#will never be over roy tying their dicks together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunwarmed-ash · 10 months

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Roy/Jamie fic idea: just Roy being secretly obsessed with Jamie’s nipples ever since he flashed them at Roy at the gala in S1. One day in S3 or beyond, Jamie’s being a little shit and Roy finally snaps, taking Jamie to bed and declaring that he’s gonna undo Jamie just by doing all manner of things to those nipples. Jamie couldn’t be happier.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! i love all the royjamie prompts I got, so I combined all three into one response!

Prompts:

Coach kink-Jamie calls Roy coach at practice to rial him up, a sequel to 4 AM

Jamie gets his nipples pierced. Roy goes insane

Nipple obsession/nipple worship

Hope you enjoy it!! I certainly had fun writing it!!

Insatiable Tartt

Ships: Roy x Jamie Fandom: Ted Lasso Rating: Explicit Tags: Nipple piercing, nipple worship, public sex kinda, bottom Jamie, Roy/Jamie's ever developing relationship, The Infamous Boot Room, hand jobs, fic under the cut and on ao3, Jamie has a praise kink, and a coach kink, PWP

‘Coach this,’ ‘Coach that,’ ‘Yes Coach,’ ‘please coach’

Coach. Coach. Coach.

In the almost 20 years Roy has been in sports he has never given the word a sexy, second thought. But then Jamie fucking Tartt, his previous business and romantic archrival-turned friends-with-benefits had to go and sob the damn title while he was posted up on Roy’s cock. Begged him, his coach, to make him cum, again and again. And now, after one night together, it’s had an almost instant, pavlovian response with his dick.

Goddamn you Jamie Fucking Tartt.

-A month later-

They've only hooked up two other times since the first time. The next time was in Amsterdam, after the little shit spent the entire evening teaching him how to ride a bike to honor his grandads memory and then took him to see a windmill because Roy had never seen one before, and then to add cherries to an already perfect night, Jamie leaned over and kissed him, taking his breath away with a simple press of lips that he hasn't felt since Keeley.

Jamie didn't kiss him for long, he actually misinterpreted Roy’s freezing as denial and started to retreat almost instantly. Roy was quick to remedy that. His hand was catching the back of Jamie’s head and pulling his lips right back down against Roy’s own, where they belonged.

Jamie and he then hauled ass back to the hostel the team was staying at and Roy fucked Jamie into the mattress. At least until Roy’s knee started acting up. But then Jamie took over, riding Roy hard into the bed for another good half hour.

The third time was after Roy’s ‘misguided though comical’ attempt at ‘teammate awareness’ with the whole dick tying thing. It wasn't all bad. Jamie had admitted that it actually turned him on. After he blamed Roy for the new pain kink he developed around his dick because of it.

That night, Roy had spent an hour tying Jamie up with the remaining red rope, binding his legs and arms away from his front so Roy had unlimited access to his body. He even tied up his cock, like a nice little present for Roy to admire and praise. Before slapping it hard with his hand while Jamie sobbed and pled for more.

“Like that, do you slut?”

“Yes Coach…” Jamie pants without a fuss.

After that last time, Roy thought he had finally gotten a one-up on the man. But evidently, he had underestimated the little shit, again. Because when Roy walked into the locker room after practice and the team was getting changed, his eyes caught a shining glint off something and someone he did not expect.

And he wasn't the only one who noticed.

“Oi boyo, when’d you get those?” Colin asked Jamie, referring to the matching piercing bars through the man’s nipples that were currently making Roy’s mouth fucking water.

Jamie smirked and tossed his shirt over his shoulder instead of putting it on, letting Colin get a nice long look.

“Long time ago mate,” Jamie shrugged. “16? 17 maybe?” Roy hates that that fact means he could have had those bars in his mouth already but Jamie specially chose not to disclose having them until today.

“Only wear em when I’m tryin’ get lucky, ya know.”

Roy looks at Jamie just in time to realize he was pointing that intention directly at him and his burning arousal and fear of public displays of affections has him shouting a familiar threat in the full locker room.

“TARTT, BOOT ROOM! NOW!”

“I didn’t even do nothing wrong this time!” Jamie whines the second the boot room door closes and Roy’s mouth is on his to silence the bitchy noise.

“Take off your shirt,” He says when he breaks apart and Jamie smiles, all the way up to his ears.

“Oh, oh, yeah, okay,” and then his shirt’s off and Roy’s hands replace it, running over every inch of skin he can reach before settling on what he really wanted to see. The silver and blue barbells through each of Jamie’s dusky brown nipples.

“It's a good thing these aren't new,” Roy says, and before Jamie can ask why, Roy’s mouth is latching over one, biting into the pec hard before soothing the bite with a suck and several pointed licks around Jamie’s nipple.

Jamie’s painful shout morphed into a pleased whine with the attention to the piercing with his tongue and Roy was happy this was making Jamie as crazy as its making Roy. He's admittadbily been obsessed with Jamie’s nipples since that little tart decided he was too good for a shirt at the charity auction.

“Roy, please,” Jamie whines, breaking Roy out of his thoughts and back to the current moment.

“No,” Roy growls against Jamie’s skin, and it makes Jamie’s cock twitch against their bodies. “Address me right if you want something,”

“Coach,” Jamie whimpers, quickly entering the matter phase of melted goo in Roy’s specially crafted hands.

“There's a good boy,” Roy praises, and Jamie melts even farther with a pitiful whine. “Shouldn’t surprise me you have these pierced. Actually a little cross you didn't tell me sooner.”

Jamie’s eyes open and bore into Roy’s. There’s too much there to attempt to process it all.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Suprise me? Why?”

Jamie flushed pink, now avoiding his eyes.

“Don't know... Thought maybe you'd like them. Do you?”

Roy raised his eyebrow before grabbing Jamie's hand and holding it against his own cock.

“Does this answer your question?”

Jamie hums and his eyes flutter and he nods.

“Fuck me?”

Roy shakes his head.

“Can’t here Sweetheart, as much as I want to. But I can keep this up, probably make you come apart without even touching your cock. Would you like that?”

Jamie’s whines don’t contain actual words. He just nods and reaches out for Roy, pulling him close so Roy can bite and lick across his chest any way he wants to.

Roy does. He loves the way the metal feels against his tongue, how much it makes Jamie gasp and squirm when he just barely scrapes his teeth across the hardened flesh. Loves how loud he cries when Roy bites him so hard it’ll leave marks tomorrow.

Jamie’s cries get pitchier when he sucks around Jamie’s nipple, licking the piercing balls on either side with his tongue, Jamie's hips thrust forward, bumping against Roy’s thigh and pulling another moan from the younger player's lips.

“Coach, please,” Jamie begs and Roy moves up from the hickied and bruised chest to Jamie’s lips, biting roughly into his lower lip.

Jamie whines and Roy chuckles, soothing his cries with another deep kiss.

“What do you want Jamie?”

“Make me cum, please, I’m close.”

“That all?”

“No,” Jamie huffed.

Roy’s playful tug on Jamie’s piercing with his teeth had the younger man humping against Roy’s thigh now.

“What else then?”

“Want you to fuck me, at home. You can tie me up again if you want.”

“You really liked that huh?”

“Your fault, you put the image in me head.”

“Something tells me you have the capacity to think devious thoughts up all on your own,” Roy laughed before slipping his hand down the front of Jamie’s track pants and gripping his hard cock tight.

Jamie’s retort died on his tongue and his hand shot out for Roy, pulling his head forward and mouth back onto his chest.

“Fuck, touch me, please,” Jamie pants and Roy goes to work. Jamie wasn’t kidding, he was getting close. Most of Roy’s hand was now slick with Jamie’s precum.

The younger seemed to really like when he bit hickies into his chest Roy continued his pointed assault, squeezing the head of Jamie’s cock the next time his pumping hand reached it.

“Fuck-” Jamie cries and it’s all over. His thighs tremble below Roy’s hand as his orgasm pulses through him. Roy’s hand gets slicker but he doesn't stop pumping. Not until Jamie’s pretty bite swollen lips beg him to.

Roy pulls his hand out of Jamie’s pants and uses his clean hand to pull the man forward, kissing him back down after an intense, public, orgasm.

Jamie hums under the kiss, slumping onto Roy’s chest and giving him all of Jamie’s body weight to support while he came back down to Earth.

“Are you still hard?” Jamie asks after a couple of minutes, and Roy chuckles at the ridiculous question.

“Course I am.”

“Still wanna tie me up? We can go, like right now. If you wanna.”

Roy chuckled before kissing Jamie again.

“Insatiable tart.”

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boasamishipper · 1 year

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I feel so sick to my stomach after what that finale did to Nate, I think the entire show might be ruined for me forever. I can forgive a lot, and have given a lot of benefit of the doubt. I cannot do it anymore. My god, that was awful.

you and me both, nonny. i know a lot of people enjoyed nate's arc this season but it just did not sit right with me. like. even taking out the fact that the season's pacing was fucked in general, and that we spent more time with nate at a taste of athens than at west ham, and that we didn't get to see nate quit (we barely got to see him being a coach at all!!), and that after quitting nate wasn't shown getting any offers from other premier league teams (i don't necessarily mind that he waited tables in the interim, it wasn't like he needed the money and i can understand him wanting a break, but for god's sake the man was a fucking amazing coach!! yes rupert hired him to fuck with rebecca but nate is genuinely amazing at his job!! why didn't we get to see teams falling over themselves to hire him!!), and that for some fucking reason the fact that he was the one who leaked ted's panic attacks was just. never mentioned again by anyone, the full character regression we got in the series finale was just insane. okay sure nate is dating jade and played the violin again and his dad said he was a genius and now he's more confident in himself, whatever. but you mean to tell me that nate expected to be brought back on as the assistant kitman when beard told him to come back to richmond?? that's what the team decided when they said they wanted nate back?? that nate was fine with this?? that nate didn't bring up the fact that he was the one who leaked ted's panic attacks in his apology to ted?? that nate didn't get to give the team a pep talk (or give any advice to ted and beard and roy) before they played the team that he spent the last several months coaching?? that we didn't get to see nate roast the greyhounds (but more kindly this time) in a callback to 1.07?? that in the flash forwards, it was roy - whose idea of coaching is tying the players' dicks together - who became the manager of afc richmond, and not the man whose strategy from all the way back in season one won the greyhounds the match against west ham and resulted in the team getting the closest they have ever come to winning the whole fucking thing??

in the words of roy kent: fucking hell.

#ted lasso #ted lasso critical #nate shelley #the fact that we (and nick himself) have had to bend over backwards to justify some of the writing choices made this season is Not Good!#literally the one thing i did not want them to do was send nate back to richmond #the bar was on the ground and they tunneled beneath it with a spoon #if y'all DID love nate's arc this season then all the more love to you. i just did not and Above are my reasons why #to sum: i thought nick did an excellent job with what he was given #but what he was given Was Not Good #like we spent more time with higgins and will at that fucking jazz club than we did with nate some episodes.#(john mulaney voice) fucking WHAT #thanks for asking!

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benicebefunny · 4 months

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Forgive me for dumping all of this into your askbox but I just watched all of ted lasso (kinda, i didnt finish the finale yet, why is it like 75 min long). What a mess. There were moments I genuinely liked and a lot that was just Not It. This show had too many occurrences where a black and/or brown person's name was gotten all the way wrong and/or mispronounced as a joke (Zoreaux is not that difficult to mispronounce and sounds different from Zoro and then for him to change his name bc of a white man??)

Sam's restaurant/twitter plotline fucking sucked and I don't understand why it was included in the first place. I don't understand why they made Jade so damn cruel to Nathan in the beginning, just a weird ass character all around tbh. If they wanted Nathan back on their team, he shouldve been made head coach rather than the damn assistant to Will, another white man. I did like Jamie's change over the seasons and hated how mean Roy was to him even after seeing how his dad treated him.

I know I'm not saying another new, but I know you had a lot to say while the show was still going and by the look for your tag for the show, we share similar grievances.

No forgiveness, only appreciation for these excellent opinions.

The show never passes by an opportunity to do wrong by black and brown characters . And when those opportunities fail to arise, the show goes to extraordinary lengths (uphill, both ways, in the freezing snow) to add moments for those characters to be underserved, misused, and abused.

It felt cruel!

The writers really thought we would enjoy watching the white characters inflict such a wide array of harms--on each other and the black and brown characters. I don't know how Roy tying dicks together or yelling at reporters is supposed to be charming, feel-good television.

I am aggrieved.

#ted lasso for ts etc

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danny-chase · 3 years

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Delirium - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Titans (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne & Dick Grayson, Roy Harper & Lian Harper, Lian Harper & Dick Grayson, Lian Harper & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper, Tim Drake & Roy Harper Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Lian Harper Additional Tags: Hopsitals, delirious, Anxiety, Panic, POV Tim Drake, Canon Divergence, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Tim Drake is Bad at Feelings, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson is Batman, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Damian Wayne is Robin, Lian never died, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Dick Grayson gets a forehead kiss, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Caring Batfamily (DCU), fluff at the end, Teen Titans as Family, Tim Drake emotional whump, Damian Wayne emotional whump, Lian Harper is a ray of stubborn sunshine on a cloudy day, gunshot wound, Head Wound, Coloring Books Series: Part 4 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Tim has to be the oldest for like five minutes and decides he doesn't like it (but does a good job anyways).

Full story under cut

“Alvin? Alvin… Draper?” A nurse called from across the room. Tim pulled his head out of his hands, careful not to jostle his fake moustache. “This way please.” She intoned, waving a hand towards a bustling hallway.

Damian nearly leapt out of the stiff plastic chair, and he slowly followed suit, trying to act causal. He doubted he was fooling anyone; his legs shook as he walked forward, and he was pretty sure he left a ring of butt sweat on his seat. Taking deep breaths to calm his fraying nerves, he concentrated on taking steady steps forward – he didn’t care much for Damian, but there was no way he’d let a child go through this sort of thing alone. Especially one who probably had never visited someone in the hospital (let alone been in one) before.

He’d gotten a panicked call from Barbara a few days ago. Gotham in ruins, streets in chaos… the usual. Bruce was gone. He couldn’t miraculously pull them out of these things anymore. The first Batman was dead, and this time… they could lose the second.

“Report.” Damian demanded, his harsh tone penetrating Tim’s thoughts. He was suddenly aware of the chaos of the hallway, of people jostling them as they rushed by, a cacophony of machines squealing and loud voices, and bright lights illuminating tacky flooring. He’d fallen a pace behind and quickened his step to stand firmly next to his… little brother.

As much he’d tried to deny it, at the end of the day, that’s what bound them. Fealty to a dead man, he’d once hoped they could be something more – but this family was ripping apart at the seams and Tim had to wonder what even kept them all here anymore.

Though – that wasn’t hard to figure out.

Dick was in trouble, and he came running. He’d been in trouble and Dick had come running. They were brothers in every sense of the word, without Bruce tying them together. His stomach clenched at the thought that it might all be lost to him forever, and he swallowed the bile burning at the top of his throat.

Dick had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world – when you talked to him, he listened, gave advice, and would drop anything to help. He quickly crawled his way into your life, cementing you as family. Things were never perfect, and they’d had their fights, but Dick always bent first, forgiveness freely given rather than earned. Tim had needed that. And from what little time they’d spent together, he knew Damian did too.

Panic. That was the only way to describe how he felt. He couldn’t be that for Damian – he couldn’t be Dick. He let out a shaky breath – Dick had to be fine – he couldn’t – not after Bruce – he couldn’t do this again – he was on the verge of shattering after finally picking up all the broken pieces of himself and –

“I said, report.” Damian squeaked. He jolted back into reality, steading his breath, and replaying the last few minutes, his mind trying to catch up.

The nurse seemed unamused, her nostrils flaring and brow tight as she glanced back. “Sorry, my brother’s a little uhh… stressed…?” He stammered, not wanting to offend Damian – or worse, start an argument in a crowded hallway. But he didn’t flinch at the comment, a testament to the seriousness of the situation they found themselves in.

Dick was shot in the back of the head, and Tim honestly had no idea if they’d gotten him medical attention in time. He could be comatose for the rest of his life, would never breathe on his own, never talk to them again, never walk, never think, never… god… he’d never talk to Dick again, and it was all his fault for being too late, too unprepared, too much of a failure to-

“The operation went well, we need to keep him for observation, but we’re hopeful he’ll make a full recovery in a month or two.” Tim blinked back tears as a weight lift off his shoulders, bringing a hand up, covering his eyes for just a second. He looked up to find Damian frozen; too stunned to move. He gently placed an arm around his shoulders, tugging him along so he wouldn’t be swept up in the tide. Surprisingly, that much was allowed today, the child’s thoughts were elsewhere, so Tim focused his thoughts on him.

Damian was only ten. And he’d almost lost Dick to a fate worse than death, after seeing him shot before his eyes, helpless to stop it. They didn’t have hospitals in the League, it was kill or be killed, and then there were the pits. Had he ever watched someone recover naturally?

“He’ll be okay.” Tim hissed, in a tone that only Damian could hear. Damian startled back into the present, glaring at him briefly, shaking off Tim’s hand, and storming after the nurse. He kept his expression carefully out of view.

They turned into a private hospital room, pulling the door shut behind her, and winked. “Timothy Drake-Wayne and Damian Wayne, I presume.”

He could feel the kid freeze beside him, his own heart threatening to escape his throat.

“Oh, sorry - don’t panic, I’m with STAR Labs, we’ve worked with Richard and his team for years.” Damian huffed in annoyance. “Your identities aren’t compromised; Oracle made the arrangements for our team to take over when he arrived.” She passed her clipboard to Tim. “The walls are soundproof, you can stay as long as you want, I trust you can get out on your own, and it’s not like I’m going to stop you if you decide to stay longer than I recommend.” She sighed. “Just, don’t distress the patient, he’ll be confused when he wakes up, it’s normal. Call if you need, our monitoring systems are top notch, we’ll be watching – but not listening of course.”

And with that, the nurse turned on her heel, exiting as fast as she’d arrived, leaving Tim opened mouthed next to a wide-eyed Damian.

He watched as the door slowly turned on its hinges, picking up speed until it slammed shut. Almost immediately it popped back open. “If he tries to get up, don’t let him escape.” She rolled her eyes. “You human patients are always the worst.” And with that, she was gone. A few awkward, silent moments passed.

“Are you coming, Drake?” Damian’s voice had lost its normal edge, as he determinedly stared at the windows. He couldn’t see Dick from where they stood, but he could make out the edge of the bed, a pure white sheet neatly tucked under the edge.

He shifted, hesitantly - he always hated this part. But regardless, he took the lead, striding forward, and allowing Damian the comfort of walking in someone’s shadow. Because even if he wouldn’t say it, there was no way the kid wanted to do this alone. He couldn’t replace Dick – was thankful he didn’t have to, but this – this was the least he could do.

Hospital beds have this way of making the people inside them seem smaller. Tim braced himself as he stepped into view, and well, it could be worse. Dick was out cold, drooling on his pillow still hooked up to a few monitors, which steadily droned and beeped in the background. A lump of gauze and bandages swathed the base of his skull.

Damian flitted past his side to sit in the chair next to the bed, and Tim sprang into action, taking the chair next to the window. He flipped through the charts without really reading anything, and the two sat in stony silence. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts before shoving it back in his pocket.

He spared a glance at Damian - he was curled up in the chair, grimacing and staring at the wall. He didn’t dare try saying anything more, lest they start fighting in Dick’s hospital room. He contented himself with staring out the window, watching the dawn break, violets and purples dancing across the sky. The sun rose with pinks and oranges blossoming soon after.

Things would be okay. They had to be okay. He slowed his breathing, focusing on the sky rather than the scent of disinfectant. The steady beep of machines slowly fading into the distance. Closing his eyes, he could pretend for a moment, that this was normal. He was in a hotel, maybe on a vacation, in some city that wasn’t destroyed every few months. There had to be a place like that still out there.

A little chickadee hopped around on the windowsill, fluttering back and forth, before flying off again. “Bye.” Tim snapped to attention, whirling around to find Dick squinting out the window. Damian sprung out of his chair. “Bruce?” He asked confusedly, frowning at Damian.

Panic flickered across the kid’s face, and he recoiled, stepping back. “No. I’m Damian, don’t be foolish.” His voice wobbled at the end, and Tim’s heart throbbed painfully at the way Damian stiffened, meticulously shutting off any signs of vulnerability.

“Remember what the nurse said, he’s going to be confused for a bit.” Tim reminded, striding over to sit at the edge of the bed. Dick went back to looking at the now closed window. “Dick, you with us?” He leaned into Dick’s line of sight, trying for a smile, and waited for a minute before leaning back. “I’m going to take that as a no.”

“-tt-” Damian stepped forwards again. “Don’t bother him, Drake.” He spat.

Tim didn’t really know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. Damian climbed back into his chair, tucking his legs up to sit crisscrossed, his back stiff and upright. Tim grabbed his chair, pulling it closer to the edge of the bed. He placed a hand over Dick’s, rubbing a finger over his knuckles, taking comfort in the fingers twitching slightly under his own.

Dick was alive. He would live. Would recover. He hadn’t lost his older brother.

“His name’s Tim.” Dick mumbled after a few minutes. Damian rolled his eyes. “Tim.” Dick repeated, his eyes glassy as they gazed through Damian’s forehead.

“Yeah?” Tim lightly tapped Dick’s hand. He didn’t move from his focus.

“Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim.” He continued repeating Tim’s name, staring up at the ceiling.

“Why is he doing that?” Damian demanded, jumping out of his chair. Dick obliviously repeated the word, seemingly unaffected. “Drake, she said the operation went <em>well</em>.”

“I dunno.” He sighed, Dick probably had no idea what was going on, nor would he remember this. “Look, he’s delirious, he’s going to be messed up for a bit. He got shot in the head.”

“I know that. I was there. But if the operation was successful, then why-”

The door opened, and they fell silent, footsteps approaching. Roy Harper poked around the corner; a phone pressed to his ear. “Okay, he doesn’t look too bad, all things considered. Hey, you, kid, you should actually answer your fu-fudging phone.”

“That’s a dollar for the swear jar.” A little girl, Lian, he presumed, materialized at his side. She carried a bag with her and zoomed over to Damian. “Daddy says you like to color, so I brought crayons.” She grabbed a pack from her bag and shoved them at him. Damian looked mildly disgusted but took them anyway. “Say thank you.” Lian demanded.

Damian opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Tim glanced at Roy, he winked, doing his best not to laugh as he finished talking with whoever was on the phone.

“Thank you.” Dick replied, patting Lian’s head. His eyes seemed to find hers before darting away to stare at the ceiling.

“Not you.” She groaned. “Him.” She pointed at Damian.

“Thank you.” He repeated. Lian cracked a smile, giggling.

“Don’t laugh, it isn’t funny – he’s delirious.” Damian replied harshly, eyes narrowing. Lian shrugged, turning, almost sizing him up. She was only maybe an inch shorter than him, if he had to venture a guess.

“Uncle Dick is always happier when you laugh.” She pointed out. “It’s contagious.” Sure enough, a wide looping grin had materialized on Dick’s face.

“But we’re in a hospital.” Damian looked outraged; his hands balled in little fists.

“Daddy says laughter is the best medicine.” She retorted, crossing her arms. Roy tossed his phone (it landed perfectly in the center of the little dresser next to the bed), and scooped up his daughter in a big hug, sweeping her off the ground.

“Look, kid.” He looked down at Damian. “I know this is scary and it sucks, but my kid’s got a point.” He kissed the top of her head, prompting more giggles. “She’s a smart cookie, and this isn’t exactly her first rodeo.” Damian’s ears flushed, his face unchanged, but his ears beet red.

“This is not my first rodeo, and if you were more competent, than-”

“If Dick was a dumb-, I mean, if he was more competent, we wouldn’t be here.” Roy pointed out, speaking over Damian. Lian smacked his face lightly.

“Daddy, that’s rude.” Roy rolled his eyes. Dick started speaking in a language Tim vaguely recognized, looking displeased at the argument.

“Sweetie, I’m trying to make a point.” He set her down, ruffling her hair. “Why don’t you get out the coloring book and let Damian pick out a page.” Damian opened his mouth to comment, but Roy cut him off. “Look, you should see how happy Dick is when Lian gives him coloring pages. I think he’s earned one from you.” Damian closed his mouth. His brain seemingly compiling the information. “What she said isn’t wrong, he’ll recover faster if he’s happier, Timbo, you’re a bat-nerd, back me up here.”

“Well according to a study done in-” Roy held up a hand.

“Point made, don’t put me to sleep.” Tim rolled his eyes, remembering why he used to avoid hanging out with (some of) Dick’s friends. For now, he joined Roy in staring down Damian, Lian gazing at him too, an unlikely team up in a battle of wills.

“Only if Drake makes one too.” Damian miraculously relented after a few minutes. Tim nodded, peace from Damian was worth doing some coloring. Dick would be incredibly happy – these pages would likely be framed; it would be worth it to see the smile on his face. It was worth it now to see Lian’s face light up, as she rushed to unpack her things.

“Oh, and I brought Uncle Dick a stuffy.” She pulled out a stuffed elephant and placed it in the crook of his elbow. “Say thank you.” Dick replied – still not speaking anything he could place, and Lian smiled, Dick smiled back.

“What’s he been saying?” Tim asked, looking to Roy, as Damian slid to the floor, selecting coloring pages with Lian. Roy sat on the side of the bed, carefully leaning Dick forward, to get a better look at the back of his head. He whistled, ignoring Tim for a moment.

“You really did it to yourself this time, jeez Dickie.” He muttered to himself before turning back. “He’s speaking Navajo, he was counting to ten earlier, and he told Lian thanks.” Roy rolled his eyes. “Would you believe his pronunciation is always better when he’s like this?”

“No, that seems on brand.” Tim mused. “Apparently my French gets exponentially better the less I’ve slept.” Roy shrugged, and turned back on Dick.

“Quit rubbing off on the kids, you don’t want them to turn into you, yah? Bunch a’ weirdo bat-nerds.” Dick was apparently, not listening, and was more into petting the plushy.

“Zitka.” He replied, showing it to Roy. Roy patted his shoulder.

“Yeah buddy, I know. Isn’t she cute?” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Dick’s forehead. Something seemed to click in Tim’s brain, as Dick garbled on, fascinated by the toy.

“How many times have you done this?” He asked, watching as Roy leaned back, taking the seat next to the bed. He shrugged.

“I stopped counting after Blood fried his brains, back when he ran around in a V-neck.” Tim cringed, that was before he even became Robin. “Don’t look like that, he didn’t die.” Not that time, or this time – but things had been too close for comfort more times than Tim wanted to think about. Roy’s fingers drummed against the armrest. “I don’t know, Garth tried out the elephant thing a while back. It keeps him happy.” He pulled a book out of Lian’s bag, starting to flip through the pages. “Take nap kid – you look deader than him. Lian and I got this covered.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, tucking his legs up with him. He watched as Dick happily turned the toy over and over in his hands, blearily blinking at the world. Damian was quiet where he sat on the floor, inspecting each of the colors. By the time he put his first stroke to paper, Tim was already fast asleep.

#bad things happen bingo #batfam #titans #dc comics #batfamily #batman #batman and robin #dick grayson #tim drake #my writing #roy harper #lian harper #damian wayne #red robin #canon divergence #tw hospitals #tw anxiety #tw gsw #wrote this one just for me lol self indulgent

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alecmagnuslwb · 3 years

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Say Your Name Softly

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“Jaybird what happened to ‘don’t call any attention to ourselves’?” Roy asks as he looks around the bar where Jason has absolutely just caused a scene.

“I’m improvising,” Jason says throwing a wad of bills onto the bar for the owner as an apology for the trouble he’s just caused. “And choose between Jaybird or your trachea, you can’t have both,” Jason adds on because he doesn’t need Roy giving him some stupid nickname.

Roy, naturally, doesn’t listen. Jaybird sticks and despite his reputation and vague threats Jason never actually does anything to put a stop to it. Jaybird becomes common vernacular for Roy.

First Jason’s pretty sure Roy does it just to annoy him, especially when he realizes Jason wasn’t really serious about the whole trachea thing, delighting in every sharp glare that has less and less heat behind it every time Jason shoots one back.

From there it just sort of evolves, Jason stops glaring every time Roy says it and it becomes an everyday friendly nickname that as much as Jason is loath to admit it out loud he likes.

He’s Jaybird and well that’s fine.

***

Roy takes a running jump from the ledge of the building reaching out for the grappling hook and landing with a grace that sometimes still surprises Jason.

He doesn’t stop moving as he rolls to a stand and takes off, arrows knocked and aiming at the goons cornering them.

“Cover me Jaybird!” he shouts as he goes, expertly dodging gunfire while hitting three of the goon’s square in the chest with stun arrows. Jason curses under his breath already in motion guns at the ready. Beside him Dick chuckles.

“Jaybird?” he laughs and questions simultaneously as he stands and does a complicated flip jumping into the fray. Jason ignores him taking out the kneecaps of several of the guys while Dick kicks and punches his way through a pack of them, the blue of his Nightwing costume moving like a blur. Off to the side he hears the familiar thwip of a bow and thud of knocked out bodies.

Between the three of them they deal with the lackies easily, to the surprise of no one Black Mask doesn’t even bother showing his ugly, bony face. Jason’s tying up the last of the goons when he hears the sirens in the distance, Montoya most likely leading the charge. Jason stands to his full height about to shout over to Roy that at least he needs to get going, he’s not exactly on the best of terms with the GCPD just yet even if he’s been cleaning up his act.

Roy however beats him to it, “Jaybird!” he shouts from the other side of the roof where he and Dick have been chatting. “We better motor!”

Jason turns and shoots a thumb out to the direction of the next roof over so they can make their escape quickly before the cops show up not needing to say a word for Roy to know what he’s meaning. Roy nods in return before turning back to Dick, the two do some complicated bro handshake that ends with a loud high five before Roy immediately takes off in a run shooting another grappling hook for he and Jason to slide across.

“See you soon,” Dick shouts at Jason as Roy already makes his slide over to the next building. “Jaybird,” he emphasizes with a big doofy looking smile that Jason hates. He does not have time for his big brother teasing him about going soft or something by letting Roy call him a nickname.

“Hopefully not too soon, Dickie,” he shouts flipping his brother a playful middle finger as he takes off in a run following close behind Roy.

***

Dick isn’t the first, or the last to comment on the little nickname as more and more people hear it. Kory always gives Jason this look, this soft understanding look that he doesn’t understand every time he lets the nickname slide. Alfred drops on comms one evening to invite him over for tea and calls him Master Jaybird and Jason can hear his teasing smile in the words. One by one his family and Roy’s friends all start to just make little notices of it, like it’s some big deal.

Which it isn’t. It’s not like the words become more and more a term of endearment than a nickname, like lately Roy hasn’t taken to saying it a lot softer than he ever had before and started accompanying it with these lingering soft little touches. It’s not like Jason hasn’t found himself feeling something a little deeper than friendship of late when Roy says it, like he doesn’t absolutely melt when those little touches brush his skin. It’s just a silly name, that’s it.

“You good, Jaybird?” Roy asks his hand reaching out to turn Jason’s unmasked face to look at the cut along his cheek, all things considered it’s a minor injury.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jason says not making any move to stop Roy’s hand from lingering. That is until he catches sight of a small pack of Titans out of the corner of his eye. He clears his throat and steps back a bit a small grateful smile that he knows only Roy will notice on his lips. Roy just nods his head resting a hand a little too lightly to be considered some sort of bro slap on his shoulder before he steps away over to the little group.

Donna starts walking their way brushing Roy’s arm in a friendly manner as she goes, Jason’s stomach does a weird fluttering thing at the action. He’s not jealous, there’s no reason to be jealous. He and Roy are friends. Donna and Roy are friends. It’s as unmeaning as the nickname is.

“Jaybird, huh?” Donna says with a tittering laugh as she passes. They’ve just thwarted an apocalypse; Superman is somewhere on the metropolitan battlefield and that’s what she chooses to focus on. Roy just shrugs winking at her as he goes a look of some understanding passing between them that Jason can’t quite read.

Jason turns around bending down to pick up his helmet where it had been rudely knocked off of his head during a fight. Donna’s boots come into his eyeline, the amazon standing firmly beside him. He stands to his full height mirroring her stance with her arms crossed and hip cocked. She watches over where Roy, Dick, Gar and a few others have gathered checking in with each other.

“You better treat him right, Todd,” she says turning the full force of her warrior stance on him. Jason squints at her, the sky has turned back from its bright red to the sparkling night it should be, it makes the little constellations and stars on her outfit shine even brighter and makes her somehow more intimidating.

“That’s all,” she says before he can scramble to say it’s not like that with a wide fake smile, she reaches out her hand and places it on Jason’s shoulder like Roy just had, but with a much firmer grip, a grip that means business. It takes every bit of his Batman training not to wince.

She smiles more genuinely after a moment and steps away her eyes trained upwards when she spots Diana fly above.

Jason just watches her go expression unmoving realizing that maybe everyone keeps pointing out the nickname for a reason.

***

Jason’s not totally certain how he ended up at an arrow family dinner, except for the fact that he’s weak in the face of a bright-eyed pouting Roy Harper. So when he’d asked Jason to come as a buffer in case things between him and Ollie got intense his big green eyes bright in the morning sun with a pout on his face as he gave Jason a giant mug of coffee just the way he likes it, well he didn’t have it in him to say no.

Roy had been dodging the invitations for nearly a year, but when Dinah showed up in person and asked him to come there was no way he could say no.

Plus they’ve been spending more and more time in the warehouse in Star City than the loft in Gotham these days anyway, so really it was more a matter of convenience than anything.

So here they all are surrounding a big green table, which Jason thinks is a little on the nose, and everything has been shockingly pleasant so far. Dinah had practically burst into happy tears when she saw Roy on their doorstep and she’d even welcomed Jason in with open arms.

It’s clear the other arrow kids love Roy he’s oldest of them and they all look up to him and it pains Jason to see how surprised Roy is by that fact all the time. He’s not a screw up in their eyes, he’s their hero who overcame a lot to still be sitting at this table today.

Connor and Cissie are fairly indifferent to Jason which is just fine by him, except for Emiko who keeps asking exceedingly inappropriate questions about Batman that Damian always refused to answer. Jason doesn’t have any qualms about answering them however and he’s certain he’ll be getting a stern call from Bruce in no time about it. Mia is even shockingly polite, which considering their history is the most shocking thing about the whole evening.

Even more shocking though is Oliver Queen himself who is nothing but cordial and corny the whole night through. He’s clearly trying to maintain an easy-going environment and watching his words carefully so that he doesn’t test any boundary or limit that will lead to even one tense moment between he and Roy.

He doesn’t like Jason, but he’s never liked Jason so the simple fact he’s made not one negative remark about Jason’s presence is just enough for him. Everything about this night is clearly a win in Roy’s book judging from the smile that’s rarely left his face all night.

Dinner is perfectly pleasant and even makes Jason a little nostalgic for his Robin days when he was still innocent and family dinners weren’t just the occasional tea with Alfred. They’re lingering after dinner clearly each just waiting to see who will be the first one to break and say they need to leave and go on patrol.

It’s a waiting game Jason’s seen and always been the first to break at every gathering of his own brood, the only reason he’s not tonight is for Roy’s sake. He’s not even really paying attention anymore just lingering over the Tupperware of insanely good chili that Oliver had pushed his way moments ago letting the family just be together.

“Hey, Jaybird,” Roy says startling Jason out of his staring contest with the chili. He looks up and meets Roy’s eyes followed by the amused little smiles of everyone else and Ollie’s wide eyed, confusion maybe? Definitely surprise. “You ready to go bust up that fight club?”

Jason raises an eyebrow. The fight club in question has been on their radar for some time now, they’re 99% certain they’re using meta’s against their will and have been planning a little coup of their own over the weeks. Roy has about one and half feet in the door as a high roller, playing the role of spoiled rich boy looking to blow money even better than Jason does.

The next time he shows up he’s certain it’ll be the clubs last night in operation, he didn’t think tonight would be that night.

“You sure?” Jason questions searching Roy’s eyes for confirmation that this isn’t because he missed something going sour. Roy’s eyes look clear and certain and Jason knows he hasn’t missed a thing, Roy just wants to get the job they started done. He nods grabbing the Tupperware and the rest of the arrow kids take that as their cue each signaling their own farewells. Ollie never stops watching the two of them however, he looks like his mind has been running a mile a minute as he leans against the counter.

He finally moves when they all makes their way out the door, Dinah hugging each of the kids and even Jason as they file out. Roy and Dinah chat for a few more minutes while Jason safely secures the chili to his bike.

Roy looks so light and carefree and it makes Jason smile against his will. They walk over to the bike together Dinah hugging Roy one more time before he turns to Ollie and they do a weird bro hug style farewell that’s only a little bit awkward.

Ollie grips his bicep when they pull back. “You sure you two won’t need any backup with whatever you’re messing around with tonight?” he asks eyes briefly flitting over to where Jason leans against his bike.

“Nah, we’ll be good, Jaybird’s got my back,” Roy says. Ollie gets this amused look on his face as Roy steps away and takes the spare helmet Jason offers him. Jason gets on the bike first ignoring whatever is going on with Oliver.

“Jaybird,” Oliver mumbles under his breath before shaking his head. “Well if you change your mind, Pretty Bird,” he says looking Jason directly in the eyes as he pulls her close and places a lingering kiss on her head. Jason can’t ignore the implication of that comparison the way he’s managed to ignore everyone else’s glances and little comments. “And I are just a call away,” Ollie finishes with a chuckle.

Roy gives him a smile and a salute as he puts on his helmet and slips onto the bike behind Jason sitting a little closer and holding Jason’s waist a little tighter than necessary. Jason throws down his helmet visor to avoid the way Oliver’s still looking at him all meaningful and vaguely threatening before speeding away.

***

Tearing down the fight club is a hell of a lot easier than Jason expected it to be. They gear up at home then they’re in and out and sending vans full of free meta’s to safe havens set up around the city by the Black Canary herself in under two hours.

They’re both a little banged up when they make it back to the warehouse, but it’s nothing a few band-aids and a little Neosporin can’t handle.

Roy starts discarding pieces of the fancy burgundy suit he was sporting as soon as they’re in the door, Jason follows suit pulling weapon after weapon from his person in what they lovingly refer to as the discard box by the door. It’s their go to spot for all the weapons that need a good cleaning or maybe a good recycling down in Roy’s workshop.

By the time Jason’s down to just his pants and an under-armor shirt Roy’s settled down at the kitchen island rifling through the first aid kit with one hand and holding his other to a spot on the back of his head.

Jason walks up behind him picking his hand up from the spot he’s covering carefully.

“Did someone slice you on the back of the head?” he asks grabbing the rubbing alcohol from Roy’s hand.

“Yup, not sure how, but yup,” Roy grimaces when Jason takes a cotton ball to the slice.

“Told you not to cut your hair,” Jason says as he keeps cleaning the wound out. Last month Roy had finally parted with his scraggly red locks for a new cut short on the sides and back and just a little longer on the top. It looks good on him, but sometimes Jason misses the tresses of hair that would always slip their way out of his hats and blow around in the wind when they stood on rooftops. The hair not even fazing Roy from making a perfect shot when they’d fly in front of his eyes.

Roy snorts. “You just miss braiding my hair.”

“Yeah during all our pillow fights and sleepovers,” Jason huffs as he finishes cleaning up the slice and moves to open the Neosporin. He can’t exactly bandage this up so he’ll just have to badger Roy to remember to keep it clean.

Roy sighs. “If only you’d accept all my invitations to those, Jaybird,” he says seriously and there’s implications not even an emotionally constipated Jason Todd can’t catch onto under those words.

“You’re always calling me that,” Jason says as he slowly finishes up on the wound.

“Jaybird?” Roy asks slowly turning around to face Jason when he gives him a tap on the shoulder signifying he’s done.

Jason nods swallowing the lump in his throat realizing this conversation is happening there’s no jumping around it anymore.

“Well aside from your attempts early on, it was pretty clear you didn’t mind it all that much,” Roy says leaning back against the island. He reaches out brushing the bit of hair that’s fallen into Jason’s eyes, it’s the part that’s shock white a stark contrast to the rest of his dark hair. “So, yeah I call you that all the time.”

“You know Oliver calls Dinah Pretty Bird all the time,” he says tracking the movement of Roy’s hand as it falls slowly down the length of Jason’s arm.

“That he does,” Roy hums as he reaches Jason’s hand and tangles their fingers together.

“And you call me Jaybird,” Jason says looking up from their joined hands to Roy’s eyes.

“That has been established.”

“You know some people might make implications based on those similarities,” Jason says holding Roy’s eyes.

“Yeah they sure might,” Roy says pushing himself off the island. They’re practically nose to nose, eyes locked. “Damn do I wish the right person would realize those implications already.”

Jason swallows again a small smile forming on his lips. He never thought this would happen, that he’d work up the courage and finally acknowledge this ever-growing thing between them. That it would lead to a moment like this.

“Well I think he’s catching on,” he says. Roy smiles bright and lifts his other hand to gently cup Jason neck.

“About fucking time,” he says before leaning in finally breaching the space between them and connecting their lips. It’s a slow, sweet glide with so much passion and over a years’ worth of tension all seeping through when their lips move and their tongues meet. Jason’s not sure how much time passes, but eventually breathing becomes a necessity.

Roy doesn’t let him go far, keeping his hand on Jason’s neck and their fingers intertwined. He tilts their heads together while they both catch their breath.

“Well that works, huh, Jaybird,” he says stroking his thumb up and down the side of Jason’s neck.

“It sure does, Roy Toy,” Jason says with a chuckle hating the nickname even as it leaves his lips. Roy’s head throws back in a deep laugh he can’t seem to restrain.

“No way, nuh uh,” he says still chuckling. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, I’ll have to take up your trachea idea if you try to make that a thing.”

Jason snorts. “I’ll keep workshopping then,” he says before leaning back in and kissing the bright smile off of Roy’s lips.

#my fic #jayroy #jason todd #roy harper #the implications of ollie calling dinah pretty bird and roy calling jason jaybird are A LOT okay

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dyke-remy · 3 years

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Live And Let Die, part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Description: Agent 008 and Agent 009, professional spies for the MI6 with liscense to kill. Partners in both work and love. After an agent goes missing the partners have to once more go out into the field. (It’s a James Bond AU)

You don’t need to know anything about James Bond to be able to read this fic, trust me

Words: 3516

It was 7 am when the alarm clock went off. It's loud blaring filled the room that had been peaceful a few seconds ago. Remus let out a grunt. Without opening his eyes he took out a knife from under his pillow and threw it at the clock. The noise disappeared.

"You can't keep doing that" Remy muttered, half yawning it out "Q is like running out of clocks"

"If he could make that morning star that also worked as a disco ball for my birthday he can make some new clocks" He replied.

The room (and the entire apartement) was of average size with just enough space for everything necessary. Which made sense, they didn't spend much time in there anyway. Soft morning light was shimmering in through the window.

The blanket had been wrinkled since Remy was laying over it with their head on the pillow. Remus had his arms wrapped around their waist. They were so close their hair twined together on the pillows. He leaned closer and gave his spouse a good morning kiss.

Their slow awakening was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. They glanced at one another as their expressions turned serious. Remus quietly got up and grabbed the gun laying on the nearest drawer. Butt naked as he was he sneaked over to the door and slowly opened it and at the same time held the gun out.

"Good morn- AAAHHHH!" Patton Moneypenny screamed when he saw the gun peeking out at him. He had on a dark blue knitted suit jacket with stylish bows instead of buttons. With it he had on wide blue matching suit pants.

Remus' posture relaxed when he saw who it was. He fully opened the door "Hiya Moneypenny. You should yell it's you next time or else your brain might paint the walls.....That would look kinda nice tho"

"You should take something on" Patton suggested with a cheerful smile while his cheeks went bright red.

"He should" Remy who had come up behind their husband agreed "One day someone will shoot your dick off"

"Naaaahhhh. They will be too surprised by seeing my massive cock to think about attacking me and then it'll be too late. Boom bang dead! It's a genius tactic!!"

Remy rolled their eyes. They sent Patton a warm smile before pulling him into a hug "Hiya PatPat! Wanna come in?"

"Yeah" As he looked around the room which he'd been in many times he continued with "M wants to meet you in 15 min"

M was the leader of the MI6, the organisation they all worked for. Patton had been his secretary for as long as anyone could remember. It would be weird to imagine M's office without Pat working tiredlesly on his desk right outside.

"15? Girl a lady needs time to get ready, what the fuck" Remy opened a drawer and pulled out the black suit pants, white shirt, black tie and black blazer that acted as their dress code.

"15? Oh! Too little time to spend with my Favorite person in the whole MI6!" Remus exclaimed. He still didn't have anything on.

He took Patton's hand and moved the other to lay on his waist. He spun him around in some sort of dance which made the shorter man giggle and blush harder. He tried not to look down at Remus'....

"Oh Mr. Moneypenny! Rotten apple of my eye! Every mission is spent missing you!" he continued to dramatically lament. He dipped Patton and playfully moved in for a kiss.

Patton let out a chuckle while leaning his head away. "I'm married"

"Ah yes! The greatest tragedy of my life!" Remus held his hand over his heart and all.

"Tragedy indeed" Remy commented before flicking their finger to the back of their husband's head. They dumped his clothes onto his head too "C'mon gal the sooner you get done the sooner you can go out and play fisticuffs with someone"

"Fantastic point dear!"

After gettin dressed Remus jumped up on the bed and pressed a specific spot on the painting on the wall. It turned around to reveal a collection of guns, knives and various other weapons hidden behind it. He patted his morning star and throwing stars goodmorning, fully knowing that M nor Q would allow him to bring them on a mission. Instead he took a gun and carefully cleaned it as if he was cleaning a marble vase.

"I hate these fucking suits. They're so boring. No style. No style at all!!" Remy groaned out while tying their husband's tie because he'd been a spy for 7 years now and he still couldn't tie a tie.

Patton nodded along in sympathy "Very gay of you to think that" The duke chuckled.

They fixed his shirt which had been buttoned wrong "I don't think about fashion because I am gay as fuck! I think about it 'cause I've tots been the most fantastic disguiser here for years and fashion is like integral to a good disguise!! Besides my mothers are fashion legends and I gotta represent y'know"

"I know"

He handed over a gun (Handler ppk) and a few different knives to his spouse who swiftly hid it in different places on their suit. He himself preffered a bit more heavy handed attilery even when it came to handguns.

The couple followed Moneypenny out of their apartement. They lived in a normal looking apartement complex, a little bit fancier than a normal one. They went into a cleaning scrub.

Patton grabbed a mop standing in the corner. He pulled off the top of the handle revealing a scanner underneath. He pressed his thumb against it. A panel of numbers appeared on the wall. He quickly pressed in a code which finally made the inner wall open up, revealing an elevator.

They stepped inside and chit chatted about the weather and what they'd done on the weekend as the elevator went down.

The elevator opened with a satisfying ding. They were many many levels underground now. Long grey hallways stretched forward. It could be a maze for someone new to the place. Patton walked in front of the other two, he knew it like his backpocket.

After 5 or so minutes of walking he stopped by his secretary desk and sat down. There were stacks of paper work on his desk and cute animal posters hanging on the wall beside him.

Remus leaned over the desk and moved a piece of Patton's hair behind his ear "One day I'll get you on a date my dear Moneypenny"

"Sure you will mr. Octopussy. For now I think you will have to stay satisfied with taking whatever mission M gives you"

Remy took Remus' hand and dragged him with them into M's office. He was able to blow a kiss to Patton on his way in. Pat simple chuckled and rolled his eyes. They both knew neither of them were serious.

The office was an old fashioned one with walls and furniture of dark wood. Purple satin clad the windows. Plants and terrariums littered the room and all kinds of snakes slittered about.

Though the biggest snake of them all sat in the chair behind the desk. M. Most people called him Deceit. He had a menacing smile, ebony skin and dark hair pulled back into a braid that reached his shoulder. On his shoulder laid one of his most dearest and most deadliest pets.

"Look who finally decided to join us" M greeted as they came in.

"Aww you missed us so much didn't you??" Remus replied while sitting down on one of the chairs in a way no normal person should "It's okay Deecy. We can invite you to our next movie night"

"Yeah" Remy sat down on the desk and leaned close to Deceit "We're gonna watch Saw 4 and legally blond"

"I can think of much better ways to waste my time thank you. So onto ghe case. It's about-"

M stopped talking because the agents were obviously too busy flirting with each other to listen. It was nothing compared to how they used to spend entire briefings making out right when they'd started dating.

"Please if I wanted to get ignored I would go home to my children which honestly I wish I could" M muttered.

He gave one of his snakes a pat on the head before sending it to twist around Remus' neck which made them both shut up very quickly.

"So about the case. Agent 0012-"

"Like Emile Picani 0012?" Remy interrupted.

"No agent 0012 the giant whale. Yes Picani"

"Oh he's a great kisser! Babe y'know how I like worked in the Q department a bit before becoming a full fletched agent. Yeah I was Pic's quartermaster. We would stay together during missions sometimes. We made out lots and he showed me a bunch of like cartoons"

Deceit put on a more serious expression "He's gone off the radar. He was sent on a mission to Latvia together with 005. Agent 005 has been confirmed dead. Right now we're suspecting that Picani is the killer"

"He wouldn't!" Remy objected.

"We can never be sure. He could have gone rough or been paid to turn sides. Or he's being tortured right at this moment. Anything could have happened"

"I wish I was being tortured right at this moment" Remus who had completely zoned out until now added.

"Well you can gladly take his place if you found him then. He and 005 were supposed to attend a poker night. I suggest you two attend it in case he is there. Disguised of course. If he's gone rough we can't have him be hostile towards you if he recognises you.

"Non suspicious straight couple?" Remus asked while looking over at Remy.

"Non suspicious straight couple!" They replied while high fiveing him.

A bit over a day later later Remus was driving a silver aston martin. They were on their way to the casino which was placed away from any nearby town. Among the snowy hills the ice casino stood tall.

"Girl these shoes hurt worse than the time I got shot" Remy groaned while fixing their high heels.

"You can just change shoes y'know" Remus replied.

They looked at him as if he'd just spit in their food "No??? It's part of the character girl!! Like you can't do a great disguise if you don't dress like the character would"

"Which characters are we tonight?"

Remy shone up into a smile "Glad you asked! You are Louis Roy. French guy who inheritated his dad's company. Total asshole. Straight cis you know the type. You're 36-"

"Is that why you put all that make up on me? To make me look old?"

"Yep. And your mustache tots helped. I'm Chelsea Roy. 24. Model. Married you for the money. Housewife. I'm cheating on you with your dad"

Remus let out a fake audible gasp "In return I only married you because I liked your feet model work"

"Touche"

The car stopped in the parking lot of the casino. Remus leaned back in his seat and checked his gun. He glanced over at his spouse who was strapping a blade to their thigh.

"What?" They asked when they caught him looking.

"Nothing" There was a soft smile on his lips "I just love you. Like a giant elephants heart ripped out and bleeding on the ground love y'know"

"I know"

Remy unbuttoned the top button on Remus' tuxedo shirt. They pressed a kiss right below his shoulder, leaving a red lipstick mark, before buttoning it again so it was hidden.

"Just as a reminder" They explained with a cheeky smile.

Remy leanded against Remus' shoulder to fully look like arm candy as they entered the casino. A worker took their coats by the door. Uphead was a luxurious bar made of ice and a large area with tables here and there to mingle. To the left was the casino area. It was the only place where nothing was made out of ice. Instead glistening lights shone on red slot machines and people in expensive clothing were gathered around large poker tables. To the right was the entrance to the casino's hotel and the desk to get keys.

The couple casully went around the mingle area while looking for Picani in the crowd of hundreds of people.

"People are looking at you" Remus mumbled to them after at least 2 guys has been too busy looking at his spouse to not walk into walls.

"Who can blame them" Remy shrugged.

They had on a dark blue satin dress with an open back and a slit on the front so they could move easier. Their wavy light brown hair was pressed down under a blond wig and they had a fake sapphire necklace around their neck. Their dark eyeliner stood out against their pale skin. Remus had on a black tuxedo with a matching bowtie. His dark brown, nearly black hair had been slicked back. His olive toned bordering on brown skin honestly looked amazing in the lighting of the casino.

"Q said Picani was supposed to stay in room 235 so I'll like go and get the key while you like mingle or something I dunno. Kay?" Remy more commanded then asked.

"Yes dear! " He did a mini salute while sticking his tounge out before walking away.

All the keys to the rooms were hanging on the wall behind the desk. Remy took off their necklace while walking up to it. They fixed their posture and took a deep breathe to get ready to make their voice as high as possible.

"Exscuse me sir!" They put on a panicked tone as they walked behind the desk.

The man who presumebly worked at the hotel glanced at them before doing a double take and full on looking at them with heart eyes. "Something wrong?"

They put on a bright smile and twirled the end of their hair between their fingers "Yeah I uh just kinda dropped my necklace and it's like suuuper hard to put on by my own so could you like put it on for me? Pleease?"

"Of course!"

Remy handee him the necklace and turned towards the wall. While he was busy putting it on they took the keys to room 235 without making a single sound. In one smooth motion they stuck it to where the blade was already strapped to their thigh.

"Done!" He said.

They sent him another smile "Do I look good?"

"You look amazing!!"

"Aww thanks sweetie"

They sauntered of without another word. They took a glass of champange from a server they passed to look more casual. They inspected the key while looking for Remus. When they stuck their nails down into it a mark was left if only for a moment. It was a fake.

Remus was sitting by the poker table, loudly boosting about a made up story while betting way more money than he should. He shone up into a grin when he saw Remy. They leaned on his chair and moved one hand to comb through his hair. He moved an arm around their waist to pull them closer knowing fully well that his spouse was distracting everyone else in the poker game.

"Got the key?" He whispered.

"Got the key. It's a replica. I can see it"

"Okay so Picani has the other one. Makes sense. Now we know he's alright"

"Nah girl" Remy glanced around at the other players "Trick them into shoving their keys. Trust me"

"I always do" Remus put on a cocky smirk and leaned his elbows onto the table "Isn't this game becoming a bit boring? How about this: we all bet the amount of money our hotel rooms cost. Including the ones just for the ladies if you get me hurr hurr" He took out the key to his room he'd gotten from Q and laid it on the table "Just as a showing"

Most of the people had been drinking so they all threw up their keys without much thought. Remy subtly moved around the table and glanced at the keys while Remus continued with the game.

Remy stopped midstepped and quickly walked back to him. They made it look like they were kissing his cheek when they were actually whispering

"The mistah on the other side of the table was the one who threw the second 235 key. You know his name or do I have to like pretend flirt the ugly bastard?"

"Ron Stewart. Was real quick to introduce himself just to brag about his money"

"Good. Q can deal with like finding info about him. We gotta find Picani"

They grabbed him by his arm and dragged him up from the table. Remus made some comment about women always hurrying to the other people around the table while quickly throwing his cards away.

He took their hand in his and intertwined their fingers as they entered the hotel part. Ice chandelierd hung in the hallways and deep crimson mattresses where laid over the icy floor. He held his other hand close to where his gun holster was hidden under his jacket.

The door up to the second floor was locked. The two of them glanced at each other. Now they relly knew something was off. Remy took out 2 hairpins from their wig and unlocked the door in under 3 minutes.

The hallways were eerie and quiet. The lights were low and the sounds from the casino were now only dull faraway whispers.

Sudden footsteps were heard. Remy pressed their back against the wall and pulled Remus by his collar into a deep kiss. Out of the corner of their eye they saw a guard walk into the hallway. It was clear there was a gun hidden in a holster connected to his belt. The enby hoped he would just leave them alone if they made out hard enough. It usually worked.

When he saw them his already grumpy expression turned into a grimace. He grabbed onto Remus' shoulder and forced him out of the kiss.

"Visitors aren't allowed on the second floof" He said in a gruff voice.

"Oh come on. Whats a guy gotta do to get some privacy" Remus replied while keeping his arm around Remy's shoulder. They nodded along while blinking innocently and swaying back and forth.

The guard seemed to think for a moment. He took a step back before in a split second pulling out his gun and pointing it at them.

Remus went on instinct as he moved forward and forced the gun out of his hand. He stood like a shield in front of Remy in case it shot. The guard stumbled back as the gun was dragged out of his hands.

Remy shot forward. They dug their nails down into the guard's wrist and kicked his knee to get him off his balance. With a huff they turned around and with the motion swung him over their shoulder and down on the ground. Before he even had time to regain his breathe they kicked their foot onto his neck, knocking him out instantly.

"Should keep him out for long enough" They commented while leaning down to feel his pulse.

"I love it when you do that sudden kissy thing. I wish murderous people would walk in on us more so you'd do it more often" Remus replied.

"Babe you can literally ask me to kiss you whenever"

"It's not the same if the threat of death isn't looming over us!!" Remus did an overexagarated pout.

Remy stood up and moved the blade on their thigh to their hand "Leave that to when we've found Picani" They said while continuing into the next hallway.

Remus quickly followed them, even walking a bit before them so if another guard showed up they would shoot at him first. "So eager to see him huh?"

"Duh. He was like the closest thing I had to a boyfriend before I met you. Like sure we were never official but we kissed and did all that sorta couplesy stuff. I haven't seen him like years! I wanna catch up y'know"

"Do I have to be afraid of being replaced" Remus joked.

They bumped against his shoulder "Babe neva!"

He was about to reply with something lovey dovey but the conversation immediatly stopped as they both saw it. Room 235. The door stood slightly open.

They moved silently, weapons in hand. Remy was the first in. They looked around with urgency in their eyes. They searched through the entrance before going into the bedroom. Remus checked the bathroom but there wasn't a trace of him. No traces of other people either.

A sudden choked back sob came from the bedroom. Remus ran to it while holding back the urge to yell out his lover's name.

Remy stood with shaking shoulders by the door. On the floor with his back leaned against the bed sat Emile Picani. Dead.

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dottie-wan-kenobi · 4 years

Note

I know you sent me this but the main Dick ships (and dickkoryroy as well)!! If you want to do them all!

ahhh ty ty!!

Dick/Kory

this is my ride or die. I want them together always. they were made for each other, they have such a happy and healthy relationship, it’s just. perfect. perfect perfect perfect.

Dick/Roy

I already did this one!! but I will say that like they are such an OTP and I want them together dammit!! if DC won’t let me have Dick/Kory I want this!!! and I want Roy to have his friend back!!!!

Dick/Babs

BIG TIME notp. I can’t look at fanart, I don’t like to read fics with them even as a minor pairing, I refuse to read most comics with these two in them purely because they’re in a relationship. I will say a lot of my feelings towards them have been inspired by how much certain canon writers and certain parts of fandom put down a certain other red head in order to make Babs look better. the slut shaming is out of this world. I prefer this ship to be a childhood crush from Dick to Babs with no reciprocation bc Babs should be too old for him when he’s a kid, and then by the time it’d be okay, he is with someone else. I have a never-ending well of salt about these two but kjfjksahjh I’ll leave it here

Dick/Wally

I also already did this one lol BUT basically I agree w you that I prefer Wally/Linda over Wally/Dick and I like these two better as friends generally

Dick/Joey

not quiteeeee an OTP but I do adore them together and if Dick can’t be with Kory or Roy, I’d want Dick and Joey together!! it’s practically canon anyway haha

Dick/Kory/Roy

I !!! WANT !!! THIS !!! I love them so much I want more of them!!! I love Dick/Kory, I love Dick/Roy, I love Kory/Roy like . this is perfect for me and for the characters. blessed ot3.

#ask games #asks #anti dickbabs #ig??#dukethvmas

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saunteringhusbands · 4 years

Text

“What are your thoughts on me?” Jason looks down at Roy who begged the question while tying his shoes. Jason opened his mouth, though nothing came out, as he wasn’t quite sure what it implied. Roy rose up, locked eyes with the other boy. Looked to his lips then back up, studied those blue eyes and waited.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the response was gravelly. He turned his back on the red-head to put on his jacket.

Roy grabbed at Jason’s hand and tugged. He spun him around and took a step forward, holding the other man in place. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Jason stared down at their hands, eyes transfixed on how perfectly their fingers tied together. Roy was right. He knew exactly what he meant. He couldn’t answer yet, though, the words weren’t there and any spoken would simply be forced. He leaned forward instead, squeezed the hand he was holding and parted his lips and fell into Roy. And one could say that was an answer enough for Roy. He smiled into the kiss and moved his arms to embrace Jason. Both consider it the start of their life together.

Not much time passes, some months, maybe a year maybe two. They’re shopping downtown, in some furniture store and Jason is looking at plates. He’s holding a blue one in his hands, inspecting its ridges. Roy looks up from a selection of hand cloths to focus on Jay. He smiles softly.

“What are your thoughts on moving in together?” Roy asks, stalking over.

Jason raises an eyebrow, ponders slightly, and bites his lip. He eyes the atrocious, bright orange wash cloth in Roy’s hand. “Fine,” he starts, “but only if I’m in charge of the decor.” He tears the cloth away and gives Roy a kiss in place of it. It’ll simply have to do.

They’re walking through the park. It’s warm, that first solid week of spring when all signs of winter are out of sight, out of mind, and the flowers begin to bud. They’re hand in hand, strolling down the sidewalk path. Neither is really talking, save for simple phrases, lines about the weather and a bird over yonder and what they’ll have for dinner. Things are good for them right now.

Roy takes mental notes of the dogs. He turns to Jason, ever so suddenly. The corner of his lip rises and he looks down at the ground thoughtfully.

“What are your thoughts on getting a dog?”

Jason chuckles. They spend the rest of the afternoon spit-balling names back and forth. They spend the following day picking out chew toys and a leash and collar and harness and food bowls and a bed at the local pet store. By the weekend they’re at the shelter, wandering up and down aisles of kennels. They find a pitbull named Raptor. Jason chats with the receptionist and fills out adoption papers. Roy sits with the dog on the ground, covering him in kisses, scratches, and belly rubs. Jason smiles at the sight.

They just finished dinner, a roast chicken with mashed potatoes and corn. Jason cooked the majority of it, and he does the dishes now, scrubbing away at their plates and setting them aside to be dried. He hears Roy enter the kitchen and teases him with a comment about having to do dishes alone. No response. He rolls his eyes and shuts the water off, drying his hands, ready to say something else, but Roy beats him to it.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?”

Jason’s jaw drops the slightest bit. He turns around. Roy is knelt before him on the ground, a look of pure wonder on his face. One hand is caressing an open box, revealing a simple gold ring. The other reaches out for Jason. He grabs that hand, pulling Roy up. There’s a foot of space between the two and neither’s quite sure what to do. One is holding on anxiously, awaiting an answer he’d hoped would come without thought. The other is terrified. His mind is going a million miles a minute. He loves Roy. He’s sure he loves Roy. Yet, there’s still a tugging, a fear.

It doesn’t matter. It can’t possibly matter. From their last four years together, Roy has given Jason everything he could ever possibly need; every ounce of solace, every kiss, every hug, every dance, every smile. Life with Roy is comfort. It’s serenity. It’s everything he’s never had, everything he’s longed for.

He collapses then, into freckled arms, an embrace. “Yes,” he relieves. “God fucking yes, Roy, god do I want to marry you.”

They spend the night covering one another in kisses, drinking the finest wine their cupboard could serve them, straight from the bottle. They make plans. They aren’t in a rush, but they are in love, and perhaps there isn’t much of a difference.

Their wedding is small. Immediate family and friends only. Alfred walks Jason down the aisle. They marry and eat cake and Dick gives a speech about each of the grooms and they spend the night dancing to a shitty playlist put together by Tim. Oliver and Bruce try to outdo each other with wedding gifts. And at the end of the night, when it’s just the pair of them, Red Hood and Arsenal, Robin and Speedy, Jason and Roy, they hold one another close and talk in soft voices, breath entwining, much like their bodies beneath the sheets. They speak of love and promises.

Months later. Roy is working at the dining room table, clicking away on his laptop. Jason is in the living room, rereading Hamlet for the umpteenth time, twisting his wedding ring around on his finger. He loves that damn ring. Once so afraid of the weight it might bring, he’s been met with the utter opposite. He finds relief in it all. In having someone to hold onto when the nights get long, look forward to on the stressful days, lounge with when the outside world is gray and he’s in need of a day off. They work together. Everything aligned so perfectly, fit so snugly, like pieces of a puzzle.

Jason’s never been happier.

He looks up now and is met with the image of Roy standing in the door frame, laptop in his hands still.

“What are your thoughts on a house with a white picket fence?”

They move to the middle of the country, far from both Gotham and Star City. They hang up their capes and never touch a weapon again. Their days open up and begin to be spent painting the walls of the house. Their nights are spent cuddled up on the couch, Jason reading aloud to Roy and Raptor, exposing them to worlds they’d never before tasted, never even thought to step foot in.

With bliss comes rain and when it rains it pours. They just had a big fight. Each party said things he didn't mean, and though they both know they weren’t coming from truthful places, neither is ready to apologize just yet.

They sit side by side on their bed, a few feet between them. Both stare absently at the wall. They won’t go to bed angry, it’s something they both agreed on. Still, this waiting game doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and it’s getting late. Roy has work early the next morning, Jason an appointment.

It’s half past one when Roy breaks the silence. He gnaws on his cheek, straightens his back, bows his head and looks at his husband out of the corner of his eye.

“What are your thoughts on kids?”

Jason’s shoulders drop, all pent-up tension released in a single second. He crawls across the bed and falls into Roy’s lap, wrapping arms around a slender waist. They stay up late dreaming up a family.

Jason doesn’t make it to his appointment that day. Roy calls in sick to work.

Over the course of the next few years, they adopt three children, who they love as much as if they were their own. Their house becomes chaotic, the good kind. Jason cooks family meals and cleans up and gets the kids to school. Roy works as an engineer for some company and comes home every day to his husband and children.

When the kids are asleep, and the house is still, and the night is a haven in opposed to a battleground, Jason and Roy still snuggle up on the couch for Jason to read aloud to his husband, their dog at their feet. It’s a particular night. Jason’s back is against Roy’s chest, Roy’s fingers are running through Jason’s hair as he reads Picture of Dorian Gray. There’s a candle burning on the coffee table, and a small, warm lamp is turned on from its place on an end table, but besides that, the house is dark, it’s sleepy, it’s homey. Roy trails kisses down Jason’s neck.

“What are your thoughts on me?” He begs, a whisper.

Jason smiles. It’s been twelve years since he was first asked that. He remembers his response to it then: a passionate kiss, a skipped patrol, a night in bed together. He had been young, full of fear, yet lust, yet a deep, growing love for this boy before him. And now, today, tonight, he sits with twelve years of experience in his back pocket.

He’s fallen in love with Roy. With his hands, freckles, eyes, cupids bow, back dimples. With his corny jokes, useless inventions, stupid catch phrases that aren’t catchy in the slightest. With his mannerisms, the essence of him, the ins, the outs, the very existence that is Roy William Harper.

Jason’s heart swells, it’s warm, his head is an eruption of butterflies and he simply thinks to himself, “I love him.”

“My thoughts, Roy Harper, love of my life, father of my children,” Jason starts slowly, taking small breaks between words, as if sounding it all out, warming up to the water before jumping in head first. “Are that I love you, and that you complete me.”

Roy buries his face in the crook of Jason’s neck. “God, I fucking love you.”

They fall asleep there, on the couch, a tangled mess of limps and a book discarded to the floor. They awake the next morning to their children bouncing atop them. They spend the Saturday as a family. Roy plays a board game with the youngest two while Jay helps the eldest with a history assignment in the kitchen. In the midst of it all, they exchange a look, a knowing look, a loving one, one which promises so much, one which reads, ‘we’ve made it.’

#just a drabble #this wasn't the piece i was planning on posting this weekend but the idea came to me this morning so #here we are #jason todd #roy harper #jayroy #menziewrites #red hood #arsenal

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nightwingvixen23 · 4 years

Text

JayRoy short fanfic I whipped up inspired by this god damned song right here lol👇

youtube

@aceofenderdark i was in a legit mood lol

💘💘💘

Roy speaks in the way that Siren’s sing, flooding venom in to my mouth and watching it drip like a ruptured peach to the sting of front teeth. Ripping such fragile skin into nasty pieces of flesh, letting lay bare the very salacious core hidden in the seam.

His flaming hair has grown out (frequently used to twisting or tying it up into a knot) tonight it remains loose. Untamed. And my fingers play through that somehow flawless shit storm, tangling each lock into madness; they overall might dangle into his glaring eyes but that does nothing to befog the fire smoking from within. He looks wild above me. Never have I asked to be such a blooded piece of meat at the ready to be gutted; staring into the yawning mouth of the lion, of whom, is fucking starved.

Right now, I know that he knows that it’s not his nails nor teeth that I fear will gift me new damage, but his eyes. They inspire, burn, destroy. I’m left suspended in the company of a gore leaking orifice that bellows ‘look at me’ should my mind toe outside the line of our depraved Love Nest; this being no more then the feral charge then skirmish to the floor of a Gotham City safehouse.

We sure are givin’ some poor son of a bitch a show, I think, spotting the newfangled surveillance camera I hadn’t noticed sooner, newly installed high left. My mind darts to Tim making my hands sweat, however, Roy’s fingers bruising my chin pull me back down into the waters of our fucked up little fantasy.

The holsters loyal to each my thighs are disengaged, followed by the faint skidding rattle of two M1911 pistols being launched across a cement floor. This all titters a secret to me that I am now in the hands of no mercy.

It’s during a moment like this (offering myself over to be caught in the line of fire) that I swear by the unholy mess in me that Roy Harper is some sort of Saintly Deity of Insanity that which no god can put a name to. Why else would I worship this fucker’s dick like i do ? Call me crude, vulgar, whatever...doesn’t change the fact that the shitty ass truth, is in fact, the shitty ass truth. That truth being that I demand his unsympathetic grip akin to an infant demanding it’s very first breath of life. The affliction of every scar mapping my body is something that I didn’t fuckin’ ask to be met with, nevertheless, something about the power that comes with directing an overdose of a serpentine thirst such as this one that makes me feel more in control then when my hands are gripping lead.

Our lips meet with vigor. I’ve never known it to be smooth. Never known us to take our time, yanno ? It’s always fierce. Hot. A clash of potent teeth seeking to grip and rip apart tender skin. To taste blood. And what’s a good fuck without the taste of blood ? C’mon. We’re deep. We’re thorough: two adrenaline filled junkies having gotten our first real swallow of the golden necator that has seduced us, dripping from uncut fruit laying bare in our wake while with instructions to never have one bite; we’re obsessed.

The tinkering jangle of an unhooked belt. The lick of Roy’s tongue into my mouth still tasting of shitty liquor from the corner store. A sinners Paradise. I tilt my head back for him and let teeth ascend onto my neck. I’m the lamb, sticking it’s neck out for the butcher. I want this. I want him to brand me intensely then cool it with a kiss because that is something that this world has done too many fucking times to me, and I’ve got the scars to prove it.

Yeah, only because the world never did leave a kiss of apology.

Chewed mint gum, stale tobacco, and secrets kept out in the rain for far too long, left to tarnish with the coming of nightfall; this is his eternal flavour.

Isn’t there some goddamn way for us to endure this way ? Twined together ? Just like this. Simply him ritualizing my abdomen that rose and fell with shaky gasps, his tongue marveling the carved indent of muscle there, tracing every groove proving personal fortitude. Proving that my ass didn’t get dropped down onto this fuckin waste land of a planet just to roll over like a creature without fight.

A trifling jungle, Life is.

“God. What a million mother fuckers would trade to see the Red Hood in this wrecked state. You wanna beg for me, doll ? That’s right. Beg for me then,” Roy’s voice is an instrument. His words, musical of filth. I’m being serenaded by the devil and it’s mother fuckin’ magical. Even so, I aim to punch him in the throat. I wasn’t gonna do much damage, was just gonna let him know what toes the line, but his hand wraps around my curled wrist and my bicep tenses. I’m straining to reach him. Straining to infect him, however somewhere in the tangle of that violence dance I strained also for his mouth like an addict for a needle. A taboo puppet. A homicidal angel, like he once called me before I spit in his eye earning my face into the wall.

What even are we doing, Roy Harper ? Why do we do this ? And why does it feel so right to scream your name into the hush of a blacked out room while you turn me inside out ? I’d ring God on the manner, but fuck—I just start pissing myself with laughter each time I start.

Gotta love this shade of grey I’ve established my life in the thick of. Grey is the blueprint of a soul caught in limbo. It’s a nice color. The ambiance is sedated, disrupted here and there by the tortured hollar of a condemned conscience—but life ain’t no fucking picnic.

Then again, even a tongue tied fool knows that.

…...

I can feel the frayed corners of ultimate reality beginning to shimmer. Roy watches me rising high even while knowing that soon I’ll crash, we will, together. And it’s so gorgeous for just a second that I could die like this. I know that it gets old hearing others romanticize death, yet I serious in the face of it. Serious and deeply, deeply in enamoured. Swept upon sandy beaches as to evade the lusting leviathan of the sea again and again. But I just wade back into the waters, deluded at times. Something like a drunk falling around town with an empty bottle of gin; everyone stares but no one will give directions to the nearest pub.

The vast gulf of the abyss beckons nearer with breath peppered by wanderlust and saliva spiked in moonshine. I can only take so much, however I’m forced, and so gorge on this easy feast.

Has a human ever been so unsteady and yet resistant ? So crippled and yet defiant ? I have many bones to pick with myself. I’ve splintered the masterpiece of my life into something ugly.

But I am a beast, aren’t I? And a Beast has always been one to see the Beauty in crude things. There is peace in the bloodstains, there is marvelous enrichment in the grimace of the faces. Cut me deeper Roy, squeeze red from my flesh so to let me continue my artistry. Open up the brushes of my fingers with your fangs and allow this woeful composer to create something for us both to laugh at.

Each finger in my mouth taste like pure sin. They scrape my gums until lips go down onto mine; then the fingers are put back into place. I choke. He chuckles. Fucking bastard.

Through these eyes of mine white with carnal tears, I look up and into the face of the man I didn’t mean to fall in love with wearing my blood upon his lips like a god damned badge of honor.

There’ll be no victor at the end of this unchaste warfare and I feel the cannon fires terminal blow. Yup. that’s my fucked up heart. What a tool.

But it’s been this way for centuries, hasn’t it ?

Sensuality is the baddest of bitches with hips that carve into yours tastefully. She’s the perfect fusion of warm and wanton that leaves you so powerfully drugged, that when you turn over to sleep soundly for having seen Nirvana it’s self, she’s able to hijack your shit with ease. Now your ass is left high and dry. But hey, you gotta relish her; notably on the day you find Sensuality knocking at your door again for having conceived with you a child named Regret, something that she drops off for you to raise alone. Now you’re in solitary as Regret clings to you tightly, sucking the life from your chest, but yet, still you nourish it. You love it because shit, it’s half of Sensuality isn’t it ? And had she not once been your reason worth living ?

I twist my fingers around Roy’s cross necklace still finding a way to glint silver in the dark, and pull him down into me with a grunt. For once, it’s his eyes that are glossed with hysterical fever, swimming and asphyxiated by all 7 of the Deadly Sins.

Yeah. That’s right fucker. At least for tonight, “You’re mine.”

Was that his whine that I heard ? Unquestionable was his moan. I think I hear him praying, but that doesn’t change the fact that come sunrise

We’ll both be waking up alone;

the bruises I left on his neck the only souvenirs of my Love.

#My fanfiction #Jayroy #jason todd #red hood #roy harper #arsenal #dramatic as fuck #lmao

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bamby0304 · 5 years

Text

Her Saviours- Ch.27

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Heat. Angst. Death. Fluff.

Bamby

The sound of the motel door opening drew your attention to it as Dean walked in. Taking one step into the room, he tensed and stopped on the spot. You watched his nostrils twitch as he took in the scent of the room, no doubt smelling your heat and sex.

“Open a window,” he grunted, pushing the door shut with a resound thump.

Averting your gaze, you tugged on the flannel you wore and scurried off the bed, moving to do as he said. You were grateful you’d decided to get dressed after waking up in Sam’s arms… if you’d been naked it would have just pissed Dean off more.

You’d hesitated on what flannel to wear. Part of you wanted to wrap yourself in Sam’s scent to prolong the buzz you still felt from being with him. Another part of you wanted to huddle in Dean’s, to even out the brother’s scents so you were still close to them both. Even though they wouldn’t admit it to you, neither of them would have liked you wearing the other’s clothes, so you opted for your own.

Tossing his keys onto the table by the door, Dean turned his attention to his brother as he fought not to snap. “What'd you find out?”

Sam’s voice was quiet as he answered, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

Turning in his seat at the dining table, Sam looked up at his brother with guilty puppy eyes. “Marshall Hall died at 4:17.”

Dean froze. “The exact time I was healed.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, looking away. “So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits.” He handed over the stories he’d printed. “Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.”

Climbing back onto your bed, you watched the brothers carefully.

You knew knowing the truth was going to make them both feel extremely guilty, and that honestly hurt you. Despite them being annoying and sometimes dicks, you cared for them deeply. If you didn’t care you wouldn’t have stuck around for so long. It’s why you put up with so much crap.

Seeing them take on mountain loads of guilt just made you want to hold them tight and tell them everything was going to be okay. But it wasn’t, you all knew that. So instead you just folded your legs in front of you as you watched silently.

“Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?” Dean asked as he took a seat across from his brother.

“Somehow. LeGrange… he's trading a life for another.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?”

“Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.”

Sam was right. If Marshall was on the reverend's radar then it didn’t matter who he healed, the guy would have died. The church had gathered for a reason, someone would have been healed.

Tossing the obits onto the table, Dean pushed himself out of his chair. “You never should've brought me here.”

Sam sighed, the look on his face telling you just how horrible he felt. “Dean, I was just trying to save your life.”

“But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me,” Dean snapped.

“I didn't know.” Sam’s gaze dropped to his hands as they sat in his lap. Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to his brother. “The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?”

Dean scoffed, “Oh, he's not doing it. Something else is doing it for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“The old man I saw on stage. I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew.”

“You knew what? What are you talking about?”

“There's only one thing that can give and take life like that.” You and Sam looked to Dean, confused. “We're dealing with a reaper.”

…

Standing in the shower, you tried to ignore the light tug in your stomach. You were fine, you still had hours before it would get worse, but that didn’t change the fact your heat was rearing its ugly head up again.

The brothers were in the next room, researching reapers to find a way to stop Roy. You wanted to help, obviously, but they weren’t making your situation any better. Their scents were thicker than usual, either because of your heat or because of each other.

If it was the latter, then things were probably not going to get better anytime soon. Neither Dean or Sam were really into talking about their feelings- Dean less so- which meant you were going to have to tread carefully until one or both of them snapped.

Really, it didn’t make sense to you. Even though Sam had left for a few years, that shouldn’t have changed anything. They were still brothers, you were all still pack, and you weren’t technically anyone’s exclusively. If the issue here was you being shared between them then that was just crazy. It’s not like that hadn’t been the case before Sam left for Stanford.

Shutting the water off, you shivered at the cold air as you scrambled out to grab a towel and dry yourself quickly. You’d grabbed some fresh clothes, in the hopes the lack of scents on them would help calm your heat. Slipping and tugging them on, you quickly got dressed before heading out into the main room as you used your towel to pat dry your hair.

“Hey.” Dean smiled, reaching out for you.

Taking his hand, you let him lead you onto the seat next to his before continuing to dry your hair.

“You really think it's the Grim Reaper?” Sam asked Dean as he looked over his laptop to his brother. “Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?”

Dean shook his head. “No no no, not the reaper, a reaper. There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them.”

“But you said you saw a dude in a suit,” Sam noted.

“What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?” Dean gave his brother a pointed look. “You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you, which is why I could see it and you couldn't.”

“Maybe,” Sam mumbled, his mind drifting.

“There's nothing else it could be Sam. The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?”

“That cross.”

“Hmm?” You lowered your towel and looked over at the younger brother.

Flicking through a deck of Tarot cards, Sam explained, “There was this cross, I noticed it in the church and I knew I had seen it before.” Finding what he was looking for, he showed the card to you and Dean. “Here.”

It was death.

“A Tarot?” Dean asked, taking the card from him.

Sam shrugged. “It makes sense. A tarot dates back to the early christian era right, when some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff? Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?”

“So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?”

“If he is he's riding the whirlwind. It's like putting a dog leash on a great white.”

Dropping the card on the table, Dean grabbed the empty coffee mug and stood, moving to the sink. Here was a pause as he stood there, thinking the situation over before saying, “Ok then we stop Roy.”

“How?”

Leaning against the bench, Dean gave his brother another pointed look. “You know how.” His jaw clenched.

Your stomach dropped. “Dean… killing Roy… he’s a human.”

“The guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book,” he countered.

“No.” Sam shook his head, not budging on the subject. “We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is.”

“Ok, we can’t kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any bright ideas college boy?”

“Break the bond tying the reaper to Roy.” You shrugged.

“That.” Sam nodded, pointing to you. “If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta...figure out what it is. And how to break it.” Pushing out of his seat, Sam started towards the bathroom. “There’s another service this afternoon. We’ll leave in ten,” he said before closing the door behind him.

As soon as the two of you were alone, you and Dean turned to each other.

“You’re staying-”

“I’m not staying here,” you finished before he could.

Mouth snapping shut, he clenched his jaw as he stared at you. “Y/N…”

“I’m in heat, I know that, and I can feel it stirring a little. But I’m fine,” you assured him.

“Yeah,” he pushed off the counter and started towards the beds where his bag sat, “‘Cause Sam helped you.”

“Don’t.”

He turned on his heels. “You smell like him.”

“Dean…”

“This whole room stinks of the two of you.”

Sighing, you pushed yourself up to your feet and moved to him. “Nothing has changed between us.”

“You sure?” As you stopped in front of him he searched your eyes, looking for a sign that things had changed.

“I’m in heat, Sam’s an Alpha I trust, you-”

“Were dying in hospital,” he finished for you. “What about today? Was it a convenience thing? He just happened to be here first?”

Yes. To be honest, that’s why it had been Sam today. If Dean had shown up first then you would have been just as grateful and happy to take his knot. There was no favourite, here. You didn’t care for one more than the other. The feelings you had were strong, and deep, and equal.

“I know I flirt with other women, and I know I sleep with most of them,” he lifted his hand to caress your cheek, “but you’re it for me.”

“Dean-”

The bathroom door opened, cutting you off as Sam stepped out. You glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing the way he was eyeing the close proximity between you and his brother.

Clearing your throat, you stepped away from Dean. “We ready?”

“You’re coming?” Sam asked as he grabbed his jacket from the back of his seat. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“If it helps, I’ll just keep an eye out and make sure you don’t get busted by the sheriff or Mrs. LeGrange,” you offered. “I won’t get in the way of the reaper.”

Sam shrugged. “It would be safer to keep you close by. That way you can’t lie about having another flare up.”

“Lie?” Dean looked from his brother to you, confused. “What?”

“Y/N could barely stand when I got back,” Sam explained as he started towards the door, watching as you ducked your head guiltily. “She didn’t call either of us because she thought we were too busy to help.”

Dean’s jaw clicked. “Really?” You looked up and found him watching you with a disapproving glare. “Then you’re definitely coming. The last thing we need is you passing out while we’re gone.”

You were never going to hear the end of this. The brothers were already so protective of you… you wouldn’t be surprised if they never left you alone during a heat ever again.

“Come on.” Dean slipped his hand into yours, leading you to the door. “Let’s get this done before someone else dies.”

…

“If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book,” Sam noted as he opened your door.

You slid out of the car and looked around, noticing how there seemed to be a few more people outside the service tent then there’d been before.

“See if you can find it.” Dean checked his watched as the three of you met at the trunk. “Hurry up too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. I'll try to stall Roy.” Leaning towards you, he cupped your cheek and gave you a quick kiss. “Go with Sam. Make sure no one catches him.”

Kissing him back, you nodded. “Be safe.”

“You too.” Letting you go, he jogged over to the tent.

“Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer.” The protester from before was back. As you and Sam passed him, he handed you both a flyer.

“You keep up the good work,” Sam told him.

“Thank you.”

Grabbing your hand, Sam continued towards the LeGrange’s house. “I’m gonna sneak in. I want you to stay out of sight, but keep an eye out. If you see someone head towards the house, stall them.”

“Got it.”

…

As Sam ducked into the house, you did as you were told as stood guard. Your eyes scanned the area, watching as more and more people ducked into the tent. Everyone was so focused on what Roy could do, you went completely unnoticed.

When Sam emerged, you could tell something was very wrong.

“What’d you find?”

“Come on.” Grabbing your hand, he led you towards the porch steps as he pulled out his phone and dialled Dean’s number, putting him on loudspeaker.

“What have you got?”

“Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral,” Sam started as the two of you jogged down the steps. “And I think I know who's next on his list. Remember that protester?”

“What, the guy in the parking lot?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I'll find him. But you can't let Roy heal anyone, alright?”

As you and Sam hurried through the parking lot, winding through the cars, looking into windows, you fought your building panic. You knew that if you didn’t find the protester in time then he would likely die. Even if you did find him, however, that didn’t mean you’d be able to save him.

“Help!”

You and Sam spun on your heels, looking in the direction where the voice had come from before tuning to each other. Then you were off, feet pounding on the dirt ground as you prayed you’re reach the man in time.

“Help! Help me please!”

He was pressed against a car, scruying back as he stared wide eyed at nothing. Only you knew it wasn’t nothing. You knew it was the reaper. Time was running out.

“Where is he?” Sam asked as he put himself in front of the protester, looking around wildly.

“Right there!” He gestured in front of Sam.

“Run!” Grabbing the protester’s arm, you pulled him along hoping that if you kept him moving you could keep him safe.

…

Behind you, Sam pulled out his phone as it rang. “David, I think it's ok,” he told the protester once whoever was on the other end of the call- no doubt Dean- has spoken.

You let out a small breath of relief as you stopped moving.

David moved a little further, still freaked. As he stepped out into a clearing, however, he only got worse.

“No!”

David dropped to his knees, before falling to the ground. You watched him struggle to breathe as his eyes turned white and skin went grey. It was horrible, seeing him dying right there in front of you while you could do nothing to help.

Sam grabbed you out of instinct and held you back as he hurried towards David, looking down at him with no clue how to help. “Dean it didn't work.The reaper's still coming! I'm telling you, I'm telling you it didn't work. Roy must not be the one controlling this thing.”

The panic lasted a moment longer… and then it stopped.

Hanging up the phone, Sam got to his knees by David to check him over. “You okay?”

“What the hell was that?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Sam noted. “I think it might be best if you get out of here while you can.”

Nodding frantically, David scrambled to his feet and ran.

Getting back up, Sam turned to you. “It’s Sue Ann.”

That actually made sense to you. “How’d you know how the victims were being picked?”

“I found newspaper clippings-” Sam stopped, coming to the same conclusion at you. “Roy can’t read the paper. He’s blind.”

“We all thought it was him because he’s doing the healing. But he’s just a pawn. His wife is the one pulling the reaper’s puppet strings. She’s the one it’s bound to. She’s the one we’ve gotta stop.”

…

Pushing through the crowd, you found Dean with Sue Ann, the sheriff and another officer.

“After everything we've done for you. After Roy healed you. I'm just very very disappointed Dean.” Sue Ann shook her head at Dean as he stared at her knowingly. She looked to the cops. “You can let him go. I'm not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with him as he sees fit.”

“We catch you round here again son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand?” the sheriff warned.

Dean gave a short nod. “Yes sir, fear of god. Got it.”

Shoving him, the cops then walked away

Looking up, Dean watched as you headed over to him. “The guy okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Sam wanted to make sure he actually left.”

“What about you?”

“I… I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Smiling, he reached up to brush his thumb along your cheek before leaning in to kiss you lightly. You smiled against him, melting into the familiar touch. It was nice to know he wasn’t upset with you, despite everything that had been going on.

Pulling back, Dean’s attention was caught by an approaching figure. “Layla…” He looked so guilty and ashamed.

“Why would you do that Dean?” She came to stop in front of the two of you. “It could have been my only chance.”

“He's not a healer.”

“He healed you,” she countered.

“I know it doesn't seem fair, and I wish I could explain. But Roy is not the answer, I'm sorry.”

Sighing, she shook her head softly. “Goodbye Dean.” Walking away, she glanced back at him. “I wish you luck. I really do.”

“Same to you,” he called back, his voice cracking. As she walked away he mumbled to himself, “You deserve it a lot more than me.”

Grabbing his hand, you tugged on him until he turned to you. “Don’t ever say that. She might deserve to be healed, but that doesn’t mean she deserves it more than you. You can’t compare your worth with someone else’s.”

Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You always see the good in me.”

“Because you’re a good man, Dean Winchester.” Tugging on his hand again, you began to back up. “Come on. Sam is probably waiting.”

Nodding, he let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Walking through the crowd, ignoring the few people who looked at Dean with distaste- they clearly knew he was the reason the service had been cut short- you overheard Roy’s voice.

“Private session tonight, no interruptions.” Looking over, you and Dean spotted him and Sue Ann talking to Layla’s mother. “I give you my word, I'll heal your daughter.”

You’d know saving David hadn’t meant the end of the case. Sue Ann still had control of the reaper, and until that bound was broken people’s lives were at risk.

...

“So Roy really believes.” Sam scoffed, shaking his head as he sat on his bed.

Walking over to the window, Dean looked outside. “I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing.”

“Well, I found this.” Sam pulled a little book from his jacket pocket. “Hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper,” he noted, handing the book over to Dean as he came to sit with you on the other bed.

“Must be a hell of a spell.”

“Yeah. You gotta build a black alter with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood.” Sam sighed, “To cross a line like that, a preacher's wife. Black magic. Murder. Evil.”

“Desperate,” Dean corrected. “Her husband was dying, she didn't have anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy.”

You would have done the same thing for Dean if Sam hadn’t found Roy. If things got bad, if your options were running out, you would have done whatever it took. Even if it meant risking your own soul.

Hell, you’d do it for Sam, too. Those boys… they meant everything to you.

Sam scoffed, “Cheating death, literally.”

“Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?”

“It’s power.” You shrugged, answering Dean’s question. “She realised what she could do, and when people thought Roy was the miracle after he was healed, then she decided to use that. Use that to spread the word of what they could do, and to punish those she deems immoral.”

Looking down at the little book, Dean shook his head. “May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work.”

“We gotta break that binding spell,” Sam noted.

Flicking through the pages, Dean came across a picture of a cross. “You know Sue Ann had a coptic cross like this. When she dropped it the reaper backed off.”

“So you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the altar?” Sam asked.

“Maybe both.” Dean tossed the book back to his brother. “Whatever we do we better do it soon, or he's healing Layla tonight.”

…

When you pulled up outside of Roy’s tent, you spotted the sheriff’s car parked right out front. No one was around though, more than likely gathered in the tent for the service. The service that was supposed to save Layla’s life.

“That's Layla's car.” Sam pointed out a nearby red car. “She's already here.”

Dean nodded, an air of sadness settling over him. “Yeah.”

“Dean-”

Not giving his brother a chance to finish, Dean cut Sam off, “You know if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gonna die in a couple o’ months.”

“What's happening to her is horrible. But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God.”

Staring out the front window, Dean didn’t say anything as he let Sam’s words settled. As he ignored whatever response he might’ve come up with. Sitting there, he paused a moment before getting out of the car, with you and Sam not too far behind.

Creeping over to the tent, the three of you found a crack and peeked inside, finding a small group of followers surrounding Layla and Roy on the stage.

“Gather round, please everyone, gather round.” Roy opened his arms out to everyone. “Come in closer, come on up.”

“Where's Sue Ann?” Dean asked, scanning the crowd, looking for her.

“House,” Sam suggested.

Pulling away from the tent, the three of you started towards the house… only to stop as you spotted the sheriff and another officer. They were drinking coffee or something like that, talking amongst themselves. Neither had spotted your group yet, but they were blocking your path to the house. If you wanted to get in there, you were going to have to get noticed.

“Go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up.” Dean shoved you and Sam behind a nearby car.

Frowning at his brother, Sam watched as Dean stepped out in the open. “What are you gonna-”

“Hey!” Dean called out, catching the cops’ attention. “You gonna put that fear of God in me?”

Dropping their coffee, the cops started towards Dean, running. Without missing a beat, he took off in the opposite direction, leading the cops away from you and Sam.

Hurrying towards the house and up the porch steps, you and Sam tried to stay out of sight as you peeked into the windows, looking for any sign of Sue Ann.

“Psst.”

You turned to Sam, seeing him gesturing you over to him. Stepping up to his side, you followed his gaze over the railing and spotted a basement door below. Between the cracks of the door, you could see light from the other side.

“Come on.” Sam started back down the porch steps with you right behind him.

Opening the basement doors, he held them as you slipped inside before he followed you in. The two of you were careful, looking around for any sign of Sue Ann. She didn’t seem to be around, but you did find something of use.

“Sam.” Grabbing his hand, you led him over to the opposite side of the basement to where the altar stood.

It was lit by multiple candles, and decorated with parts of dead animals, blood, horns… it was horrible. Sam had been right, this kind of magic was evil.

Sitting in the middle of the altar was a photo that made your heart leap. It was of Dean, taken from the security camera that first day before he’d been healed. His face had been crossed out with what you could only assume was blood.

Dean was the next victim.

“I gave Dean life, and I can take it away.”

You and Sam spun around to find Sue Ann standing by the basement stairs, watching you both disapprovingly.

Furious, Sam grabbed the altar and tipped it over, spilling everything onto the floor. The two of you started for Sue Ann then, but she was too close to the door. Before you could reach her she was out side, slamming the door shut in your face and locking them.

Reaching up, Sam tried to push it open, slamming his hands against the wood, but it didn’t budge.

“Sam, Y/N, can't you see?” Sue Ann started. “The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your brother is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will.” There was movement outside, as if she was moving away from the door. “Goodbye.”

Not one to give up, you and Sam surveyed. Sam grabbed a block of wood that stuck out from the wall and grunted as he tore it away. Using the wood, he smashed the window above him until the glass and the boards behind it broke.

“Come on.” He reached, tugging you closer and hoisting you up so you could creep through the window. “Run!” he yelled once you were outside. “Find Dean!”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you. Just go, now!”

Nodding, you scrambled up onto your feet, cutting your hand open on a piece of the broken glass as you did. Ignore the pain, you ran for the tent, praying you’d find Dean before it was too late.

…

When you found Dean, you found him kneeling in the parking lot… turning grey and clearly in pain. The groan that spilled from his lips spurred your forward.

Your feet slipped on the muddy ground as you ran towards him, not caring about the pain in your hand or the ache in your body. The only thing you cared about was getting to Dean. It didn’t even occur to you that there was nothing you could actually do to help. You just needed to be there to help him.

Reaching him, you dropped to your knees and fisted his shirt, holding him up. “Dean, look at me. Please, look at me.”

He groaned, eyes rolling back as his body grew tense because of the pain.

“No.” Shaking your head, you felt tears begin to stream down your face. “No, please. Not you. Not you. I just… I just got you back. I can’t… oh Dean, I can’t lose you.”

With blurred vision, you looked around, hoping to find any sign of Sue Ann. She was the one doing this to him. She was the one you needed to stop. But she was nowhere in sight.

Looking for her meant leaving Dean, and you just couldn’t do that. What if he died? What if you didn’t make it in time, if you didn’t stop her, and Dean died?

“I’m not leaving.” You looked into his greying face. “Don’t leave me… please.”

He could respond though… the reaper’s grip on him was too strong.

Dropping your head to his shoulder, you cried. You let your tears soak into his shirt as you felt him twitch below him. As you listened to him groan and grunt, the life slowly draining out of him.

“I wish it was me,” you sobbed. “I wish… I wish I could take your place.”

Sucking in a breath, Dean startled you as he dropped to the ground. You stayed kneeling where you’d been, now looking down at him as the colour returned to his face. He breathed in deeply, clutching at his chest, staring up at the sky.

“Dean!” You threw your arms around him tightly.

Groaning, he rubbed your back as you cried into his chest- though now you were crying with relief. “I’m okay,” he assured you.

“I thought it was too late.”

“I’m okay,” he repeated. “Hey, your hand.” Carefully, he grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away as he checked out the cut on your palm. “You hurt yourself.”

Wiping your tears away with your other hand, you looked at him as he eyes the cut with concern. “I’ll be okay.”

…

The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable. Sleeping had been weird, considering there were only two beds… and you had to pick between the brothers. In the end, you’d slept on the couch. You’d insisted you were just going to stay up and do some ‘research’, but really you just waited until the brothers were asleep so then you could crash without them fussing over you.

Now that it was morning, and the brothers had realised what you’d done, things were worse. Your decision to not sleep with either of them just confirmed their suspicions.

Dean now knew for sure that what you and Sam had wasn’t just convenience. Sam now knew that what you and he had didn’t mean there was nothing between you and Dean. You were stuck between two brothers, two Alphas, and it was terribly confusing.

A knock at the door offered a reprieve in the tension.

“I got it,” Sam called over his shoulder as he walked over to answer it. Standing on the other side was none other than Layla.

“Hey Layla. Come on in.” Sam gestured for her to enter.

She smiled shyly, her eyes turning to Dean. “Hey.”

Dean rose from where he’d been sitting on the bed, looking from you to her. “How did you know we were here?”

“Sam… called. He said you… wanted to say goodbye?”

Both you and Dean looked to Sam who shrugged. “Come on, Y/N.” He grabbed your bag off the bed. “Let’s go pack the car.”

Not having any reason to argue, you followed the younger Winchester out of the room. Before you left, you looked back at Dean and Layla. As Sam closed the door, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done this on purpose… if he was trying to prove a point to you.

Bamby

#alpha!sam fanfiction #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam x omega!you #alpha!sam x omega!y/n #alpha!dean fanfiction #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omega!you #alpha!dean x omega!y/n #her saviours

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cosmicheromp3 · 5 years

Text

so yesterday it was 2am and i was feeling soft and i remembered this dumb post, and, well, i made it into an actual thing. and today it was 12am and i was feeling soft again and finally finished editing it. anyways here have some dickroy tenderness

A fist connects to a jaw and there’s barely any give under it, and that’s when Dick knows he’s in trouble.

There are one too many henchmen on a night where he shouldn’t, if he followed any logic, have gone out. He doesn’t remember the last time he got more sleep than just a quick nap – if he stopped to think about it, he’d realize it was more than three days ago. But to Dick, world-on-his-shoulders Dick, any night where he isn’t bedridden with an injury is a night when he can – should – go out.

That’s not how the human body works, however. And Dick, for all the magic and powers and aliens that are part of his life, is just that. Human.

Maybe not “just” human, as he is still powering through, against all odds. He isn’t entirely himself, though, and anyone who knows him will notice – not enough flips, not enough show, not enough grace. His body, always yearning to take off and fly, seems to want to stay close to the ground. The limited space is working in his favor, the platform on the docks narrow enough that he can push attackers to the water, but a mistake is bound to happen any second.

And it does. One of the henchmen gets hold of a gun that, if Dick was the tiniest bit more lucid, he would have discarded properly. And this henchman, he points, to the bright blue symbol on Nightwing’s chest – shining in the night like a target he put on himself.

But he never gets to pull the trigger. What he gets, instead, is an arrow knocking the gun off his hand and scraping his trigger finger, hurting him no more than a paper cut, like a warning.

It works like the flick of a switch; the air, heavy and humid like it always is in the docks, now feels electrical, like a song where there’s a sudden crescendo. Dick’s face is lit up by a grin that can’t be wider because it’s physically impossible, a slightly unsettling image paired up with the white eyes of his domino mask. Shrouded by the shadows, on his vantage point on top of a crate, the mysterious archer smiles, and almost wants to laugh.

Even so far apart, they fight together like it’s a dance. No commands need to be called out loud; no warning to duck, no signal for where to shoot. It’s the practice of two people who’ve been teammates for as long as they can remember, and it’s the familiarity of two people who understand each other better than themselves.

With a backflip and a kick and one last arrow zipping through the air, it’s done. Habit takes over and without stopping to think about it Dick’s tying up the mostly unconscious henchmen (only a preventive measure, for now, before he figures out what his course of action is here). He uses these seconds to try to get his breathing back to normal, but he doesn’t seem to be able to, and not entirely because of the fight.

“You can come out now.” He says to the now still darkness around him.

Then, there he is. Roy Harper, bathed in moonlight, red hair and sparkling green eyes; he looks – impossible. Like a dream. With the sound of the waves splashing rhythmically against the docks, Dick thinks it’s hard not to find the poetry in the moment. He’s suddenly entirely awake, his chest pulsing with something he recognizes but doesn’t dare name.

It’s been too long since he last saw him, and Dick aches. Roy does too.

They both take a step forward at the same time – carefully, like they don’t want to disturb the night around them, but eager, hungry, impatient.

Another step forward, another step forward, and then they’re only a breath away. The adrenaline wearing off and exhaustion kicking in, Dick is unable or unwilling to move, lest his muscles give out from under him – he only manages to stand there and breathe in Roy, his presence, his warmth. Roy lets his head fall, just the slightest bit, so his forehead rests against Dick’s. Dick is sweaty and his hair curls and sticks to the edges of his face, but neither of them notice, or care, for that matter.

“You were supposed to arrive tomorrow.” Dick says, finding his voice, hoarse, and feeling the – the suggestion of Roy’s lips, so close, as his move to form the words.

“Something told me I would need to save your ass.” They both let out a breathy laugh, and their chests brush, if for a second. But it’s short lived, and then they’re still again. Roy tilts his head, not to kiss, not yet, and gets even closer: cheeks pressed together, softly leaning on each other. Dick’s arm, with a mind of its own, moves so that his hand curls around the side of Roy’s neck, thumb softly tracing the line of his jaw.

“Besides,” – breathe in; breathe out – “I wanted to surprise you.” Roy’s voice, barely above a whisper, fades out and melts into the night.

For a moment, neither of them feel anything but their own breaths and each other’s heartbeats. When Dick’s body finally collapses – when he lets himself finally collapse –, Roy’s arms are ready to hold on to him, and Dick’s face fits perfectly snuggled into the crook of Roy’s neck. And if there’s a kiss, now, it’s only a brush of soft lips against dark hair; and if there’s a kiss, later, it’s in the comfort of home and in the privacy of each other – except, except, home was never really about a place.

#dickroy #dick grayson #roy harper #my writing #fic #this writing style had me THIS close to writing shit like 'dick. our dear hero'#me writing this: IT'S NOT THE TIME FOR TENDERNESS IDIOTS THERE'S PEOPLE UNCONSCIOUS ON THE GROUND #disclaimer i don't know how fighting or shooting arrows works so just go with the descriptions and act like they're plausible #i spent like 10 minutes figuring out where to put the read more fjdkjd

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nightwingvixen22 · 4 years

Text

Shaded In Grey

Summary : Jason loves Roy just as much as he loves the bruises that he paints into his skin; but to hell if he’ll ever let him know that and change the interplay of their lusting dance amongst the grey

💘💘💘

It’s during a moment like this (offering myself over to be caught in the line of fire) that I swear by the unholy mess in me that Roy Harper is some sort of Saintly Deity of Insanity that which no god can put a name to. Why else would I worship this fucker’s dick like i do ? Call me crude, vulgar, whatever…doesn’t change the fact that the shitty ass truth, is in fact, the shitty ass truth. That truth being that I demand his unsympathetic grip akin to an infant demanding it’s very first breath of life. The affliction of every scar mapping my body is something that I didn’t fuckin’ ask to be met with, nevertheless, something about the power that comes with directing an overdose of a serpentine thirst such as this one that makes me feel more in control then when my hands are gripping lead.

Yeah, only because the world never did leave a kiss of apology.

Chewed mint gum, stale tobacco, and secrets kept out in the rain for far too long, left to tarnish with the coming of nightfall; this is his eternal flavour.

A trifling jungle, Life is.

Then again, even a tongue tied fool knows that.

……

The vast gulf of the abyss beckons nearer with breath peppered by wanderlust and saliva spiked in moonshine. I can only take so much, however I’m forced, and so gorge on this easy feast.

Has a human ever been so unsteady and yet resistant ? So crippled and yet defiant ? I have many bones to pick with myself. I’ve splintered the masterpiece of my life into something ugly.

Each finger in my mouth taste like pure sin. They scrape my gums until lips go down onto mine; then the fingers are put back into place. I choke. He chuckles. Fucking bastard.

Through these eyes of mine white with carnal tears, I look up and into the face of the man I didn’t mean to fall in love with wearing my blood upon his lips like a god damned badge of honor.

There’ll be no victor at the end of this unchaste warfare and I feel the cannon fires terminal blow. Yup. that’s my fucked up heart. What a tool.

But it’s been this way for centuries, hasn’t it ?

Yeah. That’s right fucker. At least for tonight, “You’re mine.”

Was that his whine that I heard ? Unquestionable was his moan. I think I hear him praying, but that doesn’t change the fact that come sunrise

We’ll both be waking up alone;

the bruises I left on his neck the only souvenirs of my Love.

#my fanfiction #jayroy #jason todd #red hood #roy harper #arsenal #Based on the song Fifty Shades by Boy Epic

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bat-lings · 5 years

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@sarv70 asked: “i see a lot of people claim Dick shouldn't be with Barbara cuz she "chains him down to gotham and to being Bruce's sidekick" instead of being the heart of the dcu and I can't help but find that comment grossly inaccurate and kinda dismissive towards Babs. She's more than just an extension of batman and has established her own place in the dcu as the hero everybody goes to when they have questions. Do you think there are any pros and cons to him being with a fellow bat?"

I just… fail to see the logical jump tbh. I don’t think there’s any automatic “pros or cons” to Dick dating a fellow bat; Barbara’s identity and whatever she brings to a romantic partner can’t be summed up to her being Batman’s ally.

Something not to forget is that Batgirl is the equivalent to Nightwing, not the equivalent to Robin. Barbara wears the bat, it doesn’t make her submissive or dependent of Batman; or so bound to him that she automatically chains her loved ones to him. Unlike Dick, Barbara was never a sidekick. Not for one second in canon. She was established as an independant figure from her very first appearance; by appropriating the batsymbol to do her thing with it.

[Detective Comics (1937) #359]

[Batgirl: Year One #4]

That stayed a constant throughout her episodes as Batgirl. She took on missions by herself and never referred to or asked Bruce for permission. See both Batman:Batgirl 1997 & 1998, for example.

Barbara, through Batgirl or Oracle, was always Batman’s ally and equal the way Nightwing is. She was always very vocal about calling Bruce out on his shit too. There’s a reason Bruce bossing her around never bode well in the few occasions he tried. He was out of place the way he’s not when addressing Robin, and the writing & framing always made that obvious.

About whether Babs, simply by being a bat, ties up Dick to Gotham/being Batman’s sidekick… again, I don’t get the reasoning. Dick can’t be his own man and have strong bonds with a bat? He shouldn’t be close to Tim or Damian and should instead remain solely with pals like Roy or Donna or Wally? He should cut off all bonds with his father-figure too? How does being involved with Babs, or getting close to any bat, nullify his growing & emancipating process?

She’s not tying him up to Gotham either since he was in Blüdhaven for most of the time dickbabs was a thing, and the distance was never a problem in their relationship.

Maybe Babs keeps Dick from moving on in a way other bats don’t? There is nothing in their narrative that implies Barbara chains Dick up to Batman. Actually, saying she might is reversing the entire narrative.

Whether her perception is true or not (and whether the writing that made them break up over it should be put on a pedestal or not ooops), Barbara sometimes felt Dick couldn’t let go of their Batgirl & Robin days and couldn’t let them both emancipate from that part of their life/acknowledge they’d changed.

After KJ, she initially pushed Dick away because she saw him as a relic of a past that was too difficult to remember. This stunted their getting together; and when DC decided it was time for dickbabs to end (because, y’know, couples can’t stay together in comics ever), this is the root problem they chose to exploit.

[Nightwing (1996) #38]

[Nightwing (1996) #87]

(I have a lot of issues with how their whole break-up and what lead to it was written; parts of it were OOC esp for Dick and it seemed they, as a couple, had moved on from the whole "stop thinking about the past" thing until Grayson chose to re-use it. But the point is, Babs was never written as holding Dick back. Even at dickbabs’ worst.)

Barbara is nostalgic of her Batgirl days, yes, but moving on is vital for her after what the Joker did to her. She never had any interest to stay attached to that period. Not that Dick particularly was either, but in any case let’s not put Dick’s own nostalgia of their Batgirl & Robin days on Barbara.

No, Barbara isn’t chaining Dick up to anything. Yes, dismissing her as an extension of Batman is an overlook of her character. She’s related but independant from Batman; she was a fully independant figure before Dick ever was. She was never, through what she is or through how she acted, an obstacle to Dick’s emancipation or independance.

Of course Dick will always remain loyal to the bats. He was before he and Babs were a thing, and he remained so long after they were over. Barbara is not a factor in Dick’s involvement with the batclan.

So nah, maybe I’m missing a central part of the reasoning but I’ve never read Babs as an obstacle to Dick’s growth. If it were the case he wouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place, I mean look what happens when Bruce has trouble acknowledging his autonomy lol

#dick grayson #barbara gordon #meta #dickbabs #zae chatters #asks

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bxcketbarnes · 6 years

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Pool Party

Pairing: Calum Hood/Reader

Words: 2099

Author’s Note: I love how I can just gather ideas from pictures. It’s weird, but cool. Anyway, thanks to @thebookamongmen for helping me come up with this idea. I hope y’all enjoy :)

Calum had always fancied you, ever since you two first met. You, on the other hand, had never actually seen him in more of a friend way… of course you thought he was cute and all, no doubt, the concept never just came to mind.

“So, did you invite Y/N to come over?” Roy asked Calum and the bassist’s head snapped up to look at his friend.

His eyebrows furrowed together while grabbing a beer from the cooler before sitting on the edge of the pool. Cal looked down at Roy who treads water in front of him, waiting for an answer. “I-Uh, I didn't no,” Calum answered while opening his beer, taking a small sip.

Roy swan up beside the brunette, resting his arms on the edge of the pool. “Why don't you? Maybe spending more time together will encourage you to finally ask her out,” he commented and Cal let out a small sigh.

“I'm not going to ask her out, Roy,” Cal mumbled, slowly kicking his feet in the water.

Ashton swam over to the two guys, deciding to join in on the conversation. “You don't know that, Cal. For all we know she could be crazy about you.”

Calum shrugged his shoulders, fiddling with the top of his beer. “I don't think she does… I haven't seen any type of sign that screams she likes me back. I just gotta move on. I don't want to ruin our friendship,” he muttered, not making eye contact with either of his friends. “I'll invite her over though. She loves inground pools.”

Ashton laughed loudly, swimming on his back as Cal got up, retrieving his phone to give you a call. He tapped your contact, pressing the call button before pressing it to his ear.

“Cal, hey!” You answered, a smile on your lips as you were tossing wet clothes into the dryer.

“Hey, uh, are you doing anything today?” He asked you, his fingers combing through his hair as Roy and Ash were sliding down the slip ‘n' slide.

You took a look around your newly cleaned apartment, letting out a huff of breath. “Actually, I just finished cleaning my apartment so I'm free the rest of the day. What's going on?” You asked, stepping into your bedroom before plopping onto your bed.

Calum was scratching his face, clearing his throat a bit. “Ashton, Roy and a couple other friends of ours are hanging out and was wondering if you'd wanna join. They've got an in-ground pool,” he said the last bit, chuckling when he heard you let out a small gasp.

“You really know the way to my heart, Cal,” You giggled, getting up from your bed to grab the new bikini you just bought before gathering a couple other things. “Text me the directions and I'll be over.”

You parked the car into the couple’s driveway, quickly shutting it off before clambering out. You grab your bag off the passenger seat, closing the door and heading towards their backyard.

Calum was laughing at Roy going down the slip ‘n' slide, turning his head a bit when he heard footsteps crunching on the grass. He turned his head to the side, seeing your figure walk into the backyard as you watched Roy as well.

“Y/N! You made it!” Ashton yelled, jumping out of the pool, running over to you.

You smiled at the wet curly haired man, hugging him tightly even though he's getting your clothes all wet. “It's so good to see you again, Ash. Where's Cal?” You asked and Ashton pointed behind him, revealing Calum who was sitting straight up in the lounge chair, beer in hand.

“Right over there!” Ash told you, patting your back before joining Roy. You gave Calum a small wave, walking quickly towards him.

“Hey, can you show me where their bathroom is?” You asked as soon as you got to him. Cal nodded, clearing his throat a bit, setting his beer on the table before getting up.

“Yeah, of course. Follow me,” he quietly spoke and you laughed a bit while furrowing your eyebrows together.

You caught up to him, leaning forward slightly while walking through the gorgeous house. “You okay? You sound nervous,” you commented as Calum led you to the bathroom.

He looked down at you, chocolate brown eyes looking into yours. “Yeah, I'm fine!” Cal smiled and you did as well, softly placing your hand on his arm. His eyes moved down to your hand, feeling the tingles spreading up his arm and he felt his cheeks flush slightly.

“Alright. I'll believe you. Wait for me!” You mumbled before stepping into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

Calum stood in front of the door, his fingers gliding over the spot you just touched. I wish you were mine…

You shimmied out of your clothes, pulling the navy blue bikini out of your bag. You pulled up your bottoms before trying to put on your top, having a bit of trouble. “Cal?! Could you help me, please!” You called out, holding the top to your chest, making sure you're breasts are covered.

Calum opened the door, his eyes widening a bit as he saw you were basically topless, swallowing thickly. “Need me to tie these?” He quietly asked, fumbling with the thin blue strings. You nodded your head, flashing him a smile before turning towards the mirror. You kept your eyes on him as he tied your bikini, the tips of his fingers brushing against your back.

He could feel his cheeks blush, wishing he could press his lips to your bare shoulder. Once Calum was done tying the top of your bikini you turned to face him. “You sure you're alright?” You quietly asked him, frowning a bit. You've never seen him this spaced out around you.

Cal nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. “Y/N, I'm fine. I promise,” he mumbled, pressing a short kiss to your forehead before walking out of the bathroom.

You stood still, eyebrows pinched together as confusion plagued your mind. Did he… did he just kiss my forehead? You shook your head, thinking nothing of it and walk out of the bathroom. You quickly grabbed a beer from the fridge before heading back outside. You found everyone in the shallow end of the pool, sitting under the umbrella as the five of them were chitchatting.

You made your way over to the rest of them, giving the people you don't really know a small smile before sitting down in between Cal and Ash.

“Hey, Y/N. How have you been?” Roy asked as you took a sip of your beer, nodding your head.

“I'm doing great! Glad I could get out of my apartment,” you laughed, swaying your hand through the warm pool water.

“I saw a picture on Instagram of you dressed really nicely the other day. Where’d you go?” Ashton asked and your lips parted, chuckling embarrassingly.

“Oh, god. I had gone out on a date with this guy,” you started and you could see Roy glance towards Cal with an indescribable emotion. You took a quick glance at the bassist, seeing his brows furrowed together and a frown on his face.

Ashton’s hazel eyes were widened a bit at the new information since you didn't tell any of the boys that you were seeing someone. “Oh, really? That's great! How'd it go?” He asked and you shrugged your shoulders, fiddling with the beer bottle.

“He turned out to be a bit of a dick, honestly. I most likely won't be seeing him again,” you sighed, hearing the water slosh around you. You watched as Calum swam away from you guys and you felt your stomach drop. “Ash, is Cal okay?”

He nodded his head while sipping his beer. “Yeah, he's fine,” Ashton answered and you purse your lips feeling like neither of them is telling you the truth.

You set your beer on the edge of the pool before swimming over to him. “Are you upset with me?” You asked as you reached him and Calum turned to face you. He shook his head and you scoffed. “Well, then what's going on!? You've never been this quiet around me and if I've done something to upset you just… tell me, please,” you begged, frowning.

Calum sighed, of glancing down for a few seconds before looking back at you. “You never told me you were seeing someone and I'm your best friend,” he confessed making you let out your own sigh.

“Cal, I didn't tell you because you never seem interested in my love life,” you told him, pressing your lips together as he nodded. “If it'll make you feel better… I'll tell you next time I go out, okay?” You asked and he nodded once more, still not giving you a smile.

You gently bite your lip, splashing him in the face. He let out a loud gasp, staring down at you with parted lips. “What the hell?” He asked, wiping the water from his eyes.

“I just wanted you to smile,” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders as Calum smirked. You've seen that smirk before… that's the smirk he wears when he's gonna be mischievous. “Cal…” you trailed off, swimming away from him a bit.

He chuckled, swimming closer to you reaching out to grab you and you squealed. “Oh, come on Y/N/N! Don't run!” Calum laughed, swimming after you.

The two of you laughed as he chased you around the deep end of the pool. The other four were watching you, smiles on their faces as Calum manage to grab your foot, pulling you into his body.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” You laughed, wriggling under his grip as Cal wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you to his chest. Your hands sat on his shoulders, the two of you looking intently into each other's eyes.

“You're so beautiful,” he mumbled and you felt your cheeks blush.

You shook your head and Calum frowned. “I'm not. That guy I went out with told me I was nowhere near a ten,” you whispered, biting your lip.

Calum scoffed, one of his hands moving to my face, pushing the wet hair from it. “Then that guy has terrible taste in women. You are so perfect. Inside and out. Any guy would be lucky to call you theirs,” he told you and you could begin to feel your heart beat quicker.

You stayed quiet, looking over Calum’s face as he just stared at you. He’s so handsome. You grew confused at your thought, never seeing him this way and you were a bit afraid. You never lived that cliche of falling for your best friend, but you feel like it's happening right here, right now.

“What's going on in that pretty head of yours?” Cal asked, tilting his head a bit and you brought one of your hands to his face. Calum’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, his grip on your hips becoming tighter. “Y/N?” He called out quietly and your eyes left his lips to look into his beautiful brown ones.

“Is it weird that I want to kiss you right now or is it just me?” You whispered, never needing to feel his lips on yours until now.

He blushed, lips parting like a fish out of water. “A-Are you serious? You wanna kiss me?” Cal asked and you slightly nodded.

“I don't know what it is about you, right now. I'm gonna be brutally honest’ Cal,” you started and he nodded, his chest filling with hope. “I've never seen you more than just my best friend…” Cal’s heart dropped, frowning and he began to let go of you when you clung to him. “I'm not finished. It's obvious now, by that statement, that you have feelings for me, right?”

Calum swallowed thickly. “Y-Yeah, but it's okay.”

“I'm open to trying this out… if you're willing to,” you mumbled, smiling widely as you see his eyes light up before nodding his head.

“Jesus, you have no idea how long I've wanted a chance to be with you,” Calum gushed, letting out a breath of relief. You combed your fingers through his hair, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. His eyes fluttered shut as you felt his lips brush yours and you instantly pulled away.

You giggle, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip. “Sorry, Cal. I don't kiss before a first date,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his cheek before wriggling out of his grip, swimming away from him.

Taglist: @honeymoonmuke @gotta-try-something-new @dashlilymark @lukeskisses @kinglyhood @phiveseconds @thatcheekychic @maddz-world @ashs-cheergirl @morningfears @h0tsos @thebookamongmen @shower-me-with-roses

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crazyfreckledginger · 5 years

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The Girl’s Pack ~ Chapter 30: A Plan Of Attack

[Princess][Archer][Wolf][Wally][Jason and Roy][Dick]

Her breathing was ragged as she morphed back into her human form and leaned against a tree.

Desperately attempting to control her breathing and make less noise as her lungs burned, she sat down on the ground. The Mount could be seen from where she was sitting.

What am I doing? She thought. The girl came back on instinct and didn’t even took the time to think, she was supposed to go back to her kingdom to be coronated and here she was, going back to the people -- most of which she called friends and somehow thinking she could save the whole team -- who had been unsuccessful to take down three villains.

After everything, (Y/N) definitely had to try, because she has the same advantage the villains had when they attacked the place: the element of surprise.

****

“You? Really? You had to keep an eye on one weak little girl and none of you know where she is?” Deathstroke roared in mock laughter.

“Even you, Batman, that’s disappointing,” Lex sighed, “this means you are all useless to us now,”

“Having Lilith as an asset would have been useful if those stupid muts didn’t kill her,” Slade sighed, “how inconvienent,”

The girl heard the conversation as she crawled through the air vents in her kitten form, who knew this form would become useful. She was light enough to not make a single sound but still have the benefits of her tweaked senses.

Seeing everyone in cages or restrained to stop their power made her feel an incredible weight of guilt, this was her fault.

Her kitten eyes scanned around the big, common room for anything that might be helpful to do anything.

Suddenly, a great idea popped in her mind as her feet rushed down the way she came through in the air vent towards the security room. Shifting into her jaguar form, she blended into the darkness as she jumped down in front of the door and sniffed it.

An unfamiliar smell, probably one of the criminal’s men. Scratching the door, she growled softly once she heard that she had caught the man's attention and backed away from the door slightly, positioning herself to pounce on the man.

Her heart raced in her chest as she heard the footsteps increase and the door opening. Without a moment of hesitation, as soon as she perceived his confused face, she jumped on him, headbutting the man in the chin and scratching his chest as he fell on the ground, swiftly, she turned back into her human self and slammed the nearest object into his face, knocking him out cold.

The girl released a shaky breath as she stood back up cautiously, pulling the man against the chair and slowly closed the door after peaking through it to make sure no one was coming.

After tying up the man and placing him against the wall with tape on his mouth, she sat down on the chair and examined the screens.

In the room, she was just in, were still the same people. She perceived another room with the rest of the team. Her fingers tapped nervously against the desk as her teeth chewed on her lip, trying to come up with a plan.

The girl suddenly remembered her training, what Black Canary had told her over and over again when they were sparring.

To “make sure to use your power to her advantage,”

****

“We told you already that we don’t know where she is, why are you being a complete asshole about it!” Red Hood cursed, holding his rib that had been stabbed with his cuffed wrists.

His best friend gave him a side glare to get him to shut him up, earning a grunt. The red helmet antihero sighed softly, leaning his head back against the wall and peeling his attention away from the men that were laying out a plan out of ear reach.

Black Canary, Shazam, Batman and Red Tornado were all out, having been knocked out cold in the most appropriate way possible. The less official or younger team members were barely controlling their breathing, still in an intense battle with the poisonous gas that was still in their system.

Jason was the only one that was fully conscious but very wounded, he had his helmet with air filters to thank for that.

A very sensitive whirring sound was somehow picked up from his helmet, he tilted his head upwards, watching the camera.

His eyebrows knitted together as he saw the camera’s lens move up, down and sideways until it zoomed in on him and out again.

So many ideas were rushing through his brain.

“(Y/N)?” he mouthed behind his helmet, more to himself than anything else. It must have been his imagination -- or the blood loss, how could she have come back to fast? How could she have known?

He shook his head, definitely the bloodloss.

Suddenly a loud alarm resonated, thumping loudly in everyone’s <eardrums.

Everyone flinched, the ones who hadn’t had restricted movement held their ears and were brought to their knees.

As quickly as it appeared, the whole system shut down and it was pure blackness, only the exit signs were lit up dimly.

This wasn’t really my imagination huh? Jason thought, wincing as he applied more pressure on his wound.

“What’s the meaning of this! Put the systems back on!” Slade roared, most likely shooting his arm in every direction. The sound of numerous footsteps echoed in the room as a result of his outburst.

****

Her paws were silent against the floor, watching from the shadows as disoriented men rushed through the dark corridors in search of the power room.

She kept herself hidden, making sure she could still get a peek without being noticed.

The girl hoped what she had set up wouldn’t kill them, just paralyse them for enough time.

Five men stormed into the big room, immediately searching for the source of the problem. Pouncing swiftly, she closed the door and morphed into her human form, keeping it shut and flipping the light switch on.

(Y/N) gritted her teeth as she heard numerous groans and moans, then nothing.

Turning the light off, she peeled the door open and scanned around the bodies that were laying on the water soaked floor. Stepping inside, she cautiously reached over to pull the open cable off the floor and tuck it away back where it came from.

Quickly, she bounded their limbs and put tape on their mouths before shutting the door and locking it using the key. She never took the key out of the keyhole, however.

Her hands held the top of the door, and she swung her foot directly towards the end of the small piece of metal sticking out, breaking the key off. The part that was still in the keyhole was still inside, unable to be taken off as the other part few to the floor. The girl then slipped the broken key under the door and pulled the ‘security’ sign off and also slid it under the door.

Turning into a smaller feline, her feet raced into the hallway, using her night vision to see clearly. There were two men around the corner, from what she could hear. She stopped before they could even suspect there was someone there.

The girl meticulously took out every henchmen around the Mount in a quick twenty minutes.

Now, was the moment she dreaded the most. Back in her black jaguar form, she darted towards the common area.

Suddenly, the defining sound of static reached her ears and she roared painfully. Her whines turned into moans as she was forced to turn back into her human form.

“We got you know you little rat.”

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