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galaxymagitech · 23 days

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No Winter Lasts Forever (No Spring Skips Its Turn)

Written for Dick Grayson Anniversary Week 2024: Day 2

Captivity | The Meaning of Robin | Rescue from Juvie

@dickgraysonweek

Summary: In which Dick is trained to be an undead assassin, refuses an unrefusable offer, loses a family, gains a family, meets a tire thief, and fights the forces of evil—not necessarily in that order.

Characters: Dick Grayson, William Cobb, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, child abuse, minor character death, Court of Owls (while the Court itself is not depicted and the specifics aren't explored, they are part of the background to a large section of the story)

The ropes break with a snap!

Dick’s parents fall to the floor.

And Dick—Dick can’t breathe—

---

They tell him that he’ll have a new family, but Dick doesn’t want a new family. He wants his dat and dej, Pop Haly, the big top. Zitka the elephant. The strongman who spoke even more languages than he did. Harry the clown. Dick doesn’t want a new family. He wants his old family back.

But no one here cares about what Dick wants. He’s dragged by the wrist to a car, and then pulled from the car, and then shoved into a large, stone complex. They take his clothes, his bag, his stuffed elephant. Give him a grey-green shirt to wear that says only “Gotham” on it. Like he belongs to the city now.

Dick has never been to Gotham before. He doesn’t know why it gets to claim him. These streets, these skyscrapers…they aren’t his home. His home is the circus tent.

He doesn’t understand.

They hate him, here. The guards, the kids, the severe woman who called herself a “social worker,” only Dick doesn’t know what that means. Everyone hates him.

Dick curls up in bed and tries not to cry. Crying is a sign of weakness. Blood in the water. He’s surrounded by sharks.

“Hey, new fish!” Someone says.

Dick doesn’t respond.

The boy snaps his fingers. “I’m talking to you!”

Dick curls even tighter.

A hand grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him roughly out of bed. Dick’s palms slam into the concrete floor, stinging furiously. He looks up to see three boys—the same three boys who beat him on his first night there.

“When he talks to you,” says another of the boys with a nasty smirk on his face, “you answer.”

Dick shudders. He doesn’t want to fight them again, but he will. He will, if he has to. He’s been here only a week, a week that’s felt like a lifetime, and he’s had to fight the others again and again.

Why can’t they just let him sleep?

The first boy snaps his fingers again. “Eyes on me, grasshopper.”

Dick looks at him tiredly.

“When,” the boy asks, eyes alight with malice, “are you going to learn?”

---

Dick hates adults.

Well, not all adults. He loved his parents. Pop Haly, and all the other circus folk. No, he doesn’t hate adults, he hates normal adults. The ones that wear suits and skirts and guard uniforms. The ones that don’t care, that hate him for daring to exist. Those are the adults he hates.

But Batman—

Batman wears a mask, and a cape, and a costume reminiscent of a circus performer, though a lot less colorful. So when Batman asks Dick to trust him, Dick tries.

The man disappears into the shadows, leaving Dick alone on the rooftop with a single promise.

---

The next day, they tell Dick that someone is here to see him. Dick is brought to the visitation room, and they don’t give him handcuffs, but he feels like a prisoner all the same. He’s too small for the chair, and his legs swing above the ground as his hands twist in his too-big shirt. Dick doesn’t want anyone to see him like this.

When the man walks in, his shoes click on the floor. Click, click, click. Dick looks up warily.

“Hello, Richard,” the man says. Dick winces. No one calls him Richard except the adults at the youth center, and Dick hateshateshates them. He doesn’t like this man either. He’s wearing a collared shirt just like the police, and his face holds none of the joy that his circus family’s does.

But Dick can tell he is wearing makeup caked onto his face, like the stage makeup all the performers wore at Haly’s, and his eyes have a yellow tint to him. He wears a cool brown coat over his shirt, too. Dick may not like him, but he doesn’t entirely hate him. Because the man doesn’t look quite normal.

“My name is William.”

It seems wrong to call an adult he doesn’t know very well by their first name, but the man didn’t give him a last name.

“Do you have a nickname you like to use?” William asks gently.

“Dick,” Dick says. It’s the first time anyone has asked. It’s the first time anyone has cared.

“Hello, Dick,” William says. “I was friends with Mr. Haly’s family.” Dick squints at William, but he doesn’t seem to be lying. His body bleeds sincerity so much that it’s eerie. “I heard about what happened to your parents. I’m sorry.” Dick shrugs. “I’d like to help you, Dick, if you’ll let me.” Dick looks up and meets his strange, yellow-tinted eyes. They both stare, for a while. Dick blinks first.

“Whatever,” Dick says.

“I want to show you something,” William says. He removes three balls from a pocket inside his coat and throws them into the air, progressively speeding up. Dick watches him, unimpressed. He can do better than that and he’s just eight. William smiles at the way Dick wrinkles his nose. “I know,” he says, catching the balls. “Not very impressive.”

“I can juggle six,” Dick says boldly.

“Do you want to show me?” William asks. He extracts three more juggling balls and places all six in Dick’s small hands. Suddenly nervous, Dick places the balls on the table and wipes his palms on his baggy brown pants. “It’s alright,” William says, reaching for the juggling balls.

“No,” Dick insists. “I can do it.” He picks them up, and gradually tosses them into the air, until he’s doing all six at once. He can’t help the smile that sneaks onto his face as he falls into the rhythmic catch-pass-throw-catch-pass-throw. When he senses his focus dwindling, he catches the balls and drops them into William’s outstretched hands.

“Excellent,” William says, and begins to juggle them himself. Unlike Dick, he does it like it’s easy, talking as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Who taught you that?”

“Ahmed,” Dick says. “He was our juggler. He could do knives.”

William adds another ball into the rotation, smoothly drawing it from his coat. “I can juggle knives too. Unfortunately, visitors aren’t allowed to bring those.”

Dick thinks that’s probably a good idea. He doesn’t want to see what the other boys would do with knives.

“If I take you out of here,” William offers, “I could show you.”

“Could you really?” Dick asks. He feels like he’s tripping headfirst down a hill in his excitement. He wants to leave. He wants to escape. And William is offering him a way out.

“Yes,” William says. “I’m working on it. I’ll be back before you know it.” He catches the juggling balls one by one, and Dick notices that he’s worked up to twelve—one more than the world record.

Dick hates normal adults, but William isn’t normal.

“I’d like that,” he says.

---

William comes back for him, just as promised. The youth center gives him his clothes back, his bag, his stuffed elephant, and Dick can feel his heart soaring. As he walks away from the barbed-wire-topped gates, William’s fingers dig into his shoulder like talons.

Dick winces. “You’re—you’re holding me too tight.”

William’s grip relaxes, and Dick lets the smile slip back onto his face. He ignores the twinge of unease, burying it deep inside.

---

William takes him to a strange building, and they take an elevator deep underground. His new guardian—that’s what the “social worker” called William—leads him down a long, marble corridor.

“Where are we going?” Dick asks.

“To your new home,” William tells him.

Dick inches closer to William’s side. “This is kind of scary,” he says. “Not that I’m scared. But it’s kind of scary.”

“You are above that,” William says.

The corridor opens into a large, circular room. At the center of it is a large statue of an owl, gleaming white. Dick doesn’t know where the light is coming from.

Hands trembling, Dick reaches into his bag and pulls out Zitka. He holds the stuffed animal close to his chest, digging his fingers into her soft fabric.

William reaches out and pulls Zitka away.

It takes Dick a moment to process, but when he does, anger fills him. “Give her back!” He says, stamping his foot. “She’s not yours, she’s mine! Give her back!”

William watches him, eyes unblinking. “You don’t need a toy, Dick.”

“You can’t take her!” Dick insists.

“Watch,” William says, stowing Zitka in his coat and pulling out six long, sharp knives. He begins to juggle them, and Dick watches as the blades glint in the unnatural light. “Doesn’t it look fascinating?”

“I want Zitka back,” Dick insists.

William sighs, and this time, he pulls out three blunt knives. “If you can learn to juggle these, I will return your toy to you. Does that sound fair?”

It’s not a nice question. When adults say that, you always have to answer ‘yes.’

---

William takes him to a room with a bed and turns off the lights. “The bathroom’s through that door,” he says. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

William shuts the door, plunging Dick into darkness. He hears the lock click.

---

The next day, William hands him a wooden sword and tells him that they will practice fighting. Dick doesn’t think this is a normal thing to do, but he doesn’t like normal. William said he knows Pop Haly’s family; maybe he’s from another circus, where they fight with wooden swords.

Dick ends the day bruised and exhausted. William sends him to his room. Dick shudders, pulling his thin blankets over him and wishing they protected him from the cold.

Each day passes much the same. William shows him a dummy and tells him which spots to hit. They’re circled in red, with words on them. Heart. Carotid. Kidney. Dick doesn’t think he’s training for a circus anymore.

“I don’t understand,” he says.

William puts a hand on his shoulder. “I serve an organization, called the Court of Owls.”

“Is that like Haly’s circus?”

William gives Dick’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, just an ounce too tight. “Almost. Like your circus, they gave me a home. A place. A life. They will give you one too.”

“What if I don’t want it?” Dick asks.

William’s face darkens and his hand grows tighter. Dick flinches, but William doesn’t let him escape. “You will.”

Dick practices. He graduates from a wooden sword to a real one. He learns to juggle the dull knives and does it for hours under William’s watchful eye. When William hands him sharp ones to try, Dick thinks of asking for Zitka back. That was, after all, the deal. But he doesn’t think his request would be well-received.

“Good,” William says, and pride shoots through Dick, but also fear. So much fear. He doesn’t like what he’s becoming. “Good.”

---

“There is a procedure,” William says, when too many days have passed for Dick to keep track of the time. He isn’t wearing his makeup today. Dick can see how pale William’s face is, like a corpse. The way his black veins twist across his skin. “It makes you strong, like me. So people can’t kill you, like they did to your parents.”

“What…what does that mean?” Dick asks.

William smiles. There’s an edge to it. Dick tries not to let his fear show. He’s been doing that a lot, these days. “They’ll give you some medicine,” William says. “And it’ll help you. Protect you. After the procedure, you can take your place at my side.”

“With the Owls,” Dick says.

“With the Owls,” William agrees. “You are almost ready.”

Dick looks at William’s face. He doesn’t think he wants to be ready. But he doesn’t dare speak.

---

“Tomorrow,” William says, holding out a hand to help Dick pull himself off the ground. He’s bleeding from shallow cuts, the product of sparring with real swords. William says those wounds won’t matter after the procedure. The procedure will protect him, and they’ll barely hurt anymore.

Dick can’t help but think that they also wouldn’t hurt if William didn’t insist on inflicting them.

“Tomorrow, you will join me as a Talon.”

“I—” Dick knows, by now, that if he says he doesn’t want to be a Talon, he will be ignored. “What will I do, as a Talon?” He asks instead.

William runs his fingers through Dick’s hair. It’s grown long, tickling at his jaw. That’s how Dick knows that he has to have been here for a while, even though he he’s lost track of the days. “There are people that pose a threat to the Court,” William tells him calmly. “You will remove them.”

“I’ll…put them in jail?” Dick asks, even though…even though William has not been training him to put people in jail.

“You will kill them,” William says. As if murder wasn’t what stole Dick’s parents from him.

“How many?” Dick asks. He thinks that if he could see himself in a mirror, his face would look almost as pale as William’s.

“As many as the Court requires.”

---

Dick doesn’t want to be a Talon. He doesn’t want to kill for people he’s never even met, even if William says he owes them his life.

Dick had a life before the Court, before William, and it was with the circus. It was with Pop Haly and dat and dej and they never would’ve wanted him to do this. His mother called him Robin. The first bird of spring. A symbol of joy, of hope, of renewal. Not of death. Never of death.

That night, Dick lies awake, terrified. He doesn’t want to go to sleep and become a Talon when he wakes up.

He likes William, but William is scary, sometimes, and as time went on, sometimes became all the time, and now—

—Dick doesn’t think he likes William very much, anymore.

Run, Robin, run! His mother cries out in his mind, and Dick shoots out of bed.

---

Dick races down the corridor, trying desperately to remember the way out. As the days have passed, William has moved him to rooms deeper and deeper into the complex.

Dick pleads that his memory is right.

His feet are bare—William didn’t give him any socks or shoes. Dick wonders if that was on purpose, to prevent him from escaping.

But he’s climbed rock-faces barefoot before with the other circus kids. A marble corridor isn’t going to phase him.

Left. Right. Right. Left. Sharp left. Secret door. Left. Left. Right. And—there.

Dick mashes the up button on the elevator and steps into it, knees shaking as he feels the floor rising underneath him, carrying him up from the ground. Until, halfway, the elevator grinds to a stop.

No.

Dick will not fail now.

He remembers that in movies, people climb out the top of elevators. This is an old one, so he’s able to scale the grated door and push out a panel in the elevator’s ceiling. There’s a metal cable, there, stretching up, up, up.

Dick climbs.

It hurts his fingers, but he climbs.

When he reaches the top, he presses at the buttons by the steel doors until they slide open. There, Dick finds William waiting for him.

“What are you doing?” William asks, as Dick leaps onto the floor.

Dick juts out his chin. “I don’t want to be a Talon.”

“It’s your destiny, Dick,” William says, tilting Dick’s chin up so Dick has to look him in his unblinking yellow eyes.

“I don’t care,” Dick says, stepping to the side and batting William’s hand away.

“You don’t mean that,” William says. “I saved you from that prison, Dick. I brought you here, so you could become a Talon.” Dick’s heart aches. He knows that William probably only wanted him for the Owls, but having the confirmation still hurts. “You belong here. With me. Don’t you want to stay?”

“No,” Dick says. “I don’t want to be here, so you have to let me go. It’s the law.”

But he doesn’t think the law applies to William. Or if it does, Dick doesn’t think William would care. “I can’t do that,” William says. “You belong here. If I have to hurt you for you to see it, I will. I don’t want to, but I will. Do you understand me, Dick?”

“You’ll hurt me?” Dick asks. William has hurt him already, but in little ways. Bruises and cuts while they trained. The way William says it this time seems worse.

“The Owls have ways to make the Talons listen to them. I didn’t want to have to use them on you. But they demand absolute loyalty.”

“What will they do to me?”

“They will take you apart and study you piece by piece, every organ on display, and then they will stitch you back together. You will be awake the whole time. It will hurt. They will put you somewhere very, very cold until you listen to them. They will make you forget your name, your parents, everything except Talon. I want to spare you that, Dick.”

“I—” Dick trembles. “I—” He feels his knees collapse under him. William catches him and holds him close. “I’m sorry,” Dick whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, until his hand closes around the hilt of one of the sharp knives tucked into his belt. The ones that William gave him when he graduated from the dull practice ones.

In a single, practiced motion, Dick swipes up and slices a blade across William’s throat.

The Talon releases him instantly, wound gushing black blood. Dick feels his stomach churn. The wound is already starting to heal.

“You’ll regret that,” William hisses.

“No,” Dick says, as he lunges forward and slices William’s neck again, “I won’t. I’m not your Talon. I don’t serve the Owls. I’m a Robin.”

William taught him how to fight. William taught him how to kill.

William’s head falls to the floor, and Dick screams.

---

The first time Dick steals, his hands tremble, and the man catches Dick with his hand halfway into his pocket. Dick runs.

The next time, he forces his hands still and he doesn’t get caught.

Stealing is wrong, but so is killing, and Dick killed William. William saved him, protected him, tried to give him purpose the only way he knew how, and Dick killed him.

He can’t bring himself to regret murder, so he doesn’t regret stealing either.

And the streets—the streets are so, so cold.

---

The years pass, and Dick grows accustomed to the cold—and the starvation, the fear, the danger. He knows how to clock which passersby are targets for his sticky fingers and which he should avoid and which he should absolutely avoid at all costs.

He tries performing acrobatics in the city’s squares, but every time the authorities catch him, he has to move locations, and eventually he’s exhausted all the good ones. It lasts him through the winter, at least, and the next winter he’s able to try again.

Dick missed his ninth birthday in his six months with William. He spends his tenth waiting out a late snowstorm in the cheapest motel room he could find and fighting off the thieves who try to enter. They run. Dick doesn’t kill them. He doesn’t think they’ll mess with him again.

Dick turns eleven. An older kid on the street tries to take the money he picks off a lady with a pearl necklace, and Dick punches him in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him and forces him into an armlock. “Yer good, for a runt.” Dick knows that he’s good for anyone, runt or not. He killed a Talon, after all. “Y’know,” the boy says, “I’ve got a job. Could use some help. Little security.”

“How much?”

“I just gotta listen in on somethin’ goin’ down in this warehouse over on 41st and 3rd. Fifty whole dollars. We can split it. Thirty me, twenty you.”

“Twenty-five,” Dick says. The boy agrees too easily. Dick goes anyway; he needs the money.

At the first sign of trouble, the boy pushes Dick out of their hiding place and makes a break for it. Dick ends up fighting off two of Maroni’s men and saving the boy’s hide. He makes the older boy take him back to his boss and splits the money with him fifty-fifty. “You can call me Mark,” the boy says. “I’m thirteen.”

“I’m Dick,” Dick says. “And I’m eleven.”

“Might wanna choose a different name.”

It’s not the first day of spring, but the weather’s starting to get warmer. Crocuses are sprouting through the pavement—though that might be Poison Ivy’s doing, more than anything else. “Robin,” Dick decides. “I’m Robin.”

He thinks he might have made a friend.

---

Mark hunts for information and sells tidbits of it to the highest bidder. Listens in on mob deals. Roots through the trash for information. With Dick at his side, he gets bolder. Instead of a supplement, information becomes their main dealing.

On Dick’s twelfth birthday, they steal donuts from a stand outside some sort of ritzy novelty donut store and run. When the owner comes chasing after them, they shove the donuts in their mouths and look all innocent, and by then the owner’s spotted more street kids trying to steal the donuts, so he has to rush back.

“I think,” Mark says, as they sit on a rooftop, “this is some kind of good deed or something.”

“Yeah?” Dick asks.

“Yeah.” Mark points at two kids huddled in a nearby alley, chowing down on their stolen donuts. They look about eight or nine. The age Dick was when he entered the streets.

On Dick’s thirteenth birthday, he has no one to celebrate. Mark double-crossed the wrong crime lord and ended up in Gotham Harbor.

From then on, Dick works alone. That is, until he finds a scrappy ten-year-old attempting to whack two guys with a tire iron.

---

“Jason Todd,” the kid introduces himself, once Dick’s sent the guys running and convinced the kid that he wasn’t going to kidnap him and sell him to human traffickers. He looks cleaner than most street kids, not quite as hungry, his clothes not entirely torn. But no ten-year-old would be jacking tires at midnight if he had a family at home.

Dick doesn’t know why he brought the kid back to his hideout, why he decided to share his limited medical supplies, but he did.

“Robin,” Dick tells him, as he wraps a bandage around a nasty cut on Jason’s arm. “How did you get this, Jason?”

Jason shrugs.

“C’mon.”

“When my mom died, they tried to put me in a group home,” Jason says. Dick’s heart sinks. “I wanted out. The mob that ran the place took exception to that.”

“Are they looking for you?” Dick asks. Many of the group homes in Gotham are in league with someone, but the mob ones are rare. If Jason ended up at one of those, his parents might have been involved in something dangerous.

“Don’t know,” Jason says. “Sure they got worse problems to worry ‘bout than me. Can I go now?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “I’m not keeping you here.”

The kid climbs out his window, and Dick shakes off the urge to stop him.

---

Dick doesn’t like working for Gotham Rogues, but as time has gone by, the mobs have slowly phased out and the Rogues have phased in. He refuses to tangle with the Joker or Scarecrow, but he occasionally collects information for Ivy or Penguin. Two-Face, well, Dick would rather not be anywhere near him, but he’s not the kind of guy you can refuse.

It’s while infiltrating casino security systems for Two-Face that Dick hears about Willis Todd, the traitor. Two-Face has him killed in jail, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. He paces and paces and paces about, until someone suggests going after Willis Todd’s boy, Jason.

Dick’s heart stops in his chest, as Two-Face pauses his pacing.

“There’s an idea,” he says. He flips his coin in the air, and his lips twist into a vicious grin. “Bad heads. Guess that boy’s out of luck.”

No.

---

As a rule, Dick tries not to get involved. He runs information and he fights off any attackers, but he never gets involved in anyone’s actual operations. It’s not his job.

But while it was easy for Dick to not particularly care about various criminals killing each other, he can’t let that grumpy little ten-year-old get killed. Not when he knows that Two-Face is going after him.

Dick searches through the city and finds Jason in Crime Alley, shivering behind a dumpster.

“You’re in danger,” he warns.

“I’m always in danger,” Jason says. “What, here to kidnap me, Robin?”

“I’m here to protect you.”

Jason doesn’t believe him.

So Dick watches. He’s good at watching. He watches as Jason picks pockets and steals tires. He watches for two weeks, until he’s almost convinced that there’s no point in watching at all. And then, he sees five of Two-Face’s men corner the kid in an alleyway.

Dick drops down, joining the fray. Only, these are no ordinary goons. They fight like men possessed, like they’re doped up on some sort of substance—and Dick knows, from his recent surveillance of Ivy, that they probably are. Dick still has the knives William gave him, even after all these years. For once, he uses them. He may be out of practice, but, well, he doesn’t need much practice to shove a sharp object into a man’s gut and twist.

“R-robin?” Jason asks, voice shaky, as three of the men run away. Two lie on the cobblestones, dead.

Dick knows that if he hadn’t met William, such a display would’ve terrified him. He inclines his head. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

“Thank you,” Jason says. And then, despite the fact that Dick is carrying sharp knives and has just committed two murders, the kid rushes forward and wraps his arms around Dick’s waist. Dick returns the hug. He missed hugs so much, and this—

—this is the best.

“I killed them, Jay,” Dick says.

“Those men, they hung around my dad,” Jason says. “They were…they were real mean.”

Dick pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders. He keeps his touch light, so Jason can easily draw away at any time. He’s dangerous. Jason shouldn’t want to be held by him. But the kid just keeps clinging. “I have a place to stay,” Dick offers.

And Jason—Jason accepts.

---

After defeating Two-Face’s men, Dick has to go back on the down-low for a while. No more major information-gathering, just tiny crumbs here and there. But with him and Jason living together, they can split the work. Dick teaches him all the best pickpocketing tricks, all the ways to hide on alleyways and rooftops, how to know which information is worth selling. Jason teaches him how to jack tires and how to make himself sound more like a Crime Alley native and the stories his mom used to tell him.

Dick learns that Jason loves reading and adds books from charity stores to their limited budget. He watches Jason curl up at night with one of their flashlights, poring over Jane Austen and Emily Dickinson and Shakespeare. Sometimes, he reads them out loud, and Dick listens, providing commentary. With the Shakespeare, Jason often asks Dick to read for different characters, so they can have a mini play in their ramshackle hide-out.

It makes Dick feel like he’s almost good, for the first time since his parents fell.

---

“Little Wing?” Jason echoes, wrinkling his nose.

Dick pulls him closer as they huddle together for warmth. It’s a long, cold winter. “Because I’m Robin. And you’re little. So you’re Little Wing!”

“I’m not a bird,” Jason sulks.

“Well, then,” Dick says. “I’ll just have to teach you to fly.”

---

Rooftops are no match for Robin and his Blue Jay apprentice. Neither, they decide, are the tops of trains. It’s dangerous. It’s stupid. But Dick is sixteen and Jason is eleven. They should be playing games with their classmates in school, and this is the closest they can get.

“Watch me, Little Wing!” Dick calls, doing a flip on top of the moving train. “Wait, no, don’t copy me, Jay—"

---

“My real name,” Dick says one day, “is Richard Grayson. I was part of a travelling circus.”

Jason laughs. “Pull the other one.”

“Really! My best friend was an elephant and everything.” Dick’s heart pangs as he thinks of Little Zitka. He never did get her back from William. But he’s sixteen now, and far too old for stuffed animals anyway.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well,” Dick says, “then I’ll just have to convince you.”

---

All good things must come to an end. Jason says he’s going out, and he never comes back. Dick spends days asking around, and the rumors are conclusive: Batman found a boy trying to steal his tires and stole him instead.

Dick thinks back to when he first met Batman, with his cape and cowl and funny suit. Dick had thought that, just because he wasn’t normal like the other adults, he could be trusted.

But Dick knows better now. In the circus, strange was good. Strange was safe. But in Gotham? Strange is Two-Face and Joker and Scarecrow. Strange is William. And Dick can’t trust normal or strange.

Dick knows he can’t go up against Batman, even with six months of training to be a Talon, even with his experience fighting on the streets. He should just leave it and move on.

But Jay—

Wherever he is, he must be so scared.

Batman may not serve the Court of Owls and he may not kill, but he still hunts on the streets at night. Just like a Talon. And Dick will never leave Jason in the hands of a man like William.

---

Poking around inevitably gets Dick caught. Trapped between Batman and the police department, he makes the obvious decision, and gets picked up by social services. He’ll be out within a day.

Only, apparently, he’s the subject of an eight-year-long missing person case, several conspiracy theories, and a never-ending investigation. With everyone watching him, it’s impossible for Dick to slip through the cracks.

It’s the same story that happened eight years ago. No room in the system. Dick is sixteen and a runaway and everyone knows he’s a thief. No one’s going to adopt him, and he probably belongs in jail anyway.

They send him to the youth center again. This time, Dick can’t say he blames them.

---

Dick stretches down and lazily pushes into a handstand, wandering around upside-down as he thinks.

“Quit it, Richie,” his cellmate grunts from the top bunk.

“Fuck you,” Dick responds, balancing on one hand to give the guy the middle finger.

“I said quit it!”

It’s not a battle worth fighting. Dick sighs, walking himself back into a standing position. He lets himself fall down onto the bottom bunk, bouncing his foot.

Dick just has to wait a couple of days for this all to blow over, and then he can escape back onto the streets and continue his search for Jason. But the waiting is so, so painful. How does he know that Batman isn’t a Talon? Just because people say he doesn’t kill doesn’t mean it’s actually true. Jason could be alone with a Talon.

What if Dick didn’t actually kill William for good? What if that man has is little brother, right now? What if he’s doing all those things he said the Court did to Talons to make them obey?

Dick is startled out of his thoughts by the cell door clanging open. “C’mon,” the guard says.

“Where are we going?” Dick asks, but as usual, the adult doesn’t listen to him. They never do, unless Dick is useful, and here? Dick is useless.

The guard leads him to the social worker. Dick knows she’s the social worker because she has the same, pinched-looking face that he’d remember for a thousand years. Her hair is put up into the same tight bun, only now it’s streaked with grey. “Congratulations, Richard,” she says. “You’re being fostered.”

Dick’s first thought is that it has to be the Court, but he immediately dismisses the idea. Since he got rid of William, the Court’s been predictable about where they popped up, and they’ve never made a move on him. Dick is seventeen. All they have to do is wait six months and then they wouldn’t have to even bother with CPP. It would be stupid for the Court to have engineered this.

But Dick knows that seventeen-year-olds don’t just get fostered.

“Now?” He asks incredulously.

“Yes, now,” the woman snaps.

“Don’t I have anything to say about this?”

The social worker—Ms. Cleary, she introduced herself, apparently seventeen-year-old Dick is more worthy of her name than eight-year-old Dick was—scoffs. “Just be grateful you’re being fostered.”

“But…shouldn’t I at least meet the guy first?” Dick asks. That’s how it had worked with William—not that it had done any good at the time.

“Mr. Wayne is not some ‘guy,’ Richard,” Cleary tells him sharply. “He is one of Gotham’s first citizens.”

“One of Gotham’s first citizens,” Dick mutters under his breath. “Yeah, right.” He’s heard of ‘Mr. Wayne.’ Not involved in any organized crime, any smuggling business, any anything. He just goes to parties and donates absurd amounts of money to causes that barely help at all. Wayne isn’t particularly powerful or influential, not in the underworld where it really matters. He’s just rich.

“You’ll show him the proper respect.”

“Sure.”

Outside of the youth center, Dick can see birds perched on the barbed-wire-topped fence. He wonders if any of them are robins.

“Hello, Richard,” the man says, holding out a hand for Dick to shake. Dick eyes it distrustfully.

“Richard,” Cleary hisses, and Dick rolls his eyes and shakes Wayne’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Bruce says. “You’ll be my ward until you’ve turned eighteen.”

“Why?” Dick asks.

“Don’t mind him,” Cleary says loudly.

Wayne blinks. William didn’t blink. “It’s a reasonable question, Ms. Cleary.” He turns to Dick. “I was there that night at the circus. I had wanted to foster you, but you went missing before I could.”

“Went missing?” Dick asks. He hadn’t spared much thought for what he was registered as in the foster system, just that he couldn’t be caught by them.

“Yes, you disappeared one night, you’ll remember,” Ms. Cleary says. “We suspected you ran. No body was ever found. It was such a relief when you turned up.”

But that’s wrong. They handed him off to William. He had always—he had always thought that that part, at least, was legitimate.

Dick can see Wayne’s eyes flickering between him and Cleary with far too much intelligence for the bumbling idiot Bruce Wayne. “Let’s just go,” Dick says. He doesn’t have a bag to hoist over his shoulder, just his brown pants and the grey-green shirt on his back that reads “Gotham.” Dick thinks it’s right, this time. He does belong to the city.

It turns out that Wayne isn’t driving. Instead that’s handled by his butler. Wayne sits in the back seat with Dick. Dick tries to avoid his searching gaze.

“If you let me out here,” Dick says, “you can just tell them I ran away. I’m a flight risk, apparently.”

“Apparently,” Wayne echoes. He shakes his head. “I meant what I said. I have another ward. He’s currently staying with a friend of mine, but he’ll be back in a few days. I wish I could have taken you in earlier, but at least this way, I can help you as best I can.”

“Help me?” Dick rolls his eyes. “I don’t need help, Wayne. Just give me six months and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Call me Bruce,” Wayne says. Dick thinks he won’t, thank you very much. “Do you have a nickname, Richard?”

Dick can’t hide the flinch. (William asked the same question. William cared, only so he could use it against him.)

Wayne frowns. “Alright. I am…truly sorry that I wasn’t able to help you earlier.”

“Not your fault,” Dick shrugs. “I ran away, didn’t you hear?”

“No,” Wayne says deep in thought. “I don’t think you did.”

Dick refuses to talk the rest of the car ride.

---

Alfred shows him to his room and tells him to be down for dinner in an hour. Dick doesn’t go. He wants to see what will happen. If Wayne will tire of him, or get angry, or what. Alfred knocks on his door. “It is time for dinner, Master Richard.”

Dick could play this out further, but he’s hungry. He goes downstairs and stares suspiciously at the food Alfred serves him.

“Is it not to your liking?”

The food smells delicious. Dick’s more worried that it’s drugged.

But he has to sleep eventually, and if they wanted, Wayne and Alfred could drug him then. So he eats the food.

When he goes to bed that night, he locks the door and barricades it with a desk and a chair and he’s not even really sure why.

---

Over the next few days, Dick dodges Wayne’s attempts to talk to him. He won’t let himself be sucked into something. As soon as Wayne gets bored of him, Dick can be back on the streets, searching for Jason. Only, Wayne doesn’t seem to be getting bored easily.

Dick takes the GED study books that Alfred hands him. He thinks Jason would’ve loved the literature one.

Hell, Jason would’ve loved everything about this place. The food, the butler like out of one of his mystery novels, the library. But Jason has been kidnapped by Batman. By now, he could be dead, or worse.

“My other ward is coming home tonight,” Wayne tells Dick at dinner. “I’d like you to meet him.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dick bets it’s some snotty rich kid. At least if he can offend the brat, then Wayne might finally kick him out. Dick’s starting to get desperate, and he’s only a couple days away from moving from backtalk and eyerolling to outright theft. It’s a fine line to walk; troublesome enough that Wayne doesn’t care about him anymore, but not so troublesome that he ends up having to deal with the cops.

---

Dick stands by the door with Wayne. The man tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but the second Dick flinched, Wayne started apologizing, and Dick had called him Bruce just to shut him up. It’s pretty clear, at this point, that Wayne is nothing like William. He’s just an idiot.

The doorbell rings, and in walks a tall man with glasses, who looks like he’s trying to hide himself by curling inwards. And behind him—behind him is—

“Jason?” Dick can’t help but gasp.

“Robin?”

And before Dick can ask what the heck is going on, Jason has rushed forwards and wrapped himself around Dick, clinging to him like a barnacle.

“I…see you’ve already met?” Wayne asks awkwardly.

“Little Wing,” Dick says. Jason may be clinging to him like a barnacle, but Dick isn’t letting go anytime soon either. “I thought—Batman got you.”

Out of the corner of Dick’s eye, he sees Wayne pale. Shit.

Dick extracts himself from Jason’s grasp and turns to face Wayne, putting himself in front of Jason like a shield.

“Wait,” Jason says, tugging on Dick’s sleeve. “He’s safe. I promise.”

Dick knows better than to trust an adult. But Jason pulls him upstairs and, well, as long as Dick is watching his Little Wing, he knows he’s safe. That’s enough for now.

---

Dick’s used to hiding. Jason might not know where Batman works, but it’s easy enough for Dick to stay up and track him downstairs to his study, to turn the hands of the clock, to walk down into the cave underneath Wayne Manor. Jason said that Wayne is safe, but Dick had thought that William was safe too. Kids can be tricked.

Dick watches as Wayne performs stretches, looks something up on the Batcomputer, frowns. It doesn’t seem like he’s keeping any kids prisoner down here, at least. Dick slips through the cave to a row of what appear to be holding cells. No one is there.

“Richard.”

Dick startles, turning around to see Wayne watching him. He’s wearing the Batman costume now, though the cowl isn’t on yet. “Wayne,” Dick says.

Wayne sighs. “Please just call me Bruce.”

“Batman,” Dick says, because Wayne clearly takes exception to the use of his last name, but he can’t protestthis.

“How did you find the cave?” Wayne asks.

Dick shrugs. “Followed you.” He walks over to the Batcomputer to look at the screen, careful to keep Wayne within his peripheral vision. “Why did you really decide to foster us?”

Wayne pauses. “I’m…not sure what you mean?”

Dick walks over to the training mats, where there’s a wall of weapons. He withdraws two knives, twirling them with his fingers. “I won’t let you train Jason,” he says.

Wayne props his elbow on the desk with the Batcomputer and rests his chin in his hand. He watches Dick, gaze scrutinizing. “Someone trained you.”

Dick thinks for a moment. The Court, he could deal with. With William gone, they didn’t seem particularly interested in him anymore. But Batman? Dick doesn’t think he and Jason would be able to avoid Batman for long. And Batman, well, he hunts criminals and he supposedly doesn’t kill. There are worse monsters to serve.

Dick isn’t a child anymore. Jason is.

“Yes,” he says. Dick looks over at the training dummies and tries to blink the visions of the Court’s marble corridors from his eyes. He lets the knives fly from his hands and embed themselves in two of the dummies’ hearts. “Whatever you want, my help will be more than enough.”

A pained expression flickers across Wayne’s face. “I didn’t bring Jason or you here to train.”

Dick doesn’t believe him. He’s long past falling for pretty lies.

“I swear,” Wayne says. “If you want, you will never have to fight again.”

Like Dick has ever had a choice. He doesn’t know what to say, so he falls back on the bottom line. “If you try to train Jason, I’ll kill you.”

Wayne’s mouth opens and then closes. “That won’t be necessary,” he says eventually. “Someone hurt you, Richard. I know it’s difficult to believe I won’t do the same, but I promise. I won’t hurt you or Jason, and I won’t ever make you do something you don’t want to do.” Dick meets Wayne’s eyes, watches his emotions swirl within the blue irises. Wayne blinks first. “I hope you can let me prove it to you.”

Dick doesn’t know quite what to say to that. Wayne seems too good to be true, just like William did. Dick has no reason to trust him.

But Dick doesn’t need to trust Bruce to give him a chance.

“Dick,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“It’s my nickname. No one calls me Richard. My name’s Dick Grayson.”

#fanfiction #dick grayson #william cobb #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #talon dick grayson #batman fanfiction #dc #dcu #dc comics #dick grayson fanfiction #dc fanfiction #fanfic

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starlightshadowsworld · 7 months

Text

Five nights at Freddy’s but it's Batman.

If you were expecting this to make sense....Don't.

I started ranting about this while half asleep.

I'm not following any time line just game order.

Also we're skipping fnaf 2.

Barbara Gordon is Charlotte "Charlie" Emily.

She is killed by Joe Chill aka the Joker aka William Afton aka the Purple Guy.

Her father, Jim Gordon aka Henry Emily is devastated. He has no idea how this occurred.

Not a clue.

Totally didn't see the purple car at the crime scene.

A purple car he sees every morning.

... Nope.

He goes to the cops but it's Gotham so they don't do shit.

However, because it's Gotham Batman shows up to help.

But unfortunately no one knows who killed poor Babs so gotta do some investigating.

Also there's been a string of dissappearances around the restaurant.

People are loving calling it "the missing children's incident."

And the cops are doing nothing so Batman is also investigating that and wonders if the two are connected.

Bat's makes the great decision to go undercover as a nighttime security guard.

And despite the fact he is very clearly billionaire Bruce Wayne in a security uniform.

No one recognises him.

He is now Mike Schmidt.

... You know still a better name for his cover than Matches Malone.

And because I recently watched Batman: The Doom that came to Gotham.

Great, one of the weirdest things I've ever watched.

... Don't watch it if you like Talia because... Yikes.

Anyway, so Bruce is very much on his fear works because villians are superstitious and cowardly.

I don't believe in magic, everything can be explained by science.

...And than Golden Freddy bursts into the office.

Had to rework a few things than.

It takes him less than 5 nights to figure it all out.

Beats the shit out of and gets Joe Chill arrested.

But it's Gotham and FNAF so it doesn't even go that far.

Not that they know for years later.

During this time Bruce adopts another kid, Jason.

Yeah Dick is here but he left to another city.

He's officially the smart one.

No he doesn't have a character equivalent he's just... There.

Jason however later turns out to be Jason Chill aka the son of Joe Chill.

Aka this worlds Michael Afton.

Gets wind his real father isnt Willis Todd but Joe Chill.

Goes after him, despite him being in hiding for years.

Does this by working at Fazbear Frights as a nighttime security guard.

Witnesses Joe Chill destroying the animatronics.

Releasing the spirits and causing Joe Chill to back into his Spring lock suite.

Multiple springlock failures occure.

Jason gets on tape that he's the murderer and killed Barbara Gordon.

Bruce and Jim show up and together they set the place on fire with Joe Chill's body inside.

But no body is ever found.

One of the old locations starts up again.

Bruce finds out Joe Chill had another son, and adopts him.

Leaving out the whole... We set him on fire.. Maybe.

This kid is Tim Chill aka the crying child.

Who Jason likes to mess with and Tim messes with him back in turn.

Jason plays a seemingly harmless prank on Tim... That he ends up taking too far.

And in his defence no one knew that the Golden Freddy animatronic had the jaw strength of a shark.

Bruce goes into mourning.

The body goes missing.

Jason wanting to fix things does his own investigation and finds Circus Baby's entertainment and rentals.

Ran by Chill robotics.

Turns out Joe Chill decided to literally put his child back together.

And infused Baby with his remnant.

His lil clown.

Though both sides of Tim, both Joker Jr and the brother of Jason fight over Jason's fate.

Whether he should live or die.

Joker Jr I mean Baby wins and Jason is scooped.

Dick, who was staying in Gotham for Tim's funeral, realises Jason has gone missing.

And goes out to search for him.

Finding the his brother now a disturbing shade of purple and an undead zombie.

Gets Jason back home, Jason is basically catatonic only repeating "You won't die, you won't die" over and over.

Bruce gives him a big hug, apologising for blaming Jason and pushing him away.

Though Jason is convinced Tim's fate is his fault.

He ends up puking up Ennard, which Bruce captures and puts in the Batcave.

They take what's left of Baby and upload Tim's consciousness to a robotic version of him Jim just... Had on hand.

Along with a robot Barbara.

... Yeah don't, don't worry about it.

Jason apologises profusely, Tim calls him a dumbass, things are finally right with the world.

Butt this isn't enough for Jim who realises an animatronic can't replace his Barbara.

Decides if I can't have my happy ending none of you can.

Has a redo birthday party for Tim and sets the place on fire.

... Except it does literally nothing and Bruce shoves him in Arkham and just takes Babs back with him.

Way to go smart guy.

Damian Wayne aka Gregory shows up at some point. He got told he couldn't go to the pizzaplex.

And went anyway.

Gave everyone a heart attack, stole Glamrock Freddy and made a friend in Cassandra Cain aka Vanessa.

A trained assassin who Joe Chill was trying to hypnotise into killing for him.

They tried to kill each other if the cause of a night so they're friends now.

Bruce adopts another child all is well with the world.

Until Jonathan Kent aka Cassie shows up because of a fake message luring him to the pizzaplex saying Damian was in danger.

The mimic gets it's butt kicked, Bruce lectures Clark about not keeping an eye on his son.

The hypocrite.

And everyone goes home.

Oh and Jim and his wife got divorced when Babs died.

His wife taking and raising their son, James Gordon Jr aka Sammy Emily.

Who's just off living life and is still a serial killer.

Soo... Yeah.

... Idk what this is but it exists now.

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

Note

Hi love! I’m not sure if I requested this here or not (so if I did please ignore this and know I’m terribly sorry for asking again, I have a garbage memory) but if I didn’t, can I request an Eddie x reader fic where they’ve been in an established relationship (maybe like a year or 2). How do you think they would celebrate their anniversary? Like how do you think Eddie would be in particular, cuz I can see that lovable goofball being an anxious mess because he wants to do so much. But I’m interested to see what you think would happen in this sort of scenario, cuz you write Eddie so damn good ;)

Ok ok hear me out on this one cause I can so picture something: and it goes a little like this-

🍁love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you🍁

Eddie yowled in front of you like a startled cat. You’d swear if he could, he’d raise his spiky hackles on end.

Does that thing with his arms, where he goes all shrivelled and squirrely. Mouth wide and shaped like a kidney bean as he shrieks.

Bravely though, batting the stuffed clowns cackling head, that just sprang out the shredded walls at you.

You’re lost wandering deep within the twisted seedy belly of the haunted house maze.

He punched his fist into the soft squish of the dummies head. Tufts of coarse blueberry coloured hair. Bulging chilli red eyes popping out at the pair of you. Grin all macabre on its stupid rubbery painted face.

He hates clowns. Doesn’t even like the one in that Bowie video.

“Fucker.” He hissed as he swiped at it again. Heart racing hummingbird fast in his throat.

Crushed his metal rings into it again, just because. Grits his teeth. He’s on edge.

Why did he agree to this scare jumping, spine chilling fuckery again-

Cause it’s stupid and fun. Get in the Halloween spirit. You’d said.

Then gave him a deep, beautiful kiss that was all toffee apple and pink pink cotton candy. Your tongue furred with sugar and, damn, how he suddenly forgot why he was ever mad. Haunted what? Scared, who?

“I do not like this.” He tells you.

Kept telling you, actually. His eyes go darting around corners. Gaze scanning ahead like you were tiptoeing enemies in a live war-zone.

“You’ve said that already.”

“And you apparently didn’t want to listen. So I’ll say it, once more, with feeling- I DON’T like this.” He repeats. Voice rising to a pitchy squeak.

He jiggles on the spot. Cagey. Jesus H Christ.

“Never again. I promise.” You smooth a hand to his chest and pat him on his Judas Priest shirt. Leaves warmth where you touch him that he’s too scared to enjoy right now.

“I mean what’s so wrong with the fucking bumper cars, honey? They don’t have dead fake mangled things everywhere with stuff popping out the walls- shit.”

He backs away sidewards, whimpers, edges away sudden, the wall next to him is broken wood slats and nails, with stubby zombie hands now poking through. Black rotting nails all split, half eaten flesh all green, yellow dirty bones exposed. Grunts of the undead leak through from the other side. Searching for your living juicy meat.

“I ain’t got any brains for you to eat. Morons. Go swivel.” He defends. It makes you smile.

“You like horror movies, Eddie, I thought you’d find it cool.” You try to offer in your own defence for getting you both in here.

His hand squeezes yours. Tight. Clammy with sweat.

“You can turn a movie off. Princess. You can press pause or take the video out, leave the room. It’s a small screen you can manage. I didn’t say ‘yeah sure, honey, drop me onto the fucking set of Night of the living dead. I don’t mind’.” He snaps quickly in parody. He doesn’t mean it nastily.

Despite everything, you can’t help it. You chuckle. He looks at you with a very specific look in his eyes.

You feel his hands grip for your hips in your pretty dress. He comes up right close behind you. You feel his hair brushing dry at the back of your neck. His lips skate against the crown of your head.

“Oh you’re so in for it if we make it out of here alive.”

“Theres optimism.” You rib at him. Reaching back to cup your hand over his cheekbone.

“Vamonos.” He encourages. Sneaking down and patting your ass softly.

You pass along a section of hallway where the lights blink, maniacal Vincent Price-esque laughs bubble up all around you. Rolling through the maze and snatching at your running heels.

Ghosts in jangling dragging chains with arms outstretched. Apple green eyes glowing under the white sheet. Groans and wails. The lilac purple gothic room full of creepy eyeless dolls, a chirpy lullaby from a demented music box tinkling away.

‘Help’ crudely scrawled on the walls in sticky fingertip blood, hand smears too, in the mouldy white tiles of the crazy surgeons dungeon. Screams pierce. Fake amputated limbs scattered across the operating table. Blood tinged saws and knives.

Now. He goes into his famous Munson defence mode. Scurrying along and keeping you pulled behind him. Arms braced out with you bracketed between them. Pulling you into his back and offering his own front as your shield.

The Dio vested Knight he was, all chivalry and manners, putting himself at risk for love of you. His maiden. His one. Maid Marian to his Robin Hood. Or more likely, as he liked to think of it, Marianne Faithfull to his Mick Jagger. Much cooler.

You looped your fingers through his. Pulling him back to your side.

“Don’t worry. I’ll always protect you, big boy.” You wink at him. Makes his heart squeeze and flash faster when you do that. You lean in and nuzzle a kiss onto his jaw.

He pulls you in closer. Your chest brushing into his. A twitchy sort of frenzy on his face.

“I just want you to know. If we weren’t in this hellscape. I would be making out with you so hard right now.”

“Noted.” You beam. Pulling him along again, shadows roll and flick over a movement down the corridor in your peripheral. You strong arm him away before the chain saw guy with the peeling rubber face and “human skin” mask could catch you.

That split cherry soft of your grin. He’s so soft for it. Lips pink from that watermelon balm you use that he never lets linger for too long. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like the silky taste.

You laugh and shriek when a guy in a skeleton costume, comes bursting cunningly out the slanted shadows of a corner.

“Leaving so soon?” He snarls.

“Eat shit, bonehead.” Eddie fairly screeches, and tugs you along with him. Body blocking you. Reeling you along to, hopefully, the fucking exit of this creepy hell hole.

Halle-fucking-lujah. It’s up ahead on the right. The lovely big green arrows pointing to the exit. Salvation. Freedom.

He yanks on your wrist and you run full speed towards it. Ghoul hands painted blue make one last attempt to rip at your clothes. Eddie bats them away.

Not today fuckers. Me and my lady getting out of here-

It’s definitely a relief when you come to the cooling wash of night air outside. It was stuffy inside. The cramped space choking with the smell of warm tacky plastic, and stale air lining the horror laden walls. The night air is so thick and blue out here you could drink it. Sticky opium of a bruising fall night.

The air is throbbing deep with autumnal scents. Warm bubbling cider. Fried funnel cakes. Buttery caramel popcorn and soft pretzels studded with salt. That definable gooey orange scent that comes gouged out the insides of pumpkins, pitted with seeds.

The wind isn’t threaded with a biting cold yet, but it promises too, as the treacly night drags on. Leaves, the colour of gold and apricot, crunch and snap under your feet.

Your favourite time of year. The best. The slice of the cold that has you reaching for chunky sweaters. Cold knifing rain on grey dour windows and gloomy days. Splashing your boots into autumn puddles mucked with leaves.

Horror movies, carving pumpkins, and baking orange and black sprinkle cookies with Eddie in the trailer.

He always went full tilt overkill and added way way too many sprinkles. More sprinkles than cookie, really. Lacing the place with the scents of sugar and vanilla dough. And home. Sitting out on the porch with a warm cider in your hands chatting to Wayne as he smokes. Laughing at Eddie whining about washing the dishes- getting excited that the cookies were rising too.

Eddie takes a deep breath. Scanning up at the haunted house maze you’d just stumbled through. His hand still very much clutched on yours. He meant what he said. He’d never let go. Eddie keeps his word.

Although the truth be told, he made you promise you wouldn’t let his hand go the second you stepped inside that maze.

You hadn’t let go of this hand for two years. You weren’t planning to start now.

And yes, the full fact of being here again is crashing into your gut. Making you all mushy swooning and sentimental. It was your tradition after all-

“Come on. Handsome. Let’s go. I’ll buy you a corn dog as a reward for being so tough back in there. Protecting me.” You nudge his arm to bring him in.

He steps towards you and curls you into them. Rubbing his arms along your sides. Looping hands around the back of your waist. He doesn’t say anything but he’s definitely smiling down at you. His belly pressed to you. Tilts his head. Pensive look on his face.

You’re touching in so many places. All tangled and wrapped up in leather and denim like you usually are around him.

“What is it?” You ask him. Scanning that maniacal face and those deep puddles of oozing chocolate eyes for an answer.

“It’s been two years. To the exact day.” He says softly. His thumbs smoothing over the backs of your hips.

You smile at his recounting it. “Believe me. Munson. I remember.”

“We were arguing. On top of that very Ferris wheel. Two years ago. When I first asked you out.” He points behind your hip with his finger.

Up towards the huge circular ride studded with yellow and red bulbs all the way around. A huge golden eye of dragging slow metal brushed against the navy sky.

“I was winning the argument by the way.”

“You always do. Cause I’m such a peach. I let you.” He winks. Grins all big. Shiny teeth.

Mainly he loses cause he just skips up to you like a jester, spins you around, and kisses you until you’re smiling again.

“…And it was the fourth time you asked me out. To which I finally relented, and said yes. Only if I can pick the movie and we can get cotton candy afterwards.” You beamed.

“You didn’t tell me you very vehemently hated heights.” He teased.

“I went on that ride for the excuse of being sat next to you for ten minutes, you dope.” You tell him.

It rips a chuckle out that pillowy lovely mouth. You slip your arms around the back of his neck. Sway into him. Narrow your eyes when he laughed.

“It worked. I got to kiss you and I got a date. Even if you did break all the bones in my hand you squeezed it so hard.” He recalled. He had blue knuckles for three weeks. Swollen sore. He couldn’t play guitar for a month.

He drags one curled knuckle over your cheek. Those eyes of yours he loves - the eyes he’s a servant too - are brimming golden, bursting with the fairground lights glimmering all around you. Threaded chilli red in your hair too.

“And you bought me the most huge pink cotton candy I’d ever seen.”

“Shaped like a fucking heart.” He smiled.“You feral little thing. Ate it all in ten minutes.”

“You helped.” You pointed out.

He leaned in and brushed his nose across your cheek. Into the nest of your hair. Kisses your jaw. You chuckled and slipped your arm up his back.

“Kissed most of it off your lips.” He remembers in a soft mumble, with a waggle of those brows. Lips planted against your cheek. Tone dipping naughtily into flirt.

Kissed and kissed until the sugar made him feel sick. Now he knew what the term lovesick meant. His metal and thorn wrapped rocker heart you had cupped safely in your hands. He’d never have it any other way.

You yank your hand into the back of his wild hair. Hold him still as you devour his lips with yours. Taste the Marlboro smoke that lived at a permanent address on his tongue. Pipped with the sweet toffee from the apple you’d both pecked at earlier. He’d kissed and bitten his pieces of apple right out your offered mouth.

Tasty as fuck, he’d said. He hadn’t even meant the apple.

He moans and you feel it shoot and slice to your belly. Gut punch love. His moans- they are better than music.

He cups you and keeps you yanked firm against his front as he kisses you back. Sneaks his tongue into your mouth, and the way it brushes yours makes your knees whirl all useless.

Damn his tongue should be criminal to be that good-

You don’t care that crowds of people are cutting around where you’re making out with your boyfriend. It was a carnival. High schoolers were dating and kissing horny all over the damn place.

What was one more star studded couple with hearts lodged in their eyes?

You cross your arms around the back of his neck. He tips into you. Skims his big warm hands up the backs of your smooth thighs. Resists cupping your ass in public- he should really get a medal for that. C’mon-

When you pull back, he chases after your mouth. Greedy and always so. Not ready for it to be over yet. He’s never ready to stop kissing you.

“Kettle corn. A pink lemonade. And a corn dog. Final offer.” You smile at him. An effective bargaining chip you kept in your pocket. Plying him with food as persuasion.

The way into Eddie Munson’s heart was occasionally via a funky reroute to his stomach.

You’re shameless and it works.

“Sold.” He grins. Enjoying the hell out of the way your tits are crushed to his chest right now.

“…Then the Ferris Wheel, honey.” He smirks with a pure maniacal grin of evil. “You can break my fingers again. I’ll let you.”

“This is you getting your own back for the haunted maze isn’t it.” You wilfully decide. That stubborn jut of your chin. Unimpressed eyes scratching daggers at him.

“My hand hasn’t left yours for two years. Sweet cheeks. Not gonna start now.” He beams.

He loops an arm over your shoulder. Steers you towards the corn dog stand. You tangle your steps alongside his. Slide your arm across his trim waist. His leather arm cold around your shoulder.

“Then after the food and the Ferris wheel. I’m gonna take you back to the van. And do filthy filthy things to you, whilst the firework show bursts across the sky.” The way his lips brush the shell of your ear makes your thighs wobble and shoot with sensation.

“Filthy you say?” You ask with hot blood gathering up in your cheeks. Gold lights bloom in his dark eyes like round petals. Dazzling.

“Yep.” He pops the p.

“Gonna lick you real slow. Make you yelp. Then just gonna slide my tongue right in, far as I can, I’m not gonna be stopping until you melt. Right into my mouth.” He decides with a playful little kiss to your jaw.

Goddamn it this boy knows how to make your pussy throb and clench.

“Is this all part of your grand revenge plan?” You seek.

“No. Baby. Just a damn good way to spend a Friday night with my favourite chick.”

Your heart is all melty. Slipping down the insides of your butter soft ribs. You do so love this man with every single tiny atom of your being.

“I thought your guitar was your favourite chick?” You play.

He grins. Chucked all sweet. “Nah. You feed me. You win hands down babe.”

Tagging some Munson babes; @indouloureux @youaremyfamiliar @fujiihime @groupie-love-71 @stiegasaw @thelyingpierrot @munsonquinns @captain-tch @ramona-thorns @starbxcks @morganamoonstone

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drowndazaijustice4chuuya · 2 years

Text

Basically a rundown of the BSD manga rn:

Asagiri got sick and tired of us shipping Shin Soukoku, Soukoku and ranpoe, so he decided it was for some angst and eliminated them. In that order.

Fukuchi = MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE DISGRACE ON THIS EARTH FUCK YOU YOUR MOTHER IS SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FOR GIVING BIRTH TO YOU BITCH BITCHASS FUCK YOU

Hunting Dogs: The ONE part of the government that isn't useless. The Hunting Dogs is legit carrying the entire government on it's back istg

(Bonus surprise!: Feral jacket dude we ship with Gin or Chuuya is a traitor!)

(Another Bonus Surprise!: Mori turns out to be even more of an asshole + Yosano angst!)

(MORE BONUS SURPRISES: In exchange for the wrecking of your threw favourite ships, we have earned another mystery lover to join our ragtag duo of detectives!)

Save Sigma, Praise Nikolai; a three year old manchild and a Russian clown respectively.

Remember our emo who looks like he could be a vampire?

*introduces Bram Stoker*

NOW HE'S AN UNDEAD VAMPIRE

*Sskk fans sobbing in the distance*

Atsushi is contemplating life and why his-partner-who-is-totally-not-in-love-with-him-yet-kept-his-promise-of-no-killing-and-saved-his-ass-multiple-times sacrificed his life for him.

Hmmm. I wonder why.

Fukuzawa, our dilf, turns out to be an asshole magnet by being exes with BOTH Fuk*c** and M*ri.

Dazai gets arrested and proceeds to gossip and play imaginary chess with fuckbuddy Fyodussy in prison.

Russian Clown pulls a Chuuya and breaks his bf out of prison because he wants to kill him.

#saveSigma

Dazai steals Sigma, so Fyodor steals Chuuya.

Dazai is not happy.

Dazai drowns Fyodor.

BUT PLOT TWIST HE DROWNS CHUUYA TOO YAAAAAA

*Soukoku fans sobbing in the distance*

Next few chapters?

BACK TO ANYONE THAT IS NOT SOUKOKU

*BSD fans sobbing in the distance*

Ranpo gets injured, Fukuzawa prepares for a showdown with his ex bf, Sushi deals with the most badass member of Hunting Dogs.

Also, Kenji makes a new friend.

#bungou gay dogs #soukoku #skk #dazia osamu #atsushi nakajima #chuuya nakahara #edogawa ranpo #akutagawa ryuunosuke #ōchi fukuchi #dazai x chuuya #fyodor dostoevsky #manga is pain #asagiri being an asshole to his characters and their ships #wtf man #uncool #angst #gay #bungou stray dogs

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abellaheart-blog · 2 years

Text

Master List

Last Updated 02/11/23

My Master list is alphabetized. Parts 1-7 included. I will update it frequently with the recent date marked on the title.

Phantom Blood ❤️🗡

1. Johnathan Joestar x Reader

Johnathan Headcanons 🌬🗡💥

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Developing Crush on Powerful Hamon User who is friends with the Joestars

2. Robert E.O. Speedwagon x Reader

Speedwagon Headcanons 🎩

Developing Crush on Powerful Hamon User who is friends with the Joestars

Jobros who's easiest to seduce and why NSFW 🔞

Battle Tendency 🧣💥

Caesar Zeppeli x Reader

Caesar Headcanons

Developing Crush on Powerful Hamon User who is friends with the Joestars

Jobros who's easiest to seduce and why NSFW 🔞

Stardust Crusaders ⭐🌟

Noriyaki Kakyoin x Reader

Kakyoin Headcanons

Jobros who's easiest to seduce and why NSFW 🔞

Diamond Is Unbreakable 💎💜

1. Jotaro Kujo x Reader

Jotaro x Reader Scenarios

Caressing Each Others Bodies NSFW 🔞

2. Jousuke Higashikata x Reader

Jousuke Headcanons ☮️💛

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

3. Koichi Hirose x Reader

Koichi Headcanons 💚🔉

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

4. Okuyasu Nijimura x Reader

"You Want To Date Me?"(Okuyasu Nijimura x Reader)

Fluff, confession, Reader is raising Okuyasu’s confidence, takes place during part 4

Okuyasu Headcanons 💙💲Billion

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Jobros who's easiest to seduce and why NSFW 🔞

Vento Aureo/Golden Wind 🏹🐞

My OC Content

Oc Ask Prompts (Abella Rosa Content)

Trish Una x OC

Sweet Theme F/o Asks

Trish x Abella Selfship NSFW Meme Post

Trish x Abella Relationship Card Selfship Post

Trish x Abella Relationship Level Selfship Post

"Mermaid In Love" (Trish Una x Mermaid Abella Rosa)

Trish Una x Oc Post: Offering Abella A Rose 🌹

Fugo Pannacotta x OC

Sweet Themed F/o Asks

Valentines Ask Game 💝 Part 1

Valentines Ask Game 💝 Part 2

"A Dance?" (Abella x Fugo Songfic)

"For Me Tesoro?" (Abella x Fugo Minific)

First Date Scenario (Abella x Fugo Minific)

1. Bruno Bucciarati x Reader

Mummy Bruno x Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 2:) NSFW 🔞

AU, Bruno is mummy in modern world, rescues you and ends in night of passion

Moth Bruno x Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 6) NSFW 🔞

AU everyone in part 5 is a mothmen, you’re a normal human but slowly you two become accuanted, friends to lovers

Bruno Headcanons 🖤🤐

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Bucci gang reacting to darling wearing tailored clothing to match with them Part 3 Bruno Bucciarati

Bucci gang reacting to their darling wearing jewelry customized to their Stand/Clothing Part 1 Bruno Bucciarati

2. Fugo Panacotta x Reader

“I Promise To Always Be There For You” (Fugo x Reader)

AU, everyone lives no one dies, takes place after the events of part 5. Warning: violence, mentions of murder, serial killer, and Fugo’s backstory

Mad Scientist Fugo x Undead Bride Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day:) NSFW 🔞

Frankenstein AU, Reader inspired by Emily from Corpse Bride, Mad Scientist Fugo = slight yandere behavior, went mad from being alone too long, angst with fluff, reader helps Fugo and they fall in love

Clown Fugo x Witch Reader (Threesome, Clone Sex) (Kinktober 2021 Day 9) NSFW 🔞

Monster AU, porn with no plot, hate sex, Reader clones herself and has threesome w/ Fugo

Panacotta Fugo x Reader (Short Love Letter) 🍓📝💚 #1

“Unexpected Late Dinner” (Fugo Panacotta x Reader) NSFW 🔞

Aged up Fugo, Fiancé relationship, takes place after Purple Haze Feedback, Romance, Smut, Sexual Content

“Dream On” (Fugo x Reader)

Fugo x Reader Scenarios

Manga Fugo's Crush Complimenting Him

Fugo x Secretary Reader

[F/o Post] Surprising Him w/ Cute Strawberry Dress on Next Date

[F/o Post] Fugo Proposing Ring Box

Fugo Headcanons 🍓🍓🍓

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Bucci gang reacting to their darling wearing jewelry customized to their Stand/Clothing Part 1 Panacotta Fugo

Date Headcanons

3. Giorno Giovanna x Reader

Plant Monster Giorno x Demon Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 5: Double Penetration In Two Holes | Boot Worship | Lactation) NSFW 🔞

Monster AU, Dom Female Devil Demon Reader, Giorno Plant Monster inspired by poison ivy, Mates, Boyfriend and Girlfriend Relationship

Octoman Giorno x Mermaid Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 6: Rimming | Breeding | Tentacles) NSFW 🔞

Modern AU, Reader turned mermaid, Romance, Fluff and Smut

Demon Giorno x Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 11: Over Stimulation | Temperature Play | Stockings) NSFW 🔞

Fairytale AU, Angst with fluff and smut, romance, beauty and the beast inspired Warning: kidnapping, slight yandere Giorno

Giorno x Reader Scenarios

Getting Each Other Shoes 👠👞

Giorno Headcanons 🐞💜

Turned Cat Don Giorno Giovanna x Temporary Don! Wife Reader

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Bucci gang reacting to darling wearing tailored clothing to match with them Part 2 Giorno Giovanna

Bucci gang reacting to their darling wearing jewelry customized to their Stand/Clothing Part 3 Giorno Giovanna

Don Giorno Giovanna x Reader (Male & Female) NSFW🔞 Headcanons

4. Guido Mista x Reader

(I know I shouldn’t have made him #4 but I want this list alphabetized by their first names, sorry Mista!!)

Mista x Loch Ness Monster Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 4: Begging | Breathplay | Leather/Latex) NSFW 🔞

Mista Headcanons ❤️💙

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Bucci gang reacting to their darling wearing jewelry customized to their Stand/Clothing Part 2 Guido Mista

5. Leone Abbacchio x Reader

Abbacchio Headcanons ⏸⏭

More Abbacchio content under "Bucci gang x Reader"

Bucci gang reacting to their darling wearing jewelry customized to their Stand/Clothing Part 4 Leone Abbacchio

Getting Over Stimulated and Passing Out After Their Partner Riding Them NSFW 🔞

6. Narancia Ghirga x Reader

Narancia x Zombie Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 1: Monster | Knifeplay | Body Swap) NSFW 🔞

Angst with happy ending, fluff, eventual nsfw, takes place in part 5, Undead Reader Warning: mentions of death, corpse, violence

“Kissing Booth”💋 (Narancia Ghirga x Reader) NSFW 🔞

Summer Themed, Aged up characters, Everyone lives & no one dies AU, romance, Bucci gang in story, Adult Narancia Warning: Violence, eventual smut

Narancia Headcanons 💜🍊

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Bucci gang reacting to their darling wearing jewelry customized to their Stand/Clothing Part 2 Narancia Ghirga

Narancia x Self-Sacrificing Reader

8. Trish Una x Reader

Trish Una x Yandere Fairy Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 10: Female Reader, Yandere Content) NSFW 🔞

Angst with fluff, eventual smut Warning: Yandere themes, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping

Trish Una x Reader Scenarios ➗💛

[F/o Post] Wearing Matching Oufits and Surprising Her w/ Starbucks

Trish Una Headcanons

Bucci gang reacting to their darling wearing jewelry customized to their Stand/Clothing Part 4 Trish Una

Bucci gang reacting to darling wearing tailored clothing to match with them Part 1 Trish Una

Trish x Female S/o who Sews and Crochets

9. Bucci Gang x Reader 🐞🏹

Some content includes Trish Una since I consider her as part of the gang

Bucci gang Getting Overstimulated And Passing Out After Their Partner Riding Them (Abbacchio Excluded) NSFW 🔞

Team Bucciarati x Voodoo Doll Reader (Kinktober 2021 Day 8: Polyamorous, Orgy) NSFW 🔞

Bucci gang Most Perverted Secrets & Sluttiest Actions (+Trish Una) NSFW 🔞

Who's the Easiest to Seduce and Why NSFW 🔞

Ranking Who's the Best at Eating Pussy NSFW 🔞

Headcanons

Bucci gang as parents

Bucci gang walking in on there significant other changing (+Trish Una)

Bucci gang x Mischievous Turned Child Reader (Abbacchio & Trish Una Excluded)

Bucci gang letting their significant other do their nails (+Trish Una) 💅🏼

Bucci gang x Over Protective Crush! Reader (+Trish Una)

Bucci gang x Reader with Healing Kiss Stand and Similarities to Star Platinum (Trish Una Excluded)

Bucci gang x Crush! Reader who turns out to be surprisingly outgoing & carefree (Modern AU) (Trish Una Excluded)

Bucci gang Comforting Their S/o Through Past Trauma 💙

Bucci gang x Scary Significant Other (Trish Una Excluded)

Bucci gang x Significant Other Who Fangirls Over The Gang (+Trish Una)

Bucci gang x Significant Other Who Dresses in Both Sweet Lolita & Punk or Goth Styles (Trish Una Excluded)

What Lipstick they buy you 💄❤️

Bucci gang Receiving Cold Stone Icecream Cake From You For Valentine’s (+Trish Una) 🍰❤️

Get A Valentines Date: Team Bucciarati Edition! (+Trish Una) 💝 Quotev Results

La Squadra x Reader

Headcanons

Who’s the easiest to seduce and why NSFW 🔞

Eating dessert w/ their s/o

Walking in on their s/o changing (NSFW Themes)

1. Risotto Nero x Reader

Risotto Headcanons 🖤🤍🖤

Risotto Nero w/ an Affectionate Significant Other

Risotto x Short but Sweet & Violent Significant Other

Stone Ocean 🦋💙💚

1. Ermes Costello x Reader

Ermes Headcanons 💋

Catch their BF jerking off NSFW 🔞

Jobros who's easiest to seduce and why NSFW 🔞

2. Foo Fighters x Reader

Foo Fighters Headcanons 💧💦

Catch their BF jerking off NSFW 🔞

3. Jolyne Kujo x Reader

Jolyne x Reader Scenarios

Witch Jolyne x Shy Boyfriend NSFW 🔞

Jolyne Headcanons 🦋

Catch their BF jerking off NSFW 🔞

4. Weather Report x Reader

Weather Headcanons 🌧⛈

Boyfriend fluff (100 Follower Special)

Steel Ball Run

Gyro Zeppeli x Reader

Gyro Zeppeli Headcanons

Jobros who's easiest to seduce and why NSFW 🔞

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grapecaseschoices · 29 days

Note

Tav questions for Kendis, Kae, Amryl, and Isyl please :)

what are their thoughts on clowns?

if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?

11. what are their thoughts on clowns?

I feel Kendis balances between finding clowns annoying but amusing despite themselves.

Kae says there are no clowns bigger than Orin and Bhaal so. They're like family. JKJK. They don't really get the point of the make up for what clowns do. I think they're clown neutral, with a touch of clown suspicious. But Wyll loves clowns, so that ups her tolerance of them.

Amryl thinks clowns should do more in gaining Lathander's [the hater] disdain than the undead. I think generally Amryl cares very little for what humanity finds entertaining. In their opinion, clowns are annoying and are appropriate for people on the more childish scale of tthings [wait til it finds out Wyll loves clowns]. I think it volleys between Minthara and Halsin's feelings: 'it would be to everyone's benefit if tthat thing was gone' vs 'Bahamut help me'. Haughty disinterest and bewilderment.

Isyl probably likes clowns despite themselves. I think in general find them too loud but that's what makes them a good distraction [for others when the group is causing hijinks. Amryl grudgingly agrees.]

if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

9. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

I answered this for everyone except Isyl here. At this point in time, I would say Lae'zel. I think Isyl finds Lae'zel childish and immature. And Lae'zel probably thinks Isyl is soft, definitely thinks them insubordinate lmao.

ima come back on the third question for you. i need to ponder. this is such a good question.

#ask: bg3 #character insight #meet my tavs #ask: kendis crawford louel #bg3: kendis wolfcrossing #ask: kaeliana #ask: amryl shadowhoard #ask: isyl shadowhoard #plasticdodecagon #grapecase answers #grapes chars #thanks b <3

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Note

Finally it’s here!

Meet Magnus, the shady yandere maecenas and Patches good friend

He is raven aarakocra, who works as a monster doctor in The Clergy Eye

He was born in well-known family of doctors, consisting of a monster mother, a human father, and three monster sisters. Being the youngest and most gifted child in the family, he was once the pride of his family was considered a worthy successor to his mother.

But after his father passed away, he began to think about the meaning of life and death, which led him to the path of studying magic, black in particular. After the years of researches, he decided to put knowledge into practice in the morgue of family's hospital. Unfortunately, he was interrupted during the ritual, which forever affected his appearance and reputation. He was expelled from his family and stripped of his medical license, so that wherever he went, he was only known as a disgrace to a noble name.

Therefore, he spent some time in underground hospitals, doing illegal and unethical operations, practicing his dark knowledge. After a while he met Patches and they became close friend out of common interests, which lead Magnus to The Clergy, the place where he can settle down and practice his craft with impunity

Fun facts

He is a obsessive yandere. Because of his noble origin, pride won’t let his confess to you, but he will always watch you from afar

Since he’s a half human, he is more attracted to humans, like Bregory

He treats Patches like little brother, despite Patches being much older and powerful that him

He’s pansexual

An apple a day keeps the doctor away. He’s actually a big fan of apples, especially apple cider. Also can get drunk on fermented apples

Despite liking humans and being half one, he won’t mind human dishes

Big fan of cultures and art. He’s perfect date is taking you to theater or fancy restaurant

He ain’t actually work in The Clergy, he only rent a place

He is the least dangerous monster out there. If he get to like you, he may let you hide from the staff

Krulu put him to watch over Vinnel, in case jester’s condition became worse

Besides Patches, nobody in The Clergy respect Magnus or take him seriously

Godd, it’s really take me long to create him. Hope u like it

[YOOO!! See, I said you'd get it done! Awesome stuff, he's pretty cute. <:3]

One has to wonder how he met Patches, and for how long! Granted, you did say Patches is much older compared to him, so I guess The Clergy is already well established by the time they encounter each other? I like to think Magnus saw him completely fuck up some sort of undead experiment. It's also hilarious that he treats Patches like a little brother, I suppose he exudes that hopeless sort of energy.

I feel sorry for Magnus having to deal with Vinnel, because the jester is mean to newbies, and he doesn't trust Magnus enough to let him have that much information about his condition, it's an extremely touchy subject. Vinnel can and will hurt Magnus if he's poked too much. Bird boy over here will have to prove himself to the clown.

I love the fact that he's bullied. And it makes sense, he's not staying there permanently, so he's not part of the core team, he's a fence sitter. And the one who's likely to take it the worst is Belo, who demands everyone always fully devote themselves to his lord. To him, Magnus is being disrespectful (even if Krulu agrees to keeping a distance).

Nebul might want to get to know him better, and Gallon as well- Having cultured coworkers of sorts is something they both crave.

Anyhow, good job! I love the doofus.

#dinadivine #Patches oc #Vinnel oc #Belo oc #Nebul oc

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oletus-manors-log · 9 months

Text

Rules Of The Abode:

As I run this place, I have rules that must be followed. Failure to observe such regulations will be dealt with, and if broken enough times, you will be blocked.

I reserve the right to accept or deny a request.

This is more specifically to characters that I feel uncomfortable doing in romantic scenes, OR at all/in general. Most of it is just preference, but some of them have some personal shit that made me not want to delve to them, or it's because I genuinely can't do them justice (and believe me, I really can't.)

The following characters that I will not do under ANY circumstances are:

Kreacher Pierson [ Thief ]

Freddy Riley [ Lawyer ]

Bane Perez [ Gamekeeper ]

Burke Lapadura [ Mad Eyes ]

Polun [ Breaking Wheel ]

Percy [ Undead ]

Joker [ Smiley Face & Weeping Clown ]

The following characters I will do BUT only in platonic/familial sense, NOT romantic or NSFW are:

Ada Mesmer [ "Psychologist" ]

Emil [ Patient ]

Memory [ Little Girl ]

Galatea [ Sculptor ]

Robbie White [ Axe Boy ]

Lily Barriere [ Cheerleader ] (temporary only until we know her age)

This list will be updated as time goes on and more characters are revealed, so if you're curious to know who isn't available, check in here often.

Please be specific on your request.

Before sending me a letter (ask) for a survivor/hunter, please be specific on what your request entails. Will it be a headcannons list for the characters? Would you want it to be more about a short story on a specific scenario? Or a drabble?

Alongside that, I do a variety of genres for specific characters. I can do:

Fluff/Romance

Platonic

Angst

Crack (sometimes, if the mood calls for it)/Shitpost

It will take a while until I open up to things like NSFW, so in the meantime, feel free to request these genres. Do keep in mind that I will answer requests slowly depending on what you ask.

Patience is key, and remember the human behind the screen

Writing takes time, and as much as I hate to have people wait, it will take a while (days to weeks) for me to get to your request. I also don't take this blog above my own life as I have other commitments that require my attention.

As a disclaimer, I do answer requests that I'm able to depending if I have the time to fulfill them. However, if you pester me to rush through your request, there will be a chance for me to reject your request. After all, I am only human, and I'd rather not put my focus on this blog than anything else.

If you promise to abide by the rules, feel free to send a letter (ask) for a chat or a request. Have a lovely day, everyone.

#✎ . . . 「 𝙀𝙔𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙍 」 ➠ ❝ observer speaks ❞#✎ . . . 「 𝙁𝙊𝙍𝘽𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙉 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆 」 ➠ ❝ do not reblog ❞

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ringleaderising · 3 months

Note

Why a plague lair instead of shadow?

Whats your favorite dragon?

show me a dragon you've been obsessed with lately please

Why Plague?

So fun fact about that: It's because I've never once left Plague. in my near-decade tenure on flight rising, I've been a Plague flight member the entire time- I still have my one free flight change. I've considered taking a brief trip to Shadow- in fact I'm debating going for Trickmurk this year so I can transfer back to Plague in time for the Riot of Rot!- But given the proximity of Plague to Shadow (a good chunk of the territories share a border) I've simply leaned into the idea of a good handful of my lore offshoots being within that area that grazes each other.

I've got a number of offshoots that exist in areas that aren't Shadow or Plague either! Hope Adder Enterprises and The Ever Constantine Mall are both located closer to Lightning flight, and The Wicked Dig's storyline is set within Earth! So the short answer is that I'm in Plague because I've always been there and love the red eyes, and when I overhauled my lore, I decided I didn't need to restrict myself to one area of Sornieth, because I've never restricted myself to onsite lore anyway.

Favorite Dragon?

If you have followed me for longer than... 20 minutes you probably already have a guess for the answer to this, I'm never shy about talking about how my favorite dragon is the Pig.

My 'favorite' title is kinda... ephemeral? and tends to go to whichever dragon I like best at any given moment, but The Pig has held the title for quite some time since I got him! He's based on an OC of mine- an undead clown from a circus formed from captive souls. Pig took his name from being called "Piggy" for years by his 'friends' because of his size and interest in food- after a hazing incident left him dead within the walls of the cirque, he returned as The Pig- charming others into giving their loyalty to the mysterious circus grounds.

As a dragon, his story's not too different, though he was always a clown, a friendly entertainer of children until he attacked the parent of a hatchling to stop them from hurting them over little more than being given a treat by Pig himself without their permission. His circus' placement in the Gaplands at the time led to the appearance of Magda, also known as "Eyeless Mag-" The Lady of the Cairnstones- And Pig's charge. Something in her appearance caused him to crack, though, and while she was as forthcoming as she could have been, about the fact that she cannot remain on the mortal coil unless she is given work to fulfil, Pig's shattered mental state took this not as an explanation for why he should accept that she was already a 'failed' charge- but instructions for ensuring his contact with her.

He bears the title of "Cleaversworn" now, and kills in the name of the Eyeless One- but his targets are typically only those deserving of retribution- a bully of bullies, Pig continues to be generally kind to children and adolescents- only frightening them onto the straight and narrow without bearing any harm to them. The same cannot be said for those who should know better.

Current Horse in the Plinko Machine?

IT'S BASTIAN. YOU MUST BE SO INTERESTED TO HEAR ME TALK ABOUT BAST FOR A LONG LONG TIME!

Agent Whipwire, though most folks call him Bastian or Bast, is Hope Adder Enterprise's premiere... hunting dog, essentially. An agent infected with the Analog Virus, his ability to track the INTRUDER and other members of The Host has made him indispensable- and impossible to discharge from his employ.

His illness is somewhat coped with, at present, and a seemingly mild case, all things considered- his voice sounds not unlike he's recorded on an old VHS tape that's been through several years of wear and tear, and in the presence of a member of the Host or an opening into the Gaps, his body destabilizes, warped scan-lines and static streaking through him and making him semi-incorporeal- that's not to say he hasn't had his share of issues with it- his prosthetics specifically are an indicator he's not completely immune to the fallout of his infection- certain parts just don't stop flickering, sometimes- which is a pain, when it's a foot you need to stand and hunt.

He's a presence in most of the stories tied to the Gaplands, as through use of the T.I.M.E. device he isn't tied to one point in the timeline, capable of tracking his quarry at the most opportune points of their appearance- instead of having to abide the forward motion.

He's also originally just a shameless fan dragon for the band Bad Omens- his name "bastian" is a reference to the frontman and his coloration was intentional to match THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND's promotional material. Because of this his voice sounds like this- just run through a VHS filter- i cannot have a fandragon without making it lore-involved, I fear.

#Flight Rising Lore #pig;#The Sideshow;#tw violence #tw bullying #tw parental abuse #long post

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madness-in-the-flesh · 2 years

Note

Hear you like dark themes huh? Let me rub my hands together mischievously rq as I hand you this. Go as crazy as you want man. Also the Deimos and Gil prompts were peak perfection!

Reader knew Hoffnar for a long time, but was unbeknownst of his hidden obsession over them. But after taking a wellness check on him after the fall of Navada, they learn the hard way of what he's become. Hoffnar Tricky will no longer hide who he is. He only wants one thing right now and one thing only. Now Reader is running for their life through the lost city being chased by something undead, practically eldritch. It's all downhill the moment they took a wrong turn and find nowhere left to run.

Regardless of what you write I can't wait to see more of what you do!

Okay first off thank you !!!!!!! Hoping you enjoy my stuff in future as much as I love making it !!!!! +D and second, I am taking this request. Shoving it in between two slices of bread and eating it. Delicious. Thank you. Also if you mean by taking a wrong turn, You breaking your legs and being unable to escape. yes. wrong turn. Also, maybe got a LITTTLLLLE carried away and this is around 3195 words but shhh it's fine. I also apologize if this wasn't the stuff you wanted? I don't know I just kinda blanked and kept getting ideas. then deleting a part. then coming up with more ideas and re-writing, So eh, Not as happy with this as the other ones but regardless I hope you enjoy ! +)

Categorizing this under fics rather than a drabble. Or maybe all my drabbles class themselves as fics since I feel they're longer than what others consider drabbles? Idk if anyone has advice that would be appreciated <3 !!!!

Tricky - Run Rabbit Run

GENRE - Romantic

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Physical Violence, Gun Violence, Wounds, broken bones, Murder / implied Murder, Mention of controlling behaviour, Descriptions of gore, Heights / falling ( more so falling in this case ) - If you believe I've missed anything please let me know so I can add it

You wandered through the ruins of the once prospering city under the rule of Director Phobos. This place held both fond and lukewarm memories, mixing into a deep sense of nostalgia but that’s not the feeling you came for. No, you had your sights set on something a lot more important.

Ever since the place had fallen to ruin, You’d been hiding out, searching from place to place without contact with any of your old colleagues until setting up your own little home away from everything. You just wanted to live a normal life, which you did. Well, as normal as you could in a place like Nevada. With the occasional Zed’s appearing and some agents here and there: You mostly stuck to yourself from growing your own food ( which was miraculous within itself ) and your limited self defence training, You were set.

It never stopped the empty feeling of misery. You even began to doubt that the quote “ misery loves company ” held up. After all, Could your life be so Gloomy while your social life was so barren? So much so you’d begin talking to yourself as well as the photos that lined your wall. Mostly of your three colleagues. Dr Crackpot: Intense and confident, You couldn’t recall a dull moment with him but you also found it hard to keep up. Especially with his rivalry with Dr. Jebediah Christoff. Another man you grew close with while working with under the Nexus Core. He was but neither of those two were the closest.

Dr Hofnarr. At first, He was timid and the two of you didn’t interact too much. You both stuck to yourselves until you both decided to have lunch with Christoff but according to him, You two would get along and oh boy, did you. After finding a similar interest in clowns: it was almost all the two of you would discuss. From Bozo the Hysterical and Slapstick Stanley: you’d take about anything slightly resulting among the jester-y. However, as things went on you discovered more about each other and the things you enjoyed outside of clowns. Soon enough you’d say the two of you were best friends: Something that you least expected from a job the ones put out by the Nexus Core. You never agreed with the inhumane and horrid things that happened but kept up with it because in the end, it was you or them. Yet when you got a mysterious note from someone during office hours, a day before the city’s destruction telling you to run and never look back. You knew exactly who had sent it from the handwriting and why you needed to leave the city almost immediately and without question. You had put that much trust in Hofnarr.

Sure… he’d act weird sometimes towards you but you had always coughed it up to him either not fully grasping the appropriate social response. Then there was the time he had you transferred to work under him, a measly request but you just assumed he thought you were a good fit to help him with his job. That was all it could be, and it was nice working with a friend. Even if he could be semi-controlling to both you and others around you while working. Then according to Jeb, He never acted this way around other things, only with you. Each time though, you brushed it off, almost developing an equally horrible dependency on each other. But that’s all it was, a friendship ( to you, anyways ) that was nothing more than a mutual bond with no ill intent whatsoever.

Part of you regrets leaving all the same, Maybe you just assumed that you’d encounter each other again whether it be here or the next life. Perhaps even in the other place. Either way, You still longed to be with the people you once saw as your buddies… Especially Hofnarr. You missed having the socially awkward but easily excitable colleague, always anticipating your next conversation but you suppose the next one would never come. You longed to one day hopefully see the way he’d light up as the two of you would meet up for your break. Those were good times…

So much so you decided to throw away the advice he had given you and perform what would make most Nevadans grimace, especially when you had such a good thing going. Return to the city and perform a wellness check. Not that you knew the location of Hoffnar nor any of your old friends but it wouldn't hurt to try.

You had the chance to get those back though and you refused to pass it up. So much so you managed to access a forgotten database. Back in your time with the Nexus core, they had given all the “ important ” employees’ aka the scientists actually working on the distress signals Incase of an emergency which would be loaded onto a database to keep track, this was so that anyone went “ missing '' through their own means or taken hostage. Before leaving, You had removed it from yourself and left it in your office. You suppose it was another way for the director to be in control, Knowing where you were most of the time allowed for him to keep track and snuff out anyone he labelled suspicious. From what you’d read, a signal had been picked up in the city: A signal that you had assumed had been long lost. One that belonged to Hofnarr. The past week, Signals of Dr Hofnarr’s were sent out which read he was still in the. In different locations too which made you almost squirm with delight. Both Crackpot’s and Jeb’s hadn’t been sighted in years.

You had barely been able to get everything together to head to the city to find him. Maybe he knew where the others were? Just as long as you didn’t have to sit and think about the alienation you felt in your own home. It was around a 3 day trip to the city, With rest. You chose to mostly travel at night, In hopes of avoiding the masses that inhabited the Nevadan wasteland and the A.A.H.W. You did! For the most part, You had a run in with some bandits around the border but nothing you couldn’t handle! You were surprised on how the blood and guts didn’t phase you anymore. Maybe if it were your own...

The brains splattered on the ground and all you could think was: “ Wow! I can’t wait to tell Hofnarr about what I’ve been up too”. Maybe if you had kept up-to-date with everything going on around you, rather than becoming a hermit with limited news. You might have even thought twice about stepping back into the city but alas, absence makes the heart grow fonder. The same could be said about the both of you.

Checking the destination you’d marked on the map of the city, Colt 1911 secured in your hip. Your hands were shaky as hysteria ripped through you. Trying to keep yourself contained from all the excitement as you finally rounded the corner. Staring up at the eerily spray painted building. It’s like everything fell quiet when you did hear it

The distant yells from bandits were no longer audible. The ripping of flesh that as Zed’s bit into whatever poor sucker stumbled across them and backed up by the things aching pleas to live. Not even gunshots whirred through the air: Just eerie, well placed silence.

For the first time since you received that signal but not as long as you’d have liked to. Your pondering was cut short when the faint sound of a tune rang through the air. You perked up, looking around, cringing as it crept ever closer. You were in the middle of the street, no cover and hardly supposed you’d find some in the time whatever was making the melody would get here. All you had was the handgun on you. Pulling out the Colt 1911 and shoving the map back into your pocket. You awaited, staring off into the street’s opening.

But the thing never came around the corner. Alternatively, you were greeted by the presence of the music right by your ears and a hot breath on the back of your neck, causing you to dart around.

Your blood ran cold and heart rate quicken, a blanket of trepidation fell over you and did not let go. Bright red eyes stared out at you from the holes of the mask it wore, only inches from your face. Unmoving, and as redder than the Nevadan sky. You didn’t dare move but the grip on the gun grew more strained. Clammy palms clasping for anything to keep you anchored to the situations, You couldn't allow your mind to race in this sort of predicament.

The most haunting thing is those cardinal eyes screamed of familiarity but you swore you’d remember such a sight. His skin was rotting away at the bone, A sign the person in front of you was no longer alive. Nevertheless, he wasn’t attacking you like the traditional Zed would nor making any move to harm you. The thing seemed to be studying you as you did it. Glancing down at the sign in the things hand, bloody. You were also sure you’d spotted pieces of flesh and brain tissue. The most obnoxious thing was the boombox playing what seemed like such a simple fun tune. Just what the fuck was this shit playing at?

You decide you've seen enough, Moving to take a step back but today was just full of surprises. You jolted as an ear piercing. It sounded like someone was scratching a record, Yet it was forming words as easily as you could.

“ CLOWN KNOWS YOU !!! ” It beamed out, seemingly unphased by the fear written all over your face. You quickly decided you wouldn’t be dealing with it any longer, Pulling up the Cole 1911 and shooting it in the torse, almost emptying the ammo cartridge. Your hand was shaky, at least 3 of the 5 hitting: Which left 2 bullets in the chamber. The Red haired being was unphased and still standing, It didn’t even flinch as it was shot, rather, the clown just stared at you, holding your gaze until it looked down at its body. Pressing it’s hand in on the wounds, squirting the blood out of the laceration. Poking and prodding before looking back up at you. The thing began to go from twitching on occasion to convulsing violently with what you could only presume was rage. It leaked from the Zed and into the atmosphere around the two of you, Anger and tension so you wasted no time getting the fuck out of there. AS you turned and zipped around the corner. The music stopped with a thud and another blaring screech.

You wasted no time, pulling the map you’d once shoved into your pocket and running through the empty streets. Even now the only thing you could hear was your footsteps and own breath, heaving as your feet pounded against the pavement. Not daring to look behind you. It’s like all life in the area had gotten the fuck out of there once they realized. You couldn't keep up with your own thoughts since apparently this clown could outrun them too, pulling up your side as the clown’s legs outran your own: Long and almost cartoonishly stretching along the pavement beside you. You didn’t waste time attempting to once more shoot the clown, but both shots missed as the whiplash caused by the gun as it fired caused your aim to fly back too. Without much thought, You smacked the thing square in the head, bashing it’s head and causing it to trip. You huffed as it stared back at you, still running and taking the left as planned. Spinning around the corner and gazing at the apartment building to your right.

You didn’t stop as you turned down the alleyway and rushing up the steps leading to each apartment's patio and then to the roof. You pulled yourself up each one and looked down for a moment to see where the clown was, hoping to have lost the thing by running up the building. Instead, you caught sight of a sign tearing through the ground: The same sign that the clown had been holding. It seemed to pop it’s head out and stare at you from below. You flinched as the clown pointed at you, beginning to screech once again.

“ haha fuck you ” you said to no one in particular but with no haste as you continued upwards and onto the roof of the building. That’s… what sort of thing is able to do that? Nothing you’d known of. Grabbing to take another look towards the map then up, Making the route in your head.

If you jumped a couple buildings over, You’d be able to possibly be able to climb down another’s fire exit and make it to the sewer. Seeing it as a lot safer than travelling on the surface with whatever this thing happened to be on your tale. Sure, You wouldn’t have a clue where you were going but via working of the map: You’d probably be able to decipher where you would roughly be. You didn’t get your degree for nothing, after all.

You couldn’t contemplate the plan for much longer though, as you watched the shadow appear over your head and crawl across your sight from behind: You shoved the map back into your side bag and whipped your head around to see the thing around 6 ft off the ground and above you. You broke into a jog, cursing loudly as you felt yourself stumble as you got to the first ledge. It wasn’t a far jump but falling would definitely result in a nasty injury. One you didn't need right now. You leaped, For a second, You felt yourself falling, arms flying up . No ground keeping you in place, almost floating. But gravity pulled you back down, accompanied by the loud thud.

Stumbling once more, you continued to run across the next rooftop, being careful not to . You made sure not to look behind you: On the verge of a breakdown at how stressed your mind was with all the clown had made, defying every physics was gnawing your brain into possible mush but you had to push forward, You could think about the fact of a flying murder clown later, now all that mattered was how far you could jump between buildings. Skidding onto the side of a ledge and turning, You ran up the side and sprung once more. You continued for another two buildings before there was any comeuppance. You jumped, however upon misjudging just how much air you would have needed to jump, it caused you to land and fall against the building.

You quickly scuffled and gripped onto the building's edge. Clawing at the cornice as you panicked. You held on as tightly as you could, looking around for anything that could help. Only to be greeted by the thing that had been chasing you, Jolting out of shock. It was now above you glancing at your fingers only to look back at you. The colour drained from your face as you knew exactly what this fucker was planning

“ Don’t you FUCKING dare! ” You felt yourself yell at it, Only for it to tilt it’s head innocently. Like a child who’d been plotting a mischievous deed for the day, except this wasn’t innocent in the slightest. The feeling of the clown putting it’s hands on yours, The feeling of it’s skin was cold, deprived from all signs of life but from this angle: You could catch how it looked from under the mask.

From the gore, you could tell it was missing the skin from it’s mouth, Cheeks and lips torn clean off but the teeth weren’t damaged at all. When alive, they were clearly kept in good condition. Something glossy caught your eye before you could fully let the creature help remove all your fingers from the ledge. You froze up, staring in absolute horror as you soon came to realise just who the man before you is… or was… You didn’t think there was a semblance left of him now. Could there be when he’d most likely been alone for so long? Well there was one, unbeknownst you were that one piece. There person with his twisted mind never failed to forget. A root to a problem

“ Hofnarr… buddy? ” You spoke, choosing your words carefully but it was too late. The thing had picked off all your fingers and you began to fall. It felt just like how it had been a split second except now the ground wouldn’t catch you for 1 second more. You couldn’t find the words to scream out of fear. The man you’d missed for what felt like decades, was right in front of you and you didn’t even pick up on it until you were literally dangling of the edge of a fucking building. Staring up at Hofnarr as you felt yourself tearing through the air. Even once you landed, a sickening crack in both your legs and your head slamming back into something hard. The ground wasn’t as fucked as you thought it would be.

Finally finding your lungs as you screeched in pain as the ringing in your head began. You couldn't even think about looking down to where your legs were broken, bone out of place and piercing through the skin and beginning to bleed. The back of your head was already moist with your own plasma and it hurt to think. You shook as well as finding it hard to breathe, your brain partly fuzzy but filled with that pulsating ringing. You couldn’t focus on anything but the pain. Barely registering the fact that the remains of Hoffnar jumped down from the building and was slowly making his way over to you. Humming the tune that was playing earlier to himself. You whimpered and cried, unable to do anything else.

You suppose whatever grunt that had placed so many bin bags filled with rotting rubbish wouldn’t have guessed it would be saving a life, But part of you was glad. Another part of you wished that your brains had been splattered against the concrete. Still, you suppose that maybe he wouldn’t have let you fall if he didn’t know about it. Or would he?

You couldn’t tell but you could hear the soft giggles of your used-to-be friend, Cuddling next to you in the bin pile, snuggling into you. Almost purring into your neck. You didn’t have the strength to fight him off, Just laying and trying to process the pain as well as the fact that the man now cradling you like a baby, was your old pal Hofnarr.

“ Mine… You are MINE!! ” The voice called out, Still scratchy and unbearable to the ears. It only caused the pain to get worse, whimpering as the clown continued to nuzzle and purr into your neck.

You were fucked.

#madness combat #yandere madness combat #madness combat x reader #yandere madness combat x reader #Tricky #dr hofnarr

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