#it's good seeing timothy again
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DC x DP prompt/ficlet
Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:
Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...
Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.
While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!
Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.
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Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED
Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE
Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?
RR: I would like to know that too
Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!
RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?
FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...
RR: Shit
Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??
FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...
Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!
RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*
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Some time and explanations later...
Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?
Tim: Fml
RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that
Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English
RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics
Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times
RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...
Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that
Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway
Danny: That's what you took from that??
RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.
Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole
RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...
Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*
Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?
RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no
Danny and Tim: Fuck
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Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.
They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...
Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*
Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...
Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#tim drake#red robin#danny fenton#ficlet#batman#batfam#accidental marriage#arranged marriage
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Some Timothy questions because I am Intrigued by him!
Does he usually stay in his slime form? How long did it take him to get comfortable with it? You mentioned he was adopted by Sunita’s family, how did they find him?
Before he saw Donnie again, did he miss him, or wonder what had happened to his turtle friend? Did he get therapy after his sudden and dramatic mutation?
Franky worked construction before he got his job at Run of the Mill. He came across Tim while he was working on one of the roads near Draxum’s lab. Timothy was pretty traumatized, and had a really hard time communicating what had happened, so the hospital Franky brought him to wasn’t able to get much information from him.
When it was time for Timothy to be discharged, he’d be going into the system, but Franky hoped Timothy would feel more comfortable with other slime yokai, and offered to foster him. He calls Franky “Uncle Frank” and thinks of Sunita as a sister/close cousin and calls her “Sunni”. He’s pretty much given up the idea of ever seeing his real family again, which isn’t too heartbreaking, as they were pretty absent and didn’t even seem to worry about how often their son would disappear for hours at a time, before vanishing for good.
By age 11, Tim was able to keep his form consistently stable. Timothy had these crazy, big dreams of getting strong enough to use his mutant powers against Draxum, and saving Three. It was a little worrying how obsessive he could be, and something his therapist tried to get Tim to be realistic about.
When Tim finally sees Donnie again, he’s so happy Don is just safe and away from Draxum. All the training (boxing, weight-training, etc) to get stronger, didn’t really feel like a waste though. It still helped him work through his trauma, even if he first started doing it with the intention to rescue Donnie.
There’s a quiet guilt every time Donnie looks at Tim without his cloaking broach, so he wears it any time he’s around the Mad Dogs. But Donnie does eventually get over it, and loves Tim in either form. Cuddling is cuddling.
#rottmnt#rottmnt fanart#tmnt#tmnt fanart#timatello#rise of the tmnt#rise donnie#rise timothy#rise sunita#Donatello x Timothy#ask slushie#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt separated au#separated au#my art
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"I Want To See My Little Boy!" Batmom
I ALMOST did angsty on Damian's. I almost did. But I'm not.
It's a time honored tradition that if Batmom calls for one of her children, one will be received.
Dick Grayson
It first started with Dick.
The mansion had gotten much more lively since his arrival, but at the moment, it was far too quiet. Moreso than you're used to in the past few months, and even if you were peacefully reading, it feels far too quiet without the small boy's talking, or humming, or singing, or general noise just being in your company.
You set your book down, glancing around the otherwise empty room with a displeased hum.
"I want to see my little boy!" you said loudly, voice carrying out of the room. You felt foolish, it was random and you didn't know what you expected out of it, but before you thought too much, you could hear the patter of small feet running down the hallway.
"I want to see my little boy!" you call again, a grin now on your face hearing him almost at the door.
He slides in, sock covered feet skidding him a good eight feet past the door on wooden floor.
Dick's smile is one that could rival the brightest sunshine, eyes closed and crinkled with joy and his arms stretched up as if to say "ta-da!"
"Here he is!" he sees you sitting on one of the couches and somehow his grin still widens at seeing you. His pace quickly picks up again, fully launching himself off the floor and into your arms, laughter bubbling from him as you return his hug with glee.
"My little boy" you coo as he can't stop laughing yet, making himself perfectly at home on top of you and your book.
Jason Todd
P.S. Jason is a tiny little child and you are strong.
It had been years since you had called your little boy, it had been years since you had a little boy to call to. Even if Dick did humor you doing so well into his teens. (he got quite a kick out of doing so, and always threw his full weight onto you for a hug each time.)
When you got Jason it wasn't really something that had been on your mind, it was just something you did with Dick that you figured was over as he grew up.
Jason was sat on top of his covers looking through his homework. It wasn't a great day, nothing especially bad but after greeting Alfred when he got home he'd gone straight to his room, quietly closing his door and wishing the day would be over sooner than later.
What Jason didn't account for, and never would expect, was for you to have seen how downtrodden your little boy looked getting home and decided to bring a plate of Alfred's cookies up after him.
When you see his door partially open, and a sad little boy emptying his backpack you set the cookies on his dresser and just wish there was some way to cheer him up.
You knock on his door once to alert him, and as he looks up Jason finds you with a big smile on your face and arms open towards him.
"I want to see my little boy!" there's an infection energy in your tone and you surge forward, lifting him beneath his arms and tossing him lightly in the air with a flourish.
"I want to see my little boy!" you repeat, catching him in a hug and twirling you both around, Jason's laughter fills the air as he swings around in your warm hold.
"I'm here! I'm here!" the words are blurred with laughter and it takes you both a minute to calm down enough to eat your cookies, but not without squeezing him in another hug before you let him go.
Tim Drake
Being honest, it was unfair how you were around Tim at times.
You were miserable, very much depressed and hated that at times you couldn't hide it. Being too quiet and letting your mask slip at times, and you hated Tim seeing that.
Little Timothy, a sweet and bright boy who you adored and always tried his best to cheer you up when he noticed your sadness.
And he did, Tim helped you so very much and could make you smile on a terrible day.
Dick also tried to cheer you up. Often coming to the manor to spend time and keep you company.
It Occurs to him before it occurs to you, he remembers how much fun he would have whenever you called out "I want to see my little boy!" how he would come running from anywhere into your arms. He also remembers the first time he saw you go after Jason the same way, the small boy's giggles and a joyful squeal being scooped into a hug.
You're not doing much when Dick calls you. It's a quiet day and you're in the kitchen debating doing anything when his face shows up on your call screen.
"Hey ma! Tell me real quick, do you want to see your little boy?"
"Huh?" You're confused, Dick hasn't done that in years, and you're not quite sure if you could handle him tackling you anymore.
"C'mon, c'mon, tell me you want to see your little boy!" You can hear the pep in his voice and a confused commotion behind him, you think he might have switched on speaker when it suddenly gets louder.
"I want to see my little boy?" You phrase it as a question, but it doesn't take more than seconds for the large kitchen doors to swing open, Dick holding little Tim below his arm and swinging him upright in both hands offering him like the lion king as he runs around the kitchen, small boy yelling in protest.
"Here he is!" They finally stop in front of you, Tim looking rather distraught and ruffled, hoodie bunched struggling in Dick's grip, who has a large smile giving you your prize. You wouldn't be surprised if he'd just grabbed poor Tim off the ground and ran with him here. Actually, you'd bet that's what he did.
You snort, Tim looks like a very scraggled kitten in Dick's arms, being swung back and forth a little in front of you for a reaction. You smile, opening your arms to catch him and Dick eagerly drops the poor boy onto you for a hug.
"Here he is." your words are muffled against the collar of his jacket hugging him, and Dick decides to join in, this time lifting you both from off the floor in the hug and laughing at your surprised squawk and Tim's further complaint.
Damian Wayne
Damian HATES this. With a burning passion, spewing death threats and curses to fill his swear jar every time it happens.
And it happens far too often for his tastes.
It happens at least once every time Grayson stops by, it happens every time Jason decides to grace the manor with his presence, Roy Harper even once had the nerve to join in on their 'imbecilic fun' when feeling especially bold once.
His father, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, even betrayed him by doing it once because "he wanted to see you smile". A ridiculous reason, not justified, and may or may not have put his father toward the bottom of his list of 'lifelong enemies'.
But he can't fault his father's reason. You did smile. Rather brightly at that. And while he wont say being swung around indignantly and "looking like an angry, murderous little kitten" as his brothers have called it, is worth his suffering, he does receive a hug each time and grumbles quietly before returning it.
The first time it happened to Damian is certainly memorable for everyone at the manor.
You had never expect Damian to join in on your boys' "I want to see my little boy!" tradition. Though all your other sons found great fun in doing so, all in their own fashion and happy to answer you call for company and a hug, despite how much Damian as grown in your time with him, you did not think this would be a line he would cross.
And he didn't, willingly.
You also figured if anyone tried this with him, it would've been Dick. Not only had he tossed airborn Jason and Tim at you in the past, but he was one of the few people Damian tolerated to a moderate extent, liked, even.
So when Jason came running down the hall with a screaming, murderous Damian flailing in his grip while held at arms length yelling death threats and promises of pain, it grabbed everyone's attention.
"Ma say you want to see your little boy! Ma say it quick!" It's urgent as he tries to dodge a swift kick without dropping Damian, leaping over a couch toward you as you finally snap out of your shock and laugh breathlessly.
"I want to see my little boy!" You can hardly contain yourself at how ridiculous and wonderful it is as Dick narrowly swipes a lamp out of Damian's grip just in time.
"Here he is!" Jason quickly dumps him onto your waiting arms, you hurriedly wrap him in a hug before he can lunge at Jason with fury.
Once Damian realizes it's you who's holding him back, both arms wrapped around his chest and trying to hide your snickering in his jacket, entire body shaking in effort, he slumps. Looking even more like a disgruntled little kitten accepting his fate. He can't risk hurting you, to kill his idiotic 'brothers', but he certainly wont admit he doesn't mind your hug either.
Tim managed to get the whole thing on camera, his sniggering in the background the entire time. It's one of your favorite family videos.
This is not a rare occurrence. In fact, anyone with the guts to try it (a few friends who may or may not have been dared into doing so) have brought you your little boy against their own safety. Damian is just so small, and carry-able.
#batmom#Batfam#DC comics#DC x reader#DC imagine#Batboys#Batboys x reader#Bruce Wayne x reader#Jason Todd Is A Mama's Boy#<- my Jason tag#Jason Todd#Dick Grayson#Tim Drake#Damian Wayne#my stuff
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I always see people saying that Bart Allen is the social butterfly and Tim Drake is the socially awkward one. And while I do not know enough about Bart to have an opinion on him, y'all are so wrong about Tim.
Ma boi was raised by Jack and Janet Drake. People who can afford to buy the manor next to the Wayne's. They own a multi-million company. They're old money.
What I'm trying to say is, Tim is a socialite kid. He knows what to do, how to talk, what smiles to give to old ladies in diamond earrings and the strength with which to shake possible investor's hands so they don't feel threatened or underwhelmed.
Just like Bruce has his Brucie Wayne persona, Tim has Timothy Drake, good convertionalist, straight-A student, the perfect heir and eventually the perfect CEO/shareholder/whatever he is to WE because at this point I've lost track.
Also I love the idea of Damian seeing this at their first gala together finding it absolutely bewildering, because as a person Tim is barely a functional human being and as a vigilante RR has the social skills of a wet paper bag unless dealing with victims, but as Timothy he is this smooth talking, charming bastard who can win everyone's heart at a gala in a couple hours. Damian had gone into that gala expecting his brother to make a fool of himself over and over again, maybe even make it to the magazine covers for falling into the chocolate fountain or something. But for the first time in years, Damian is scared because it has to be some sort of witchcraft to change personalities so easily and Father, run a tox screen on Drake because there is clearly something wrong with him–
Just. Socially competent Tim Drake + little gremlin Damian who is in awe.
#dc robin#dc#dc universe#tim drake#timothy drake#damian wayne#damian al ghul#batfamily#batfam#batman#red robin#robin#batman and robin#tim and damian#batbros#rambles
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The Ares/Waterland section of the book has been my favourite part for a long time. Not only did this episode do justice to it as an adaptation, it improved upon it in SO many ways.
Ares becoming likeable (which is SCARY) and being the one to set Percy against Gabe, Hephaestus and Annabeth's connection, the visuals of the Love Ride, Grover's plan (whatever the hell THAT is, I am INVESTED), the use of "What is Love?" (second best use of it since Black Panther), the theme of family and found family seriously being delved into...
I love how Percy and Annabeth being in the tunnel actually gained real romantic will-they-won't-they tension due to the hug, which Percy says could be platonic but those who haven't read the books won't know for sure! Plus, it's not just an "ew boy and girl on love trip ew" joke which was always so lame to me in that book.
And again, Show!Ares being likeable and funny is SO much more engaging than his book counterpart (who, imo, is just kind of a War from Good Omens clone). Because I got so sucked into that performance and his dialogue that I forgot who he was and then he got SUPER scary REALLY fast. That's really really good acting and writing.
Maybe it's just because I'm a huge Psych fan and seeing Timothy Omundson alone got me but truly, I almost cried a little?!? This episode was major improvement from the book and I cannot wait for more.
#still wish the importance of the Oracle was tackled more#but the action and dialogue balance was so improved in this episode!#and as yall know that was my main gripe#what a wonderful episode#im so happy#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo#pjo tv show#percy jackson spoilers
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DC x DP au
Ra’s successfully clones Tim, ages the clone up to Tim’s current age, but the clone won’t fucking wake up. There’s brain activity, but the Lazarus solution he’d been shoving into the body seemed to prevent it from having a soul, so to speak.
He makes a deal with a demon, and manages to piss the demon off.
The demon, feeling offended, decides to play By The Letter of the Law.
Okay, sure. He’ll shove a soul in the body. A strong soul, per the deal. But Ra’s, you never specified if the soul had to be strictly human, which the Ghost King very much was not anymore. Annnnnd maybe the demon kinda also felt like the High King of Ghosts could use a break after three hundred years of non-stop bureaucracy.
So a very surprised Danny, who had followed his good buddy Beelzebub and that asshole had fucking promised him an adventure, wakes up in a human body. Again. And he isn’t a halfa, he’s just human with ghost powers, and he feels a pull to obey this obviously evil guy in green? Also there’s like ecto-contaminated water everywhere and that’s weird.
The dude just ordered him to Gotham so like, sure. Danny’d take the fuckin get out of jail free card, cities were easy to vanish in.
Danny escapes, Tim finds out he exists, and they hatch a plan.
A trail is laid out, spanning decades, and the pieces are put in place.
Danny moves into Wayne Manor, Tim stays in his penthouse, and they randomly trade places.
The plan?
According to every single legal paper in existence, Daniel Janus Drake and Timothy Jackson Drake have always been identical twins. All online info has been doctored, including photos. Bruce’s adoption papers have been copied and altered, making it so that he adopted Daniel as well as Timothy.
Both Danny and Tim have the same training (thank you CADMUS tech for the brain download tech) and the same memories (at least concerning Tim’s life). They both know how to fight, and the only difference is that one of them is a meta, which was included on the documents they made.
They divide up the time with the Batfam from Tim’s memories, deciding which event they’d say was Danny and which was Tim that had attended.
All they have to do is switch when convenient and cover for each other, and see how long it takes for the Batfam to realize that there’s fucking two of them, and watch the Batfam tear themselves apart arguing over whether or not they’d always known who was Danny and who was Tim.
Cass figures it out first, of course.
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The Farmer's Daughter 9
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.
Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.
“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”
“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”
“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.
“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”
“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.
“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”
“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”
You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”
“Don't I know it. He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”
You exhale, “mom.”
“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”
“Ma, you don't know–”
“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”
“Oh, ma–”
“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”
“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.
“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.
“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”
“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”
You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.
🌾
Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.
As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?
He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.
He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.
“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”
“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”
His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”
You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”
“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly.
Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”
“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.
He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.
“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”
“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.
“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”
“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.
“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”
“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.
“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”
“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”
“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”
“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you.
“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”
“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”
You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.
#walter marshall#dark walter marshall#dark!walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#drabble#night hunter#the farmer's daughter#series#au#backwoods au
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Her name is Drake, Tim Drake.
Except, unlike Bond, James Bond, she’s not a badass who saves queens and get the girls at the end. Well, no, she did get the very amazing woman at the end, and she had the ring to prove it. But not right now. No, right now, she’s a tiny little girl in the middle of a mental breakdown as her parents cart her away from the bodies of the flying Graysons and their wailing son.
See, Tim Drake wasn’t supposed be a girl. Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be Theodora Janet Drake, shortened to Timmy because her air headed jackass of a father forgot her name once.
Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be a woman shoved into a body that wasn’t hers.
By the time Timmy got out her catatonic state of existential crisis, her parental units (faulty parental units) had already left to a dig site a world away. The nanny they’d hired for the three year old had left the slip of a girl in her room, content to just make edible toddler food and spend the day casually checking in on her. The nanny had no concept of stealth, so at least Timmy could hear her thundering footsteps long before she got to Timmy’s room.
She would have been sad, had she not had a full set of memories of a well adjusted adult. In fact, all she felt was relief.
As weird as being comic book character is, Timmy supposed that she should be glad she wasn’t like the original. The dysphoria was already significant, in this tiny body, so pale and white, unlike her calloused and tanned skin she’d come to love. If she was in Tim Drake’s male body…
No, Timmy knew when to count her blessings.
Not that being beholden to Gotham was much of a blessing. Timmy could tell already that whatever had brought her here was going to make sure she stayed. How did she know?
There’s a gamer’s interface hovering on the right of her vision, blaring [WELCOME TO GOTHAM, PLAYER 1!] in annoyingly large white letters.
Timmy sighed and gave in. She tapped the ‘start’ button and the world greyed to a stop.
[ACHIEVEMENT- SO I’M IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE- MET!]
Underneath it, to Timmy’s tired mind, laid the damning and probably helpful:
[TUTORIAL UNLOCKED!]
Timmy tapped the screen again.
[Welcome to Gotham!] The informational screen started. [By now, you’ve realized that you’ve been reincarnated into the lovely and not at all depressing world of Batman!]
Timmy muttered, “Just Batman? Not DC?” She blinked as the informational screen paused its typing before replying to her.
[Right now, you’ve only got the Gotham mode unlocked. Work hard and you can unlock the rest of the world! Maybe even the universe!]
Huh. An interactive interface. Timmy wonders why she’s so calm about this.
[That will all be explained shortly! Please allow for the tutorial to continue and make sure to save your questions for the end!]
Well, Timmy doesn’t want to be rude. She nodded. Interestingly, the interface picked up on both her thoughts and her movements.
[Welcome to Gotham!] It starts again, and Timmy felt a bit of guilt in making it start over. It’s like getting cold called and the caller is just a tired person trying to make their quota for minimum wage and instead of patiently listening to the spiel, Timmy had interrupted so now they had to restart the rehearsed speech. Oof.
[You’ve been reincarnated into the body of our very own Red Robin, Timothy Drake! How exciting! The powers that be, was, and will be has selected your lucky soul to be a beta tester for their relatively new reincarnation roulette!]
See, none of that sounds particularly… “good” for Timmy. Timmy hums as she settled back on the greyed out floor, eyes fixed onto the screen.
[As such, to be the first player deposited in this universe-]
And oh, doesn’t that have some interesting implications.
[The powers that be have decided to grant you a boon! The Gamer’s Exclusive Ultra Package!]
The interface exploded with holographic confetti.
Timmy thought her wife would have loved this… had she not died months before Timmy did.
[Included is the exclusive Gamer’s Mind and Body passive status! You won’t be as traumatized by traumatizing things! A boon, in the hellscape that is Gotham!]
Timmy’s calling it. Whoever wrote this was a total troll. And had a sense of humor she could appreciate. That explained why she’s so… not freaking out about this entire thing.
[It also includes ten lucky draw tickets, with guaranteed five star skills/abilities per ticket! Wow! It’s almost worth getting killed and isekai’ed!]
Timmy snorted and tapped accept.
[And two revival tickets! These can bring any Schmuck dumb enough to get killed, right back to life, with zero drawbacks! To be used on anyone you wish, post tutorial.]
Timmy tilted her head. Useful. She tapped accept.
[Now, you might wonder: ah, why would the de oh so awesome and all powerful gods make me reincarnate here instead of allowing me to enjoy my afterlife with my beautiful wife?]
Timmy stilled, heart in her throat. That’s right… why?
The screen turned red. Ominously, smoke starts to steam out from the side.
[You’ve got blood on your hands, Timmy. That’s hard to wash away.]
The screen blinked back to its neutral blueish-white color.
[That, and it’s because the Powers that be made an oopsie and messed up this world so bad, we needed a soul from a different universe to replace Tim Drake’s. He kept dying! Which meant Batman kept dying! Which meant the entire universe went to shit! But we can’t just cut it off, it’s a main Universe! But nooo, does anyone listen to the admins? Noooo. Of course not! What does the literal administrator know in the face of an all powerful god-!]
Timmy blinked, sympathy welling for this person. This administrator. That sounded rough.
[Ahem. My apologies.] The admin apologized, somehow conveying sheepishness through a screen. Timmy got a notification.
[ACHIEVEMENT- COMMISERATING WITH A CO-WORKER- MET!]
[1,000 Shop Points Granted. Message: You’ve worked under tyrannical bosses too! Kindred Soul!]
“Yeah, it be like that. I’m sorry you had to clean up their messes.” Timmy said.
[I, too, am sorry you were dragged from your afterlife for it.]
The two overworked employees shared a solemn moment.
[Well, then! This brings us to your goal! Keep Batman from killing himself, and fulfill Timothy Drake’s Destiny!]
“And what is his destiny, exactly?”
[To keep Batman from dying, becoming a crime-fighter, get beat up by Jason Todd, and destroy Ra’s al Ghul’s work with explosions!]
“That’s… really specific. I just have to fulfill those?”
[Yes! Not in any particular order, of course. And in any way you see fit!]
That last part was italicized, like the admin knew what was brewing in Timmy’s brain. They probably did.
[And now, please direct your attention to the screen to the right. ]
Four boxes popped up.
SHOP
LUCKY DRAW
QUESTS
PROFILE
[Underneath “Quest” is all of your current objectives! For now, the Tutorial is selected and can not be put on hold!]
Timmy obligingly tapped “QUEST.”
Main Quest: Get Your Shit Together, Batman!
Main Quest: Jason Todd and His “E is rated for Everyone” Hands!
Main Quest: No Crime Under My Watch!
Main Quest: Play Bomberman With A Bunch Of Ninja Assassins Led By A Borderline Immortal Cult Leader!
Main Quest: Tutorial!
Side Quest: Level Up!
Side Quest: Learn a Skill!
Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye!
And so on, and so on.
“Woah. Nanny Nye-Bye?” Timmy tapped, clicking away at the reminder that Tutorial could not be paused.
[Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye.]
[Your nanny has been embezzling the allowance your parents gave her to feed you! Since your bourgeoisie parents have no sense of how much things should actually cost to eat, you’re stuck eating boxed food and unhealthy things while your nanny goes out for hotpot every other week! The injustice! Get her fired before the month ends!]
[Rewards: 1000 EXP. An approving nod from the scary Draconic Janet Drake. $800 per month.]
[Failure: -2 (permanent) to Health. Your status will be [Malnourished] until 17 years old. A disproving glance from the scary Draconic Janet Drake.]
…
“What the ****?”
[Language filters are unlocked at level five.]
Timmy grumbled.
“What if I need to curse to complete my missions?” She asked.
[Then Player One needs to buy herself a sense of creativity.]
Timmy scowled but moved on. She perused the shop, window shopping as one might say, while asking the Admin some more questions.
“Does the Keep Batman Alive quest have a time limit?”
[Until Damian Wayne has had at least four years of being Robin.]
Timmy nodded, brain whirring with plans.
“Hey, admin?”
[Yes, Player One?]
“If I’m player one, does that mean there will be other players?”
[Yes, Player One. There will be more! But unlike you, their abilities will be based on your feedback of the reincarnation system. Not to mention, they will not be reborn as a predetermined Main Character like yourself. This is because your existence was a result of a cosmic oopsie that had better never happen again or I’m going to rip their star-riddled hides from their cosmic bodies. Does that answer your question, Player One?]
Timmy leaned away from the screen. Intimidating.
“Yep. Thanks.”
[Anytime. Would you like to play the Lucky Draw?]
“Yes, please.”
The Luck Draw Menu was pulled up again. Timmy looked at the amount of tickets she had and shrugged. She tapped the “DRAW ONE” option.
The gacha machine spun and spun until:
[DING! DING! DING! Congratulations! You got a five star skill! Eloquence Beyond Measure!]
Timmy checked it out.
Eloquence Beyond Measure!
[As expected of a true Bristol elite (and not one of those snotty snobs of children running afoot with their parent’s money), you’ve gained the ability to spit fire and ice out of your mouth! What you want to say will always come out of your in a way that benefits you most! Diplomats kneel to your eloquence! Socialites dare not provoke you in fear of your barbed words! You’ll never sound like you don’t know what you’re doing ever again!]
Huh. Timmy grinned.
“Thanks, Administrator. Is the tutorial done? I just had an idea about that Nanny Side-Quest.”
[The last task is to check your profile, Player One.]
“Thanks. You can call me Timmy, you know? We’re in this together now.” Timmy grimaced. She just wanted to rest. Chances are, so did Admin.
[Timmy, then.]
Timmy tapped PROFILE.
Theodora “Timmy” Janet Drake
Level 1 (EXP to Next Level: 500)
Status: Healthy. Alive. Uninjured.
SKILLS: Eloquence Beyond Measure
[STATS]
Timmy sighed and exited out of the window to finish the tutorial. She could peruse the stats later. She’s kind of hungry.
[Now that you’ve finished the basics, the powers that be encourages you to try your best to live out this life and fulfill your destiny! The Prize at the completion of Tim Drake’s destiny will be a reunion! With your beloved wife! Work hard, and she’ll be placed on this earth once more!]
Timmy sat up, throat burning. She could see her wife again? To tell her how she missed her and how much she loved her?
Timmy’s heart burned once more since the death of her wife.
Determination filled her now small body. She’ll wrangle the Bats to therapy kicking and screaming if that’s what it took to meet her beloved wife again.
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’VE FINISHED THE TUTORIAL! LEVEL UP! (1000 EXP TO LEVEL THREE)]
[REWARD: A PHONE! 100 SHOP POINTS!]
Timmy dialed the first contact she saw in the phone.
“Hello, this is Theodora Drake. Might I speak to my mother?” Her three year old voice smoothed out, suddenly eloquent and powerful in a way it simply wasn’t before. Eloquence Beyond Measure was proving useful already.
“Yes, of- of course, Miss Drake. Please hold.”
She waited.
“Theodora. What is it, daughter? You know better than to interrupt our digs.”
“Mother, it has come to my attention that my nanny is embezzling money from you. I have been eating boxed mac n’ cheese and only that for the past three days. They cost four dollars each. I would hate for my growth to be stunted.”
Two days later, Janet Drake and Jack Drake stormed into the mansion and threw out the nanny. Janet gives her an approving nod at her sudden eloquence (wow, these people had no idea what children were supposed to be like) and gave her a credit card to use freely.
Rich people. Honestly.
Timmy’s sly gaze was highlighted by the invisible glow of the congratulations banner.
#timothy drake#scheming tim drake#tim drake#reincarnation#reincarnated as Timothy drake#female tim drake#Timmy drake#Batman#gamer fic#the admin is cursing out their bosses#Timmy Drake and her ‘you should have specified’ mind set#Timmy Drake risking it all for the sapphic love of her life
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The Wayne's Nanny
Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader
Chapters
Ao3
9 to 5 (Metaphorically)
You had been working for Bruce Wayne for two weeks, and could for sure say that the kids were sweet, though a little out of touch with reality. Whether that was due to their father being the absolute weirdest man on the planet or from how rich they were— You didn’t know. Nonetheless, the days were long and tiresome. You wondered how you ever got through it.
8:15
First and foremost, you had to get up extremely early to see the kids off to school.
You fixed Cassandra’s headband on her head, making sure she looked perfect, before moving to fix Duke’s tie. Turning on your heel, your pink bathrobe swaying as you did, you quickly stopped Tim from pulling Jason’s hair.
“What did I tell you about pulling hair, Timothy Jackson Drake?” You put your hands on your hips.
With pink cheeks, he mumbled, “That karma will make me bald.”
“That’s right, and the last thing we want is to look like Lex Luthor, right kids?”
“Right!” They all mumbled.
Upon his approach, Mr. Wayne seemed pleased with how you managed the kids, even if it was in a less-than-professional way. When you fully turned your attention to him, you grinned, showing off his children. They looked good and healthy—Just as they did before your arrival, the only difference was that he wasn’t as tired.
“Okay, sweet babies, give daddy a kiss before Alfred takes you to school,” You ushered the kids toward their father.
Dick offhandedly said to Alfred, “Did I miss the wedding?” You lightly swatted the back of his head while Bruce was kissing the other children goodbye.
Slowly, the kids trickled out of the door, all of them saying goodbye over their shoulders. Now, you were left alone with Bruce and Damian, who sat securely on his hip.
The moment you turned to the two of them, Damian broke out into a bashful smile. You cooed to him, calling him the sweetest boy on the planet. Finally, you noticed Mr. Wayne again, “You should just leave him here with me. We’ll have such a fun time, huh, buddy?”
Bruce smiled at his boy, pushing his black locks back before addressing you. “No doubt, but I want him to socialize with other kids. The preschool at work is a fine one, too, and today is ice cream day.”
“Oh, my, then don’t let me hold you back! Let me get a kiss real quick,” A surprised look crossed Bruce’s face, but he slowly started to lean his cheek toward you. You swatted him away, making Damian giggle. “Not you!” You blew a raspberry against the boy’s cheek, causing a shrill laugh.
Before you could just snatch the little boy from his father’s grasp so he could stay with you, Bruce adjusted him on his hip before addressing you again. “You have enough to do for the day?”
You waved a dismissive hand at him, most of your attention still on Damian. “Oh, sure, my schedule is booked.”
9:50
Secondly, you made yourself presentable.
No one wants to see their employee running around in their slippers and bathrobes—Plus, Bruce already got onto about not dressing appropriately when some company had come over earlier that week. Luckily, being employed by one of the richest men in Gotham meant one thing; You could finally afford the champagne taste you had.
The only drawback? Beauty took time, so you spent a good chunk of the morning just making yourself ready to be ready.
You had to go through your entire skincare routine (of course, after lounging around in the big bathtub with the jets) before you finally went to your closet to pick out your clothes. Once you had something you decided did finally move on to your makeup. Not that you needed any, you thought, but there was no harm in adding beauty to beauty.
Eventually, the process of actually looking presentable came to a close and lunch was just around the corner. So, getting up, you looked at yourself one more time.
It was hard work being beautiful, but, damn it all, if you didn’t do a good job of it.
11:45
Of course, after you got ready you had to eat something, so, while Alfred meal prepped dinner, you sat while dishing out all the latest gossip.
As you shuffled a sandwich in your mouth, he told you all about Mr. Wayne’s previous relationship with someone named Selina and how it ended in absolute heartbreak. Supposedly, Bruce had been so heartbroken that he could hardly get out of bed and remained a recluse for months afterward. Alfred’s words, not yours.
“Oh, so not much has changed?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Alfred tried to hold back a laugh and leaned forward to quietly add, “This was three years ago.”
You smiled. “So I was right, not much has changed!"
Alfred snickered, turning to peel some more potatoes, and you took the opportunity to tell him your woes with love. It was a deep, tragic tale that could jerk the tears from any eye.
Except for Alfred’s, apparently.
When you were done, he filled you in on an even better story. One about the richest of the rich in Gotham, and every word he said had you hanging on by a thread. If you hadn’t met Alfred before, you would have never guessed that he was the kind of man to eavesdrop or have a big mouth. But, damn, if you weren’t thankful for it.
It certainly was the most entertaining and interesting part of your job.
1:30
After lunch came the hardest tasks. Usually, you cleaned the gaming room for the kids, did some laundry—mainly yours since the kids’ clothes were already washed— and watched TV. Again, it was all in a day’s work.
After vacuuming the rugs, you put away the kids’ toys, wondering momentarily just how much money Mr. Wayne spent on them. Looking at the designer clothes they wore, the latest toys, and gaming devices, you assumed it was well more than what you made in a year. When you had enough of staring at their expensive toys, you ventured into the laundry room.
Luckily, there wasn't a lot to wash, only some towels along with Dickie’s gymnastics clothes. When you had done the last load, you found yourself settling into one of the lounge chairs in the movie room.
This was your favorite part of the day, where it lulled just enough for you to relax again. The kids wouldn’t be home for another hour due to traffic, so you had to whole place to yourself.
Alfred sometimes joined you with a bowl of popcorn, but, since it was so close to picking up the kids from school he had to opt-out. At home, you would have been watching one of those usual daytime soaps, but Alfie had started to put you on EastEnders—claiming it was better than any other trash American daytime TV show. It was only after one character had a whole dramatic flare over the smallest inconvenience, did you started to see why it was his, and Bruce’s too, favorite show. He made you watch so much of it that you had started to pick up some of the British slang, which did not amuse him or Mr. Wayne.
You watched until an idea popped into your head. The kids would be hungry once they got home, as they usually were, so you decided it would be nice to make them their special snacks.
Happily, you put it all together, and, when the kids came home, you were excited to see their reaction.
3:45
It was almost like clockwork the way they always managed to arrive home exactly at the same time every day.
You greet all of them with a big hug as you tell them about the treats they had waiting in the dining room. Excited, they were pleased to see that, while Alfred was out picking them up, you had gone out of your way to make their favorite treats.
Tim grabbed his plate and exclaimed loudly that you were by far the best nanny they ever had. A few of the other kids agreed, and you tried to not let it go to your head so quickly. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree with them.
They told you all about school, which, ultimately, just turned into a PG gossiping session. Tim told you all about this one kid, who was almost two years older than him, who always called him names and pulled his hair. Almost instantly, based on the last little detail, did you figure it out. Turning around, you looked at the second eldest Wayne who, despite being so sweet, could be devious and a little mean from time to time.
“Jason Peter Todd, you need to stop being mean to your brother. And what did I say about hair-pulling? At your age, you should know better!”
Jason gasped, looking around to gain some sympathy. “Why do you think it’s me?”
You cocked an eyebrow and that’s what made the cookie crumble. He confessed that maybe it was him and that he wouldn’t do it again. The rest of the table took their time calling him the future Lex Luthor, much to his annoyance.
You thought yourself lucky to be the nanny of such sweet kids, even if they were a bit weird. It brought back some happiness in your life that you didn’t know you were missing.
As the plates started to stack, you clapped your hands together and said, “Alright kiddos, once you’re done with your snacks, get your homework out. The faster you get it done, the faster we can all go play games.”
5:00
Finally, Mr. Wayne came home.
When he did, the entire house seemed to be in a clamor to get to him first. At least, the younger ones did. Dick and Cassandra seemed more interested if he had brought home any treats for them. When there was none, they turned on their heels and retreated into their respective tasks. That didn’t seem to discourage him though, and he was almost playful with the rest of the children.
When Bruce had thrown Duke over one shoulder and Tim over the other as Jason trailed after them, you took Damian. He had a pout on his lips, and tears in the corner of his eyes. When you asked him what was wrong, Damian informed you that ice cream day had been canceled because, in his words, the teachers were mean.
“Fair enough,” You said, taking him to the kitchen. “How about this, we get some ice cream and watch some TV, huh?”
Damian was close to crying, probably just as exhausted from the day as you were, but nodded his head. You gave him another kiss and let him rest his head on your shoulder. After you plucked a little ice cream sandwich from the fridge, the two of you went to join the rest of the family in the gaming room.
Bruce was there, tie and jacket abandoned, sitting on the couch playing Dick in Mortal Kombat. It didn’t look like Mr. Wayne knew exactly how to play, but he was getting the hang of it. Now and then, when there was a particular point he didn’t understand, Duke, being the sweetest yet odd kid ever, whispered to him what to do. Why a six-year-old knew how to play a game he was far too young for, you didn’t know.
Looking down at Damian, it was clear to see just how sleepy he was and you started to get up to put him in his room when Alfred stopped you. He offered to take the boy up and gestured over to Cassandra, who was looking at you with her big brown eyes.
“Hello, sweet girl,” You said as soon as Damian was gone.
Cassandra, who was sitting on the floor with a ballerina Barbie in hand, walked on her knees over to you. “Can you braid my hair?”
You grinned, looking at her pretty black hair. It was short, cut just below her shoulder, but you could make something work. She plopped down right in front of you and immediately you began to play with her hair.
Amidst playing his game, Mr. Wayne looked over in your direction to admire you and Cassandra. When you caught his eye, you winked and smiled. Bashfully, he looked back at the game. Unfortunately for him, Tim saw the whole interaction and started to loudly poke fun at his father.
Ultimately, that’s how the day went. It was a lot of work, and, again, you didn’t know how you did it. Yet, you were glad that it almost always ended so happily.
It wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five—It was better.
#jason todd#red hood#bruce wayne#batfamily#jason todd fanfiction#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#alfred pennyworth#cassandra cain#duke thomas#clark kent#tim drake#damian wayne#dick grayson#robin#nightwing#batman#dc batman#superman#batfam#batfamily x reader#batfamily and reader
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Hey, its Ominoose, your all time biggest fan here. Blue time.
You're a patient at the hospital, his favourite, he's always possessive. A new guy joins the staff and tries it with you, either flirting or getting handsy. Blue finds out, gets possessive. Maybe coddles you a bit ?? Idk, just... Blue <3
Orderly!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info •
A/N: Firstly @ominoose you are far too kind, secondly I'm sorry this took so long, thirdly I’m so sorry Blue is fucking insane in this.
He’s jealous! He’s whiney! He's a warning in himself!
Warnings: overuse of italics, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a patient, swearing, also I haven't proof read this correctly because I just can't look at it any longer, please let me know if I've missed a warning.
Word Count: 2079
________________________________
“It’s time to go in.” Timothy’s voice made you jump. He was pretty nice, for an orderly. He’d only started two weeks ago and already he had half of the patients swooning and making heart eyes at him. Just over the fact that he seemed vaguely kind, and not the sort of person that would push someone under a bus for the fun of it.
“Oh,” you closed your book, lightly bending the corner to mark your page. They didn’t let you have bookmarks in here, ‘weapons’ apparently. Though how you could do more damage than a paper cut was beyond you.
“Sorry.” You mumble as you get up from your spot under the tree, you hadn’t heard the pips which normally alerted you to the end of outside time.
Timothy smiles and shakes his head. “It’s okay, no problem, I could see you were absorbed in your book.” His expression is soft, caring. “Is it good?”
You nod, eyeing him with a little uncertainty.
“It’s nice to see patients reading, I think it’s really calming, you know?” He smiles again, tilting his head to the side and taking a fraction of a step closer. “I’ll take you in,” he places his hand on your bicep gently, just to guide you towards the door. All the other patients have gone inside already.
“I see you reading a lot, you must like it huh?” He says good-naturedly.
“There’s not a lot else to do.” You say softly when he looks to you for an answer.
Timothy laughs kindly, “Well, that and getting better I guess?”
“Hmm.” While he seemed harmless enough, you knew from experience that it was always better to err on the side of caution with orderlies, especially new ones. And even more so with ones that seemed friendly.
He pauses, haunting your movements with the hand on your arm. “You know, you should smile a bit.”
Ah. There it was.
You frown.
“I mean,” he blushes a little and runs his free hand through his hair. “Not like that, do what you want, of course. I just heard that smiling releases happy chemicals you know? Makes you feel happy even if you’re just doing the expression.”
Oh.
You look at him carefully, scrutinising for any malice and find none. You smile a little and nod. Maybe he’s-
“McCarthy!” Blue bellows from across the courtyard, his voice snapping against you like a whip.
Timothy visually jumps at the sound of his last name, turning quickly, but not letting go of your arm. Blue marches over. His eyes seem brighter than usual, gleaming with a mad, impulsive energy that rolls off him in waves.
Timothy audibly gulps as Blue stops in front of him.
Blue smiles, all teeth like a chimp bearing a warning. “What are you doing?” He says calmly.
“I, I was just taking them inside.”
Blue doesn’t even look at you. “Why?”
“It’s, erm, it’s time to go in?” He shifts a little nervously.
Blue leans a fraction closer, dropping his voice dangerously low. “Is it?”
Timothy gulps and nods, wide-eyed.
“Take your fucking hand off their arm.” He growls.
Timothy lets go of you as if he’s been burnt, stepping back, holding his hands up in apology.
Blue clenches his jaw, his shoulders pulled back and begins to stalk forward, closing the gap and removing the slither of space Timothy tried to place between them.
“Blue,” you whisper, low and soft, as you brush against his forearm with your little finger.
His attention snaps to you instantly, the tension leaking out of his expression.
“It’s okay.” You nod at him, keeping your voice that same gentle quiet tone.
He grabs hold of your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles before looking back to Timothy and giving him a glare that could have easily stripped flesh from bone. “Get back to your post.”
Timothy didn’t have to be told twice.
He scampered back, rushing through the door and not even giving either of you a glance over his shoulder.
You squeeze Blue’s hand back. “You’re not going to have any more new staff if you keep terrifying them like that.”
He doesn’t listen to you, his muscles tense as he lightly traces the place where Timothy’s hand had been. “Why was he touching you?”
“He was taking me back inside.”
“And you let him?” He glances up at you with dangerous eyes.
You nod. In your heart of hearts you know he understands why you couldn’t refuse.
His grip on your arm tightens ever so slightly. “Why?”
“Would you rather I had, and been put in solitary?”
His expression softens again and he shakes his head ever so slightly. “He wouldn’t have dared.” He whispers, so quiet you can barely make out the words.
Suddenly he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer and pulling up the sleeve of your t-shirt so he can get to your skin.
You yelp in surprise as he bites your arm, sinking his teeth into the spot where Timothy's hand had rested moments previously, before he soothes the spot with his tongue. Instantly you flinch back, but he holds you firm as he sucks a hasty love bite into your skin.
His chin is a mess with salvia when he pulls back, his fingers digging into you.
You barely get a chance to open your mouth, to intake a quick gulp of air before he’s yanking you towards him, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and forcing his mouth onto yours.
Despite the frenzied heat, the kisses are soft, careful as he slides his tongue into your mouth and presses his body flush against yours. He whimpers a little as you kiss him back, nipping a little at your bottom lip and pressing his warm palm against your lower back so that you have nowhere to escape to as he grinds his half-hard cock between your legs.
It takes him a moment longer than you thought it would for him to stop, pull back a fraction, breathing hard. For a second you think he’s remembered himself, remembered that you’re both in the middle of the grounds with the asylum's large windows looking down on both of you. But the glazed look in his eyes tells you that he doesn’t care.
“Don’t want him to touch you,” he mutters, tracing his fingers along your jawline.
“I know Blue.” You say soothingly.
“Don’t want anyone to touch you.” He kisses you again, three light, quick pecks to your lips. “Other people… they’re not careful. They don’t understand how to take care… they break things.” He shakes his head. “They’re not allowed to break my things.”
You lean a little closer, closing your eyes and rubbing your nose against his. “I know Blue.”
His kiss is harder this time, his fingers a touch too firm as he squeezes your jaw and holds you in place.
You don’t mind though, don’t care as you feel his fingers twitch, his grip relaxing as you lick into his mouth.
He pulls back a fraction, his warm breath hitting your cheeks. “Need to make you cum.” He mutters into your mouth, not giving you even a second to respond before he turns and marches back, further away from the asylum doors and pulling you along with him.
“Blue!” Your book slips out of your hands and you practically have to jog as he yanks on your arm, moving with a frenzied energy to the large, old oak tree you were sat underneath moments before.
He pulls you around so that you’re hidden from the asylum’s windows and pushes you up against the bark.
“My book-”
��I’ll get it in a sec’ baby,” he murmurs, his voice almost slurred as he gazes over your body, taking every detail in before he drops to his knees.
“I don’t think-”
“You don’t have to think.” He bites softly at your hip as he hurriedly pulls down your trousers and panties, yanking them off your right leg and not bothering to completely remove them from your left. “Just be good.” He mutters, his mouth thick with salvia. His fingers dig into your skin as he grabs hold of your right thigh and hoists it over his shoulder. Not even pausing before his mouth is on you.
Your breath leaves your lips as a whine as he licks, broad, fat swipes of his tongue through your folds and up to circle and tease your clit.
“Blue,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his shoulders so support as he repeats the action over and over again, digging his fingers into your thighs and urging you to buck into his face.
He moans against you as you say his name, swirling an extra circle around your clit before he’s dragging his tongue back down and up again. Groaning as he completely devours you.
The wet sounds are practically obscene, even without your building cries that you are trying your hardest to muffle, it would be obvious what the two of you were doing to anyone in the vague vicinity. But you quickly lost any residual thought of caring the second his mouth was on you.
He pushes you harder against the tree, practically forcing you onto tiptoes as your right leg squeezes against his back and pulls him closer.
He rakes his teeth over your bundle of nerves, chuckling at your little sharp intake of breath before he sucks on your clit like a man possessed.
You moan loudly, throwing your head back against the tree bark as your legs shake and nerve endings are flayed raw with pleasure. He keeps sucking, grinding his face against you as he pulls your orgasm from your body, giving you little say in the matter.
Your vision whites out for a second as your back arches, your fingers digging into and bruising his skin.
You barely have a moment to recover, the aftershock still running along your limbs as he pulls your leg from his shoulder and moves back. You nearly stumble for a second, weak without his support, but then his hands are around your thighs and spreading you wide as he pushes inside.
He groans as you gasp in surprise, grinning at the way your eyebrows pinch together. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, just presses until he is completely sheathed, his length splitting you wide open.
“Fuccck…” he moans and bucks shallowly, once, twice, before really starting to move. Setting a brutal, frantic pace that has you holding onto him for dear life as sparks of pleasure coil and glide out from your core.
“You take me so good baby, so good for me,” he kisses you hard, nuzzling into your cheek and neck as he pounds into you in a frenzy.
It’s like he has you memorised, every spot to make you scream, and cry, and beg for more, as he hits deliciously deep, angling his hips just so that you see stars with every thrust.
“Blue,” you moan into his mouth, feel him grin at how wrecked you sound. “I’m-”
He changes the tempo ever so slightly and you practically scream for him.
“That good, huh baby? Need my cock that much, hmm?”
You nod, unable to form words.
“Only my cock, yeah? Only me. No one else, no one else is gonna take care of you like this, no one else is gonna make this pussy feel so good, no one else is allowed.” He growls.
You gasp, pleasure building to a dizzying high. “Please, gonna cum, please.”
He whines, biting his lip, his voice softening despite the sudden increase of his thrusts. “Oh baby please, please, I need it. Please cum on my cock, please. Need you to cum, need you to feel good, let me make you cum,” thrust, “please,” thrust, “ just me,” thrust, “ just me,” thrust, “no one else.”
“Just you.” You manage to stammer out as bliss overtakes every thought, washing over you in waves and rippling across your very soul.
Blue lets out a strangled cry as you cum, your walls squeezing him so tightly, urging him deeper and pulling his own orgasm from his bones. He buries his face into your neck and bites down, his saliva socking into your t-shirt as he muffles his moans.
He stays close as you both recover, littering your face with kisses until you're giggling, and playfully trying to push his face away.
____________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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#blue jones#sucker punch#blue jones x reader#x reader#blue jones x you#x you#blue jones x female reader#x female reader#blue jones x f!reader#x f!reader#blue jones x fem!reader#x fem!reader#my writing#fanfic#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters#afab! Reader x blue jones#afab!reader
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Consequences
When he felt compelled to take over as Robin in order to save Batman from himself, Tim didn't have high expectations; he didn't expect to be adopted by Bruce, he didn't expect to acknowledge the fact that his parents were abusive by leaving him alone for months, he didn't expect anyone to care if he ate or not, and in general he didn't expect to gain a family.
And for a while he thought that everything would get better: he gained brothers, he had a caring father, he had no financial problems or had gotten sick; And yes, maybe Robin's patrols were harsh at first, maybe Bruce's words when he was angry reached his heart and hurt him deeply, but he was fine.
Until he wasn't, at some point he felt more abandoned than ever even though he was surrounded by his family. When he was talking to his boyfriend, he realized that everyone took him into account but no one really appreciated what he did.
At first he didn't understand why Danny looked at him concerned and kept asking if he was okay while he told him an anecdote from his life as a vigilante; they had known each other for a while (Alfred had noticed, the others hadn't), they started talking, dating in coffee shops and even revealed the fact of being vigilantes after a few months on a relationship, that's when they started sharing anecdotes with each other.
Danny mentioned that he was being a hypocrite for caring so much about his stories when his were just as bad. Tim didn't get it until he started to see things from another perspective.
He never realized how much it hurted how Bruce had never thanked him for helping when he was lost in time, or how Dick avoided talking about his Robin time by concentrating on Damian, he thought he could understand but that didn't make it any better, Jason's nickname was beginning to make sense.
He didn't realize how broken he felt when Jason tried to kill him and blamed him; He was his childhood hero, Tim loved Robin because Jason put him in the stars, however, no matter how many times he explained to his brother that the only reason he had taken the suit was because he had no choice, and that he felt forced to blackmail Batman to be his Robin before Bruce became what he hated most. Jason still didn't care, still called him Replacement over and over again, blaming.
Or Damian who kept trying to kill him, refusing to acknowledge him, and when he defended himself he ended up getting reprimanded. Not even Bruce thanked him for all the work he did in taking over the company as CEO. His entire family went on with their lives without repercussions.
Maybe he was being naive as he refused Danny's requests to run away from home and stay with him, at least for a few days so they would miss him. He felt like a broken record repeating the phrase "it's okay, they're trying, they can change", the look on his boyfriend's face told him he wasn't doing a good job on believing his own words.
The mansion made him feel small at times, ignored; it was fortunate that Alfred was actually paying attention to him and offering a cup of hot chocolate at such moments.
At some point he couldn't take it anymore, Jason and Damian's comments had gone too far, Bruce's lack of response along with Dick's laughter commenting that they weren't saying it in a bad way only made him angry, so he left the cave and called to Danny, he told him it was time to go.
He said goodbye to Alfred, Cass, Duke and Steph who had generally not contributed to his decision, and he regretted that he couldn't stay longer to get to know them better, but the damage had been building up for a long time.
He wrote a letter detailing his reasons to the rest of the family, leaving along some clues to let them know that he had left of his own free will and they wouldn't be able to find him even if they wanted to, he sighed as his anger turned to resignation.
"Are you ready?" Danny questioned, taking his hand gently as they walked out of the mansion.
"Ready as I'll ever be"
That's how Timothy Jackson Drake said goodbye to his home dimension and headed to the infinite realms, of course he was going to sneak in a couple of times to help his friends but never when his family is around. He hadn't expected the life in the palace or the marriage proposal that came years later, but although the place was gigantic, Tim felt good in it, comfortable, appreciated.
Time in the Realms passed quite quickly, unlike his original dimension, so years for him were a couple of months for his family.
He found it ironic that Danny was summoned as the Ghost King by Ra, who had the nerve to order the "creature" to give him the secrets of the Lazarus pits, offering the Batclan as sacrifices. Tim looked at the time portal connected to his home dimension (That Clockwork had given him to watch his family and friends, even if he was upset he was not going to let them die) wondering if he should interfere.
It was decided when Danny called Fright Knight to deal with the nuisance that was Ra, and he accompanied him as a royal adviser (regardless of his second title as ruler, he actually liked being a part of strategizing better and Danny was happy to give in to his wishes).
With a weary sigh he crossed the portal and began to recite Ra's crimes, indicating how he had damaged the balance between life and death since he corrupted the ectoplasm on the Lazarus pits to extend his life at the same time that Frighty stopped the man.
No one in the room bothered to pay attention to the stupefied bats who were watching the missing member of his family, but years older, that apparently was the Ghost King royal adviser. They tried to call him but Tim just gave them an annoyed look before continuing with his work.
By the time Fright Knight took Ra completely chained through the portal, they finally saw the ghost king move, he started kissing Tim's face repeatedly, which had turned his frown into laughter.
The moment they finally processed the scene they both disappeared, and well, weren't those the consequences of their own actions?
----
Thanks to @unadulteratedsoulsweets for the general idea, I enjoyed writing this! Even if it ended up a little bigger than I expected
#batman#detective comics#dp x dc#tim drake#danny phantom#danny fenton#dc x dp#ghost king danny#tired Tim#Tim needs a hug#and a lot of compliments#Look he was not going to seat down on the throne and do nothing#So he ended up being part of the council#He helps with ideas and strategies#Tim Drake Phantom the royal councilor#He visits the good members of his family sometimes#Alfred likes those visits#The rest of the batfam is regretting how they treated him#They need him but is too late#he visits his friends too#Kon is literally a frequent visitor on the Realms because of him#dead tired#danny fenton x tim drake#brain dead#red robin#batfam#batfamily
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His Weakness
Fandom: The Rookie
Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader
Y/n= Your name
L/n= Last Name
N/n= Nickname
S/n= Special Nickname
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns, Little spaced!reader, kissing, shitty writing?, it's a BBF so Y/n's brother's name will be Ryan, people know Ryan and Tim are good friends but don't know you and Tim get along this well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If before today someone had told anyone who hadn't witnessed the two of you interact that Timothy Bradford had never been rude to you, they wouldn't have believed them.
*Y/n's POV*
As I walked into the precinct with two lunches in my right hand and a container of cookies in the left I made my way over to the front desk.
"Hello, how can- Y/N! Pleasure as always! You here to see Ryan?" Kai, Ryan's Boyfriend asked with a bright smile
"And his side piece!" I feigned offence as I held up the lunches
"Awe, Tim isn't in at the moment but you can go see Ryan and then draw at Tim's desk till he gets back!"
"Works for me!" I smile and make my way over to my brother. As I walk by people they smile and wave, knowing me from Ryan of course, Angela and Jackson stopped to actually say hello.
*Angela's POV*
After a few minutes of talking with Y/n, we heard her brother call
"N/n!" I had just put my bottle of water up to my lips when I heard the most beautiful word.
"Hey Ryan, I made you and Timmy-" I didn't hear the rest because I had spit near all of the water in my mouth on West and doubled over in laughter
"Are you okay?" Y/n ran the 20 feet back over to me worried
"I'm great!" I eased her mind, and she reluctantly left me and went to Tim's desk with Ryan, he ate while she quietly drew with the blue, red, and black pens Tim had in his pencil holder.
*Tim's POV*
I walked into the precinct after telling Chen to book the douchebag we got
"Tim, she's at your desk!" Kai called I didn't notice the huge smile on my face until-
"Aww, Timmy's smiling!" Angela called out
"You ever call me that again and you're dead" I snapped
"She calls you that." she pointed out with a smile on her face
"Yes, and she is the only one that calls me that."
"Alright, I'm sorry Tim." as I walked to my desk I heard the faintest "me" and laughing right after, it didn't bug me as much because I finally got to my desk
*Ryan's POV*
Y/n didn't notice Tim when he walked in, she always gets so locked into her doodling. He crouched down next to the chair and she gasped
"Timmy!"
"Hey S/n, what you doing?" he asked with his best smile
"Just coloring and waiting for you. I made you and Ryan lunches and cookies!" she said happily as she handed him his lunch and showed him the container of cookies
"Thank you so much, S/n!" giving her a kiss on the nose, now I knew he had a crush on my sister, which I most definitely gave him a huge talk about if he hurts her I'll crush his skull in, but the way he said thank you... had everyone around stopping. Anglea and Lucy were Awwing, and Grey, and Nolan were probably having heart attacks, while West just pursed his lips trying not to smile. I just gave him a warning look as he pulled another chair over and sat in that one
*Tim's POV*
While I was eating some people still looked on and off, not used to the domesticated me, but they weren't ready for what was about to happen, and to tell you the truth neither was I.
"Um- so I was thinking, you wanna go to dinner with me?" I asked slowly not ready for the answer. Everyone was shocked, except the girls... I think they might have been more nervous for her answer than I was
"L-Li-Like a date?" she asked, her entire face turning red looking down to hide her blush. I put my finger under her chin and began lifting her head up
"If that's okay" Somehow I think my face was redder than hers
"That'd be awesome" she said in a small voice
"Yeah?" I had to double check
"Yeah!" she nodded quickly
"Cool" I nervously laughed out
"Cool" she laughed out nearly the same
"DAMNIT" We turned to Kai standing next to Ryan getting his wallet out and handing him a twenty
"W-what?" Y/n asked confused
"I knew he would break first, he thought you would just kiss him one day" Ryan explained
"Well, I've waited this long" She shrugged and turned to me next thing I know her lips are on mine and I never want to let them go
I moaned into the kiss luckily as cheering erupted in the precinct.
Thanks lol
#tim bradford#the rookie#tim bradford x reader#lucy chen#wade grey#angela lopez#jackson west#john nolan
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I come again w/ another Tim Drake au!!
So there's this fanfic "If We Could Only Utter the Words Left Unsaid" by TaintedCure on AO3
And now I wanna share an idea
TW for suicide because of Timothy + death-fueled-time-travel
Basically, whenever somebody kills Tim, they go back in time, and there's no limit to how many times he can die. they go back far enough to prevent his death or not do an attempt on his life
He dies during Titans Tower? Back in time you go Jason!
Cut his line and he broke his neck and died? Damian is now back in time!
Some goon cracked his skull too well? Say hello to the past bucko!
Hell, even accidental murders still register so if you were to accidentally push him off too high a ledge you're getting the Time Travel Treatment
Hey maybe Tim still is aware of his time travel powers, but only when it comes to natural causes (like hypothermia) or suicides, so as a result he thinks he knows it all when he in fact doesn't
So yeah, unless somebody spills, Tim is clueless to the whole truth of his powers
I imagine only old age would do him in at this rate
It'd be like real interesting to see all the POVs, especially if they think they know all the loops
Like there's Tim who's regularly exploited his powers to get perfect results but is trying to convince himself he isn't being too frivolous with his life since he's saving lives or making them better
Then there's the people who did him in and may or may not even be aware that the time travel they experiences was because they killed the Third Robin or got him killed
Then there's the people who've done him in maybe one, twice or multiple times and have clocked into the fact that murdering Tim is an exercise in futility
TW: suicide (powers revolving traveling time by dying), violence/abuse (skip the angst if you don't want the second one), and death.
Now, this is a very interesting concept, and I'm probably gonna get lost in the setup for a bit.
The way that Tim's powers work would have to be defined really well. How far back can he go? In the fic you mentioned, he has a save point, basically. He can die an infinite amount of times, but he'll only return to his save point unless he reaches past the OG time he died. He can play around as much as he wants between the savepoint and his death, but a new savepoint gets set up after he passes his OG death time. It also indicated a decrease in time he went back (or his savepoint was established) so that he'll eventually die for good if he kept using his powers. That solves a lot of continuity issues.
However, the setup for Tim's powers could be like SSS-Class Suicide Hunter. For those who aren't familiar, the MC revives 24 hours in the past. He ends up killing himself thousands of times to end up at least a decade in the past. It's been a while since I've read it, but that's the basics of it.
If we're working off of those rules, anyone who kills Tim is only working with 24 hours in the past. You can add more or less time to fit your AU better.
I have some questions about the setup. You mentioned that the person who kills Tim would get sent back without his knowledge. Therefore, in Tim's mind, has he never been murdered? Or, is it a two for one ride into the past? Does the villain get sent back into the past, but Tim doesn't know the past has been changed? Or does Tim get sent back as well, but he doesn't know the villain is also sent back?
Imma get into the angst in a bit if Tim doesn't get sent back into the past when he gets murdered.
However, the issue with this is fucking with the timestream. If a goon kills Tim, ends up 24 hours in the past, and past Tim kills himself within those 24 hours, what the hell is the timeline? Does the goon still get sent back in time? Does Tim get sent back, and then, when the goon is supposed to, his consciousness gets sent back during that time? Does Tim killing himself wipe out the goon being able to travel back in time?
Continously, I assume if villains found out about the power, they would gun for Red Robin with prejudice because they know they'll get a cheat that way. They get a ticket to the past if they kill the bird. They get a redo.
Alright. Angst time!
~~
Bruce is the first one to find out about Tim's power. He's training with Tim when, as per usual, he takes it a bit too far. The man has a habit of not pulling his punches in a fucked up version of trying to push Tim away from being Robin. This time, when he punches Tim, the kid doesn't get up. It's a wonder he didn't hear the awful crack or notice Tim's neck wasn't quite right. Only not recieving an answer after berating Tim about not getting up causes Bruce to pause. He doesn't hear breathing.
Oh gods. He doesn't hear breathing. Is Tim dead? Did he kill Tim? Did he break his nec-
Bruce snaps to attention mid lecture to Robin. They are both in the cave (not on the training mats not on the mats not on the mats), and it seems the exact same as it was yesterday when he was yelling at Tim about proper batarang maintenance.
Tim, ever the observant Robin, leans forward as if to ask if Batman was okay. Bruce flinches back.
Tim's eyes widen in shock as he takes a step back. In the year or so he's worked with Bruce, he's never gotten that response to initating touch. Tim's eyes flicker down to his hand in recrimination and puzzlement.
Bruce takes a shaky breath in before dismissing Tim for the night. The child is hesitant to flee but follows the request.
Bruce doesn't know what happened and he's not sure he wants to find out.
This cues Bruce being kinder to Tim and less harsh. The detective figures out that Tim has a time traveling power upon death, but it appears as if Tim isn't aware of it (he doesn't know that Tim constantly kills himself for better results in field). Tim never finds out that Bruce's change in behavior to him was born of guilt. He never learns that his dad killed him.
~~
Next angst!
Two concepts with Jason.
One, Jason creates a fucked up timeloop with Titan's Tower where he kills Tim over and over again in fucked up ways until he satiates his desire for bloodlust. If Tim is still aware of the Tower incident, that's because Jason wanted him to be. Whether Jason becomes guilty about this timeloop he created or not could also be explored. There is a fic out there kind of similar to this concept (timeloop Titan's Tower, not the added element of Tim's powers).
Two, Bruce does end up killing Jason in the showdown with the Joker. He batarang slices Jason's neck, the building blows up, and Jason never emerges. There's a few ways to add on top of this angst. If Titan's Tower happened before this (and Tim was left beaten), that means Tim chose to kill himself to save Jason. Jason will never know. That, or Titan's Tower happens afterwards and Jason tortures Tim not knowing the teen saved him from a second death at the hands of his father (ironically Tim also doesn't know that he's been killed by Bruce).
~~
Last Angst!
Damian finds out about Tim's power and abuses it constantly. He's a kid that was raised to be an assassin and found someone he can kill that also gives him the benefit of getting away with anything. As long as the kill goes through, he's golden.
Eventually, Damian starts to slow down on this. He doesn't really want to see Drake choking on blood again.
He one day finds that he hasn't tried to kill Drake in months and he doesn't really want to try to.
Then he finds that list.
Then he cuts Drake's line.
Then he has to relive those 24 hours again knowing he killed someone he was starting to trust.
Bonus angst if Tim finds out, jokingly asks his family members how many times they have killed them, and finds out Dick is the only one who hasn't (Tim killed himself after the 16th birthday incident and he somewhat blames Alfred for that, though he'll never tell him).
#dc comics#dc universe#tim drake#jason todd#bruce wayne#damian wayne#dc au#batfam au#thank you for the ask!!!!#i don't feel like editing so let me know if there are any errors!
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Mage's Ball
Just a little blurb I did for @occudo 's fantasy AU thing.
My writing isn't like... flowery or anything, but it at least put down the start of a brainworm THIS comic gave me. There's more to it but like. I'm really bad at being able to continue/finish fics (I do better at RP) so this is what you get.
It was the middle of the ball, and Tim had been left on his own. By choice, mind you, but he still wasn’t particularly happy about it. Sir Timothy Stoker, knight to Mage Sasha James, had come along to keep an eye on his charge and perhaps… well. He didn’t entirely know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Sasha focused on… Jonathan Sims and his knight, Martin Blackwood. Focused, and chatting so animated about their latest trials and tribulations in the aftermath of the Prentiss incident. Tim was not pleased, and therefore he was incredibly distracted.
“A knight without his mage- that’s a rare sight. Did they abandon you?” A deep, smooth voice croons in on the knight from nearby.
“My lady can chat without my help.” Tim turns to see who was addressing him, only to find another Mage. “I don’t see a knight by your side either, Lord-”
“Delano.” Gerry removed the sheer fabric that had been covering his head to better view this pouting guardian.
Standing at attention, Tim reached for the mage’s hand to draw the back of it to his lips in greeting. “Sir Stoker. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His eyes fell to the fabric at the mage’s waist, only for his eyes to be guided up to the bared skin of his chest. Lord Delano had a considerable amount of tattoos; eyes decorated his skin all the way up to the collar at his throat.
“Likewise,” Gerry responds, smiling at the display. His eyes traced over the knight for possibly the sixth time this evening, having noticed him earlier in the evening. “I never felt the need to employ a bodyguard for myself- way too much work if you ask me.” Pale gaze lifting, it seems like his interest has yet to bring his eyes back up from his chest, and he sighs in amusement. “Also- my eyes are up here, Sir Stoker.”
“With all due respect, they are also down there, my lord.” Tim couldn’t help but find himself mesmerized by them, among… other things. This was a fancy ball and somehow Lord Delano managed to get away with having so much skin exposed. It was daring, it showed off his nature as a Seer Mage, and it was… well. Distracting. Very distracting. Finally, he manages to tear his eyes away from ink and look back up to the other man with a flush across his cheeks. “I think you’re the only one who got away with going casual,” he jokes with a smile.
“Casual?” The response comes with laughter, Gerry lifting a hand to cover his smile briefly as he turns to glance around the room. He notices Stoker doing the same, and together they take in all the grandeur of the Winter Mage’s Ball. “That would mean some of those here are a bit over-dressed, wouldn’t you think?” The knight’s own lady was in quite a gown, and he watches with a smile as she laughs and converses with her two current companions. He catches the eye of the shorter mage over there, and enjoys the rather disgruntled look he gets out of it.
“Want to get away from here for a little bit?”
Tim had been distracted again, both to try and not openly ogle at Lord Delano again, but also because those three looked like they were having quite a good time. Over-dressed? His gaze manages to move away to fluffy dresses and gents looking so prim and proper. Plenty to look at, nothing to see. Hearing the laughter, he looked back at the trio just about when Gerry spoke up again. “E-Excuse me?!” Tim sputters, turning to stare at the taller man.
Gerry offers him a smile, and then a hand. “My rented quarters aren’t too far, and it looks like she’s well entertained. There are guards posted everywhere and the room is full of mages. I think she is quite safe, and I’ll admit you have me feeling a little under-dressed.” Tim’s eyes are roaming again, but fortunately it was more than just at his chest. He watches the man sputter again, trying to find words for what he wanted, only to get a-
“...give me a second, please. If you would?” Tim has to check in at least once, and that was probably the quickest shuffle he has made to Sasha’s side outside of danger. A quick conversation, with no small amount of glaring from Lord Sims, and Lord Delano gets gestured to. More conversation happens, and Lady James nods her head and offers the other Seer Mage a polite bow before returning to her conversation. Tim returned to Gerry’s side shortly after, offering him a bow of his own. “My services are yours for the evening, My Lord.”
“Well. I’m going to have to get you to say that a few more times while I have you, then,” Gerry muses. He beckons for Stoker to follow, turning to head for the exit doors that would lead them outside. “Come along, then, Sir Stoker.”
#tma#the magnus archives#creative writing#gerard keay#gerry keay#gerry delano#gerard delano#timothy stoker#tim stoker#occudo
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Like the Beat of a Drum pt 2
**I'm not entirely happy about this, and have NO clue where it's going next, but we'll see!**
The Red Hood clocked Danny as not all he seemed as soon as they were alone together. After some negotiation (Danny threatening to vanish into thin air and Hood threatening to tell Red Robin), they came to a consensus.
Danny would be in human form unless one of the other bats were around, and Hood would keep his big mouth shut.
“No spooky supernatural stuff in my borough, kid.”
Danny decided not to tell the other man that he himself had a fair bit of spooky supernatural stuff going on.
He should probably keep an eye on that- Corrupted ectoplasm was never a good thing, and Red Hood was crawling with it.
Living in Crime Alley was easy. Hood had put him up in a dingy little apartment, fully stocked with anything he might need- and no surveillance equipment. Danny had checked. He spent his time while he finished the healing process taking the toaster apart. And the microwave.
Hood visited while he was arms deep in the oven and put a kibosh on larger appliances, but he started bringing small broken appliances around for Danny to fix. It was nice, having another undead hanging around. Someone who understood the constant itch under Danny’s skin to keep moving, keep working, keep reminding himself he was alive.
He even was finally able to see his soulmark! It was a name, somebody called Timothy Drake-Wayne. Hood had seen it and made some sort of choking noise, and when Danny asked, he was told that Drake-Wayne was publicly markless. Weird.
Danny was pleased that the wounds to the area had healed completely though, not marring the text at all.
The wound on his chest, not so much. It stood out, inflamed and sore against his otherwise pale chest. Its presence reminded him a little of the lichtenberg scars that crawled down his arms in his ghost form.
Maybe the Drs. Fenton had somehow killed him again, and now he was a halfa twice over? This was his penance, he supposed, for trusting them after everything.
~~~
Tim’s favorite coffee shop was packed, save for one table with a lone occupant. Once he’d gotten his deathwish coffee, he made his way over to the table.
“Excuse me, do you mind if I-“
The table’s occupant, a young man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, nodded toward the other chair before Tim could finish his sentence.
“Feel free, man. It’s a busy day today.”
Tim couldn’t help but wonder where he’d seen the other before- his face was familiar in a strange way, and he felt- he felt surprisingly attracted.
His soulmate heartbeat thing had been unusually quiet since the night Phantom arrived, whereas before it sounded loud and clear in his head at least a few times a day and long into the night.
He was allowed to talk to cute people while his soulmate was still young, right?
“Spend a lot of time here?”
The stranger shrugged.
“Here and there. Haven’t run into you before, which I think I would have noticed. I’m Danny, by the way.”
Tim didn’t think much of the name. This young man was far too old to be his Daniel.
“Nice to meet you, Danny. I’m Tim.”
He reached out a hand, and Danny shook it firmly, giving him an odd look that quickly passed.
The two of them sat and chatted for a while, and Tim found himself wondering how he’d missed this person around Gotham- he was well spoken with a soft accent, whip smart, and gorgeous.
Tim’s watch buzzed, reminding him he had a meeting- he could have sworn he had two hours between his coffee run and his meeting, but perhaps he’d been chatting too long.
“Shit! I have to go- it was nice meeting you!”
He chugged the rest of his now-cold coffee and darted out of the coffee shop.
It wasn’t until after the shareholder’s meeting that he realized he hadn’t asked for Danny’s number.
~~~
“Hood!”
Jason looked up from his desk as his office door was flung open, and then watched in amusement as Danny scrambled out of the grasp of the goon trying to pull him away.
“Sorry Boss, he slipped by us! I’ll- OW! He bites!”
“Stand down, Marcus, he’s a friend. Head over to medical if you need to- the little shit’s feral.”
Grumbling, the goon let go of a smug looking Danny and made his way to the other door while Danny swanned into the office and made himself comfortable on Hood’s guest chairs.
“How did you find this place?”
Shrugging, the kid pretended to inspect his nails.
“You know, just followed the scent of daddy issues and rancid ectoplasm- not hard. Didn’t peg you for the office type, though.”
Jason leaned back, crossing his arms.
“What do you want.”
“Timothy Drake-Wayne is Red Robin, yes?”
Trying to keep his posture casual and unconcerned, Jason tilted his head.
“What makes you say that?”
“I met a guy named Tim at the coffee shop and he’s got the same ghosts as Red Robin.”
Danny slapped a newspaper down on the desk between them- the cover page was Tim, looking very CEO and businesslike.
Jason was pretty sure Tim and Danny would get along like a house on fire, if Danny had already figured him out.
“Also, I felt his heartbeat when we shook hands and it matches the beat of my soul.”
Pausing, Jason parsed the information he now had about Danny.
“Wait, you can see ghosts that follow people?”
“You can’t?”
Jason stared incredulously at Danny for a few beats, and then the younger man sighed.
“Right. Your ecto is all screwy. Remind me to fix that. Yeah, I see ghosts attached to people- not everyone has them, and not all of the ghosts are actually, you know, dead people, but yeah. I don’t normally think about them because they’re everywhere, but same ghosts often equal same person.”
Danny slumped further into the chair after he finished talking, letting out a small whine.
“What now?”
“Jason, he’s cute.”
With a sigh, Jason pointed over at the newest handful of appliances he needed Danny to fix for the residents of Crime Alley.
“Take that and get out of my office.”
~~~
“Timberly~”
Tim sighed and let his pen drop- if Jason was here and looking for him, he probably wouldn’t get much work done. Not that he was getting work done now- balancing a pen on his nose wasn’t really work.
Jason rounded the batcomputer, idly tossing his helmet from one hand to another, a massive grin stretching across his face. It was a scheming face, a face that said he knew something Tim didn’t, and Tim hated not knowing things.
“What.”
Jason’s grin stretched wider.
“You’ve been keeping secrets!”
With a sigh, Tim turned his attention to the computer. Of course he kept secrets- the entire family had secrets. Hell, the secrets that the entire family kept probably also kept secrets.
Undeterred, Jason shoved his head (read: his entire upper body) in between Tim and the computer.
“So, where is it?”
Tim raised an eyebrow at the other man, hoping he looked as judgmental as he felt.
“Where is what, Jason? My spleen?”
The grin on Jason’s face faltered for a moment before returning with full force.
“Your soulmark!”
The weights Dick had been working with in the training area hit the floor with a loud thump, and Tim could only assume their oldest brother was storming over to berate Jason.
“Jason!”
Heh. He was right.
Jason pulled away, grabbing the arm of Tim’s chair and dragging him along to be a human shield as Dick approached.
“Nu-uh, Dickie- I’ve got good info, here. Timmy has been hiding his entire soul from us!”
Tim would like it to go on record that he hated everything, everyone, and especially Jason. He tuned out Dick’s raised voice and Jason’s responses, trying to figure out how the other could have found out.
He almost always kept the patch on- it’s not like a civilian camera could have caught him without. Even when he took the patch off to wash or to tend a nearby wound, he made sure to do it in his Nest without any recording devices nearby.
The only way Jason could have- Maybe he’d met Daniel and seen Tim’s name? Some poor kid down in Crime Alley? A four year old at best. Eurgh.
He tuned back into the still heated conversation.
“-kindness isn’t hard Jason, and you can’t just use the excuse that we’re siblings to bully Tim for being markless! I never thought you had it in you, you-“
“It’s under my sternum. How’d you find out?”
Dick’s tirade stopped short as Tim answered, his mouth dropping open comically. Jason pumped his fist triumphantly.
“You handed him to me on a silver platter, Timbo.”
Tim did not gape, that would be unbecoming and Janet Drake would never allow a son of hers to be unbecoming.
“I’m sorry?”
Jason grinned, an evil, evil grin.
“Daniel Fenton. You gave his case to me.”
“Case?”
Dick’s voice was high and reedy, and Tim looked over to see that he was looking distressed and probably a little faint.
Jason snickered. Rude.
“I do not have a case for my soulmate.”
Jason snickered again, and pointed at the batcomputer.
“Then what’s that?”
Both Dick and Tim turned to look- it was just the file on Phantom- but by the time they turned around again, Jason was roaring out of the cave on his bike.
Tim flipped him off, just because he could.
Dick collected himself before Tim did, whirling to face him and yanking Tim’s shirt up before desperately scraping at the bare skin, trying to find the patch.
With a sigh, Tim pushed Dick’s searching hands away and peeled off the patch himself.
He felt bare without it- completely exposed to his brother’s sharp eyes.
“You never told anyone?”
Shrugging, Tim slapped the patch back on, pulled his shirt down, and turned back to the batcomputer.
“Came in late- didn’t want some poor kid to get saddled with me.”
By the hitch in Dick’s breathing, Tim could tell the older man was about to get sentimental on him, or berate him for talking bad about himself.
This day couldn’t get much worse, could it?
The Arkham escape alarm sounded from both boys’ phones, and Tim sighed yet again. Way to jinx himself.
~~~
Phantom floated invisibly above the Red Hood, filtering away the ectoplasm that rolled off of him in waves as he stood with the other bats.
“Nightwing and Robin, you’re looking for the Joker.”
The ectoplasm spiked at Batman’s growl, and Danny sighed soundlessly. Keeping Jason away from his vengeance was not the right way to go about things.
“You want another dead Robin if they find him?”
“I do not want a dead Joker, Hood, and I know there will be one if I let you after him.”
Red Hood crossed his arms with a snarl, and Phantom settled closer to the man’s shoulders, keeping a steady wave of calm floating from his core.
The beat of his soul was pounding with excitement, and he took a moment to glance over at Red Robin, who was glaring in Red Hood’s direction. Danny couldn’t begin to fathom why.
Once the bats scattered, Phantom brought his head closer to Hood’s. The older boy was muttering mutinously under his helmet.
“What if we found him first?”
Hood’s head shot up to look in Danny’s direction.
“I could help, and then we could go home and finish Jenga.”
“Help do what?”
Danny dropped his invisibility long enough to flash Jason a grin.
“Payback.”
~~~
Red Robin and Spoiler crashed into a warehouse, weapons at the ready, only to find half the rogues they were looking for tied up and watching a fight going on in the center of the room. Tim’s heart was beating a mile-a-minute with adrenaline, and so was his second heartbeat. He had been rushing to find the Joker at least, especially after Red Hood went off comms.
It took him a minute to identify the people in the fight, if it could really be called that. From what he could tell, it was a mostly unilateral beat-down of the Joker by Phantom.
“What the fuck.”
Stephanie was watching with wide eyes from his side, and Tim caught a glance of Jason watching from the other side of the warehouse, helmet off and a green glow about his face.
“We need to get to Hood and make sure he doesn’t do anything.”
Spoiler nodded, but before she could move, a shadow shifted next to Hood and Black Bat slipped from the shadows, putting a hand on the man’s arm. Hood turned his head in her direction, nodded, and then went back to watching the show.
Black Bat stepped away, seeming satisfied with Jason’s response.
Phantom smacked Joker with a backhand slap loud enough to startle Tim, and the psychopathic man went flying back into the wall, crumpling into a heap at the base.
Tim watched as Phantom floated over to Hood, chest heaving despite no sounds of breathing.
“Are you Avenged, Bat of Gotham? Feel it in your Core.”
The greenish glow to Jason’s face flickered and then floated up and away from his face, dispersing in a thin mist.
“I am Avenged, Phantom.”
Phantom landed with a smile.
“See? Killing him wasn’t necessary- just a little beatdown.”
The second heartbeat in Tim’s sternum began to slow as Phantom held out a hand to Red Hood.
Jason took it and shook, smiling grimly.
“Red Robin?”
Spoiler was at his shoulder, but Tim couldn’t tear his eyes away from Phantom’s face.
“Red, we need to get Joker to the hospital.”
Black Bat moved from beside Jason and punched Tim on the shoulder.
“Ask him out.”
Tim startled.
“I- what?”
She made the sign for soulmate discreetly, and Tim felt his face flush. Phantom couldn’t possibly- but then he thought about Jason’s cryptic wording about Tim’s soulmate the other day.
Surely not. Surely.
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Text
An Offer · part 03
pairing: mob!bucky x reader
words: 3,3k
warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.)
<previous part | next part> | series masterlist
series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.
Since the question of marriage came into your life, everything else has receded into the background. Even if you tried to distract yourself, you couldn't focus on anything other than agreements, mergers, potential offers and, most importantly, fears about the future. You wondered whether the Rumlow Family would agree to talk again. If not, what was left for you? You didn't have enough time to learn how to manage your father's business; to master all the functions of the Head of the Family. Besides, you didn't even have the right qualities to become one.
Unable to concentrate on your work, you closed your laptop. Your gallery was scheduled to host an exhibition soon, and you had been doing your best to give it enough attention, but you gave up after the fifth mindless reading of an email. Having stood by a huge window that overlooked a patch of the city, you let your thoughts wander somewhere to the beginning of your life, or at least to the moment when you began to be aware of it. You reflected on which decision – yours or someone around you – had brought you to this point.
You weren't sure about your father, but your mother didn't want that life for you. When she thought you were old and sensible enough, she would say: Never marry a gangster.
But this life never bothered you. You weren't afraid of guns or blood, and the usual dangers that came with what your father did didn't particularly scare you.
For the first few years of your life you were no different from any other kid. But as soon as you finished elementary school, your parents sent you to a private girls' school in London, where you spent the next six years. At first you thought the prestigious academy abroad was a real opportunity. Only later did you realise what it was really all about. Your mother panicked; she didn't want to let you soak up the darkness and ruthlessness of the world that was your father's everyday life. She believed that there was something inside you already, and that it needed to be nipped in the bud.
But her plan failed. You noticed and understood more than was thought. Sending you to another country didn't get the job done, because when you came home for holidays and long weekends, you seeked ways to absorb as much as possible of what your mother was protecting you from. Your father, on the other hand, seeing your enthusiasm and fascination, secretly allowed you to explore this world, but dispensed it safely. You may not have become an expert because of this, but you were not completely clueless either. You learned a few things.
Your mind swiftly connected your past with the relationship you had with Bucky. You both came from the same background, your father having a good relationship with both George and Timothy Barnes. Despite this, Bucky's and your paths never really crossed. He was six years older than you, so when you finally finished school and returned home permanently, you didn’t see him often.
You wouldn't say that you knew him. You were only aware of his existence, you had heard things about him. You witnessed the assassination of his father and then Bucky just disappeared. He left New York for two years.
And now? You considered an analogy – he was becoming to you what George and Timothy were to your father. You supposed you both had it in your blood; a mutual affection for each other.
Your thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door. A girl named Tracy, who worked in the gallery, entered your office with a big bouquet of hyacinths and white tulips. This sight caught you off guard.
“Who are these from?” Tracy asked, grinning with excitement. She put the flowers on the desk.
You raised your eyebrows. “I thought you'd tell me.”
“Courier delivered them.” She looked at the flowers with persistent admiration. You would have given a lot to be able to share her enthusiasm, but you were aware that this bouquet could have meant anything. Like another offer, you thought uneasily.
Noticing a small piece of paper, you reached carefully between the stems. You didn't expect to know the handwriting; nevertheless, you felt even more anxious.
These flowers are supposed to symbolize an apology. Really. Check that out.
Sorry.
Your first suspicion fell on Brock. Could it be that he regretted the way he behaved in the pub that day? No one else had offended you enough to send flowers. And even though you still didn't want to have anything to do with Brock, you couldn't get rid of them. The bouquet didn't make you forgive Brock, but it didn't deserve to be thrown away either.
Another sleepless night was no particular surprise, but you felt too exhausted to accept it. Besides, you couldn’t let tiredness affect your next day – you had to be able to think properly, especially now. So having taken something to help you sleep, you lay in the darkness, waiting for the effects.
Until something caught your attention.
A quiet tap, but you couldn't tell where it was coming from. Immediately afterwards you heard it again. You sat up on the bed, switched on the bedside lamp – which blinded you at first – and looked around. With another tap you realised that it was the sound of something hitting the window.
You got out of bed and walked there. Because of the moonlight outside, it was bright enough for you to recognise the man standing below. Without a second thought, you opened the window.
“Hi,” Bucky spoke.
You stuck your head out and smiled; you tried to do it with disapproval, but you had to admit that his presence instantly lightened your mood. And the fact that the scene looked like a forbidden romance of teenagers allowed you to forget about your current problems. “Did you just throw rocks at my window?”
“Would you rather I scream? I can scream.” He lifted his eyebrows with conviction.
You raised your eyebrows expectantly.
“Actually, I can’t,” Bucky said, and you let out a brief laugh. “I’m too scared of Michael,” he lowered his voice.
“And that's why you are standing there instead of using the door,” you guessed, causing him to nod. “Do you want me to come down to you..?”
“I can go up to you.” He shrugged casually.
“Oh, really?”
Hearing the skepticism in your voice, Bucky shook his head resignedly, theatrically offended by your lack of confidence in his abilities, then moved closer to the wall. You watched him with a kind of awe, certain that he would give up at the last moment. At least, that seemed the most sensible option to you. However, Bucky grabbed onto the drainpipe, and placing his feet on its fixings, began to climb upwards. Your eyes widened.
On the one hand, you wanted to stop him; to ask him to come back down. On the other, the sight gave you too much joy that you didn't want to take away from yourself.
You moved back to a safe distance so Bucky could slip inside without trouble, and when he was on the final straight, you grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled him into the room. Not that he needed it, but your conscience did.
“Thanks,” he breathed, dusting off his T-shirt and jeans.
The typical coolness of a spring night was coming in, so you closed the window, then reached for your robe and threw it over your shoulders. When you turned your gaze towards Bucky again, you found him by your dresser.
“So, this is your room,” he concluded, inspecting the scented candle he had grabbed from the top of the dresser. He unscrewed the lid of a small jar and hesitantly sniffed the wax inside. Only then did he glance at the label, frowning. “It's… not how I'd imagined.”
Your forehead creased. “What? My room?”
“Lounge At Night.” Bucky lifted the candle so you could see what he was talking about. You rolled your eyes, snorting a quiet laugh. “You like them? Scented candles?”
“Mhm,” you answered, watching him with patience. You wondered what he was up to. And why did he come here.
“I've never thought about your room. I'm not that perverted like-” he cut off suddenly, unsure whether he should mention that.
“Like Brock?”
Bucky smiled at first, then let out a quiet sigh. Staring at you with something you couldn’t exactly figure out, he chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry if I took away your chance to get married.”
“Wasn't that the plan? To cool Michael’s enthusiasm?” You squinted, the corners of your mouth turned up in an amused smile. “Anyway…” you added more seriously. “I wouldn’t call Brock a chance.”
“Good. Because I’m not really sorry.” He raised his eyebrows, and you cackled again. Talking to Bucky turned out to be a pleasant escape from all the important conversations you've been having lately.
But you felt uneasy, having recalled the situation in the gallery. “I don't know if he's not up to something. I… got some flowers today,” you said nervously.
There was some slight change in Bucky's face, which you could barely see in the faint light of the bedside lamp. Sparks of boyish sneakiness flickered in his eyes, but otherwise he remained unmoved. “White tulips and blue hyacinths?”
You didn't immediately realise what he was actually telling you. But when you did, your brows drew together and your lips parted slightly, but no sound came out except for a single short breath. “Those were from you?”
Bucky nodded. “What I did was wrong. I left you in that pub without saying anything. I was a bit harsh, too, and you did nothing to deserve it.”
You pursed your lips helplessly. It wasn't that you felt relieved when it turned out that Brock hadn't given you an outstretched hand. You were somehow touched by Bucky's gesture. Not only had he sent you flowers, but – as the little note in the bouquet told – he had made sure they were not accidental.
“Hey…” Bucky began softly, walking up to you. He seemed concerned. “I’m sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” you protested right away. “I didn't expect to get flowers from you, that's all.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face in silence. Just by that expression you could feel the teasing coming. “Is it that shocking? You think I'm that thick skinned?”
“You said yourself you’re not a guy to marry,” you pointed out. “So, yes, such romantic gestures from you can be pretty shocking.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Romantic gestures?”
“Leave it,” you warned. “I don't often get flowers. That's why I was so moved.”
“I thought men throw themselves at your feet.” Bucky seemed genuinely surprised.
“Sometimes they do. But they don’t buy me flowers,” you clarified, smirking. “So far you are the only one who has done both,” you reminded him, referring to the situation at the funeral. And although you felt embarrassed at the time, now this event slightly sweetened your memories. “The bouquet was really beautiful. Thank you.” Your mouth curved into a delicate smile. “And for what you did for me in the car that day. And for Brock.”
Bucky's face softened again. At first he gazed at you with mild surprise, astonished by your gratitude. It seemed he wasn't waiting for a thank you, which you didn't suspect him of anyway. “I get you out of trouble, right?”
“And I don’t understand why you do it every time.”
“I told you, I want to do some good. For a change.” Bucky shrugged.
“Mhm,” you murmured unconvinced.
“You're saying I should sit around and do nothing?”
“Well, I’m not your problem, aren’t I?”
You secretly hoped that you would manage to frustrate him with your tenacity enough that he might finally tell you the real reason. But Bucky appeared completely controlled; without even blinking, he patiently put up with your innocent push.
“You can become my problem,” he said. If it wasn't for the fact that his calmness impressed you most of the time, you would probably find it annoying. “If Brock gets carried away by his pride, and I think that is what will happen, he won't want an alliance with us.”
“If I marry Brock, our Families won't have a good relationship anymore?” you made sure, putting it into as simple words as possible. Your brain was working at a lower and lower speed - the sleeping pills you had taken a few minutes ago were slowly starting to kick in.
Bucky nodded.
“Why won't your uncle talk to Michael?” You frowned.
“Because that's just a guess. My guess. And all Michael cares about is putting your father's business in good hands. It's the only right way to go, but he believes too much in agreements. He thinks he’ll have Rumlows’ loyalty with their signatures. But he won’t.”
You were again stepping into the sensitive area – topics you would have preferred to avoid, to get away from. But when Bucky shared with you what he thought about it all, you knew you could listen to him for hours.
You had a real intellectual in front of you; a far-sighted strategist with a nose for people. If you hadn't had several conversations with him, witnessed him speak, you wouldn't have suspected him of the brilliant way his mind worked. After all, just a moment ago he had climbed up the drainpipe into your room. He was wearing that leather jacket of his, a bruise from his clash with Brock and healing wounds on his knuckles. There was still a stubble on his face that many might call untidy; you wondered when he'd get rid of it and if he'd do it at all. You remembered that he looked a bit different in the past – much shorter hair that curled shyly into soft waves, always clean shaven. Now he seemed to wear the remains of what he had become in his absence. You didn't know him well enough, you'd never had the chance to get a good look at him, but you were amazed at how much a person can change in two years.
Bucky watched you, but he wasn't impatient with the fact that you didn't say anything, didn't refer to his last words. He probably understood that you were tired of it all.
You didn't think you could get so comfortable in his company even when you were both silent. And it seemed that Bucky felt the same way – he didn't look for an opportunity to say anything, he appeared completely relaxed, as if you had known each other for centuries.
“Would you like some tea?” You spoke.
The corners of his mouth turned up. “What about Michael? He told me to stay away.”
“And yet, here you are. Looks like you don’t mind the consequences.” You raised your eyebrows. Immediately, however, the expression on your face returned to the same gentleness of a moment ago. “Like any decent person at three in the morning, Michael is at his place,” you added, sneaking a hint, at which Bucky squinted slightly.
“In that case…” He sighed. “Tea is fine. If you don't mind the company of degenerates like me.”
“I can handle it.” You pursed your lips to hide an amused grin.
Keeping as quiet as possible, you led the way out of your bedroom, then up the stairs and eventually to the kitchen. You put the kettle on, then reached into the cupboard for a tin container of tea.
“Where do you keep your cups?” Bucky asked.
You gazed at him with confusion – you probably expected him, as a man from your environment, to sit back and idly watch what you were doing. And you wouldn't be angry about it, after all, men were in charge of much more important things; they were the providers, bringing home the money they worked hard for all day.
You blinked. “They’re just above me, but I’ll-”
Bucky stretched out towards the cupboards you mentioned, thus pushing his body involuntarily against yours. He froze for a moment, and the warmth of his torso, which you felt on your back thanks to the thin material of your robe as well as your nightgown, was enough to make a swarm of butterflies go mad in your stomach and a pleasant shiver spread through your body with a hot wave. And even though Bucky moved away, the goosebumps lingered on your skin for the next few minutes.
You turned hastily, pressing yourself to the edge of the countertop at which you were standing, and gave Bucky an almost terrified look – like an animal backed into a corner. He, too, stared at you anxiously; with fear at how such a small, insignificant gesture had caused so much. That was all it took – the glances you gave each other – for both of you to know that there had just been a slight discharge of the electricity that had hung over you from the moment Bucky appeared in your house for the first time.
Bucky glanced at your lips, but quickly looked away, ashamed and even a little concerned about what was going through his mind. You could feel your cheeks burning.
You both flinched when the kettle started to whistle. You hurriedly moved to turn it off – you didn't want to wake up the whole house. Besides, you had to get out of that situation somehow. With a trembling hand, you poured the tea into two cups and filled them with water, doing these things for longer than they required. You were unable to predict what would happen if you looked at Bucky again.
“Why exactly are you here?” you finally asked. You sounded surprisingly calm, considering what happened just a moment before.
“My mom…” he began, and you looked over your shoulder at him. “She wants you and your sister to come to our house for dinner. Claims you two could use some family time.”
Your brows drew together as you were taking in what he had just said. Perhaps it was actually about you and Suzie, or perhaps Mrs. Barnes felt it was your mother who could use some space – after all, she had lost her husband herself, and knew like no one else what it was like.
You didn't have the heart to say no. “When..?”
“This Saturday.”
You nodded carefully, still staring at him. You forgot the tea; you both did.
“You could have called. Or texted,” you said, again pushing to find out the truth. This time you were a little more determined about it; mainly because of what happened. “Why are you here?” you repeated.
Bucky clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. His face took on a particularly helpless expression. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
There was silence, and this time it turned out to be much less comfortable. It seemed that you both stopped trusting each other – stopped trusting your instincts.
The phone in Bucky's pocket buzzed; even you were able to hear it through the silence that surrounded you. He reached for it and, reluctantly taking his eyes off you, focused on the screen. “I gotta go,” he murmured. “Thanks for the tea,” Bucky added, and you glanced at the cups. “I'll see myself out. You go back to bed.”
For a brief moment you thought he wanted to take a step towards you. Eventually you decided it was just a wrong impression, so you didn't react, just folded your arms. Bucky gave you a crooked smile, then he left.
You listened to his footsteps, and when you heard the front door click, you closed your eyes and let out a heavy, shaky breath.
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#mob!bucky x reader#mob!bucky#mob!bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#mob bucky#mafia!bucky
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