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just-a-creep-babe · 2 months

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A Demon’s Ache — Part 20

Eyeless Jack x Reader

A Demon's Ache Masterlist

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss — thank you so so much for your whole support throughout this entire series! It genuinely wouldn’t be here without you, and I appreciate it so much 💓💗💖

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Pain

Before he can even begin to understand where he is, all he can register is pain

His body’s numb with it

A groan escapes him

Blood pounds in his eardrums

It feels like his head’s being split open from the inside—he can’t remember the last time he had such a bad migraine

He reaches up to press his hands to his head, as if doing so could alleviate his headache, and the movement is accompanied by the sound of metal clanging against metal

He pauses, his body stiffening as he realizes there's a weight around his wrists

He’s chained down to something

With a disgruntled sound, he forces his attention to his surroundings

The first thing he notices is that he’s in some sort of basement, with dark wood-paneled walls and bare stone floors

He’s not wearing his mask, his face uncomfortably exposed for anyone to see, but that’s the least of his problems right now

He's kneeling, chained to the wall, he realizes, in front of both you and The Operator

Worry laces your features

The scent of your stress and fear permeates the otherwise stale, dead air

Panic infiltrates Jack's system as things start to click into place

What happened?

He tries to think back to the last thing he remembers; something about running through the forest, something about wanting to kill

But the more he tries to remember, the louder that dull pounding in his head grows, and he realizes he just can't concentrate properly

Not right now, anyway, not like this

He tries to shake the discomfort off, and then, feeling awkward just kneeling there in front of the both of you, he stands

Or, at least, he tries to stand, but his legs are shaky and unstable, like he recently over-exerted himself, and his muscles are too stiff to function properly, so he gives up, and simply stays on the dirty floor

“Jack…” you say his name, then hesitate, like you’re scared or uncertain about something

It breaks his heart

He wants to reach out and comfort you

Before anything else—before even figuring out what happened and why he’s here—he just wants to make sure you’re ok

Jack Nyras

He flinches at the sound of his name, his real, full name, echoed in his mind by The Operator's rumbling hiss

He can't remember the last time he heard that name—it feels like lifetimes ago

He'd almost forgotten it entirely, and, in all honesty, he would've preferred to keep it that way

You have violated the laws of the Safe House

Static fills his mind, growing in intensity with every word

What is your defense?

Defense?

He can hardly remember what happened, and now he's supposed to defend himself?

He tries to concentrate again, tries to think through the noise crowding his head

He remembers making it to a cabin—the proxies' cabin?

He remembers wood splintering and glass shattering, and then there was something about a fight, something about squeezing someone's neck between his hands, feeling pleasure as their life slowly drained away

He shivers, repressing the memory

What is your defense?

The question is repeated, louder this time, noticeably less forgiving and more commanding

"I-I don't know," Jack admits out loud, "I don't have one"

You are aware of the consequences of violating the laws of the Safe House

Even though it isn't a question, it's phrased as though The Operator expects an answer

And so, with a nod, Jack complies

"I am"

The faceless monster tilts its head to the side, the motion, of which, might’ve been unnerving if Jack hadn’t grown so used to it

Do you accept the consequences?

The hybrid furrows his brows

The biggest rule of the mansion was to never intentionally harm another resident

The punishments ranged in severity depending on circumstance, but Jack definitely had the intention to kill—and to kill one of Slender’s beloved proxies, nonetheless

Having him ask if he accepted the consequences could only mean one thing; he was about to face expulsion

How could he just accept that?

He looks up at you, at your fear, at your nervousness and confusion and uncertainty

What about her? Why did you drag her down to see this?

He doesn't say it out loud, but he directs his question to the eldritch being

Her presence is for her own benefit, seeing as her fate is tied to yours

It takes him a moment to register the low timber pervading his mind

And, at first, he almost thinks he didn't understand correctly

"What do you mean?"

He asks the question slowly, carefully, keeping his voice low as if to contain the mix of emotions threatening to surface

He doesn't look away from you as he asks, either—he can't

He wants to see your reaction, wants to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling

Part of him is also curious to see if you understand what they're talking about, based solely on his side of the conversation

Or maybe you’re having your own internal discussion with The Operator at the same time

But then he notices the obvious confusion and burning curiosity stirring alongside your fear, and he realizes you really don’t know

She has become inherently tied to you; she will share your decided fate, it repeats

"What? Why? That doesn't make any sense," he jerks in his chains; a futile attempt to free himself

She didn't do anything wrong

He adds in that last part in his head because he doesn’t want you to know what they're talking about

Part of him still insists on sheltering you from as much of this mess as possible

It is simply how things must come to pass

The Operator expresses it with such an air of indifference that it makes Jack's blood boil

"I refuse," Jack hisses

After everything he's done, everything he did to you—he can't be the reason you're expelled

He's caused enough disorder in your life as is

You have no choice, The Operator answers simply

"Give me the choice," Jack insists, a snarl accidentally rippling out of him as his anger bubbles out

And it isn't like him at all to succumb to his anger so easily; he usually prides himself on his ability to remain calm and collected, even in tense situations

But it’s like this whole thing is just grating on his nerves at this point

And it’s even worse since you’re involved in this, too

And that's when it suddenly clicks that this must be one of the many effects of the mark

You have no choice, The Operator repeats, and as the voice fills his head, so does an overwhelming wave of static

Jack chokes back another snarl

His muscles tense, and he grits his teeth, trying to bear the pain threatening to split his head open again

"S-stop—don't hurt him!"

Hearing you cry out for him, he looks up, right as another surge of agony knocks the breath out of him

It's dizzying

The pain pushes and presses up against his skull, like his head's suddenly way, way too crowded and it's on the verge of bursting

Once it's filled his mind, left with no other space to invade, it travels down his nervous system like a flash of electricity, burning every single nerve ending along the way

It's excruciating

The intensity drowns out everything in his surroundings

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he hears you crying out again, but he can't make out the words over the shrill ringing in his ears

He sees you trying to reach for him, sees The Operator's tendrils appear out of nowhere to wrap around you, to hold you back from helping him

Jack hisses out through gritted teeth

His chest heaves with labored breaths as he’s violated from the inside-out

Something cold licks up his thoughts, and then all at once, his memories are forced to surface

Every interaction, every intimate moment shared between the two of you is brought up and laid bare for The Operator to pick through

The steamy exchanges, the longing, the private glances, the first kiss—all of the back and forth, the tangle of emotions and miscommunications that'd been treasured in his memories is yanked from the privacy he'd previously taken for granted

No, no, no—stop—stop doing this—make it stop

Even through the burning pain, the words repeat themselves over and over in his head—as if merely thinking it could stop him

He'd rather be tortured than forced to expose everything like this

It’s beyond violating—he’s tarnishing the intimacy of the memories by being so rough and cruel with them

He doesn’t know how long it lasts—it feels like a short, endless eternity

And then, before he knows it, it’s all over

The agony subsides like it was never there to begin with, and he's left dizzy and nauseous, and torn between wanting to cry and wanting to kill the damn bastard with his bare hands

When he looks up at you, an apology hangs at the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't have time to express it as he notices the fear in your eyes, now more intense than ever, as The Operator's tentacles twist and writhe around your form

One quick snap would be all it takes to kill you

He lurches forward, about to plead, about to say anything to save you, when you open your mouth and speak

"I- I don't know," you say, and he realizes The Operator's in your mind now, having a conversation about God-knows-what

He wants to interrupt, wants to beg him not to hurt you, but at the same time, he's scared doing just that will jeopardize your safety

You chew at your lip, looking at Jack with uncertainty clear on your features

"It's-it's complicated—please, just, don't—"

You cut yourself off with a wince, and when you squirm in Slender’s hold, the tendrils tighten even further around you like he's planning on suffocating you

Jack holds his breath

He doesn't know whether or not he should say something

He's never felt so helpless

You wince again, squeezing your eyes shut

"Yes," you answer, and Jack's just about dying to know the context of the exchange

The following seconds trickling are unbearably slow and agonizing

Your eyes keep darting back and forth uncertainly, looking at him, looking at Slender, then back to him with your brows furrowed in contemplation

Just free her, he pleads internally, just let her go and I won't cause any more trouble

But almost immediately as he thinks it, your breath catches in your throat with a gasp

“N-no—don’t,” he tries to beg, knowing what’s coming, but as soon as he opens his mouth, you scream

Pain contorts your features, your body going rigid before you twist and jerk to try to free yourself

God, he can’t stand it

He can’t stand the sound of your pain, the sight of your visceral gut-wrenching agony

"Stop, stop! Make it stop—I'll do anything!"

Pleas falling on deaf ears, he snarls, jerking forward only to have the chains snap him back into place

Your screaming overrides his humanity—whatever was left of his rational mind evaporates and leaves behind his baser instincts

It turns him into a monster

He doesn’t hear himself snarling and growling over your pained cries

He doesn’t hear the chains groaning in protest, doesn’t register the feeling of them bending with strain as he pulls against them with all of his force

He just needs to make it stop

The metal creaks unpleasantly as he gains an inch, and then another one after that

The fixture restraining him to the wall goes taut, and then, all at once, it finally snaps off

The tentacles disappear as he rushes toward you

He wraps his arms around you, pressing you close to his chest, as if the less distance there is between the both of you, the better he can protect you

The last thing he thinks is that he'd die for you, and then everything goes dark

He wakes up sore and disoriented, which seems to be a recurring theme as of late

Except, this time, instead of being in some shady basement, he's... outside, in the forest

Sun peaks through the canopy of the trees, dappling the grass in bright patches of warmth

With a groan, Jack sits upright

His mask is staring up at him from a bed of wildflowers

He picks it up, fixes it over his face, and looks around

He doesn't immediately recognize this part of the forest, which would worry him—if a more intense kind of panic didn't immediately seize his chest at the realization that you're not anywhere around

He wastes no time standing up, ignoring the protest of his aching muscles, and moving in the direction of the sun

But he only makes it maybe 20 minutes or so when he feels a presence behind him

He tenses, knowing it could only be one person

And, surely enough, when he turns around, he finds Slender facing him expectantly

"Where is she?"

He wastes no time asking the question

Fuck everything else, he just needs to know you're ok

(Y/n) has made a bargain, it informs, and it sets Jack on edge even more so than he already was

She has 24 hours to decide, among other things, whether or not she is willing to become your mate

Jack's throat tightens

Failure to accept, or failure to decide, will result in both of you being expelled from the Safe House

He’s condemned you, Jack thinks, much to his horror; because of this mess he’s created, he’s inadvertently forcing you to either live a life you don’t want, or lose the one you currently cherish so deeply

It's all his fault

Nausea like bile rises in his throat

“Is there… is there any other way around this?” he insists, “Can't you just expel me, and leave her out of this? She didn’t do anything to deserve punishment—she didn't break any rules”

The Operator tilts his head to the side

The mere notion that a compromise is being permitted is an exception not permitted to most. There is no other way

“What about—“ he tries again, balling his fists at his side as he refuses to accept things, “what about if—if things don't pan out," he takes a deep breath, knowing it's a plausible reality, "and we're both kicked out—if we sort things outside of the mansion, and come to some kind of peaceful agreement or understanding together—could she still be allowed in?”

A tense second passes as The Operator considers his question

If, it clarifies, you and (y/n) come to an agreement that guarantees you will not be jeopardizing the sanctuary of the Safe House, I may consider her re-admittance based on a very strictly defined set of terms

The burden on his shoulders lightens somewhat

It isn’t much, but it’s something—something he can cling to if nothing else works

Some kind of hope

You are to remain here until the decision is taken, or the time otherwise reaches its end

And, just like that, he vanishes

For the rest of the morning—or, at least, what he assumes to be morning, based on the position of the sun—Jack wanders aimlessly through the forest

He thinks about the past few hours, how quickly everything spiraled, how it's all his fault

He doesn't know how you could ever manage to forgive him—much less accept being his mate

He runs through hundreds of scenarios in his head, trying to figure out the best course of action that would guarantee you keep your spot at the mansion

Jack's not an idiot; he's always known Slender's had an eye on him, so to speak

Maybe he could strike up his own bargain; becoming a proxy in exchange for your guaranteed residence at the mansion

He'll sell his soul to the devil for you, if he has to

Time trickles by slowly, painfully so

He doesn't know what to do with himself, so he just overthinks, and overthinks, and overthinks some more after that

The sun crests over the midway point in the sky, dips down a few inches, and still, no word from Slender

He sits, leaning his back against a tree, and tries to relax, tries to fall asleep or something to pass the time—but it, of course, is impossible to do so

He digs his fingers into the soft dirt

He feels the earth give way beneath his nails, and it reminds him of the feeling of tearing organs from a body

He pulls out a patch of grass, sprinkles it around him, repeats the motion

He’s ripped out maybe half a dozen handfuls when he feels that presence in front of him again

He looks up, and sees The Operator looking down at him

You are free to return to the mansion

It’s all he says before disappearing

The demon’s heart leaps up his throat

He stands, and starts making his way toward what he can only guess to be the mansion’s general direction

He doesn’t know why the damn bastard couldn’t have just teleported him there, or why he was forced to wait in this forest, but none of that matters right now

All that matters is he has the chance to see you again, to make sure you’re ok

It takes him longer than he would’ve liked to make it, but a few hours into his trek, he spots that familiar shape of the large building just up ahead

He picks up the pace, nearly jogging the rest of the way

He doesn’t wait a moment longer to make it to your room

As soon as he reaches it and makes it to your room, he notices that your door’s wide open, but you’re not inside

He takes in a slow, steadying breath

His room

He should check his own room; maybe you figured it’d be better to meet him there

After everything that’s been said and done, even despite Slender’s verdict, he doesn’t want to get his hopes crushed

Which is why he keeps his expectations exceptionally low as he beelines it to his room

And after everything that’s happened up until this point, it almost doesn’t even feel real when he sees you there; curled up in his bed, your eyes closed and your breathing slow and steady with his pillow hugged to your chest

He walks up to the bed, careful to not wake you

But either you weren’t sleeping, or you weren’t in a very deep sleep, because you immediately open your eyes when he gets to the edge of the bed

“…Hey,” you say, softly, your voice gentle, with a faint smile on your lips

“Hey,” he answers

You move over a few inches to make space for him, then pat the empty space next to you

He’s, admittedly, somewhat hesitant, somewhat nervous to accept the offer

But when he does, and when you cuddle up next to him, and he can hold you in his arms again so that nothing could hurt you, he finally relaxes around you

It wasn’t a secret that the hybrid had a thing for you

But now you knew; knew how badly he wanted you, knew the lengths he’d go to please you, to make you his

Maybe he’s not so hopeless after all, he thinks

Maybe, just maybe, things are going to be ok

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #a demon’s ache #eyeless jack #eyeless Jack x reader #crp #Crp ej

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wolfgirlandfarmboy · 2 months

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Nana has been taking a lot of wins recently when it comes to flirting with her boyfriend. It was about time I drew Jack finally getting a W.

Anyways, he really said "That's a lotta shit talkin' for someone in make out distance".

[Comic description: Four panels showing Jack and Nana. Jack is slightly taller, with medium dark skin, yellow eyes, dark hair held back in a ponytail by a red ribbon, and a green shirt with a black collar. Nana is a wolf girl with dark skin, pale eyes, pointed ears, and curly reddish brown hair slightly lighter than Jack’s

In the first, Nana leans towards Jack with her lips puckered, and Jack sweats slightly as he says, ‘Ah! U-Uhm…’ In the next panel, Nana opens her eyes slightly and says, ‘Aww...Seems my Sunflower’s too nervous to give me a kiss.’ The panel is split, and the other side shows Jack’s eyes with a green lightning effect coming out from his pupils, which continue to glow green. In the third panel, he leans forward to kiss her, and a scene in the corner shows her purring and saying ‘Mm’ as they kiss. In the last panel, a close-up shows their lips touching with their tongues showing, and the rest of the panel shows Jack holding Nana’s face in his palms as she purrs. Heart shapes have appeared in her eyes. He says, ‘Not nervous...I just didn’t know where to start.’]

#my art #comic #jack #nana

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fazedlight · 4 months

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Dread (rewriting of Lena’s phantom ordeal in Fear Knot)

Coolant leak error?, Lena thought, reading the screen. “Let me see if the hardware needs repairing,” she said, unfastening her seatbelt and passing Nia to hop onto the elevator.

Her first hint that something was wrong was on the floor of the machine room. As she stepped over a puddle, her mind caught on something. The floor was wet - not with neon green coolant, but water, in a part of the ship where no water piping ran.

She stepped towards one of the wheels on the wall, checking that the flow was open, that the gauge showed appropriate pressure. There’s no leak, Lena thought, confused. Then what’s causing the-

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

Lena spun around, eyes darting to the familiar voice, lost over decades. A pale dead figure, covered in water and kelp, stared back at her - with cold, soulless eyes that sunk back into her skull. “Mother?” Lena said, trembling.

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

“I-” Lena was struggling to breathe, as her mother stepped closer, a heavy sloshing of her dress running across the ground. “I- I don’t know why-”

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, a small part of her mind screaming this isn’t real, but dread flooded the thought out. “I didn’t want- I just couldn’t move-”

But to Lena’s horror, her mother shifted - a translucent creature emerging from a dead woman's body, made of water and shimmers of light. A creature, Lena thought, her eyes wide. An alien creature of some sort.

She ran.

She darted around the being as its rumbling snarl reverberated through the walls. Lena yanked the door open, bolting down the hall, trying to shake off the unexpected grief of seeing her mother again. A kelpie? A shapeshifter of some sort, her mind thought, racing towards the mainroom. “I need help,” Lena yelled into the comms, yanking a second door open, “I need-”

No, Lena’s mind screamed, coming across the surreal scene before her. Please, no…

Brainy. Alex. J’onn. Kelly. All lay dead before her.

Lena halted as horror flooded through her, turning to Nia’s body, which glimmered in silver. “Nia?” Lena whispered, watching as a million sparks seemed to dance along her skin, from her spot slumped over on the control panel. Lena’s eyes widened. Those aren’t-

A cloud of silver withdrew from Nia’s body, flowing to the center of the control room, buzzing and humming in a familiar pattern, as a voice emerged. “Why did you kill me, Lena?”

“Jack?” Lena gasped.

The bots began to take shape in front of her, a man’s familiar face forming, cast in metal rather than human flesh. “Why did you kill me?”

“Jack, I- I didn’t-” Lena said, overwhelming nausea climbing up her throat. “I didn’t want- there was no other choice-”

“Why did you kill me, Lena?”

The kelpie, Lena’s mind screamed. The shapeshifter. It’s not him. He’s not real-

“Come with me, Lena,” Jack said, as his body began to decompose again, the swarm beginning to float in her direction.

No! Lena’s mind screamed, as she turned again on her heel, fleeing towards the backrooms of the ship. Everyone’s dead, everyone’s dead-

Is this how it ends?, she thought as she ran, knowing she could never outrun the nanobots, or the kelpie, or whatever the fuck this creature was. We all die. Kara is lost forever. This can’t be happening-

She found herself ducking into the medbay, scouring the room for anything she could use as a weapon, anything she could use to kill the creature. Kelpies are a myth, she thought to herself, but that brought her little comfort. Shapeshifters were quite real, and this one was going through each member of the ship.

Lena closed her eyes, trying - and failing - to get composure. It’s my fault, she thought, her mind flashing memories of her mother in the lake, of Jack’s begging voice. Did they blame me? Were they angry? Were their last thoughts-

“Why did you let me get sent to the Phantom Zone, Lena?”

Chills ran down Lena’s spine, as the familiar blonde’s voice washed over her. Kara, she thought, feeling her heart hammering through her chest. I can’t save you, I can’t save you… “I’m so sorry,” Lena sobbed.

“You want me in the Phantom Zone.”

“I don’t!” Lena shouted, turning to the blonde before her. Pallid and soulless eyes stared back at her - somehow indifferent, yet menacing. Lena shook, holding back tears. But I’ll never be able to rescue you, not with everyone…

“You hate me,” said the super as she approached, black veins growing on her face. “You despise me.”

“I love you, Kara,” Lena whispered. The creature was going to kill her. She would never be able to say the words to the real Kara. But there was nothing left.

Kara stepped closer to her, again, and again. Lena held back her sobs as Kara’s eyes turned red. This is how it ends, she thought. I’m never going to see you again. Her worst nightmare had become her reality.

Nightmare…

Lena’s brow furrowed as Kara stepped closer. I didn’t kill my mother, she thought to herself, looking up at the kryptonian again. There wasn’t a way for me to save Jack, she thought to herself.

Kara finally reached Lena, standing toe to toe as her eyes continued to burn. You’re a phantom, Lena realized. Praying on my fears… What had J’onn said? One’s deepest dread.

Like fearing that your loved ones were lost.

And that it was your fault.

Kelly said to focus on what’s real, Lena thought to herself. Things I can see, touch, hear… Lena’s mind scraped at the motor oil scent around her, wandering to the Tower itself, to the cool air and martian steel that surrounded her as Kara sneered back.

But Lena shrugged it off as she continued to stare at the angry super, looking into the still-burning eyes. Lena knew what was most real.

“I love you,” Lena said, raising her hand to doppelganger, caressing along her jawline. “I love you, and I’m going to get you back.”

Kara’s eyes dimmed, and the world flashed white.

-----------

Lena gasped as her eyes opened, finding herself back in the control room. Shifting in her seat, her eyes darted around the room, feeling a flood of relief as she saw the others do the same. “This is real,” J’onn shouted to the room. “You are free of the phantom's powers!” Lena wanted to cry in relief.

“Well that sucked,” Nia said, a shaky smile thrown in Lena’s direction. “What did you see?”

Lena turned back to her controls. It’s time to bring Kara home. “A kelpie,” she said quietly, her mind drifting to the final preparation needed for the sun bomb. “I’m afraid of drowning.”

#supercorp #mel writes ficlets

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officialah · 8 months

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Achievement Hunter is changing and we're taking you with us

As you may have noticed, Achievement Hunter has gone through a number of changes this year. We’ve grown a bit smaller as our cast has moved on to work on exciting new ventures, including Inside Gaming and VTubing. Today, we are pleased to announce the launch of Dogbark, a new content group featuring Michael Jones, Alfredo Diaz, Trevor Collins, and Joe Lee.

Rooster Teeth is at its best when employees have been given the opportunity to pursue new creative passions. Fifteen years ago, this meant giving Geoff the ability to create Achievement Hunter. And today, this means letting the Achievement Hunter cast move on to new creative projects.

Over the last few years, this has allowed our cast to put time into creating F**kface, ANMA, Red Web, Face Jam, and more. More recently, Jack and BK have put their efforts into streaming at Inside Gaming, Lindsay has begun exploring Vtubing as Ruby, and Ky is producing multiple projects, including some of those listed above.

With all of our new focuses, this means we will not be actively creating content for the Achievement Hunter channel. Let’s Play will also look a little bit different moving forward, but we can assure you that it’s not going anywhere, and it’s in great hands.

But why Dogbark, and not just new shows under the Achievement Hunter banner? At this point in our creative careers, we have grown as both people and as entertainers. Much like how early Achievement Hunter evolved from video game guides to Let’s Plays, we’re looking to take Dogbark in a bold new direction that is more heavily focused on improv and sketch comedy. It’s new. It’s fun. It’s weird. And it’s such a departure from what Achievement Hunter has been that we feel Dogbark is truly its own thing.

We’re very excited to share these projects with all of you, and we really do hope you’ll enjoy all the new content we have in store. Through the years, we’ve reached heights we never thought possible–from Haunter to the Hardcore series, from RTX Panels to AH Live Tours. Whether you joined us back in 2008 or 2023, we couldn’t have done this without you. We have been met with so much support as we’ve grown and changed over the years, and we can’t thank you enough for that.

We know this news might be shocking and saddening for you. It’s bittersweet. On one hand, we’re saying “See you later” to a truly indescribable brand. On the other, we’re getting to pursue new passions, explore, test ourselves as creators, and that’s an incredibly exciting experience. It’s hard to do the same thing for our whole lives, and we shouldn’t have to. But, just because we’re not a part of AH anymore doesn’t mean that we didn’t appreciate the time spent there, or with you.

It’s okay to be sad; it’s okay to take time to process. After, when you’re ready, come join us over at Inside Gaming, F**kface, RWBY’s Twitch, Dogbark, Red Web, Face Jam, ANMA, and So…Alright. We’ll be waiting for you.

Love,

-AH

To watch our full video on this, check out this link: https://youtu.be/YVgACDwlgq0 To learn more about our future projects, check out the links below.

Dogbark - www.youtube.com/@dogbarkshow || /www.instagram.com/dogbarkshow/

F**kface - www.youtube.com/@fckfacepod || twitter.com/FuckFacePod

Inside Gaming -www.twitch.tv/roosterteeth || www.youtube.com/@insidegaming

RWBY Twitch - www.twitch.tv/rwby_vt

We’ve anticipated your questions and have created an FAQ below that will hopefully provide answers.

Where are [insert the AH person you are looking for] going?

Honestly, nowhere. They’re still here at Rooster Teeth, but are jumping into new exciting opportunities that bring them joy and passion.Geoff and Gavin are focusing on F**kface, Jack and BK are streaming over with Inside Gaming, Lindsay is launching a RWBY Vtubing Twitch, and Ky is producing these projects. Michael, Trevor, Alfredo, and Joe are excited to announce their new project, Dogbark, which launches 10/2.

Does this mean AH content is going away?

Nope. It’ll exist in perpetuity online. Both on Rooster Teeth Site and Apps as well as the AH YouTube channel.

Will AH ever return?

Think of it like your favorite band going on hiatus. We don’t want to close the door completely and turn off all the lights. There’s always the chance that One Direction will come back.

Is Let’s Play content and channel going away?

Also nope! But stay tuned, you might recognize who will start showing up (and reshowing up) there.

#achievement hunter #roosterteeth #i just want to say #that i love all of you so much - shelby #thank you #<3

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thedevilrisen · 6 months

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Trust Me Mate

Jack Hughes x Y/N

Description: Based on the song 'Trust me mate' by Dean Lewis.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say Hi if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: Alcohol, Throwing up - I think that's it ( let me know if I missed more.)

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

you’re pulling out your cigarette

you bring it up toward your lips

you breathe and push the smoke away just like you do with all your friends

I rapped my knuckles against the door three times, underneath the gold 126 plaque helping anyone unknown find this apartment. I wasn’t unknown though, I’ve been here hundreds of times, walked up the 13 flights of stairs for three months straight when the elevator broke to get here. The dull thud of footsteps alerted me to the fact that you were coming to the door. The gentle click of the lock and opening of the door as far as the chain allowed me to get my first glimpse of her face in a month.

“Can you let me in please.” I asked. She shut the door, I heard the slide of the chain bolt and then the door opened fully revealing her.

“Jack. What are you doing here?” she whispered exasperated, moving to the side to let me into her dark apartment.

“I haven’t heard from you in a month Y/N.” I spoke examining her apartment as we walked further in, “I’ve been worried about you.”

“Well I’m fine Jack. Now if that’s all you’ve come to do, you can leave.” she concluded. Crossing her arms across her chest. Why are you self-conscious around me, Y/N? I thought.

“I left my good water bottle in your room the last time I was here. I’m just going to go get it.” I whispered, looking down as I made my way down the hallway to her room.

your room is messy and full of clothes

the curtains drawn, the Windows closed.

when did the person that i loved turn into someone i don't know

Stepping over clothes, and empty alcohol bottles strewn across the room I made my way to the wooden dresser where my water bottle is perched on the corner. All the photos that normally sit proudly on top of the dresser drawers were laid face down, draws half opened with clothes half falling out of some and an overflowing hamper basket that looks like it has a month's worth of laundry piled in it. Dust had piled on the window sills and the metal slats of the blinds.

“Jack, stop snooping!” she shouted, voice wavering, tears brimming her eyes. “Get your water bottle and go!”

“Y/N..” I mumbled

i say it's time we have to talk

“No Jack!” she shouted again, silent tears running down her cheek as she walked out of her room. “We don’t need to!”

you make a move towards the door and you deny there's anything to hide or answer for

you say, ‘I don't don't want you in my place just get the fuck out of my face’

“No Y/N! I’m not leaving you like this!” I yelled back, stepping back and running a hand down my face.

“Please Jack, just leave me be. I’m fine I promise.” she begged, hands clasped at her chest.

“Fine.” I grit out through my teeth, reaching for the door. “Bye Y/N.”

“Bye!” she returned angrily.

but I won't give up so easy 'cause I know you'd do the same

DING. The elevator doors opened and I walked in, pressing the 13 and watching as the doors closed and the numbers on the screen above the panel changed, counting as they went up, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. The doors hummed as they opened letting me walk down the all too familiar hallway, patting my back pocket to make sure I brought the spare key I had to her apartment with me just in case she wouldn’t let me in, my other hand had the paper handles of a shopping bag filled with goodies dangling from my fingers.

126, the gleaming numbers shone back at me, my left hand raising to the door and hitting my knuckles against the wood three times. Just like always. Waiting for a minute or so before knocking again. Anxiously waiting on a response as the minutes passed by, I continued staring at the gilded numbers. “Fuck this.” I mumbled, reaching around and pulling the silver key out of my back pocket and fumbling to slot it into the lock. CLICK. “Success!” I whispered, pushing the door open tentatively, taking a step inside the still darkened apartment. “Y/N?” I questioned into the eerie silence. “I know you didn’t want me here, but I can’t leave you like this. Y/N?” Moving toward her room and opening the door, light was coming from the bathroom along with sounds of gut-wrenching sobs and heaving. Dropping the bag I had clutched in my hand and rushing to the door, pushing it open and reclining at the sight before me. Y/N curled up on the cold tile floor of the shower, sobbing and dry heaving a bottle of whiskey knocked over and discarded to her right.

But trust me mate you've got this you always were the strongest but I'm not gonna promise that this won't hurt

you were lying in the bathroom we almost thought we lost you

cause tryna numb the pain only makes it worse

I'm not giving up on you.

“J-Jack, I-i.. leave please.” she sobbed weakly. Heart breaking I moved to where she sat and slid down the wall to her height.

“I can’t do that Y/N.” I mumbled, bringing her shaking form into my arms. Hand rubbing soothingly up and down her back as she sniffled.

“Why Jack!” she cried sitting up, eyes red and puffy, pupils blown.

“Because I love you Y/N.” I spoke calmly.

“No, you don’t, you can’t love someone like me.” she wailed.

“Yes I can. I truly love and want to help you, but I need to know what’s wrong.”

“Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“We can do whatever you want.”

And if it gets worst

before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall cause i won't let you

And if it gets worst

Before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall

#risen rambles :d #jack hughes blurb #jamie drysdale x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes

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longwuzhere · 10 months

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Here are some cool Easter eggs that I found the newest My Adventures with Superman episode, "My Interview with Superman" Links to my first two easter egg posts for episode 1 and 2 are here and here.

Link to my episode 4 easter egg post is here

Link to my episode 5 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 6 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 7 easter eggs post is here and here

Link to my episode 8 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 9 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 10 easter eggs post is here SPOILERS if you have not seen the episode of course:

We start off the episode with an Amazo Tech blimp crashing into a building in Metropolis

You don't see a lot of blimps in Metropolis. Gotham is usually the one with a lot of blimps flying around. If you saw the episode on Adult Swim when it premiered on air you'll know that the next episode involved Professor Anthony Ivo and Amazo Tech. Throughout the previous episodes and this one, the Amazo Tech brand is shown to set up next week's episode. After the scene we go to a break in at Stryker's Island (more on that location later) as we see one of the villains for the episode Mist...

and one of his partners...

Rough House who are trying to break out...

Shiobhan McDougal. If you know your Superman comics, you'll also know here as Silver Banshee.

Kyle/Mist is a VERY old DC supervillain from the 1940s who first appeared in Adventure Comics #47 (1941) as the arch villain to Starman. Mist's design in the comics is RADICALLY different from the show.

MAwS modernized Mist's design compared to here in these comics panels (W: Alfred Bester, P&I: Jack Burnley, C: Raymond Perry, L: Betty Bentley). In the comic Mist's power allows him to turn his body into a gaseous form thus the name. MAwS uses Mist as someone who can turn himself and objects invisible (lowkey when Mist showed up I was like "is that Luminus from Superman the Animated Series?") Fun fact in the comic, we don't know what Mist's last name is. All we know is that his name is Kyle and in the show that is what Rough House calls him on accident but at least he has a last name, McDougal in MAwS.

Rough House makes his first appearance in Adventures of Superman #544 (1997) (W: Karl Kesel, P: Stuart Immonen, I: José Marzán Jr., C: Glenn Whitmore & Digital Chameleon, L: Albert DeGuzman) where we see him rip open a door with his bear hands as a member of Intergang (more on them later).

Siobhan McDougal aka Silver Banshee makes her first appearance here in Action Comics 595 (cover by John Byrne). In the comics Silver Banshee's powers are a lot different than how MAwS does it. Comics Silver Banshee has the Banshee Curse giving her powers like flight, super strength, a death stare, and of course her signature thing, the Death Wail, a sonic scream that can knock someone into a coma or it outright kills them. The version in the show gives Silver Banshee her signature sound manipulation powers through a mask...

which kind of invokes her comic counterpart's skull face design.

Mist and Rough House break into Stryker's Island to free Mist's sister Silver Banshee (in the comics Mist and Silver Banshee have no familial connection). Stryker's Island makes its first appearance in Superman #9 (1987) (W&P: John Byrne, I: Karl Kesel, C: Tom Ziuko, L: John Costanza) where Joker arrives in Metropolis to challenge Superman. Stryker's Island is supposed to be a stand in for Riker's Island in New York even though there is a Riker's Island in the DC Universe because Metropolis is often a reflection of New York City.

The next Easter egg is the scene after where Lois name drops Waid's Cafe as a reference to...

Mark Waid, one the best writers in the comic book industry. In terms of DC work, you might recognize his writing credit on Flash with artist, Brian Augustyn (we miss you Brian), Kingdom Come with painter, Alex Ross, and Superman Birthright with artist, Leinil Yu (highly recommend checking out all three titles). He's also currently writing for Batman/Superman: Worlds Finest with artist Dan Mora, which I also HIGHLY recommend reading. Fantastic writer, super nice person if you ever meet him at a convention.

Later, Jimmy is heard screaming "back you monsters" and we see some more of the Daily Planet staff...

From left to right its Cat Grant (doing the anime high society lady laugh), who runs the celebrity and gossip side of the paper, Steve Lombard, who reports on sports, and Ronnie Troupe, the investigative journalist on the team. Their names were mentioned in the previous episode after taking Lois, Jimmy, and Clark's credit for the Superman piece.

Cat Grant make her first appearance here in the Adventures of Superman #424 (1987) (W: Marv Wolfman, P: Jerry Ordway, I: Mike Machlan, C: Tom Ziuko, L: John Costanza) as a potential love interest to Clark to shake up the Clark-Lois-Superman dynamic. You might've seen her in the live action CW Supergirl show. Like in MAwS, in the comics Cat does the gossip columns writing for the Daily Planet.

Steve Lombard makes his first appearance in Superman #264 (1973) (W: Cary Bates, P: Curt Swan, I: Murphy Anderson) as a foil to Clark Kent. Steve acts very brash and rude to contrast Clark's mild manner and friendly demeanor. Later iterations of Steve give him the mustache that becomes part of his signature design.

In MAwS, Ronnie Troupe is a gender swap of Ron Troupe in the comics who makes his first appearance in the Adventures of Superman #480 (1991) (this page specifically, W: Jerry Ordway, P: Tom Grummett, I: Denis Rodier, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: Albert DeGuzman). Like his MAwS counterpart, Ron is an investigative journalist and very level headed. He was the first to break the story about Cyborg Superman meeting the then PoTUS, Bill Clinton.

A news report on TV in the Daily Planet shows Bethany Snow of Channel 52 News reporting about the break out in Stryker's Island. The logo for Channel 52 News reminds me very much DC's 2005 logo.

As for Bethany Snow and Channel 52 News, Bethany made her first appearance in the New Teen Titans #22 (1982) (W: Marv Wolfman, P: George Perez, I: Romeo Tanghal, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda) as a news reporter and follower of the Brother Blood cult.

Later iterations and retcons had Bethany Snow as just a reporter where she does the Channel 52 news in the back end of DC comic titles in 2013.

Freddie E. Williams II is the artist for these as Channel 52 was way to let readers know what is happening in other DC titles that they might want to check out with other DC characters reporters accompanying Bethany as seen in the promotional art with Vartox, Ambush Bug, and Calendar Man. Obviously MAwS redesigned Bethany Snow but they at least kept her occupation.

A quick one but we see Lois call Clark "Smallville" a nickname that has been used in various media involving Clark and Lois.

After news report on TV, we cut to Siobhan, Kyle, and Rough House in their hide out where they name drop their group name, Intergang.

In the comics and other media, Intergang is a world wide crime syndicate who is supplied with powerful high tech weaponry from the evil New Gods of Apocalypse, if you know your DC universe, that is everyone is Darkseid's circle. Intergang first appeared in Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen #133 (1970) created by LEGENDARY artist Jack Kirby.

Here in Forever People #1 (1971) (W&P: Jack Kirby, I: Vince Coletta, L: John Costanza), you can see they have direct contact with Darkseid. Originally led by Morgan Edge, later versions of Intergang had leadership change from Joe Danton to Max Danner. Post-crisis, Intergang is led by Bruno Mannheim (the Intergang boss that I am familiar with), his father Moxie Mannheim would later lead Intergang. Current continuity in DC has Bruno still be the leader of Intergang.

In the episode we learn that MAwS version of Intergang is very small time. Siobhan, Kyle, and Rough House rob convenience stores and make smash and grab runs. But maybe MAwS will move Intergang in the criminal syndicate direction in the future who knows.

After the Intergang scene we cut to Lois, Jimmy and Clark walking up to the front of Stryker's and Jimmy mentions something interesting about convincing the warden to spill on the government's... (read Jimmys quote in the screenshot to complete the sentence)

The term meta-human has its roots in the DC Universe if you did not know! The term was first used here in Invasion #1 (1988) (W: Keith Giffen and Bill Mantlo, P: Todd McFarlane, I: P. Craig Russell, C: Carl Gafford, L: Gaspar Saladino)

In the comic, the Dominators discover that certain humans have what is known as the meta-gene which grants them powers when under a lot of duress and so to test this they rounded up a group of humans and experimented on them with only 6 surviving who gained powers. The Dominators conclude that the human population must be eliminated or there will be a rise in meta-humans on Earth.

How does the government, according to Jimmy, connect to all this. is a possible nod to one of the plot points in Doomsday Clock where the idea that 90% of DC's meta-humans are from the US and they have been engineered by the government. This conspiracy, in the comic is known as the Superman Theory.

This here is one part of the back matter you can read at the end of Doomsday Clock # 5 (2018) (W: Geoff Johns, P&I: Gary Frank, C: Brad Anderson, Back Matter Design: Amie Brockway-Metcalf). Later the trio, specifically Lois, steals the warden's ID badge and were able to access where Siobhan was kept. On the ID the warden's name is Agatha Zorbatos, who's first appearance in the comics was in Batman #23.4 (2013), as the warden of Blackgate Penitentiary in Gotham

Obviously her design in the comic is drastically different from how she looks in the show. The one on your right is from Batman Eternal #4 (2014) (Story: Scott Snyder & James Tynion IV, Script: John Layman, Consulting Writers: Tim Seeley & Ray Fawkes, P: Dustin Nguyen (my favorite comic book artist of all time), I: Derek Fridolfs, C: John Kalisz, L: Rob Leigh).

At the climax of the episode we see more of the alien crystal that Superman encountered last episode from the tech that MAwS Intergang used and it strangely looked familiar. I wouldn't be surprised if the animation team were fans of Neon Genesis Evangelion especially with the way the robots were designed in the first part of episode one and here how the crystal reshapes itself like the angel Ramiel. Also since I'm at my 30 image limit here and I can't post anymore, I also want to point out that the poster that Siobhan has in her cell was a cat with the words "Believe it" over its head I like to believe that is a Naruto reference because the dub has Naruto say "believe it" all the time. I guess I'm gonna be doing the Easter Eggs and references for each episode so expect this to be a weekly thing. I hope you all enjoy my doing this If you made it down here and want to see my first two easter eggs and reference posts for episodes one and two are here and here.

My post of episode three's easter eggs is here

My post of episode five's easter eggs is here

My post of episode six's easter eggs is here

My post of episode seven's easter eggs is here and here

My post of episode eight's easter eggs is here

My post of episode nine's easter eggs is here

My post of episode ten's easter eggs is here

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demeterdefence · 2 months

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this was bugging me too much not to comment on it, like the sheer laziness and use of pngs in rachel's comic has been an ONGOING issue for AGES

anyways so episode 135 we've got the olympians on a zoom call for some reason (and this is itself is a mess, rachel literally only makes zeus move even slightly for like six panels, it's just copy / paste over and over)

but when i was making my last post i noticed that the way half the gods in the audience for episode 174 are drawn is exactly the same as this zoom call.

start with ares for example, you've got episode 135:

and then episode 174

IT'S LITERALLY THE SAME

here's hestia and athena in episode 135:

and here's hestia and athena in episode 174

like??? rachel just drew the fucking attorney in front of hestia to hide the copy paste, and she threw a jacked sweater on athena but her COLLAR IS STILL THE SAME. she even still has the owl!!!

here's artemis in 135

aaand here's artemis in 174

it's a tinier bit harder to see because she's so small, but she's the original drawing from 135, shrunk and given mild edits. ironically, she gets the most edits of everyone despite being the smallest lmao

like rachel couldn't even be bothered to draw them individually? she used a stock image for the background and just threw some pngs of her characters??? and she's the face of webtoons? this is MAX laziness and it's not even sad it's just infuriating. you have a team of HOW many people and you've been pulling this for years. i know we've seen numerous other examples of pngs being reused and rachel using emojis for her art, but like every day there's another can of worms to uncover here and the worms are rotten.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lo critical #literally writing the first post i was like wait a minute ... this looks awfully familiar #and then i looked at ares and shouted THE ZOOM CALL #also if u look closely at the faces behind ares in the courtroom they are copypasted lmao #zero effort 0/10 you didn't even try at all

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bakiuwu · 5 months

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This chapter is fucjing me up bad, he started off the convo, bringing up how his abilities caught up to his body. It's like he was trying to impress yujiro. Like a kid trying to show off to their parent, then for yujiro to acknowledge him, cause he's able to tell by how he holds himself. Then, to tell him it's not perfect, only to follow it up with "but you're getting there"......I can't do this.

And look how he looks at him......omg, it like he's shocked that yujiro sees his growth......I can't do this

It is so werid seeing yujiro being.....kind? to Jack epically since after what happen between the two of them after baki and Jack's fight, and even after that, he doesn't seem to have anything to say to him or about him. Especially during the pickle arc, where he calls jack a pathetic loser along with evryone else, when everyone broke in to meet pickle( he didnt even bat an eye at him)

Yujiro acts like he only has one child and that child being baki. Even when Tokugawa brings up retsu,katsumi, and Jack's fight with pickle, saying how he doesn't see how baki could win if thoes 3 lost to pickl. Yujiro responded saying "thoes 3 have nothing to do with baki," then saying baki has his blood and that he's a Hanma. Then, when Tokugawa says, (Jack also has your blood. He just brushed it off saying "hes not pure." So, seeing him be so........normal to him while showing dislikement towards him is crazy

Yujiro brings up a quote from Musashi: "In Confrontation, you have to postion yourself above your enemy Musashi". He brings up how Jack getting taller is a shortcut of being over his enemies

look at his expression. He looks hurt. Even tho he hates yujiro, he still cares about his opinion. For him to repeat what yujiro said, then to ask, "Do you dislike it?" He sounds like a kid, a kid who cares deeply about his parent opinion, a kid who doesn't want to disappoint his father.....his facial expression....his body language. It looks like he slowed down a bit while walking like he needed a minute to register what yujiro just said to him.

It's not far off to say Jack cares about yujiro opinions about him to some degree. When Jack lost to pickle for a second time, he could only think of the last words yujiro spoke to him

"Resonate in his heart" i remember reading tha for the first time and wanting to die omg, but seeing him reacted like this isn't surprising, it's very clear how effective yujiros' words are towards him, and how even if trys to not care about yujiro opinion of him, a part of him deeply cares. Every child wants the approval of their parents even if they hate them.

After Jack asks him if he dislikes it, yujiro says, "I can't bring myself to" which made me threw myself against the wall.....LIKE I JUST CANT AND WHATS MAKES THIS WORST...

IS JACK FACE,HE WAS PROBABLY WAITING FOR YUJIRO TO RIP INTO HIM ABOUT HIM GETTING TALLER AND HIS WHOLE FIGHTING STLYE OVER ALL BUT NO

Yujiro beings to.....praise Jack......omfg itagaki I swear to go-, saying that what's he's doing isn't easy, how he dealt with humiliation and pain. HOW HE IS THE ONLY MAN WHO HAVE EVER STEP HIS FOOT INTO THE TURE WORLD OF BITTING, THIS IS SO BITTERSWEET BUT FINALLY HES GETTING HIS FOLLOWERS HATE THAG YUJIRO IS THE ONE GIVING HIM PRIASE.....but for him to say he has a rare purity.....oh I'm sick....like.....WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME

..........this panel killed me......its so......idk even know man, the way yujiro looks at Jack cause he stop walking but the way hes looking at him......his eyes are so soft......, then Jack....my baby Jack, my sweet baby......I can tell that he's trying to keep his composure.......the way he's noting even looking at yujiro, cause he knows of he looks at him.....he'll break out In tears.....oh my God and what says "....thats the first time....you've ever complimented me".........itagaki when I catch you......ow

Idk why, but him saying that really fucks my heart so bad......i dont even know what to say I'm so fucking sad right now. No one ever gives itagaki credit for how good of a writer he is, mans is able to yank your heart strings out if he wants, This is probably my favorite chapter....the mood of it is so....calm and idk, but If this was able to fuck me up bad, just imagine how I'm be when more Jack lore come out

But once again, I'm just rambling my ass off . Also, God, im so dramatic😭

#baki the grappler #baki dou #son of ogre #baki hanma #yujiro hanma #jack hanma #im going crazy #bakiuwu random rambling

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mariacrow · 10 months

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❉ TFP Ratchet x reader ❉

It’s been some time since problems at home were keeping you away from it. You would stay in the base for days, weeks… Sleep on the couch and barely eat. When you wouldn’t go out to get food, Miko, Jack or Raf would bring some of their home cooking or just pick up something on their way to the base. Everyone is concerned for you… Especially Ratchet.

1st person

female reader

angst and fluff

takes place in the TFP base

bad mood, concern, crying, comfort

suggestive relationship between Ratchet and the reader

I overslept today, again… As usual, I couldn’t sleep so I stayed up until 2 or 3 in the morning, I can’t even remember… I was watching TV on the couch or just scrolling through my phone. I woke up at around 11:30am.

“Morning, sleepy head.” Ratchet said, working since early hours. He needs only a couple of hours of stasis to rest and go back to work. Last night he was still up when I went to sleep.

“Good morning…” I said in a groggy voice while going down the stairs, heading to the bathrooms to do my morning routine. Thankfully this base belonged to the military so it has bathrooms.

Bulkhead walked past me, seeing I’m not in the mood for morning talk. Then he approached Ratchet.

“She bunked in here again, huh?” he asked.

“Again.” Ratchet confirmed, sounding more concerned than irritated. Not getting his eyes off the computer and control panel.

“I kinda worry about her man…” Bulkhead said, looking at my direction.

“We all worry.” Ratchet said.

“You know she only talks to you, right? As in talk talk. THE talk.”

“Yes, I know, Bulkhead.” Ratchet sighed, “But this is not something she’d open up so easily about. Now can you let me work in peace? Please.” he wasn’t irritated by Bulk, it was the concern that wouldn’t leave his head keeping him away from concentration.

Bulkhead nodded, “I’ll go on patrol.” he said before he transformed and left the base.

“Very wise.” Ratchet said.

I went back to the little cozy human corner we made, sitting on the couch, checking my phone. No sounds coming from me except yawning.

“You need to eat.” Ratchet said.

“I’m not hungry…”

“Y/N, it is not healthy for your organism.”

“You’re a robot medic, for robots, not humans… If I’m not hungry, I don’t eat.”

Ratchet sighed in irritation, “For Primus’ sake. Bumblebee and Rafael will be here soon with some food and drinks.”

I didn’t respond to that.

“…Y/N. Come here.” he said as he stopped working, looking at me.

I sighed and left my phone, barely getting myself to stand up, dragging my feet to his working area. Leaning against the metal fence, keeping my head bowed. He was right at my eye level but I had no courage to look him in the optics.

“Look at me.” he said calmly, in a quiet and soft manner.

I looked slightly to the side.

“Y/N, look at me. Please…” I’ve never heard him talk like this before…

I finally looked into his optics like a sad puppy.

“What?” was the only word that I could muster.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong, I can help you.”

“You can’t help me-“

“I can. WE can. You just need to talk to us. I know you find it difficult to open up but now it is time. If you don’t want to talk to them, at least talk to me… I am your guardian.” he interrupted.

“You never wanted to admit you’re my guardian-“

“Well I am!” he interrupted again, he sounded kinda proud. “Perhaps I never wanted to say it in front of others because… I guess I just.. I don’t know…”

That made my heart ache… “It’s okay, Ratchet… I understand…”

“No, no it is not okay. I am here to protect you. I am here for you.”

I’ve never heard him speak like that… It made my face expression soften up. Everything has been piling up lately and this was my breaking point… I hid my face in my hands as I started quietly crying…

“I’m sorry, Ratchet… I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to hide anything from you, I just-…” I sobbed.

He didn’t really know how to react. He isn’t good at this, at comforting. But he could feel his spark ache… He might be a grumpy old medic but he isn’t sparkless…

He carefully picked me up, gently holding me in his servos as he brought me to his chassis. I couldn’t help but cling onto him like a baby koala, hiding in the crook of his neck while quietly sobbing.

“Don’t cry… Please, don’t cry…” he said, gently rubbing my back, “Everything is going to be alright… I’m here for you. All of us are here for you. I’ve heard it’s difficult at home…”

I nodded, “Yeah…” whimpering as I was trying to calm down.

“You can stay here as much as you’d like, sweetheart. You’re more than welcomed.”

I nodded again, clinging onto him harder.

“Shhh… It’s alright… I’m not going anywhere…”

“Th-thank you, Ratchet…” I stuttered due to my unstable breathing.

“But promise me one thing, sweetums.”

“Yeah..? Wh-what is it..?” I looked up at him as he looked down at me, bringing me closer to his face plate.

“Eat and drink. Do not neglect yourself, it is very unhealthy. You already lost weight, I can feel it…” he said while gently drying my eyes with his digit.

I nodded, rubbing my reddish nose. “Yes. I promise.”

“That’s a good girl.” he said as he softly kissed my forehead, scooting some hair away from my face. He made me smile and cheer up.

“Can I stay here while you work…? I mean.. here here…” here in his comforting embrace.

“Naturally.” he said with a warm smile as he held me with one of his servos, continuing to work with the other. I could feel his spark getting warmer which comforted me even more.

+ bonus +

Arcee, Bumblebee and Optimus in the back.

Arcee: …what in the-

Bumblebee: *while holding food* buzz beepboop buzzbuzz beepboopbeep

Optimus: indeed, Bumblebee. I have never seen Ratchet like this before either.

Arcee: well she definitely found his soft spot. Never knew he actually had one.

Optimus: Ratchet might be rough on the edges but inside.. he cares about all of us very deeply. *epic OP speech*

No, I don’t have a father figure, how did you know?

Dividers belong to @cute-sushi-roll , @conanstars 🧡

#transformers #transformers x reader #ratchet x reader #transformers ratchet #tfp ratchet #autobots #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp ratchet x reader

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 10 months

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You Owe Me (18+) (Request)

Pairings: Jack Harlow x Reader

Words: 1,428

Sneak Peek: You rested the side of your face on his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat. Jack raked his hands up and down your arms. “Is this because I mentioned your lazy eye? You know I think it’s so cute.” “There’s that word again!” You looked up at Jack, your chin resting on his chest. “What word?” “Cute”, Jack responded in a mocking tone.

Warnings: Smut (oral male receiving, intercourse), language

You stumbled up the walkway to your front door, keys jingling in your hand. You turned to wave bye to your friends as they peeled off in the Uber, leaving you to make it into your house just a little too drunk. You sighed, slumping your shoulders in distress when you tried to stick your house key into the electronic key panel and the door wouldn’t open. “Stupid fuckin technology,” you kicked the door, underestimating your strength, smashing your toes in the process. “Ow!” you yelled loudly, unable to gauge your volume due to your inebriation.

Jack swung the door open, aluminum bat in hand, fully prepared to hit what he thought was an intruder at his door. “Get the fuck out of here!” You cowered, covering your head with your hands. “Jack don’t hit me!” Jack lowered the bat, looking left and right to make sure there were no surprises around the corner before he addressed you. “Girl, I almost killed you! What are you doing?” he pulled you in the door. You were immediately all over him, your hands running over his curls, your drunk kisses leaving saliva all over his face. Jack humored you, letting you get handsy for a few minutes before you finally stopped from exhaustion. “I love you; you know that right?” you asked as you placed your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “Yes, baby, I love you too”, Jack responded as he stroked your hair, letting out a deep chuckle at the state of you.

Jack led you to the couch before going to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and pain killers. He handed them both to you, sitting down on the ottoman next to you. You swallowed the pills, chasing them with a large gulp of water before you slumped into the leather couch, giving Jack lustful eyes. You grabbed his hand, studying it as if you had never seen a hand so big before. “Anyone ever tell you you’re like really cute?”, you uttered, punctuating with a hiccup. “My mom a couple of times, I guess.” Jack shrugged, playing along. You looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Well, she’s right. Even with your lazy eye, you are really cute.”

“I think it’s time for bed.” Jack lifted you to your feet before throwing you over his shoulder, giving your butt a light spank as he carried you to the bedroom. “I meant it as a compliment!” you clarified.

You woke up the next morning unscathed and without a hangover. Jack was still in a deep sleep next to you, so you carefully got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and brush your teeth. You exited the bathroom with your towel wrapped around you, making your way to the closet to get dressed. “Stop right there.” You turned to Jack, who was on his back, eyes still closed. “C’mere.” You tip toed to his side of the bed. “You still drunk?” he looked up at you with one eye open. “Nope.” You readjusted your towel. “Good.” Jack pulled your towel off revealing your still damp, naked body, your skin glistening from your body lotion. “What the hell, Jackman?!” you asked as he pulled you on top of him. You adjusted so you were straddling his waist, sitting up. Jack rubbed his hands up and down your bare thighs, taking in the sight of you on top of him. “You owe me for last night.” You leaned your body over, laying on his chest. You ran your fingers through his thick curls as you licked up the length of his jaw. You rested the side of your face on his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat. Jack raked his hands up and down your arms. “Is this because I mentioned your lazy eye? You know I think it’s so cute.” “There’s that word again!” You looked up at Jack, your chin resting on his chest. “What word?” “Cute”, Jack responded in a mocking tone. You giggled, placing a kiss on his chin before you sat up again. “But you are cute. You’re my precious baby.” You began planting kisses all over Jack’s face, making him scrunch his nose because it tickled. You held his face in your hands, continuing to prove how cute you thought he was.

“I don’t wanna be cute. I want you to think I’m sexy.” You looked up at him with a surprised look on your face. “You think I don’t know how sexy you are?” “Well, you never say it, even though I tell you how hot you are all time.” You searched his eyes to make sure he wasn’t kidding around, but he stared back at you with genuine hurt in his eyes. “Jack, baby, I’m so sorry. I think you are the sexiest man alive.” You lowered your body down to lay kisses on his neck and chest, raking your fingers down Jack’s arms as you made your way down his body. “I think your arms are so sexy”, you whispered. You lifted his black tank over his head, exposing his freckled chest. You ghosted kisses down his pecs and the middle of his stomach. You pulled down his sweatpants just above his dick, blowing lightly just above his crotch, making him shiver. You followed his happy trail down with your tongue as you pulled his sweatpants down further, exposing his bulge. “Let me show you how sexy I think you are.”

You kissed the fabric covering his bulge, raking your hands down his chest. Jack’s cock twitched a few times in response. You pulled off his underwear to reveal his hardened cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip. “Fuck yes baby, that feels so good.” Jack grunted out, his gaze on your pretty mouth about to pleasure him. You licked the head once more, before moving to the base of his cock, your tongue running up the vein, while you stroked the head rapidly. You took as much of his length in your mouth as you could, continuing to stroke the base with both hands. “Uh, fuck”, Jack’s hips writhed as you worked on him, not coming up for air. You tapped one hand on his thigh to signal that you wanted to go deeper. Jack placed both hands on the back of your head, pushing you mouth further down his cock until you gagged. He thrusted his hips up into your face, uncontrollable drool leaking out of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You pushed away to come up from air, tears streaming from your face and your chest flushed red. You stroked Jack’s cock for a few more pumps before he had had enough. “Come here.” He held his hands out so you work your way up to hover over his cock. Once you were adjusted, you grabbed his cock underneath you, rubbing it between your folds before slowly sliding down, taking all his length at once.

You slowly rolled your hips back and forth, knowing that Jack was only minutes from cuming inside of you. You gripped onto the headboard above Jack’s head, using it for leverage as you ground your clit against his pelvis, building your own orgasm. Jack saw you desperately trying to get off without him cuming, he began rubbing your clit with his fingers, drawing circles around the nub. “Fuck Jack, make me come, let me show you how sexy you are.” You grabbed your breasts, throwing your head back in ecstasy. Jack thrust his hips into you, matching the pace of your riding. “Faster, baby”, you whispered out, and Jack obeyed. You clenched your pelvic muscles as you came over Jack’s hand and dick, Jack following behind you with his own orgasm, warmth building inside of you as he came. You took your time before you rolled over to lay next to Jack who was trying to steady his breathing, sweat beading at his brow. You caressed his chin, leaning close to his ear. “I love you baby, and I think you are the sexiest man alive.” Jack smiled, grabbing you again to pull you back on top of him. “Fuck yes, let’s go round two.”

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jackharlow #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow concepts #jackman harlow #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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echobi · 5 days

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You Belong with Me

Synopsis: When a cynical good-for-nothing, Jimin, sees the girl he was in love with a year after he'd quit gardening for "Bright Horizons", the luxurious development she resides in, all his feelings come rushing back, along with the harrowing memories of what had happened in that gated community last summer; all the while he meets a mysterious man who claims he sees the potential for show-business within him.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Romance + Drama + Angst + Smut + Fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

|| Episode 01 of ? ||

Tonight he saw you. Yoongi and he were pushing out of the cinema in a current of people when he saw you in a blue coat, mincing through the crowd. That stupid hot tremor mantled his cheeks, his chest and stomach; always new and horrifying no matter how many times he felt it. He called your name so quickly his voice ended a squeak, and the pedestrians around him became dense as statues as he charged through them until finally a pinch of your coat was in his fingers and you turned to look at him, the shimmer around your eyes sparkling under the pale streetlamp. He was bilious with panic. Beneath your skirted coat, your legs were naked and bristled with goose bumps, and he barely recognized you with your face made up.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said. “Y/N. Call me, write to me.”

You smiled at him, a bit like you from last summer, nodded stiffly, and you were gone with a bang of the yellow cab door. He stood on the curb for what felt a long time, hands sweating in his pockets and the oppressive, sweltering desire gutting him as he thought of your slight eyelashes and voice and lissome fingers on his shoulder, until that prick Yoongi came and slapped him on the head, telling him to get a move on and not to be so fucking pathetic, and Jimin slapped him too, and the prick laughed in his creepy, gravelly voice and fished a cigarette out of his pocket and shoved it into Jimin’s hand and told him to come on, that he’ll buy him a drink, and to wipe off that pussy ass face and stop being a fucking idiot.

He took him downtown, to Jack Rabbit, a sorry little alleyway pub made of wood panels and suffering from cramped space and fusty cigarette air, and they sat at the bar across the bearded codger that tended it on uncomfortable oak stools; Jimin couldn’t understand why he insisted on coming there, because, honestly, the draft beer was too bitter and flat and the ancient pop music from the jukebox prickled his ears and the codger always spewed some pseudo-philosophical bullshit and bored him to death with his dull life spent in poverty and gloom—and, really, it was a bit humiliating to frequent such a dump. It was a mystery how it stayed running with barely any guests. Still, Yoongi dragged him there routinely and downed the beer as if he enjoyed it and entertained that annoying old man with sagging jowls and a pig gut. If the prick weren’t the one paying, Jimin would have fucked right off out of there.

They drank for hours, until both of them were red in the face and slumped over the bar; the hung glasses and shelved alcohol bottles spun violently, Jimin’s foot kept slipping off the footrest, and Yoongi shook him until he was nauseas. You’re a moron, he kept telling him. A fuckin’ dunce. Face it: she’s never going to be with a good-for-nothing like you. You think she’s gonna pick you over all the rich motherfuckers chasing her? Don’t be a damn idiot, Chimmy, save yourself the fucking time.

But Jimin knew all this and still he didn’t believe it. The problem was not that he mowed your lawn the previous summer or that he went to a shithole like Jack Rabbit because he had no money to buy himself a beer. The problem was he, that fuck-face, that disgusting richling and his sick obsession with you.

It was all Kim Taehyung’s fault, that’s what he wanted to tell Yoongi. Jimin’s only sin was not killing the fucker. Richling was crazy about you, and Jimin saw firsthand how for weeks the bastard spoke about nothing but screwing you, making you his, whatever it took; I’ll fuck her like this, he’d drawl, the same shit over and over again, eyes bloodshot from the alcohol, I’ll fuck her like this then I’ll flip her on her knees and I’ll bang her like this, and he would wipe the whiskey off his mouth with the flat of his hand and laugh like a psychopath. Then he would clamber to his feet at the edge of the pier and pull out his cock and piss in the river as he blabbered on about how he was going to ram into you, teach you a lesson, and then he would shove it back into his swimming trunks, sit back down, and roll a blunt with those same filthy hands that touched his penis, all the while Jimin laughed faintly and made the most of Taehyung turning his back on him to swig from the bottle and take another cigarette, puffing smoke at the relentless mosquitos that wouldn’t stop latching onto his arm.

It was all that bastard’s idea of a joke, just banter, drunk talk, or at least that’s what Jimin thought in the beginning during their first carousals down by the river, in the shadiest part of the small wooden platform, where the gnarled branches of the fig tree kept them hidden from the eyes of the watchmen and other residents of the complex, and most crucially Taehyung’s grandparents that would, in his own words, suffer a stroke if they saw their “little boy” drinking alcohol and smoking pot and who knows what other crap, and that with none other than a member of “the help.” A gardener, no less.

That would be an absolute scandal, a breach of trust that would undoubtedly send Jimin across the river never to come back to Bright Horizons again, which in all truth wouldn’t really bother him, to stop slaving away for the bourgeois, except this was his first real job, his first signed contract and a steady paycheck, and even if it weren’t for the money, he would agonize endlessly over having lost the opportunity to see you, a privilege he wouldn’t have outside of that picket fence community, and for that he would withstand all Taehyung’s yapping and twisted fantasies, no matter how sick he was of his obsession with you, whom the bastard had fallen for the same day Jimin had, that afternoon in late June when your family drove to the Horizons to pick up the keys to your new home, you sprawled barefoot over the backseat of your grand white jeep with a book in hand.

Jimin remembered that day well; he had gawped at the Patek Philippe glimmering gold on your father’s wrist, lolled outside the window as the man gestured around explaining who you were and what you were doing there, a firm, grave glare fixing Jimin over the rim of his horn-wire spectacles, and your mother sat gracious beside him with a wary mascaraed eye, your run-of-the-mill lady, identical to all the other women living in the Horizon’s white villas, with her lips painted red and a hand fan in her lacquered fingers.

For a moment, you had looked up from the book, a finger pressing into the page, eyes naked and lustrous and in that moment staring into his with an air of bright, girlish interest; and even when he had opened the gate and the jeep drove in with a powerful whir, he saw you peek through the rear glass, mouth twisting into a demure smile once you had caught his eye.

Later, when he had first sat with the richling by the river, Jimin listened to an excruciating torrent of bullshit about how you had come out to the veranda barefoot that day, in your whorish white dress, and sat with your book and an apple, crossing your legs and biting into the fruit as if you had meant to taunt him who was watching you from the window, and whom you had smiled at too once he strutted into your front lawn with a plate of his granny’s lemon pie.

“I knew I would fuck her the moment I saw her,” Taehyung had told him, speaking of this as if it were some grand catharsis, only to then cluck with laughter like a damn hen and say, “But the slut is harder than I thought.”

That was the pioneer of all the times Jimin fantasized of wrapping his fingers around the bastard’s thick, tan neck until it blued and the fucker finally croaked; the first time his hands tingled at the thought of punching him. He wanted to push his head into the river, yank his arm out of the socket, beat him bloody for the whole Horizons to see and make him eat dog shit and garbage off his own lawn. And that’s what he should have done before leaving, instead of fearing what the rich boy might do to him; then he wouldn’t have had this terrible lingering fury that made him break out a sweat every time he thought of his idiotic face.

Around midnight, when Jimin was already so pie-eyed he could scarcely follow Yoongi’s monologue, a small group of men, all with gelled hair and their shirts crisp with starch, ludicrously wandered into Jack Rabbit, buzzing with talk and decorous har-de-har, their eyes meandering over the joint and its only two patrons with an air of cool, curious solicitude. The one who had opened the door, a tall, long-faced fellow with a rounded jaw, grinned widely, black coat billowing behind him as he approached the bar.

While he sat beside Jimin, a cologne of birch tar and lavender whipping him over the face, he wished the codger a good evening, his three cohorts sidling after him while giving each other the eye.

“Hello to you too,” said the codger and plucked the cigarette from his mouth, smile so big Jimin could hardly believe his cracked lips could stretch that far. He leaned over the bar. “Been a while since I saw you here, son.”

The man spoke again, and this time Jimin was perplexed at how deep and scratchy his voice was, and still less irritating than Yoongi’s. “I was busy with work,” he had said, or something along those lines; Yoongi clicked his scrawny fingers and distracted him from eavesdropping.

“Are you even listening?” he said, and Jimin could barely make out what was his voice and what the screech of the stools.

“No,” he told him, unsure if he had heard right, too shit-faced on those rums Yoongi had made him chug to think about it too much.

“Asshole.” He grabbed his bottle by the neck; draft beer had become too warm for him, he claimed.

The group had settled at the bar but everyone aside from the cheery man squirmed on the rock-hard oak, warily taking off their shawls and coats, the stubby one seated at the end trying to hook his own on the rack. One of them, the man who seemed youngest, was typing something on his phone while glancing at the codger at intervals.

“What are the gentlemen drinking tonight?”

The man took off his coat and elbowed Jimin in the ribs; the large tag inside read “Max Mara,” beneath it a bold, flashy text: Made in Italy. “Give me a Tom Collins,” he said, and shoved his coat into the man beside so abruptly the phone nearly fell out of his hand.

Jimin scoffed. “You make cocktails, old man?”

“For you, I don’t,” he said, and Yoongi laughed with his mouth still on the bottle. The man chuckled politely too, fingers laced and propped on his elbows. His sleeves were neatly rolled up, leather wristwatch taunting Jimin with its shine. The fool held himself so high and mighty all the while he sat in the same dunghill Jimin did.

Then, and for the rest of the time spent in that hovel, Jimin watched the man out the corner of his eye, contempt sprouting furiously at his lifeless, impersonal laughter, spiraling when he opened a fat cigar case and lit one of those dark, wiener-like abominations. Pungent whirls of tobacco drifted through the small space, thick and inescapable, crashing into Jimin’s cigarette smoke. The man nudged the pack toward the codger, who begrudgingly took one and smelled it, grumbling about its staleness while he hungrily drew on it.

Jimin didn’t have to speak to him to know the type. Entitled, obtrusive, rich. The kind who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Former presidents of the Student Council in college, which they breezed through in a whirl of toga parties and drinking contests, always secure and unafraid because a chair at daddy’s marketing firm was being kept warm for them. Those were the sort who grew up to be glitzy businessmen oblivious to their extravagance—the cigars, tailored suits, those bland, overpriced Max Mara coats. They were all Kim Taehyung in a few years, once he buys a few blazers and decides he wants to play grown-ups.

Those pricks seemed to haunt him, follow him even to a dump like the Rabbit. What did they want of him? Why did they swat at him like flies to shit?

“That’s the problem with rich bastards,” he was telling Yoongi later, as they walked through narrow Ahyeon-dong streets with their last cigarettes in mouth, steep alleys with webbed cables, too narrow for cars. “They’re all the same. Thinking they can just walk in anywhere and be treated like kings. Fucking pricks.” He was slurring frenziedly, tongue immobile and heavy in his mouth.

An icy breeze blew past, and all the blood surged into his cheeks, pumping, until he was so hot under the collar he thought he might go insane.

Cloud of smoke Yoongi had blown out hopped over his head and disappeared. “Stop your whining,” he said. “The world isn’t gonna stop spinning just because it hurts your feelings, Chimmy boy.”

Jimin could barely walk without vertigo and as they stumbled up the slope, then climbed the chipped rock stairs hanging onto the railing brown with rust, up till their street, he couldn’t strangle the words coming out his mouth to a halt; curses, profanities, calling Yoongi a pansy and a coward, sending him to hell, drooling like a cur, blustering with such famine and delirium until in the end he revolted himself, yet Yoongi’s apathy to the whole ordeal annoyingly persisted.

Before he went into the house, he gave Jimin a friendly slap on the cheek and told him to go to sleep, and to that Jimin stood in front of his house shouting until the man stuck out his middle finger and he was left on alone on the street and could go nowhere but his own home where, once he had closed the door, the silence was deep and thunderous.

The few hours until dawn were a painful slog. It was surreal: he wanted to fall asleep or at least do something, anything to keep the blare of quietude from piercing his ears, but instead he stared at the wall, turned over his bed like a worm, tiptoed from his room to the kitchen with his head full of nothing. He couldn’t tell what he thought about even if someone asked. Fatigue was weighing on him and the first hints of sun trespassed into the house in slits, cut up by the metal bars on the window, the sorry semi-basement rectangle. Outside of it swayed the rose shrub madam from upstairs planted; the tall brick gate it leaned on hid the street.

Jimin took a roll-up from the coffee table over his mother’s sleeping body, and it was a bad one, stale tobacco the color of hay jutting out the tip, and he sat on his bed listless, the only thing that could sedate him the thought of you. If he concentrated hard enough he could almost believe you were beside him, finger pressed into a book, window light catching onto the slight curly hairs that turreted into your scalp.

He fantasized about your skin, your big, honest eyes looking over him, the smile you gave him tonight, all those times last summer when you sat by the pool as he cleaned it, pushing a glass of lemonade into his hands, telling him it must be so hot and so hard and to come sit with you under the shade of the garden parasol for a moment. Then, as these thoughts usually went, those hands of yours, soft with all the creams smelling of pink peonies and peach, were gliding down his arm and you were thanking him for all his hard work, but he couldn’t hear you anymore because you hung on his elbow and the soft flesh of your breasts spilled over the neckline and touched his skin. He could die in that moment, if he wanted to. And although this image in particular usually led him to a cozy fairytale land, wherein he would be so muzzy and warm fighting sleep seemed tiresome—the joy of speaking with you in tongues and hands too grand to leave—tonight even those thoughts went awry.

The longer you were on his mind, the colder your smile from tonight felt, more distant, until it seemed so cruel he was certain his memory must have warped it.

What had that smile meant? Why had you said nothing to him? Would he, if he were someone like Kim Taehyung or the peacock from the bar, live to see you shun him so frigidly?

Sometime when the sun broke wholly over the sky and the rushed footsteps of the landlord’s children going to school trundled past his window, Jimin dozed off into a heavy, dreamless slumber, the stuffed ashtray beside his shoulder spilling when he rolled to the side.

The stench of cigarettes was unbearable when he awoke that noon, mother’s hands joggling him until he felt queasy. Look at what you’ve done, she was yelling, get up, get up right now, you idiot, but Jimin’s eyes felt so sunken and heavy it was a labor to open them, and he kept swatting her hands away, saying he will, saying just another moment, until she struck him so fatally on the back he jolted right up. She snatched the linen smeared with ash, singing a tired monologue of how he never listened, how she’d told him so many times not to smoke in the house, until it soared to the most common conclusion in their household: he was the same as his father. It all made his head ache and a faint taste of rum was on his tongue. Today, he felt so miserable he couldn’t find it in him to talk back to her.

At the side of the house, in the claustrophobic, dark cubicle of a bathroom, smelling of toothpaste and cleaning supplies, Jimin bent over the washbowl in unthinking ritual, scrubbing the filth off his face with soap, but no matter how many times he kneaded the bubbly foam into his cheek or spat out the gum-bloodied paste, he could not rid himself of the crud and grime anchored in his skin, as if he wore the raveled coat of a street mongrel.

Begrudgingly, he let the bathtub fill, and in the meantime sat on the fractured toilet seat that swayed to the side whenever he moved, lighting a cigarette he had swiped off the table. Now that his body had sobered, it seemed his mind followed, and in the place of last night’s ire and hurt came the routine gloom. He felt so full with nothing he thought he might implode. Everything he did last night, everything he said, even his every thought now seemed so juvenile and worthless, seemed so humiliating shame could have swallowed him whole. Why had he let any hope of you linger when all it ever did was fatigue him? He looked at the purling bathtub, the yellow rust inside it and the enamel steel chipping at the sides, and was sick with laughter. Even in a world where you wanted him, what came after that, bringing you to his house? Letting you bathe in there? See where he slept? He would rather bite his tongue off than ask that of you.

Never mind how better he wanted to make himself think he was than those banal fools swatting you, it was, in the end, a fact: he was twenty, jobless, and living with his mom in a half-basement. Of course you would shun him. Yoongi was right: he couldn’t compete with all the rich motherfuckers chasing you.

Still it was a pleasure to fantasize. As Jimin poured some little wash gel in the tub and soaked himself in the scent of camellia, the bad habit persisted, pictures of your sundress and hair tousling in the wind and all those times you touched him, where you for a moment became a creature of flesh and blood and not a figment of his imagination stalking barefoot across the lawn, sprawled furiously before his eyes, every one of them another punch in the gut.

It always was very hard for him to think of you without romanticizing you, but today all the love and worship in these dreams and memories, which had mushed together in a confused, giddy dollop, seemed cruel and masochistic to indulge in, and still he sought them and the pain they brought.

He must have enjoyed suffering if he longed for it that much.

Jimin sank his head in the water until it swallowed everything beneath his eyes, and at once, absurdly, felt entirely peaceful.

Until the water cooled and his mother began yelling for him to get out, Jimin kept punishing himself by thinking of you and holding his breath under water, and by the time he had dried himself, he was serene, almost rechristened. Nothing had changed, and he barely felt any better, but now he had accepted you were only ever meant to be in his head.

Author's Note: Hello, lovelies!! Thanks for reading all the way through to the end, I can't explain how grateful I am you took the time to consume my story! You are wonderful!

Aside from expressing my gratitude, I wanted to throw out some fun facts about this particular story for anyone who's interested. This entire written chapter had been sitting in my drafts for almost two years now, and it wasn't until a few weeks ago that I went trash-diving through my laptop and found this. At the time I'd first written this, I was very discouraged because I felt this was not good enough, and it took me many morning commutes to work to finally talk myself into posting this.

What I really wanted to gain from sharing this fic here on Tumblr, though, was an honest opinion of someone outside of my head. Is this actually any good? Is this oh-my-god-throw-it-in-the-trash bad? Is there any aspect of this I could improve? That is what I wanted to ask you. So, if there is anything at all you wish to say to me about my writing (even if that's: Uhm, you misspelled this word here, dumbass...) you are very welcome to do so!

If you're too shy or simply think this was so bad you want to forget it as soon as you scroll past this post, that's okay too! Thank you for reading and I hope you have a very nice day ahead of you.

XO, Echobi -`♡´-

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heroesriseandfall · 1 year

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Dick Grayson & Tim Drake: A Photograph

A photo of my family and you’re in it.

Comic sources:

Batman #441

Secret Origins #50

Batman #436

Batman #441

Secret Origins #50

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing”

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing” [edited]

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing”

Secret Origins #50

Detective Comics #965

52 #31, “The Origin of Robin”

Batman #441 - Cover by George Pérez

Red Robin #12

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing”

Batman #440

Image descriptions in alt text are also copied below read more.

1. Two comic panels from Batman #441 showing 13-year old Tim Drake sitting in a chair at Wayne Manor, with Dick Grayson in front of him and Alfred Pennyworth standing beyond that. They all have serious expressions on their faces. Tim says, “Okay, you won’t take me seriously until I tell you everything. Dick, I don’t want this to hurt you. And I’m really afraid it might.” Dick says, “Tim, just tell your story, please.” Tim reaches into his jacket as if to grab something and says, “All right, all right. Well, first, my name’s Tim Drake…and though you won’t remember it, we’ve met before. I’ve even got a photograph to prove it.”

2. Text from Secret Origins (1986) #50 that says: A woman with a small boy in the front of the grandstand waved to him. All three Graysons trotted to her. “This is Tim’s first time at the circus,” she said, patting the boy’s thin shoulder, “and we were wondering if you’d let us take your photo with him.” “Of course,” Mother replied, smiling. “We’d be delighted.”

3. Comic panels from Batman #436 showing John and Mary Grayson in their yellow, green, and red circus costumes as they walk through the circus with a young Dick Grayson between them. John says, “Dick, I’ve got those tickets for the baseball game monday.” Dick grins up at him and says, “You really got ‘em? Wow! I can’t believe I’m actually going to the World Series.” Someone off-panel says, “Umm, excuse us for interrupting, but—” The Drakes walk right up to the Graysons. Janet is in a pink day dress and Jack is in a suit, holding a very young Tim Drake in his arms. Janet says, “This is Tim’s first time at a circus, and we were wondering if you’d let us take your photo with him?” Mary Grayson puts her hands on Dick’s shoulders as Dick grins up at little Tim, who smiles down at him in response. Mary says, “Of course…we’d be delighted.” They all pose for a picture with the crowds behind them. Jack and Janet stand between John and Mary, while Dick kneels in the front holding young Tim up on his knee. He looks down at Tim, who looks back, and with a smile, Dick says, “Tim, say cheese.”

4. A comic panel from Batman #436 showing Alfred Pennyworth’s hands holding out and gesturing towards a photo as he says, “Gentlemen, and ladies—the very last photo of the Grayson family together. One last moment of happiness.” The photo shows the Grayson and Drake families together in the same poses as the previous image. John and Mary Grayson stand on either side of Jack and Janet Drake, while Dick kneels on one knee with his other knee up, where he is holding young Tim to sit on the knee. The parents are looking forewards, but Dick and Tim are looking at each other. The Graysons are all in their circus costumes, but the Drakes are in suits and Janet a dress.

5. A comic page from Batman #441. The first panel shows Tim Drake, who is sitting in a chair at Wayne Manor and holding up a photo of the Drakes with the Flying Graysons while Dick Grayson is standing in front of Tim’s chair. Tim says, “This was taken on my first trip to the circus—on the day I saw Batman for the first time...On the day your parents were killed.” Dick Grayson looks shocked, and takes the photo as he says, “Oh, my god—my parents.” Alfred Pennyworth, standing behind Dick, says, “I—I know this photograph, that’s you?” Tim looks up at them and says, “Uh-huh. After Bruce Wayne made you his ward, my parents sent it to you. They thought you’d want it. I was only a kid, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened. I had nightmares about it for years. First about your parents, then about Batman. I kept seeing this dark black thing that swooped out of the sky. No, no—let me start at the beginning.” The scene changes to a gold-toned memory of the Drakes walking through Haly’s Circus. Janet is in a light dress, holding Jack’s arm as they grin at each other. Jack is in a suit, holding a young Tim who is also in a suit and has a big smile on his face as he reaches towards a passing Clown. Janet says, “I think you were right, honey—he loves it. Look at him laughing at everything.” Jack replies, “Hey, I said he wasn’t too young.” Janet says, “Okay, I was wrong. But sometimes circuses can frighten kids.” The Drakes walk through the circus, toward where you can see the Flying Graysons walking together. Janet continues, “They’re loud and rowdy, and I remember when I was Timothy’s age I was scared by people wearing costumes. Sue me. I'm a mother. I worry.” Jack says, “You were a girl. Tim’s a boy. That’s the difference.” Janet smiles up at Jack and says, “Sexism, dear? And here I thought you were liberated.” Jack follows Tim’s eyesight toward the smiling Flying Graysons as they walk past, then says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Look, if you’re so worried, there’re a couple of the performers. Let’s take him over there. He’ll see they’re people just like him.”

6. A comic page from Batman #441 showing a gold-toned memory scene with the Flying Graysons, all in acrobatics costumes remniscent of the Robin suit, and the Drakes, who are wearing formal dress. Mary and John are smiling at Dick walking between them as Dick excitedly says, “—I’m actually going to the world series?” Beyond him, Janet and Jack Drake are walking up to them, with Jack holding a very young smiling Tim in his arms. Jack says, “Umm, excuse us for interrupting, but this is Tim’s first time at the circus…and we were wondering if you’d let us take your photo with him?” The two families pose, with Dick on one knee with Tim Drake sitting on his other knee, held up by Dick’s arms. Tim stares at Dick in wonder as Dick smiles at him and says, “Tim, say cheese.” 13-year-old Tim speaks through a narration box to say, “Maybe I knew you were just a kid like me, but I kept staring at you, and your circus costume. It was bright red and green and you seemed so happy in it.” In the memory, Dick pats Tim’s head as he gets ready to leave, and says, “Watch me on the trapeze, Tim. I’m going to do my act—‘specially for you. Be good now.” Then the scene returns to the present, in regular color, showing 13-year-old Tim sitting in Wayne Manor while Alfred and Dick look at him. Tim says, “I don’t remember the clowns or the animals, or anything else. I just remember waiting for you to go on. And then, when you did, I just sat there and watched.”

7. Text from Secret Origins #50 that says: The photo was snapped and the Graysons returned to the darkness of the backstage area and did the stretching exercises Johnny Grayson insisted precede every performance. On the other side of the canvas wall, the crowd was laughing and applauding the clowns’ fireman routine. They heard the ringmaster’s round baritone, amplified and distorted by the loud speakers, booming through the tent. “Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages—for your entertainment and amusement, doing their death-defying act without benefit of a net—” Johnny kissed his wife and ruffled his son’s hair.

8. A comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, the fourth story, showing Tim Drake and Dick Grayson sitting on a couch in Dick Grayson’s apartment. Tim is on the left wearing a pink and purple Gotham Knights jersey with a matching hat. He’s pointing at Dick, who’s turned to listen attentively to Tim while wearing a white tank top and gray sweats as he clicks a TV remote. Tim says, “Dick, meeting you—and him—have been the single most defining moments of my life.” The scene changes to the memory of the Drakes and the Flying Graysons posing together in Haly’s Circus while someone who is just a silhouette takes a photo of them. John and Mary are standing on either side of Jack and Janet with wide smiles, each in their red, yellow, and green acrobatics outfits. John’s and Dick’s outfits look particularly remniscent of the Robin outfit. Dick is kneeled in front of the parents with one knee up where young Tim is sitting on his thigh, smiling and looking at Dick. 14-year-old Tim narrates this memory by saying, “Some days I wish I could go back to feeling like that. You promised me that you’d do a quadruple somersault. And you delivered. It was the best day of my life. And then your parents died.”

9. An edited comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1 of very young Tim Drake with his father’s arm on his shoulder, both looking up at John and Mary Grayson falling. John and Mary are in their red, yellow, and green acrobatics costumes, knees bent and arms stretched with one part of hands barely touching. Behind them, their acrobatic lines are snapping. Crowds in the large tent are yelling and pointing up at them. Tim’s face is not visible but he’s clearly watching them fall.

10. A comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1 of nine-year-old Tim Drake staring at a TV screen, on which Robin is visible mid-flip, arms holding his legs tucked in. The Penguin is croached with his back turned to Robin, directly in position for Robin to land on him. Audio from the TV is saying, “Wanted for theft of the Lapis Lazuli Horus Crown, the so-called Penguin was apprehended by the Batman and a young costumed vigilante…” 13-year-old Tim narrates the memory of his younger self, saying: “You gave yourself away with the quad. The ringmaster told the crowd at Haly’s that only three people alive could pull off a jump like that—you and a pair of Russian gymnasts that defected from the Bolshoi to Ringing Brothers. I knew it was you.” Off-panel, Dick Grayson responds to Tim’s recollection by saying, ”Incredible. A nine-year-old kid figures out the best-kept secret on the planet.” In the memory, just beyond young Tim in the background are Jack and Janet Drake at a table, with Jack looking like he’s speaking angrily.

11. Text from Secret Origins #50 that says: Below, the ringmaster was saying, “Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please, as young Dick Grayson attempts the in-credible…im-possible…quadruple flip of doom!” Dick breathed deeply and slowly, relaxing himself as Johnny had taught him, grabbed the bar, pushed off the platform, letting momentum carry him— But was something wrong? The trapeze didn’t feel right. —and allowed his mind to empty, and there were the few dizzy, exhilarating instants: spin spin spin spin. Feet thudding onto the platform. Roar of applause. Mother’s warm fingers touching his cheek. Ringmaster’s boom: “Let’s hear it, ladies and gentlemen—dauntless Dick Grayson, the boy wonder of the circus!”

12. A comic page from Detective Comics #965 showing a warm-toned scene of 13-year-old Tim Drake talking to a gobsmacked Dick Grayson in Wayne Manor. Tim says, “C’mon, Dick—that flip you did as Robin. It was a quadruple somersault. The circus ringmaster said only three people could do that.” Tim holds up a photo of the Drakes with the Flying Graysons, and continues, “I knew that somersault. Knew it like I knew my own name.” Tim smiles and says, “And it all made sense. Batman showed up at the circus and took you with him. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. If you were Robin, and you were Bruce Wayne’s ward—I realized Bruce Wayne was batman.” The scene zooms out to show Tim sitting in a chair as Dick and Alfred Pennyworth stare at him. Tim says, “I don’t want to say the rest was easy, because you guys really covered your tracks. But if you go in knowing Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are Batman and Robin, well, you can find the clues to prove it.”

13. Comic panels from 52 #31, 2nd story, “The Origin of Robin.” 9-year-old Tim Drake is shown from the back, sitting on the floor staring at a TV screen that shows Dick Grayson as Robin, flipping through the air. Tim’s face is reflected in the TV screen, showing his awestruck smile. Various objects are scattered on the floor in front of Tim, including pizza, books, and a magnifying glass. Orange narration boxes say, “The eyes of a fan caught a moment the rest of the world had overlooked. Tim Drake—and Tim Drake alone—had grown up fascinated by the career of an obscure and forgotten child acrobat named Dick Grayson—but when Tim saw Batman’s partner Robin perform Grayson’s signature gymnastic moves, something clicked in Tim’s mind.” The next panel shows Tim in a trenchcoat, expression awestruck as he shines a flashlight through a glass case in which a pristine Robin costume is hanging. The narration boxes continue, “Over the next few years, Tim—through a series of clues and lucky breaks—proved conclusively that Grayson was Robin…or, rather, had been.”

14. George Pérez’s cover art for Batman #441, cropped to focus on the lower half. Dick Grayson, in civilian clothing, is standing in the forefront of the image, with the 80’s Batcave looming around him. He’s looking down with a pensive expression at the Robin costume held in his hands. Behind to the right, Tim Drake (also in civilian clothing) is standing with photographs falling out of his hands in front of Dick’s shoes. The closest photo shows the Flying Graysons posing with the Drake family. The next closest two photos are of Robin and Batman. Beyond Dick and the photos, to the left, is Alfred Pennyworth. Up at the top, partially cropped away, are Batman and Two Face’s lower faces, with a scene of a bridge by Batman’s face and a flipping coin with a scene of Gemini casinio behind it right next to Two Face’s face. In the Batcave, the giant penny, the T-rex, and the massive batcomputer are all on prominent display.

15. Comic panels from Red Robin #12 of Dick Grayson talking to Tim Drake with a blurry aquamarine Batcave behind them. Dick is wearing the chestplate of the Batman suit but no cowl, as he looks intensely (with the slightest smile) toward Tim, who is shirtless, revealing long pink scratches and scars along his shoulder and cheek. Tim, looking up at Dick, says, “Ra’s—” Dick says, “Gone. We swept the place and got nothing. You want to tell me what that was all about?” Tim replies, “It’s...a little complicated. But I think we’re good for a while.” Dick says, “How’d you know? How did you know I’d be there to save you?” Tim smiles up at Dick as he says, “You’re my brother, Dick. You’ll always be there for me.”

16. A comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1 showing Tim drake and Dick Grayson sitting on the couch in Dick’s apartment. Dick is reaching over to mess with Tim’s hair as Tim laughs and leans away, raising his hands to jokingly defend against Dick. Behind them in the apartment is a desk with a computer whose screen is lit up with a woman’s sketchy face. Dick says, “Got a friend visiting.” Barbara Gordon, over Dick’s computer audio, asks, “Anyone I know?” Dick says, “Little brother.”

17. Cropped art from Batman #440 of a cool-toned photograph with the Flying Graysons and the Drake family posing together. The Flying Graysons are all in their acrobatics outfits. John and Dick Grayson’s outfits are styled similarly, looking like a mix of the original Robin suit and Tim Drake’s first Robin suit. John and Mary are stood to either side of the smiling Jack and Janet Drake. Jack is in a suit and his hands are resting on Janet’s arms. Janet is wearing a day dress. In front of all the parents, Dick Grayson is down on one knee, with his left knee up so little Tim Drake can be perched on his thigh. Tim is in a a suit, similar to his father, and he’s looking up at Dick with a broad, awestruck smile. Dick is holding Tim in place with his arms, and instead of looking toward the camera like the parents are, he’s meeting Tim’s eyes with a smile. Behind them all, the crowds of Haly’s Circus are vaguely visible. In the corner by Dick’s right left, 13-year-old Tim Drake’s thumb is resting on the photograph, as if he’s holding it.

#dick grayson #tim drake #batfamily #batfam #batbros #robin iii #bonds: i knew it was you #robin i #the flying graysons #heroesriseandfall #edits #dc comics #i'm a little nuts about their brotherhood maybe just maybe...also i could've added the 'seeing batman for the first time' parallels #but i didn't want this to be about Bruce I just wanted it to be Tim & Dick and their families at the circus <3 #plus it was already getting long RIP i already went past the mobile app image limit.#sorry for the extremely long image descriptions it's meant to be a very visual post and comics have so much in just one page #long post #my edits

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pianostarinwonderland · 5 months

Note

pov piano goes insane over azul (real)(not clickbait)

this ask was actually sent in the last octa manga update but it is relevant again with the new update

AND BYYYYYY GODDDDDDDDDDDDD I HATEEEEEE THIS NEW UPDATE CAUSE WTJFHWKJHKEHKHSDHFKDSKFDSNFNJKSDNKF ???????????????

I'M STIL;;NOT OVER THE FUCKING UDPATE LIKE ??????? WHAT HTE FUCK ???????????????

LITERALLY ?? EVERYTHING I WOULD HAVE WANTED???/ IN ONE FUCKING UPDATE?????????

LIKE LIKE WHAT THE FUCK

THE WAY THE CONTRACT COVERS ONE SIDE OF HIS FACE IS SOOOOO HOTTTTT LIKE ???G.,SD,GS 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

AND AND THE FUCKING WHATEVER THIS POSE IS

THE WAYYYYYYY HE'S SHOVING THAT CONTRACT IN FRONT OF YUUTA'S FACE WITH THAT KIND OF SMUG AUTHORITY OR WHATEEVR IDK WORDS WHAT ARE WORDS ANYMORE ??? EITHER WAY I AM MCFUCKING DOWN. DOWN I SAY. PLS LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT.

and then WAYYYYYYY HE LOOKS SOOOO DERANGED IN THESEE PANEL LIKE ??????

may i take your hand i want your hand i like your hand so much pls sir

god also the mirror to the og scene in the movie like. god. god god god. i love it im in love dear god dear god dear god

AND THIS ?? THIS ..

LIKE NOT ONLY IS THE URSULA PARALLEL RIGHT . THERE . BUT ALSO HE JUST LOOKS SOOOOOO EVIL AND YOU KNOW WHAT, THAT'S MY LOVE RIGHT THERE !!! MY DARLING, MY LOVE, LOOKING SO HOT AND SEXY LIKE THAT HHRGGGRGRHJHJRHJBDHJR

AND HE LOOKS SO CUTE AS FUCK HERE WHYYYY WHYYYYYYYYY HE RLLY LOOKING LIKE THAT AFTER GIVING A BACKSTORY OF ARIEL AND THE POTION AND JUST UGH UGH PEPECIRES he looks so cute and happy ADN IDK WHY BUT THE WAY HIS MOUTH WAS DRAWN OOUGHHHHH I WANNA I WANNA COMMIT CRIMES ON HIS MOUTH

AND IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU ANYMORE.

WHAT IS GOING ON HERE. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK DID THE MANGAKA TAKE TO DRAW THIS FUCKING SCENE. WHAT IS. WHAT THE

GGGGRGRGRHHRHR87Y78Y98U9PEWD;FKSD[PO]OOFU)(FU0AUDSFOUADIOSFOHJDSIHJ FI > ?? ?/? //? /GIJOWUFD9UFD9U GOD GOD GOD GOD OHHHHH TO BE YUUTA SO BAD SO FUCKIN BAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDD GOOODDDDDDDDDDD IF I WAS THERE I'D BE EATING LITERAL FUCKING rOCSK MY GRIM KINNIE ERA STARTING FOR REA L

AND THEN THE PAGE AFTER THAT LIEK ???/?? ?/

THE WAY MANGAKA DREW AZUL HERE JUST ???? IDK WHAT ABOUT THIS PAGE OF AZUL THAT GETS ME BUT.

IT GETS ME.

I WANT HIM III WANANNTNTTTHIMGIGMHHHHMMMMM M

whyyyyyy does he look so hot like that WHYYYYYYYYYYYY AM I DOWN BAD FOR THIS

THE KIND OF LOOK THAT GETS ME SCARED AND H WORD AT ONCE

and we can't forget to mention.

the one. that one . the one . the one the one the one

TTTTTTTTHAT ONEEEE PANELLLLLLLLLLLLL

🧍‍♀️

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

🧍‍♀️

i can't. i fucking can't. why is he dressed down. he shrugged off his jacket and coat. everything that i've only seen in fan works for 3+ years.... NOW FUCKING CNAONIN MY EYES AND HE'S SO "FSS..F.M../??/ ,/ HELL OO O OO O O OOO O OO SIRRRRRRRRRR OHHHHHHH MYYY GOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD SCREAMING AND CRYING AND PISSING AND SHITITING MYSELF AND MCFUCKING YEETING TO SPACE AND FALLIN BACK DOWN GIRL HELP I'M IN THE WATERRRRRRRRR I WANT HIM MM M K MDGKFMLG I WNAT HIM

ok i am so glad they went off with tis update though because ik that next month won't really give me much azul <///3 it will be the scene where adeuce and jack help grim and yuuta with accommodations, so svnc stans will have their time to shine

ok im normal now.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst manga #azul ashengrotto #ask

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thordottir45 · 1 year

Text

The Outlaw's Spirit pt.2

Part 1 below

Ages

Jason- 21~22

Danny- 16~17

Jazz- 18~19

Damian- 11~12

Tim- 18~19

Dick- 25~26

Bruce- 37~38

Alfred- immortal

Cass- 22~23

Steph- 18~19

Duke- 16~17

"Woah..." Danny's voice trails off as he takes in the cave.

"Welcome to the Batcave, home to all the bats and birds of Gotham. My name's Jason." Red Hood tells Danny as he takes off his domino, revealing swirling tealish blue eyes.

"Oh, I'm Danny, can't believe I forgot to mention that before..."

"It's fine, Danny. Let's get upstairs for some food, huh?" Jason says with a smirk before leading the way to an elevator.

"Me want to go." Bizarro speaks up as they pass a seating area.

'I'll stay with B, as much as I love to watch the matches between you and you family, the less people the better for this, I feel." Artemis pats Jason's shoulder before peeling off with Bizarro, leaving Jason and Danny to continue on alone.

"Alright, then... So, everyone you'll meet is either a vigilante or the butler, Alfred. No matter what the media says, Alfie's the real force behind the Wayne family, believe that." With that casual reveal, Jason steers Danny into the elevator.

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne? The fruitloop who's known for being a playboy... is Batman?!" Danny's voice echoes around the small space with his exclamation.

"The one and only. Prepare to be interrogated. He won't hold back just because you're a kid." The elevator doors open with that warning, revealing a study with wood paneling, many bookshelves, and quite a few picture frames.

The desk is covered with paperwork, paperweights, picture frames, and writing utensils. The leather chair behind it is made cozier by a throw blanket. Perched in said chair is a pre-teen boy of middle-eastern complexion with an intense expression and the green eyes to match.

"Todd. Who allowed you to bring in a civilian through the cave? I doubt Father is aware of this, as we have not been made informed via briefing." Damian glares at his second eldest brother.

"Oh, shut it, you demon. I'm taking this kid in, with or without the old man's approval." Jason continues to steer Danny out of the room, letting the grandfather clock close behind them. A single toll of the clock's chime rings out as the two leave the study.

Danny looks back at the clock, seeing a green post-it note sticking out from behind the glass. "Clockwork," He whispers, turning back to face the black-haired man. "You're taking me in?"

"Kid, your parents are never going to see a single hair from your head again if I can help it. I won't be your dad, but I can be a brother." Jason looks Danny in the eye as he says this, wanting to get his point across.

"My sister... she should be coming to Gotham soon. Can you keep an eye out for her? Her name's Jazz, Jasmine, Fenton. But she'll likely change her last name soon."

"Will do, kiddo. Just give me a picture later. Now, any food preferences or allergies? Alfie'll want to know." The two continue the trek through the manor as the dialogue continues to flow.

"Well, this is the dining room. Take any seat that you're comfortable with. Don't feel forced to answer the old man's questions." With those instructions, Jason opens the heavy oak door to the room.

As Danny enters, he's shocked by the amout of people with black hair and blue eyes. Jason acts as Danny's bodyguard as they approach the long, stately table.

"Jason, who is this?" The man at the head of the table asks.

"This is Danny. I'm taking him in." Jason tells Bruce, who lifts a single brow.

"Father, Todd brought the boy in through the cave." Damian tattles to the bat as he enters behind Danny and Jason. The latter of which glares at the youngest while muttering under his breath.

"Did this one have a chance to figure it out? Or did you fully skip that part of the tradition?" Tim asks from his place three seats to Bruce's left.

Jason gives the stalker a tongue-lash of an answer. Duke chuckles as the response, earning an elbow to his ribs for it.

"Never see me sit next to you again," Duke hisses to Tim for that hit.

"Nephew or baby brother?" Cass asks as she appears in the room, startling all but Danny, who had noticed her while Jason was responding to Tim.

"To be determined, but brother is more likely." Jay tells his little big sister as she glides over to the table to claim her seat.

"When was this decided?" Bruce begins his interrogation before the two even take their seats, earning him a look from his father-figure.

Dinner passes somewhat uneventfully, at least for a manor of vigilantes. Danny answered whichever questions he was comfortable with, while also making some small puns to keep the atmosphere light.

"You just happened to come across a punster, huh?" Tim asks Jason as Alfred serves dessert.

"Didn't realize it until twenty minutes ago, so, yeah. Dickie must never find out." Jay growls as he looks around the room, fully expecting his older brother to just pop in at the mention of his name.

"I must never find out what? Oh, who's the new face? Hi, I'm Dick!" The acrobat drops from the vent, landing in his designated chair before turning to Danny with a wide grin.

Sensing the impending pun-off, Bruce, Jason, Tim, and Damian groan.

"You go by that willingly?!"

Tag list: If you want to be added, please comment!

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