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frogchiro · 7 months

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Beauty is in the eye of The Beholder

Author's note: My first kinktober entry!! Yay! We're staring with a new-ish concept so I hope you like it!

Also I apologize for the short story but I was moving into my dorm for uni today and it literally took all day so I apologize in advance :((

Warnings: slight nsfw, reader is female, general creepyness, whatever König is (human or not) isn't explicitly specified but he does some unnerving/possibly uncomfortable stuff like stalking so keep it in mind, mentioned death but nothing explicit.

The almost suffocating warmth coming from behind you is almost too much. Almost. However considering the events of the day you guess that it could be called comfortable to be cuddled and nuzzled by König, your colonel, your superior and...well, mate as he calls it. It can be sometimes tricky to hear him, for a man that size he's unnervingly silent and stealthy and his voice is low and quiet, almost whispery, not to mention that König just doesn't talk much so to hear him rasp that one word, 'mate', in your direction is a feat in itself.

While at first you were terrified of the enormous male due to all the stated reasons something about him was equally unnerving and yet alluring, like an invisible pull towards him.

At first you thought you were going crazy, everywhere you went you saw the tall, lean figure of the colonel doing nothing but just...watching you. His bloodshot eyes stared at you without ever blinking as you laid a USB stick with data you managed to hack with a tremble in your hands, your eyes not daring to meet his. Another such instance was when he almost scared you to death in an empty hallway at night when you just wanted to get a quick midnight snack from the kitchen and just barely held in a scream when you noticed König standing in a dark corner, silent and static like always, his head wasn't even moving under his cowl except for his eyes which followed you as you were scuttling and whispering shaky excuses.

You were KorTac's newest asset, a skilled hacker and yet many soldiers underestimated you; you guess you can't really blame them, you're only in your early twenties and your soft build isn't really military-esque so you suppose you kinda look a little mismatched, but that doesn't excuse what people were whispering behind your back. Not all of them, not even the majority as you were considered friendly and overall harmless, and yet these few whispered sneers cut deep into your self esteem which eventually led you into the moment you were now in.

You were laying under a thick blanket with König plastered against your back, your quiet sniffles the only thing that disturbed the otherwise quiet room. You felt bad that you were taking up König's time, after all as a colonel he surely had better things to do than lay around with his 'mate' and comfort her after some asshole insulted her although a small, selfish part of you was over the moon with happiness that the huge male behind you was cuddling and comforting you so sweetly despite not muttering anything besides the occasional nuzzle and a raspy 'pretty...soft...mine'.

Turning around, you smiled tiredly at the man beside you, his wide blue eyes never blinking as they continued to stare at you with the devotion and love someone may only give their god and yet here you are, loved and cherished by this huge man, a monster many call him, a merciless goliath that kills and destroys everything in his path like a god of war but you know better. König's huge hands ran up and down your soft sides, lightly grazing your belly and finally his large, warm hands slipped under your pajama shirt and up to your breast where he squeezed lightly, pinching at your nipple.

"König...Please I-", your pleading for...whatever were quickly cut short when the long haired male leaned in with a purr deep in his chest and nuzzled his hooked nose against your cheek, scarred lips making tiny movements as if kissing you making you giggle wetly, your former awful mood lifting, instead being replaced by a warm feeling of love and pleasure as the big male above you kept nuzzling and kissing you insistently, his hand working your sensitive breasts and slipping down to your pants to finger at your clit making you moan out.

Unbeknownst to you, König already had a plan in his mind. A plan he started to make the moment his sensitive ears caught your distressed sniffles making a concerned whine come up from his chest and the moment he saw you, he could clearly see right through you. Someone hurt you. S̷̙̭̦̜͚̑͝͝o̷̹̺͓͙̭̍̚ͅͅm̸͕̹͖̩̰͝e̸̤͖̞̯̍̂̋̚͜o̷̝̫͎̬͎̟̲̦̞̍̆̿̀̀͛̐ņ̴̧͉̭̪̣̖͆̉̅̀e̵̜̜̪̯͛͑́͘ ̶͎̣̱͎̹̻͍̥̔́͝h̵̙̰͊̈́̑͛̌̚u̷͉̝̤̾̆͌̂̓̀̏̕r̸̛̞̘͉̦͙͈͎̫̩͒͊͗̓́͝t̶̯̝͎̮͕̩̹̀̍ ̷̧̨͔̮͉͇͊͂̏͌̆̅͠y̸̡̛͕͉̖͈͗̿̅ơ̷̢͖̼͉͚͔͊̍̊̂̈ͅŭ̷̦͔͚̈́̊̚. And now he needed to know who. Ah. It was Gavin huh. That overly confident, cocksure rookie who thought that the military was rainbow and fucking sunshine, shaded glasses, cool uniforms, huge expensive cars and women to fuck left and right.

He suspected that that prick made some unwanted advances towards you and the moment you rejected him it was 180 and he was nitpicking everything you did or even how you looked. König knew he was gonna be a problem from the moment he laid eyes on him and now he though it funny to make his mate cry?

You know what they say: beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Him being the mentioned beholder and König isn't known to be the most benevolent person...If someone doesn't appreciate your beauty of a goddess, why would they need their eyes?

#kin speaks #kin's kinktober #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader

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emo-batboy · 1 year

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Lately, I’ve been thinking about Battinson who actually has naturally curly, dirty blond hair that he got from his parents. Picture this:

Bruce whose hair is a kaleidoscope of golden blond and strawberry blond and dirty blond that can’t be tamed when it’s humid out because it’s too wavy and curly and voluminous all at once

Bruce who looks so bright and cheerful with his soft facial structure and crazy hair that cannot be replicated because it’s so uniquely Bruce

Bruce who is a spitting image of his mother’s gorgeous natural color and his father’s wild mane

Bruce who absolutely destroys his natural hair because it reminds him too much of his parents

Bruce who tries desperately to avoid the gut-wrenching comments from those stupid rich people who thought they can bring up his parents just because they used to be friends

Bruce who feels physically ill whenever he hears “Oh you look just like your parents.” “They should have been here to see you.” “You’re a spitting image.”

Bruce who religiously dyes his hair a boring brown and straightens the shit out of it until it’s damaged beyond belief by the age of 18 but at least he doesn’t hear those stupid remarks anymore

Bruce who forgets to wash it sometimes but doesn’t care because his hair is his least favorite thing about his appearance

Bruce who gels the ever-loving fuck out of it to avoid it getting it in his eyes, but he also hates getting haircuts so it gets way too long and happens anyway

Bruce who gets greasepaint in it all the time, wears hats and hoods whenever appropriate, just can’t stop messing with it but hates bringing attention to the thing so he has to glue his hands to his side in public

Bruce who is a stranger to everyone and himself, especially his hair

Bruce who mourns it like he’s still mourning his parents

Now imagine:

Bruce who is going through the aftermath of the Riddler case and the floods

Bruce who only just realized that vengeance is not the answer

Bruce who wants to become Hope but doesn’t know how yet

Bruce who decides that he can’t hide himself behind a cowl all the time now so he chooses to develop a better public image

Bruce who realizes this requires a public appearance as well

Bruce who is way too busy saving the city to keep up his hair dye routine so he forgets to touch up his roots a couple of times

Bruce who is advised to stop gelling his hair back so much because it makes him look less approachable

Bruce who feels so awkward and vulnerable when his hair isn’t hidden behind a hat or some product or his cowl but he goes through the motions because he wants to try his best to be the hero Gotham needs right now

Bruce who walks into Mayor Real’s office one morning, hair sticking up all over the place after stopping no less than 10 muggings the night before, his natural dirty blond in full effect and strikingly…warm

“Did you dye your hair?” Real asks. Bruce pauses. “Uh, no. I stopped dying it a few weeks ago.” “I didn’t know your hair was blond.” He braces for the comments, but she doesn’t mention his parents. Instead, she just smiles. “It suits you.”

Bruce who genuinely doesn’t know how to handle the simple compliment so he just awkwardly shuffles around it and into their discussion on infrastructure

Bruce who stands outside of her office for five minutes after their meeting because he hasn’t stopped thinking about the mortifying reality that his natural hair is visible again

Bruce who also can’t stop thinking about how she said it. It suits him.

Bruce whose natural hair suits him?

Bruce who finally gets the time to dye it again after two months of nonstop work but when he thinks about what Real said…he decides against it. For now

Bruce who starts getting used to seeing his dirty blond hair in the mirror again, even expects it. visualizes it

Bruce who knows when it’s getting too dirty because the small peaks of gold disappear so he starts washing it more regularly

Bruce who watches the volume come back and doesn’t hate it

Bruce who sees the rat’s nest in the morning of golden brown and random reds and even a streak of chestnut and doesn’t immediately reach for gel and a straightener anymore. Instead, he just runs a hand through it and thinks ‘to hell with it, it’s fine like this’

Bruce who gains favor from the public along with a new look, a fresher one

Bruce who becomes a familiar face on TV as the soft-spoken billionaire with the dirty blond hair that never looks right but it’s personable

Bruce who shakes hands and holds babies and hugs kids and the most compliments he gets are for his hair

Bruce who always has just a few strands of hair sticking up in the most random direction but he just swats it away (in another wild direction) and that’s that

Bruce who stops caring so much about being clean-shaven and now sports a bit of stubble because he just likes it that way

Bruce whose hair gets naturally much lighter in the summertime because he’s outside so much now and so his golden roots bleed into a rich strawberry blond

Bruce who has so many unflattering photos from the press of his hair actually looking like a rat’s nest, like seriously how does it look That Bad (Alfred thinks it’s hilarious)

Bruce who gets haircuts regularly now and always asks if they can use as little product as possible because “I don’t like when it’s sticky” but he always likes when it’s just a bit long too

Bruce who tugs on his hair, not to push it away but to fidget with it during meetings, making it even crazier

Bruce who can be recognized from the back by his crazy swirl of hair

Bruce who’s been sporting this new hair for a year now, the summer has passed and his hair is comfortably golden brown again (emphasis on the golden) and it’s bittersweet because he actually finds that he misses the striking blond streaks in July

But it’s all worth it when he notices his curls are finally coming back in the front

Bruce who looks like a completely different person than before and he’s so so happy

#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #magical hair Bruce Wayne #yes hair does change colors in the summertime #take it from a strawberry blonde who looks almost brunette in the winter #his hair possesses magical qualities #magical girl battinson #dc universe #the batman #batman 2022 #battinson needs a hug #gotham #soft bruce wayne #I said what I said #long post #alfred pennyworth

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mangoisms · 10 months

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circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter two: it’s getting late | read chapter one

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: would be lying if i said this was for tim's birthday tmrw. it was rlly just because the reception to chapter 1 was so lovely and i also did this with my other tim fic—posting chapter 2 early, i mean. but we'll just have to work with this. happy early birthday tim you are annoying and i want to study you under a microscope <3

You expect Red Robin’s appearance to be a one-off thing.

It is not.

Instead, the next day, you get Black Bat.

It jolts you from the phone call you’re having.

“—understand the temptation to tell them to screw off but I really don’t want to get… shot…”

You trail off, watching, wide-eyed as your newest vigilante customer steps into Circle K.

Black Bat cuts an imposing figure, her suit made up mostly of inky black material, with a few accents of gold, the Bat symbol on her chest standing out the most. Her black cape flutters behind her, moving like a shadow. She looks the most like Batman, you think, with the cowl and the pointed ears. Except the eyes of the mask are black and the bottom of her face is completely covered—stitched closed. Considerably more creepy, you think, goosebumps breaking out over your skin. Though that could be the fan you have on, fluttering your hair as it makes a slow rotation.

“Hey, did you die or something?”

“No,” you mutter, watching, your heart starting to pick up as Black Bat comes up to the counter.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not—

“Do you have Red Bull?” Her voice is low and melodic. Not befitting of her… general aura.

Wordlessly, you point to the refrigerators at the back.

“Thanks,” she says, then she turns and walks away. You can only see the top of her head and the pointed ears of her cowl. A second later, you hear the suction-y sound of the refrigerator door being opened.

A voice calls your name from the other end of the line.

Your best friend, Stephanie Brown, who gave you a call to see how your summer break has been treating you.

“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “Just got distracted by something outside.”

“Something outside? That’s not reassuring. At all.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Like I was saying, I’m not gonna tell them that. It’s tempting but like I said, I don’t want to get arrested or some shit.”

“The charges wouldn’t even hold. It’s a free country. I can tell a cop to fuck off if I want to. That’s my god-given right.”

“I appreciate the spirit, but I don’t think the GCPD would agree with you.”

“Well, the GCPD can kiss my ass.”

“You and me both, Stephie. You and me both. So, how’s, uh, Metropolis?”

“Metropolis is Metropolis. Brainiac nearly took control of the city yesterday but what’s new? Mom’s having a good time, though. Even if things are way overpriced over here. I mean, seriously. Eight bucks for a cup of coffee at this place we went to today. They’re crazy.”

Steph babbles in your ear for a few more minutes. Long enough for Black Bat to reemerge from the aisle, two cans of Red Bull and a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms in hand. You wonder who the second person is. Red Robin, maybe?

He’d been odd about the hot chocolates. Odd in general. But that’s what you get with these vigilante types.

No matter. You quickly focus on your current situation, giving Black Bat a small, embarrassed smile and pointing at the phone crammed between your shoulder and ear, mouthing Sorry.

You shouldn’t be doing this on the job and you should’ve told Steph you had to go but quite frankly, you need the assurance of another person with you. Even if said person can’t do anything and is across the harbor in Metropolis on a mini-vacation with her mom.

Black Bat shouldn’t give you trouble about it. You hope. She just scares you a little more than Red Robin. Which is silly because he’s a guy and probably more potentially dangerous but. You know. Her suit is just… too similar to Batman’s, and he’s the one who scares you the most.

Still, Black Bat just shrugs and waves a hand. “It’s fine.”

You nod your thanks, then scan everything and bag it. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill from her utility belt and you give her the change, which she promptly puts in the tip jar. A kind gesture, really, considering the twenty is a bit of an overshoot for her total, leaving you with a nice tip.

You guess that if anything else, at least it’s nice that these vigilantes tip.

After dropping the receipt into the bag, she takes it and waves at you.

Mystified, you wave back.

Then she steps out, cape fluttering behind her.

“Anyway,” Steph says on the other end as you focus on her voice again. “It’s pretty fun but I miss home. Can’t wait to be back in the city. We’re hanging out as soon as I do, by the way. How are things with you?”

Oh, you can’t keep it in. You have to tell her.

“I saw the Flash two days ago.”

But she misunderstands.

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “I saw that in the news. ‘Cause of Trickster, right? Bet Batman wasn’t happy about that.”

“No,” you say. “I’m saying I saw him. Here. At Circle K. He dropped in to grab a bite to eat. I know you and Tim absolutely refuse to believe me when I say he visited me and that we’re friends—which, by the way, he totally reaffirmed when I saw him—but he was here.”

“We’re jealous, that’s all,” she says. “Just don’t want you running off with the Flash thinking he’s cooler than we are. Which, to be clear, he isn’t. Not me, anyway. Tim is up for debate.”

“Well, you’re about to be a little more jealous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because since he visited, weird shit has started happening.”

“Weird shit is always happening in Gotham. What is so special about this weird shit in particular?”

“Oh, he said something stupid to Red Robin—Red Robin came in a little while after he did, I guess they were working together to track down Trickster—anyway, he was talking about how I’m… scared of the Bats—”

“Are you scared of the Bats?”

You throw up a hand, though she can’t see it. “I have a healthy amount of fear and respect for them—and on that note, please don’t tell anyone else I’m telling you this.”

“Of course.”

“Right, well, Flash was just ragging him, you know? About how he has a better relationship with me, someone who doesn’t even live in Keystone or Central, than the Bats do.”

“So?”

“So,” you blow out a big breath, “Red Robin showed up yesterday to get some hot chocolate—”

“Hot chocolate?” Steph asks, disbelieving.

“Yeah. He said it was a better alternative to coffee. Guess he’s not into energy drinks. Weirdo. The whole thing about it—weird. Like… I don’t know. He was just acting weird when he was asking if we had any.”

“… That is weird,” she says, an odd note to her voice. She clears her throat. “And then?”

“I knew why he was doing it so I told him he didn’t have to come around ‘cause he and the others obviously need to uphold a specific perception, right? Then he was all, Well, what does a civilian like you know about it? Can you believe they unironically call us that?”

Steph laughs. She laughs hard.

You wait it out, not entirely sure what or why she is laughing so hard but it’s not the first time she’s ever done that, so you can just let it go.

“Okay,” she giggles. “Sorry. Keep going. What else happened?”

“He left. But then, y’wanna guess who just showed up right now?”

“Who? Batman?”

“God, no. It was Black Bat. She was nice enough. Gave me a big tip. Creepy suit, though.”

“What’d she’d get?”

“Two Red Bulls, a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms. Wonder who that second Red Bull is for. And the snacks. Red Robin realizing hot chocolate in June is weird? Hard to imagine him eating Takis, though. He’s probably like Tim, saying they’re ‘too hot’.”

Steph laughs again for a while.

“Oh, god, you’re killing me,” she gasps out when she calms.

You shake your head, rubbing your finger over a scratch mark in the counter. “I don’t know what is so funny but sure.”

“So, then, what? You think you’re just gonna some more vigilantes? ‘Cause it’s only been two so far.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you grumble. “But it’s two. When previously, this has never happened.”

“True! Well… any preferences? For who comes next?”

“Anyone but Batman, thanks.”

Your next visitor is not Batman.

It is, in a turn of events that makes a little more sense, the Signal.

A few days after your call with Steph, things are fine, until your manager posts to the team group chat about wanting someone for an afternoon shift, saying someone quit unexpectedly. Not one to say no to some extra cash, you latch onto the opportunity—even if it’s an admittedly questionable idea. You try not to work weekends to let yourself recuperate from sustaining your not-so-great sleep schedule.

Anyway, you feel and look like a zombie, but you get your work done.

“I can help the next person in line,” you call.

A tall, broad-shouldered stocky older man with long blonde hair and blue eyes behind coke-bottle glasses steps up, armed with two large cups of coffee. The scrubs he wears clues you into some kind of healthcare position.

“Hi, did you find everything—”

The door opens, your eyes automatically flickering to the movement, and your voice cuts out sharply as you realize who it is.

The Signal stands there a bit awkwardly for a moment as all of you look—the blonde man at the counter and the other man waiting in line.

“Hey, you!”

You flinch, tensing, already fearing a confrontation as the other man steps forward, pointing at the Signal. The one in question tenses, shoulders rising, like he’s preparing to fight. You hope not. That would be a lot of paperwork for you. It’s the manager’s, technically, to report any damage done by vigilantes, but they always give it to you or the other employees on the floor.

But it is not as you feared. Instead of picking a fight, the man… thanks him?

“You’re the Signal, right? Right? You saved my son a few months ago from some muggers following him home from school. Thank you, man. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. He wouldn’t be here with me if it weren’t for you,” the man says, holding out a hand.

“Hey, man,” Signal says, reaching out to shake his hand. “It was nothing. I’m glad I was there to help.”

“Are you here to buy something? Let me cover you. Please. It’s the least I can do—”

“Oh, you really don’t need to—”

“That went better than expected.”

The soft-spoken voice brings you out of your thoughts and you belatedly realize you still have a customer to take care of. But when you look at him, he is watching the Signal try to tell the other man that he doesn’t have to pay for him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you say. “Good thing. Signal’s a good guy.”

He turns back to you as you scan the cups of coffee, pulling out a wallet.

“He is,” he agrees easily—meaning his words, too, a genuine conviction you don’t hear often associated with the vigilantes of the city.

Signal manages to hold firm on not needing the man to pay, repeating that he was just doing his job, and thankfully, the man accepts it with good graces.

You quickly get your current customer wrapped up while the Signal steps into the chip aisle.

You pass him the receipt. “Thank you, have a good day.”

He sends you a small, handsome smile, picking up the cups of coffee. “Thank you, you, too.”

The one after him steps up to pay, talking jovially with you, spirits still apparently lifted at seeing Signal and being able to thank him. It’s a nice moment, you think, and you make sure to respond in kind.

The door swings shut behind him just as Signal re-emerges from the chip aisle, holding a can of Monster Energy and a bag of chile picante Cornnuts. The combination is… surely something. You let yourself slip with it, too, because you’ve personally heard a lot of good things about him. The fact that he works during the day helps his case, too.

“I need the energy,” Signal says, seeing that thought in your face; he doesn’t sound mad, though, just vaguely amused. His suit is filled with more yellow tones, still intimidating but not as much in the daylight, a helmet of sorts leaving only his mouth exposed.

“It’ll definitely give you… something,” you say, chuckling as you scan both.

He pats his stomach. “I have guts of steel. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not a problem as long as I never have to hear ‘guts of steel’ ever again. Jesus. Is that just a natural thing of your biology or is it evolutionary-based?”

“This life isn’t for the faint of heart or stomach,” he agrees, passing you a five dollar bill. “Adaptation is key.”

“I bet.”

Signal laughs, taking his change and dropping it into the tip jar. You smile, too, shaking your head slightly.

“Have a good day.”

He tips his Red Bull at you. “You, too.”

Guts of steel. You nearly can’t believe it.

You pick up your phone, finding your conversation with Tim. You and Steph are hanging out tomorrow, so you’ll tell her about it, then. She asked him, though, and he said he was busy. Too bad. But that doesn’t mean he gets out of being subjected to those words, either.

no joke signal came in to buy a monster energy and cornnuts (a questionable combo) and when he saw me judging he said he has guts of steel

meta related do you think???

makes sense to me. you have a gene inside you that gives you literal powers i think they shouldn’t be having digestive issues/ibs like us common folk do

Your three texts, sent in quick succession, deliver. You bite the inside of your cheek as you see your previous ones still unanswered. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. Not him ignoring you but a bit of a dry spell going on in your messages that was only broken when you told Steph what happened and decided you had to tell him, too.

It’s not his fault. The dry spell from before or the lack of responses going on now.

You started the first thing. So, it’s more your fault than anything for all of that. Steph’s talked to him, though, and she’s never let up on anything amiss…

You groan quietly, dropping your phone on the counter and burying your face in your hands.

Too complicated. Too much.

It never used to be like that but… things changed recently.

You, mostly.

You met Stephanie Brown your second semester at Gotham University.

Taking your required elective, you chose Intro to Psych. She was doing the same. Though, being a social work major, psychology was practically a cousin to it.

The professor for the class turned out to be a total dud. Rambled during lecture, refused to give out study guides, and while he would give out hints as to what material might show up on exams, his questions were trick ones. When people complained, he said some crap about being in a higher ed setting and needing to do better because of it. Like his class was some 300 or 400 level course and not a literal intro course to a large and burgeoning field of study.

But classes are expensive, so, you couldn’t drop it. Refused to, really, knowing you would face much more difficult classes later on, ones you knew you might need to drop and try again. So, you weren’t going to waste the money on this type of class.

Steph was of the same thought.

She sat next to you in the lecture hall. You two didn’t talk until after the first exam and everyone was upset about their grades, the exams having been handed back at the end of class. Your shared frustration brought you together, mostly as you two were ranting about it, you packed up and wound up leaving class together, the both of you just too caught up in your anger to realize you both needed to go in opposite directions for your next class.

You initially agreed to be study partners, to cover more ground that way. But Steph managed to worm her way to your heart by the end of that semester.

Your astounding lack of friends helped, too. Even if things had been that way since your junior year of high school, even if you wanted things to remain that way to protect what little remained of your heart, the loneliness hit you harder than you thought it would when you started college.

And Steph was nice and funny and listened to you and paid attention to you and you… were so very deprived of those things, so it was nice in the beginning, but then you realized, to your own horror, that you actually wanted her to stick her around, that just as she knew nearly everything about you by the end of the semester, you knew nearly everything about her, too, and you wanted to know more, wanted to be there for her like she always was for you.

You have that and more now and you are so very lucky because of it.

Tim, though?

Tim was something else.

Steph told you she had a friend visiting.

Just that—that she had a friend visiting campus and she ‘hoped he could find his way to the computer workstation on the fourth floor because as soon as I sit down, I’m not leaving for anything other than to use the bathroom or some kind of world-ending event.’

It was a particularly grueling paper she had to churn out—twenty pages, heavily research-based with the kind of statistics that made your head spin.

Working at the front desk of the Martha Kane Library at the time, you humored her. Told her good luck and that you’d keep an eye out. The second part was a joke, of course, because she never said who was visiting her and how could you know if she never said anything?

You and Tim Drake wound up finding each other, anyway.

Well, more like he found you.

It sounds sort of romantic, right?

It’s… well, it’s certainly something.

“I’m just saying,” you’re telling him, totally neglecting your homework and the other duties you have at the front desk (you know this last part is especially true by the way your coworker, also at the front desk, is side-eyeing you but come on, there’s no one in line, so it’s fine!). “It’s a solid movie.”

Tim Drake gives you a comically disbelieving look. “A solid movie? It’s—it’s gaseous.”

“Did… you just make a physics joke? About the three states of matter?”

Tim turns an attractive shade of pink. “It’s four, actually, and, uh… yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Steph is right. You really are a geek. Anyway. Cloverfield still sucks.”

“Your opinion is automatically negated by the fact that you think the Final Destination movies have any kind of substance to them.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I just think they’re good ‘cause of Mary Elizabeth Winstead. You probably think the Transformers movies are actually good, don’t you?”

He looks offended. “Don’t insult me. We hate Michael Bay in this house.”

“Sure.”

“But I do think Bumblebee—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Bumblebee is good for a change, we all know it. You’re probably one of those Nolan stans, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think any of what you just said are real words.”

“Oh, they’re real alright. Nolan stans are constantly on his dick, they’re all like, ‘Nolan is so deep and thoughtful and there is no one else like him.’ Wrong. I could find ten of him in the movie industry.”

Tim narrows his eyes accusingly at you. “Steph said Interstellar is your favorite movie.”

“It’s his only good movie.”

“Don’t count out Inception like that.”

“Never seen it.”

“Wow.”

“You know what you sounded like just now? A Nolan stan.”

Tim actually grins at you and your stomach flutters at the sight of it. It’s that that had drawn your eyes to him. The cute but confused looking guy loitering around nearby, systematically checking his phone and glancing around—presumably for a map of the confusing and ancient library. With dark hair, pale skin, and pretty blue eyes that make you feel unbearably seen, Tim Drake is a sight for sore eyes. Your eyes, to be certain.

Of course, you also know he’s here for Steph. That he is the friend she spoke of. And also the ex-boyfriend. That reminder sobers you considerably.

Kind of funny, really.

Much can be said about Tim Drake.

The adoptive son of Bruce Wayne. The kid who snuck into No Man’s Land on a dare and had to be extracted by the US military after his father made a fuss about it. Then later, became controlling shareholder at Wayne Enterprises for whatever reason, boosting him into a very powerful position. Then he got engaged. Then he was shot—he was meant to be killed but obviously, it hadn’t gone that way. All this at seventeen.

But eventually it petered out. He stepped down. Engagement broke off. He recovered. Now? He does some work for WE. That’s all that’s known to the press, anyway.

It’s like you said. Much can be said about Tim Drake.

But most of your impression is from Steph. He plays Warlocks and Warriors sometimes. Is a bit of a computer geek and has built his own PC for gaming. Hits the skatepark every now and then. Likes to spend time tinkering on his car. And… has strong opinions on movies.

Above it all?

He is her ex. A good friend now! But still. That fact remains.

“Anyway,” you say, adjusting your notebook, textbook, and bag of pens just to do something. “You’re here for Steph, right?”

“She told you?”

“Well, she’s obviously told you stuff about me.”

“Steph won’t shut up about you,” he says, seeming more amused than annoyed by that fact. “I can’t imagine it’s the same with me.”

“I know enough.” Like the fact that he is her literal ex-boyfriend. Even if Steph says their relationship wasn’t the greatest, had some very questionable decisions on both their parts, and ended a bit dramatically… he’s still the first person she ever fell in love with. She told you that much. “She’s upstairs on the fourth floor. Hit the elevators over there, then when you get to the fourth floor, turn left, then another left, and the computer workstations are on your right. Can’t miss them.”

“You should watch Inception,” he says, instead of acknowledging literally anything you just said.

You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “You should watch Interstellar.”

He taps a finger on the counter. “We should do both. You, me, and Steph one of these days.”

“I hate to say it, but that sounds like a good idea.”

Steph’s voice scares the shit out of you. You bang your knee on the desk, cursing.

Tim looks unruffled as she comes from the side—the direction of the elevators, joining him at the counter and nudging his shoulder as she goes. He nudges back. They keep the contact.

“Sorry, Stephie,” you say. “We got preoccupied.”

“Arguing,” she corrects, but she doesn’t look upset about it. Instead, her cobalt blue eyes twinkle with something you can’t quite identify as she drops her chin into her palm.

“We weren’t arguing,” Tim says next. “We were lightly debating.”

“Of course. My cute little movie geeks. I think Duckboy’s right, though—” Tim groans slightly and mutters her name in annoyance; she ignores it “—we should get together and see them.”

You scratch your cheek. “I don’t know. Finals—”

“—are not for another month. I say let’s do it.” She looks at Tim and jabs a thumb at you. “She needs more friends.”

“Stephanie, please.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Timothy needs more friends, too. Friends from, say, the other half.” She smiles mischievously, a joke known only by the two of them.

Tim, for his part, rolls his eyes but says nothing in protest.

You don’t need more friends. More friends is actually a very bad idea. Letting one person get close was bad enough. Another person? Hell, no…

But the look on Steph’s face tells you that you, quite frankly, have no say in the matter. And the way you and Tim ‘lightly debated’ movies for a solid half hour tells you, too, that it’ll be too easy for you and he to become friends.

You decide to shelve the issue for now as Steph tugs him away, promising you that she’ll arrange for things.

Maybe it won’t pan out. Maybe he’s actually horribly arrogant and conceited. (Though, if he’s friends with Steph, the likelihood of that is admittedly low.)

You don’t know. All you know is it’s dangerous to let yourself get close to someone else.

But that’s all rather dramatic, isn’t it?

And it didn’t turn out how you wanted—you met Tim in the first semester of your sophomore year; your junior year just ended this May. You’ve been friends with him for a year and half. Steph for two. No end appears to be in sight. But you’ve compartmentalized. It’s just two people. That’s fine.

It’s totally fine.

Even if it’s two people to match the two others you lost when you were fifteen. Like a repayment for the pain.

(Or a way to double it.)

But you lost your parents in the earthquake.

Scientists called that a once-in-a-lifetime event.

There are plenty of things going on in this city that could cost your friends their lives but… it’ll never be as devastating as the earthquake.

The earthquake where you nearly died after a piece of metal pierced your thigh, barely missing your femoral artery, and you spent the entire time from after the earthquake, when they dug your body out of the rubble, and to when they decided to exile the city, in a coma from the infection.

By the time you stabilized, you were on a helicopter to Blüdhaven, the rest of the city in a panic to leave, and your parents were officially gone by that point.

They couldn’t even find their bodies in time.

It took almost three years before they did. The year in which the government turned a blind eye to the city and cast it away, then another two years to rebuild, to sift through the ruin and destruction, to find the bones of the ones left behind since they were decomposed by then, and identifying them was an even more arduous task.

You only managed to receive the catharsis of burying them when you turned eighteen.

You might tempt fate by saying this but even if you lost either of them, the fallout would never beat that. A blessing, in that way.

But even you hate to consider the possibilities of them leaving you. For anything.

They won’t.

Everything will be fine.

It has to be.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers

[if you'd like to be added to the taglist (or removed), let me know here or in my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years

Text

Day 15 - Somnophilia

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x AFAB!reader

Warnings: if you’re under 18, go away!!!

Summary: You fell asleep in front of the monitors while Bruce was patrolling one night and had a great dream. Except the dream feels incredibly real.

A/N: I’m hungover but determined to catch up today. Godspeed. Enjoy, my slutties.

Kinktober Masterlist

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but it had to be around three in the morning. Staying up late and watching the monitors had become a typical night for you, but it had been a stressful week and no amount of coffee was going to keep you going. Bruce’s chair was also incredibly comfy for such a stoic man and you secretly knew it was because he thought of all the nights Alfred or you occupied it as you sat with your worry for his safety.

So while you didn’t remember when you fell asleep, you certainly remember when you woke up.

The dream started normal. Bruce, in one of those delicious suits of his that he wears to the office, entered your shared bedroom. You watched with hungry eyes as he undressed. He was always so meticulous in his undressing. Shoes then tie then jacket. Belt. Tug the shirt out of his pants and then slowly, bit by bit, unbutton the shirt. Then we would approach the bed, shirt open and revealing the tank top he wore underneath with his zipper undone and the black silk of his boxers peeking through. He looked so good, all ruffled hair and dark eyes and a hint of that smirk that always drove you up a wall.

And then he was stepping between your parted legs and kneeling down and you gasped because, for a dream, it felt so real. You could practically feel the touch of his rough tongue against your sensitive, burning flesh. Bruce’s hand pushed your legs further apart as he gently kissed above your clit and then made his way down to part your folds with his nose and then his tongue and you gripped the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair as he made his way to your clit and then slipped one of his fingers into your cunt to press right against…

Your legs spasmed as he pressed down on your g-spot and you pulled him closer, pressing your heels into his back. He moaned into your pussy and the vibrations sent shockwaves through your nerves. Bruce Wayne was a man who put his everything into the task at hand. Bruce Wayne was a very dedicated lover.

Bruce Wayne genuinely loved eating you out and he wouldn’t stop until you came, dripping onto his chin and spilling across his tongue. He savored the taste of you, drinking you in like it was the only thing that sustained him. Fuck, for a wet dream, this was too damn real.

And then he stroked along your g-spot again and your eyes snapped open, a startled cry escaping you. You weren’t in your room, you were still in the cave. Fuck, did you fall asleep? Did you have a wet dream in front of the damn computers?

No.

Bruce was kneeled between your parted legs, your sweatpants and panties discarded on the floor, with his cowl pushed back and his gloves off as he ate you out. You couldn’t think more about the fact that you just woke up because he hit that spot once again and you came apart with a muffled cry. When your mind came back to you and you floated back to earth, you took a moment to catch your breath and then looked down at the blue eyes staring up at you from between your legs.

“Hi,” you panted. “Good patrol?”

His chin was wet with your juices and he leaned up, capturing your lips in a burning kiss. Bruce was always keyed up after patrol. Sometimes he wore off his excess energy through some kind of exercise or working through files. Sometimes, he did it through a few orgasms.

You weren’t going to complain. In fact, you two have had detailed conversations about this in the past, including you giving him the go ahead to wake you up with an orgasm or two.

“Coming back and seeing you…I want you always.”

“Me too, Wayne, me too.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #batman imagine #batman smut #batman x reader

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refiwrites · 2 years

Text

Weddings and Butterflies

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Requested?: Yes.

Summary: After being invited to Christine's wedding, you also come across the person you haven't seen for the longest time.

WC: 2.6k

Warning/s: MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS! fluff, little bit of angst, anxiety mentions lmk if i missed anything

Note: after watching MoM I have fallen harder for this man I swear... feebacks, reblogs and likes are appreciated! let me know what you think!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The door opened with a clicking sound, filling the silence of the empty apartment as you walked in, phone to your ear as you shut the door with the use of your feet.

“....(Y/N), the wedding’s tomorrow, I was wondering if you’d make it- or you’d like to come, it would be nice seeing you again ever since..” Christine spoke through your phone.

You took off your shoes, placing them by the door as you placed your things on the counter.

“Oh, Christine, I’d love to come by, congratulations again, I can’t believe it.” You reply, walking over to the living room. You sat on the soft sofa, getting into a much more comfortable position.

It never felt like time had passed, you even wonder if the rest of the world even remembered some of you.

You stared at the window in front of you that showcased the buildings along with the night sky.

Five minutes. All it took was five minutes and after you were thrown back onto reality again, five years had passed. It took almost a toll on everybody, with all the family and friends they feared are long gone, suddenly popping out of nowhere from when they were stood as the blip happened.

You, luckily enough, were able to lay low for a while, build your life back up again, reconnected with some friends, yet you never thought of reconnecting with the other Avengers.

The dull ache was still there in your heart at the events that occurred. Every once in a while giving you a reminder when you’d wake up in cold sweat.

You blinked as you didn’t register what Christine had said seconds before, “Wait, come again?” You say.

“I said Stephen’s going to be there too. I.. I don’t know if its a right decision to invite him since... well, he agreed, that’s what matters right? And I think he could use a familiar face like yours.”

Stephen. Stephen Strange.

You’ve seen him, you’ve fought alongside him, yet you never once remembered talking to him. He was going to be there.

You knew of their relationship before, but after the blip it seemed like things have gotten worse for him, or so you thought.

“Oh? Stephen? If he accepted then I think it’s not that bad.” You comforted her.

Your mind instantly wandering to the thought of Stephen. Why were you getting anxious? You’re an Avenger just as he is.

“I think so, but hey, I gotta get going, there’s still too many to fix for tomorrow.” Christine said.

“A bride needs her rest, doesn’t she? I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, congrats again Christine.” You responded before bidding each other goodbye and hanging up.

You stared at your phone for a minute, your reflection from the screen staring right at you.

Tomorrow. Wedding. Stephen.

You sigh with closed eyes. How bad could it be?

You stood up and immediately went to your room, you felt like you needed rest much earlier than before.

Waking up, you realized it was already morning. You were afraid you were already late when you glanced at the time.

9:00 AM

You sigh in relief, the wedding wasn’t until an hour, so you had the right amount of time to prepare.

Standing up and opening your closet, you settled on picking out a cowl neck slit maxi dress, along with a heel ankle strapped sandals to go along with it.

You yawned, covering your mouth. You blinked a few times, staring at the outfit you had planned. It looks good.

Then it was time to take a shower.

After that, you wrapped yourself up with the towel, going over to the mirror to dry your hair.

You glanced at the time, a solid 20 minutes before the wedding starts, and it was just the right time to go from here to the church.

You got dressed, straightening out the dress that hugged your figure perfectly. Having no time to struggle with the sandals, with a flick of your wrist as your feet wore it, the straps moved themselves to lock it in place.

You look in the mirror again, mustering a smile you were ready to give later. “The hair...” You mutter.

You shrug, making another movement with your hands to make the desired hairstyle happen. “That’s more like it.”

You went over to your drawer to grab a purse that matched, as well as a gold bracelet to complete your look.

You found yourself staring one last time in the mirror before nodding to yourself. “All right, let’s do this.”

The car ride from the church was tense, because it was the first time you’d be around many people publicly, at a wedding. You didn’t mind, sure, but some of the people were found to be hating, complaining that their lives had been ruined because of you.

“We’re here, miss.” The driver said. You thanked him, paying the amount before getting off the car. There were people already piling up with smiles on their faces.

You tried to make yourself look subtle, walking forward to find yourself a seat. You felt a few gazes on your way as the chatter grew.

By being too busy making yourself look subtle, you were unaware of the figure also standing to look for somebody as you bumped onto them, making you stumble back a bit until they had grab a hold of your wrist. You were looking down at their hand when you realize it was someone in a rather fancy suit.

“I’m sorry I should’ve...” You began, your eyes making the mistake of travelling upwards to meet the man’s eyes.

Cold hard blue-grey ones pierced into yours, making your words suddenly halt. You realized who this was, and how unfortunate you were to bump into him this early.

With his black hair accompanied by grey streaks on the sides, styled perfectly, his suit made him even more appealing. You realized your thoughts, mentally smacking yourself.

“Y- I’m sor-“

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He spoke, his voice thick as he looked at you, letting go of your wrist to let you stand upright. “Christine didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head, his other hand delicately holding the wedding invitation that he got. His heart almost felt destitute of what he was about to witness, he knew Christine was happy, who was he to destroy her life? He knew it in his mind that she deserved better, and attending this wedding may as well be the closure he needed.

But things took a turn as he unexpectedly bumped into you. Stephen could note that he saw you before. Fighting alongside him. And even coming close to saving his ass a few times that he noticed.

“No, no she didn’t.” Stephen spoke. Seeing you in this way rather than messed from a fight had a slight change in thought in his mind that he ignored, still looking at you.

You both ended up looking at each other for a few good seconds before he clears his throat, moving back and gesturing to the seat. He doesn’t usually do that but he finds himself speaking. “Here, take a seat. I think it’ll start soon anyway.”

“Oh, thank you... Stephen.” You say, saying his name felt weird, thinking you should’ve just left it at thanks.

For Stephen, however, his name roll off on your tongue for the first time loud and clear had the tips of his ears tinging pink. “Yeah, no worries. “

Why was he acting this way? Acting like he was having a love at first sight moment. But you looked different from the battlefield to just... normally. He hasn’t known a lot about you, but he knows you could fight good and he respects that.

Watching you sit, he takes the one beside you, fidgeting with the invitation as the chatter resumed behind you.

As you sat, Stephen did the same beside you, both your knees brushing for a brief moment, sending warmth to your cheeks. What on earth, you couldn’t possibly be feeling like this right now? Could you..? For heaven’s sake you weren’t even sure if you could call yourselves friends yet after saving the whole world.

Stephen decided to flush out the things he felt at the moment, deciding to talk with you before the wedding started as people started taking their seats.

You didn’t know why, but as the longer the both of you talked and teased made you instantly comfortable around him.

Even as the ceremony progressed, you and Stephen were silently chuckling and smiling at each other. You even somehow forget what you were nervous about when meeting him.

Though as some might say he was intimidating and a jerk, yes, he was intimidating, but the second one? You thought not so much of, he seemed nice, genuine.

After the ceremony however, came the reception.

Everyone started standing up, getting ready to head for the reception when you realized you haven’t got a ride. But then it seemed like your prayers were answered in a mere second.

“I’ve got my car back there, seeming as you’re not leaving yet, you want to go to the reception together?” Stephen asks, standing up.

You knew better than to pass it up, so you agreed.

Arriving at the place, some looks were given your way as you arrived with Stephen. Some were smiling and pointing, some were even shocked. And some of course wanted some pictures.

The two of you, knowing better, agreed to their requests.

“So are you two together?” One guest asked, an elderly man with glasses. Your eyes widened as Stephen cleared his throat.

“Oh, oh, no. We’re not..” You shyly say. Stephen slowly shakes his head.

“Aw that’s a shame, you two look great together, and now will you excuse me I’m going to grab myself more of the food here. Its great.” The man said, walking past the both of you.

You and Stephen stared at the man, before staring at each other, then bursting out of laughter.

As the ceremony at the reception progressed, you can’t help but feel emotional as both Christine and her husband took their first dance. You could genuinely see how happy Christine looked and you couldn’t be happier for her. You almost swore you were about to cry when they were looking at each other so dearly.

Grabbing a glass of champagne at the small bar, you took a sip before sighing.

Stephen, however, was busy talking with Christine as she approached him.

“Congratulations.” Stephen says, looking at her for a few seconds before averting his gaze away. “Thank you, Stephen.”

“I could tell you’re really happy.”

Christine sighs, nodding and smiling. “I am.” She tilted her head to ask him. “But are you? Are you happy?”

Stephen felt the sudden weight on his shoulders. Was he happy?

The thing is, he doesn’t know.

Stephen nods, preparing yet another lie. “Yeah, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Christine seemed to take it well, but deep down she knows Stephen deserved someone that truly loved him the way she did. And she could see one person who’s just that. You.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Stephen. Whatever that’s going on with you right now, that’ll be over soon. I do hope you find someone, I truly do.” Christine says, but she could see you on the bar, having a drink.

“You’ll never know maybe that someone’s just around the corner.” Christine said.

Stephen wanted to shut his ears, to not listen, but who would that work out for? He’d only make things worse for himself. So he listened, taking her words in. He attended this wedding to find the closure he wanted and that’s what he did get, along with Christine being finally happy.

Stephen looks down, biting the inside of his cheek. “Yes, thank you, Christine.”

Christine laid a hand on his forearm in comfort.

“Christine! Congratulations!” Came your voice from behind them. Stephen perks his head up, turning around as Christine approached you, he saw the champagne in your hand and the bar behind, making a mental note to grab himself a drink as we walked, bidding the two of you to talk.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I’m really glad you can make it, along with Stephen.” She says.

You shake your head. “Of course, you’re almost like a sister to me. I’m really happy to see you up there.”

“Thank you, and speaking of happy, I noticed you and Stephen...” Christine trailed off, a mischievous smile gracing her lips. Your cheeks warmed as you laugh, trying to deny it. “No, no, not gonna happen, Christine.”

She shakes her head. “I saw you two earlier, you looked cute, and besides, you two would make a great pair one day.”

“That’s going to take a long time.” You joked. “Hey, if it means the two of you ending up together then why not? It seems to me you’re the only one person Stephen loved to talk to today, he’s interested in you. Trust me, I know him.”

Your cheeks were still warm as you were flustered. “Just see where it goes, who knows, you’re the one that I trust the most, if Stephen ends up with you then I couldn’t be happier.”

You wanted to believe it, but Stephen still looked broken-hearted. Maybe some other day. You just needed time. “Okay, whatever you say, Christine, congratulations again.” You say. She nods, before going over to the other guests that were calling out to her.

You took a deep breath in. Empty champagne glass in your hand.

Turning around and walking to the bar, you spot Stephen drinking a few glasses of Martini, already finishing one before grabbing another.

“Slow down there, or else I’m going to have to drive you home.” You said, standing beside him as he has his elbow propped onto the bar. “Be my guest.” He replies. You laugh, but then you place your glass down, looking at him take another sip.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He replied.

You shrugged, there was the Strange you knew.

“I don’t know, you don’t look fine to me.”

Stephen shakes his head, he was about to grab another drink when he placed it down. “I’m sorry, there’s just a lot going on my mind.”

“Yeah, I understand, it’s getting a little overwhelming, really.” You say.

Stephen looks at you, before standing upright and grabbing another glass, handing it to you and grabbing another for himself. “Then let’s forget about it for a while.”

You grabbed the drink, swirling it for a moment before looking at him.

The both of you found yourselves talking again, telling all sorts of stories. And by now the both of you were laughing again.

“And he stood there for the whole hour trying to make a portal but then he just kept on making sparks.”

You laugh. “You gotta admit, he’s dedicated.”

Stephen nods. “He reminds me of myself back then.”

“You’ve come a long way Stephen.” You say, smiling genuinely.

“Suppose I have, enough about that. Now, tell me about yourself.” Stephen asked you.

As Christine’s eyes watched the pair of you as you talked and talked, he saw the familiar glint in Stephen’s eye, the look that he used to give when he was admiring something, or rather when he felt happy. A look that he used to give her. And as for you, she could tell Stephen had made his way to your heart.

Christine smiled. She was happy for him, she was happy for you. She could tell this was heading for somewhere better, and with her fingers crossed, she hoped it was true.

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 4 months

Note

In ur opinion,who do u think draw moon knight best?

Mine is Declan Shalvey

BOY DID YOU ASK A QUESTION!!!!!!!

I’ve waxed on and on about the writers of Moon Knight. The best ones, the worst ones, a few mediocre ones that got the job done….

But what about the art?

Each artist has their own style, their own ideas, and their own grasp of Moon Knight.

When you get very lucky, you get a writer and artist dream team that create something beautiful.

Let’s start with Bill Sienkiewicz.

(THIS WASN'T EVEN FOR A COMIC. HE JUST FUCKING DREW THIS FOR FUNZIES)

He was not the first to draw Moon Knight. THAT was Don Perlin! Look at this cape design!

He was relatively new to the comic scene, but quickly a very sought after man. New Mutants, Electra, and many others for many different publishers.

And even after he left us he still pops in now and then to remind us that no one…NO ONE can draw Moon Knight like he can. Look at Sienkiewicz JUST FLEXING.

(2014 people!!) Someone came to him and went, "Hey we could use a Moon Knight Variant. Do you wanna dip back in and hand us a little ol' Moony?"

And he gave them this and I'm sure they went "...WTF we didn't even ask for this. We thought he'd just do him perched on a building or something in the distance. What do we do with this? It's too good holy crap."

(2022 because he felt like schooling us again with another cover)

But he gave us more than the cowl. He gave us the men who wear it.

And as amazing as his art was:

He also gave us the most important pieces:

I could wax on and on about Bill all day… But let’s take a look at some other artists.

Kevin Nowlan Kept the dark parts of the suit and the billowing cape.

Bo Hampton is the one that teamed up with Zelenetz to give us a fantastic sleek and angry design. Here's MK punching some Neo-Nazi in the face!

Chris Warner came later in "First of Khonshu" run and started with a very classic 1990s muscle bound and glitzy design. A design that might start to look familiar to those of you with a sharp eye (look at that belt. We're approaching the BLING age of Moon Knight.)

This was a weird time in comics for Moon Knight. We were switching out writers a lot and he suddenly had a much more Egyptian style theme.

Moon Knight art goes on a WILD ride after this. We get the "Marc Spector" run that spans late 80s and early 80s and the art gets very 90s. Solid, Dark, and BUSY.

Sal Velluto (With the Punisher! This was a fantastic pair up!)

Ron Garney Plays with the sharp edges of the cloak and that’s nice. Also gives his mask a bit more of a definition.

Gary Kwapisz comes in with a BOLD metallic Moon Knight. Just look at those fists! Time time in MK was just wild you guys.

James Fry flies in and tries to make sense of those MUSCLES.

1993 arrived and the 90s hit HARD.

Stephen Platt deep in that 90s style.

What’s happening here? I don’t know. You don’t know. No one knows. But man does it look ACTION COOL.

Muscles got BIG in this period in the 90s. Anatomy got weird and chest size had no limits.

Tommy Lee Edwards steps in and slims our pal Moon Knight back down.

Now THAT is a breath of fresh air. I love this.

Look at the use of that cape! And the hood? The subtle mask outline… Yes please.

Mark Texeira steps in after this. Let me tell you guys about this art. This is the start of the modern age. 2008!

(Look at the little Moon Knight design in the upper right near the signature! OMG little cutie!) Also the details in that rugged face and wet hair.

But how does the suit look?

Nice.

We leave behind the glorious Tex and head to David Finch! You might recognize some of these motiffs as we get to some more popular runs.

Hello there fist spikes! This is when Moon Knight starts to get his reputation as being a bit…punchy…

The point in his cowl gets defined in this style too.

Mico Suayan takes on this hard hitting run too.

Clean lines, dark darks and white whites and that cape! The spikes are gone but the muscles are coming back.

This was a big action packed run and numerous artists got a chance.

Now… This is about where I stop listing every single artist because it gets too fast pace with single issues, annuals, events, and all that fun business. SO here are some highlights. Also I have an upload limit so I'm sorry I can't show you all the beautiful art styles that branched off at this time.

Bong Dazo gave us that little sad startled cat.

Jerome Opeña Had such AMAZING action picks. I’ve never seen action done so well. And that outfit!

I…I could go on forever about this artist and the run he did. But that’s for another day… Just know that I think about it all the time and it lives in my head rent free.

I’m going to skip a lot here and jump to the BIG GUNS.

Hate the run, LOVE the art.

My dear Alex Maleev makes it worth it.

The absolute SLAYING of the white in every image kills me. LOOK. LOOOK AT THE USE OF NEGATIVE SPACE.

It honestly brings me back to Sienkiewicz.

I’m screaming inside holding this up to the moon.

From there we slide SO easily into Declan Shalvey my precious.

You know what I’m talking about.

Ron Ackins Took over from there and it was stellar.

I am going to skip over THREE artists on purpose because not only was the RUN bad (the worst) but also the ART was just the worst. (See BEMIS run. Ugh. Nothing was good in that run.)

Do I need to talk about Greg Smallwood?

Do I really need to post anything about Greg?

Or Cappuccio who works with MacKay's current run?

Or Federico Sabbatini who also fills in with MacKay?

(I would but I'm out of picture space. Thanks Tumblr).

So who is my favorite?

Hard to say… I’m caught up in the colors and designs of some, the action styles of others. Sometimes the raw power of MK’s fighting or just in how clever his cape and cowl are done.

And sometimes I crave that amazing 1980s Sienkiewicz designs of Moon Knight in the rain, Stained Glass Scarlet’s everything, and the shape of Moon Knight (or shapelessness of him).

I could argue that ANY artist that draws Moon Knight during a good run is my favorite. I could forgive most any style if the story is right and the style will weave into the words and the flow of his cape will settle into my heart once again.

And sometimes….

Well…

#Moon Knight #Talk to me about Moon Knight #Ask away #Does that answer your question?#BOY did you ask a question #I always leave out the colorists and inkers and I feel bad #But we wouldn't be here without them #To the finishers too #Layout artists #There are so many people involved in making a comic beautiful

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kindnessisweakness2 · 4 months

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"You look fucking sexy!" Cara whistled as Emily emerged from her bedroom in a pair of tight black leather look trousers and a gold halter neck top. It left her back bare apart from one band that stretched across the width of her back keeping the cowl neck at the front flying away and exposing her boobs. Her tattoo on full display. Paired with black chunky heels and dangly gold earrings, her long black & purple hair was pulled up into a curly/messy up do. "I don't know Car, I feel like it's too much." Cara shook her head, her own ear rings shaking. "No! You look amazing." Emily looked at Cara's outfit. Tight black jeans, a red lacy body con that made her boobs look incredible and red heeled boots. Paired with a black leather jacket, red earings and her hair curled she was ready to go. The sound of a car horn made Cara grin. "That's our cab! No time to change now come on you beautiful bitch. Get out!" Emily groaned loudly as Cara pulled her along, barley having time to lock her front door.

Not even 15 minutes later and they were walking through the gates of Teller Morrow. Jax was right about there being a party. People filled the parking lot, loud thumping of music could be heard even from outside as girls danced around any man with a reaper patch. "Damn these boys know how to throw a party!" Cara whistled as the man that Emily knew as Juice walked past. "And blonde Adonis did not disappoint, that boy is fine with a capital F!" Cara's eyes did not leave Juice as he sat down next to Opie on the far tables by the boxing ring. " Your a horny bitch y'know that?" Emily giggled at her friend. Cara rolled her eyes turning to fully face an amused Emily. "Oh come on! Not like you don't think the exact same about Blondie! I know you Em! I bet your dirty little mind has already fucked that man 6 ways to Sunday!" The Shock on her face was clear as Emily adamantly denied it. "I have not imagined doing dirty things to Jaxon Teller, you bitch!" Emily playfully shoved Cara! "Oh well that disappoints me darlin" a gasp fell from her lips as she turned to face the one and only Prince. Cara giggling like a school girl beside her. Emily felt like the wind was knocked out of her. There he was in his baggy jeans, a grey checkered shirt and that fucking leather kutte she wished she could pull him around by. She would never admit it but fuck the things she wanted to do to him. "Your back tattoo is awesome." He smiled as he admired her back. The full dark image of the grim reaper etched into her back was her most loved tattoo to date. "Thanks! I got it when I was 19 back in England. It's my favourite of all I have." Jax smiled as he watched her light up, tattoos clearly were a passion of hers. "What's the quote say?" Jax leaned closer, his breath fanning across her neck making her shiver and her own breath catch in her throat. "You can be a king or a street sweeper, everyone dances with the Grim Reaper.' Emily recited the cursive words that were inked across her shoulders. "A reminder, both the lowest of the low and the highest will have to face the reaper one day. Regardless of anything, you never out run the reaper. It'll always catch up." Jax smiled wide at her. "Sorry I'm abit morbid. Death, superstition, fate all of it excites me." Emily looked down and picked at the nail polish on her fingers. Noah would constantly tell her to shut up about all that stuff. Hated her ink, regardless of it's meaning to her. Tattoos to him were a turn off. Cara watched it. The moment Emily got excited finally letting a piece of her wall slip away. She also noticed how quick she retreated into herself. Shut herself up without having to be told. Quickly thinking on her feet, knowing she needed to change the subject, Cara stepped forward."Can you introduce me to your friend? He's fit as fuck and like I said earlier we need sexy men!" Laughing at Jax's expression, Cara noticed Emily smile again. "Juice. She likes Juice." Jax nodded throwing his arm around Emily he lead them both towards the table where his brothers sat. "Yo Juice! This is Cara, shes a friend of Em's." Juice smiled at Cara as she went to sit next to him. And that was the moment Emily knew she lost her friend for the rest of the night.

"How are you Em?" Opie asked as everyone around the table smiled at her. Juice and Cara in their own little world, but Happy, Opie, Chibs and Halfsack all watched her with smiles. Shock and confusion must of been clear to see on her face because Chibs spoke up. "Don't worry darlin' we don't bite! Jackie boy here don't shut the hell up about ya. Oh and that lasagne you made...perfection!" He smiled as Jax went red. Emily couldn't help but smile back. He was comforting, had the whole daddy vibe going on. Before she could say anything back to Chibs, she jumped at the feeling of a hand trailing down her back. Turning quickly she locked eyes with Noah. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" She snapped. Noah flashed her a smile that months ago would've easy made her melt and give in. But now? Now it made her angry. "You Not gave in yet? Thought you would've calmed down by now." Jax tensed beside her. "Thought I told you to stay away prospect?" Noah bristled at the way he spat out the word prospect, like it was an insult. "When are you gonna accept the fact I'm done with you?" Noah's face scrunched in anger at her words."You being done have anything to do with the fact HIS bike was parked outside our house 3 nights ago?" He spoke through gritted teeth. Jax went to step forward but Emily's hand on his chest. This was her fight. "MY House. MY bed. MY Choice." Noah's hands shook With temper. "Oh so your not denying it? You had him in MY BED?" Emily felt the redness creeping up her neck spreading like fire. It wasn't embarrassment though, it was pure rage. "Oh you mean the bed you had that WHORE in? No not that I got rid of it. Just like I got rid of you you little weasel." The laughter from Jax tipped Noah over the edge. "I told you to stay away!" Out of nowhere, Noah was knocked to the floor by a feisty brunette. Cara standing over him high heeled boot hovering at his groin. "I dare you to move you little wanker." Noah looked up at her clearly pissed off. "fuck sake when did you get here?" Hands on her hips, Cara blew a fallen strand of hair from her face. "Not soon enough, clearly. Now listen to me..." Cara pushed her stiletto heel hard enough into his groin to make him groan but not near enough as hard as she wanted to. "This is your last warning to back off. I swear little boy, I'll stomp on them till their mush." When Noah didn't respond she pressed down slightly harder, making him groan in pain again. "Fine." He spat. When Cara didn't move her foot, Noah looked at her questioningly. "I think your missing something?" Noah grinded his teeth in anger. Looking at Emily who stood silently next to a grinning Jax, Noah mumbled a pathetic "I'm sorry." Cara sighed in fake disappointment. "I think you can do better than that." Noah muttered something about her being a crazy bitch. "I'm sorry Emily. I really am. I love -" Cara clapped her hands sarcastically, "Well done almost believed your performance. That'll have to do, your cutting into our fun now off you fuck!"

Emily looked blankly at Noah as she watched him pull himself up from the floor and with one last look sloped off into the clubhouse. She had an unsettling feeling in her stomach as it twisted and turned. Was it just the effect of seeing him again? If he thought Jax was sleeping with her did everyone else? Was this fun and games to Jax? Fuck around with the prospect and wind him up, get under his skin. She didn't know what to think. But there's one thing she couldn't deny and that's the way her heart leaped when she looked at Jax. The way her stomach fluttered. That feeling was hope. And she wouldn't allow herself to entertain it. She's messed up enough as it is right now. Jax could have anyone he wanted, it was a known fact he slept his way around Charming and she won't let her heart get crushed again.

Distance. That's what she needed.

#jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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lacrimosathedark · 2 years

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I have made quite clear how much I adore Jason Peter Todd, despite how frequently he is written terribly. RHATO is Not Good, but pre-Flashpoint was...chaotic for his characterization to say the least.

HOWEVER!

I wish to give my fellow Jaybird lovers some stable ground if they’re looking for decent and consistent Red Hood characterization post-resurrection.

[Fuck you Battle For the Cowl that was a shitshow]

Most people cite the Under the Hood storyline as the best work about Jason. That story was written by Judd Winick. So, here’s a list of stories involving The Boy written by Judd Winick, with short summaries so you know what you’re getting into! And some images because I can’t not.

Batman Vol 1 629: This is not actually Jason, but a Scarecrow hallucination Bruce has, but it still characterizes both Bruce and Tim’s thoughts about Jason and his potential return. It takes place pretty smack-dab between Hush and Under the Hood.

I appreciate the Hush outfit with the white streak. Excellent.

(also Tim looks like a baby and I just want to give him hugs)

Batman Vol 1 635-641 aka Under the Hood Vol 1 Batman Vol 1 645-650 and Annual 25 aka Under the Hood Vol 2 No description necessary; if you know Jason, you know how this goes.

Green Arrow Vol 3 69-72: Red Hood comes to Star City and decides to have a talk with current Speedy, Green Arrow’s sidekick, Mia Dearden.

Contains this gem:

I love him so much he’s such a dramatic bitch.

He changed the scoreboards what the fuck--

And this oof

Outsiders Vol 3 44-46 and Annual 1: Jason provides the Outsiders, specifically Dick and Roy, with intel exonerating Black Lightning/Jefferson Pierce from murder he thought he committed. Jason’s not the center of this story, but I like it a lot.

For my fellow Harper family lovers, 45 has a lot of cute Roy and Lian too, including this part that rips my heart out.

Lian is my angel and I would die for her.

For my fellow Gays, these also have the start of the relationship between Anissa Pierce and Grace Choi

also includes this dumbfuckery:

He’s a dork and I love him.

Batman and Robin (2009) Vol 1 23-25: Red Hood reluctantly teams up with Dickie-Batman and Brat Wonder Robin to save his kidnapped former sidekick, Scarlet.

Please excuse some of the art bullshit; yes, it has ginger Jason, and yes the covers use the dumb pill helmet design. But for the record, he doesn’t actually wear the pill helmet thank fuck, and the hair thing was more for continuity. They were established during Grant Morrison’s run as writer because they don’t do their goddamn homework enough to know ginger Jay is not canon Post-Crisis! Or that even then he chose to dye his hair black! (Yes I’m bitter that’s how they fucked over Talia too UGH)

At least his costume is fixed; it combines the dumb supervillain-y costume with his old biker-y look, and tbh I think it’s really cool. Aside from the bright red guns that look like toys.

Not that that lasts because this is one of if not the last appearance of Jay before the reboot! Thanks, Barry.

[small edit cuz I just can’t with this man]

He’s also a little shit throughout the whole thing. It is his mission to annoy Dick and Damian and it’s great.

BOI--

[end small edit!]

He also gets stripped for...reasons. If you’re interested. I wasn’t, but I know some of yall are nasties (/affectionate) so here’s that.

Red Hood: The Lost Days: Goes more into detail about Jason’s experience between his death and his big return to Gotham. So! Much! Trauma!

Also where this image comes from:

He really said that. So uh...yeah.

He has always been a snarky dorky bastard and I love him very much.

[EDIT ADDITION Thank you @someoneimsure]

Robin 80th Anniversary 100 Page Super Spectacular: Jason’s story is called “More Time”, which is a story with Robin Jason and Red Hood Jason have a parallel story giving Bruce a gift on his birthday. Specifically, fixing his father’s old watch.

I love him. LOOK AT THIS BABY

(He’s talking about the watch but that literally could be said about Jason and ow my fucking HEART--)

Look at this. God I just...sometimes Jason just fills my heart with love and it’s too much. He’s a good boy!

Unfortunately, he and Steph share the space of only having one story which is bullshit. Timmy and Dami both get two, which is totally fair. But Dickie gets four. Rude. Sharing is caring, Dickiebird.

[END EDIT Thank you :33]

FOR NOTE

Things with Jason NOT written by Judd Winick Pre-Flashpoint that are major (but personally I think kinda suck) are Battle for the Cowl, Countdown, and his weird murdery Nightwing phase.

Jason Todd, everybody.

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kittykatninja321 · 7 days

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Literally a: "Love your hair, hope you win." ALSO UHMMM ACHUALLY STEPHANIE WOULD BE RED HOOD NOT TIM ANYWAY

The only good thing I've seen come out of reverse shit is Damian as Nightwing cuz DC are pussies

I do think Damian as Nightwing kinda slays, anything to save him from the curse of the cowl honestly

#And yeah red hood Steph I can see. I don’t think Tim has that dog in him like that but Stephanie could #Asks

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davidlcki · 2 years

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you’re my melatonin

pairing: pattinson bruce wayne x reader

warnings: reader has insomnia but fic is very fluffy. SUPER NOT REVISED NO ONE SAY ANYTHING

words: 530 very small fic

(have any bruce wayne fic ideas? send a request my way and id love to write it out!)

you wished it was an exaggeration when you say you cant sleep. every single night it plagued you, you couldnt sleep any earlier than 2 am most nights. even when you met bruce wayne, and moved into wayne manor, and everything seemed to be going well in your life, your nightly struggles continued.

“what’re you doing up?” bruce’s tired voice rings out into the cave, he had just came back from his nightly outing. currently, you were curled up on his chair, mindlessly watching a youtube video on his computer.

“the usual. cant sleep. i was also waiting for you.” you respond, turning in his chair to look over at him. both of you were exhausted, worn down to the bone. it was 3:47 am.

“bad night?”

“don’t wanna talk about it” bruce says nothing more, pulling his cowl off and making his way over to you. he was dragging his feet, tossing his armor carelessly in whatever direction until he was in just his under clothes.

“come on” his voice cuts through the silence, his arms outstretched to you. with your blanket still wrapped around you, you stand and let bruce lift you into his arms. you rest your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sighing as he takes the both of you up the elevator, and into your shared bedroom.

“hey, i’ll be right back” you give bruce a peck on the lips before jogging out of the room. after a few minutes, you were back with 2 glasses of chocolate milk and bruce’s favorite movie.

“you know me so well” bruce smiles, gratefully taking his glass and placing an arm around you as you settle under the covers. the movie begins to play and you were cuddled into bruce’s side. finally, you were beginning to feel drowsy.

“i don’t think i can sleep without you, you know.” bruce looks down at you with half lidded eyes, the two of you were on the brink of sleep. a smile graces your lips as you look up at him.

“me either. you’re like, my melatonin.” you giggle quietly as bruce rolls himself on top of you. the two of you look at each other for a while, drinking in the others features in a state of drowsiness. neither of you were the verbally affectionate type, and considering you were both kinda awkward and introverted, pda was not an option. in public, no one would have guessed you were dating, and it wasn’t on purpose. your affection was reserved for behind closed doors, like tonight, your love for each other was shown with soft kisses and cuddling up in bed, a movie in the background as you relish in the peace, a luxury the two of you rarely experienced.

bruce places a lazy kiss to your lips, moving down ever so slightly so he can lay his head on your chest, arms loosely and comfortably wrapped around you. finally, the two of you were out, your fingers tangled in his black hair, and the movie still playing in the background. this was your rare night of peace, and you relished in every second of it.

IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR???? this was made purely because i need comfort thank you and goodnight

#fanfiction #dc universe #one shot #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne x reader #dc oneshots #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson one shot #robert pattinson #the batman #comfort fanfic #comfort fic #comfort fluff

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the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake · 6 days

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Just A Kid Next Door - Chapter 5

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 5---------------------------------

Dick couldn’t help but let his thought wander as he drove through the streets of Gotham, to the Manor. He glanced at Damian who was sitting in the passenger seat of the BatMobile, lost in his own thoughts while sporting a scowl.

Richard Grayson was Seven years old when he had his first nightmare.

That night, he dreamt about gross-looking, purple colored alien, using its power to set Zitka on fire. He screamed and screamed, screamed for help, but the alien only laughed.

When he woke up, all sweaty and tired, his mother was there, hugging him tightly and whispering sweet nothings. She was running her finger through his tangled hair while the other hand was holding his head closely to her chest. Her actions were soothing him.

Then his father came, holding out to him a glass of milk, with an encouraging smile.

That night, he slept peacefully, clinging to his mother and father.

The BatMobile came to a stop having come to the BatCave. Dick got out of the vehicle as fast as he could and made his way to the Med Bay. He saw Alfred standing in near the entrance, his expression a mixture of surprise and relief.

Relief.

Dick is relived too.

The next morning when he woke up, he was still scared about the previous night's dream. Hence after practicing his first routine for that day, his mother took him to a park and they both sat under a tree.

After few minutes of comfortable silence, his mother took out two colored papers out from her purse and handed one to Dick and kept one for herself.

“Dragă, when I was a child, just like you, I used have many bad dreams too. Then my Papi taught me how to make these beautiful paper crafts as a distraction. My Papi was great at it.

She let out a long sigh, thinking about Dick’s late grandfather.

“So whenever I used to have those dreams, we both would make many beautiful crafts like this together. It helped me to focus on other things and forget about those awful dreams.”

She turned and looked at him, her eyes shining, just like the sequins on their Leotards that they wear for the shows.

“I think it’s time for me to pass on that tradition to you, my copil.

That day, he made his first ever origami with his mother, a ‘Robin’.

From that day, every time Dick had nightmares, he and his mother would make various colourful origami which would ease all of his worries.

“Dr. Leslie Thompkins is checking upon Master Bruce, Master Dick. She forbade anyone from entering. I suggest you to be at ease, until then.” Alfred commented.

Dick couldn’t do anything but nod.

He removed his cowl, letting out a huge sigh as he took a seat in one of the chairs. Damian was carefully noting all of the young Batman’s moves.

Richard Grayson was eight years old when he lost his parents due to a fatal accident, which he later discovered to be a murder.

Richard Grayson was eight years old when he became an orphan.

Richard Grayson was eight years old, when his whole world was ripped away from him.

But Dick was also eight years old, when he was adopted by Bruce Wayne as his legal ward.

Dick’s thoughts were interrupted when Dr. Leslie exiting from the medical room.

“Just some mild cuts and bruises here and there. But all in all, I’d say he is doing great. And I’ve put him under mild pain medication, so it would probably take some time for him to wake up.” Dr, Leslie said, packing her equipment.

“And by the way, you could see him now.”

Dick slowly made his way to the medical room, and was greeted by the sight of Bruce’s sleeping form. He saw Damian make his way to one side of the bed, taking one of Bruce’s hand in his. Even having spent quite some time with Damian now, he was still unable to read the young boy’s expression.

The room was completely silent.

Dick took small steps towards the other side of the bed, while eyeing Bruce carefully. Bruce looked sickly pale, his body had lost some muscles which made him look gaunt.

But dick also noticed that Bruce’s face was calm. His face looked unusually calm.

Dick took his seat on a small chair next to Bruce and took his other hand in his. He vaguely noticed Alfred wiping his tears.

It took him a minute to realize that he was crying too.

Dick was nine years old when he had his first nightmare in the Manor. He had dreamt about his parents falling off their trapeze, he saw the rope breaking, saw his parent’s smile turning into a scared expression, saw his parents fall. And he wasn’t able to do anything but cry.

It had just been few days since his adoption. But this time, his mother was not there to provide him comfort or his father, to give him a glass of milk. His mother was not there to help him make his origami figurines.

He got up from his bed and made his way to where he kept his school bag. He took out a few colored sheets and made his way to the kitchen.

He switched on the lights and took his seat in the dining area.

He tried to make a Robin origami this time, but all he did was cry and cry, cry until the coloured paper was wet due to his tears.

But he failed to notice a shadowy figure make its way towards him.

Bruce took a seat next to Dick, who was shaking, seemingly have not noticed the older man’s presence.

Bruce took one of his hands in his, which made Dick turn towards the older man, his eyes bloodshot and wide.

Then Dick crashed onto Bruce that night. He cried and cried, cried until he fell to a deep slumber. Bruce did nothing other that hold the shaking kid in his arms, praying that this would pass. Praying that his kid could recover from the trauma. Praying that he would not turn out to be like him.

The next morning when Dick woke up, he was surprised to see himself on his bed.

He did not fail to notice a Bat shaped origami on his night stand.

“Bruce” he called out, his voice trembling.

“Br-Bruce, wake up.”

He took his mentor's hand and brought it to his forehead, bending his head, and he cried.

Ever since that night, it became an unspoken tradition for both to leave origami figures for each other when the other was stressed or feeling down. It became even more frequent when Dick became Robin because of his increasing nightmares.

But every time, Bruce was there for him, providing comfort.

But as Dick grew and entered his teenage years, it became less frequent.

Dick and Bruce started having more and more disagreements and fights. In the beginning, they would use origami to converse with each other, mostly for apologizing. But as days passed, their fights grew more and more frequent, until one day when Dick altogether decided to put an end to it.

Their bonding activity came to an abrupt end, when dick moved out of the Manor.

Dick was silently shedding tears, when he heard a rough voice.

“Chum” Bruce called out, he eyes squinting, trying to adjust to the lights.

“Bruce, you’re back. God, I missed you so much, B”

Dick immediately hugged the old man, his head to Bruce’s chest hearing his heart beat, and cried.

These few months had been one of the hardest days of his entire life. Losing Bruce, he was forced to take up the Mantle of Batman and make the right choices as the next responsible adult.

Becoming Batman, leaving Nightwing, making Damian Robin, letting Tim go was the hardest decisions he’d ever had to take.

But he had to do it. Do it for the sake of his family, do it for the sake of Gotham.

Gotham needs Batman, so he had to make the right choice.

He was hurting. Hell, he was grieving. But he had no one to turn to. Despite having awful nightmares, he had no origami figures on his nightstand anymore. He had no one to provide him comfort.

He had lost his Dad once again.

He hugged Bruce tightly, fearing that he would disappear into thin air if he doesn’t do so.

Bruce closed his eyes and relished the feeling of his firstborn hugging him. He then glanced at Damian, who was watching them closely.

Bruce smiled and motioned him to join the hug. When Damian made no move, Bruce pulled the young boy towards him and hugged him.

Damian went rigid for few seconds, before closing his eyes and returning the hug. The three of them spent the next few moments huddled together, peacefully.

#batfam #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #cassandra cain #duke thomas #bruce wayne is a good parent #barbara gordon #dc comics #alfred pennyworth #justice league #young justice #tim drake angst #hurt tim drake #tim drake needs a hug #batfam needs to go to therapy #angst angst baby

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jokingmisfit · 9 months

Text

'First' Sights Part 2

Eobard Thawne x Reader

This a part 2 read part 1 first

Warnings- Main character deaths, fear, little description of gore

It was another twenty minutes when I got a message back saying they were sending him back now. With dread in my stomach I made my way back down to help ensure everything went according to plan.

Making my way down the corridor, I find it odd how quiet it is. Looking into the cortex I find a horrific scene. I find it hard to keep everything in my stomach as I stand in fear.

Blood splattered and slightly dried on the main desk. Screens are pulled up to the pipeline cell, which is empty. None of this was as horrific as Joe who laid on the floor leaned against the chair with his heart ripped out of his chest and a look of terror on his face.

Shakily I moved through the front of the cortex. An empty table sat holding a slouched Catlin. Her head rested against the table and her hand held tightly the pole next to her. Walking a bit closer I see the hole in her back… And her heart on the floor.

Where the hell is Cisco?

What the hell happened?

I ran down to the pipeline.

“Harry!” I scream out. “Barry!” I scream louder.

I finally find Harry laying against the wall. His hair is matted and there are dry tears on his face. There’s no holes in his clothes or skin, but there’s also no heartbeat or breath in his lungs.

My breathing is ragged as I continue down the hall. I haven’t felt so tense, so emotional in a long time. A part of me feels like this isn’t real. A part of me doesn't believe they’re actually dead.

I make my way to the closing, but still there’s no evidence other than their bodies.

“Barry!” I scream out.

I could hear the echo before the wind hit me.

Red. The lightning was red.

I should’ve known Eobard did this…

I turn to face the man in yellow clad and watch him take off his cowl. His eyes glow with pride. His lips turn up in a snarky smile.

“There you are.” He says smiling. “Did you see your little gifts?”

“Where’s Barry?” I whisper.

“Don’t know, don’t care. He’s not important right now.” He says while slowly stepping towards me.

I shake my head in confusion. “You’re obsessed with him; what do you mean he doesn’t matter? I don’t get it… you. He, Barry, wouldn't have let you kill them.”

“Well Flash wasn’t quite fast enough.” Eobard softly grabs my arms. He tilts his head while looking at me.

“Why are you here, what could you have possibly gained from any of this?” My voice breaks at the end of my sentence.

I’ve never felt so helpless, so defeated, confused, and… hurt. I just don’t understand.

He shakes his head with a breathless laugh. “I had to come back to get you, silly girl. I couldn’t just leave you here alone could I?”

I rip my arms away from him. I raise my voice, “You said you didn’t love me! You told me you were faking, using me! You left!” I pause. “How do you even remember me? You, you aren’t the same Eobard I know. You’re not, you're not supposed to know me, so how d-”

“Of course I had to pretend you weren’t important. I needed things to go according to my plans… Then foolish Eddie thought he could be a hero. I had back ups however. I made one little contingency plan just for you.” He steps forward and grips my hands as he speaks. “I used the negative speed force to propel my memories of you and my plans to another version of myself. And once I received those memories I knew I needed to get my princess back.”

I couldn’t gather the words or thoughts. Eobard came back for me. Eobard loves me. Eobard killed all of my friends, but I didn’t actually like them. I didn’t care. It’s like a train. All of the emotions I’ve shut out, coming back.

Tears gathered in my eyes. My voice was broken and quiet, but I need to know. “You love me?”

The smile he gave could light the sky. “I love you.”

A deep breath and a look around. I smile.

“Then take me home, Eobard.”

#eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne #reverse flash #reverse flash x reader #the flash cw #the flash #arrowverse #yandere eobard thawne x reader #yandere eobard thawne #yandere reverse flash

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daresplaining · 1 year

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Butch: "Wait...you're telling me it was actually Matt?" Matt: "Yeah...it was Matt. He came back from rehab, went to his apartment... I don't know what the #$@% Fisk was thinking, but I know they've got history and... Ah, Butch. He killed my brother." Butch: "I'm sorry, Mike. I really am. But I'm so #$@% glad it wasn't you. I thought...I thought I sent you away, right into my Dad's hands." Matt (caption): "[...]I've done this before. Back in the day." Butch: "[...]I'm sorry, Mike. I really am. All I can do now is be better than I have been. I know you weren't...happy about some of my decisions lately, but I want you to know..." Matt (caption): "The trick was always in the eyes. Not just making sure they faced the right direction...but that no matter what, he had kindness in them..." Butch: "...I'm going to be better. No more killing. I don't want to be him. I want to run this city with fairness, with compassion." Matt (caption): "...and I don't." Matt: "You better." Butch: "I...what? Look, you're my partner here, and I know you're grieving, but maybe take it down a--" Matt: "Let me make it clear for you. If you hurt people, if you commit violence and terrorize others...I'll come stop you." Daredevil vol. 7 #1 by Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto, Matthew Wilson, and Clayton Cowles

This post has been in my drafts folder for almost a full year, for no reason other than the fact that I kept feeling like I had more to say about it. But I always have more to say about Mike scenes. Return with me to this bombshell of a conversation from Daredevil volume 7 #1 (twinkly flashback SFX)...

Kind eyes? I always thought the trick to an effective Mike Murdock disguise was in the feathered cap and the goofy sunglasses, but what do I know?

Anyway, jokes aside, let's talk about this doozy of a scene from the new #1, which kicked off the second volume of Zdarsky and Checchetto's Daredevil run. To start, I am delighted by the return of colorist Matthew Wilson, whose stunning work previously graced the back half of Daredevil volume 4.

Daredevil vol. 4 #14 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Caramagna

I've really missed that bright red hair.

This scene directly follows up on the events of Devil's Reign, and the brutal (but maybe not permanent!) death of Matt's dear Real Boy twin brother at the hands of the Kingpin. Specifically, it follows up on what we have seen as the progression of Matt's response to Mike's death: attempting to take advantage of the situation for his own gain in ghoulish and disturbing ways. We have seen Matt bury his brother under his own name-- in a way, capping the Soule/Noto "Double Vision" arc by erasing Mike in the only way still possible (possibly not Matt or Zdarsky's intention, but the parallel is undeniable). And now we see Matt using Mike's identity as a tool and a weapon, trying to gather information on Fisk's whereabouts, and toying with Butch's grief for the sake of adding weight to his crimefighting. We are getting a close look at what it actually means to give Matt Murdock an identical twin, and wow, it is not pretty.

That said, I do not believe that this new horrible co-opting of Mike's identity undermines any of the previous indications that Matt is, in fact, grieving-- despite how callous this seems on the surface. We will always have Devil's Reign #6's brutal display of Matt's pain before he started putting his emotional shields up, and in this issue he has a wonderful scene with his superhero BFF Peter Parker in which, among other things, he opens up a teeny-tiny crack in those shields regarding Mike.

Peter: "Oh god...Mike. Your brother." Matt: "Yeah. I'm okay-- it's just been...it's been hard."

(I love that Peter knows about Mike, since he was largely responsible for Matt creating him in the first place. And of course, I also love that Matt has finally restored his friend's memories-- though that's a topic for another post.) But let's take a look at what we have here, which is, plainly and simply, the weaponizing of the Mike Murdock identity. Which is amazing. Matt mentions here that he has impersonated Mike before, "back in the day". We learned in the 2020 Annual that in the new MCU (Mike Continuity Universe), Matt pretended to be his brother as a kid, back before his accident, to get Mike out of summer school. However, that is almost certainly not what he's referring to here. I'm pretty sure he's referring to this:

Daredevil vol. 1 #25 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, Frank Giacoia, and Artie Simek

We're coming full-circle! Zdarsky has said before that in this version of reality, Matt did still pretend to be Mike in the original Mike Murdock Saga, rather than it being Mike himself, but this is the first actual on-panel reference to that being the case. We don't get context, we don't get the full story, but even just that little reference to the events of "back in the day" warmed my little Mike nerd heart. And having seen Mike pretend to be Matt in this run, we are now finally, finally! getting to see Matt pretend to be Mike, bringing this whole grand Real Boy Mike experiment-- again-- full circle.

I joked about the "kind eyes" comment at the beginning of the post, but I do want to talk about it because it's a striking thing for Matt to say. I had a great conversation with @thosemintcookies about this a while back, regarding how that comment might be interpreted. After all, while there are many colorful adjectives that can be used to describe Mike Murdock, "kind" is not one that jumps immediately to mind. Not that Mike isn't a decent person, but he has never been shown to be any kind of bastion of goodness, even in the 60s. He's a rascal. And kindness in his eyes? What does that look like? How long has it been since Matt has even seen his brother's eyes? It's an odd thought for him to have, and it reeks of projection. On the surface, he is saying "To pretend to be Mike, I need to seem like a nice person", but what it really may mean is "To pretend to not be me, I have to pretend to be a nice person". Again, we return to that hidden grief, and attached feelings of (normal, secular!) guilt. Matt feels like a scumbag, and in this instance, he's got a pretty good reason. He did not directly get his brother killed, but his brother is still dead because of him, killed by proximity just like so many other people in his life, and now he is doing horrible things to Mike's memory. If he's feeling like a sucky human being at the moment...then yeah, he's not entirely wrong there.

But! Note the past tense: "The trick was always in the eyes". This feeling that his brother is a better person than him is not new. We have painfully few details about Matt and Mike's new past together, so this is worth examining. Is Matt, in his grief, now projecting a morality onto Mike that wasn't actually there? Or has Matt always looked up to his brother in this way? Does he see himself as capable of dark things that Mike, for all of his rascallitude, would never do? It's a fascinating shift in a dynamic that we have previously seen only from Mike's perspective, which showed us the smart, obedient, selfless brother and the disappointment of a twin who could never measure up. Here, we may have Matt's side of things: the flawed but ultimately decent brother and his violent, deceptive, disobedient, callous, chaos gremlin twin. The idea that they both may have seen each other as the better person is absolutely fascinating, and is, of course, informed by the layers of secrets they were keeping from each other.

And of course, there is another facet to this-- Mike's origins. As Mike was once a wish fulfillment source for Matt at a time when he felt he had to hold his personality in check, now we are seeing him as a different flavor of wish fulfillment-- a vision of a better, kinder version of Matt when he is feeling at his most scummy and unkind. The body is barely cold and Matt is already martyring his brother.

Moving on to the rest of the scene, Matt is being horrendously cruel to Butch here in using his dead best friend to get close enough to threaten him...though he doesn't have any reason not to be. It's very likely that he blames Butch for Mike's death-- if not in the immediate sense, then in the fact that Butch's friendship led Mike into a life of crime. Plus, Butch is the new Kingpin and has been going around killing people, so there's also that. When Matt is in pain, he doesn't need much of an excuse to do nasty things to people he dislikes. He could have just shown up here as Daredevil with Spider-Man in tow and delivered his threat, but instead, he adds some psychological warfare-- dangling the hope of Mike still being alive in front of Butch and then ripping that hope away.

Not only that, but it is, for lack of a better term, ballsy as hell. He just strolls in here without a mask on, confident in his ability to fake being Mike well enough to convince Butch, and then he goes "Psych! I'm not Mike after all. I'm just Daredevil in a...really, really good wig and make-up?" Has Matt just revealed his secret identity here? Is Butch going to connect the dots: Matt Murdock vanishing into thin air despite supposedly being "in rehab", Daredevil not only managing to look exactly like Mike but also to play him with a degree of accuracy that suggests he knew him well...? Sure, this might spook him into being a well-behaved little Kingpin, but isn't it also going to make him extra angry and determined to avenge his best friend's death? (I hope so.) Maybe Matt no longer cares. He is leaving the city, and he mentions in this issue that he feels like he isn't going to return this time. (Obviously he will, but that's not the point.) Maybe it doesn't matter anymore if one NYC bad guy knows his secret identity. Maybe he is taking advantage of that, even, to go in here and have the unique pleasure of doing this face-to-face-- in a way, using Mike once more as Daredevil unmasked.

#Long post #Daredevil vol. 7 #Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Butch Pharris #Mike Murdock #Mike Murdockalypse #Commentary #ID in alt text

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