, but we’ll also be packing axes and spears made from the knives you brought up. Hopefully there won’t be too many causalities.”

“Why seven?”

“We’re expecting to have ten injured people, and we’re not leaving anyone behind. There are going to be 68 of us in total, assuming that none of the prisoners died, you know, I thought that one per group would have the least chance of really compromising a group’s chances of escape. Plus, smaller groups will be quicker and quieter.”

Susie nodded.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ll be better by then. And Norman is fine, too, by the way. Well, physically. We looked him over and he doesn’t have any issues aside from the obvious. He won’t talk to any of us. I don’t know what that’s about. Maybe some kind of spell.”

Susie should have felt something in regards to that, but she was honestly too exhausted from the blood loss.

“Alright. I’ll let you rest now- but tomorrow, I’m going to have to ask you about everything you saw down there- especially anything that might help me plan. Goodnight, Susie.” With that, Abby left.

---

The rebellion required planning, and management. Every axe was pulled off the walls and moved into Sammy’s sanctuary, along with the knives- just in case a loyalist decided to take them away one night. Two people guarded the elevator on each floor and at all times, and not to keep loyalists out. Loyalists were allowed right through, but any especially rebellious souls had to be kept from ruining their plan. Henry and Abby were busy planning the groups and drawing up an easy-to-follow map to the portal room. Every department head struggled to keep the remaining workers to their jobs. It seemed pointless for them to work jobs they’d quickly be fleeing from, but it was essential in order to keep suspicions to a minimum.

---

It was the night before the march. Most were turning in early, knowing that tomorrow, they would have to be on their guard well into the night. Susie had tried to do the same, but she couldn’t sleep. There was too much on her head. Too many factors that had to align if she was ever going to make it out. The horrifying possibility of facing the ink demon again if they failed. And her mind, despite there being there bigger fish to fry, kept going back to Norman, if they could ever have what they had once had again, and if Norman even wanted that anymore.

“Has Norman talked to you, yet?” Susie asked Grant once he entered their room. Since Norman hadn’t rejoined them, there was no real reason for them to still be roommates, but they’d stayed roommates anyhow, just out of habit.

“No. As far as I know, he hasn’t talked to anyone.”

“I saw him speak today. Wally wanted to help him carry something, and Norman snarled at him to back off. So, it’s not a spell- just mental stuff from being imprisoned. I wanna help him, but he won’t talk to me. Can you try?”

“Sure,” Grant said. “I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Susie said, biting back tears. “I just wanna know that he’s in a place where he’ll be able to handle things tomorrow. And... I know that this is the last thing that should be on my mind, but... can you ask why he’s avoiding me?”

“Oh, Susie. I...” Grant tried to find the words to comfort her. “I’ll talk to him.” Honestly, it didn’t seem like Norman was the only one who had to pull themselves together for tomorrow night.

Norman wasn’t used to being pitied. Even as a kid, after all he’d been through, his adoptive family had known that he was a problem child who needed to be set straight before he got even bigger and his aggression became more dangerous. He’d never wanted pity, either, and now that he had it, he couldn’t say that his opinion on it had improved any. He never thought he’d miss his coworkers looking at him like he was a frightening beast. Though he did cut the long, greasy hair he’d grown while imprisoned as soon as he had the chance, he’d been half-tempted to just wash it and keep it, just to somewhat retain that beastly image.

Mostly, he wanted a way to cope. He wanted to talk with his sister, or go for a walk in the woods, or somehow get out of the sight of these people without isolating himself in one room. That had been what he was doing in his off hours- both because there was little else he wanted to do and because he didn’t have the stamina he used to. It wasn’t Susie’s room. Honestly, he’d been too scared to even look at her.

Norman knew of the plan. Honestly, it had happened so quickly after he was released from his imprisonment that it was a little hard to take in. Yes, late tomorrow night, he and everyone else would end up escaping or die trying, and Norman would either reunite with his sister and put his life together from there, or it would be the end of him. It was happening, but it didn’t seem real.

There was a knock at his door. Norman pulled himself up and answered it. It was Grant. Well, out of everyone in the studio it could have been, Grant was the most tolerable.

“Hey, Norman. You... wanna play some cards?” There was a little pity in Grant’s voice. Thankfully not too much.

Norman ushered Grant into the room. They sat down on the floor, and Grant started shuffling the cards.

“So, you ready for tomorrow?”

“I guess. Kind of hard to believe it’s happening.”

Grant’s face lit up. “You’re talking!”

Norman shrugged. “It’s easy when it’s you."

“Uh, thanks. Do you want talk about... you know, what’s happened?”

“No,” Norman said, and the two played cards in silence for a while before Norman spoke up again. “Is Susie okay?”

“She’s fine. She’ll be strong enough to make it out, assuming the plan goes well.”

Norman’s face was unreadable. “Good." A long pause. “Y’know, she’s childish, and shallow, and stupid. But she was impressed with me because I was strong and I could protect her. And so, you know, she was pretty, and we did... things together. I thought that could be all it was, but she was sweet and kind to me and I went and caught feelings for her. Of course, shallow attraction based on one thing won’t last now that I look like starving stray dog, but whatever. So long as she’s okay. She’s a good girl. So long as she’s okay.”

Grant just stared at him. “Have you... looked her in the eye recently?”

“What?”

“Uh, sorry. It’s just that you’re usually so good at figuring this kind of thing out that it borders on the supernatural, and right now, you’re really, really wrong. This entire, organized rebellion started with her trying to put together a rescue team for you. She wanted to be the first one down in loyalist territory, for you. She’s actually the one who sent me, because she’s worried about how you’ll do tomorrow.”

With the last line, Norman’s face went from appreciation and disbelief to twisted anger. “For God’s sake! Joey didn’t cut my fucking legs off!”

“Well, she can’t know how well you’re doing if you avoid her. Look, if you aren’t up for it, I can go back and try to comfort her, tell her you’re fine.”

“No. No. I’ll do it. And I’m sorry that I’m not my most pleasant right now.”

Grant smiled. Nothing ever changed- the best way to get Norman to do anything was to offer to do it for him. Susie slept in Norman’s arms that night, knowing it could be their last chance to be together.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #joey drew #(sort of)#susie campbell #norman polk #abby lambert #my fanfiction #Story: prison cell

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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Apropos of nothing other than fuyunoakegata making me think of it with that last post, I’ve gotten enough new followers lately that its worth a refresher slash introduction on one of my personal pet themes: that of the word ‘broken’ in regards to trauma/abuse/rape victims and survivors.

Again, nothing to do with them for using the word, but rather just an awareness of the many ways the word is used in those contexts in our society, and my personal opinion that a lot of those ways are very limited and could use some expansion beyond how we typically see these things talked about.

So the below excerpt is just one I think sums up my take on it all pretty well, and as such is a cornerstone viewpoint for a lot of the stuff I regularly express and/or circle back to, as well as being the scene I think I’ve probably gotten the most feedback/reactions to over the years out of pretty much anything I’ve written. Its YJ-verse, Dick and Dinah, utilizing the Tarantula storyline and the not-at-all-uncommon baby-in-the-aftermath trope, but stands fairly well on its own and doesn’t require any context or give any spoilers beyond that.

****

In the end, it was Dick who finally broke the newly fallen quiet.

"Does Batman know yet?"

Batman, not Bruce. Dinah shook her head. They're one and the same, she wanted to remind him, wanted to shake him, wanted to scream in Bruce's face every time she'd watch him insist on the distinction over the past ten years.

"He's waiting back at Mt. Justice," she said. "But no, he doesn't know yet. He knows something is wrong, but I convinced him to let me come alone and speak with you first."

Dick snorted. "At least he actually listens to you."

"I think this makes the third time in the fifteen years I've known him," Dinah said wryly. "Don't go thinking I'm special. He only listened because I convinced him barreling in here would only make things worse. And the last thing your father has ever wanted to do is make things worse for you. He manages it sometimes anyway, but it's never his intent."

Not that intent matters, or is any kind of excuse for the harm or damage one actually causes, Dinah reflected. And normally it wasn't a line of thinking she'd ever open a door to at all, but with the past two years worth of tension between Dick and his father still a major source of the young man's turmoil, she figured it was worth it to see if Dick would seize the opportunity to defend Bruce. Lord knows Dick could hold a grudge against his father like no one's business, but anyone else trying it in his presence was usually a nonstarter.

To her disappointment - but not her surprise - Dick ignored the bait and instead just grunted. He stared at the floor, face alternately pale and purple under the neon glow that washed through the window via a strip club's signage across the street.

"I wouldn't have broken, you know," Dick said, never looking up. His lips twisted beneath the words, as if they tasted like something sour. "If he came too. I didn't...I don't want him here, not now, or yet, I mean. But it's not like. It wouldn't have broken me or whatever you're thinking. That's all I mean."

"I didn't say that it would, Dick," Dinah said carefully. But not so carefully as to lay credence to the idea she thought he was fragile. Not an easy line to traverse. Where's a tightrope walker when you need one? Oh, right. Crumpled up on the floor of his unlit apartment, afraid to even look at his own baby. Things were off to a promising start. "It's not either or. You're not broken just because you're not alright and you're not alright just because you're not broken. There's room for space in between."

She sighed and cast around the cramped apartment, dragging a chair from the kitchen table to settle down in front of him. The room was such a far cry from the opulence of Wayne Manor. She knew Dick had never been one to buy into the trappings of his father's wealthy lifestyle. She and Ollie frequently attended the same functions as the Waynes, and she'd smothered many a giggle at Dick and Jason's antics as the two reveled in shocking the Gotham elite with loud and pointed reminders of their impoverished 'low class' backgrounds. Still, looking around, she couldn't help but wondering how much of Dick's apartment and its placement was purely a result of not caring about things like wealth and status, and how much of it was a deliberate rejection of those things, of Bruce? Did it even matter? Or was she just stalling?

"You know, I've never really liked when people use that word," she mused. The baby in her arms stirred restlessly, his nose wrinkling. God. As a general rule, she preferred waiting until children were teenagers before interacting with them. She wasn't big on babies, usually - most people who cooed over their shrunken little faces and called them the most beautiful things they'd ever seen were just lying, in her opinion. But this one was a charmer. Or maybe he wasn't, and she was just already hopelessly attached because Reasons. Crap. Of all the times for a maternal bone to materialize.

"Broken. What does that even mean, really? It's just a description of a physical state, but people often use it like a judgment. As though it describes what someone is, instead of simply what state they're in at a particular moment. You can break something and then put it back together so you can never tell the difference, so what does it mean that it was broken? Why does it matter?"

Dick shifted for the first time since she'd entered the apartment. She might not be Batman caliber, but her own reflexes were nothing to sneeze at. Still, the suddenness of his movements were unexpected enough to catch her offguard as he reached over to the side and snatched up one of the escrima sticks he carried as part of his Nightwing ensemble. A slim but sturdy shaft of polished black wood about a foot long in length, it made a hell of a crack when he held it in both hands and brought it down over one knee, hard and fast enough to snap it in two. He tossed the two broken pieces onto the hardwood floor. One rolled over to rest against her foot.

"Can't fix that with crazy glue."

Dinah smoothed her features into careful non-reaction as she bent and reached down to pick up the broken stick, still cradling the infant in one arm as she rolled the shattered weapon in her other palm.

"No, I suppose not. But I bet you I could find a hundred other uses for this piece right here. Plenty of other things you could do with it, or things you could build with it. Use it as the foundation to make something else entirely, or even just carve it, turn it into a work of art, something beautiful. And whatever you end up with, could you describe it as broken? Yes, it wouldn't be your escrima stick anymore, doesn't do the same thing, have the same purpose, maybe what it was is broken. But what it is? What you make of it? Would that be broken?"

Dick jutted his jaw out, mulish, stubborn. A mirror of the expression she'd last glimpsed under Batman's cowl, not even an hour ago. They couldn't be more alike if they were blood. "I know what you're doing," he said.

"What's that?"

"Exactly what I should have known you'd do before I told Artemis she could send Wally to get you. Knew it was a mistake the second he left. I don't need a shrink right now, Canary."

She shrugged. "Good, because I'm done trying to be your therapist. I realized what a waste it was, on my way over here. I never caught a whiff of this brewing under your surface this past year, so obviously our sessions have just been a waste of both our time. I forgot that arrogant smart people make the worst patients."

That was enough to jolt a noticeable reaction out of him. Finally. It was a calculated gamble, one she already regretted as a swift flicker of hurt winged across his face, half-glimpsed and vanished as quickly as it came. It was a little harder for him to banish his gaping mouth. "Yeah, not your usual session starter," he agreed, in only the barest facsimile of his usual clever humor. But it was a start. "So I'm arrogant, now?"

"You always have been," Dinah said gently, trying to soften the blow of her harsh words. She quirked her lips in a half smile. "Just like your father. Difference is, you actually bother with social interaction and you're charming, so you can get away with it where he can't. And Dick...I'm not saying it as an insult. Or that it's a bad thing. I think you and Bruce are arrogant in certain ways, yes. I think you have to be. To do what you both do."

"You're both human, no superpowers, no magic, not even advanced technology giving you an edge. And yet you not only hold your own amidst heroes who have all those advantages and more, you take charge. You lead. You inspire. Mere confidence isn't enough to allow you to do that. You need something that goes beyond that, something that can only be called arrogance, because it's such a bone deep certainty that you can do all the things you profess you can do, that you are the right people to fight the battles you fight, that it's above questioning. There are a million and one reasons you both shouldn't be able to do the things you both do, and if there was even a second you doubted that you could, you probably wouldn't be able to. When you leap off ten story buildings with just a grapple line and your acrobatics to bring you safely to the ground, it's because you believe, no, you know, that you can defy gravity. Even though for seven billion other humans, gravity can't be defied. Dick, I'm an Olympic level gymnast. You don't see me leaping off ten story buildings if I can help it because I know I'm good, yes, but that doesn't mean I know in a battle of me vs gravity, I'm always going to win. You do. You know that. You believe that. And that is arrogance, yes. But it also happens to be justified, in your case."

He mulled that over, not looking thrilled, but at least looking engaged now, and she breathed a bit easier. Good. Engaged she could work with. It was a start. "Okay. Fine. So what about that makes me a terrible patient?"

"I never said terrible," she protested lightly. "I said the worst."

He glared.

She relented. "It's like Superman's invulnerability. Most of the time, that's exactly what he needs to keep him safe. It's all he needs. But in some specific, rare instances, even if it's only 1% of the time, the very thing that makes him so hard to hurt, makes him hard to help. All it takes is that one bullet that can pierce his skin, either because it's Kryptonite, or it's enchanted, or something else....and suddenly, that same invulnerability that keeps him safe 99% of the time is the very thing making it so hard to operate on him, to cut into him and dig out the one bullet that made it past his defenses. Dick, answer me this. What's the first thing you do when you're confronted with a problem?"

"I assess the situation and determine a course of action, I guess," he frowned. "Why?"

"Because when the problem is you, when it's something that's happened to you or something involving your behavior, the kinds of things that a therapist is meant to help you with, you do exactly that. You assess the situation, you assess yourself, your own behavior, and you come to a conclusion. Which means by the time you ever arrive at my doorstep for a session, you've already diagnosed yourself. You've made up your mind. That arrogance that gives you the strength, the certainty, the conviction you need to tackle every other obstacle you face without hesitation, it has you equally convinced that the conclusion you've already drawn about what's wrong with you or your behavior, it must be true. That you've got it already figured out. And so instead of our sessions being about me helping to guide you to a conclusion or helping you find the inconsistencies in your own logic or reasoning - that's not what you're actually there for. Because you're sure you already have the answer, and so instead of looking for it, you're really just looking for it to be validated."

She gave him a moment to absorb that, drawing a breath before continuing.

"And here's where you being so damn smart becomes a problem - because you're brilliant, Dick, just like Bruce is, you know how to read people, you know how to manipulate people, you can do it without even having to think about it. And so instead of telling me what you need to say, you tell me what you think I want to hear. And we get further and further away from actually helping you as you steer our sessions towards the conclusions you've made because of what's bothering you....instead of towards the conclusions you'd draw if you were ready to face it."

Dick leaped to his feet, face flushed in the moonlight. He stepped forward, aborted that when it drew him closer to her and the baby, features twisting in a heart-wrenching moment of agony for the briefest instant before he stepped away again. Carefully breathing in, making a visible effort to drop his voice despite his obvious agitation. Good. Awareness of his surroundings. Thinking beyond the moment to consequences of each action. Engaging more and more with his surroundings. She'd piss him off to Hell and back if that's what it took. Be angry, Dick. Rage. Scream. Yell. Hurt.

"So what?" He asked with a sharp, acidic laugh. He paced, arms buried in his armpits, hunched over, eyes on his boots as he wandered in circles. Pent up, restless energy. All the frenetic motion of Robin, of Nightwing, of a bird made for flying yet still stuck on the ground.

"You think I don't know what's bothering me? You think...I freak out a little and Wally runs to you and tells you something and you come back and find me all freaked out on the floor and you've got it all figured out from there, from just that, but you think I can't figure it out on my own? I'm brilliant, you said, but you think I'm all messed up because I can't face it, I can't see it even when its right in front of me?"

"That's not what I'm saying Dick," Dinah tried, but he just laughed again. Jabbed a hand towards the baby in her arms, took it back halfway.

"I know what happened, Canary," he bit out. "I was there. I don't need you to hold my hand and walk me through it so I can face it. Yeah, okay, I get it. I was raped. Tarantula raped me. I can say it. I'm not - I'm not in denial. I've been doing this since I was ten, I'm not...I know the statistics, I know it's not any different just because I'm a guy. I get that men can get raped, that they can be raped by women, that there's no other word for what happened to me. That it wasn't my fault, that I was in shock, that I can't be blamed for her taking advantage of me in that state. I know all that okay? It's not a fucking revelation to me, I don't need anyone's help to fucking face that!"

"Then what's the problem, Dick?" Dinah asked softly when he ran out of steam, or breath or both. His hair was wild in disarray, his stance a contradiction of defensiveness and a pending attack. His chest heaved like a bellows even though he'd yet to raise his voice past a low-pitched hiss. "If you know all that already, where's the problem? What are you having trouble with here? What reason does someone who's already faced all that have for hiding it from his friends and family for a year?"

"There's no problem, that's my whole point," Dick insisted, throwing his arms wide. "Fine, I freaked out for a minute because I just found out my rapist had my fucking baby, and I thought it was over and done with but....jesus. I'm not...it's not because I can't deal with what happened. God, nothing even happened! It was barely anything. I barely even remember it I was so out of it, and then it was over. She didn't hurt me, its not like it was painful or I was drugged or it left me damaged or something, okay? I told you, I've been doing this for ten years. I've SEEN victims okay, real victims, women and even men who are so fucking traumatized by what some sicko did to them they can barely get out of bed in the morning. I've seen victims left beaten and bloody by their attackers, who've...it was nothing like that, okay?"

Dinah nodded. "And that. That right there. That's exactly what I'm talking about."

Dick blinked and rocked back on his heels. Blindsided by her calm and her seeming non sequitur. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you misdiagnosed," she said with a helpless shrug. "You've been so busy reacting to what you thought was your problem, what you were convinced must be bothering you - whether or not you were able to admit that you were raped, that you could be raped even though you're a man, let alone an accomplished fighter able to protect himself - that you left yourself wide open to something else entirely. Tell me. What do you know about Impostor Syndrome?"

"It's a term sometimes used to describe over-achievers who have trouble internalizing their accomplishments. Perfectionists who think they're frauds because they don't know how to take credit for their own achievements and say its because of luck or timing or something other people did," Dick frowned, puzzling through both the question and the aim of it. He raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound like something that applies to someone as arrogant as me."

"Don't be a little shit, Dick," Dinah said with small smirk. "And you're right, I don't think any of that applies to you. However, it's also used in another capacity, to describe trauma survivors who are unable to internalize their own trauma. Who deflect from it, or mitigate it, treat it as less than it is on the basis that it wasn't as bad as what's happened to someone else. It's especially common in trauma survivors who are noted for being especially empathetic or who have caregiver personality types. People who are so used to self-identifying as someone whose role or purpose is in helping others, that they find themselves unable to identify as traumatized because it might shift the focus to themselves instead of people they feel need it more. Does that behavior sound a little more familiar?"

Dick hesitated, eyes on the floor and darting every which way as though looking for escape from a trap.

"It should," she pressed on. "Considering you've been doing that for a long time, much longer than just this past year. Pretty much as long as I've known you, in fact."

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you do whenever someone brings up your parents or their deaths?" Dinah asked softly. He flinched. Ducked his head to the side. Jaw tightened again. "You say it was a long time ago. Or that at least you have Bruce now. Or that you wish other orphaned kids could be as lucky as you ended up. Always shying away from the idea that you might need sympathy or comfort because of what happened to your parents and pointing instead to everyone else who needs it more. And it only got worse when Bruce adopted Jason."

"Don't -" Dick warned. His head snapped back up, fire in his eyes, but she refused to be deterred. Not when she finally had his full attention.

"You never allowed anyone to dwell on any of your myriad traumas once Jason came along. Not just your parents, but what happened with Two-Face, the first time you faced the Joker, nothing. You'd always deflect, always shift things back around to Jason. And what a hard life he'd had. So much harder than you, you insisted. At least your parents loved you. At least they didn't abuse you like Jason's father abused him, or were a drug addict like his mother was. Someone mentioned the time you spent in a juvenile detention center as an eight year old, all because some racist bitch of a social worker didn't like that you were Romani, and your response was that at least you didn't have to live on the streets like Jason did before he met Bruce."

"This has nothing to do with Jason!" Dick ground out, heated.

"It's not about Jason, Dick. It's about you. Because your brother had a hard life, yes. It's true. He suffered terrible traumas before Bruce found him and adopted him. And not a single one of those things are made less true, or invalidated or in any way threatened just because terrible things happened to you too. So why do you insist your pain was less than his? That yours didn't matter just because his existed?"

"It's not the same thing," Dick insisted stubbornly. "You can't compare what happened to my parents to the twelve years of shit Jason had to live through."

"I'm not though, Dick. You are. You're the only one saying one must be worse than the other. All I'm saying is both existed."

She sighed. "Trauma isn't a scale to be measured on. It doesn't require a minimum threshold, and it doesn't have a ranking order. It's not about how much harm was caused or how much damage someone did, because at the end of the day, trauma is transformation."

"What do you mean?"

Dinah held up his broken escrima stick, still cradled in her hand. "Trauma is force that causes change. It's not about the act of damaging. It's about what's left behind once the damage is done. I could break this stick into two pieces. It would take a certain amount of force, a certain amount of damage. And once that was done, we'd be left with two pieces here instead of this one. But then give me another stick the same size, same dimensions, only this one is made of metal. I could break that in two as well. But it would require a whole different kind of force, a whole different order of damage. But in the end, once it was done, we'd still be left with two pieces of that too, instead of the one we started with."

"Two different sticks,” Dinah continued. “Two different traumas. Two different applications of force. And the only thing in common is in the end....both sticks would be transformed. Neither would be what they were originally. Not less. Not more. But different. Changed by the trauma they endured. You want to quantify that trauma? You probably could. It'd be arbitrary, but you could do it. You could calculate the force used, define parameters for the damage it caused. But what would that mean? What's the outcome? What happens because you decided one trauma was greater than the other? How does that alter the fact, the reality, that in the end, the survivors of those two different traumas are changed? Something different from what they started as?"

"But it is different," Dick insisted. He looked confused though, rather than forceful. "Context matters. The situations matter."

"Yes, they do," Dinah agreed. "But it's a question of focus, not degree. Which trauma was worse only really matters when you're focused on the trauma. When you're looking at what the trauma leaves behind though? When you focus on the survivors? All that really matters is...how are they different? How were they changed?"

"Dick, you only started getting angry and frustrated when you compared what you went through to what other rape victims you've seen over the years have gone through. What they went through is terrible, yes. It doesn't mean what happened to you wasn't terrible as well. You said you weren't hurt, it wasn't painful, she didn't damage you physically. That doesn't matter though. Because rape isn't about any of those things. It's not about pain, it's not about how much it hurt. Rape is about theft."

He flinched at that, taking a step back.

"Rape is theft,” Dinah pressed forward. “It's betrayal. It's someone taking something they have no right to, something precious, something that can't be taken back. It's taking away someone's right to choose who they share their body with, its using someone's body against them, against their wishes. That's what Tarantula did to you. Whether it hurt or not, whether you remember it fuzzily or in full detail...she took something from you, something you can't get back, and in doing so, she changed you forever."

He shook his head, eyes back on the ground. Denial but not denial. Acceptance but not acceptance. She forged on.

"And the thing is, you're right. You haven't been in denial about what happened. You know that she raped you, that that's what it is. What you haven't faced though is that it's not about how much that hurt you. It's about how much it changed you. Because you're different now, aren't you? And you're smart enough that you figured that out as soon as it happened, that you're not the same anymore, because I'm willing to bet everything looks different to you now. Because you lost something you didn't even know you could lose until it was gone. A sense of security you took for granted, that something like this could never happen to you, except now you know that it can, and it did. We're all made up of our experiences and your experiences now include something they didn't before, something big, something that left a sizable impact, and the be all and end of it all is that you've changed, and you know that....and you keep looking for an answer as to why. Why is everything so different now? Why are you so different?”

She sighed softly.

“And the problem is the only answer you have for that, you decided wasn't good enough for you. Because it wasn't as bad as it could have been. As bad as what happened to other people. And so you've trapped yourself because you know something's different but the thing that caused it, the thing that changed you....it wasn't big enough to explain this change, you decided. You didn't suffer enough, it didn't hurt enough, and so it's not a good enough reason for you to not be who you used to be. And so you keep finding the flaw in yourself, deciding that it must be that you're weak, that everything unsettling you, upsetting you, it's not because what Tarantula did warrants those changes, it's because you can't cut it. That's what you've been telling yourself, haven't you? You're not a survivor, because you don't think there was anything for you to survive. You're not traumatized because the trauma doesn't count. You didn't suffer enough, so that can't excuse all the turmoil you feel."

Dick paced restlessly, all that frenetic energy he always carried with him ratcheted up in intensity until Dinah was half convinced he was going to shake himself to pieces if he didn't find an outlet soon. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite ready to stop.

"All those other victims you described seeing over the years. When you helped them, did you tell them you were sorry for what they went through?"

Dick paused and raised haggard eyes. "Of course I did. Why?"

"Why did you?" Dinah asked, arching a brow. "You didn't do anything to them. You weren't apologizing for something you caused. So what did it mean, to tell them you were sorry?"

"I don't know. It's just...it's what you do. It's a comfort."

"Why though? What about it makes it a comfort?"

"I don't know, it just is. It lets them know somebody cares, I guess," Dick raged. "What are you getting at? You have all the answers, you tell me!"

"Think it through, Dick," Dinah said, firm. "They don't know you. You're a stranger to them. What does it mean for a stranger to tell a victim they're sorry, that they care. What does it matter? What does it do for them?"

Dick stared at her. His face wide and open and searching as he hunted for answers in the shadows of his room, of his own mind. He looked like he'd run a marathon, his body limp and exhausted seeming, like he was only remaining upright by the barest of threads.

"When I tell someone I'm sorry for what happened to them. I don't know. It tells them I see them, I guess," he said hesitantly. She nodded, encouraging him to go on. "That I see what they've been through. That I'm sorry they went through it."

He focused his eyes on hers, with a little more clarity this time. "I tell them...they survived, I guess. That what happened to them...it didn't just happen, it wasn't supposed to happen. But it did. It mattered. What happened to them mattered."

"Yes," Dinah agreed softly. "And every victim you've ever helped, as Robin or as Nightwing, every survivor you've told 'I'm sorry this happened to you' - every time one of them looks in the mirror and recognizes that they aren't the person they were before it happened, that they've changed...they can hold on to that memory of you saying you're sorry. And they know. It happened. It mattered. It is the reason they're different. It is the reason they changed."

Dinah hesitated, and then she said: "I'm sorry it happened to you, Dick. I'm sorry it changed you. I'm sorry that you can't go back to the way things were. I can't tell you it will get better with time. You aren't injured. This isn't a wound that will scar over if you just leave it alone long enough. You can't heal a transformation. But you can decide what you change into. You can decide who you become, even if its not what you were. It'll still be you. A whole you. A complete you. Just a different you. Just like you became someone different after your parents died. I never knew you before that changed you. But that didn't make the you I met any less worth knowing."

He sobbed. Just once, like it was ripped out of him. A tangled, tormented wreck of a sound, his face contorted in a rictus of misery beneath eyes that glistened with a watery sheen, reflecting the wan illumination. It was all he allowed himself, before he found his usual iron control and slammed the gates shut, expression going blank, but it was enough. It was a beginning.

#rape tw

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themusicplayedherlife · 5 years

Text

Of Warmth and Growth

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

Happy Harbour

December 7, 2019

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re rambling.”

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

“Megan,” you start warningly.

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

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

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

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

You owe it to her.

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

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

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

Happy Harbour

December 14, 2019

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hold on.

Wait a second.

Gorgeous?

Did he really just call you gorgeous, too?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your head swivels in her direction. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You avert your gaze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s that about?

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

“Do you want me to come with you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need help.

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

“Woah, easy, it’s just me.”

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows furrow. “Bludhaven? Really?”

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

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

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

“Happy Harbour Times, Opinions.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

“Was he?” he asks, voice soft.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod mutely, smiling tight lipped.

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

Bludhaven

December 15, 2020

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Boo.”

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

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

“Heckling does not equate respect, babe.”

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

Your phone on your desk dings.

Dick 🥳🤩: Chinese food 2nite?

You: only if you promise to get extra egg rolls

Dick 🥳🤩: Got’chu, omw.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megan🧡: 😨 You hung up on me?

Megan🧡: 😡😡

Megan🧡: Expecting deets tomorrow ❤️

You: goodnight, megan!

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

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

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

Ah, hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He flashes you a grin. “Why not?”

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

Bludhaven

December 31, 2020

You check your watch for the umptenth time.

He’s late.

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

Dick 🥳🤩 (7)

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

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

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

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

“Please be okay,” you whisper to yourself.

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

No answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dick?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dick, if you’re—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s the New Year!”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask, a little hazily.

“I was Robin.”

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

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

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

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ofgoldenangel · 4 years

Text

Rocking Around the Christmas Tree

SUMMARY: Gabriel Meets Wally West at the Christmas Tree lighting and they spend a wonderful time together. With Snowball fights and Hot chocolate TRIGGERS: None WRITTEN WITH: @fasterthanl1ght

Gabriel: loved all these lights and happy kids faces he passed while walking through Rockefeller It was amazing to see how the humans celebrating the holiday season. He found a nice spot in front of the tree on a park bench smiling softly hearing the sounds of happy kids and movement of people. He felt eyes on him as he gave them a soft smile "Hello, Enjoying the Holiday fun?"

Wally: Wally was having a blast. Christmas in Rockefeller. It didn't get much more iconic than that. He passed by a family making a snowman, some kids having a snowball fight, a couple taking a romantic walk. As he approached a park bench he got a look at the guy sitting on it and was slightly floored. Damn. He'd met some good looking folks in his time, like the Titans or the Justice League, but this guy was like on another level. It took him a second to realize he was staring and he turned away a bit just to avoid making it super obvious. "Hm me? Yeah man I love this time of year. It's my favorite!" Wow did he always sound like such a nerd? He coughed a bit feeling the need to clear his throat suddenly before turning the question on the other man. "What about you? Are you stoked for Christmas? Or you know, whatever you celebrate?"

Gabriel: Gabe chuckled softly feeling eyes on him as he sat near the hub of all the activity, he'd briefly saw Sam and Charlie dancing feeling extreme happiness to see them enjoying themselves when he turned his attention to the boy with bright red hair something he'd yet to see in this new world. "Same, I love the idea of bring families closer and sending everyone good will." He mused looking at the other chuckling softly "I'm very stoked for it, this will be the first year in awhile I've got all my siblings close enough to spend time with them. We celebrate Christmas, well I suppose some of us do either way I'm super excited."

Wally: Family. It was a little hard to think of that with Barry gone and his parents...well he just didn't really want to think of them. Hell he hadn't even decided if he was going to visit Iris yet. He smiled lightly and decided to join the guy on the bench to look at the tree. "I was an only child but I can imagine it must be pretty great having your siblings around for Christmas. In any case Christmas is the best for sure."

Gabriel: Looked at the other wondering if he had someone to spend the holidays with, he'd learned that many people were sometimes without family which made his heart hurt for those. "Really how interesting, I'm sure my youngest brother wishes he was an only child. But I rather like it, we sort of had a family falling out years ago this the first time we are all in the same city together. I'm sort of working up my courage to see how he is doing at the Lux club."

Wally: "Ah. Sibling rivalry. I've heard tales of it." The Titans were probably the closest thing to siblings he had and they had their tiffs for sure. Dick probably had the best examples of sibling rivalry of anyone he'd ever met. But that didn't mean the Bat Fam didn't have each other's backs when it counted. Mostly. He pat the other on the back in encouragement and grinned. "Hey man don't sweat it. I'm sure your brother will come around. If ever there was a time to patch things up and start again, this is it. That's what Christmas and New Years is all about right? Peace on Earth and goodwill and stuff."

Gabriel: He smiled nodding his head "it can be quite crazy but lucky I'm pretty close to the youngest group so I i admit its hard playing both sides." He mused looking at the other he was hoping to move forward with his fallen brothers, especially Lucifer, he really missed his younger sibling and hopped maybe with everything happening they could get on better terms. "Thank you that's very kind of you to say, currently he is going through a rough patch and I want to be there for him but I don't want to come off overbearing. Its hard being the elder brother at times especially when once upon a time we were so close. I miss that closeness we used to share."

Wally: "That is a fine line to walk. Wanting to be closer but afraid to push them away at the same time." He'd done the same thing with his friends. It had taken him so long to decide to come back to them but he did and they welcomed him without question. He knew not everyone was so lucky but he had hope. "I think you'll be close again. You're his brother. That has to count for something." Wally was sometimes too optimistic for his own good but during Christmas he felt it was justified. His specialty was bringing some cheer to where it was needed most and as he watched the kids playing, some he even recognized from F.E.A.S.T. an idea came to him and he grinned. "You wanna join a snowball fight?" It was totally random but this guy sounded like he could use some good old fashioned winter fun right about now.

Gabriel: "You are right very fine line so far the last time we saw one another it was nice, we didn't beat each other up like before." He mused smiling softly he missed Lucifer and fighting with him in the Veil only made that feeling so much stronger if he was honest with himself. "I love your optimistic not maybe people have that gift , I think you are right clear all the negative from my head and we should get close again. I never stopped caring about him I'll just have to show him." Gabe's smile returned almost tenfold when the other mention a snowball fight. "I'd love one! its actually be my first in a long time promise to take it easy on me? OH I'm Gabriel by the way, Gabe for short." He replied hopping off the bench holding out his hand.

Wally: Alright that just wasn't fair. No one should be allowed to look that good. The dude, Gabe's smile was practically blinding. Holy hell. Wally did his best to shake it off and laughed as he held out his hand to shake the others. "Wally West. Optimism is kind of my thing. There's always a bright side somewhere if you're willing to look." He grinned happily and started towards the kids calling to them. "Hey guys, this is my new friend Gabe! Mind if we join you?" They kids all looked at each other before agreeing excitedly and separated themselves into teams. Having a grown up on their side gave them a great advantage after all. Wally turned back to Gabe nearly buzzing with his own excitement. "Alright if this is your first snowball fight I'll try and go easy on you. The kids might not though so just, heads up. Basically there's two teams right. And you just run around pelting each other with snowballs until the other teams give up! Easy!" Ok so maybe those rules were oversimplified but that's how he used to play with the Titans. Only they used super powers. Which reminded him of one other thing Gabe should know. "Just remember when you're making a snowball don't pack it too tight. And make sure there's no rocks or ice in it. We don't want anyone getting hurt you know. This is strictly for fun. No tears allowed. Unless of course you feel the need to cry when my team wins. I promise I won't judge." Cute or not Gabe was so going down and Wally couldn't wait.

Gabriel: He was quite happy for the distraction in the form of Wally the male seemed to be just as fun as he was plus it gave him an excuse to not wonder into the Lux too early and set Lucifer off. He walked a rather thin line when it came to his youngest brother but he was still happy to be close to him once again. "Sounds like great advice to live by when one thinks about it" he mused letting the other talk giving the kids a slight wave of his hand. He looked at his teammates smiling before being pulled back to Wally. "That sounds amazing, I hope you wont cry if I get you a couple times then?" he teased nodding his head he'd seen the other making the snowballs enough to get the hang of it plus it will be fun either way I'm sure" he mused before nodding is head chuckling at the other "I promise no tears or pain, but try not to cry if If my team takes the win after all I could be some snow chap" he mused moving over to his team to help make some snowballs for the starting fight.

Wally: Wally was glad he could provide a distraction if nothing else. Christmas time was no time to be down when you could be getting that holiday cheer. He grinned a cheeky grin at the other's words, before switching his tone to one of mock sympathy. "Listen Gabe you're a cool guy and all, but you're not going to hit me. Not even once. But don't feel too bad though. I was the dodge ball king back in high school." Or he would have been if he'd been allowed to use his powers. He totally let those jerks pelt him back then.The kids had built up two snow barricades to act as bases for their teams and Wally went to the one closest to him to plot with the kids on his side. Once their strategy was set he picked up a snowball and made a show of stretching out in front of the enemy team and Gabe. "All right kiddos let me show you how a pro gets things done." With that he sent a snowball flying straight at Gabe. At normal speed of course. He didn't want to crush the poor guy on his first strike. Not in his first snowball fight ever. With the first ball in the air the game was on and with a yell it began. "ATTACK!" The kids behind him all screamed and let their own snowballs fly. Wally was smiling like a loon as he peppered the other team as best he could with going over board.

Gabriel: Gabe had to admit he was beyond glad that he could spend time with Wally he seemed like quite a fun person plus his bright red hair had captured Gabriel's attention almost immediately. He decided it was best to not go over using his strength and powers less the other feel he gave them an unfair advantage. "I bet I can hit you just once during this little snowball fight, Loser buys the Hot chocolate what do you say? We both come out a winner." He mused holding out his hand winking at Wally. He smiled watching the kids excitedly get ready for the fight, it was times like this he loved humanity, things were so simply to kids compare to adults. "Okay now we are going to not only win but have an amazing time okay?" He told the kids smiling at their cheers before he ducked to move away from the snowballs flying "Cheater!" he chuckled out loud throwing his snowballs "Let them have it."

Wally: "Alright hot stuff, you're on. I'll take that bet. That hot chocolate is going to taste so much sweeter when you buy it for me." Wally wasted no time and once the game started he was off like a rocket. No super speed yet but even his normal fast was crazy. He made snow balls in record time and his team now had an endless supply. When he joined the fray he targeted Gabe specifically. Mostly because he didn't want to go for the kids because that seemed kind of low but also because it was the best tactical option to take out the strongest asset first. He almost missed the snowball coming at him from the side but his speed kicked in just for a split second, lighting flashed across his eyes as he moved imperceptibly fast just enough to doge before time slowed again and he was going at the kids pace. Any normal human wouldn't have seen that be he was unaware of who the person was that he had actually challenged.

Gabriel: He couldn't help but chuckle at the other he could tell he was going to like Wally alot, they male had similar energy to him which made wanting to be friends with him quite easy. He wouldn't even mind paying for Hot chocolate if his team lost after all this fight was the most fun he'd had in ages. He didn't know Wally had powers of course had he been human maybe he wouldn't have noticed the sudden super speed. He couldn't help but smile using some of his strategy to up his aim a bit trying to get a snowball and hit the red haired male moving to dodge anything coming his way. "is that the best you've got Wally?"

Wally: The kids were dropping fast now as one by one they started to get tired or took one too many snow balls. Wally was laughing and running around making more snowballs and generally having a great time. He might as well have been a kid himself for all the fun he was having. There was a reason he got along so well with the kids from F.E.A.S.T. It was also why the Flash helped deliver presents on Christmas Eve. This was what the holidays were about and Wally loved it with his every fiber of his being. The challenge from Gabe only made him grin wider. "You wish. You haven't seen even half the things I can do." The battle was slowing down as the kids gradually began to sit on the side lines. Of course his energy reserves were doing just fine and he wasn't waning at all in his onslaught. He saw the snowball Gabe threw at him coming and caught it mid air with a smirk. He pulled his arm back and sent it flying right back at Gabe, certain that it was going to hit.

Gabriel: Gabe was enjoying himself itd been such a long time since he'd be this free and happy. Lately he'd been feeling a tad off but after spending time with the kids and Wally he felt rejuvenate in a way he couldn't explain. The holidays while not all of his siblings favorite time still was great because they once again were all together. He could tell the kids were getting tired with their snowball antics which was fine because his subject was Wally. He chuckled at the others reply looking back at this attempts he enjoyed the fun that came with fight. So when wally caught his snowball only to throw it back he let it hit him. " ahh I've been hit" he fell to the ground pretending to die " how cruel the world is did you see how vicious he was in his attack kids?" He chuckled making the kids laugh.

Wally: Wally laughed and did a victory lap as Gabe went down, moaning about his epic loss. "Woo! That's right! Team Wally for the win! Heck yeah!" The next moment he was gobsmacked as the kids proceeded to ignore him in favor of going to check up on Gabriel to make sure he was ok. His heart melted at the sight of them checking Gabe's forehead and trying to see if he was hurt. They were such good kids. He shook his head smiling lightly as he went over to help. He held out his hand to help the other up out of the snow. "Looks like victory is mine. These kids are shaming me pretty good in sportsmanship though so what do you say. Truce?"

Gabriel: Gabriel chuckled softly watching Wally do his victory lap before he had all the kids rush to him checking him over. This is why he loved kids so much, they were always so kind and loving before the world or people molded and changed them. “I’m okay I shall struggle with this loss” He teased the kids tickling a few before waving his hand “I will say though I have all these candy canes, and it's only fair to share them huh?” He mused handing each kid from both teams cane telling them how great they played as they ran off to their parents who were waiting. He smirked at the hand Wally held out to him taking it without any issue hiding a little bit of snow in his other patting through the others bright red hair. “Oops” he smirks laughing nodding his head “quite so, they are brilliant at sportsmanship and I do accept that Truce. How about that Hot Chocolate I promised?”

Wally: The scene was heart warming really. The kids obviously loved the candy canes and he loved seeing them so happy and carefree. However his own happiness was tinged with a little bitterness as he watched some return to their parents, and some to their chaperones from FEAST. It wasn't fair that those so young had to go through something as terrible as growing up without a home or family. But that was why he did what he did. If no one else would love them then he would. Just like Barry did for him. He was smiling as he helped Gabe up until something cold ran through his hair and down his back. "ha-ah! AH! COLD!" He jerked back and shook his hair out as best as he could but the damage was done and his usually bright red fluffy locks were now damp and limp as they hung down into his eyes. "Well that was cheap! So much for sportsmanship!" He shivered and made a show of shaking off the cold. It might have been a little exaggerated but that smirk of Gabe's left him even more flustered than the snow and he had to play that off. "You do realize this means I have to get you back at some point?" Despite his words he was still grinning like mad at the other. "But later. Right now I'm going to need something to warm up after all this cold."

Gabriel: He had greatly loved hanging out with the children and spending time playing a game he'd only seen from Heaven. He had fun, enjoying the laughter of child who seemed to wish him and Wally all good will before they left. Gabe chuckled at how well he'd managed a sneak attack on Wally if anything Michael would be proud of how well he'd played things. "sorry Wally but you know its only fair I was cold now we both can be." He chuckled happily looking at the other before smiling " I suppose so but either way I planned to warm you up with some nice Hot Chocolate so maybe you'll find it in your heart to forgive me" He gave a rather cute pout before nodding his head pulling the other towards the Hot Chocolate tent "They have a couple kinds, Mellow Hot Chocolate, Mint Hot Chocolate or Regular what do you feel like?"

Wally: Ok. Saying something like 'i was planning to warm you up' should not have sounded sexy at all. And yet here he was, having those kinds of thoughts when clearer that was no the intention. Then Gabe hit him with a pout that should not have been as cute as it was and Wally was even more confused. He was freakin hopeless. He was also really good at being in denial so he just laughed and shook his head. "Your bribe is tempting, therefore I will forgive you. This time." He was grinning ear to ear as he followed the other into the tent, sighing as the warmth and scent of chocolate filled the air. "Mmm you know I think I'll go for the mint. I like switching things up."

Gabriel: Had to admit it was nice having Friends even if their was something quite new between them it felt nice to have someone to hang out with that wasn't his family. He chuckled softly "Yes I told you I can be quite convincing, plus I've just thought to share the snow with you since you shared with me" He teased the other before nodding his head "perfect I'll get a mellow one" He mused ordering their hot chocolate and paying for their stepping to the side to wait for it. "smells good doesn't it?"

Wally: Wally had severely underestimated just how convincing his new friend could be. hell it's not like the guy was actually doing anything particularly convincing in the first place. Wally was just weak. That was it. He rolled his eyes still smiling. "How generous of you. We should get you a medal to commemorate your generosity." He stood beside Gabe as they waited for their drinks, the other people happily chatting and milling about around them. He took a deep breath and slowly released it, taking in the smell of chocolate hanging in the air. "Mm it does. Thank you. I know we tease and all but I do actually appreciate it. The drink and the snowball fight. People underestimate what a little fun can do you know." Wally may not have admitted it to himself or anyone else but he also had a lot on his mind this season and a snowball fight with a perfect stranger turned friend had been just the distraction he needed.

Gabriel: Gabe smiled at the other he was quite glad to have run into someone new while hanging out by the tree, he'd known plenty of his siblings were off doing whatever made them happier so it was nice to have something of his own. "I wouldn't mind one, I bet I'd look very dashing with some medals" He chuckled softly looking around everything smelled heavenly and he could still hear the sounds of happiness filling the air. "You are very welcome Wally, I appreciate you hanging out with me after the game, its been quite along time since I've had this much fun" He replied honestly smiling when their drinks were done passing Wally's his. "So what other things do you like to do for fun? I'm curious"

Wally: Dashing was definitely one way to put it but Gabe didn't need a medal to look good. He did that just fine with his stunning smile and those blue eyes and that curly hair and, oh wow. Wally really needed to stop. He was getting way too ahead of himself here. He chuckled and nodded. "Yes dashing. I'm sure you would. And you're welcome too. Though It's not like I was going out of my way or anything. I just like having fun. Especially this time of year." He was more than happy to spread the love and cheer with someone who needed it. The last question had him pondering for a second. "Well, I play video games and watch movies, jam out on my guitar or bass, go running, swimming, basketball, I volunteer a lot. That's actually how I knew those kids. Most of them were from F.E.A.S.T. I don't know if you've heard of it but it's a great place. They do a lot of good there and i'm happy to be a small part of that." Was he speed talking? He didn't think so but when he got to rambling it was harder for him to tell. Shockingly he wasn't used to talking about himself this much. Which meant it was time to switch subjects. "What about you? What sort of things do you do when you're not getting utterly destroyed in snow ball fights?"

Gabriel: Had to admit this wasn't his first time being called dashing, there were entire artworks detailed to his face taking on his beauty unlike his brothers who looked more like a hot mess then anything real. Yet hearing it from wally made him smile a bit more chuckling "it's still was quite the first meeting, it's been awhile since I've had fun like that, things have been rather strange since moving here to New York. Much like everyone else its been a rather up and down year." He replied honestly he hadn't felt this happy since before he arrived here and learned the truth of his father's cruelty towards his siblings. "That sounds amazing, i mean not many people volunteer much here I've noticed and I have heard of F.E.A.S.T I love their work and often working towards doing more for them. Sort of a pet project of mine, i have quite the soft spot for children." He mused enjoying all the new information he'd gotten from Wally he was quite a wonderful person. "Well not at completely exciting as everything you do, I enjoy reading all types of books really you'll often find me with a book in my hand compared to gaming controller but I still can hold my own thanks to my elder brother. I also love cooking and baking so i like finding and trying new food to create, spending time with my family is always a plus in my book. It never fails to make me smile finding activities that will make my siblings smile and laugh. " He mused honestly smiling softly as their drinks were given to them taking a sip. "Mhmm its soo good isn't it?"

Wally: "Tell me about it. New York ain't like Kansas that's for sure. It's a whole other animal." New York City was probably three times the size of Keystone City and eve for a guy who could see it all in seconds, it was a lot. He listened, nodding along and smiling as Gabe explained his own interests. They had a lot in common but some differences as well. Wally for example, couldn't cook to save his life. It took WAY too long for a speedster. "A love of books we have in common and also a love of food. Though I am probably the worst cook you can imagine. Big ups to you for learning how to cook. I usually make due with fast food and hot pockets." He sipped his hot chocolate admiring the way he talked about his family. No wonder the guy was excited to see them this year. By the sound of it they seemed very important to him. He was about to answer Gabe's comment about the drink when he tipped it back and got nothing. "Huh. It was. Must have been better than I thought since I downed that in no time."

Gabriel: "I take it you are from Kansas then? I've never been there I hear its a lot of farm land is that true?" Gabe questioned wondering about other places outside of New York. He was beyond happy to be making friends with the other boy it wasn't as if he had plenty and enjoyed having people around after coming from so many siblings "Yeah? food is amazing and sometimes a good book is enough to keep me entertained all night, I've never had a hot pocket before does it taste good?" he asked wondering if the other wanted to grab some food later with him given that he seemed to like food as much as he did. "I enjoy cooking it does take some time though If i ever cook for you I can just invite you over when it's done, then you reap the reward of my cooking" he mused smiling as he sipped his drink till the end before looking at the other. "That's cute Wally, I'm glad you like it, you know we don't have to end our company if you'd like, maybe we could look around together and grab some more treats?"

Wally: "Put it to you this way. If you like wheat, corn and cows...and nothing else, than Kansas is a great place for you." He wasn't joking either. Outside of the cities that was pretty much what Kansas had. "Oh and tornadoes. But you get used to it." They didn't mean anything to him but even for the rest of the Kansas populations it was a normal enough occurrence that it didn't faze them too much. Wally was a little taken aback by the offer to cook for him. Out of the blue. They'd barely met but Gabe seemed so, open. More so even than him and that was saying something. "Well, I mean sure I'd love to hang out some more. And I'd love to try your cooking and show you what a hot pocket tastes like, not that it's anything to write home about. But...I don't know I'm just not used to people liking me so quickly. Are you sure you really to want to do this? I'm asking now so you don't make a mistake you might regret later." Wally winked and laughed but there was an undertone of insecurity there that he couldn't mask if he tried. It was just a habit of his to make light of things that worried him or things that he was unsure of.

Gabriel: "I have to admit I've never seen a Cow up close are they cool animals? though I have to wonder what place you like more New York or Kansas" Gabe asked curiously things about Wally keep getting more and more interesting as he chatted with the other. "Tornadoes quite the thing they are destruction and beauty if you believe the whole eye of the storm thing" He mused He smiled softly at the other "I love cooking for people....that offer was odd huh? sorry I'm quite new at this whole making friends thing. I'd like to try a hot pocket especially if you give me tips. I like you Wally you are fun to hang out with...I'm sorry if I'm too strange" He mused running a hand through his hair, humans were so hard to understand but then again he did like Wally. "I want to hang out more with you and get to know you, if you'd be willing to get to know me?"

Wally: "Oh Kansas for sure. Don't get me wrong, New York is great and all. But in the famous words of Dorothy Gale, there's just no place like home." Keystone would always be his city and even if he was currently stationed in New York City he still cleaned up the Keystones streets any chance he got. Central too if Barry was busy. "I've seen tornadoes and cows up close and personal so I can say for sure that cows are cute and that tornadoes are awesome. The destruction isn't, but nature is incredible in it's own right." As Gabriel began to apologize Wally was quick to ease his worries. "No no you're not odd at all. I'm the one who's odd. Frankly I was just surprised you hadn't gotten tired of me yet. I'm not exactly everyone's cup of tea you know." He chuckled a little at the quip and smiled. "Of course I'd be happy to hang out with you. And if you really REALLY want to, I'll even get you a hot pocket. Though as a cook you might want to brace yourself. They're not exactly five star quality haha." This whole meeting felt incredibly serendipitous. Almost like it was too good to be true. That didn't bother Wally at all. He'd always been of the mind set that you roll with the good times and the bad. He was going to enjoy this new friendship as long as it lasted.

Gabriel: “Sounds like a nice place, maybe one day I can go visit down there, at least see where you came from and how cool it sounds.” Gabe replied smiling softly it was nice to see other places and he thinks he might have seen Kansas once upon a time but he hardly remembered anymore. “Cows and cute and tornadoes are awesome just so long as the destruction is kept to a minimum, Got it” He mused chuckling. Gabriel wasn’t sure if he mis-stepped but he was grateful when Wally told him he hadn't and he didn’t want to ruin his friendship. “Oh good I’m so glad to hear that you don’t find me odd. I don’t think I could, you are very fun Wally, I mean what about you makes people tired?” he questioned curiously what about Wally made people upset he couldn’t understand at all. “I don’t mind, My other siblings are huge snack lovers, they might have even fed them to me and I don’t remember every new thing they like to show me in terms of food there is a lot. But I can get some good ideas from them about food related fun” He mused happily chuckling softly before wrapping his arm around Wally’s shoulder. “This is going to be the start of a great friendship just you wait Wally.”

Wally: Gabe definitely made Kansas sound a lot cooler than it actually was. Obviously Wally liked it because that was where he grew up and that's where his home city was but most people didn't really care for it. Especially people who were used to huge metropolitan areas. But Gabe seemed really interested so, why not? "Maybe I'll take you sometime. Show you the sights." Even if there weren't too many sights to see. This whole whirlwind of a friendship was fast even for Wally but he didn't mind one bit. Gabe was kind and generous and easy on the eyes. Wally wasn't surprised they hit it off so well but he was surprised at how quick Gabe was to defend him when they had only just met. The insecure part of him knew it was probably only temporary and that one day Gabe would grow tired of him but the optimistic side didn't really care. If that was what happened then he'd cross that bridge when they got there. For now he was just happy to get to know the guy. He smiled hearing him talk more about his siblings so fondly. "You're family sounds like a great bunch. Complicated, but still great. I'm lucky to find people who can tolerate me." He felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate cover him as Gabriel put his arm around him. For a second he wanted nothing more than to just stay like that, warm and safe and happy. He didn't know how long this would last, whatever this was, but he intended to enjoy every moment of it. "I think so too Gabe." A great friendship indeed. Whatever came next Wally was going to embrace it for however long he could. /END

#discord chat #Rocking Around the Christmas Tree #Featuring Wally West

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insane-control-room · 5 years

Note

“I’m not buying ikea furniture again.” I don't care with whomst, I just need this in my Iife

Shelving Unit

ao3 link

Sammy’s sick of trying to build the shelf.Luckily Wally’s there to help.

“I’m not buying IKEA furniture again,” Sammy grumbled, throwing down the instructions, then picked them up to throw them properly into Wally’s face. “It would be easy, he said. You two will have fun, he said. Utter bollocks is what it is. What language is this even, german?”

“Swedish,” Wally corrected him, righting the instructions. “And only the name, too. The rest is in english, you know.”

“I don’t! ‘Cause most of it is pictograms!” Sammy snarled. “What, do I look like I’m Joey Drew?”

“I don’t see what Mr. Drew’s got to do with our inability ta build a bookshelf,” Wally groaned in reply, rubbing his forehead. “Thomas didn’t know he’d be called in for a big ol’ Gent evaluation. Them college boys always gotta be on their toes. Never know when they could lose their license or something.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sammy admitted, and picked up the pieces once more. “Read the instructions again, please, slowly.”

“You got it, Mr. Lawrence,” Wally flashed a big grin, his laziness satisfied at the thought of merely having to read while the other constructed the shelving unit. “So, first you put….”

After a mere four and a half hours, Sammy stood back to look at the shelf.

“You know, it doesn’t look half bad,” he mused, tilting his head just a bit. “And if you weren’t reading the instructions, I don’t think I would have been able to build it. Reading is… pretty hard for me. That’s why I like music more, I think.”

“Well, lucky for you, reading is somethin’ I love, a whole lot at that,” Wally took Sammy’s hand, giving it a squeeze. And you did a hella good job with that shelf.”

“Thank you,” Sammy smiled, squeezing Wally’s hand back. “What do you think good old Tommy is going to say about it?”

“He’s going to say it’s fantastic, I bet,” Wally assured him. “After all, he wasn’t expecting us to be able to finish it by the time he gets back, if you recall right.”

“Yeah, we showed him, didn’t we,” Sammy relaxed. “I can’t wait to see the look on Thomas’ face when he sees-”

“When I see what?” their burly boyfriend walked through the door, taking off his ink stained overcoat to hang it beside the door. “You two better not have destroyed my new shelf.”

“We didn’t,” Wally promised, ushering him into the living room. Thomas stared at the shelf with surprise, eyes wide. “We put it all together, see?”

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Thomas let out a hearty laugh. “Look at you two, managing to get that up! It’s fantastic, absolutely fantastic.”

“Told you so,” Wally smugly muttered to Sammy, pinching his leg with a wink. Sammy grew as red as his coat. “Sammy built it, I kinda just read the instructions all slow.”

“Well, I’m proud of both of you,” Thomas grinned, kissing each of them, making them swoon. “I’ll make dinner tonight, as a treat for your good job.”

#wally franks #thomas connor #sammy lawrence #control writes #halfusek #sammy lawrence x wally franks #control art #thomas connor x wally franks #sammy lawrence x wally franks x thomas connor #ot3 #queue pasa?

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years

Text

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 27

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

—

Wednesday, cont’d

Hands in his pockets, Malcolm wandered his way through the house, ruminating on the letter Wally had left him. In no uncertain terms it had laid out the entire plan, his uncle’s intention behind it, and what was expected of him going forward.

He wanted to be mad- he wanted to rage and scream, to curse Wallace for his meddling, to say to hell with it all and leave, never to return. Unfortunately, the last paragraph removed the righteous cause of his anger, leaving him feeling empty, small, and ultimately sad.

At the end of it all, you are the son I never had. Watching you grow and flourish, as a father and a man, has been one of my greatest joys. Your selflessness knows no bounds, nor does your capacity for love. I recognize that my methods are unorthodox, but I trust you know my intentions are pure. You and Rose belong together in every sense of the concept, but I know your heart, your fears. She does love you, you fool, and all the world can see it – except for you. Though, if you’re reading this, you do now. I would not have gone to these lengths if you had only forgiven yourself for the past, and allowed your future to begin.

Above all else, be happy – you have a second chance at love, which not all do. Use it well. Treasure her always, and think of me from time to time.

Wallace

P.S. I expect you to name your first son ‘Wallace’, though I’ll forgive you if it’s a middle name.

Without consciously heading there, he found himself standing outside the art gallery. His great-grandfather had been an art collector, and most of his acquisitions still hung as he’d arranged, in and amongst family portraits.

I suppose we’ll have to have our portraits done as Lord and Lady, Malcolm mused, standing in the hallway with his hand on the doorknob, not quite ready to enter. He hadn’t meant to go there, but he knew Rose was inside, and had been drawn to her like a moth to the flame. I owe her an explanation for my attitude today.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, equally disappointed and relieved she wasn’t in the first room. Disappointed because he longed to be next to her always, and relieved to have a few more moments to compose himself, uncertain of what he would say or do when he found her. Crossing the room in long strides, he headed for the door that connected to the second room, finding it slightly ajar and hearing Rose’s voice from the other side.

He paused to be sure he wasn’t interrupting, heart dropping at Rose’s words.

“But that’s just it, Clar, I don’t know. He’s been so weird since we got here. I have no idea what he’s feeling. I mean, he acts like we’re… you know… in some ways, and in others, nothing’s changed except now we have sex!” She paused, and could hear the eyeroll in her sigh. “You’re my best friend and I’m in crisis. You can deal with me talking about shagging your father for one conversation. If nothing else, you owe me for everything I had to hear at uni- you were not as quiet as you thought you were.”

He could hear his daughter’s squawk from where he was, though not any words.

“Yes, I love him, but I can’t tell him,” Rose said, with the impatient air of someone tired of repeating herself, making his heart leap. “What if he doesn’t? I did make the first move! I agreed to marry him, I invited him into my bedroom under the most obvious ruse known to man- I don’t know how to make it more obvious without saying the words! He needs- I need him to say it first. I can’t. I just- I can’t.”

Heart pounding, a wide smile on his face, Malcolm backed out of the room; he’d heard all he needed to.

Now it was time to plan.

Thursday

“Rose,” he murmured, brushing her face out of her hair. “Time to wake up.”

She whimpered, turning to face into the pillow, making him laugh softly.

“Wake up, sweetheart.” Leveraging himself up he rained kisses over her hair, the only part of her accessible. “I have a surprise for you.” It had been a solid twelve hours since she said she loved him (though not to him), and he was still in awe of that fact. They loved each other, truly, and it was time for her to know as well.

“Nooooo,” she whined. “Shag later, sleep now.”

Malcolm snorted. “It’s not that, it’s a real surprise. C’mon, you’ll miss it.”

“Fuck you.”

It may have been a result of his unbridled joy and love, or maybe his lack of sleep, but he found her stubbornness in this moment absolutely adorable. “I promise it’s worth getting up for, my love,” he told her.

That got him a reaction; face turning slightly, one eye opened to peer up at him suspiciously. He just smiled in response, and after a moment, she groaned, rolled over to her back, and sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. “Do I need to change?”

“Yes, but loungewear is fine. You’re changing for temperature only,” he said, hurrying around to her side to help her out of bed. “I already laid things out for you.”

With an unimpressed expression, equal parts sleepy and mutinous, she did as he asked, pulling her nightgown over her head without any hesitation. He focused on helping her find her way through the sweatpants and hoodie; there would be time for ogling later, once she Knew. Kneeling, he guided her feet into her Uggs, before standing and offering her his hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked, a little more awake now- enough to be suspicious, apparently. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Just… trust me.”

“Fine,” she said after a moment. “But I’m gonna need tea.”

He just smiled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “I know.”

Still yawning, Rose curled around the thermos he’d brought, leaning into his side as he drove down the dark road.

They hadn’t gone too far when he turned off, on the side with the water, and parked the car.

“What’re we doing here?” She trusted him absolutely, but everything about the situation seemed right out of a true crime show episode.

Perhaps sensing her hesitation, he smiled kindly down at her. “We’re going to watch the sunrise out over the Sea.”

“The Sea?” They got out, and he held her hand, guiding her down the path to the water while carrying a picnic basket.

“North Sea- we’re only about 14 miles from the coast. By the time we get down there, the sun will be almost ready.”

She stopped walking, peering up into his face in the dark. “You’re taking me out to the North Sea to watch the sunrise.”

“Yes.” His tone shifted, coming across unsure as he asked, “Is that okay?”

Surging up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips firmly against his for a fleeting moment, grateful for the dark as her cheeks flushed. “Very much so. Now, lead on.”

The dock came into view then, a solitary light pole illuminating the area, and she gasped at seeing the boat tied up. “Is that a yacht?” For reasons unknown she’d been expecting something small, perhaps a dinky little rowboat, though in hindsight that seemed absurd to travel fifteen miles out to sea in.

“Technically it’s a ‘cabin cruiser’. Difference is in the size.”

“That’s what she said.”

He shot her an amused glance as they stepped carefully onto the dock. “This is the cleverly-named Gallifrey II. It’s a good twenty years old, but still in good condition. Jack takes her out every so often, oversees her maintenance. I promise it’s safe.”

Relatively-speaking she knew it wasn’t particularly large, but it had a little deck at the back, and appeared to have an indoor section. It looked like something she’d seen on telly, showing marinas throughout the world. It didn’t show it’s age, looking bright and clean, though if Jack was using it to romance his boyfriend, she would expect nothing less.

“Right,” Malcolm said brusquely, leaning over the side to put the basket on out of the way, “ready?”

A little nervous, but willing to trust him, she let her tongue peek out from between her teeth. “Depends. Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

He just laughed, offering her his hand.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Rose burrowed further into the woven blanket, moving the edge of it to cover her nose. It was cold, sailing out to sea in the dark. Malcolm was at the helm, steering the boat, and she’d chosen to stay with him, perched on the small seating area on top of the boat, right behind him. She could barely see him, mostly just an outline, but she still felt safe and cozy despite the temperature. Her better judgement was telling her to go down into the cabin out of the cold, but she resisted the urge, choosing instead to stay with her husband, watching the lights along the coast zip by.

Her nerves were doing their best to keep her warm though, as she wondered what this all meant. The idea of it was certainly romantic, and she was hoping for a confession of love, something to put her fears to rest and allow her heart to be free, but she was trying to temper those hopes so she wouldn’t be disappointed if she was wrong.

She wanted to be right.

“Just another minute or so,” Malcolm called behind him as the coast seemed to curve. “I want to make sure we’re out of the way, but with no view obstructions.”

“Okay,” she shouted back, unsure if he could hear her. Other boats were in the waters now, ones like theirs, fishing boats, and ferries all starting their day early as well. She could just hear shouts and calls in the distance, see people greeting each other as if they were passing on the street instead of at sea. She hadn’t been on the boat all that long, but already she could picture them taking sailing trips, exploring the world by sea, maybe with a few sleepy children pressed up against her, waiting for the sun to rise as they did now.

She liked the image.

The noise of the engine abruptly cut, dropping to almost nothing, as Malcolm made his way back to her. “Here’s as good a spot as any, I think,” he said, picking up the basket and setting it on the seat next to her. “Budge up, let me behind you.”

They shifted around, eventually settling with him in the corner, Rose snug up to his front and the blanket encircling both of them. His arms were tight around her waist, holding her close, and she felt… loved. The words were on the tip of her tongue when he inhaled sharply.

“Look.”

She followed his fingers to a spot where the darkness seemed to be lightening. Slowly the sun rose as they sipped at their tea, Rose relaxing back into his comfortable chest and strong grip. This is heaven. Those three words hovered on the tip of her tongue; so strong was the urge she said nothing lest they slip out of their own free will.

It didn’t take long for the sun to clear the horizon, bathing everything in beautiful hues of pink and orange, so spectacular it belonged on a postcard.

“What did you think?” Malcolm murmured in her ear, once the best of it was over. “Worth getting up?”

She turned so she could see him, careful to not disturb their nest of blankets too much and let the cold air in. “Oh, it was incredible. Thank you. I just- there are no words.” That was a lie; there were three, but she didn’t dare risk ruining the moment.

Malcolm smiled back, but it faded quickly as his eyes searched hers, making her heart pound in anticipation.

Say it, her heart whispered to him. Tell me, so I can tell you, and we can be happy forever. Say it. Please.

“Rose…”

Here it is!

“We need to talk.”

What?

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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singledarkshade · 5 years

Text

The Usual Plan

Summary: Accepting Gideon's offer of help to find an object he's been looking for, John does not expect the help to be Rip Hunter. John intends to find out what happened to the other man after they finish the job at hand. If he doesn't deck Rip first. Author’s Note: This was written for the RipChat Holiday Exchange. Enjoy. ********************************************* John walked out the portal onto a beach, staggering slightly when the soft damp sand gave way beneath his feet. Confused he looked around the empty expanse before him, grimacing as it began to rain. Not heavy but enough to make the day miserable.

“Well, typical,” he sighed, starting to walk along to find his way off the beach wondering why Gideon had dumped him here of all places.

When Chas had called with a sighting in Ireland of one of John’s top ten ‘need to get’ magical items, he’d told Sara he was taking some time away to check into the sighting. While he was pulling together a few things he would need, John was surprised when Gideon advised him of co-ordinates from her database near the village he was going to, that would lead to someone who may be able to assist in the search. It didn’t make any sense that she’d sent him to a deserted beach.

“What the hell am I doing here?” John sighed to the ocean.

“Gideon thought I could be of some help with your search,” the familiar voice came from behind him.

John spun, nearly falling in the soft wet sand and stared as Rip Hunter, supposedly deceased almost two years ago, stood leaning against a large rock with an amused smile on his face.

“What the bloody hell,” John demanded marching over, annoyed by the way the sand made him sink with each step, “You’re not dead.”

Rip shrugged, “And you are as observant as always, John.”

John clenched his fists, trying very hard not to just deck the smug arse, “Why…”

“Why have I not let everyone know I survived overloading the time-core?” Rip asked lightly, “Let me think about that for a few minutes.”

John rolled his eyes, “You are still an utter smug bastard, you know that don’t you?”

Rip shrugged again before noting, “Gideon felt that I would be able to help in your search, so she gave me a call and here I am.”

“Then Gideon knows…”

Rip laughed, “Of course she knows I’m alive. Do you think I wouldn’t tell her? The lecture for using the Time Core against Mallus was bad enough,” he shrugged, “Not to mention I reappeared in the world on the Waverider, so it was not possible to hide from her.”

“So,” John started, not looking back as he headed to the path leading off the sand knowing Rip was following, “Where have you been for the last two years?”

“Six months,” Rip replied, catching up with John, “It has only been six months since I fell out the timestream.” He took a breath before adding, “I headed to Tibet and met up with Wally West again. I’m still protecting time, with his help, just a little differently than before. Gideon makes sure that we don’t cross paths with anyone we don’t want to.”

John mused on this information for a moment before deciding to move to the reason he was here. Rip was hiding something, but they didn’t have the time to pursue that conversation right now. He’d get back to it once they’d finished their mission and had access to a lot of alcohol.

“Did Gideon by any chance give you information on what I’m looking for?” John asked as they reached the top of the hill.

Rip nodded, “She said it’s some kind of knife.”

“Dagger,” John corrected automatically, annoyed to see Rip’s amused smirk that he’d risen to the bait. As much as he liked Rip, and he did, they were good friends but when he was in one of those moods Rip Hunter could be a complete pain in the arse.

“It’s called the ‘Lumen Dagger’,” John explained, “It has been lost for centuries technically except it seems to pop up every few decades to cause trouble before disappearing again. I’ve been after it for years.”

Rip frowned in thought, “Lumen means light in Latin. Is that an indication of what it does or just the name because someone thought it sounded nice?”

John grimaced, “It enslaves people’s souls and allows the person who wields it to control them, but it also steals that person’s soul and they die a slow agonising death.”

“Of course, I should have known better than to ask,” Rip rolled his eyes, they reached the top of the path which lead them onto a street with four houses and he asked, “Do you know where it is?”

John grimaced, “Not exactly but,” he stopped whatever smart remark Rip was about to make, “I have an idea on how to get information on both it and where it might be.”

“And what is that?”

Pointing to the building just across from them, John smiled, “We need a pub.”

Rip followed his friend inside the building, finding it about half full. Which considering the size of the room wasn’t exactly hard, the addition of the two of them practically pushed it to capacity. He watched thoughtfully as John sauntered up to the bar and ordered one drink.

When Gideon contacted him to help John in his quest, Rip had been surprised as she had, until that moment, been in complete agreement with his decision to stay well away from the Legends.

It wasn’t easy, being away from Gideon once more. Allowing the Legends to take her to stop Mallus had been heart-breaking but Gideon reminded him that it was the only plan they had that had any chance of succeeding. She just wasn’t happy that he had basically had to kill himself to ensure it did. Not that they didn’t talk at least once every day. She kept him up to date on what the team were doing, he made suggestions every so often that Gideon could use to help them. He told her what he was doing, and they just chatted the way they always did but it had been six months since he’d left his ship, his home, again.

Shaking himself Rip refocussed on John. It had surprised him to learn that the ‘Dabbler In the Dark Arts’ had joined the crew but it was good to know he was there since the last Rip had heard of John had been concerning.

“Should I even ask?” Rip grimaced at the single pint of Guinness John was carrying very carefully.

“You know that’s never a good idea,” John replied, walking past him and outside once more.

Rip followed on behind, wondering what his friend planned to do. The Dark Arts had never been something he’d studied much, although he was no slouch because Rip couldn’t not study something, having a friend who was steeped in them meant he always had someone to ask for the really bad or unexplainable stuff. It just didn’t help when his friend was the one doing the unexplainable things. They walked behind the pub across the grass, the rain had thankfully stopped and the ground wasn’t too soggy, until they were far enough away from the village.

John gently placed the pint glass down in the grass, making sure it was steady before fishing out a gold coin from his pocket.

“Oh, you’re not?” Rip demanded, realising what John was about to do.

John nodded, “Best way to get information in this part of the world.”

Dropping his face into his hand, Rip groaned, “Weren’t you the one who told me about the total and utter chaos that happened the last time you did this?”

“Well, if you have a better idea,” John replied, “I’m all ears.”

Letting out a slightly annoyed sigh, Rip motioned him to get on with it.

John pulled out a packet of salt and passed it to Rip, “Just in case.”

“That makes me feel safe,” Rip sighed, taking a step back to allow John to summon the creature.

Marking out a circle of salt in the grass, John placed the gold piece beside the pint glass. He circled the glass with salt as well and said the incantation to summon the leprechaun. Most leprechaun’s liked whiskey but the one he was aiming to call, the one who owed John a favour, preferred Guinness.

Light filled the circle, fading to reveal a small man standing in the centre of the salt circle. He was dressed in green, as expected but didn’t look anything like tv and movie versions. He had short red hair and carried a small but very sharp looking sword. After checking the edge of the circle, he moved slowly to the gold piece, licking his finger he drew it across the metal before tasting it.

“Real gold,” the Leprechaun stated looking up at them, “And a full pint. This must be some favour you need, John Constantine.”

“It is, Turlough,” John said.

Turlough glanced up at Rip, “And him?”

“He’s not important,” John replied, smirking at Rip, “Look, I need to know if a dangerous object is loose in the country. I need you to check and, Turlough this is and, not if you feel like it. And give me a location.”

The man thought it over for a few moments, “If I do this then my debt to you is paid?”

“Yes,” John nodded.

Turlough grinned, “Then tell me what you want me to find?”

“The Lumen Dagger.”

Surprise filled the Leprechaun’s eyes, “That’s a very dangerous item to be looking for, John Constantine.”

“Which is why I need to get it out of the world and into a safe place,” he replied.

“Then I’ll be back soon.”

The bright green light filled the circle once more and when it faded the small man was gone.

John turned to Rip, “He’ll be back soon.”

They stood waiting in silence before, in unison, both men’s phones began to buzz. John pulled out his mobile and rolled his eyes seeing who was calling.

“Yes, Sara,” he answered, seeing Rip moving slightly further away as he took his own call.

“Just checking in and making sure you haven’t got yourself in a jam,” Sara told him.

John glanced across to where Rip was talking, his back to John to ensure his conversation wasn’t overheard.

“I’m fine,” John told her, “Met up with an old friend who’s giving me a hand.”

“Are you sure you don’t need some more help?” Sara asked hopefully, “I’m happy to come join you.”

John chuckled, “Bored?”

“Just thought you might need some assistance,” Sara replied lightly, before confessing, “And we have nothing to do at the moment.”

With another glance at Rip’s back, John had a fleeting moment of wanting to say yes just to watch the reunion. He’d heard tales of them butting heads but had never witnessed the bloodshed. John decided against it, as amusing as it might be, he was too busy to make a trip to the hospital. Not to mention Rip would probably never speak to him ever again.

“I’m fine, love,” John assured her, “See you in a few days.”

Without giving her a chance to say anything else he hung up before walking over to Rip.

“Thanks Wally. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back,” Rip said before hanging up and looking at John, “Problems?”

“Just Sara checking in,” he replied.

Rip waited, expecting John to tell him that Sara was about to appear, relieved that the words didn’t come. Letting John know he was alive had been a decision that was debated for several hours with Gideon, she finally persuaded him to let the other man know. He trusted John but did not want Sara or the others know.

Thankfully before John could ask about Rip’s phone call, Turlough returned.

“What do you have for me?” John asked the small man.

Turlough’s eyes moved to the pint glass sitting in the circle of salt.

“You’ll get it when you give me my answers,” John reminded the little man.

Annoyance covered Turlough’s face before he shrugged, “Your dagger is in a cave. But another group of people have already found it.”

“Who are they?” Rip asked.

Turlough looked up at him, “The kind of idiots who think robes are a good fashion choice.”

Rip and John shared a look, that was never a good thing.

“Where is the cave?” John demanded sharply.

Turlough shrugged, “I don’t know what you call it, but I can send you there. Once I get my pint.”

John laughed, “Like I’m going to give you that first.”

“Then how do we do this?” Rip demanded annoyed.

John frowned, musing for a moment before asking, “Do you have any of your weird little doo-hickey devices that might be able to break the circle after he’s sent us where we want to go?”

“Doo-hickey?” Rip asked amused, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes, “You’ve been spending far too much time with the Legends.”

“And the answer to my question is?”

Rip mused for a moment checking his pockets, finding a small pod that he had created originally to blow the lock off a door, “I could modify this.”

“I’ve seen you use that before,” John noted before asking, “Didn’t it blow a hole in a wall last time you used it?”

“In my defence,” Rip stated, “I was trying to destroy the building so upped the explosive power. But I can fix it so that on a timer this lets out a small energy blast that removes the salt.”

“And doesn’t destroy my pint?” Turlough demanded.

Rip shrugged, “In theory.”

“Well, considering it’s our only option,” John motioned Rip to proceed.

Pulling out his tools, Rip quickly lowered the explosive capabilities of the pod and set a twenty second timer. Nodding to John, Rip held the button down ready to drop it.

John prepared himself to be transported by the leprechaun into a completely unknown situation. Although Turlough was getting something out of it, there was always a chance the creature would dump them somewhere dangerous just for kicks. Leprechauns could be mischievous little buggers at times.

“Alright then,” Turlough said, clapping his hands together, “Let’s go.”

As the magic enveloped them, Rip dropped the energy pod just before the landscape shifted around them from grassy hills to dark brown rock surrounding them.

“Good luck,” Turlough’s voice echoed as he disappeared, his voice coming a few seconds later, “My pint is intact.”

Rip rolled his eyes, “Well, at least that went well today. Any ideas where we are?”

“In a cave is all I know at the moment,” John replied as he searched his pockets for the detector he’d made before leaving the Waverider, “Give me a minute and I’ll check Turlough sent us to the right place.”

Rip stood silently watching as John made a few additional marks on the detector before murmuring the incantation. The detector began to glow, and a small beam of light extended into the cave.

Rip let out an annoyed sigh, “And of course we have to go into the dark, damp caves.”

John chuckled as they both pulled out torches.

“Just once, can we not find one of these things in…I don’t know…a well-lit pub?” Rip demanded as he followed John into the cave, feeling the air around them cooling.

“To be fair, we found the statue that nearly got us both decapitated in a theatre,” John reminded him.

Rip nodded, “Fine, I concede there was at least one time it wasn’t a dark dank cave or sewer we’ve traipsed through.”

Before John could retort a small light appeared at the end of the tunnel in front of them, “I think we’ve found our new friends.”

On cue, a soft chanting filled the air around them, and Rip winced.

“Why do they always chant?” John sighed, “It’s not asking for much that they do a rock number, hell I’d even take something from a musical but no, they have to chant.”

“I’ll put it in their suggestion box,” Rip said wryly.

John sighed, “At least it’s not ‘Don’t Bring Me Down’. I can’t listen to that song anymore without feeling sick.”

“You chose the song,” Rip reminded him.

“How was I to know the slime demons were ELO fans,” John retorted, “You know I was banned from that pub after the mess.”

Rip chuckled at the memory as the two men continued to creep slowly towards the light and noise, John shutting off his detector so that they weren’t seen as they crouched behind the rocks. In the centre of a small group, who were all wearing black robes with the crest of a dagger stabbed through a heart sewn onto the front of it, was the Lumen Dagger in a clear casing.

John swore suddenly, “The Obsidian Cult, of course it would be them. Honestly you’d think they’d have given up after the last time they ran into us.”

“Is the dagger encased in glass?” Rip murmured, trying to get a proper look around the cultists standing between them and their objective.

John shook his head, “From the stories I’ve read about the last time it was loose, the dagger was supposedly encased in diamond by the sorceress who found it.”

“Well that gives us some time if they’re trying to release it from the encasing,” Rip mused softly, before asking, “How are we playing this?”

John mused for a few moments, “You shoot, I attack with fire and, while they panic, you grab the dagger.”

“So, our usual plan?”

With a slight laugh, John nodded, “What can go wrong?” he smiled at the frown Rip gave him before adding, “Just don’t touch it with your bare hands.”

Rip nodded sliding on his leather gloves before he pulled out his gun, readying it to fire. He tilted his head listening to the sounds coming from the cave nearby, “They’ve started a new chant.”

“Then we have to stop them now,” John readied himself, “For the sake of music lovers everywhere.”

John spoke the incantation and magical fire began to swirl around his fingers before he turned to Rip, “Let’s go.”

With a quick nod, Rip stepped forward and began to shoot taking out the surprised cultists as John ran in behind him. Several men rushed John who let out a blast of fire, his entire body alight with magic.

“Rip,” John snapped, “Grab it.”

Spinning out the way of one of the robed figures who tried to attack him, Rip then ducked slamming into another’s stomach and flipping the man over his shoulder. John let out another blast of fire just as Rip reached the dagger encased in diamond. The moment he took a hold of the dagger, a jolt of energy went through him and Rip felt power ripple through him.

“Rip!!!” John yelled, his voice sounding far away.

Rip looked at the weapon he was holding, it was so much more powerful than John had told him, it had power to do everything. To save those he’d lost, to save the people his friends had lost. To give Gideon a human form she had mentioned wanting once or twice, although he knew she wanted it mostly so she could smack him around the head for sacrificing himself.

“Rip,” John called again, appearing before him the fire still twirling around his fingers, “I know what it’s offering but you know it’s not real. Remember what the power the Time Masters craved did to them.”

“I can save…”

“No,” John cut him off before Rip could even finish the thought, “The dagger steal souls, and it will steal the soul of anyone you try to bring back before it takes yours.”

Rip stared at the dagger, “But…”

“No,” John interrupted again, “I know you want them back, I know you miss Miranda and Jonas,” Rip’s head came up at the names and John continued keeping Rip focussed on him, “But you can’t use this to bring them back to you. It won’t be them and you know that,” John reached out, “Give the dagger to me.”

Slowly Rip passed John the dagger and let out a gasp as the energy left him instantly. Reaching out, Rip gripped the wall to keep himself steady watching his friend while he wrapped the dagger in a black velvet cloth.

“Sorry,” Rip whispered.

John rested his hand on Rip’s shoulder, “I know how tempting it must have been for you. Unlike others in the past, you didn’t give in.”

Activating his Time Courier, Rip sighed, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

*********************************************

The Mill House was quiet when the two men entered it. Heading to the main room, Rip watched John pull out a wooden chest covered in symbols, open it and carefully place the cloth covered dagger inside.

“Got to do a few rituals,” John told him, “Make some tea, would you?”

Understanding that John needed solitude, Rip headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, so he knew where everything was. Rip just hoped John hadn’t decided to store something disgusting in the fridge next to the milk again.

“Gideon,” he activated his communicator while filling the kettle.

“Is everything alright, Captain?” concern filled her voice.

Rip chuckled, “We’re fine. We found the Dagger and are currently back in the Mill House so John can neutralise it. Why do you always assume the worse when I call you outside the agreed time?”

“Because it is you,” Gideon replied amused, “And you have a habit of getting into trouble without me.”

He laughed as he pulled out two mugs and found the teabags, “I suppose I do.”

“How much does Mr Constantine know about your return?” Gideon asked.

Rip grimaced, he knew she’d get straight to that question but had hoped they could just talk for a few more minutes before she did.

“That I’ve been back six months and I’m working with Wally,” Rip shrugged, tossing a teabag into each mug.

He could feel her disapproval in the silence before Gideon asked, “Is that all?”

“Gideon…”

“You know he can be trusted,” Gideon reminded him sternly, “That is why I suggested you help him today.”

Rip sighed, “I know.”

“Rip,” Gideon’s concern filled her voice, “Let him know everything. He will not tell the others.”

Finished making the two mugs of tea, Rip took a sip of his own before he sighed, “I’ll invite him for dinner.”

“Dinner?” John frowned confused as they exited the portal just outside the small village, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always happy to be fed and I know you can cook better than I can but…”

“But?” Rip asked lightly as he started them walking through the village.

John grimaced before demanding, “Why am I really here?”

Rip swallowed, “Because I wanted you to know the truth about why I’ve not let anyone know I’m back.”

Concern covered John’s face, he knew there was more going on than Rip had told him and had been wondering how to get his friend to talk.

“Okay then,” John said as they reached a small cottage, “What’s the truth?”

Before Rip could answer another voice filled the air the moment Rip opened the door.

“Daddy, you’re back!!!”

“Jonas,” John breathed in astonishment, watching Rip crouch and catch the little boy in his arms who hugged him tightly.

Rip laughed as he held his son, “You didn’t miss me, did you?” When Jonas nodded, he gave him a mock frown, “But you were in school all day. How did you have the time?”

“You didn’t pick me up,” Jonas reminded him.

Rip hugged his son again, rubbing his back soothingly when Jonas tucked his head against Rip’s neck, “Wally was there, and I only couldn’t pick you up because I had to help a friend.”

Realising there was someone else there Jonas turned and grinned in delight, “Uncle John.”

Jonas threw himself from Rip’s arms into John’s and John held the little boy in a tight embrace, “Oh, it’s so good to see you, kiddo.”

“Are you here to have dinner with us?” Jonas demanded.

John nodded, putting the little boy down, “I am.”

“If you stay longer then you can have hot chocolate too before bedtime,” Jonas grinned, looking over at his father with such innocence.

“Nice try, little man,” Rip laughed, kissing his son’s hair, “Go and play, I’ll call you for dinner and, if you’re good, you can have hot chocolate before bed.”

Jonas grinned before he bounced away.

“I don’t know,” Rip pre-empted John’s question not turning from watching his son bounce over to the other children playing nearby, “My last memory is overloading the Time Core to try to give the Legends time to defeat Mallus. There was bright golden light and then it all went black. I opened my eyes and I was on the bridge of the Waverider with Jonas in my arms. I don’t know how I returned and have absolutely no idea how my son was with me. I’m just grateful that I have him back.”

John nodded in understanding, “So you brought him here to raise him in a safe environment.”

“As safe as I could find,” Rip said softly, “Away from the Legends and the Time Bureau, but with someone who could help me ensure time remains protected. Gideon and I discussed it for hours until we decided this was the best place.”

Watching Jonas running around with the other children, John nodded, “He looks happy and healthy.”

Rip smiled, “He is. And he needs to be fed so come on.”

As his friend entered the cottage John stood for a moment and watched the little boy who called him ‘Uncle John’, understanding why Rip couldn’t return to the life he used to live and why he wanted to stay away from people who were trouble magnets.

“So,” John called as he wandered into the cottage behind his friend, “What’s for dinner?”

#fic #legends of tomorow #rip hunter #john constantine #gideon #holiday exchange fic

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silent-writer83 · 5 years

Text

Let’s Do It Baby, I Know The Law

”Summary: Successful in saving Iris, there are some unforeseen costs. So, with little time left, you decide to live it up consequences be damned. When Savitar comes for you, you’ve got a few choice words in mind for him.

A/N: Tbh I just wanted to write the reader drunkenly mouthing off to Savitar. If you know what this quote is from, ily.

Changing the timeline always came at a cost, you all knew that. Hell, if you didn’t by now then you were just being purposefully ignorant. What no one expected, no matter how many times they toyed with it, was the cost they would be paying. Saving Iris was the goal, its what everyone focused so heavily on that they didn’t think twice about rearranging events. They didn’t think about the little things they were tweaking and the effect that it would have on another’s life. They didn’t think because they didn’t care.

In the end you were successful, waiting with bated breath as Cisco vibed Barry to the future yet again to see if their efforts were worth it. Of course the latino was giving a play by play, each person in the cortex hanging on his every word. You sat, hands in your lap, practically vibrating on the edge of your seat as they named the differences. “Savitar just arrived,” Cisco breathed and you could have sworn your heart stopped.

“Okay? And!” You urged, scooting to the edge as your eyes trained on your two friends. “Did it work?! Did we save Iris?” you asked the question on everyone’s mind, only, an answer didn’t come. Confused, and assuming that your plans were thwarted yet again, you slumped in your seat with a sigh.

Caitlin bit her lip to hide her disappointment as she looked over meaningless papers on her clipboard to look busy. H.R’s shoulders slumped as he gripped his drumsticks tightly. Wally did his best not to react, averting his gaze as he quelled his frustration and Joe hugged Iris to his chest. The defeat in the room was palpable as you turned back to your desk with a heavy sigh, the glance Cisco shared with Barry going unseen.

Cisco didn’t know what to say, hoping that Barry would, but when their eyes met he knew the hero was at just as much of a loss as he was. Swallowing the nerves in his belly, Cisco folded his goggles as he turned to his friends in the room. How was he supposed to say this? How could they be happy about this? Why couldn’t they just have one clean win?

“Um,” his voice cracked as he broke the silence, everyone’s head snapping in his direction. Being under direct scrutiny just made him want to shrivel up, avoiding their expectant, anxious gazes.

“We saved Iris,” Barry spoke up, forcing the cheer in his voice. The sigh of relief that filled the room only broke his heart as Cisco watched Iris rush to her fiance.

Perking up at your desk, a smile was already dancing on your features. “Yes!” you cheered, joy filling the room as everyone felt the weight of the world lift off their shoulders. Of course, nothing good could last around here, Iris being the first to pick up on Barry’s stiffness. She always could read him like a book.

“What’s wrong Bar?” She asked, pulling back just enough to look at him. Barry chewed his lip as he looked to Cisco for guidance. By now everyone was inching closer, confused as to why Barry wasn’t more excited. His wife-to-be was going to live so what’s the deal?

“We saved you but...” he faltered, stepping back as he turned to look at you. Lips parted to speak but he found the words caught in his throat. How could he say this to you, after everything you’ve done, after everything you’ve given them - him - as a friend.

“Alright dude, quit lookin’ at me like that. It’s freakin’ me out,” you laughed away your discomfort as all eyes turned to you. You didn’t like the pity in Barry’s gaze, the pain as he tried to say words that wouldn’t come. “We saved Iris what’s the big de-”

“You die!” Cisco blurted out, tense as he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and turned his back.

The shock was clear as day on your face as you stood dumbfounded. You hadn’t thought of the consequences of rearranging the timeline but shit, you weren’t expecting this! Blinking, you took a breath, opening your mouth to speak but, like Barry, you were at a loss for words. Your mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on, couldn’t wrap around the idea that, just moments ago you were meant to live a semi-normal, happy life and now....now you only had a few days left.

Abruptly you turned, heels clicking on their way out of the cortex. You were on autopilot, mind blank and yet buzzing all at the same time. You could hear their voices calling after you, not wanting you to leave. How could they protect you if you weren’t there?! So you paused at the entry way, the calmness with which you turned setting them all on edge.

“I’m....gonna get really drunk,” you stated, moving as if to add to that before shaking your head and leaving. Yeah, you definitely needed a drink.....a stiff one.

“LET’S GET FUCKED UP!” Your voice drowned in the bass of the music, bodies writhing and jumping to the sound around you. The small glass cup in your hand was pressed to your lips, head tilting back as the cool liquid slipped down your throat. The burn had long since faded as your senses skewed from too much alcohol. What did you care anyways? Your days were limited, or was it hours now? WHO CARED YOU WERE DRUNK BITCH!

Laughter fell from your lips as you stumbled out onto the dance floor, plucking a drink from a tray as you passed. Whatever you grabbed was sweet, washing down your throat as you shimmied into the ground. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket for, you didn’t even know how many times. Like all the others it went completely ignored. You were drunk but happy, not a care in the world, and that’s how you wanted it to stay.

“Cisco, did she answer?” Barry’s voice spoke through the coms. He was zipping through Central City looking for you. How one person seemed to disappear so fast was unsettling. It was nearly two in the morning and Barry was starting to fear the worst.

“No,” Cisco sighed, the defeat was in his voice as he fiddled with his screens.

“Can’t you like...triangulate or something?!” Barry huffed, getting frustrated at his inability to find you.

“Oh yeah, because I haven’t tried that before,” Cisco shot back with a huff of his own.

Caitlin stepped up, offering a reassuring (though tense) smile to Cisco. Hands on the top of the desk, she leaned over so she could talk into the com. “Y/N would always go to Club Lavo,” She suggested with a hopeful tone.

Without a second thought Barry was rushing off, zipping through the streets of Central City.

Barry’s eyes darted around the dark club, squinting against the flashing lights. He was looking for your familiar mop of hair, groaning when he couldn’t make out much. Thank god he had his powers. Darting through the crowd, it only took a few moments to find you. Arms wrapped around your center, not thinking twice before rushing back to the Cortex.

The world rushed around you in too fast movements, halting all at once leaving you dizzy and stumbling. Legs wobbled as you attempted to step, stomach lurching as you doubled over. Barry had a can in front of you just in time for you to spill out stomach acid and what remained of a cocktail, grimacing at the sounds of your gagging.

The tell tale crackling of lighting had heads snapping to the doorway, hearts lurching as that eerie doppleganger made himself known. The smirk on his mangled face was cocky as he sauntered in, eyeing each and every horrified face. Savitar took pride in the way they tensed, the way they all seemed to skirt around you as if that would make a difference. Oh how feeble they all were. “Hand her over and I’ll let you all live,” He mused, reveling in the games he played with them.

“Like hell that’s gonna happen,” Barry quipped, refusing to let his future self have it easy.

“We can do it the hard way Barry. I’m faster than you, stronger. I am a GO-”

“Oh shut UP!” You whined, pushing past the Scarlet Speedster as you stumbled out from the protective little bubble your friends made. “You, sir,” you slurred as you waved a finger in Savitar’s face. “May fuggoff!” Stumbling back, a hand pressed to your lips as you felt your stomach gurgle. You weren’t about to let that stop your tirade though. “You think you kin juss waltz in here like you own the place? Newsflash, bro, you don’t. Dis my house,” you quipped, clapping to make your point. “In here, talm bout ‘I’m a God. Grrrr bow down to me,’“ you mocked the man you had all come to fear. “Like, who even are you?”

Savitar’s jaw clenched as he glared at you, hands fisting at his sides. Embarrassment began to crawl along his neck, staining his cheeks a soft red as you taunted him. How dare you?! You were meant to fear him!

“And another thing!” You started, turning back to him as you stumbled your way over. “You’re a digghead!” you fumbled the words as syllables began to slide together, finger jabbing the self-proclaimed God of Speed in the chest. “Oh wahhh, I didn’t like myself so I’m gonna go kill his wife. Like, talk bout small dick energy amirite?” you snorted, turning to your friends as you doubled over in laughter.

They all stared at you, wide eyed and slack jawed, unable to figure out just how they felt. On one hand it was hilarious, watching you verbally berate this so called God of Speed, on the other hand it was terrifying because they knew how ruthless the future Barry Allen could be.

“Should....I be offended by that?” Barry whispered softly to Cisco who merely shook his head with a small shrug. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what to make of all of this.

Glaring down at you, Savitar felt his heart fumble in his chest. He didn’t like the way you talked to carelessly to him, the way there was no fear in your eyes. Surely you knew he was the one to end your life. Why weren’t you acting like it! “I’ll slaughter your entire family if you’re no careful,” he ground out, hoping that, at the very least, would put you in your place.

Whirling around you stood straight, arms out beckoning him to prove it. “Let’s do it baby, I know the law!”

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youngjusticeslut · 6 years

Text

Love, Actually

Fandom: Young Justice Links: FF.net // AO3 Characters: Roy Will Harper, Kaldur’ahm, Artemis Crock, Lian Harper, Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Jaime Reyes, Bart Allen, M’gann M’orzz, Conner Kent, Virgil Hawking, Traci Thurston, Violet Harper, Brion Markov, Forager Ships: Wonderbird, Karen/Mal, Dick/Barbara, Bluepulse, Supermartian, Briolet Summary: Everyone spends Valentine's day differently. A quick glimpse into the lives of many different couples, and some singles. Rating: T Word Count: 4793 Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone <3

“I trust that the shipment of military goods has reached its destination without alarm?” Kaldur asked, looking over his notes. He’d reached the bottom of his list, now it was just the smaller matters that needed addressing.

“More or less,” Captain Marvel answered. “There were a few distractions.”

“But the end result remains the same,” Martian Manhunter assured. “The shipment is settled and on route to those who need it.”

“Excellent,” Wonder Woman announced. “Is there anything else, Aquaman?”

Kaldur glanced down his list again. In his pocket, his phone continued to vibrate. It had been going off without pause since the start of the meeting. He knew it wasn’t urgent, for if it was, an alert would have sounded off at the Watchtower. Curiosity was starting to get the better of him, however.

The remainder of the list could wait for another time.

“No, we have covered everything. Meeting adjourned,” he declared, nodding to Wonder Woman’s hologram. She nodded back, then vanished. He stayed behind, taking the time to say goodbye to each and every leaguer. Kaldur always made sure that he was the last person in the room after these meetings. It gave him a sense of peace, knowing everyone was headed off to other things. Only once the room had cleared did he bother to fish out his phone.

Sixteen new messages lit up Kaldur’s screen. The vast majority of them were the same, wishing him a happy Valentine’s Day. He hummed to himself, reading each one. Some even contained pictures. His favorite was of Lian and Will, faces pressed close to the camera, both covered in frosting. Kaldur smiled, almost wanting to call Will and find out the whole story, but a quick glance at the time told him that Will would be at Bowhunter for the next few hours; the conversation would have to wait.

In all truth, Kaldur had forgotten that it was Valentine’s day. Between managing the League and continuing to maintain his secrets, he did not have much time to devote to personal matters. Twirling his phone in his hands, his mind began to wander to someone who did. Someone who had far too much time on her hands, especially today. He unlocked his phone for the second time and found her number, dialing and pressing the speaker to his ear.

“ Hello? ”

“Tell me you are not where I think you are.”

A sigh. “ No such luck. ”

Kaldur frowned. “Is this going to become a yearly occurrence?”

“ Did you call to check in, or lecture me? ”

“The former, admittedly. Are you alright?”

“ Never better .” Her voice said otherwise. Kaldur gripped the phone tight in his hand, debating on whether or not to say something. On one hand, it wasn’t his place. It was absolutely none of his business what she did with her time. On the other hand, she was his friend, and she was hurting.

“Do you wish for company?”

“ You don’t have to. ”

Kaldur almost smiled. If she had said no, it would have meant she wanted to be alone. But she hadn’t said no. “Two minutes, Tigress.”

Artemis said goodbye and hung up the call, putting the phone back in her pocket. Letting out a deep breath, she stared back up at Wally’s hologram.

“Will and I were up half the night baking cupcakes for Lian’s Valentine’s day party. A bunch of toddlers hyped up on sugar sounds like a terrible idea to me, but I’m not the one dealing with the repercussions,” she said, setting a cupcake down at the foot of the hologram. “Double chocolate with heart-shaped sprinkles. You can tell that I made this one, because it looks like shit.”

Artemis hadn’t meant to make coming to the Grotto a yearly thing. Her first Valentine’s day without Wally, she’d been lonely and needed to see his face. She hadn’t wanted anyone to see her pore over pictures or videos, so she sought the private intimacy of the Grotto. Admittedly, she’d felt better after talking to his hologram. Artemis had promised herself that she didn’t need to do it this year, that she had plenty going on in her life and she didn’t need to come.

Yet here she was.

It was increasingly pathetic, but the moment Lian was at daycare, Will was at work and Halo was at school, she’d felt the loneliness tugging at her heart. Ten minutes hadn’t passed before Artemis had put on her shoes and headed for the nearest Zeta. Pathetic, but it helped. Nobody would have known if she’d just kept her big mouth shut the previous year and hadn’t admitted the truth to Kaldur. But now he knew, and now he was on his way.

Artemis felt his presence before she saw him. It was amazing how connected they both were after working so closely undercover. She turned, cocking her head to the side in a hello. “You rang?”

Kaldur nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Do I get a cupcake?”

“No, I just brought one. But we have more at home.”

“I know,” Kaldur said, lifting his eyes to stare at the hologram of his fallen friend. He wasn’t able to look for more than a couple seconds before he had to glance away. “Will told me I could come over.”

Artemis nodded and then crossed her arms. “I’m fine, Kal. Really.”

“I know.”

“And I should get going. I’m going to be late for work,” Artemis groaned, gently shrugging away from Kaldur’s hand and fixing her ponytail. “Some Valentine’s Day, huh?”

“Indeed. If you need me-”

“I know,” Artemis finished for him, shooting him a grin. “I promise I’m okay. Walk me out?”

“I think I will take a few more minutes.” Kaldur’s feet moved of their own accord until he found himself in front of Tula’s hologram.

Artemis watched him and thought it best not to get into it; if she did, she really would be late to work. She left the Grotto, pulling out her phone again. Speaking of Valentine’s day, there was a certain bat she needed to check on.

If ur late 2 training again and leave me w/the lovebirds, you’ll be missing ur namesake by nightfall

Dick couldn’t help but laugh as he read Artemis’ text. “Think I should take that challenge?” he asked his girlfriend, showing her the text. Barbara’s eyes glanced across the screen before she shook her head.

“Too risky. Your namesake is far too useful,” she growled, pulling him closer. Dick smirked, leaning down to kiss his girlfriend. Their first Valentine’s day together was off to an excellent start. He had snuck into her apartment late the previous night, but Barbara was happy to have him. From the moment his eyes had opened she was all over him, and for once Dick had nowhere to be, so he was more than happy to oblige.

Dick pulled back from the kiss, leaning against Barbara’s chest. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“So the Boy Wonder remembered this year.”

“Hey, technically we weren’t together last year,” Dick reminded, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Barbara pushed herself up against her pillows, raising her brow. “Didn’t stop you from coming over.”

“I love it when you banter with me,” he mused, tucking some hair behind his girlfriend’s ear. “It’s the best kind of foreplay.”

“Round two already? You’ve got a lot of energy this morning,” Barbara teased, pulling him down for another kiss.

Dick kissed her back, nipping at her bottom lip. “Well, what can I say? It’s not the holiday of love every morning.” He backed up, cracking his neck with a satisfying pop. Barbara watched as he clambered off the bed, looking for his discarded jeans.

“If you pull out a jewelry box from your pants pocket, I may actually kill you.”

“Not even ten am and my life has been threatened twice. Business as usual,” Dick sighed as he indeed slid a black rectangle out of his jeans pocket. “Just let me be a good boyfriend.”

“A cliche boyfriend,” Barbara groaned, trying to get comfortable against the pillows. But even she couldn’t hide the interest in her voice. Try as she might to deny it, she wanted the present.

Just as Dick was about to hand it over, he held it out of reach. “I mean if you don’t want it.”

“You already bought it.”

“I could return it.”

“Grayson, give me the box,” Barbara demanded. “Is it ugly?”

“Yes, Bruce picked it out.” Barbara rolled her eyes and snatched the box from him. Dick got dressed as she opened the clasp; he tried not to smirk when her face lit up. “Did I do good?”

“Oh Grayson, you did good ,” Barbara said, snapping the sapphire bracelet closed on her wrist. “I’m not a jewelry girl, but this… this I can do.”

“Good,” Dick grinned, pecking her lips before he put his shirt on. “I have to get going, but how do you feel about dinner tonight? We can hit the town, somewhere nice.”

Barbara nodded, picking up her phone. She smiled as she engaged with the plethora of Valentine’s day messages, her heart melting when she saw a picture of Karen and Mal’s infant daughter dressed up in a onesie covered with hearts. “Eight PM?”

“It’s a date.” Dick waved before he darted out of the room. “Say hi to Karen for me!” he called back.

Karen and Mal had been awake since four that morning, but nobody would have been able to guess. Little Lydia had woken them up for her breakfast, and since then they’d been constantly on the move. Karen did her research while her daughter ate, and Mal started on the laundry. Laundry tumbled into the dishes, which tumbled into vacuuming the living room and cleaning up the cat’s litter box, so it was easy to see why they were still awake.

After Lydia’s second feeding, Karen had the brilliant idea to do a little bit of a photoshoot with their new daughter. Mal had been all for it and immediately got out his camera, and that’s when the real fun began.

“Oh, she is so going to hate us for this when she’s older,” Karen said as she looked through the photos they’d taken. “I can’t believe you talked me into dressing her up like Cupid.”

“She looks adorable, though.” Mal looked to Lydia, who sucked contently on her pacifier in Karen’s arms. “We’re her parents, we’re allowed to embarrass her like this.”

“I’ll agree to that,” Karen agreed, standing up. “I’m getting hungry, you want something?”

“I could eat. Let me take the baby, I’ll make pancakes.”

Karen raised a brow but then smiled in relief. “I would appreciate it. Dr. Fischer really needs this report by six tomorrow and I’ve fallen behind.” Mal took Lydia in his arms and gave her soft head a kiss before placed her in the baby carrier on his chest. Will had given it to him as a present, and admittedly Mal thought he would never use it. Now he wore the thing pretty much all day.

“Let’s make your Mama some breakfast so she can work. Sound good?” Mal cooed to their daughter as he walked into the kitchen. Pancakes sounded like the perfect easy breakfast to make for the both of them. It was Valentine’s day, he could make them heart-shaped. Between baby and work, he hadn’t had much time to prepare anything special for Karen, so letting her work and making her breakfast was the least he could do.

Lydia fell asleep somewhere between mixing the batter and pouring hearts out on the griddle. Mal was glad for that, because these rare moments of peace and quiet were ones to be savored. Their daughter had a pair of lungs on her, and more often than not, their house was a place of natural chaos. “Pancakes will be ready in a minute. You want blueberries or chocolate chips?”

“Be crazy, do both,” Karen called back.

Mal laughed before doing as she asked. Their ideas of crazy had certainly changed since becoming parents, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. When Karen could smell the pancakes, she left her work and started to set the table for breakfast.

“I have a question,” Mal announced.

“Shoot.”

“Should we be getting married?”

Karen snorted, pouring herself and Mal some coffee. “Do you want to get married?”

“I’m not in a rush,” Mal admitted, flipping the last pancake on a plate before turning off the stove. “I just thought it might be weird, both of us parents and not married.”

“It’s 2019, Mal. We don’t need to be married to have a baby. Besides, our lives are so busy right now, why get married?”

“You’re right,” Mal admitted. “You always are.”

Karen pecked his cheek as he joined her at the table. “And don’t you forget it. Leave the wedding stuff to Conner and M’gann.”

“Sounds good to me. Oh, and Karen?”

“Hm?”

Mal pulled her in for a deeper kiss. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“You know, when you said you had a fun idea for Valentine’s day, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Conner admitted over their mind link. In front of him were a plethora of different wedding pamphlets and brochures, detailing everything from tablecloths to DJs. Figures that on the one day they both had free, they had to spend it planning the wedding. M’gann shot him a sympathetic look, taking his hand.

“I know, but if you want to get married this summer, then we have to do the boring stuff.” She pecked him quickly on the cheek. “We have to pick a venue, that’s most important. .”

“Watchtower.”

“Conner.”

“What’s wrong with here?”

“We live here.”

Conner chuckled before shrugging. “So? It’s beautiful here. Picture it, we could get married among the apple trees.” M’gann did picture it, and it was beautiful. It wasn’t what she’d originally imagined, but it would definitely save them money on a venue. And they didn’t have to worry about secrecy or a cap on wedding guests.

“I like it.” M’gann crossed off an item from her very long to-do list. “We’ll have the wedding here, great idea, Conner.”

“I have those from time to time,” he tried to joke, picking up another pamphlet. “Do tablecloth colors really matter?”

“In theory they don’t,” M’gann said, feeling a little mind-boggled herself. They’d been at this for the better part of the morning, and it was edging closer and closer to lunch. “Hey, I think I’m starting to have a good idea too.”

“What’s that?”

“Let’s stop and go out for lunch. We can go to that Chinese place you like,” M’gann suggested. “It’s Valentine’s day, let’s go out and have some fun.”

Conner smiled but gestured to the table. “What about all this?”

“It’ll still be here when we come back,” M’gann said, standing up and tugging on his hand. “It’ll be the perfect excuse to skip out on training the Outsiders,” she added with a bit of a wicked glint in her eyes. “Dick can’t say anything if we have to make decisions today.”

“You’re amazing. Let me get my jacket and we can go.”

“I’ll be by the door,” M’gann said, sliding into her boots before grabbing her phone. If she remembered correctly, the team had gone out last night. Argentina, or something. Bart and Jaime had managed to convince everyone to go salsa dancing for a ‘pre-Valentine’s day bash’. M’gann loved her team, and she was willing to turn a blind eye at some of the pictures they’d accidentally sent to the group chat she was a part of. Back in the good old days, her team had gotten up to some trouble, and she wasn’t about to start acting pious now.

In the interest of worrying for your well-beings, I’m going to suggest plenty of Advil and orange juice today. Oh, and fried foods. That helps too. Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day <3

“Oh God,” Virgil groaned, rubbing his temple as he tossed his phone to the side. “Which one of you idiots sent the pictures to the wrong group chat?”

“That might of been me,” Traci admitted, chugging back some Cola. “I had way too much to drink last night.”

“Whose idea was it to go salsa dancing in a country where we’re legal to drink?” Cassie asked, laying on the couch. “Because whoever's idea it was, I have a bone to pick with them.”

Bart raised his hand from the floor. “That would be me. And Jaime.”

“Right. Well, fuck you guys.”

“Second that,” Virgil muttered.

Jaime rolled his eyes, shooting a look to his boyfriend. A very annoyed look that read ‘can you believe this?’. “No one made you guys drink. That is all on you all.”

“Fair point,” Traci muttered. “But being that it was your idea, I suggest y’all be the ones to get us food and Advil.”

Bart rolled his eyes but pushed himself up the floor, extending a hand to Jaime. “Fine. I think there’s some make-at-home Chicken Whizzees in the freezer,” he said.

“Gross,” Cassie sneered. “Nothing vegetarian?”

“Nope.”

“Great,” she sighed before standing up herself. “I’ll head home then.”

“Suit yourself,” Jaime called before following Bart into his kitchen. No sooner were the Chicken Whizzees in the oven was Bart pressed against the wall. He grinned, throwing his head back.

“So, fun Valentine’s day?”

“The best,” Jaime said, nibbling at his neck. “I think everyone else is just bitter because they’re single.”

“Would you consider Cassie single?”

Jaime shrugged. “Tim didn’t send her anything today, so I think the message is kinda clear,” he admitted.

“Ouch. Well, I’m not bitter.”

“Neither am I.” Jaime bent forward, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s mouth. Bart responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around his neck. After a few minutes of slow, supple kissing, Bart pulled away, cheeks flushed. They’d only started dating recently, and this was still new to him. They hadn’t even come out as a couple to the team yet. Though, given how close they were dancing last night, it was safe to assume that they probably knew.

“I had fun last night,” Bart admitted. “Even though I don’t remember half of it.”

“It’s okay, I remember enough. You’re cute when you’re drunk, Cariño,” Jaime purred, nuzzling against Bart’s nose. “It’s a Valentine’s day I’ll never forget.”

Bart kissed him again before a cough came from the doorway. They immediately broke apart, turning red as Traci watched with utter amusement. “Y’all are such dorks,” she muttered. “Food ready yet? It’s past lunchtime and I’m starving.”

Jaime and Bart had gotten one thing right, though; Cassie was indeed bitter. Who could blame her, though? Tim and her were still on the rocks, and to make matters worse, he hadn’t even wished her a happy Valentine’s day.

By the time she got home, it was late in the afternoon and she was in no mood for conversation. She was hungry, exhausted, hungover and just wanting a nap. More than anything, she was hurt. Cassie loved her boyfriend, and before he’d left the team they’d been incredibly close. They had gone out on a handful of dates since then, but every time they ended in some kind of argument.

She finally reached her room and flopped on her bed, covering her face. Maybe it was time to finally call it quits. What was the point in even dragging it on any longer? Cassie pulled her hands away from her face and checked her phone, but nothing was there. Frowning, she let out a loud huff and flopped over to her stomach. She’d sleep on it and then decide what to do when she was a bit less grumpy.

Something caught her gaze in her peripheral vision. Cassie turned her head, only for her jaw to drop open. A card sat on her nightstand. On top of a very large box of chocolates and leaning on a hot pink teddy bear. She immediately sat up, regretting it when her head throbbed angrily in protest. Massaging her temple, she opened the card and felt all her annoyance just melt away. A picture of her and Tim, grinning at the camera, sat inside the card. Cassie peeled the picture away to observe what he wrote.

I know you’re still mad at me, and you have every right to be. Right now, I can’t explain. I wish I could. And I understand if you never want to talk to me again, or if you want to end this. But I love you, and even though we’re fighting, you still deserve the world for Valentine’s day. I promise everything will make sense soon.

Love, Tim

Tim watched Cassie read the card from the opposite rooftop, keeping in the shadows so she wouldn’t see him. It was better to leave it silent and undetected; if she saw him, it would leave room for another argument. When he saw her smile, he took that as his cue to depart, feeling like he finally did something right. He pulled out his phone, finding Dick’s number and ringing it with a satisfied little grin.

“ So? ”

“I think she liked it.”

Tim could almost feel Dick smirking over the line. “ Told you that it would. She’s definitely going to feel the aster now .”

The younger bat rolled his eyes. “Can you not use your unwords with me? They make no sense.”

“Stay whelmed, Timothy. One day, my skills will rub onto you.”

“ Fat chance. ”

Dick was about to respond, but he looked at the time and grimaced. Six thirty and he was still in uniform; Barbara was going to kill him. “Good luck with that. Right now, I have a team training to finish up,” he said before hanging up the call. He looked to Brion, Forager and Halo who were finishing up one of their drills. “Good work, team!”

Brion was panting hard as he walked up to Dick. “How would you know? You were just on your phone.”

“The power of multitasking is one of my secret abilities, Hot Lava,” Dick said, igniting a snort from Artemis.

“I was watching,” the blonde said, crossing her arms. “You guys did good. And I think it’s about time we called it a night.”

“I’ll second that. I’m running late to my dinner with Barbara.”

“Then you should have ended training thirty minutes ago,” Artemis pointed out. “Go, I’ll wrap up here,” she said, waving him off. Dick gave her a salute and didn’t so much as utter a goodbye before leaving his team behind. Artemis rolled her eyes, watching him go before turning her attention back at the team. “You guys are dismissed. Good work today.”

“But... it is early,” Violet said, landing on the ground and stopping to glow. Usually their practices didn’t end until eight, or nine if Dick was in a particular mood.“What will we do?”

“Lucas Carr has promised Forager a thrilling nature documentary,” the bug said, clicking happily. “Violet Harper and Brion Markov are more than welcome to join.”

“Actually,” Brion said, cutting in. “I was hoping that you might wish to do something together,” he directed to Violet. “Just us.”

“That could be fun. Did you have something in mind?”

“I could pick you up from your house. We could… go to dinner. Like, a date. For Valentine’s day,” he explained.

Violet hummed, looking to Artemis for confirmation. When she nodded, the younger girl grinned. “I do not know what a date or a Valentine’s day is, but I accept.”

“Excellent. I will make sure it is a date you will never forget,” Brion said, clearing his throat when he realized how eager he sounded.

Violet giggled. “I will go home and change. Will you meet me in half an hour?”

“Yes, it is a date.”

True to his word, Brion picked up Violet at seven on the dot. Violet met him outside, where she was presented with a bouquet of expensive flowers. Will and Artemis watched from the window, both wary but unable to do anything to stop it; the two teens were dating after all.

“It’s weird though, right? I feel like she’s my kid,” Will muttered, crossing his arms.

“Super weird. But it’s out of our hands,” Artemis sighed, turning away when Brion leaned down to kiss Violet. The blonde threw herself on the couch, looking up at Will. “So, got any plans tonight?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Will said, heading to the kitchen so he could put the last of the dishes away.

Artemis perked at his answer; she definitely would have thought that her brother-in-law would be joining her for a lazy night of Netflix and pizza. “Does Will Harper have a hot date tonight?”

“Something like that.”

“Um, spill,” Artemis demanded. “Is it a cute mom from Lian’s daycare? Someone from the league? Jade calling for a quick hookup?”

Will sighed. “No, no, and unfortunately, no. What makes you think I’d say yes to Jade, anyway?” he asked, turning to glance at his roommate. Artemis shot him a deadpan look, and he faltered. They both knew him better than that. “Right. But no, you’re wrong on all those counts.”

“Then who is it?”

The former archer put the last bowl in the cupboard before grabbing his keys. “Someone special. That’s all I’ll say.”

Artemis sighed in annoyance; sometimes he could be such a pain. “Fine. Do you need me to pick up Lian from Lynn’s and watch her?”

“No, she’s covered.” Will slid into his jacket and gave her a wink. “See you later, Sis.”

“Do not call me that!”

Will paid her no mind as he got into his car and drove to the nearest Zeta. It was a short trip to Metropolis, and before much time had passed he was on Lynn Jefferson’s doorstep, hands in his pockets as he waited for the woman to answer.

“Will!” she greeted when she opened the door. “You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour, at least.”

“Didn’t want to keep her waiting long,” he admitted. “Is she ready to go?”

“Just about. Lian, your Daddy is here!” Lynn called back. “Do you want to come inside?”

Will shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but we should get going. I have some plans tonight.”

“Oh?” Lynn asked, waggling her eyebrows. “Hot date?”

Will grinned. “Something to that extent.” No sooner had he said the words did an auburn blur come flying at him. He didn’t have but a second to react, but he knew his daughter well enough to instantly scoop her up. “And hello, little squeaker!” he greeted, kissing her cheeks. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah!” Lian chirped, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Will bid goodbye to Lynn before carrying Lian off. She continued to prattle on about her day, and he listened as if his life depended on it. She gushed about the party, the cupcakes, and all about the new computer games Anissa and Jennifer had shown her. By the end of her story, she was nearly out of breath.

“Hey Princess, I had an idea,” Will said when he was sure she was finished.

“An idea?” Lian asked, still holding tight to his neck.

“I thought we could go see a movie. Just you and me,” he suggested. “Popcorn, nachos, ice cream. Anything you want.”

Lian’s face instantly lit up at her father’s suggestion. “Any movie?”

“Any movie.”

“Yay!” she cheered, bouncing up and down. Will watched her, unable to help but laugh at her determined expression. He’d never really given much thought to Valentine’s day before. Jade certainly hadn’t made a big deal about it. Not that they were ever a normal couple, but they definitely hadn’t done much when Valentine’s day was concerned. All that had changed three years prior. On February 14th, he’d finally met his little girl, and his life had been changed forever. For that, he’d celebrate Valentine’s day as long as he lived.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Baby girl?” Will asked, looking down at her.

Lian grinned mischievously before peppering his face with kisses. “I love you lots and lots!”

Will’s face hurt from how hard he was smiling, and he had to stop walking lest Lian distract him enough to walk into a pole. He tickled her to stop, and in the end they both wound up laughing so hard their sides hurt. When they finally calmed, Will pressed a soft kiss to her hair, knowing that she’d be asleep before the movie was out but wanting to do it anyway. “Daddy loves you too. More than anything. Happy Valentine’s day, Lian.”

#young justice #bluepulse #supermartian #wonderbird #dickbabs #artemis crock #will harper #lian harper #karen beecher #mal duncan

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troubledinkbeing · 6 years

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Batim: Hunter’s Tale

Chapter one “New employee, new job, new friends!!”

Joey Drew Studios, January thirty first, 1932. Hunter walked into Joey Drew Studios, famous for their Bendy the dancing demon cartoons, and, her first job since her last one. “Hello?” Hunter called. Hunter had been taking in the studio’s interior and wasn’t looking where she was going when she bumped into someone. “Oops! Sorry!” Hunter apologized. “WATCH IT!” He snapped. “Sorry!” Hunter apologized. “Ya better be!!” He snapped. “TOM! BACK OFF, WOULDJA?!” Someone with a brooklyn accent shouted. So this must be Tom. “Wally. Late, as usual.” Tom growled. “I ain’t ever late! I arrive precisely when I desire!” Wally said. “So yer late.” Tom said. “That’s fair. Anyway, leave the newbie alone. She just got here and she’s new so she doesn’t know the layout yet.” Wally said. “Fine.” Tom said stalking off. “You okay, kid?” Wally asked. “You’re fine…..” Hunter said absentmindedly. “What?!” Wally gasped. “I-I-I-I-I mean I’m fine!” Hunter chuckled, hiding the lower half of her face to hide that she was blushing. “Well, okay then!” Wally said. Wally walked away, whistling a tune that Hunter had recognized.

The music department. One of the larger departments of Joey Drew Studios, but still somewhat small. Hunter was admiring the large space when she bumped into someone who was taller than her. (About 7 foot 7.) “Watch it, pal.” He grumbled. “Oh, sorry!” Hunter apologized. “Whatever.” He said, picking up the sheets of music he dropped. “Here, lemme help.” Hunter said, picking one up. “ ‘Untitled monument’ Wait-that’s the song composed by Samuel Lawrence!” Hunter gasped. “Of COURSE I AM, YOU FLAT B CHORD!” Sammy scowled. “Go easy on her, Sammers, she’s new.” A gruff voice said. “Fine.” Sammy grumbled. “Thanks…?” Hunter started. “Jack. Jack Fain!” Jack smiled. “Nice to meet you two!” Hunter smiled. “My sheet music please.” Sammy asked. “Oh! Right!” Hunter said handing them back. “Thanks.” Sammy said taking them back. “I was told to find Norman Polk?” Hunter asked. “Norman. Right. Follow me.” Sammy said walking to the projector room. “Okay!” Hunter said, following Sammy.

“No, no! Peter, yer flat! Ya gotta B sharp!” Norman said. “Wow. Like they haven’t heard that joke a bajillion times.” Sammy groaned. “Sammy. What’re ya doin’ back here?” Norman asked. “I have someone who was instructed to find you.” Sammy said. “Oh? Who?” Norman asked. “The newbie.” Sammy said. “Oh! The newbie! I thought they arrived tomorrow!” Norman said. “Sadly, no.” Sammy sighed. “Oh come on, Sammy! Ya gotta lighten up!” Norman smiled. “You’re very funny. Ha. Ha.” Sammy groaned. “Anyways, why’d they need to see me?” Norman asked. “Joey sent me to find something to do, Mr Polk, sir.” Hunter said respectfully. “Please! All my friends call me Norman! And what might your name be?” Norman asked. “Hunter. Hunter Cruz!” Hunter smiled. “Nice to meet ya, Hunter!” Norman smiled. Sammy walked out. “So, we’ve got a small issue here, we’re givin’ the toons some voices, and we have one for Alice and one for Boris, but we don’t have one for Bendy.” Norman said. “Want me to try?” Hunter asked. “Ya can try!” Norman shrugged. “Okie doki loki!” Hunter hopped down into the recording booth and started practicing a voice for Bendy. Joey walked into the recording studio and was caught off guard by how good Hunter was at the voice. “She could fit the role!” Joey gasped. “I think so, too! She’s a professional!” Norman mused. A few hours later, Hunter finished and walked out on Joey and Norman talking. “Oh! Sorry! Am I interrupting anything?” Hunter asked shyly. “Of course not!” Joey beamed. “So…..How’d I do?” Hunter asked. Norman and Joey looked at each other and nodded. “We’ll have to take it up with the head of the voice acting department, but ya did really well!” Joey praised. “Can’t imagine the little devil himself bein’ played by anyone else!” Norman smiled. “And if ya don’t get it, that’s fine! You can be the ‘mold’ of the studio!” Joey proclaimed. “Neat! What’s that?” Hunter asked. “Basically, we can’t think of a job for ya, so you’ll do whatever we need!” Joey smiled. “Oooooh! I get it now!” Hunter gasped. “Yep! Super easy!” Joey said. “Unless Wally dumps his responsibilities on ya.” Norman chuckled. “Wait-what?” Hunter asked. “What?” Norman asked. “What?” Hunter asked. “What?” Norman asked. “What?” Hunter asked. “Wha-I see what you’re doin’!” Norman said. “Be mindful of corners, though! Wally’s QUITE the prankster!” Norman warned. “Oh. Okay!” Hunter said. After excusing herself, Hunter left.

As Hunter was rounding a corner, she got lost in her thoughts. “Okay guys! Here she comes!” Wally grinned. “Don’t you think this is mean, Wally?” Henry asked. “Henry, listen; sometimes, ya gotta put standers aside and just have fun! Oh- here she comes!” Wally said grabbing the cardboard cutout. Hunter got close to the end of the corridor before a Bendy cutout leaned out from behind the wall. “AAAHHHH!!!!!!!” Hunter screamed. (Elsewhere) “*Sigh* There goes Wally again.” Norman sighed, shaking his head. (With Hunter) “WALLY WHAT THE EVERLIVING SAM HELL WAS THAT FOR?!?” Hunter snapped. “I’m sorry-I couldn’t resist!!” Wally cackled. “Sorry about that-it’s Hunter, right?” Henry asked. “Y-Yeah, and you are?” Hunter asked. “Henry. Henry Stein.” Henry said, shaking Hunter’s hand. “(HIS HANDS ARE SO SOFT OH MY WORD.)” Hunter thought. “Hello?” Henry asked. “Oh! Sorry! Got lost in my thoughts!” Hunter chuckled nervously. “Yeah, Joey does that a lot!” Henry smiled. After saying goodbyes, Hunter went off to work on something Joey instructed her to do; come up with new character designs. Should be easy, right?

After Hunter finished, she brought the designs down to the animation department. “So we’ve got a Bunny and a……?” Mike asked. “A dragon, sir.” Hunter said. “Huh……they ARE adorable….Lemme talk about it with Joey, okay?” Mike asked. “Okay!” Hunter said. Hunter walked out and sat down in the break room, spacing out. “Sorry ‘bout earlier, I was bored and wanted to spook ya! Hope yain’t mad!” Wally apologized. “Oh! It’s fine!” Hunter assured. “So, I heard ya auditioned for Bendy?” Wally asked. “Yeah, I think I did good! Why?” Hunter asked. “Well, I got Boris, so I was thinkin’ maybe we could be friends?” Wally asked nervously. “Sure thing!” Hunter said. “Wait-really?” Wally asked. “Yeah, did I stutter?” Hunter joked. “I don’t think so…” Wally hummed. “It-It was a joke.” Hunter said. “Oooooooh!” Wally said. “Sammy likes jokes!” Wally said. “Really?!” Hunter gasped. “Totally!” Wally said. “Let’s go! I have a BUNCH to tell!” Hunter said. Hunter bounced off. Norman leaned in, scowling. “It’s only her first day here, Wally. Her first day. Her first day, and ya kill her.” Norman scowled. “She’ll be fine, Norm!” Wally scoffed.

“Office of Samuel Lawrence.” A sign above the room boasted. Hunter shifted her hold on the report she was supposed to give to him, and shakily got ready to knock. She noticed her hand was shaking and that her vision was going blurry. She blinked and shook her head. She had to knock. This report wasn’t gonna deliver itself. She lifted her hand again, ready to knock, but…..She didn’t. This was NOT that hard!!! He’s just seven foot seven! A full two feet and five inches taller than her!! And she was significantly weaker than him……..And he could probably break her like a twig if he so desired……..This doesn’t seem like such a good idea after all. She turned around to walk away, but as soon as she stepped one foot away, she heard the door click open. “It doesn’t take that many muscles to knock, you know.” Sammy said sarcastically. “R-Right!” Hunter stuttered. Sammy gestured for Hunter to follow him inside and she shakily followed. Once inside, Hunter shakily handed Sammy the report. “There’s no need to be so afraid of me, you know.” Sammy said, reading over the report. “I know, I just have a fear of tall people is all.” Hunter chuckled nervously. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sammy asked, glaring up from the report. “We-Well, I-I m-mean tall people a-are v-very i-intimidating-!” Hunter started before Sammy held up a finger to silence her. “Not ALL tall people are violent, you know. That’s just stereotyping. I use my height for CONstructive work. Not DEstructive.” Sammy snapped. “I know, I’m sorry-!” Hunter was cut off again. “I would NEVER use my height for anything bad, but if you think I would, I’ll show you what I CAN do with my height!!!” Sammy snapped. Hunter backed up nervously. “I-I’m sorry, I-I shoulda b-been m-more c-careful w-with m-my wording…!” Hunter whimpered. “Are you now? Golly, I should accept your apology! NOT.” Sammy frowned. “You’re afraid of me for no reason?” Sammy chuckled. “I’ll give you a gosh dang reason to be afraid of me.” Sammy said. Before Hunter could say anything, she felt a fist come into contact with her face, sending her launching into the back wall. “S-Sammy, I-“ Hunter started. “You what?” Sammy growled. “I-I’m sorry!!” Hunter whimpered. “Well, that’s a start.” Sammy sighed. “But, just to be sure that this won’t happen again-“ Sammy said picking Hunter up by the neck. Hunter struggled weakly. “Let’s show ya what my fists can REALLY do~!” Sammy smirked. Before Hunter could object, she felt some punches get thrown at her face, and her arm hurt abnormally. “Ouchie!!” Hunter whimpered, cradling her arm. Sammy dropped Hunter and walked off. A few seconds later, Hunter felt Sammy grab her arm. “Ow-!” Hunter started. “If you whimper in pain I will stuff this down your throat.” Sammy snapped. Hunter remained silent. Sammy made a makeshift cast for Hunter’s arm since it had accidentally broken. “Just keep it like that until you can schedule an appointment with your doctor.” Sammy said. Hunter nodded weakly. “I didn’t rough you up too much, did I?” Sammy asked. Hunter shook her head no. “Alright.” Sammy said. “S-Sorry again, Mr Lawrence, sir.” Hunter apologized. “Oh, it’s quite alright! I’ve done that with everyone at one point or another!” Sammy chuckled. “Except for Susie?” Hunter asked half-heartedly. A bright crimson blush dusted Sammy’s face. “W-Wait a second!!!” Sammy snapped. “Yeah?” Hunter asked carefully. “W-Well, she’s a girl-!” Sammy started. “As am I.” Hunter said flatly. “WHAT?!? But ya sound like a guy and look like one, too!!!” Sammy gasped. “O-Oh…..Th-Thanks for that…..” Hunter said sadly. “I did NOT mean to call you flat-chested!! Not at all!!” Sammy stuttered. “N-No no, i-it’s fine.” Hunter said, slowly getting up. “I-I’m sorry-!” Sammy started. “It’s FINE, Sammy!” Hunter accidentally snapped. “I’m sorry.” Sammy apologized. Hunter limped out. Shawn and Allison were chatting in the break room when Hunter limped in. “Hecking Ifreann. What happened to YOU?!” Shawn asked. “Sammy.” Hunter grumbled. Allison rushed over to Hunter and gave her an ice pack for her eye. “Thanks…” Hunter said icing her eye. “What didja do to get Sammy so mad at you, anyway?” Allison asked. “Just called him out for being tall.” Hunter said. “AN BHOIR MHÓIRÍ.” Shawn grumbled. “SHAWN!!! Language!” Allison said. “Jerk?” Shawn asked. “Better.” Allison said. “What did he say before?” Hunter asked. “Well-“ Shawn started. “Nothing you need to know, dearie.” Allison said. “GACH SPOILSPORT!” Shawn grumbled. “What’s he saying?” Hunter asked. “He’s just calling me a spoilsport.” Allison said. After getting fixed up, Hunter went back upstairs and finished up getting her office set up. After Hunter finished her shift, she started heading to the door. “Hey, Hunter? Can I talk to ya for a sec?” Susie asked. “Oh, uh, sure!” Hunter said. Hunter walked over. “What’d ya nee-“ Hunter started. “I saw you getting close to Sammy. Lemme say this, if you try to take him away from me, you’ll regret it.” Susie snapped. “I’d never do that to ya! It was JUST an accidental run-in! Nothing more!” Hunter explained. “Sure. Just watch your back.” Susie said. Hunter sped home, noticing the time.

#susie campbell #Sammy Lawrence #Jack Fain #Norman Polk #Shawn Flynn #Hunter Cruz #Joey Drew #Henry Stein #allison pendle #Thomas Connor #Peter Ano #Batim OC #My OCs #My Writing #Pregame Obviously #Batim Fanfic

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ilovehatembj · 6 years

Text

Man Up Part 2

@eriksbabymama @sweettea-and-honeybutter @Ljstraightnochaser @amethyst1993 @laketaj24 @daytimeheroicsonly @uhlxis @drsunshine97 @supernovaah @muse-of-mbaku @zuzuspanda @chefjessypooh @purple-apricots @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @cockyboysandsugarism @destinio1 @siriuslycollins @dreadedphilosphy @texasbama @blackmisfitsunite @cool-pen-name @madamslayy @slimmiyagi @blackchickfics @omg-blackqueen @blue-ishx @maliadestiny @yourstrulyylauren

I didn’t think that many people would read my stuff let alone like it! Thanks for sharing and the positive comments, I hope you guys like this one and all the other parts that are gonna come!

Pairing: Reader x MBJ, Reader x OBJ

Warnings: Very light smut and cursing

“What the fuck did you just say to me Michael?!”

“I said was your business escorting that nigga. I was kindly asking if your business was prostitution if you didn’t catch my drift.” As soon as that nigga finished that sentence a headline popped into your head “Well Known Actor Michael B. Jordan Dead at Age 31”. But then you remembered that Odell still hadn’t been in your throat and that you prefer your wine from anywhere but a toilet, so you just pushed the thought to the back of your mind.

“Yeah I caught your drift alright. Who the fuck are you to ask me about my business any fucking way nigga?”

“Y/N, I am your man. That’s who I am to ask about your business.” he yelled with agitation in his voice, “You know what I’m not arguing with you over the phone. I’ll pick you up from the airport when you land, bye”. He hung up before you could even refuse. You decided not to even dwell on the conversation. Michael wasn’t on your mind and he didn’t deserve to be. Your mind was on someone much more deserving of all the dirty thoughts that lingered from moments prior. Or maybe it was months? It didn’t matter though cause after you got settled into bed for the night you were tired…..but your mind and body were still craving Odell’s touch, but you had to settle for your own.

As usual you were a sight to see and knowing that only turned you on more. Hair up in a bun and nude underneath of your white silky robe, you started at the valley of your breasts, then your hands moved to massage and play with both of your breasts. With closed eyes you envisioned it was Odell pinching and licking your nipples. Your hands started making their way down to your melted pussy. You slowly rubbed on your clit, then—your phone started going bezerk. You had gotten 15 messages in 1 minute and your phone was still going off because of an incoming Facetime call, all from the same person—it was Michael’s older sister Jamila a.k.a thorn in your fucking side for the past 3 years.

“Hi, Jamila”

“Bitch, don’t try to be cordial with me! You out here fucking around on my brother? With a injured ass sorry ass NFL player! I been told that boy you were nothing but an Instagram thot!”

“First of all you C-list Hollywood extra, I got your Instagram thot. You haven’t been relevant since you were an extra in I am Legend, leech ass hoe. Since you worried about things other than your sad ass marriage worry about your cheating ass brother and the actual Instagram thots he’s fucking, and the subpar ass strippers you and your husband been bringing into y’all bedroom. If you gon pay for pussy make sure the face that go to it pretty, bitch.” You hung up, you clearly had some shit to get off your chest after dealing with 3 years of her ass trying you and added the extra tea courtesy of Chyna.

You decided you were too exhausted to try to satisfy yourself tonight. The Jordans have officially pissed you off and a bitch had a flight to catch tomorrow.

You woke up late at 9 A.M. like you didn’t have a 12 P.M. flight to catch. You checked your phone and saw something unusual, a snapchat from that nigga. You opened it and your heart dropped to your stomach. You had every intention on ending everything with this nigga today, and you still were without a question, but you never thought he would take his disrespecting of you to this level. It was a video of him tongue deep with a very familiar Instagram hoe, Ashlyn. This bitch was always around everywhere. And the last time you had seen her in person it was NYE in LA and she was kissing that nigga when the clock struck midnight. When you confronted him about it then he said it was nothing, but your gut told you otherwise. You realized that you couldn’t handle this nigga how you your emotions were telling you to. You had to hit this nigga where he’d feel you most and it wasn’t gonna be through just destroying his cars.

You just wanted your time in NY to be over with so you just threw on some black leggings and a sweatshirt and headed down to your Uber and then to the airport. On the way there you got a call from Odell.

“Good morning lady”

“Good morning”

“You doing okay?” That was a weird question because last night for the most part went well, unless this nigga sent him the videos of him and that hoe as well.

“I’m fine. That’s an odd question for the morning after a date not gone bad.”

“I was just asking because I know he called you last night and cause of the comments under The Shade Room’s pictures of us—” you stopped him right there.

“What comments?”

“Damn. I figured you already seen them. I’m sorry. Just, just forget I said anything. You leave for the airport yet? If not I can take you, any reason to see your beautiful smile.”

“Okay, well I’m already in my Uber on the way to the airport now, but thank you anyway. Can I call you back when I land? We pulling up to the airport now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine but don’t forget.”

“I won’t!”

“Aight, have a good flight”

Ignoring Odell you decided to creep to see what on TSR’s ig sent that nigga into a life-threatening frenzy and check to see what comments Odell was talking about. After finally scrolling through their feed for a good while you see the three pictures that made that nigga see that he was the very definition of replaceable. The first one was simple, just a shot of the two looking at each other at your dinner table, the second one was just as simple. The third one though, THAT one is the one. The third picture could’ve been on the front y’all wedding invites (We speak positivity into existence over this way honey). Y’all were walking out of the restaurant and smiling looking into each other’s eyes, Odell’s hand was guiding you by your lower back out of Morimoto, and you looked at pure peace. The caption was generic as hell, “Y/N, what’s the tea sis?”, but a comment thread caught your attention. It was this bitch Saweetie. You read her comment that said, “Damn. Why ain’t Mike call me last night?”. You saw RED. You asked for your driver to pull over to the nearest FedEx Kinkos cause you wanted this nigga to see that it wasn’t just cheating, it was the balls these type of bitches grew. You printed out the screenshots of her comment and asked the driver to speed so you could still catch your flight on time. You left him a fat ass tip for doing you those major favors.

You’re flight was smooth and you landed back in LA around noon your time. That nigga was waiting for you and he looked like his body was repaying his ass for that stunt and whatever other bullshit he did last night, he looked badly hungover. He didn’t speak to you, you didn’t speak to him, you just followed him to the car. Once y’all got in the car you snatched the aux away from that nigga so quickly and played your new favorite song. As soon as this nigga heard “Oochie wally bang bang” that nigga’s face dropped and he nervously started a conversation with you.

“So um, about last night, what were those um pictures?”

“Can this wait till we get to my house? I really like this song”

“Where’d you even hear this song”

“Can we discuss that later too? It’s getting to my favorite part”, he looked away and you sung along, “I’m in music, you in acting,so we keep that low profile, private and low key you know that is my type of style”. This nigga kept switching his focus between you and the road and just stared in pure confusion. When y’all finally pulled in the garage of your condo he beat you to the trunk of his car and grabbed all your luggage and even held the door to your building for you. What had suddenly gotten into this nigga? Was the Michael Bakari Jordan fearful?

Once y’all walked through your door he walked to bedroom, dropped your bags, came back out and asked, “So, now can we talk about those pictures?”

“Yeah, but first we need to talk about a few other things. First let’s play a guessing game. Let’s guess who this hip-hop pass around was talking about in this song.” You played “23” again staring at him as he stared at the floor. The song finished.

“Easy, Drake.”

“Really? Drizzy?” you asked with a scrunched face holding your hands trying to not catch a DV charge.

“Yeah, matter of fact I saw her at one of his house parties in November.” Nigga really thought he was clever.

“Damn, well this bitch clearly didn’t know how to spell Drake under TSR’s comments today”. You pulled the screenshots of her comment out and put it in his face. “SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU NIGGA!” You screamed. “I KNOW FOR DAMN SURE SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU BECAUSE WHEN YOU HAD JUST GOTTEN YOUR i8 I HADN’T EVEN WORE MY BLONDE WIG IN IT AND I FOUND A MOTHERFUCKIN’ BLONDE HAIR! AND THE LINE ABOUT Y’ALL FUCKIN’ IN A CAR PROVED IT EVEN MORE CAUSE YOU BEEN SLANGIN’ YOUR MEDIOCRE ASS DICK AROUND HOLLYWOOD AND PHILLY. MEDIOCRE DICK THAT FURTHER DECLINED IN QUALITY WHEN YOU CAME HOME TO ME. YOU CAN KEEP YOUR LIMP NOT UP TO MUCH DICK AND THE BASIC BITCHES THAT COME WITH IT. DON’T SAY SHIT TO ME. DON’T ASK ME ABOUT NO FUCKIN’ PICTURES, DON’T ASKED IF I FUCKED HIM BECAUSE NO I DIDN’T BECAUSE YOU DECIDED TO RUIN MY FUCKIN’ NIGHT BY CALLING ME. YOU FUCKIN’ COCKBLOCK.”

“Y/N, you know-”

“NIGGA GET OUT AND TELL YOUR FUGLY ASS SISTER NOT TO CALL ME BACK ON BS UNLESS SHE REALLY WITH THE SHITS”

“Baby them bitches meant NOTHING! I promise!”

“Odell—” Ooop. Bitch its EVIDENT who you were thinking about. A part of you said Odell’s name on purpose because you wanted that nigga to know how done you were with him. Once you said that, that nigga was fuming.

“BITCH WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?”

“BITCH I CALLED YOU THE NIGGAS NAME THAT I’M THINKING ABOUT. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE MAD ABOUT SHIT! ESPECIALLY AFTER THAT SNAPCHAT STUNT YOU PULLED WITH THAT HOE ASHLYN.”

“OKAY YEAH, Y/N I FUCKED HER LAST NIGHT BUT SHE SENT YOU THAT VIDEO WHEN SHE GOT AHOLD OF MY PHONE. BUT I’LL LEAVE! I DON’T CARE DAWG! YOU NEED ME! I DON’T NEED YO ASS! MAYBE IF YOU WASN’T SO BORING I WOULDN’T BE FUCKING THESE OTHER BITCHES” Did this nigga just magically forget all the connections that you’ve made FOR HIM?! Fuck the part about being “boring” you knew you were FAR from that. This nigga was set to be in a Ciroc commercial because you knew Diddy well because he went way back with your dad. This same nigga was able to be on Snoop Dogg’s VH1 show because Snoop considered you to be an actual niece. You were the only reason this nigga was able to say he knew so many Black celebrities. But all that was about to change as soon as that nigga left. You calmed down, walked him to the door and said, “If you say so”. “I’m done witcho ass. I paid for some pornstar titties and it’s time to go play with em.” You closed the door calmly. With everything that came out of that nigga’s mouth you finally realized what was wrong with him, he didn’t appreciate or value your presence, he was only still with you because he didn’t wanna know what your absence felt like.

You had calls to make. First it was Uncle Snoop and Diddy. All you had to say was he called you outta your name. He lost one endorsement. Then you called Dr. Dre, he still had some ownership of Beats, so he had a say in who was the face of it. That nigga lost an endorsement he was supposed to shoot for in a week. Then you called all of LA’s finest, from Nipsey Hussle to YG to the LAPD this nigga was a walking target. Your dad was well respected in LA so naturally the Bloods, Crips, and 5-0 would unite under your thumb. Then you called Pusha-T, this nigga could get all of hip-hop to hate one nigga at the drop of a dime. You have officially cost this nigga at least $15 million and potentially his life. You couldn’t careless, honestly.

You still had one more person to call and your night would exponentially better. Odell.

“Hello?”

“Hey, did your flight get delayed?

“No.”

“When you get home?”

“A few hours ago. I’m calling late be—”

“Its cool, I understand, you don’t have to let me down easy.”

“Odell, exactly what am I letting you down from?”

“Us, or a chance at us rather”

“See, you gotta let me finish my sentences. I was going to say I was late calling because I broke up with him.”

“Word?! Like forreal?”

“Forreal! Mister I think can read people’s brains”

“HAHA. You had me nervous girl. Damn. You gotta be quicker witcho points though. That whole miscommunication was on you.”

“You may have a point”

“Since I have a point how bout an invite to LA”

“Hmmmm. Consider this your invite.”

“I can be there Saturday”

“I’ll pick you up from the airport”

“Should I um, get a room at a hotel?”

“See I think there’s some sort of convention going on and I’m 1000% sure that every hotel in LA is booked. You don’t have to call and check either. Just take my word for it.”

“I think I know what convention you’re talking about.” The two of you laughed at your mutual understanding of what non-existent convention was going on. After you all sorted all the details he let you vent to him. You told him what you were feeling and why you were feeling it. You felt so at ease.

*Fast Forward to Friday Night*

You cleared out your schedule for the weekend and you were excited! You went to bed with butterflies in your stomach because you couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning!

#fanfic #michael b jordan imagine #erik killmonger imagine #odell beckham jr #black panther #nfl #man up

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